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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mystery of Orcival, by Emile Gaboriau
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Mystery of Orcival
+
+Author: Emile Gaboriau
+
+Release Date: January 1, 2006 [EBook #1651]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTERY OF ORCIVAL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer
+
+
+
+
+
+                       The Mystery of Orcival
+
+                                 By
+
+                           Emile Gaboriau
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+On Thursday, the 9th of July, 186-, Jean Bertaud and his son, well known
+at Orcival as living by poaching and marauding, rose at three o'clock in
+the morning, just at daybreak, to go fishing.
+
+Taking their tackle, they descended the charming pathway, shaded by
+acacias, which you see from the station at Evry, and which leads from
+the burg of Orcival to the Seine.
+
+They made their way to their boat, moored as usual some fifty yards
+above the wire bridge, across a field adjoining Valfeuillu, the imposing
+estate of the Count de Tremorel.
+
+Having reached the river-bank, they laid down their tackle, and Jean
+jumped into the boat to bail out the water in the bottom.
+
+While he was skilfully using the scoop, he perceived that one of the
+oar-pins of the old craft, worn by the oar, was on the point of
+breaking.
+
+"Philippe," cried he, to his son, who was occupied in unravelling a net,
+"bring me a bit of wood to make a new oar-pin."
+
+"All right," answered Philippe.
+
+There was no tree in the field. The young man bent his steps toward the
+park of Valfeuillu, a few rods distant; and, neglectful of Article 391
+of the Penal Code, jumped across the wide ditch which surrounds M. de
+Tremorel's domain. He thought he would cut off a branch of one of the
+old willows, which at this place touch the water with their drooping
+branches.
+
+He had scarcely drawn his knife from his pocket, while looking about him
+with the poacher's unquiet glance, when he uttered a low cry, "Father!
+Here! Father!"
+
+"What's the matter?" responded the old marauder, without pausing from
+his work.
+
+"Father, come here!" continued Philippe. "In Heaven's name, come here,
+quick!"
+
+Jean knew by the tone of his son's voice that something unusual had
+happened. He threw down his scoop, and, anxiety quickening him, in three
+leaps was in the park. He also stood still, horror-struck, before the
+spectacle which had terrified Philippe.
+
+On the bank of the river, among the stumps and flags, was stretched a
+woman's body. Her long, dishevelled locks lay among the water-shrubs;
+her dress--of gray silk--was soiled with mire and blood. All the upper
+part of the body lay in shallow water, and her face had sunk in the mud.
+
+"A murder!" muttered Philippe, whose voice trembled.
+
+"That's certain," responded Jean, in an indifferent tone. "But who can
+this woman be? Really one would say, the countess."
+
+"We'll see," said the young man. He stepped toward the body; his father
+caught him by the arm.
+
+"What would you do, fool?" said he. "You ought never to touch the body
+of a murdered person without legal authority."
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"Certainly. There are penalties for it."
+
+"Then, come along and let's inform the Mayor."
+
+"Why? as if people hereabouts were not against us enough already! Who
+knows that they would not accuse us--"
+
+"But, father--"
+
+"If we go and inform Monsieur Courtois, he will ask us how and why we
+came to be in Monsieur de Tremorel's park to find this out. What is it
+to you, that the countess has been killed? They'll find her body without
+you. Come, let's go away."
+
+But Philippe did not budge. Hanging his head, his chin resting upon his
+palm, he reflected.
+
+"We must make this known," said he, firmly. "We are not savages; we will
+tell Monsieur Courtois that in passing along by the park in our boat, we
+perceived the body."
+
+Old Jean resisted at first; then, seeing that his son would, if need be,
+go without him, yielded.
+
+They re-crossed the ditch, and leaving their fishing-tackle in the
+field, directed their steps hastily toward the mayor's house.
+
+Orcival, situated a mile or more from Corbeil, on the right bank of the
+Seine, is one of the most charming villages in the environs of Paris,
+despite the infernal etymology of its name. The gay and thoughtless
+Parisian, who, on Sunday, wanders about the fields, more destructive
+than the rook, has not yet discovered this smiling country. The
+distressing odor of the frying from coffee-gardens does not there stifle
+the perfume of the honeysuckles. The refrains of bargemen, the brazen
+voices of boat-horns, have never awakened echoes there. Lazily situated
+on the gentle slopes of a bank washed by the Seine, the houses of
+Orcival are white, and there are delicious shades, and a bell-tower
+which is the pride of the place. On all sides vast pleasure domains,
+kept up at great cost, surround it. From the upper part, the
+weathercocks of twenty chateaux may be seen. On the right is the forest
+of Mauprevoir, and the pretty country-house of the Countess de la
+Breche; opposite, on the other side of the river, is Mousseaux and
+Petit-Bourg, the ancient domain of Aguado, now the property of a famous
+coach-maker; on the left, those beautiful copses belong to the Count de
+Tremorel, that large park is d'Etiolles, and in the distance beyond is
+Corbeil; that vast building, whose roofs are higher than the oaks, is
+the Darblay mill.
+
+The mayor of Orcival occupies a handsome, pleasant mansion, at the upper
+end of the village. Formerly a manufacturer of dry goods, M. Courtois
+entered business without a penny, and after thirty years of absorbing
+toil, he retired with four round millions of francs.
+
+Then he proposed to live tranquilly with his wife and children, passing
+the winter at Paris and the summer at his country-house.
+
+But all of a sudden he was observed to be disturbed and agitated.
+Ambition stirred his heart. He took vigorous measures to be forced to
+accept the mayoralty of Orcival. And he accepted it, quite in
+self-defence, as he will himself tell you. This office was at once his
+happiness and his despair; apparent despair, interior and real
+happiness.
+
+It quite befits him, with clouded brow, to rail at the cares of power;
+he appears yet better when, his waist encircled with the gold-laced
+scarf, he goes in triumph at the head of the municipal body.
+
+Everybody was sound asleep at the mayor's when the two Bertauds rapped
+the heavy knocker of the door. After a moment, a servant, half asleep,
+appeared at one of the ground-floor windows.
+
+"What's the matter, you rascals?" asked he, growling.
+
+Jean did not think it best to revenge an insult which his reputation in
+the village too well justified.
+
+"We want to speak to Monsieur the Mayor," he answered. "There is
+terrible need of it. Go call him, Monsieur Baptiste; he won't blame
+you."
+
+"I'd like to see anybody blame me," snapped out Baptiste.
+
+It took ten minutes of talking and explaining to persuade the servant.
+Finally, the Bertauds were admitted to a little man, fat and red, very
+much annoyed at being dragged from his bed so early. It was M. Courtois.
+
+They had decided that Philippe should speak.
+
+"Monsieur Mayor," he said, "we have come to announce to you a great
+misfortune. A crime has been committed at Monsieur de Tremorel's."
+
+M. Courtois was a friend of the count's; he became whiter than his shirt
+at this sudden news.
+
+"My God!" stammered he, unable to control his emotion, "what do you
+say--a crime!"
+
+"Yes; we have just discovered a body; and as sure as you are here, I
+believe it to be that of the countess."
+
+The worthy man raised his arms heavenward, with a wandering air.
+
+"But where, when?"
+
+"Just now, at the foot of the park, as we were going to take up our
+nets."
+
+"It is horrible!" exclaimed the good M. Courtois; "what a calamity! So
+worthy a lady! But it is not possible--you must be mistaken; I should
+have been informed--"
+
+"We saw it distinctly, Monsieur Mayor."
+
+"Such a crime in my village! Well, you have done wisely to come here. I
+will dress at once, and will hasten off--no, wait." He reflected a
+moment, then called:
+
+"Baptiste!"
+
+The valet was not far off. With ear and eye alternately pressed against
+the key-hole, he heard and looked with all his might. At the sound of
+his master's voice he had only to stretch out his hand and open the
+door.
+
+"Monsieur called me?"
+
+"Run to the justice of the peace," said the mayor. "There is not a
+moment to lose. A crime has been committed--perhaps a murder--you must
+go quickly. And you," addressing the poachers, "await me here while I
+slip on my coat."
+
+The justice of the peace at Orcival, M. Plantat--"Papa Plantat," as he
+was called--was formerly an attorney at Melun. At fifty, Mr. Plantat,
+whose career had been one of unbroken prosperity, lost in the same
+month, his wife, whom he adored, and his two sons, charming youths, one
+eighteen, the other twenty-two years old. These successive losses
+crushed a man whom thirty years of happiness left without defence
+against misfortune. For a long time his reason was despaired of. Even
+the sight of a client, coming to trouble his grief, to recount stupid
+tales of self-interest, exasperated him. It was not surprising that he
+sold out his professional effects and good-will at half price. He wished
+to establish himself at his ease in his grief, with the certainty of not
+being disturbed in its indulgence.
+
+But the intensity of his mourning diminished, and the ills of idleness
+came. The justiceship of the peace at Orcival was vacant, and M. Plantat
+applied for and obtained it. Once installed in this office, he suffered
+less from ennui. This man, who saw his life drawing to an end, undertook
+to interest himself in the thousand diverse cases which came before him.
+He applied to these all the forces of a superior intelligence, the
+resources of a mind admirably fitted to separate the false from the true
+among the lies he was forced to hear. He persisted, besides, in living
+alone, despite the urging of M. Courtois; pretending that society
+fatigued him, and that an unhappy man is a bore in company.
+
+Misfortune, which modifies characters, for good or bad, had made him,
+apparently, a great egotist. He declared that he was only interested in
+the affairs of life as a critic tired of its active scenes. He loved to
+make a parade of his profound indifference for everything, swearing that
+a rain of fire descending upon Paris, would not even make him turn his
+head. To move him seemed impossible. "What's that to me?" was his
+invariable exclamation.
+
+Such was the man who, a quarter of an hour after Baptiste's departure,
+entered the mayor's house.
+
+M. Plantat was tall, thin, and nervous. His physiognomy was not
+striking. His hair was short, his restless eyes seemed always to be
+seeking something, his very long nose was narrow and sharp. After his
+affliction, his mouth, formerly well shaped, became deformed; his lower
+lip had sunk, and gave him a deceptive look of simplicity.
+
+"They tell me," said he, at the threshold, "that Madame de Tremorel has
+been murdered."
+
+"These men here, at least, pretend so," answered the mayor, who had just
+reappeared.
+
+M. Courtois was no longer the same man. He had had time to make his
+toilet a little. His face attempted to express a haughty coldness. He
+had been reproaching himself for having been wanting in dignity, in
+showing his grief before the Bertauds. "Nothing ought to agitate a man
+in my position," said he to himself. And, being terribly agitated, he
+forced himself to be calm, cold, and impassible.
+
+M. Plantat was so naturally.
+
+"This is a very sad event," said he, in a tone which he forced himself
+to make perfectly disinterested; "but after all, how does it concern us?
+We must, however, hurry and ascertain whether it is true. I have sent
+for the brigadier, and he will join us."
+
+"Let us go," said M. Courtois; "I have my scarf in my pocket."
+
+They hastened off. Philippe and his father went first, the young man
+eager and impatient, the old one sombre and thoughtful. The mayor, at
+each step, made some exclamation.
+
+"I can't understand it," muttered he; "a murder in my commune! a commune
+where, in the memory of men, no crime has been committed!"
+
+And he directed a suspicious glance toward the two Bertauds. The road
+which led toward the chateau of M. de Tremorel was an unpleasant one,
+shut in by walls a dozen feet high. On one side is the park of the
+Marchioness de Lanascol; on the other the spacious garden of Saint
+Jouan. The going and coming had taken time; it was nearly eight o'clock
+when the mayor, the justice, and their guides stopped before the gate of
+M. de Tremorel.
+
+The mayor rang. The bell was very large; only a small gravelled court of
+five or six yards separated the gate from the house; nevertheless no one
+appeared.
+
+The mayor rang more vigorously, then with all his strength; but in vain.
+
+Before the gate of Mme. de Lanascol's chateau, nearly opposite, a groom
+was standing, occupied in cleaning and polishing a bridle-bit. "It's of
+no use to ring, gentlemen," said this man; "there's nobody in the
+chateau."
+
+"How! nobody?" asked the mayor, surprised.
+
+"I mean," said the groom, "that there is no one there but the master and
+mistress. The servants all went away last evening by the 8.40 train to
+Paris, to the wedding of the old cook, Madame Denis. They ought to
+return this morning by the first train. I was invited myself--"
+
+"Great God!" interrupted M. Courtois, "then the count and countess
+remained alone last night?"
+
+"Entirely alone, Monsieur Mayor."
+
+"It is horrible!"
+
+M. Plantat seemed to grow impatient during this dialogue. "Come," said
+he, "we cannot stay forever at the gate. The gendarmes do not come; let
+us send for the locksmith." Philippe was about to hasten off, when, at
+the end of the road, singing and laughing were heard. Five persons,
+three women and two men, soon appeared.
+
+"Ah, there are the people of the chateau," cried the groom, whom this
+morning visit seemed to annoy, "they ought to have a key."
+
+The domestics, seeing the group about the gate, became silent and
+hastened their steps. One of them began to run ahead of the others; it
+was the count's valet de chambre.
+
+"These gentlemen perhaps wish to speak to Monsieur the Count?" asked he,
+having bowed to M. Plantat.
+
+"We have rung five times, as hard as we could," said the mayor.
+
+"It is surprising," said the valet de chambre, "the count sleeps very
+lightly. Perhaps he has gone out."
+
+"Horror!" cried Philippe. "Both of them have been murdered!" These words
+shocked the servants, whose gayety announced a reasonable number of
+healths drunk to the happiness of the newly wedded pair. M. Courtois
+seemed to be studying the attitude of old Bertaud.
+
+"A murder!" muttered the valet de chambre. "It was for money then; it
+must have been known--"
+
+"What?" asked the mayor.
+
+"Monsieur the Count received a very large sum yesterday morning."
+
+"Large! yes," added a chambermaid. "He had a large package of
+bank-bills. Madame even said to Monsieur that she should not shut her
+eyes the whole night, with this immense sum in the house."
+
+There was a silence; each one looked at the others with a frightened
+air. M. Courtois reflected.
+
+"At what hour did you leave the chateau last evening?" asked he of the
+servants.
+
+"At eight o'clock; we had dinner early."
+
+"You went away all together?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You did not leave each other?"
+
+"Not a minute."
+
+"And you returned all together?"
+
+The servants exchanged a significant look.
+
+"All," responded a chambermaid--"that is to say, no. One left us on
+reaching the Lyons station at Paris; it was Guespin."
+
+"Yes, sir; he went away, saying that he would rejoin us at Wepler's, in
+the Batignolles, where the wedding took place." The mayor nudged the
+justice with his elbow, as if to attract his attention, and continued to
+question the chambermaid.
+
+"And this Guespin, as you call him--did you see him again?"
+
+"No, sir. I asked several times during the evening in vain, what had
+become of him; his absence seemed to me suspicious." Evidently the
+chambermaid tried to show superior perspicacity. A little more, and she
+would have talked of presentiments.
+
+"Has this Guespin been long in the house?"
+
+"Since spring."
+
+"What were his duties?"
+
+"He was sent from Paris by the house of the 'Skilful Gardener,' to take
+care of the rare flowers in Madame's conservatory."
+
+"And did he know of this money?"
+
+The domestics again exchanged significant glances.
+
+"Yes," they answered in chorus, "we had talked a great deal about it
+among ourselves."
+
+The chambermaid added: "He even said to me, 'To think that Monsieur the
+Count has enough money in his cabinet to make all our fortunes.'"
+
+"What kind of a man is this?"
+
+This question absolutely extinguished the talkativeness of the servants.
+No one dared to speak, perceiving that the least word might serve as the
+basis of a terrible accusation. But the groom of the house opposite, who
+burned to mix himself up in the affair, had none of these scruples.
+"Guespin," answered he, "is a good fellow. Lord, what jolly things he
+knows! He knows everything you can imagine. It appears he has been rich
+in times past, and if he wished--But dame! he loves to have his work all
+finished, and go off on sprees. He's a crack billiard-player, I can tell
+you."
+
+Papa Plantat, while listening in an apparently absent-minded way to
+these depositions, or rather these scandals, carefully examined the wall
+and the gate. He now turned, and interrupting the groom:
+
+"Enough of this," said he, to the great scandal of M. Courtois. "Before
+pursuing this interrogatory, let us ascertain the crime, if crime there
+is; for it is not proved. Let whoever has the key, open the gate."
+
+The valet de chambre had the key; he opened the gate, and all entered
+the little court. The gendarmes had just arrived. The mayor told the
+brigadier to follow him, and placed two men at the gate, ordering them
+not to permit anyone to enter or go out, unless by his orders. Then the
+valet de chambre opened the door of the house.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+If there had been no crime, at least something extraordinary had taken
+place at the chateau; the impassible justice might have been convinced
+of it, as soon as he had stepped into the vestibule. The glass door
+leading to the garden was wide open, and three of the panes were
+shattered into a thousand pieces. The carpeting of waxed canvas between
+the doors had been torn up, and on the white marble slabs large drops of
+blood were visible. At the foot of the staircase was a stain larger than
+the rest, and upon the lowest step a splash hideous to behold.
+
+Unfitted for such spectacles, or for the mission he had now to perform,
+M. Courtois became faint. Luckily, he borrowed from the idea of his
+official importance, an energy foreign to his character. The more
+difficult the preliminary examination of this affair seemed, the more
+determined he was to carry it on with dignity.
+
+"Conduct us to the place where you saw the body," said he to Bertaud.
+But Papa Plantat intervened.
+
+"It would be wiser, I think," he objected, "and more methodical, to
+begin by going through the house."
+
+"Perhaps--yes--true, that's my own view," said the mayor, grasping at
+the other's counsel, as a drowning man clings to a plank. And he made
+all retire excepting the brigadier and the valet de chambre, the latter
+remaining to serve as guide. "Gendarmes," cried he to the men guarding
+the gate, "see to it that no one goes out; prevent anybody from entering
+the house, and above all, let no one go into the garden."
+
+Then they ascended the staircase. Drops of blood were sprinkled all
+along the stairs. There was also blood on the baluster, and M. Courtois
+perceived, with horror, that his hands were stained.
+
+When they had reached the first landing-stage, the mayor said to the
+valet de chambre:
+
+"Tell me, my friend, did your master and mistress occupy the same
+chamber?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And where is their chamber?"
+
+"There, sir."
+
+As he spoke, the valet de chambre staggered back terrified, and pointed
+to a door, the upper panel of which betrayed the imprint of a bloody
+hand. Drops of perspiration overspread the poor mayor's forehead. He too
+was terrified, and could hardly keep on his feet. Alas, authority brings
+with it terrible obligations! The brigadier, an old soldier of the
+Crimea, visibly moved, hesitated.
+
+M. Plantat alone, as tranquil as if he were in his garden, retained his
+coolness, and looked around upon the others.
+
+"We must decide," said he.
+
+He entered the room; the rest followed.
+
+There was nothing unusual in the apartment; it was a boudoir hung in
+blue satin, furnished with a couch and four arm-chairs, covered also
+with blue satin. One of the chairs was overturned.
+
+They passed on to the bed-chamber.
+
+A frightful disorder appeared in this room. There was not an article of
+furniture, not an ornament, which did not betray that a terrible,
+enraged and merciless struggle had taken place between the assassins and
+their victims. In the middle of the chamber a small table was
+overturned, and all about it were scattered lumps of sugar, vermilion
+cups, and pieces of porcelain.
+
+"Ah!" said the valet de chambre, "Monsieur and Madame were taking tea
+when the wretches came in!"
+
+The mantel ornaments had been thrown upon the floor; the clock, in
+falling, had stopped at twenty minutes past three. Near the clock were
+the lamps; the globes were in pieces, the oil had been spilled.
+
+The canopy of the bed had been torn down, and covered the bed. Someone
+must have clutched desperately at the draperies. All the furniture was
+overturned. The coverings of the chairs had been hacked by strokes of a
+knife, and in places the stuffing protruded. The secretary had been
+broken open; the writing-slide, dislocated, hung by its hinges; the
+drawers were open and empty, and everywhere, blood--blood upon the
+carpet, the furniture, the curtains--above all, upon the bed-curtains.
+
+"Poor wretches!" stammered the mayor. "They were murdered here."
+
+Every one for a moment was appalled. But meanwhile, the justice of the
+peace devoted himself to a minute scrutiny, taking notes upon his
+tablets, and looking into every corner. When he had finished:
+
+"Come," said he, "let us go into the other rooms."
+
+Everywhere there was the same disorder. A band of furious maniacs, or
+criminals seized with a frenzy, had certainly passed the night in the
+house.
+
+The count's library, especially, had been turned topsy-turvy. The
+assassins had not taken the trouble to force the locks; they had gone to
+work with a hatchet. Surely they were confident of not being overheard;
+for they must have struck tremendous blows to make the massive oaken
+bureau fly in pieces.
+
+Neither parlor nor smoking-room had been respected. Couches, chairs,
+canopies were cut and torn as if they had been lunged at with swords.
+Two spare chambers for guests were all in confusion.
+
+They then ascended to the second story.
+
+There, in the first room which they penetrated, they found, beside a
+trunk which had been assaulted, but which was not opened, a hatchet for
+splitting wood which the valet de chambre recognized as belonging to the
+house.
+
+"Do you understand now?" said the mayor to M. Plantat. "The assassins
+were in force, that's clear. The murder accomplished, they scattered
+through the chateau, seeking everywhere the money they knew they would
+find here. One of them was engaged in breaking open this trunk, when the
+others, below, found the money; they called him; he hastened down, and
+thinking all further search useless, he left the hatchet here."
+
+"I see it," said the brigadier, "just as if I had been here."
+
+The ground-floor, which they next visited, had been respected. Only,
+after the crime had been committed, and the money secured, the murderers
+had felt the necessity of refreshing themselves. They found the remains
+of their supper in the dining-room. They had eaten up all the cold meats
+left in the cupboard. On the table, beside eight empty bottles of wine
+and liqueurs, were ranged five glasses.
+
+"There were five of them," said the mayor.
+
+By force of will, M. Courtois had recovered his self-possession.
+
+"Before going to view the bodies," said he, "I will send word to the
+procureur of Corbeil. In an hour, we will have a judge of instruction,
+who will finish our painful task."
+
+A gendarme was instructed to harness the count's buggy, and to hasten to
+the procureur. Then the mayor and the justice, followed by the
+brigadier, the valet de chambre, and the two Bertauds, took their way
+toward the river.
+
+The park of Valfeuillu was very wide from right to left. From the house
+to the Seine it was almost two hundred steps. Before the house was a
+grassy lawn, interspersed with flower-beds. Two paths led across the
+lawn to the river-bank.
+
+But the murderers had not followed the paths. Making a short cut, they
+had gone straight across the lawn. Their traces were perfectly visible.
+The grass was trampled and stamped down as if a heavy load had been
+dragged over it. In the midst of the lawn they perceived something red;
+M. Plantat went and picked it up. It was a slipper, which the valet de
+chambre recognized as the count's. Farther on, they found a white silk
+handkerchief, which the valet declared he had often seen around the
+count's neck. This handkerchief was stained with blood.
+
+At last they arrived at the river-bank, under the willows from which
+Philippe had intended to cut off a branch; there they saw the body. The
+sand at this place was much indented by feet seeking a firm support.
+Everything indicated that here had been the supreme struggle.
+
+M. Courtois understood all the importance of these traces.
+
+"Let no one advance," said he, and, followed by the justice of the
+peace, he approached the corpse. Although the face could not be
+distinguished, both recognized the countess. Both had seen her in this
+gray robe, adorned with blue trimmings.
+
+Now, how came she there?
+
+The mayor thought that having succeeded in escaping from the hands of
+the murderers, she had fled wildly. They had pursued her, had caught up
+with her there, and she had fallen to rise no more. This version
+explained the traces of the struggle. It must have been the count's body
+that they had dragged across the lawn.
+
+M. Courtois talked excitedly, trying to impose his ideas on the justice.
+But M. Plantat hardly listened; you might have thought him a hundred
+leagues from Valfeuillu; he only responded by monosyllables--yes, no,
+perhaps. And the worthy mayor gave himself great pains; he went and
+came, measured steps, minutely scrutinized the ground.
+
+There was not at this place more than a foot of water. A mud-bank, upon
+which grew some clumps of flags and some water-lilies, descended by a
+gentle decline from the bank to the middle of the river. The water was
+very clear, and there was no current; the slippery and slimy mire could
+be distinctly seen.
+
+M. Courtois had gone thus far in his investigations, when he was struck
+by a sudden idea.
+
+"Bertaud," said he, "come here."
+
+The old poacher obeyed.
+
+"You say that you saw the body from your boat?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Mayor."
+
+"Where is your boat?"
+
+"There, hauled up to that field."
+
+"Well, lead us to it."
+
+It was clear to all that this order had a great effect upon the man. He
+trembled and turned pale under his rough skin, tanned as it was by sun
+and storm. He was even seen to cast a menacing look toward his son.
+
+"Let us go," said he at last.
+
+They were returning to the house when the valet proposed to pass over
+the ditch. "That will be the quickest way," said he, "I will go for a
+ladder which we will put across."
+
+He went off, and quickly reappeared with his improvised foot-bridge. But
+at the moment he was adjusting it, the mayor cried out to him:
+
+"Stop!"
+
+The imprints left by the Bertauds on both sides of the ditch had just
+caught his eye.
+
+"What is this?" said he; "evidently someone has crossed here, and not
+long ago; for the traces of the steps are quite fresh."
+
+After an examination of some minutes he ordered that the ladder should
+be placed farther off. When they had reached the boat, he said to Jean,
+"Is this the boat with which you went to take up your nets this
+morning?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then," resumed M. Courtois, "what implements did you use? your cast net
+is perfectly dry; this boat-hook and these oars have not been wet for
+twenty-four hours."
+
+The distress of the father and son became more and more evident.
+
+"Do you persist in what you say, Bertaud?" said the mayor.
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And you, Philippe?"
+
+"Monsieur," stammered the young man, "we have told the truth."
+
+"Really!" said M. Courtois, in an ironical tone. "Then you will explain
+to the proper authorities how it was that you could see anything from a
+boat which you had not entered. It will be proved to you, also, that the
+body is in a position where it is impossible to see it from the middle
+of the river. Then you will still have to tell what these foot-prints on
+the grass are, which go from your boat to the place where the ditch has
+been crossed several times and by several persons."
+
+The two Bertauds hung their heads.
+
+"Brigadier," ordered the mayor, "arrest these two men in the name of the
+law, and prevent all communication between them."
+
+Philippe seemed to be ill. As for old Jean, he contented himself with
+shrugging his shoulders and saying to his son:
+
+"Well, you would have it so, wouldn't you?"
+
+While the brigadier led the two poachers away, and shut them up
+separately, and under the guard of his men, the justice and the mayor
+returned to the park. "With all this," muttered M. Courtois, "no traces
+of the count."
+
+They proceeded to take up the body of the countess. The mayor sent for
+two planks, which, with a thousand precautions, they placed on the
+ground, being able thus to move the countess without effacing the
+imprints necessary for the legal examination. Alas! it was indeed she
+who had been the beautiful, the charming Countess de Tremorel! Here were
+her smiling face, her lovely, speaking eyes, her fine, sensitive mouth.
+
+There remained nothing of her former self. The face was unrecognizable,
+so soiled and wounded was it. Her clothes were in tatters. Surely a
+furious frenzy had moved the monsters who had slain the poor lady! She
+had received more than twenty knife-wounds, and must have been struck
+with a stick, or rather with a hammer; she had been dragged by her feet
+and by her hair!
+
+In her left hand she grasped a strip of common cloth, torn, doubtless,
+from the clothes of one of the assassins. The mayor, in viewing the
+spectacle, felt his legs fail him, and supported himself on the arm of
+the impassible Plantat.
+
+"Let us carry her to the house," said the justice, "and then we will
+search for the count."
+
+The valet and brigadier (who had now returned) called on the domestics
+for assistance. The women rushed into the garden. There was then a
+terrible concert of cries, lamentations, and imprecations.
+
+"The wretches! So noble a mistress! So good a lady!"
+
+M. and Mme. de Tremorel, one could see, were adored by their people.
+
+The countess had just been laid upon the billiard-table, on the
+ground-floor, when the judge of instruction and a physician were
+announced.
+
+"At last!" sighed the worthy mayor; and in a lower tone he added, "the
+finest medals have their reverse."
+
+For the first time in his life, he seriously cursed his ambition, and
+regretted being the most important personage in Orcival.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+The judge of instruction of the tribunal at Corbeil, was M. Antoine
+Domini, a remarkable man, since called to higher functions. He was forty
+years of age, of a prepossessing person, and endowed with a very
+expressive, but too grave physiognomy. In him seemed typified the
+somewhat stiff solemnity of the magistracy. Penetrated with the dignity
+of his office, he sacrificed his life to it, rejecting the most simple
+distractions, and the most innocent pleasures.
+
+He lived alone, seldom showing himself abroad; rarely received his
+friends, not wishing, as he said, that the weaknesses of the man should
+derogate from the sacred character of the judge. This latter reason had
+deterred him from marrying, though he felt the need of a domestic
+sphere.
+
+Always and everywhere he was the magistrate--that is, the
+representative, even to fanaticism, of what he thought the most august
+institution on the earth. Naturally gay, he would double-lock himself in
+when he wished to laugh. He was witty; but if a bright sally escaped
+him, you may be sure he repented of it. Body and soul he gave to his
+vocation; and no one could bring more conscientiousness to the discharge
+of what he thought to be his duty. He was also inflexible. It was
+monstrous, in his eyes, to discuss an article of the code. The law
+spoke; it was enough; he shut his eyes, covered his ears, and obeyed.
+
+From the day when a legal investigation commenced, he did not sleep, and
+he employed every means to discover the truth. Yet he was not regarded
+as a good judge of instruction; to contend by tricks with a prisoner was
+repugnant to him; to lay a snare for a rogue he thought debasing; in
+short, he was obstinate--obstinate to foolishness, sometimes to
+absurdity; even to denying the existence of the sun at mid-day.
+
+The mayor and Papa Plantat hastened to meet M. Domini. He bowed to them
+gravely, as if he had not known them, and presenting to them a man of
+some sixty years who accompanied him:
+
+"Messieurs," said he, "this is Doctor Gendron."
+
+Papa Plantat shook hands with the doctor; the mayor smiled graciously at
+him, for Dr. Gendron was well-known in those parts; he was even
+celebrated, despite the nearness of Paris. Loving his art and exercising
+it with a passionate energy, he yet owed his renown less to his science
+than his manners. People said: "He is an original;" they admired his
+affectation of independence, of scepticism, and rudeness. He made his
+visits from five to nine in the morning--all the worse for those for
+whom these hours were inconvenient. After nine o'clock the doctor was
+not to be had. The doctor was working for himself, the doctor was in his
+laboratory, the doctor was inspecting his cellar. It was rumored that he
+sought for secrets of practical chemistry, to augment still more his
+twenty thousand livres of income. And he did not deny it; for in truth
+he was engaged on poisons, and was perfecting an invention by which
+could be discovered traces of all the alkaloids which up to that time
+had escaped analysis. If his friends reproached him, even jokingly, on
+sending away sick people in the afternoon, he grew red with rage.
+
+"Parbleu!" he answered, "I find you superb! I am a doctor four hours in
+the day. I am paid by hardly a quarter of my patients--that's three
+hours I give daily to humanity, which I despise. Let each of you do as
+much, and we shall see."
+
+The mayor conducted the new-comers into the drawing-room, where he
+installed himself to write down the results of his examination.
+
+"What a misfortune for my town, this crime!" said he to M. Domini. "What
+shame! Orcival has lost its reputation."
+
+"I know nothing of the affair," returned the judge. "The gendarme who
+went for me knew little about it."
+
+M. Courtois recounted at length what his investigation had discovered,
+not forgetting the minutest detail, dwelling especially on the excellent
+precautions which he had had the sagacity to take. He told how the
+conduct of the Bertauds had at first awakened his suspicions; how he had
+detected them, at least in a pointblank lie; how, finally, he had
+determined to arrest them. He spoke standing, his head thrown back, with
+wordy emphasis. The pleasure of speaking partially rewarded him for his
+recent distress.
+
+"And now," he concluded, "I have just ordered the most exact search, so
+that doubtless we shall find the count's body. Five men, detailed by me,
+and all the people of the house, are searching the park. If their
+efforts are not crowned with success, I have here some fishermen who
+will drag the river."
+
+M. Domini held his tongue, only nodding his head from time to time, as a
+sign of approbation. He was studying, weighing the details told him,
+building up in his mind a plan of proceeding.
+
+"You have acted wisely," said he, at last. "The misfortune is a great
+one, but I agree with you that we are on the track of the criminals.
+These poachers, or the gardener who has disappeared, have something,
+perhaps, to do with this abominable crime."
+
+Already, for some minutes, M. Plantat had rather awkwardly concealed
+some signs of impatience.
+
+"The misfortune is," said he, "that if Guespin is guilty, he will not be
+such a fool as to show himself here."
+
+"Oh, we'll find him," returned M. Domini. "Before leaving Corbeil, I
+sent a despatch to the prefecture of police at Paris, to ask for a
+police agent, who will doubtless be here shortly."
+
+"While waiting," proposed the mayor, "perhaps you would like to see the
+scene of the crime?"
+
+M. Domini made a motion as if to rise; then sat down again.
+
+"In fact, no," said he; "we will see nothing till the agent arrives. But
+I must have some information concerning the Count and Countess de
+Tremorel."
+
+The worthy mayor again triumphed.
+
+"Oh, I can give it to you," answered he quickly, "better than anybody.
+Ever since their advent here, I may say, I have been one of their best
+friends. Ah, sir, what charming people! excellent, and affable, and
+devoted--"
+
+And at the remembrance of all his friends' good qualities, M. Courtois
+choked in his utterance.
+
+"The Count de Tremorel," he resumed, "was a man of thirty-four years,
+handsome, witty to the tips of his nails. He had sometimes, however,
+periods of melancholy, during which he did not wish to see anybody; but
+he was ordinarily so affable, so polite, so obliging; he knew so well
+how to be noble without haughtiness, that everybody here esteemed and
+loved him."
+
+"And the countess?" asked the judge of instruction.
+
+"An angel, Monsieur, an angel on earth! Poor lady! You will soon see her
+remains, and surely you would not guess that she has been the queen of
+the country, by reason of her beauty."
+
+"Were they rich?"
+
+"Yes; they must have had, together, more than a hundred thousand francs
+income--oh, yes, much more; for within five or six months the count, who
+had not the bucolic tastes of poor Sauvresy, sold some lands to buy
+consols."
+
+"Have they been married long?"
+
+M. Courtois scratched his head; it was his appeal to memory.
+
+"Faith," he answered, "it was in September of last year; just six months
+ago. I married them myself. Poor Sauvresy had been dead a year."
+
+The judge of instruction looked up from his notes with a surprised air.
+
+"Who is this Sauvresy," he inquired, "of whom you speak?"
+
+Papa Plantat, who was furiously biting his nails in a corner, apparently
+a stranger to what was passing, rose abruptly.
+
+"Monsieur Sauvresy," said he, "was the first husband of Madame de
+Tremorel. My friend Courtois has omitted this fact."
+
+"Oh!" said the mayor, in a wounded tone, "it seems to me that under
+present circumstances--"
+
+"Pardon me," interrupted the judge. "It is a detail such as may well
+become valuable, though apparently foreign to the case, and at the first
+view, insignificant."
+
+"Hum!" grunted Papa Plantat. "Insignificant--foreign to it!"
+
+His tone was so singular, his air so strange, that M. Domini was struck
+by it.
+
+"Do you share," he asked, "the opinion of the mayor regarding the
+Tremorels?"
+
+Plantat shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I haven't any opinions," he answered: "I live alone--see nobody; don't
+disturb myself about anything. But--"
+
+"It seems to me," said M. Courtois, "that nobody should be better
+acquainted with people who were my friends than I myself."
+
+"Then, you are telling the story clumsily," said M. Plantat, dryly.
+
+The judge of instruction pressed him to explain himself. So M. Plantat,
+without more ado, to the great scandal of the mayor, who was thus put
+into the background, proceeded to dilate upon the main features of the
+count's and countess's biography.
+
+"The Countess de Tremorel, nee Bertha Lechaillu, was the daughter of a
+poor village school-master. At eighteen, her beauty was famous for three
+leagues around, but as she only had for dowry her great blue eyes and
+blond ringlets, but few serious lovers presented themselves. Already
+Bertha, by advice of her family, had resigned herself to take a place as
+a governess--a sad position for so beautiful a maid--when the heir of
+one of the richest domains in the neighborhood happened to see her, and
+fell in love with her.
+
+"Clement Sauvresy was just thirty; he had no longer any family, and
+possessed nearly a hundred thousand livres income from lands absolutely
+free of incumbrance. Clearly, he had the best right in the world to
+choose a wife to his taste. He did not hesitate. He asked for Bertha's
+hand, won it, and, a month after, wedded her at mid-day, to the great
+scandal of the neighboring aristocracy, who went about saying: 'What
+folly! what good is there in being rich, if it is not to double one's
+fortune by a good marriage!'
+
+"Nearly a month before the marriage, Sauvresy set the laborers to work
+at Valfeuillu, and in no long time had spent, in repairs and furniture,
+a trifle of thirty thousand crowns. The newly married pair chose this
+beautiful spot in which to spend their honeymoon. They were so
+well-contented there that they established themselves permanently at
+Valfeuillu, to the great satisfaction of the neighborhood.
+
+"Bertha was one of those persons, it seemed, who are born especially to
+marry millionnaires. Without awkwardness or embarrassment, she passed
+easily from the humble school-room, where she had assisted her father,
+to the splendid drawing-room of Valfeuillu. And when she did the honors
+of her chateau to all the neighboring aristocracy, it seemed as though
+she had never done anything else. She knew how to remain simple,
+approachable, modest, all the while that she took the tone of the
+highest society. She was beloved."
+
+"But it appears to me," interrupted the mayor, "that I said the same
+thing, and it was really not worth while--"
+
+A gesture from M. Domini closed his mouth, and M. Plantat continued:
+
+"Sauvresy was also liked, for he was one of those golden hearts which
+know not how to suspect evil. He was one of those men with a robust
+faith, with obstinate illusions, whom doubts never disturb. He was one
+of those who thoroughly confide in the sincerity of their friends, in
+the love of their mistresses. This new domestic household ought to be
+happy; it was so. Bertha adored her husband--that frank man, who, before
+speaking to her a word of love, offered her his hand. Sauvresy professed
+for his wife a worship which few thought foolish. They lived in great
+style at Valfeuillu. They received a great deal. When autumn came all
+the numerous spare chambers were filled. The turnouts were magnificent.
+
+"Sauvresy had been married two years, when one evening he brought from
+Paris one of his old and intimate friends, a college comrade of whom he
+had often spoken, Count Hector de Tremorel. The count intended to remain
+but a short time at Valfeuillu; but weeks passed and then months, and he
+still remained. It was not surprising. Hector had passed a very stormy
+youth, full of debauchery, of clubs, of gambling, and of amours. He had
+thrown to the winds of his caprices an immense fortune; the relatively
+calm life of Valfeuillu was a relief. At first people said to him, 'You
+will soon have enough of the country.' He smiled, but said nothing. It
+was then thought, and rightly, perhaps, that having become poor, he
+cared little to display his ruin before those who had obscured his
+splendor. He absented himself rarely, and then only to go to Corbeil,
+almost always on foot. There he frequented the Belle Image hotel, the
+best in the town, and met, as if by chance, a young lady from Paris.
+They spent the afternoon together, and separated when the last train
+left."
+
+"Peste!" growled the mayor, "for a man who lives alone, who sees nobody,
+who would not for the world have anything to do with other people's
+business, it seems to me our dear Monsieur Plantat is pretty well
+informed."
+
+Evidently M. Courtois was jealous. How was it that he, the first
+personage in the place, had been absolutely ignorant of these meetings?
+His ill-humor was increasing, when Dr. Gendron answered:
+
+"Pah! all Corbeil prated about that at the time."
+
+M. Plantat made a movement with his lips as if to say, "I know other
+things besides." He went on, however, with his story.
+
+"The visit of Count Hector made no change in the habits at the chateau.
+Monsieur and Madame Sauvresy had a brother; that was all. Sauvresy at
+this time made several journeys to Paris, where, as everybody knew, he
+was engaged in arranging his friend's affairs.
+
+"This charming existence lasted a year. Happiness seemed to be fixed
+forever beneath the delightful shades of Valfeuillu. But alas! one
+evening on returning from the hunt, Sauvresy became so ill that he was
+forced to take to his bed. A doctor was called; inflammation of the
+chest had set in. Sauvresy was young, vigorous as an oak; his state did
+not at first cause anxiety. A fortnight afterward, in fact, he was up
+and about. But he was imprudent and had a relapse. He again nearly
+recovered; a week afterward there was another relapse, and this time so
+serious, that a fatal end of his illness was foreseen. During this long
+sickness, the love of Bertha and the affection of Tremorel for Sauvresy
+were tenderly shown. Never was an invalid tended with such
+solicitude--surrounded with so many proofs of the purest devotion. His
+wife and his friend were always at his couch, night and day. He had
+hours of suffering, but never a second of weariness. He repeated to all
+who went to see him, that he had come to bless his illness. He said to
+himself, 'If I had not fallen ill, I should never have known how much I
+was beloved.'"
+
+"He said the same thing to me," interrupted the mayor, "more than a
+hundred times. He also said so to Madame Courtois, to Laurence, my
+eldest daughter--"
+
+"Naturally," continued M. Plantat. "But Sauvresy's distemper was one
+against which the science of the most skilful physicians and the most
+constant care contend in vain.
+
+"He said that he did not suffer much, but he faded perceptibly, and was
+no more than the shadow of his former self. At last, one night, toward
+two or three o'clock, he died in the arms of his wife and his friend. Up
+to the last moment, he had preserved the full force of his faculties.
+Less than an hour before expiring, he wished everyone to be awakened,
+and that all the servants of the castle should be summoned. When they
+were all gathered about the bedside, he took his wife's hand, placed it
+in that of the Count de Tremorel, and made them swear to marry each
+other when he was no more. Bertha and Hector began to protest, but he
+insisted in such a manner as to compel assent, praying and adjuring
+them, and declaring that their refusal would embitter his last moments.
+This idea of the marriage between his widow and his friend seems,
+besides, to have singularly possessed his thoughts toward the close of
+his life. In the preamble of his will, dictated the night before his
+death, to M. Bury, notary of Orcival, he says formally that their union
+is his dearest wish, certain as he is of their happiness, and knowing
+well that his memory will be piously kept."
+
+"Had Monsieur and Madame Sauvresy no children?" asked the judge of
+instruction.
+
+"No," answered the mayor.
+
+M. Plantat continued:
+
+"The grief of the count and the young widow was intense. M. de Tremorel,
+especially, seemed absolutely desperate, and acted like a madman. The
+countess shut herself up, forbidding even those whom she loved best from
+entering her chamber--even Madame Courtois. When the count and Madame
+Bertha reappeared, they were scarcely to be recognized, so much had both
+changed. Monsieur Hector seemed to have grown twenty years older. Would
+they keep the oath made at the death-bed of Sauvresy, of which everyone
+was apprised? This was asked with all the more curiosity, because their
+profound sorrow for a man who well merited it, was admired."
+
+The judge of instruction stopped M. Plantat with a motion of his hand.
+
+"Do you know," asked he, "whether the rendezvous at the Hotel Belle
+Image had ceased?"
+
+"I suppose so, sir; I think so."
+
+"I am almost sure of it," said Dr. Gendron. "I have often heard it
+said--they know everything at Corbeil--that there was a heated
+explanation between M. de Tremorel and the pretty Parisian lady. After
+this quarrel, they were no longer seen at the Belle Image."
+
+The old justice of the peace smiled.
+
+"Melun is not at the end of the world," said he, "and there are hotels
+at Melun. With a good horse, one is soon at Fontainebleau, at
+Versailles, even at Paris. Madame de Tremorel might have been jealous;
+her husband had some first-rate trotters in his stables."
+
+Did M. Plantat give an absolutely disinterested opinion, or did he make
+an insinuation? The judge of instruction looked at him attentively, to
+reassure himself, but his visage expressed nothing but a profound
+serenity. He told the story as he would any other, no matter what.
+
+"Please go on, Monsieur," resumed M. Domini.
+
+"Alas!" said M. Plantat, "nothing here below is eternal, not even grief.
+I know it better than anybody. Soon, to the tears of the first days, to
+violent despair, there succeeded, in the count and Madame Bertha, a
+reasonable sadness, then a soft melancholy. And in one year after
+Sauvresy's death Monsieur de Tremorel espoused his widow."
+
+During this long narrative the mayor had several times exhibited marks
+of impatience. At the end, being able to hold in no longer, he
+exclaimed:
+
+"There, those are surely exact details; but I question whether they have
+advanced us a step in this grave matter which occupies us all--to find
+the murderers of the count and countess."
+
+M. Plantat, at these words, bent on the judge of instruction his clear
+and deep look, as if to search his conscience to the bottom.
+
+"These details were indispensable," returned M. Domini, "and they are
+very clear. Those rendezvous at the hotel struck me; one knows not to
+what extremities jealousy might lead a woman--"
+
+He stopped abruptly, seeking, no doubt, some connection between the
+pretty Parisian and the murderers; then resumed:
+
+"Now that I know the Tremorels as if I had lived with them intimately,
+let us proceed to the actual facts."
+
+The brilliant eye of M. Plantat immediately grew dim; he opened his lips
+as if to speak; but kept his peace. The doctor alone, who had not ceased
+to study the old justice of the peace, remarked the sudden change of his
+features.
+
+"It only remains," said M. Domini, "to know how the new couple lived."
+
+M. Courtois thought it due to his dignity to anticipate M. Plantat.
+
+"You ask how the new couple lived," said he hastily; "they lived in
+perfect concord; nobody knows better about it than I, who was most
+intimate with them. The memory of poor Sauvresy was a bond of happiness
+between them; if they liked me so well, it was because I often talked of
+him. Never a cloud, never a cross word. Hector--I called him so,
+familiarly, this poor, dear count--gave his wife the tender attentions
+of a lover; those delicate cares, which I fear most married people soon
+dispense with."
+
+"And the countess?" asked M. Plantat, in a tone too marked not to be
+ironical.
+
+"Bertha?" replied the worthy mayor--"she permitted me to call her thus,
+paternally--I have cited her many and many a time as an example and
+model, to Madame Courtois. She was worthy of Hector and of Sauvresy, the
+two most worthy men I have ever met!"
+
+Then, perceiving that his enthusiasm somewhat surprised his hearers, he
+added, more softly:
+
+"I have my reasons for expressing myself thus; and I do not hesitate to
+do so before men whose profession and character will justify my
+discretion. Sauvresy, when living, did me a great service--when I was
+forced to take the mayoralty. As for Hector, I knew well that he had
+departed--from the dissipations of his youth, and thought I discerned
+that he was not indifferent to my eldest daughter, Laurence; and I
+dreamed of a marriage all the more proper, as, if the Count Hector had a
+great name, I would give to my daughter a dowry large enough to gild any
+escutcheon. Only events modified my projects."
+
+The mayor would have gone on singing the praises of the Tremorels, and
+his own family, if the judge of instruction had not interposed.
+
+"Here I am fixed," he commenced, "now, it seems to me--"
+
+He was interrupted by a loud noise in the vestibule. It seemed like a
+struggle, and cries and shouts reached the drawing-room. Everybody rose.
+
+"I know what it is," said the mayor, "only too well. They have just
+found the body of the Count de Tremorel."
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+The mayor was mistaken. The drawing-room door opened suddenly, and a man
+of slender form, who was struggling furiously, and with an energy which
+would not have been suspected, appeared, held on one side by a gendarme,
+and on the other by a domestic.
+
+The struggle had already lasted long, and his clothes were in great
+disorder. His new coat was torn, his cravat floated in strips, the
+button of his collar had been wrenched off, and his open shirt left his
+breast bare. In the vestibule and court were heard the frantic cries of
+the servants and the curious crowd--of whom there were more than a
+hundred, whom the news of the crime had collected about the gate, and
+who burned to hear, and above all to see.
+
+This enraged crowd cried:
+
+"It is he! Death to the assassin! It is Guespin! See him!"
+
+And the wretch, inspired by an immense fright, continued to struggle.
+
+"Help!" shouted he hoarsely. "Leave me alone. I am innocent!"
+
+He had posted himself against the drawing-room door, and they could not
+force him forward.
+
+"Push him," ordered the mayor, "push him."
+
+It was easier to command than to execute. Terror lent to Guespin
+enormous force. But it occurred to the doctor to open the second wing of
+the door; the support failed the wretch, and he fell, or rather rolled
+at the foot of the table at which the judge of instruction was seated.
+He was straightway on his feet again, and his eyes sought a chance to
+escape. Seeing none--for the windows and doors were crowded with the
+lookers-on--he fell into a chair. The fellow appeared the image of
+terror, wrought up to paroxysm. On his livid face, black and blue, were
+visible the marks of the blows he had received in the struggle; his
+white lips trembled, and he moved his jaws as if he sought a little
+saliva for his burning tongue; his staring eyes were bloodshot, and
+expressed the wildest distress; his body was bent with convulsive
+spasms. So terrible was this spectacle, that the mayor thought it might
+be an example of great moral force. He turned toward the crowd, and
+pointing to Guespin, said in a tragic tone:
+
+"See what crime is!"
+
+The others exchanged surprised looks.
+
+"If he is guilty," muttered M. Plantat, "why on earth has he returned?"
+
+It was with difficulty that the crowd was kept back; the brigadier was
+forced to call in the aid of his men. Then he returned and placed
+himself beside Guespin, thinking it not prudent to leave him alone with
+unarmed men.
+
+But the man was little to be feared. The reaction came; his over-excited
+energy became exhausted, his strained muscles flaccid, and his
+prostration resembled the agony of brain fever. Meanwhile the brigadier
+recounted what had happened.
+
+"Some of the servants of the chateau and the neighboring houses were
+chatting near the gate, about the crime, and the disappearance of
+Guespin last night, when all of a sudden, someone perceived him at a
+distance, staggering, and singing boisterously, as if he were drunk."
+
+"Was he really drunk?" asked M. Domini.
+
+"Very," returned the brigadier.
+
+"Then we owe it to the wine that we have caught him, and thus all will
+be explained."
+
+"On perceiving this wretch," pursued the gendarme, who seemed not to
+have the shadow of a doubt of Guespin's guilt, "Francois, the count's
+valet de chambre, and Baptiste, the mayor's servant, who were there,
+hastened to meet him, and seized him. He was so tipsy that he thought
+they were fooling with him. When he saw my men, he was undeceived. Just
+then one of the women cried out, 'Brigand, it was you who have this
+night assassinated the count and the countess!' He immediately became
+paler than death, and remained motionless and dumb. Then he began to
+struggle so violently that he nearly escaped. Ah! he's strong, the
+rogue, although he does not look like it."
+
+"And he said nothing?" said Plantat.
+
+"Not a word; his teeth were so tightly shut with rage that I'm sure he
+couldn't say 'bread.' But we've got him. I've searched him, and this is
+what I have found in his pockets: a handkerchief, a pruning-knife, two
+small keys, a scrap of paper covered with figures, and an address of the
+establishment of 'Vulcan's Forges.' But that's not all--"
+
+The brigadier took a step, and eyed his auditors mysteriously; he was
+preparing his effect.
+
+"That's not all. While they were bringing him along in the court-yard,
+he tried to get rid of his wallet. Happily I had my eyes open, and saw
+the dodge. I picked up the wallet, which he had thrown among the flowers
+near the door; here it is. In it are a one-hundred-franc note, three
+napoleons, and seven francs in change. Yesterday the rascal hadn't a
+sou--"
+
+"How do you know that?" asked M. Domini.
+
+"Dame! Monsieur Judge, he borrowed of the valet Francois (who told me of
+it) twenty-five francs, pretending that it was to pay his share of the
+wedding expenses."
+
+"Tell Francois to come here," said the judge of instruction. "Now, sir,"
+he continued, when the valet presented himself, "do you know whether
+Guespin had any money yesterday?"
+
+"He had so little, Monsieur," answered Francois promptly, "that he asked
+me to lend him twenty-five francs during the day, saying that otherwise
+he could not go to the wedding, not having enough even to pay his
+railway fare."
+
+"But he might have some savings--a hundred-franc note, for instance,
+which he didn't like to change."
+
+Francois shook his head with an incredulous smile.
+
+"Guespin isn't the man to have savings," said he; "Women and cards
+exhaust all his wages. No longer ago than last week, the keeper of the
+Cafe du Commerce came here and made a row on account of what he owed
+him, and threatened to go to the count about it."
+
+Perceiving the effect of what he said, the valet, as if to correct
+himself, hastened to add:
+
+"I have no ill-will toward Guespin; before to-day I've always considered
+him a clever fellow, though he was too much of a practical joker; he
+was, perhaps, a little proud, considering his bringing up--"
+
+"You may go," said the judge, cutting the disquisition of M. Francois
+short; the valet retired.
+
+During this colloquy, Guespin had little by little come to himself. The
+judge of instruction, Plantat, and the mayor narrowly watched the play
+of his countenance, which he had not the coolness to compose, while the
+doctor held his pulse and counted its beating.
+
+"Remorse, and fear of punishment," muttered the mayor.
+
+"Innocence, and the impossibility of proving it," responded Plantat in a
+low tone.
+
+M. Domini heard both these exclamations, but did not appear to take
+notice of them. His opinion was not formed, and he did not wish that
+anyone should be able to foretell, by any word of his, what it would be.
+
+"Are you better, my friend?" asked Dr. Gendron, of Guespin.
+
+The poor fellow made an affirmative sign. Then, having looked around
+with the anxious glance of a man who calculates a precipice over which
+he has fallen, he passed his hand across his eyes and stammered:
+
+"Something to drink!"
+
+A glass of water was brought, and he drank it at a draught, with an
+expression of intense satisfaction. Then he got upon his feet.
+
+"Are you now in a fit state to answer me?" asked the judge.
+
+Guespin staggered a little, then drew himself up. He continued erect
+before the judge, supporting himself against a table. The nervous
+trembling of his hands diminished, the blood returned to his cheeks, and
+as he listened, he arranged the disorder of his clothes.
+
+"You know the events of this night, don't you?" commenced the judge;
+"the Count and Countess de Tremorel have been murdered. You went away
+yesterday with all the servants of the chateau; you left them at the
+Lyons station about nine o'clock; you have just returned, alone. Where
+have you passed the night?"
+
+Guespin hung his head and remained silent.
+
+"That is not all," continued M. Domini; "yesterday you had no money, the
+fact is well known; one of your fellow-servants has just proved it.
+To-day, one hundred and sixty-seven francs are found in your wallet.
+Where did you get this money?"
+
+The unhappy creature's lip moved as if he wished to answer; a sudden
+thought seemed to check him, for he did not speak.
+
+"More yet. What is this card of a hardware establishment that has been
+found in your pocket?"
+
+Guespin made a sign of desperation, and stammered:
+
+"I am innocent."
+
+"I have not as yet accused you," said the judge of instruction, quickly.
+"You knew, perhaps, that the count received a considerable sum
+yesterday?"
+
+A bitter smile parted Guespin's lips as he answered:
+
+"I know well enough that everything is against me."
+
+There was a profound silence. The doctor, the mayor, and Plantat, seized
+with a keen curiosity, dared not move. Perhaps nothing in the world is
+more thrilling than one of these merciless duels between justice and a
+man suspected of a crime. The questions may seem insignificant, the
+answers irrelevant; both questions and answers envelop terrible, hidden
+meanings. The smallest gesture, the most rapid movement of physiognomy
+may acquire deep significance, a fugitive light in the eye betray an
+advantage gained; an imperceptible change in the voice may be
+confession.
+
+The coolness of M. Domini was disheartening.
+
+"Let us see," said he after a pause: "where did you pass the night? How
+did you get this money? And what does this address mean?"
+
+"Eh!" cried Guespin, with the rage of powerlessness, "I should tell you
+what you would not believe."
+
+The judge was about to ask another question, but Guespin cut him short.
+
+"No; you wouldn't believe me," he repeated, his eyes glistening with
+anger. "Do men like you believe men like me? I have a past, you know, of
+antecedents, as you would say. The past! They throw that in my face, as
+if, the future depended on the past. Well, yes; it's true, I'm a
+debauchee, a gambler, a drunkard, an idler, but what of it? It's true I
+have been before the police court, and condemned for night
+poaching--what does that prove? I have wasted my life, but whom have I
+wronged if not myself? My past! Have I not sufficiently expiated it?"
+
+Guespin was self-possessed, and finding in himself sensations which
+awoke a sort of eloquence, he expressed himself with a savage energy
+well calculated to strike his hearers.
+
+"I have not always served others," he continued; "my father was in easy
+circumstances--almost rich. He had large gardens, near Saumur, and he
+passed for one of the best gardeners of that region. I was educated, and
+when sixteen years old, began to study law. Four years later they
+thought me a talented youth. Unhappily for me, my father died. He left
+me a landed property worth a hundred thousand francs: I sold it out for
+sixty thousand and went to Paris. I was a fool then. I had the fever of
+pleasure-seeking, a thirst for all sorts of pastimes, perfect health,
+plenty of money. I found Paris a narrow limit for my vices; it seemed to
+me that the objects of my desires were wanting. I thought my sixty
+thousand francs would last forever."
+
+Guespin paused; a thousand memories of those times rushed into his
+thoughts and he muttered:
+
+"Those were good times."
+
+"My sixty thousand francs," he resumed, "held out eight years. Then I
+hadn't a sou, yet I longed to continue my way of living. You understand,
+don't you? About this time, the police, one night, arrested me. I was
+'detained' six months. You will find the records of the affair at the
+prefecture. Do you know what it will tell you? It will tell you that on
+leaving prison I fell into that shameful and abominable misery which
+exists in Paris. It will tell you that I have lived among the worst and
+lowest outcasts of Paris--and it is the truth."
+
+The worthy mayor was filled with consternation.
+
+"Good Heaven!" thought he, "what an audacious and cynical rascal! and to
+think that one is liable at any time to admit such servants into his
+house!"
+
+The judge held his tongue. He knew that Guespin was in such a state
+that, under the irresistible impulse of passion, he might betray his
+innermost thoughts.
+
+"But there is one thing," continued the suspected man, "that the record
+will not tell you; that, disgusted with this abject life, I was tempted
+to suicide. It will not tell you anything of my desperate attempts, my
+repentance, my relapses. At last, I was able in part to reform. I got
+work; and after being in four situations, engaged myself here. I found
+myself well off. I always spent my month's wages in advance, it's
+true--but what would you have? And ask if anyone has ever had to
+complain of me."
+
+It is well known that among the most intelligent criminals, those who
+have had a certain degree of education, and enjoyed some good fortune,
+are the most redoubtable. According to this, Guespin was decidedly
+dangerous. So thought those who heard him. Meanwhile, exhausted by his
+excitement, he paused and wiped his face, covered with perspiration.
+
+M. Domini had not lost sight of his plan of attack.
+
+"All that is very well," said he, "we will return to your confession at
+the proper time and place. But just now the question is, how you spent
+your night, and where you got this money."
+
+This persistency seemed to exasperate Guespin.
+
+"Eh!" cried he, "how do you want me to answer? The truth? You wouldn't
+credit it. As well keep silent. It is a fatality."
+
+"I warn you for your own sake," resumed the judge, "that if you persist
+in refusing to answer, the charges which weigh upon you are such that I
+will have you arrested as suspected of this murder."
+
+This menace seemed to have a remarkable effect on Guespin. Great tears
+filled his eyes, up to that time dry and flashing, and silently rolled
+down his cheeks. His energy was exhausted; he fell on his knees, crying:
+
+"Mercy! I beg you, Monsieur, not to arrest me; I swear I am innocent, I
+swear it!"
+
+"Speak, then."
+
+"You wish it," said Guespin, rising. Then he suddenly changed his tone.
+"No, I will not speak, I cannot! One man alone could save me; it is the
+count; and he is dead. I am innocent; yet if the guilty are not found, I
+am lost. Everything is against me. I know it too well. Now, do with me
+as you please; I will not say another word."
+
+Guespin's determination, confirmed by his look, did not surprise the
+judge.
+
+"You will reflect," said he, quietly, "only, when you have reflected, I
+shall not have the same confidence in what you say as I should have now.
+Possibly," and the judge spoke slowly and with emphasis, "you have only
+had an indirect part in this crime; if so--"
+
+"Neither indirect nor direct," interrupted Guespin; and he added,
+violently, "what misery! To be innocent, and not able to defend myself."
+
+"Since it is so," resumed M. Domini, "you should not object to be placed
+before Mme. de Tremorel's body?"
+
+The accused did not seem affected by this menace. He was conducted into
+the hall whither they had fetched the countess. There, he examined the
+body with a cold and calm eye. He said, simply:
+
+"She is happier than I; she is dead, she suffers no longer; and I, who
+am not guilty, am accused of her death."
+
+M. Domini made one more effort.
+
+"Come, Guespin; if in any way you know of this crime, I conjure you,
+tell me. If you know the murderers, name them. Try to merit some
+indulgence for your frankness and repentance."
+
+Guespin made a gesture as if resigned to persecution. "By all that is
+most sacred," he answered, "I am innocent. Yet I see clearly that if the
+murderer is not found, I am lost."
+
+Little by little M. Domini's conviction was formed and confirmed. An
+inquest of this sort is not so difficult as may be imagined. The
+difficulty is to seize at the beginning; in the entangled skein, the
+main thread, which must lead to the truth through all the mazes, the
+ruses, silence, falsehoods of the guilty. M. Domini was certain that he
+held this precious thread. Having one of the assassins, he knew well
+that he would secure the others. Our prisons, where good soup is eaten,
+and good beds are provided, have tongues, as well as the dungeons of the
+medieval ages.
+
+The judge ordered the brigadier to arrest Guespin, and told him not to
+lose sight of him. He then sent for old Bertaud. This worthy personage
+was not one of the people who worry themselves. He had had so many
+affairs with the men of law, that one inquisition the more disturbed him
+little.
+
+"This man has a bad reputation in my commune," whispered the mayor to M.
+Domini.
+
+Bertaud heard it, however, and smiled.
+
+Questioned by the judge of instruction, he recounted very clearly and
+exactly what had happened in the morning, his resistance, and his son's
+determination. He explained the reason for the falsehood they told; and
+here again the chapter of antecedents came up.
+
+"Look here; I'm better than my reputation, after all," said he. "There
+are many folks who can't say as much. You see many things when you go
+about at night--enough."
+
+He was urged to explain his allusions, but in vain.
+
+When he was asked where and how he had passed the night, he answered,
+that having left the cabaret at ten o'clock, he went to put down some
+traps in Mauprevoir wood; and had gone home and to bed about one
+o'clock.
+
+"By the bye," added he, "there ought to be some game in those traps by
+this time."
+
+"Can you bring a witness to prove that you went home at one?" asked the
+mayor, who bethought him of the count's clock, stopped at twenty minutes
+past three.
+
+"Don't know, I'm sure," carelessly responded the poacher, "it's quite
+likely that my son didn't wake up when I went to bed."
+
+He added, seeing the judge reflect:
+
+"I suspect that you are going to imprison me until the murderers are
+discovered. If it was winter, I wouldn't complain much; a fellow is well
+off in prison then, for it's warm there. But just at the time for
+hunting, it's provoking. It will be a good lesson for that Philippe;
+it'll teach him what it costs to render a service to gentlefolks."
+
+"Enough!" interrupted M. Domini, sternly. "Do you know Guespin?"
+
+This name suddenly subdued the careless insolence of the marauder; his
+little gray eyes experienced a singular restlessness.
+
+"Certainly," he answered in an embarrassed tone, "we have often made a
+party at cards, you understand, while sipping our 'gloria.'"*
+
+[* Coffee and brandy.]
+
+The man's inquietude struck the four who heard him. Plantat, especially,
+betrayed profound surprise. The old vagabond was too shrewd not to
+perceive the effect which he produced.
+
+"Faith, so much the worse!" cried he: "I'll tell you everything. Every
+man for himself, isn't it? If Guespin has done the deed, it will not
+blacken him any more, nor make him any the worse off. I know him, simply
+because he used to sell me the grapes and strawberries from the count's
+conservatories; I suppose he stole them; we divided the money, and I
+left."
+
+Plantat could not refrain from an exclamation of satisfaction, as if to
+say, "Good luck! I knew it well enough!"
+
+When he said he would be sent to prison, Bertaud was not wrong. The
+judge ordered his arrest.
+
+It was now Philippe's turn.
+
+The poor fellow was in a pitiable state; he was crying bitterly.
+
+"To accuse me of such a crime, me!" he kept repeating.
+
+On being questioned he told the pure and simple truth, excusing himself,
+however, for having dared to penetrate into the park. When he was asked
+at what hour his father reached home, he said he knew nothing about it;
+he had gone to bed about nine, and had not awoke until morning. He knew
+Guespin, from having seen him at his father's several times. He knew
+that the old man had some transactions with the gardener, but he was
+ignorant as to what they were. He had never spoken four times to
+Guespin. The judge ordered Philippe to be set at liberty, not that he
+was wholly convinced of his innocence, but because if the crime had been
+committed by several persons, it was well to have one of them free; he
+could be watched, and he would betray the whereabouts of the rest.
+
+Meanwhile the count's body was nowhere to be found. The park had been
+rigidly searched, but in vain. The mayor suggested that he had been
+thrown into the river, which was also M. Domini's opinion; and some
+fishermen were sent to drag the Seine, commencing their search a little
+above the place where the countess was found.
+
+It was then nearly three o'clock. M. Plantat remarked that probably no
+one had eaten anything during the day. Would it not be wise to take
+something, he suggested, if the investigations were to be pursued till
+night? This appeal to the trivial necessities of our frail humanity
+highly displeased the worthy mayor; but the rest readily assented to the
+suggestion, and M. Courtois, though not in the least hungry, followed
+the general example. Around the table which was yet wet with the wine
+spilt by the assassins, the judge, M. Plantat, the mayor, and the doctor
+sat down, and partook of an improvised collation.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+The staircase had been put under guard, but the vestibule had remained
+free. People were heard coming and going, tramping and coughing; then
+rising above this continuous noise, the oaths of the gendarmes trying to
+keep back the crowd. From time to time, a scared face passed by the
+dining-room door, which was ajar. These were curious folks who, more
+daring than the rest, wished to see the "men of justice" eating, and
+tried to hear a word or two, to report them, and so become important in
+the eyes of the others. But the "men of justice"--as they said at
+Orcival--took care to say nothing of moment while the doors were open,
+and while a servant was passing to and fro. Greatly moved by this
+frightful crime, disturbed by the mystery which surrounded it, they hid
+their impressions. Each, on his part, studied the probability of his
+suspicions, and kept his opinion to himself.
+
+M. Domini, as he ate, put his notes in order, numbering the leaves,
+marking certain peculiarly significant answers of the suspected persons
+with a cross. He was, perhaps, the least tormented of the four
+companions at this funereal repast. The crime did not seem to him one of
+those which keep judges of instruction sleepless through the night; he
+saw clearly the motive of it; and he had Bertaud and Guespin, two of the
+assassins, or at least accomplices, secure.
+
+M. Plantat and Dr. Gendron, seated next each other, were talking of the
+illness which carried off Sauvresy. M. Courtois listened to the hubbub
+without.
+
+The news of the double murder was soon noised about the neighborhood,
+and the crowd increased every minute. It filled the court, and became
+bolder and bolder; the gendarmes were overwhelmed. Then or never was the
+time for the mayor to show his authority. "I am going to make these
+people listen to reason," said he, "and make them retire." And at once,
+wiping his mouth, he threw his tumbled napkin on the table, and went
+out.
+
+It was time. The brigadier's injunctions were no longer heeded. Some
+curious people, more eager than the rest, had flanked the position and
+were forcing an entrance through the gate leading to the garden. The
+mayor's presence did not perhaps intimidate the crowd much, but it
+redoubled the energy of the gendarmes; the vestibule was cleared, amid
+murmurings against the arm of the law. What a chance for a speech! M.
+Courtois was not wanting to the occasion. He believed that his
+eloquence, endowed with the virtues of a cold showerbath, would calm
+this unwonted effervescence of his constituency. He stepped forward upon
+the steps, his left hand resting in the opening of his vest, gesturing
+with his right in the proud and impassible attitude which the sculptor
+lends to great orators. It was thus that he posed before his council
+when, finding unexpected opposition, he undertook to impose his will
+upon them, and recall the recalcitrant members to their duty.
+
+His speech, in fragments, penetrated to the dining-room. According as he
+turned to the right or to the left, his voice was clear and distinct, or
+was lost in space. He said:
+
+"Fellow-citizens, an atrocious crime, unheard of before in our commune,
+has shocked our peaceable and honest neighborhood. I understand and
+excuse your feverish emotion, your natural indignation. As well as you,
+my friends, more than you--I cherished and esteemed the noble Count de
+Tremorel, and his virtuous wife. We mourn them together--"
+
+"I assure you," said Dr. Gendron to M. Plantat, "that the symptoms you
+describe are not uncommon after pleurisy. From the acute state, the
+inflammation passes to the chronic state, and becomes complicated with
+pneumonia."
+
+"But nothing," pursued the mayor, "can justify a curiosity, which by its
+importunate attempts to be satisfied, embarrasses the investigation, and
+is, at all events, a punishable interference with the cause of justice.
+Why this unwonted gathering? Why these rumors and noises? These
+premature conjectures?"
+
+"There were several consultations," said M. Plantat, "which did not have
+favorable results. Sauvresy suffered altogether strange and
+unaccountable tortures. He complained of troubles so unwonted, so
+absurd, if you'll excuse the word, that he discouraged all the
+conjectures of the most experienced physicians."
+
+"Was it not R---, of Paris, who attended him?"
+
+"Exactly. He came daily, and often remained overnight. Many times I have
+seen him ascending the principal street of the village, with troubled
+countenance, as he went to give his prescription to the apothecary.
+
+"Be wise enough," cried M. Courtois, "to moderate your just anger; be
+calm; be dignified."
+
+"Surely," continued Dr. Gendron, "your apothecary is an intelligent man;
+but you have at Orcival a fellow who quite outdoes him, a fellow who
+knows how to make money; one Robelot--"
+
+"Robelot, the bone-setter?"
+
+"That's the man. I suspect him of giving consultations, and prescribing
+sub rosa. He is very clever. In fact I educated him. Five or six years
+ago, he was my laboratory boy, and even now I employ him when I have a
+delicate operation on hand--"
+
+The doctor stopped, struck by the alteration in the impassible Plantat's
+features.
+
+"What is the matter, my friend?" he asked. "Are you ill?"
+
+The judge left his notes, to look at him. "Why," said he, "Monsieur
+Plantat is very pale--"
+
+But M. Plantat speedily resumed his habitual expression.
+
+"'Tis nothing," he answered, "really nothing. With my abominable
+stomach, as soon as I change my hour of eating--"
+
+Having reached his peroration, M. Courtois raised his voice.
+
+"Return," said he, "to your peaceable homes, your quiet avocations. Rest
+assured the law protects you. Already justice has begun its work; two of
+the criminals are in its power, and we are on the track of their
+accomplices."
+
+"Of all the servants of the chateau," remarked M. Plantat, "there
+remains not one who knew Sauvresy. The domestics have one by one been
+replaced."
+
+"No doubt," answered the doctor, "the sight of the old servants would be
+disagreeable to Monsieur de Tremorel."
+
+He was interrupted by the mayor, who re-entered, his eyes glowing, his
+face animated, wiping his forehead.
+
+"I have let the people know," said he, "the indecency of their
+curiosity. They have all gone away. They were anxious to get at Philippe
+Bertaud, the brigadier says; public opinion has a sharp scent."
+
+Hearing the door open, he turned, and found himself face to face with a
+man whose features were scarcely visible, so profoundly did he bow, his
+hat pressed against his breast.
+
+"What do you wish?" sternly asked M. Courtois. "By what right have you
+come in here?--Who are you?"
+
+The man drew himself up.
+
+"I am Monsieur Lecoq," he replied, with a gracious smile. "Monsieur
+Lecoq of the detective force, sent by the prefect of police in reply to
+a telegram, for this affair."
+
+This declaration clearly surprised all present, even the judge of
+instruction.
+
+In France, each profession has its special externals, as it were,
+insignia, which betray it at first view. Each profession has its
+conventional type, and when public opinion has adopted a type, it does
+not admit it possible that the type should be departed from. What is a
+doctor? A grave man, all in black, with a white cravat. A gentleman with
+a capacious stomach, adorned with heavy gold seals, can only be a
+banker. Everybody knows that the artist is a merry liver, with a peaked
+hat, a velvet vest, and enormous ruffles. By virtue of this rule, the
+detective of the prefecture ought to have an eye full of mystery,
+something suspicious about him, a negligence of dress, and imitation
+jewelry. The most obtuse shopkeeper is sure that he can scent a
+detective at twenty paces a big man with mustaches, and a shining felt
+hat, his throat imprisoned by a collar of hair, dressed in a black,
+threadbare surtout, carefully buttoned up on account of the entire
+absence of linen. Such is the type. But, according to this, M. Lecoq, as
+he entered the dining-room at Valfeuillu, had by no means the air of a
+detective. True, M. Lecoq can assume whatever air he pleases. His
+friends declare that he has a physiognomy peculiar to himself, which he
+resumes when he enters his own house, and which he retains by his own
+fireside, with his slippers on; but the fact is not well proved. What is
+certain, is that his mobile face lends itself to strange metamorphoses;
+that he moulds his features according to his will, as the sculptor
+moulds clay for modelling. He changes everything, even his look.
+
+"So," said the judge of instruction, "the prefect has sent you to me, in
+case certain investigations become necessary."
+
+"Yes, Monsieur, quite at your service."
+
+M. Lecoq had on this day assumed a handsome wig of lank hair, of that
+vague color called Paris blonde, parted on the side by a line
+pretentiously fanciful; whiskers of the same color puffed out with bad
+pomade, encircled a pallid face. His big eyes seemed congealed within
+their red border, an open smile rested on his thick lips, which, in
+parting, discovered a range of long yellow teeth. His face, otherwise,
+expressed nothing in particular. It was a nearly equal mixture of
+timidity, self-sufficiency, and contentment. It was quite impossible to
+concede the least intelligence to the possessor of such a phiz. One
+involuntarily looked for a goitre. The retail haberdashers, who, having
+cheated for thirty years in their threads and needles, retire with large
+incomes, should have such heads as this. His apparel was as dull as his
+person. His coat resembled all coats, his trousers all trousers. A hair
+chain, the same color as his whiskers, was attached to a large silver
+watch, which bulged out his left waistcoat pocket. While speaking, he
+fumbled with a confection-box made of transparent horn, full of little
+square lozenges, and adorned by a portrait of a very homely,
+well-dressed woman--"the defunct," no doubt. As the conversation
+proceeded, according as he was satisfied or disturbed, M. Lecoq munched
+a lozenge, or directed glances toward the portrait which were quite a
+poem in themselves.
+
+Having examined the man a long time, the judge of instruction shrugged
+his shoulders. "Well," said M. Domini, finally, "now that you are here,
+we will explain to you what has occurred."
+
+"Oh, that's quite useless," responded Lecoq, with a satisfied air,
+"perfectly useless, sir."
+
+"Nevertheless, it is necessary that you should know--"
+
+"What? that which monsieur the judge knows?" interrupted the detective,
+"for that I already know. Let us agree there has been a murder, with
+theft as its motive; and start from that point. The countess's body has
+been found--not so that of the count. What else? Bertaud, an
+acknowledged rogue, is arrested; he merits a little punishment,
+doubtless. Guespin came back drunk; ah, there are sad charges against
+this Guespin! His past is deplorable; it is not known where he passed
+the night, he refuses to answer, he brings no alibi--this is indeed
+grave!"
+
+M. Plantat gazed at the detective with visible pleasure.
+
+"Who has told you about these things?" asked M. Domini.
+
+"Well--everybody has told me a little."
+
+"But where?"
+
+"Here: I've already been here two hours, and even heard the mayor's
+speech."
+
+And, satisfied with the effect he had produced, M. Lecoq munched a
+lozenge.
+
+"You were not aware, then," resumed the judge, "that I was waiting for
+you?"
+
+"Pardon me," said the detective; "I hope you will be kind enough to hear
+me. You see, it is indispensable to study the ground; one must look
+about, establish his batteries. I am anxious to catch the general
+rumor--public opinion, as they say, so as to distrust it."
+
+"All this," answered M. Domini, severely, "does not justify your delay."
+
+M. Lecoq glanced tenderly at the portrait.
+
+"Monsieur the judge," said he, "has only to inquire at the prefecture,
+and he will learn that I know my profession. The great thing requisite,
+in order to make an effective search, is to remain unknown. The police
+are not popular. Now, if they knew who I was, and why I was here, I
+might go out, but nobody would tell me anything; I might ask
+questions--they'd serve me a hundred lies; they would distrust me, and
+hold their tongues."
+
+"Quite true--quite true," murmured Plantat, coming to the support of the
+detective.
+
+M. Lecoq went on:
+
+"So that when I was told that I was going into the country, I put on my
+country face and clothes. I arrive here and everybody, on seeing me,
+says to himself, 'Here's a curious bumpkin, but not a bad fellow.' Then
+I slip about, listen, talk, make the rest talk! I ask this question and
+that, and am answered frankly; I inform myself, gather hints, no one
+troubles himself about me. These Orcival folks are positively charming;
+why, I've already made several friends, and am invited to dine this very
+evening."
+
+M. Domini did not like the police, and scarcely concealed it. He rather
+submitted to their co-operation than accepted it, solely because he
+could not do without them. While listening to M. Lecoq, he could not but
+approve of what he said; yet he looked at him with an eye by no means
+friendly.
+
+"Since you know so much about the matter," observed he, dryly, "we will
+proceed to examine the scene of the crime."
+
+"I am quite at Monsieur the judge's orders," returned the detective,
+laconically. As everyone was getting up, he took the opportunity to
+offer M. Plantat his lozenge-box.
+
+"Monsieur perhaps uses them?"
+
+Plantat, unwilling to decline, appropriated a lozenge, and the
+detective's face became again serene. Public sympathy was necessary to
+him, as it is to all great comedians.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+M. Lecoq was the first to reach the staircase, and the spots of blood at
+once caught his eye.
+
+"Oh," cried he, at each spot he saw, "oh, oh, the wretches!"
+
+M. Courtois was much moved to find so much sensibility in a detective.
+The latter, as he continued to ascend, went on:
+
+"The wretches! They don't often leave traces like this everywhere--or at
+least they wipe them out."
+
+On gaining the first landing, and the door of the boudoir which led into
+the chamber, he stopped, eagerly scanning, before he entered, the
+position of the rooms.
+
+Then he entered the boudoir, saying:
+
+"Come; I don't see my way clear yet."
+
+"But it seems to me," remarked the judge, "that we have already
+important materials to aid your task. It is clear that Guespin, if he is
+not an accomplice, at least knew something about the crime."
+
+M. Lecoq had recourse to the portrait in the lozenge-box. It was more
+than a glance, it was a confidence. He evidently said something to the
+dear defunct, which he dared not say aloud.
+
+"I see that Guespin is seriously compromised," resumed he. "Why didn't
+he want to tell where he passed the night? But, then, public opinion is
+against him, and I naturally distrust that."
+
+The detective stood alone in the middle of the room, the rest, at his
+request, remained at the threshold, and looking keenly about him,
+searched for some explanation of the frightful disorder of the
+apartment.
+
+"Fools!" cried he, in an irritated tone, "double brutes! Because they
+murder people so as to rob them, is no reason why they should break
+everything in the house. Sharp folks don't smash up furniture; they
+carry pretty picklocks, which work well and make no noise. Idiots! one
+would say--"
+
+He stopped with his mouth wide open.
+
+"Eh! Not so bungling, after all, perhaps."
+
+The witnesses of this scene remained motionless at the door, following,
+with an interest mingled with surprise, the detective's movements.
+
+Kneeling down, he passed his flat palm over the thick carpet, among the
+broken porcelain.
+
+"It's damp; very damp. The tea was not all drunk, it seems, when the
+cups were broken."
+
+"Some tea might have remained in the teapot," suggested Plantat.
+
+"I know it," answered M. Lecoq, "just what I was going to say. So that
+this dampness cannot tell us the exact moment when the crime was
+committed."
+
+"But the clock does, and very exactly," interrupted the mayor.
+
+"The mayor," said M. Domini, "in his notes, well explains that the
+movements of the clock stopped when it fell."
+
+"But see here," said M. Plantat, "it was the odd hour marked by that
+clock that struck me. The hands point to twenty minutes past three; yet
+we know that the countess was fully dressed, when she was struck. Was
+she up taking tea at three in the morning? It's hardly probable."
+
+"I, too, was struck with that circumstance," returned M. Lecoq, "and
+that's why I said, 'not so stupid!' Well, let's see."
+
+He lifted the clock with great care, and replaced it on the mantel,
+being cautious to set it exactly upright. The hands continued to point
+to twenty minutes past three.
+
+"Twenty past three!" muttered he, while slipping a little wedge under
+the stand. "People don't take tea at that hour. Still less common is it
+that people are murdered at daylight."
+
+He opened the clock-case with some difficulty, and pushed the longer
+hand to the figure of half-past three.
+
+The clock struck eleven!
+
+"Good," cried M. Lecoq, triumphantly. "That is the truth!" and drawing
+the lozenge-box from his pocket, he excitedly crushed a lozenge between
+his teeth.
+
+The simplicity of this discovery surprised the spectators; the idea of
+trying the clock in this way had occurred to no one. M. Courtois,
+especially, was bewildered.
+
+"There's a fellow," whispered he to the doctor, "who knows what he's
+about."
+
+"Ergo," resumed M. Lecoq (who knew Latin), "we have here, not brutes, as
+I thought at first, but rascals who looked beyond the end of their
+knife. They intended to put us off the scent, by deceiving us as to the
+hour."
+
+"I don't see their object very clearly," said M. Courtois, timidly.
+
+"Yet it is easy to see it," answered M. Domini. "Was it not for their
+interest to make it appear that the crime was committed after the last
+train for Paris had left? Guespin, leaving his companions at the Lyons
+station at nine, might have reached here at ten, murdered the count and
+countess, seized the money which he knew to be in the count's
+possession, and returned to Paris by the last train."
+
+"These conjectures are very shrewd," interposed M. Plantat; "but how is
+it that Guespin did not rejoin his comrades in the Batignolles? For in
+that way, to a certain degree, he might have provided a kind of alibi."
+
+Dr. Gendron had been sitting on the only unbroken chair in the chamber,
+reflecting on Plantat's sudden embarrassment, when he had spoken of
+Robelot the bone-setter. The remarks of the judge drew him from his
+revery; he got up, and said:
+
+"There is another point; putting forward the time was perhaps useful to
+Guespin, but it would greatly damage Bertaud, his accomplice."
+
+"But," answered M. Domini, "it might be that Bertaud was not consulted.
+As to Guespin, he had no doubt good reasons for not returning to the
+wedding. His restlessness, after such a deed, would possibly have
+betrayed him."
+
+M. Lecoq had not thought fit to speak as yet. Like a doctor at a sick
+bedside, he wanted to be sure of his diagnosis. He had returned to the
+mantel, and again pushed forward the hands of the clock. It sounded,
+successively, half-past eleven, then twelve, then half-past twelve, then
+one.
+
+As he moved the hands, he kept muttering:
+
+"Apprentices--chance brigands! You are malicious, parbleu, but you don't
+think of everything. You give a push to the hands, but don't remember to
+put the striking in harmony with them. Then comes along a detective, an
+old rat who knows things, and the dodge is discovered."
+
+M. Domini and Plantat held their tongues. M. Lecoq walked up to them.
+
+"Monsieur the Judge," said he, "is perhaps now convinced that the deed
+was done at half-past ten."
+
+"Unless," interrupted M. Plantat, "the machinery of the clock has been
+out of order."
+
+"That often happens," added M. Courtois. "The clock in my drawing-room
+is in such a state that I never know the time of day."
+
+M. Lecoq reflected.
+
+"It is possible," said he, "that Monsieur Plantat is right. The
+probability is in favor of my theory; but probability, in such an
+affair, is not sufficient; we must have certainty. There happily remains
+a mode of testing the matter--the bed; I'll wager it is rumpled up."
+Then addressing the mayor, "I shall need a servant to lend me a hand."
+
+"I'll help you," said Plantat, "that will be a quicker way."
+
+They lifted the top of the bed and set it on the floor, at the same time
+raising the curtains.
+
+"Hum!" cried M. Lecoq, "was I right?"
+
+"True," said M. Domini, surprised, "the bed is rumpled."
+
+"Yes; and yet no one has lain in it."
+
+"But--" objected M. Courtois.
+
+"I am sure of what I say," interrupted the detective. "The sheets, it is
+true, have been thrown back, perhaps someone has rolled about in the
+bed; the pillows have been tumbled, the quilts and curtains ruffled, but
+this bed has not the appearance of having been slept in. It is, perhaps,
+more difficult to rumple up a bed than to put it in order again. To make
+it up, the coverings must be taken off, and the mattresses turned. To
+disarrange it, one must actually lie down in it, and warm it with the
+body. A bed is one of those terrible witnesses which never misguide, and
+against which no counter testimony can be given. Nobody has gone to bed
+in this--"
+
+"The countess," remarked Plantat, "was dressed; but the count might have
+gone to bed first."
+
+"No," answered M. Lecoq, "I'll prove to the contrary. The proof is easy,
+indeed, and a child of ten, having heard it, wouldn't think of being
+deceived by this intentional disorder of the bedclothes."
+
+M. Lecoq's auditors drew up to him. He put the coverings back upon the
+middle of the bed, and went on:
+
+"Both of the pillows are much rumpled, are they not? But look under the
+bolster--it is all smooth, and you find none of those wrinkles which are
+made by the weight of the head and the moving about of the arms. That's
+not all; look at the bed from the middle to the foot. The sheets being
+laid carefully, the upper and under lie close together everywhere. Slip
+your hand underneath--there--you see there is a resistance to your hand
+which would not occur if the legs had been stretched in that place. Now
+Monsieur de Tremorel was tall enough to extend the full length of the
+bed."
+
+This demonstration was so clear, its proof so palpable, that it could
+not be gainsaid.
+
+"This is nothing," continued M. Lecoq. "Let us examine the second
+mattress. When a person purposely disarranges a bed, he does not think
+of the second mattress."
+
+He lifted up the upper mattress, and observed that the covering of the
+under one was perfectly even.
+
+"H'm, the second mattress," muttered M. Lecoq, as if some memory crossed
+his mind.
+
+"It appears to be proved," observed the judge, "that Monsieur de
+Tremorel had not gone to bed."
+
+"Besides," added the doctor, "if he had been murdered in his bed, his
+clothes would be lying here somewhere."
+
+"Without considering," suggested M. Lecoq, "that some blood must have
+been found on the sheets. Decidedly, these criminals were not shrewd."
+
+"What seems to me surprising," M. Plantat observed to the judge, "is
+that anybody would succeed in killing, except in his sleep, a young man
+so vigorous as Count Hector."
+
+"And in a house full of weapons," added Dr. Gendron; "for the count's
+cabinet is full of guns, swords and hunting knives; it's a perfect
+arsenal."
+
+"Alas!" sighed M. Courtois, "we know of worse catastrophes. There is not
+a week that the papers don't--"
+
+He stopped, chagrined, for nobody was listening to him. Plantat claimed
+the general attention, and continued:
+
+"The confusion in the house seems to you surprising; well now, I'm
+surprised that it is not worse than it is. I am, so to speak, an old
+man; I haven't the energy of a young man of thirty-five; yet it seems to
+me that if assassins should get into my house, when I was there, and up,
+it would go hard with them. I don't know what I would do; probably I
+should be killed; but surely I would give the alarm. I would defend
+myself, and cry out, and open the windows, and set the house afire."
+
+"Let us add," insisted the doctor, "that it is not easy to surprise a
+man who is awake. There is always an unexpected noise which puts one on
+his guard. Perhaps it is a creaking door, or a cracking stair. However
+cautious the murderer, he does not surprise his victim."
+
+"They may have used fire-arms;" struck in the worthy mayor, "that has
+been done. You are quietly sitting in your chamber; it is summer, and
+your windows are open; you are chatting with your wife, and sipping a
+cup of tea; outside, the assassins are supplied with a short ladder; one
+ascends to a level with the window, sights you at his ease, presses the
+trigger, the bullet speeds--"
+
+"And," continued the doctor, "the whole neighborhood, aroused by it,
+hastens to the spot."
+
+"Permit me, pardon, permit me," said M. Courtois, testily, "that would
+be so in a populous town. Here, in the midst of a vast park, no. Think,
+doctor, of the isolation of this house. The nearest neighbor is a long
+way off, and between there are many large trees, intercepting the sound.
+Let us test it by experience. I will fire a pistol in this room, and
+I'll wager that you will not hear the echo in the road."
+
+"In the daytime, perhaps, but not in the night."
+
+"Well," said M. Domini, who had been reflecting while M. Courtois was
+talking, "if against all hope, Guespin does not decide to speak
+to-night, or to-morrow, the count's body will afford us a key to the
+mystery."
+
+During this discussion, M. Lecoq had continued his investigations,
+lifting the furniture, studying the fractures, examining the smallest
+pieces, as if they might betray the truth. Now and then, he took out an
+instrument-case, from which he produced a shank, which he introduced and
+turned in the locks. He found several keys on the carpet, and on a rack,
+a towel, which he carefully put one side, as if he deemed it important.
+He came and went from the bedroom to the count's cabinet, without losing
+a word that was said; noting in his memory, not so much the phrases
+uttered, as the diverse accents and intonations with which they were
+spoken. In an inquest such as that of the crime of Orcival, when several
+officials find themselves face to face, they hold a certain reserve
+toward each other. They know each other to have nearly equal experience,
+to be shrewd, clear-headed, equally interested in discovering the truth,
+not disposed to confide in appearances, difficult to surprise. Each one,
+likely enough, gives a different interpretation to the facts revealed;
+each may have a different theory of the deed; but a superficial observer
+would not note these differences. Each, while dissimulating his real
+thoughts, tries to penetrate those of his neighbor, and if they are
+opposed to his own, to convert him to his opinion. The great importance
+of a single word justifies this caution. Men who hold the liberty and
+lives of others in their hands, a scratch of whose pen condemns to
+death, are apt to feel heavily the burden of their responsibility. It is
+an ineffable solace, to feel that this burden is shared by others. This
+is, why no one dares take the initiative, or express himself openly; but
+each awaits other opinions, to adopt or oppose them. They exchange fewer
+affirmations than suggestions. They proceed by insinuation; then they
+utter commonplaces, ridiculous suppositions, asides, provocative, as it
+were, of other explanations.
+
+In this instance, the judge of instruction and Plantat were far from
+being of the same opinion; they knew it before speaking a word. But M.
+Domini, whose opinion rested on material and palpable facts, which
+appeared to him indisputable, was not disposed to provoke contradiction.
+Plantat, on the contrary, whose system seemed to rest on impressions, on
+a series of logical deductions, would not clearly express himself,
+without a positive and pressing invitation. His last speech,
+impressively uttered, had not been replied to; he judged that he had
+advanced far enough to sound the detective.
+
+"Well, Monsieur Lecoq," asked he, "have you found any new traces?"
+
+M. Lecoq was at that moment curiously examining a large portrait of the
+Count Hector, which hung opposite the bed. Hearing M. Plantat's
+question, he turned.
+
+"I have found nothing decisive," answered he, "and I have found nothing
+to refute my conjectures. But--"
+
+He did not finish; perhaps he too, recoiled before his share of the
+responsibility.
+
+"What?" insisted M. Domini, sternly.
+
+"I was going to say," resumed M. Lecoq, "that I am not yet satisfied. I
+have my lantern and a candle in it; I only need a match--"
+
+"Please preserve your decorum," interrupted the judge severely.
+
+"Very well, then," continued M. Lecoq, in a tone too humble to be
+serious, "I still hesitate. If the doctor, now, would kindly proceed to
+examine the countess's body, he would do me a great service."
+
+"I was just going to ask the same favor, Doctor," said M. Domini.
+
+The doctor answering, "Willingly," directed his steps toward the door.
+
+M. Lecoq caught him by the arm.
+
+"If you please," said he, in a tone totally unlike that he had used up
+to this time, "I would like to call your attention to the wounds on the
+head, made by a blunt instrument, which I suppose to be a hammer. I have
+studied these wounds, and though I am no doctor, they seem to me
+suspicious."
+
+"And to me," M. Plantat quickly added. "It seemed to me, that in the
+places struck, there was no emission of blood in the cutaneous vessels."
+
+"The nature of these wounds," continued M. Lecoq, "will be a valuable
+indication, which will fix my opinion." And, as he felt keenly the
+brusque manner of the judge, he added:
+
+"It is you, Doctor, who hold the match."
+
+M. Gendron was about to leave the room, when Baptiste, the mayor's
+servant--the man who wouldn't be scolded--appeared. He bowed and said:
+
+"I have come for Monsieur the Mayor."
+
+"For me? why?" asked M. Courtois. "What's the matter? They don't give me
+a minute's rest! Answer that I am busy."
+
+"It's on account of madame," resumed the placid Baptiste; "she isn't at
+all well." The excellent mayor grew slightly pale.
+
+"My wife!" cried he, alarmed. "What do you mean? Explain yourself."
+
+"The postman arrived just now," returned Baptiste with a most tranquil
+air, "and I carried the letters to madame, who was in the drawing-room.
+Hardly had I turned on my heels when I heard a shriek, and the noise of
+someone falling to the floor." Baptiste spoke slowly, taking artful
+pains to prolong his master's anguish.
+
+"Speak! go on!" cried the mayor, exasperated. "Speak, won't you?"
+
+"I naturally opened the drawing-room door again. What did I see? madame,
+at full length on the floor. I called for help; the chambermaid, cook,
+and others came hastening up, and we carried madame to her bed. Justine
+said that it was a letter from Mademoiselle Laurence which overcame my
+mistress--"
+
+At each word Baptiste hesitated, reflected; his eyes, giving the lie to
+his solemn face, betrayed the great satisfaction he felt in relating his
+master's misfortunes.
+
+His master was full of consternation. As it is with all of us, when we
+know not exactly what ill is about to befall us, he dared not ask any
+questions. He stood still, crushed; lamenting, instead of hastening
+home. M. Plantat profited by the pause to question the servant, with a
+look which Baptiste dared not disobey.
+
+"What, a letter from Mademoiselle Laurence? Isn't she here, then?"
+
+"No, sir: she went away a week ago, to pass a month with one of her
+aunts."
+
+"And how is madame?"
+
+"Better, sir; only she cries piteously."
+
+The unfortunate mayor had now somewhat recovered his presence of mind.
+He seized Baptiste by the arm.
+
+"Come along," cried he, "come along!"
+
+They hastened off.
+
+"Poor man!" said the judge of instruction. "Perhaps his daughter is
+dead."
+
+M. Plantat shook his head.
+
+"If it were only that!" muttered he. He added, turning to M. Domini:
+
+"Do you recall the allusions of Bertaud, monsieur?"
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+The judge of instruction, the doctor, and M. Plantat exchanged a
+significant look. What misfortune had befallen M. Courtois, this worthy,
+and despite his faults, excellent person? Decidedly, this was an
+ill-omened day!
+
+"If we are to speak of Bertaud's allusions," said M. Lecoq, "I have
+heard two very curious stories, though I have been here but a few hours.
+It seems that this Mademoiselle Laurence--"
+
+M. Plantat abruptly interrupted the detective.
+
+"Calumnies! odious calumnies! The lower classes, to annoy the rich, do
+not hesitate to say all sorts of things against them. Don't you know it?
+Is it not always so? The gentry, above all, those of a provincial town,
+live in glass houses. The lynx eyes of envy watch them steadily night
+and day, spy on them, surprise what they regard as their most secret
+actions to arm themselves against them. The bourgeois goes on, proud and
+content; his business prospers; he possesses the esteem and friendship
+of his own class; all this while, he is vilified by the lower classes,
+his name dragged in the dust, soiled by suppositions the most
+mischievous. Envy, Monsieur, respects nothing, no one."
+
+"If Laurence has been slandered," observed Dr. Gendron, smiling, "she
+has a good advocate to defend her."
+
+The old justice of the peace (the man of bronze, as M. Courtois called
+him) blushed slightly, a little embarrassed.
+
+"There are causes," said he, quietly, "which defend themselves.
+Mademoiselle Courtois is one of those young girls who has a right to all
+respect. But there are evils which no laws can cure, and which revolt
+me. Think of it, monsieurs, our reputations, the honor of our wives and
+daughters, are at the mercy of the first petty rascal who has
+imagination enough to invent a slander. It is not believed, perhaps; but
+it is repeated, and spreads. What can be done? How can we know what is
+secretly said against us; will we ever know it?"
+
+"Eh!" replied the doctor, "what matters it? There is only one voice, to
+my mind, worth listening to--that of conscience. As to what is called
+'public opinion,' as it is the aggregate opinion of thousands of fools
+and rogues, I only despise it."
+
+This discussion might have been prolonged, if the judge of instruction
+had not pulled out his watch, and made an impatient gesture.
+
+"While we are talking, time is flying," said he. "We must hasten to the
+work that still remains."
+
+It was then agreed that while the doctor proceeded to his autopsy, the
+judge should draw up his report of the case. M. Plantat was charged with
+watching Lecoq's investigations.
+
+As soon as the detective found himself alone with M. Plantat:
+
+"Well," he said, drawing a long breath, as if relieved of a heavy
+burden, "now we can get on."
+
+Plantat smiled; the detective munched a lozenge, and added:
+
+"It was very annoying to find the investigation already going on when I
+reached here. Those who were here before me have had time to get up a
+theory, and if I don't adopt it at once, there is the deuce to pay!"
+
+M. Domini's voice was heard in the entry, calling out to his clerk.
+
+"Now there's the judge of instruction," continued Lecoq, "who thinks
+this a very simple affair; while I, Lecoq, the equal at least of Gevrol,
+the favorite pupil of Papa Tabaret--I do not see it at all clearly yet."
+
+He stopped; and after apparently going over in his mind the result of
+his discoveries, went on: "No; I'm off the track, and have almost lost
+my way. I see something underneath all this--but what? what?"
+
+M. Plantat's face remained placid, but his eyes shone.
+
+"Perhaps you are right," said he, carelessly; "perhaps there is
+something underneath." The detective looked at him; he didn't stir. His
+face seemed the most undisturbed in the world. There was a long silence,
+by which M. Lecoq profited to confide to the portrait of the defunct the
+reflections which burdened his brain.
+
+"See here, my dear darling," said he, "this worthy person seems a shrewd
+old customer, and I must watch his actions and gestures carefully. He
+does not argue with the judge; he's got an idea that he doesn't dare to
+tell, and we must find it out. At the very first he guessed me out,
+despite these pretty blond locks. As long as he thought he could, by
+misleading me, make me follow M. Domini's tack, he followed and aided me
+showing me the way. Now that he sees me on the scent, he crosses his
+arms and retires. He wants to leave me the honor of the discovery. Why?
+He lives here--perhaps he is afraid of making enemies. No. He isn't a
+man to fear much of anything. What then? He shrinks from his own
+thoughts. He has found something so amazing, that he dares not explain
+himself."
+
+A sudden reflection changed the course of M. Lecoq's confidences.
+
+"A thousand imps!" thought he. "Suppose I'm wrong! Suppose this old
+fellow is not shrewd at all! Suppose he hasn't discovered anything, and
+only obeys the inspirations of chance! I've seen stranger things. I've
+known so many of these folks whose eyes seem so very mysterious, and
+announce such wonders; after all, I found nothing, and was cheated. But
+I intend to sound this old fellow well."
+
+And, assuming his most idiotic manner, he said aloud:
+
+"On reflection, Monsieur, little remains to be done. Two of the
+principals are in custody, and when they make up their minds to
+talk--they'll do it, sooner or later, if the judge is determined they
+shall--we shall know all."
+
+A bucket of ice-water falling on M. Plantat's head could not have
+surprised him more, or more disagreeably, than this speech.
+
+"What!" stammered he, with an air of frank amazement, "do you, a man of
+experience, who--"
+
+Delighted with the success of his ruse, Lecoq could not keep his
+countenance, and Plantat, who perceived that he had been caught in the
+snare, laughed heartily. Not a word, however, was exchanged between
+these two men, both subtle in the science of life, and equally cunning
+in its mysteries. They quite understood each other.
+
+"My worthy old buck," said the detective to himself, "you've got
+something in your sack; only it's so big, so monstrous, that you won't
+exhibit it, not for a cannon-ball. You wish your hand forced, do you?
+Ve-ry well!"
+
+"He's sly," thought M. Plantat. "He knows that I've got an idea; he's
+trying to get at it--and I believe he will."
+
+M. Lecoq had restored his lozenge-box to his pocket, as he always did
+when he went seriously to work. His amour-propre was enlisted; he played
+a part--and he was a rare comedian.
+
+"Now," cried he, "let's to horse. According to the mayor's account, the
+instrument with which all these things were broken has been found."
+
+"In the room in the second story," answered M. Plantat, "overlooking the
+garden, we found a hatchet on the floor, near a piece of furniture which
+had been assailed, but not broken open; I forbade anyone to touch it."
+
+"And you did well. Is it a heavy hatchet?"
+
+"It weighs about two pounds."
+
+"Good. Let's see it."
+
+They ascended to the room in question, and M. Lecoq, forgetting his part
+of a haberdasher, and regardless of his clothes, went down flat on his
+stomach, alternately scrutinizing the hatchet--which was a heavy,
+terrible weapon--and the slippery and well-waxed oaken floor.
+
+"I suppose," observed M. Plantat, "that the assassins brought this
+hatchet up here and assailed this cupboard, for the sole purpose of
+putting us off our scent, and to complicate the mystery. This weapon,
+you see, was by no means necessary for breaking open the cupboard, which
+I could smash with my fist. They gave one blow--only one--and quietly
+put the hatchet down."
+
+The detective got up and brushed himself.
+
+"I think you are mistaken," said he. "This hatchet wasn't put on the
+floor gently; it was thrown with a violence betraying either great
+terror or great anger. Look here; do you see these three marks, near
+each other, on the floor? When the assassin threw the hatchet, it first
+fell on the edge--hence this sharp cut; then it fell over on one side;
+and the flat, or hammer end left this mark here, under my finger.
+Therefore, it was thrown with such violence that it turned over itself
+and that its edge a second time cut in the floor, where you see it now."
+
+"True," answered M. Plantat. The detective's conjectures doubtless
+refuted his own theory, for he added, with a perplexed air:
+
+"I don't understand anything about it."
+
+M. Lecoq went on:
+
+"Were the windows open this morning as they are now?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ah! The wretches heard some noise or other in the garden, and they went
+and looked out. What did they see? I can't tell. But I do know that what
+they saw terrified them, that they threw down the hatchet furiously, and
+made off. Look at the position of these cuts--they are slanting of
+course--and you will see that the hatchet was thrown by a man who was
+standing, not by the cupboard, but close by the open window."
+
+Plantat in his turn knelt down, and looked long and carefully. The
+detective was right. He got up confused, and after meditating a moment,
+said:
+
+"This perplexes me a little; however--"
+
+He stopped, motionless, in a revery, with one of his hands on his
+forehead.
+
+"All might yet be explained," he muttered, mentally searching for a
+solution of the mystery, "and in that case the time indicated by the
+clock would be true."
+
+M. Lecoq did not think of questioning his companion. He knew that he
+would not answer, for pride's sake.
+
+"This matter of the hatchet puzzles me, too," said he. "I thought that
+these assassins had worked leisurely; but that can't be so. I see they
+were surprised and interrupted."
+
+Plantat was all ears.
+
+"True," pursued M. Lecoq, slowly, "we ought to divide these indications
+into two classes. There are the traces left on purpose to mislead
+us--the jumbled-up bed, for instance; then there are the real traces,
+undesigned, as are these hatchet cuts. But here I hesitate. Is the trace
+of the hatchet true or false, good or bad? I thought myself sure of the
+character of these assassins: but now--" He paused; the wrinkles on his
+face, the contraction of his mouth, betrayed his mental effort.
+
+"But now?" asked M. Plantat.
+
+M. Lecoq, at this question, seemed like a man just roused from sleep.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said he. "I forgot myself. I've a bad habit of
+reflecting aloud. That's why I almost always insist on working alone. My
+uncertainty, hesitation, the vacillation of my suspicions, lose me the
+credit of being an astute detective--of being an agent for whom there's
+no such thing as a mystery."
+
+Worthy M. Plantat gave the detective an indulgent smile.
+
+"I don't usually open my mouth," pursued M. Lecoq, "until my mind is
+satisfied; then I speak in a peremptory tone, and say--this is thus, or
+this is so. But to-day I am acting without too much restraint, in the
+company of a man who knows that a problem such as this seems to me to
+be, is not solved at the first attempt. So I permit my gropings to be
+seen without shame. You cannot always reach the truth at a bound, but by
+a series of diverse calculations, by deductions and inductions. Well,
+just now my logic is at fault."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Oh, it's very simple. I thought I understood the rascals, and knew them
+by heart; and yet I have only recognized imaginary adversaries. Are they
+fools, or are they mighty sly? That's what I ask myself. The tricks
+played with the bed and clock had, I supposed, given me the measure and
+extent of their intelligence and invention. Making deductions from the
+known to the unknown, I arrived, by a series of very simple
+consequences, at the point of foreseeing all that they could have
+imagined, to throw us off the scent. My point of departure admitted, I
+had only, in order to reach the truth, to take the contrary of that
+which appearances indicated. I said to myself:
+
+"A hatchet has been found in the second story; therefore the assassins
+carried it there, and designedly forgot it.
+
+"They left five glasses on the dining-room table; therefore they were
+more or less than five, but they were not five.
+
+"There were the remains of a supper on the table; therefore they neither
+drank nor ate.
+
+"The countess's body was on the river-bank; therefore it was placed
+there deliberately. A piece of cloth was found in the victim's hand;
+therefore it was put there by the murderers themselves.
+
+"Madame de Tremorel's body is disfigured by many dagger-strokes, and
+horribly mutilated; therefore she was killed by a single blow--"
+
+"Bravo, yes, bravo," cried M. Plantat, visibly charmed.
+
+"Eh! no, not bravo yet," returned M. Lecoq. "For here my thread is
+broken; I have reached a gap. If my deductions were sound, this hatchet
+would have been very carefully placed on the floor."
+
+"Once more, bravo," added the other, "for this does not at all affect
+our general theory. It is clear, nay certain, that the assassins
+intended to act as you say. An unlooked-for event interrupted them."
+
+"Perhaps; perhaps that's true. But I see something else--"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Nothing--at least, for the moment. Before all, I must see the
+dining-room and the garden."
+
+They descended at once, and Plantat pointed out the glasses and bottles,
+which he had put one side. The detective took the glasses, one after
+another, held them level with his eye, toward the light, and scrutinized
+the moist places left on them.
+
+"No one has drank from these glasses," said he, firmly.
+
+"What, from neither one of them?"
+
+The detective fixed a penetrating look upon his companion, and in a
+measured tone, said:
+
+"From neither one."
+
+M. Plantat only answered by a movement of the lips, as if to say, "You
+are going too far."
+
+The other smiled, opened the door, and called:
+
+"Francois!"
+
+The valet hastened to obey the call. His face was suffused with tears;
+he actually bewailed the loss of his master.
+
+"Hear what I've got to say, my lad," said M. Lecoq, with true
+detective-like familiarity. "And be sure and answer me exactly, frankly,
+and briefly."
+
+"I will, sir."
+
+"Was it customary here at the chateau, to bring up the wine before it
+was wanted?"
+
+"No, sir; before each meal, I myself went down to the cellar for it."
+
+"Then no full bottles were ever kept in the dining-room?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"But some of the wine might sometimes remain in draught?"
+
+"No; the count permitted me to carry the dessert wine to the servants'
+table."
+
+"And where were the empty bottles put?"
+
+"I put them in this corner cupboard, and when they amounted to a certain
+number, I carried them down cellar."
+
+"When did you last do so?"
+
+"Oh"--Francois reflected--"at least five or six days ago."
+
+"Good. Now, what liqueurs did the count drink?"
+
+"The count scarcely ever drank liqueurs. If, by chance, he took a notion
+to have a small glass of eau-de-vie, he got it from the liqueur closet,
+there, over the stove."
+
+"There were no decanters of rum or cognac in any of the cupboards?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Thanks; you may retire."
+
+As Francois was going out, M. Lecoq called him back.
+
+"While we are about it, look in the bottom of the closet, and see if you
+find the right number of empty bottles."
+
+The valet obeyed, and looked into the closet.
+
+"There isn't one there."
+
+"Just so," returned M. Lecoq. "This time, show us your heels for good."
+
+As soon as Francois had shut the door, M. Lecoq turned to Plantat and
+asked:
+
+"What do you think now?"
+
+"You were perfectly right."
+
+The detective then smelt successively each glass and bottle.
+
+"Good again! Another proof in aid of my guess."
+
+"What more?"
+
+"It was not wine that was at the bottom of these glasses. Among all the
+empty bottles put away in the bottom of that closet, there was one--here
+it is--which contained vinegar; and it was from this bottle that they
+turned what they thought to be wine into the glasses."
+
+Seizing a glass, he put it to M. Plantat's nose, adding:
+
+"See for yourself."
+
+There was no disputing it; the vinegar was good, its odor of the
+strongest; the villains, in their haste, had left behind them an
+incontestable proof of their intention to mislead the officers of
+justice. While they were capable of shrewd inventions, they did not have
+the art to perform them well. All their oversights could, however, be
+accounted for by their sudden haste, caused by the occurrence of an
+unlooked-for incident. "The floors of a house where a crime has just
+been committed," said a famous detective, "burn the feet." M. Lecoq
+seemed exasperated, like a true artist, before the gross, pretentious,
+and ridiculous work of some green and bungling scholar.
+
+"These are a parcel of vulgar ruffians, truly! able ones, certainly; but
+they don't know their trade yet, the wretches."
+
+M. Lecoq, indignant, ate three or four lozenges at a mouthful.
+
+"Come, now," said Plantat, in a paternally severe tone. "Don't let's get
+angry. The people have failed in address, no doubt; but reflect that
+they could not, in their calculations, take account of the craft of a
+man like you."
+
+M. Lecoq, who had the vanity which all actors possess, was flattered by
+the compliment, and but poorly dissimulated an expression of pleasure.
+
+"We must be indulgent; come now," pursued Plantat. "Besides," he paused
+a moment to give more weight to what he was going to say, "besides, you
+haven't seen everything yet."
+
+No one could tell when M. Lecoq was playing a comedy. He did not always
+know, himself. This great artist, devoted to his art, practised the
+feigning of all the emotions of the human soul, just as he accustomed
+himself to wearing all sorts of costumes. He was very indignant against
+the assassins, and gesticulated about in great excitement; but he never
+ceased to watch Plantat slyly, and the last words of the latter made him
+prick up his ears.
+
+"Let's see the rest, then," said he.
+
+As he followed his worthy comrade to the garden, he renewed his
+confidences to the dear defunct.
+
+"Confound this old bundle of mystery! We can't take this obstinate
+fellow by surprise, that's clear. He'll give us the word of the riddle
+when we have guessed it; not before. He is as strong as we, my darling;
+he only needs a little practice. But look you--if he has found something
+which has escaped us, he must have previous information, that we don't
+know of."
+
+Nothing had been disturbed in the garden.
+
+"See here, Monsieur Lecoq," said the old justice of the peace, as he
+followed a winding pathway which led to the river. "It was here that one
+of the count's slippers was found; below there, a little to the right of
+these geraniums, his silk handkerchief was picked up."
+
+They reached the river-bank, and lifted, with great care, the planks
+which had been placed there to preserve the foot-prints.
+
+"We suppose," said M. Plantat, "that the countess, in her flight,
+succeeded in getting to this spot; and that here they caught up with her
+and gave her a finishing blow."
+
+Was this really Plantat's opinion, or did he only report the morning's
+theory? M. Lecoq could not tell.
+
+"According to my calculations," he said, "the countess could not have
+fled, but was brought here already dead, or logic is not logic. However,
+let us examine this spot carefully."
+
+He knelt down and studied the sand on the path, the stagnant water, and
+the reeds and water-plants. Then going along a little distance, he threw
+a stone, approaching again to see the effect produced on the mud. He
+next returned to the house, and came back again under the willows,
+crossing the lawn, where were still clearly visible traces of a heavy
+burden having been dragged over it. Without the least respect for his
+pantaloons, he crossed the lawn on all-fours, scrutinizing the smallest
+blades of grass, pulling away the thick tufts to see the earth better,
+and minutely observing the direction of the broken stems. This done, he
+said:
+
+"My conclusions are confirmed. The countess was carried across here."
+
+"Are you sure of it?" asked Plantat.
+
+There was no mistaking the old man's hesitation this time; he was
+clearly undecided, and leaned on the other's judgment for guidance.
+
+"There can be no error, possibly."
+
+The detective smiled, as he added:
+
+"Only, as two heads are better than one, I will ask you to listen to me,
+and then, you will tell me what you think."
+
+M. Lecoq had, in searching about, picked up a little flexible stick, and
+while he talked, he used it to point out this and that object, like the
+lecturer at the panorama.
+
+"No," said he, "Madame de Tremorel did not fly from her murderers. Had
+she been struck down here, she would have fallen violently; her weight,
+therefore, would have made the water spirt to some distance, as well as
+the mud; and we should certainly have found some splashes."
+
+"But don't you think that, since morning, the sun--"
+
+"The sun would have absorbed the water; but the stain of dry mud would
+have remained. I have found nothing of the sort anywhere. You might
+object, that the water and mud would have spirted right and left; but
+just look at the tufts of these flags, lilies, and stems of cane--you
+find a light dust on every one. Do you find the least trace of a drop of
+water? No. There was then no splash, therefore no violent fall;
+therefore the countess was not killed here; therefore her body was
+brought here, and carefully deposited where you found it."
+
+M. Plantat did not seem to be quite convinced yet.
+
+"But there are the traces of a struggle in the sand," said he.
+
+His companion made a gesture of protest.
+
+"Monsieur deigns to have his joke; those marks would not deceive a
+school-boy."
+
+"It appears to me, however--"
+
+"There can be no mistake, Monsieur Plantat. Certain it is that the sand
+has been disturbed and thrown about. But all these trails that lay bare
+the earth which was covered by the sand, were made by the same foot.
+Perhaps you don't believe it. They were made, too, with the end of the
+foot; that you may see for yourself."
+
+"Yes, I perceive it."
+
+"Very well, then; when there has been a struggle on ground like this,
+there are always two distinct kinds of traces--those of the assailant
+and those of the victim. The assailant, throwing himself forward,
+necessarily supports himself on his toes, and imprints the fore part of
+his feet on the earth. The victim, on the contrary, falling back, and
+trying to avoid the assault, props himself on his heels, and therefore
+buries the heels in the soil. If the adversaries are equally strong, the
+number of imprints of the toes and the heels will be nearly equal,
+according to the chances of the struggle. But what do we find here?"
+
+M. Plantat interrupted:
+
+"Enough; the most incredulous would now be convinced." After thinking a
+moment, he added:
+
+"No, there is no longer any possible doubt of it."
+
+M. Lecoq thought that his argument deserved a reward, and treated
+himself to two lozenges at a mouthful.
+
+"I haven't done yet," he resumed. "Granted, that the countess could not
+have been murdered here; let's add that she was not carried hither, but
+dragged along. There are only two ways of dragging a body; by the
+shoulders, and in this case the feet, scraping along the earth, leave
+two parallel trails; or by the legs--in which case the head, lying on
+the earth, leaves a single furrow, and that a wide one."
+
+Plantat nodded assent.
+
+"When I examined the lawn," pursued M. Lecoq, "I found the parallel
+trails of the feet, but yet the grass was crushed over a rather wide
+space. How was that? Because it was the body, not of a man, but of a
+woman, which was dragged across the lawn--of a woman full-dressed, with
+heavy petticoats; that, in short, of the countess, and not of the
+count."
+
+M. Lecoq paused, in expectation of a question, or a remark.
+
+But the old justice of the peace did not seem to be listening, and
+appeared to be plunged in the deepest meditation. Night was falling; a
+light fog hung like smoke over the Seine.
+
+"We must go in," said M. Plantat, abruptly, "and see how the doctor has
+got on with his autopsy."
+
+They slowly approached the house. The judge of instruction awaited them
+on the steps. He appeared to have a satisfied air.
+
+"I am going to leave you in charge," said he to M. Plantat, "for if I am
+to see the procureur, I must go at once. When you sent for him this
+morning, he was absent."
+
+M. Plantat bowed.
+
+"I shall be much obliged if you will watch this affair to the end. The
+doctor will have finished in a few minutes, he says, and will report
+to-morrow morning. I count on your co-operation to put seals wherever
+they are necessary, and to select the guard over the chateau. I shall
+send an architect to draw up an exact plan of the house and garden.
+Well, sir," asked M. Domini, turning to the detective, "have you made
+any fresh discoveries?"
+
+"I have found some important facts; but I cannot speak decisively till I
+have seen everything by daylight. If you will permit me, I will postpone
+making my report till to-morrow afternoon. I think I may say, however,
+that complicated as this affair is--"
+
+M. Domini did not let him finish.
+
+"I see nothing complicated in the affair at all; everything strikes me
+as very simple."
+
+"But," objected M. Lecoq, "I thought--"
+
+"I sincerely regret," continued the judge, "that you were so hastily
+called, when there was really no serious reason for it. The evidences
+against the arrested men are very conclusive."
+
+Plantat and Lecoq exchanged a long look, betraying their great surprise.
+
+"What!" exclaimed the former, "have, you discovered any new
+indications?"
+
+"More than indications, I believe," responded M. Domini. "Old Bertaud,
+whom I have again questioned, begins to be uneasy. He has quite lost his
+arrogant manner. I succeeded in making him contradict himself several
+times, and he finished by confessing that he saw the assassins."
+
+"The assassins!" exclaimed M. Plantat. "Did he say assassins?"
+
+"He saw at least one of them. He persists in declaring that he did not
+recognize him. That's where we are. But prison walls have salutary
+terrors. To-morrow after a sleepless night, the fellow will be more
+explicit, if I mistake not."
+
+"But Guespin," anxiously asked the old man, "have you questioned him?"
+
+"Oh, as for him, everything is clear."
+
+"Has he confessed?" asked M. Lecoq, stupefied.
+
+The judge half turned toward the detective, as if he were displeased
+that M. Lecoq should dare to question him.
+
+"Guespin has not confessed," he answered, "but his case is none the
+better for that. Our searchers have returned. They haven't yet found the
+count's body, and I think it has been carried down by the current. But
+they found at the end of the park, the count's other slipper, among the
+roses; and under the bridge, in the middle of the river, they discovered
+a thick vest which still bears the marks of blood."
+
+"And that vest is Guespin's?"
+
+"Exactly so. It was recognized by all the domestics, and Guespin himself
+did not hesitate to admit that it belonged to him. But that is not
+all--"
+
+M. Domini stopped as if to take breath, but really to keep Plantat in
+suspense. As they differed in their theories, he thought Plantat
+betrayed a stupid opposition to him; and he was not sorry to have a
+chance for a little triumph.
+
+"That is not all," he went on; "this vest had, in the right pocket, a
+large rent, and a piece of it had been torn off. Do you know what became
+of that piece of Guespin's vest?"
+
+"Ah," muttered M. Plantat, "it was that which we found in the countess's
+hand."
+
+"You are right, Monsieur. And what think you of this proof, pray, of the
+prisoner's guilt?"
+
+M. Plantat seemed amazed; his arms fell at his side. As for M. Lecoq,
+who, in presence of the judge, had resumed his haberdasher manner, he
+was so much surprised that he nearly strangled himself with a lozenge.
+
+"A thousand devils!" exclaimed he. "That's tough, that is!" He smiled
+sillily, and added in a low tone, meant only for Plantat's ear.
+
+"Mighty tough! Though quite foreseen in our calculations. The countess
+held a piece of cloth tightly in her hand; therefore it was put there,
+intentionally, by the murderers."
+
+M. Domini did not hear this remark. He shook hands with M. Plantat and
+made an appointment to meet him on the morrow, at the court-house. Then
+he went away with his clerk.
+
+Guespin and old Bertaud, handcuffed, had a few minutes before being led
+off to the prison of Corbeil, under the guard of the Orcival gendarmes.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+Dr. Gendron had just finished his sad task in the billiard-room. He had
+taken off his long coat, and pulled up his shirt-sleeves above his
+elbows. His instruments lay on a table near him; he had covered the body
+with a long white sheet. Night had come, and a large lamp, with a
+crystal globe, lighted up the gloomy scene. The doctor, leaning over a
+water-basin, was washing his hands, when the old justice of the peace
+and the detective entered.
+
+"Ah, it's you, Plantat," said the doctor in a suppressed tone; "where is
+Monsieur Domini?"
+
+"Gone."
+
+The doctor did not take the trouble to repress a vexed motion.
+
+"I must speak with him, though," said he, "it's absolutely
+necessary--and the sooner the better; for perhaps I am wrong--I may be
+mistaken--"
+
+M. Lecoq and M. Plantat approached him, having carefully closed the
+door. The doctor was paler than the corpse which lay under the sheet.
+His usually calm features betrayed great distress. This change could not
+have been caused by the task in which he had been engaged. Of course it
+was a painful one; but M. Gendron was one of those experienced
+practitioners who have felt the pulse of every human misery, and whose
+disgust had become torpid by the most hideous spectacles. He must have
+discovered something extraordinary.
+
+"I am going to ask you what you asked me a while ago," said M. Plantat.
+"Are you ill or suffering?"
+
+M. Gendron shook his head sorrowfully, and answered, slowly and
+emphatically:
+
+"I will answer you, as you did me; 'tis nothing, I am already better."
+
+Then these two, equally profound, turned away their heads, as if fearing
+to exchange their ideas; they doubted lest their looks should betray
+them.
+
+M. Lecoq advanced and spoke.
+
+"I believe I know the cause of the doctor's emotion. He has just
+discovered that Madame de Tremorel was killed by a single blow, and that
+the assassins afterward set themselves to disfiguring the body, when it
+was nearly cold."
+
+The doctor's eyes fastened on the detective, with a stupefied
+expression.
+
+"How could you divine that?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I didn't guess it alone; I ought to share the honor of the theory
+which has enabled us to foresee this fact, with Monsieur Plantat."
+
+"Oh," cried the doctor, striking his forehead, "now, I recollect your
+advice; in my worry, I must say, I had quite forgotten it.
+
+"Well," he added, "your foresight is confirmed. Perhaps not so much time
+as you suppose elapsed between the first blow and the rest; but I am
+convinced that the countess had ceased to live nearly three hours, when
+the last blows were struck."
+
+M. Gendron went to the billiard-table, and slowly raised the sheet,
+discovering the head and part of the bust.
+
+"Let us inform ourselves, Plantat," he said.
+
+The old justice of the peace took the lamp, and passed to the other side
+of the table. His hand trembled so that the globe tingled. The
+vacillating light cast gloomy shadows upon the walls. The countess's
+face had been carefully bathed, the blood and mud effaced. The marks of
+the blows were thus more visible, but they still found upon that livid
+countenance, the traces of its beauty. M. Lecoq stood at the head of the
+table, leaning over to see more clearly.
+
+"The countess," said Dr. Gendron, "received eighteen blows from a
+dagger. Of these, but one is mortal; it is this one, the direction of
+which is nearly vertical--a little below the shoulder, you see." He
+pointed out the wound, sustaining the body in his left arm. The eyes had
+preserved a frightful expression. It seemed as if the half-open mouth
+were about to cry "Help! Help!"
+
+Plantat, the man with a heart of stone, turned away his head, and the
+doctor, having mastered his first emotion, continued in a professionally
+apathetic tone:
+
+"The blade must have been an inch wide, and eight inches long. All the
+other wounds--those on the arms, breast, and shoulders, are
+comparatively slight. They must have been inflicted at least two hours
+after that which caused death."
+
+"Good," said M. Lecoq.
+
+"Observe that I am not positive," returned the doctor quickly. "I merely
+state a probability. The phenomena on which I base my own conviction are
+too fugitive, too capricious in their nature, to enable me to be
+absolutely certain."
+
+This seemed to disturb M. Lecoq.
+
+"But, from the moment when--"
+
+"What I can affirm," interrupted Dr. Gendron, "what I would affirm under
+oath, is, that all the wounds on the head, excepting one, were inflicted
+after death. No doubt of that whatever--none whatever. Here, above the
+eye, is the blow given while the countess was alive."
+
+"It seems to me, Doctor," observed M. Lecoq, "that we may conclude from
+the proved fact that the countess, after death, was struck by a flat
+implement, that she had also ceased to live when she was mutilated by
+the knife."
+
+M. Gendron reflected a moment.
+
+"It is possible that you are right; as for me, I am persuaded of it.
+Still the conclusions in my report will not be yours. The physician
+consulted by the law, should only pronounce upon patent, demonstrated
+facts. If he has a doubt, even the slightest, he should hold his tongue.
+I will say more; if there is any uncertainty, my opinion is that the
+accused, and not the prosecution, should have the benefit of it."
+
+This was certainly not the detective's opinion, but he was cautious not
+to say so. He had followed Dr. Gendron with anxious attention, and the
+contraction of his face showed the travail of his mind.
+
+"It seems to me now possible," said he, "to determine how and where the
+countess was struck."
+
+The doctor had covered the body, and Plantat had replaced the lamp on
+the little table. Both asked M. Lecoq to explain himself.
+
+"Very well," resumed the detective. "The direction of the wound proves
+to me that the countess was in her chamber taking tea, seated, her body
+inclined a little forward, when she was murdered. The assassin came up
+behind her with his arm raised; he chose his position coolly, and struck
+her with terrific force. The violence of the blow was such that the
+victim fell forward, and in the fall, her forehead struck the end of the
+table; she thus gave herself the only fatal blow which we have
+discovered on the head."
+
+M. Gendron looked from one to the other of his companions, who exchanged
+significant glances. Perhaps he suspected the game they were playing.
+
+"The crime must evidently have been committed as you say," said he.
+
+There was another embarrassing silence. M. Lecoq's obstinate muteness
+annoyed Plantat, who finally asked him:
+
+"Have you seen all you want to see?"
+
+"All for to-day; I shall need daylight for what remains. I am confident,
+indeed, that with the exception of one detail that worries me, I have
+the key to the mystery."
+
+"We must be here, then, early to-morrow morning."
+
+"I will be here at any hour you will name."
+
+"Your search finished, we will go together to Monsieur Domini, at
+Corbeil."
+
+"I am quite at your orders."
+
+There was another pause.
+
+M. Plantat perceived that M. Lecoq guessed his thoughts; and did not
+understand the detective's capriciousness; a little while before, he had
+been very loquacious, but now held his tongue. M. Lecoq, on the other
+hand, was delighted to puzzle the old man a little, and formed the
+intention to astonish him the next morning, by giving him a report which
+should faithfully reflect all his ideas. Meanwhile he had taken out his
+lozenge-box, and was intrusting a hundred secrets to the portrait.
+
+"Well," said the doctor, "there remains nothing more to be done except
+to retire."
+
+"I was just going to ask permission to do so," said M. Lecoq. "I have
+been fasting ever since morning."
+
+M. Plantat now took a bold step.
+
+"Shall you return to Paris to-night, Monsieur Lecoq?" asked he,
+abruptly.
+
+"No; I came prepared to remain over-night; I've brought my night-gown,
+which I left, before coming up here, at the little roadside inn below. I
+shall sup and sleep there."
+
+"You will be poorly off at the Faithful Grenadier," said the old justice
+of the peace. "You will do better to come and dine with me."
+
+"You are really too good, Monsieur--"
+
+"Besides, we have a good deal to say, and so you must remain the night
+with me; we will get your night-clothes as we pass along."
+
+M. Lecoq bowed, flattered and grateful for the invitation.
+
+"And I shall carry you off, too, Doctor," continued M. Plantat, "whether
+you will or not. Now, don't say no. If you insist on going to Corbeil
+to-night, we will carry you over after supper."
+
+The operation of fixing the seals was speedily concluded; narrow strips
+of parchment, held by large waxen seals, were affixed to all the doors,
+as well as to the bureau in which the articles gathered for the purposes
+of the investigation had been deposited.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+Despite the haste they made, it was nearly ten o'clock when M. Plantat
+and his guests quitted the chateau of Valfeuillu. Instead of taking the
+high road, they cut across a pathway which ran along beside Mme. de
+Lanascol's park, and led diagonally to the wire bridge; this was the
+shortest way to the inn where M. Lecoq had left his slight baggage. As
+they went along, M. Plantat grew anxious about his good friend, M.
+Courtois.
+
+"What misfortune can have happened to him?" said he to Dr. Gendron.
+
+"Thanks to the stupidity of that rascal of a servant, we learned nothing
+at all. This letter from Mademoiselle Laurence has caused the trouble,
+somehow."
+
+They had now reached the Faithful Grenadier.
+
+A big red-faced fellow was smoking a long pipe at the door, his back
+against the house. He was talking with a railway employee. It was the
+landlord.
+
+"Well, Monsieur Plantat," he cried, "what a horrible affair this is!
+Come in, come in; there are several folks in the hall who saw the
+assassins. What a villain old Bertaud is! And that Guespin; ah, I would
+willingly trudge to Corbeil to see them put up the scaffold!"
+
+"A little charity, Master Lenfant; you forget that both these men were
+among your best customers."
+
+Master Lenfant was confused by this reply; but his native impudence soon
+regained the mastery.
+
+"Fine customers, parbleu!" he answered, "this thief of a Guespin has got
+thirty francs of mine which I'll never see again."
+
+"Who knows?" said Plantat, ironically. "Besides, you are going to make
+more than that to-night, there's so much company at the Orcival
+festival."
+
+During this brief conversation, M. Lecoq entered the inn for his
+night-gown. His office being no longer a secret, he was not now welcomed
+as when he was taken for a simple retired haberdasher. Mme. Lenfant, a
+lady who had no need of her husband's aid to show penniless sots the
+door, scarcely deigned to answer him. When he asked how much he owed,
+she responded, with a contemptuous gesture, "Nothing." When he returned
+to the door, his night-gown in hand, M. Plantat said:
+
+"Let's hurry, for I want to get news of our poor mayor."
+
+The three hastened their steps, and the old justice of the peace,
+oppressed with sad presentiments, and trying to combat them, continued:
+
+"If anything had happened at the mayor's, I should certainly have been
+informed of it by this time. Perhaps Laurence has written that she is
+ill, or a little indisposed. Madame Courtois, who is the best woman in
+the world, gets excited about nothing; she probably wanted to send her
+husband for Laurence at once. You'll see that it's some false alarm."
+
+No; some catastrophe had happened. A number of the village women were
+standing before the mayor's gate. Baptiste, in the midst of the group,
+was ranting and gesticulating. But at M. Plantat's approach, the women
+fled like a troop of frightened gulls. The old man's unexpected
+appearance annoyed the placid Baptiste not a little, for he was
+interrupted, by the sudden departure of his audience, in the midst of a
+superb oratorical flight. As he had a great fear of M. Plantat, however,
+he dissimulated his chagrin with his habitual smile.
+
+"Ah, sir," cried he, when M. Plantat was three steps off, "ah, what an
+affair! I was going for you--"
+
+"Does your master wish me?"
+
+"More than you can think. He ran so fast from Valfeuillu here, that I
+could scarcely keep up with him. He's not usually fast, you know; but
+you ought to have seen him this time, fat as he is!"
+
+M. Plantat stamped impatiently.
+
+"Well, we got here at last," resumed the man, "and monsieur rushed into
+the drawing-room, where he found madame sobbing like a Magdalene. He was
+so out of breath he could scarcely speak. His eyes stuck out of his
+head, and he stuttered like this--'What's-the-matter? What's
+the-matter?' Madame, who couldn't speak either, held out mademoiselle's
+letter, which she had in her hand."
+
+The three auditors were on coals of fire; the rogue perceived it, and
+spoke more and more slowly.
+
+"Then monsieur took the letter, went to the window, and at a glance read
+it through. He cried out hoarsely, thus: 'Oh!' then he went to beating
+the air with his hands, like a swimming dog; then he walked up and down
+and fell, pouf! like a bag, his face on the floor. That was all."
+
+"Is he dead?" cried all three in the same breath.
+
+"Oh, no; you shall see," responded Baptiste, with a placid smile.
+
+M. Lecoq was a patient man, but not so patient as you might think.
+Irritated by the manner of Baptiste's recital, he put down his bundle,
+seized the man's arm with his right hand, while with the left he whisked
+a light flexible cane, and said:
+
+"Look here, fellow, I want you to hurry up, you know."
+
+That was all he said; the servant was terribly afraid of this little
+blond man, with a strange voice, and a fist harder than a vice. He went
+on very rapidly this time, his eye fixed on M. Lecoq's rattan.
+
+"Monsieur had an attack of vertigo. All the house was in confusion;
+everybody except I, lost their heads; it occurred to me to go for a
+doctor, and I started off for one--for Doctor Gendron, whom I knew to be
+at the chateau, or the doctor near by, or the apothecary--it mattered
+not who. By good luck, at the street corner, I came upon Robelot, the
+bone-setter--'Come, follow me,' said I. He did so; sent away those who
+were tending monsieur, and bled him in both arms. Shortly after, he
+breathed, then he opened his eyes, and then he spoke. Now he is quite
+restored, and is lying on one of the drawing-room lounges, crying with
+all his might. He told me he wanted to see Monsieur Plantat, and I--"
+
+"And--Mademoiselle Laurence?" asked M. Plantat, with a trembling voice.
+Baptiste assumed a tragic pose.
+
+"Ah, gentlemen," said he, "don't ask me about her--'tis heartrending!"
+
+The doctor and M. Plantat heard no more, but hurried in; M. Lecoq
+followed, having confided his night-gown to Baptiste, with, "Carry that
+to M. Plantat's--quick!"
+
+Misfortune, when it enters a house, seems to leave its fatal imprint on
+the very threshold. Perhaps it is not really so, but it is the feeling
+which those who are summoned to it experience. As the physician and the
+justice of the peace traversed the court-yard, this house, usually so
+gay and hospitable, presented a mournful aspect. Lights were seen coming
+and going in the upper story. Mlle. Lucile, the mayor's youngest
+daughter, had had a nervous attack, and was being tended. A young girl,
+who served as Laurence's maid, was seated in the vestibule, on the lower
+stair, weeping bitterly. Several domestics were there also, frightened,
+motionless, not knowing what to do in all this fright. The drawing-room
+door was wide open; the room was dimly lighted by two candles; Mme.
+Courtois lay rather than sat in a large arm-chair near the fireplace.
+Her husband was reclining on a lounge near the windows at the rear of
+the apartment. They had taken off his coat and had torn away his
+shirt-sleeves and flannel vest, when he was to be bled. There were
+strips of cotton wrapped about his naked arms. A small man, habited like
+a well-to-do Parisian artisan, stood near the door, with an embarrassed
+expression of countenance. It was Robelot, who had remained, lest any
+new exigency for his services should arise.
+
+The entrance of his friend startled M. Courtois from the sad stupor into
+which he had been plunged. He got up and staggered into the arms of the
+worthy Plantat, saying, in a broken voice:
+
+"Ah, my friend, I am most miserable--most wretched!"
+
+The poor mayor was so changed as scarcely to be recognizable. He was no
+longer the happy man of the world, with smiling face, firm look, the
+pride of which betrayed plainly his self-importance and prosperity. In a
+few hours he had grown twenty years older. He was broken, overwhelmed;
+his thoughts wandered in a sea of bitterness. He could only repeat,
+vacantly, again and again:
+
+"Wretched! most wretched!"
+
+M. Plantat was the right sort of a friend for such a time. He led M.
+Courtois back to the sofa and sat down beside him, and taking his hand
+in his own, forced him to calm his grief. He recalled to him that his
+wife, the companion of his life, remained to him, to mourn the dear
+departed with him. Had he not another daughter to cherish? But the poor
+man was in no state to listen to all this.
+
+"Ah, my friend," said he shuddering, "you do not know all! If she had
+died here, in the midst of us, comforted by our tender care, my despair
+would be great; but nothing compared with that which now tortures me. If
+you only knew--"
+
+M. Plantat rose, as if terrified by what he was about to hear.
+
+"But who can tell," pursued the wretched man, "where or how she died?
+Oh, my Laurence, was there no one to hear your last agony and save you?
+What has become of you, so young and happy?"
+
+He rose, shaking with anguish and cried:
+
+"Let us go, Plantat, and look for her at the Morgue." Then he fell back
+again, muttering the lugubrious word, "the Morgue."
+
+The witnesses of this scene remained, mute, motionless, rigid, holding
+their breath. The stifled sobs and groans of Mme. Courtois and the
+little maid alone broke the silence.
+
+"You know that I am your friend--your best friend," said M. Plantat,
+softly; "confide in me--tell me all."
+
+"Well," commenced M. Courtois, "know"--but his tears choked his
+utterance, and he could not go on. Holding out a crumpled letter, wet
+with tears, he stammered:
+
+"Here, read--it is her last letter."
+
+M. Plantat approached the table, and, not without difficulty, read:
+
+"DEARLY BELOVED PARENTS--
+
+"Forgive, forgive, I beseech you, your unhappy daughter, the distress
+she is about to cause you. Alas! I have been very guilty, but the
+punishment is terrible! In a day of wandering, I forgot all--the example
+and advice of my dear, sainted mother, my most sacred duty, and your
+tenderness. I could not, no, I could not resist him who wept before me
+in swearing for me an eternal love--and who has abandoned me. Now, all
+is over; I am lost, lost. I cannot long conceal my dreadful sin. Oh,
+dear parents, do not curse me. I am your daughter--I cannot bear to face
+contempt, I will not survive my dishonor.
+
+"When this letter reaches you, I shall have ceased to live; I shall have
+quitted my aunt's, and shall have gone far away, where no one will find
+me. There I shall end my misery and despair. Adieu, then, oh, beloved
+parents, adieu! I would that I could, for the last time, beg your
+forgiveness on my knees. My dear mother, my good father, have pity on a
+poor wanderer; pardon me, forgive me. Never let my sister Lucile know.
+Once more, adieu--I have courage--honor commands! For you is the last
+prayer and supreme thought of your poor LAURENCE."
+
+
+Great tears rolled silently down the old man's cheeks as he deciphered
+this sad letter. A cold, mute, terrible anger shrivelled the muscles of
+his face. When he had finished, he said, in a hoarse voice:
+
+"Wretch!"
+
+M. Courtois heard this exclamation.
+
+"Ah, yes, wretch indeed," he cried, "this vile villain who has crept in
+in the dark, and stolen my dearest treasure, my darling child! Alas, she
+knew nothing of life. He whispered into her ear those fond words which
+make the hearts of all young girls throb; she had faith in him; and now
+he abandons her. Oh, if I knew who he was--if I knew--"
+
+He suddenly interrupted himself. A ray of intelligence had just
+illumined the abyss of despair into which he had fallen.
+
+"No," said he, "a young girl is not thus abandoned, when she has a dowry
+of a million, unless for some good reason. Love passes away; avarice
+remains. The infamous wretch was not free--he was married. He could only
+be the Count de Tremorel. It is he who has killed my child."
+
+The profound silence which succeeded proved to him that his conjecture
+was shared by those around him.
+
+"I was blind, blind!" cried he. "For I received him at my house, and
+called him my friend. Oh, have I not a right to a terrible vengeance?"
+
+But the crime at Valfeuillu occurred to him; and it was with a tone of
+deep disappointment that he resumed:
+
+"And not to be able to revenge myself! I could riot, then, kill him with
+my own hands, see him suffer for hours, hear him beg for mercy! He is
+dead. He has fallen under the blows of assassins, less vile than
+himself."
+
+The doctor and M. Plantat strove to comfort the unhappy man; but he went
+on, excited more and more by the sound of his own voice.
+
+"Oh, Laurence, my beloved, why did you not confide in me? You feared my
+anger, as if a father would ever cease to love his child. Lost,
+degraded, fallen to the ranks of the vilest, I would still love thee.
+Were you not my own? Alas! you knew not a father's heart. A father does
+not pardon; he forgets. You might still have been happy, my lost love."
+
+He wept; a thousand memories of the time when Laurence was a child and
+played about his knees recurred to his mind; it seemed as though it were
+but yesterday.
+
+"Oh, my daughter, was it that you feared the world--the wicked,
+hypocritical world? But we should have gone away. I should have left
+Orcival, resigned my office. We should have settled down far away, in
+the remotest corner of France, in Germany, in Italy. With money all is
+possible. All? No! I have millions, and yet my daughter has killed
+herself."
+
+He concealed his face in his hands; his sobs choked him.
+
+"And not to know what has become of her!" he continued. "Is it not
+frightful? What death did she choose? You remember, Doctor, and you,
+Plantat, her beautiful curls about her pure forehead, her great,
+trembling eyes, her long curved lashes? Her smile--do you know, it was
+the sun's ray of my life. I so loved her voice, and her mouth so fresh,
+which gave me such warm, loving kisses. Dead! Lost! And not to know what
+has become of her sweet form--perhaps abandoned in the mire of some
+river. Do you recall the countess's body this morning? It will kill me!
+Oh, my child--that I might see her one hour--one minute--that I might
+give her cold lips one last kiss!"
+
+M. Lecoq strove in vain to prevent a warm tear which ran from his eyes,
+from falling. M. Lecoq was a stoic on principle, and by profession. But
+the desolate words of the poor father overcame him. Forgetting that his
+emotion would be seen, he came out from the shadow where he had stood,
+and spoke to M. Courtois:
+
+"I, Monsieur Lecoq, of the detectives, give you my honor that I will
+find Mademoiselle Laurence's body."
+
+The poor mayor grasped desperately at this promise, as a drowning man to
+a straw.
+
+"Oh, yes, we will find her, won't we? You will help me. They say that to
+the police nothing is impossible--that they see and know everything. We
+will see what has become of my child."
+
+He went toward M. Lecoq, and taking him by the hand:
+
+"Thank you," added he, "you are a good man. I received you ill a while
+ago, and judged you with foolish pride: forgive me. We will succeed--you
+will see, we will aid each other, we will put all the police on the
+scent, we will search through France, money will do it--I have it--I
+have millions--take them--"
+
+His energies were exhausted: he staggered and fell heavily on the
+lounge.
+
+"He must not remain here long," muttered the doctor in Plantat's ear,
+"he must get to bed. A brain fever, after such excitement, would not
+surprise me."
+
+The old justice of the peace at once approached Mme. Courtois, who still
+reclined in the arm-chair, apparently having seen or heard nothing of
+what had passed, and oblivious in her grief.
+
+"Madame!" said he, "Madame!"
+
+She shuddered and rose, with a wandering air.
+
+"It is my fault," said she, "my miserable fault! A mother should read
+her daughter's heart as in a book. I did not suspect Laurence's secret;
+I am a most unhappy mother."
+
+The doctor also came to her.
+
+"Madame," said he, in an imperious tone, "your husband must be persuaded
+to go to bed at once. His condition is very serious, and a little sleep
+is absolutely necessary. I will have a potion prepared--"
+
+"Oh, my God!" cried the poor lady, wringing her hands, in the fear of a
+new misfortune, as bitter as the first; which, however, restored her to
+her presence of mind. She called the servants, who assisted the mayor to
+regain his chamber. Mme. Courtois also retired, followed by the doctor.
+Three persons only remained in the drawing-room--Plantat, Lecoq, and
+Robelot, who still stood near the door.
+
+"Poor Laurence!" murmured Plantat. "Poor girl!"
+
+"It seems to me that her father is most to be pitied," remarked M.
+Lecoq. "Such a blow, at his age, may be more than he can bear. Even
+should he recover, his life is broken."
+
+"I had a sort of presentiment," said the other, "that this misfortune
+would come. I had guessed Laurence's secret, but I guessed it too late."
+
+"And you did not try--"
+
+"What? In a delicate case like this, when the honor of a family depends
+on a word, one must be circumspect. What could I do? Put Courtois on his
+guard? Clearly not. He would have refused to believe me. He is one of
+those men who will listen to nothing, and whom the brutal fact alone can
+undeceive."
+
+"You might have dealt with the Count de Tremorel."
+
+"The count would have denied all. He would have asked what right I had
+to interfere in his affairs."
+
+"But the girl?"
+
+M. Plantat sighed heavily.
+
+"Though I detest mixing up with what does not concern me, I did try one
+day to talk with her. With infinite precaution and delicacy, and without
+letting her see that I knew all, I tried to show her the abyss near
+which she was drawing."
+
+"And what did she reply?"
+
+"Nothing. She laughed and joked, as women who have a secret which they
+wish to conceal, do. Besides, I could not get a quarter of an hour alone
+with her, and it was necessary to act, I knew--for I was her best
+friend--before committing this imprudence of speaking to her. Not a day
+passed that she did not come to my garden and cull my rarest
+flowers--and I would not, look you, give one of my flowers to the Pope
+himself. She had instituted me her florist in ordinary. For her sake I
+collected my briars of the Cape--"
+
+He was talking on so wide of his subject that M. Lecoq could not repress
+a roguish smile. The old man was about to proceed when he heard a noise
+in the hall, and looking up he observed Robelot for the first time. His
+face at once betrayed his great annoyance.
+
+"You were there, were you?" he said.
+
+The bone-setter smiled obsequiously.
+
+"Yes, Monsieur, quite at your service."
+
+"You have been listening, eh?"
+
+"Oh, as to that, I was waiting to see if Madame Courtois had any
+commands for me."
+
+A sudden reflection occurred to M. Plantat; the expression of his eye
+changed. He winked at M. Lecoq to call his attention, and addressing the
+bone-setter in a milder tone, said: "Come here, Master Robelot."
+
+Lecoq had read the man at a glance. Robelot was a small,
+insignificant-looking man, but really of herculean strength. His hair,
+cut short behind, fell over his large, intelligent forehead. His eyes
+shone with the fire of covetousness, and expressed, when he forgot to
+guard them, a cynical boldness. A sly smile was always playing about his
+thin lips, beneath which there was no beard. A little way off, with his
+slight figure and his beardless face, he looked like a Paris gamin--one
+of those little wretches who are the essence of all corruption, whose
+imagination is more soiled than the gutters where they search for lost
+pennies.
+
+Robelot advanced several steps, smiling and bowing. "Perhaps," said he,
+"Monsieur has, by chance, need of me?"
+
+"None whatever, Master Robelot, I only wish to congratulate you on
+happening in so apropos, to bleed Monsieur Courtois. Your lancet has,
+doubtless, saved his life."
+
+"It's quite possible."
+
+"Monsieur Courtois is generous--he will amply recompense this great
+service."
+
+"Oh, I shall ask him nothing. Thank God, I want nobody's help. If I am
+paid my due, I am content."
+
+"I know that well enough; you are prosperous--you ought to be
+satisfied."
+
+M. Plantat's tone was friendly, almost paternal. He was deeply
+interested, evidently, in Robelot's prosperity.
+
+"Satisfied!" resumed the bone-setter. "Not so much as you might think.
+Life is very dear for poor people."
+
+"But, haven't you just purchased an estate near d'Evry?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And a nice place, too, though a trifle damp. Happily you have stone to
+fill it in with, on the land that you bought of the widow Frapesle."
+
+Robelot had never seen the old justice of the peace so talkative, so
+familiar; he seemed a little surprised.
+
+"Three wretched pieces of land!" said he.
+
+"Not so bad as you talk about. Then you've also bought something in the
+way of mines, at auction, haven't you?"
+
+"Just a bunch of nothing at all."
+
+"True, but it pays well. It isn't so bad, you see, to be a doctor
+without a diploma."
+
+Robelot had been several times prosecuted for illegal practicing; so he
+thought he ought to protest against this.
+
+"If I cure people," said he, "I'm not paid for it."
+
+"Then your trade in herbs isn't what has enriched you."
+
+The conversation was becoming a cross-examination. The bone-setter was
+beginning to be restless.
+
+"Oh, I make something out of the herbs," he answered.
+
+"And as you are thrifty, you buy land."
+
+"I've also got some cattle and horses, which bring in something. I raise
+horses, cows, and sheep."
+
+"Also without diploma?"
+
+Robelot waxed disdainful.
+
+"A piece of parchment does not make science. I don't fear the men of the
+schools. I study animals in the fields and the stable, without bragging.
+I haven't my equal for raising them, nor for knowing their diseases."
+
+M. Plantat's tone became more and more winning.
+
+"I know that you are a bright fellow, full of experience. Doctor
+Gendron, with whom you served, was praising your cleverness a moment
+ago."
+
+The bone-setter shuddered, not so imperceptibly as to escape Plantat,
+who continued: "Yes, the good doctor said he never had so intelligent an
+assistant. 'Robelot,' said he, 'has such an aptitude for chemistry, and
+so much taste for it besides, that he understands as well as I many of
+the most delicate operations.'"
+
+"Parbleu! I did my best, for I was well paid, and I was always fond of
+learning."
+
+"And you were an apt scholar at Doctor Gendron's, Master Robelot; he
+makes some very curious studies. His work and experience on poisons are
+above all remarkable."
+
+Robelot's uneasiness became apparent; his look wavered.
+
+"Yes;" returned he, "I have seen some strange experiments."
+
+"Well, you see, you may think yourself lucky--for the doctor is going to
+have a splendid chance to study this sort of thing, and he will
+undoubtedly want you to assist him."
+
+But Robelot was too shrewd not to have already guessed that this
+cross-examination had a purpose. What was M. Plantat after? he asked
+himself, not without a vague terror. And, going over in his mind the
+questions which had been asked, and the answers he had given, and to
+what these questions led, he trembled. He thought to escape further
+questioning by saying:
+
+"I am always at my old master's orders when he needs me."
+
+"He'll need you, be assured," said M. Plantat, who added, in a careless
+tone, which his rapid glance at Robelot belied, "The interest attaching
+to this case will be intense, and the task difficult. Monsieur
+Sauvresy's body is to be disinterred."
+
+Robelot was certainly prepared for something strange, and he was armed
+with all his audacity. But the name of Sauvresy fell upon his head like
+the stroke of a club, and he stammered, in a choked voice:
+
+"Sauvresy!"
+
+M. Plantat had already turned his head, and continued in an indifferent
+tone:
+
+"Yes, Sauvresy is to be exhumed. It is suspected that his death was not
+wholly a natural one. You see, justice always has its suspicions."
+
+Robelot leaned against the wall so as not to fall. M. Plantat proceeded:
+
+"So Doctor Gendron has been applied to. He has, as you know, found
+reactive drugs which betray the presence of an alkaloid, whatever it may
+be, in the substances submitted to him for analysis. He has spoken to me
+of a certain sensitive paper--"
+
+Appealing to all his energy, Robelot forced himself to stand up and
+resume a calm countenance.
+
+"I know Doctor Gendron's process," said he, "but I don't see who could
+be capable of the suspicions of which you speak."
+
+"I think there are more than suspicions," resumed M. Plantat. "Madame de
+Tremorel, you know, has been murdered: her papers have, of course, been
+examined; letters have been found, with very damaging revelations,
+receipts, and so on."
+
+Robelot, apparently, was once more self-possessed; he forced himself to
+answer:
+
+"Bast! let us hope that justice is in the wrong."
+
+Then, such was this man's self-control, despite a nervous trembling
+which shook his whole body as the wind does the leaves, that he added,
+constraining his thin lips to form a smile:
+
+"Madame Courtois does not come down; I am waited for at home, and will
+drop in again to-morrow. Good-evening, gentlemen."
+
+He walked away, and soon the sand in the court was heard creaking with
+his steps. As he went, he staggered like a drunken man.
+
+M. Lecoq went up to M. Plantat, and taking off his hat:
+
+"I surrender," said he, "and bow to you; you are great, like my master,
+the great Tabaret."
+
+The detective's amour-propre was clearly aroused; his professional zeal
+was inspired; he found himself before a great crime--one of those crimes
+which triple the sale of the Gazette of the Courts. Doubtless many of
+its details escaped him: he was ignorant of the starting-point; but he
+saw the way clearing before him. He had surprised Plantat's theory, and
+had followed the train of his thought step by step; thus he discovered
+the complications of the crime which seemed so simple to M. Domini. His
+subtle mind had connected together all the circumstances which had been
+disclosed to him during the day, and now he sincerely admired the old
+justice of the peace. As he gazed at his beloved portrait, he thought,
+"Between the two of us--this old fox and I--we will unravel the whole
+web." He would not, however, show himself to be inferior to his
+companion.
+
+"Monsieur," said he, "while you were questioning this rogue, who will be
+very useful to us, I did not lose any time. I've been looking about,
+under the furniture and so on, and have found this slip of paper."
+
+"Let's see."
+
+"It is the envelope of the young lady's letter. Do you know where her
+aunt, whom she was visiting, lives?"
+
+"At Fontainebleau, I believe."
+
+"Ah; well, this envelope is stamped 'Paris,' Saint-Lazare branch
+post-office. I know this stamp proves nothing--"
+
+"It is, of course, an indication."
+
+"That is not all; I have read the letter itself--it was here on the
+table."
+
+M. Plantat frowned involuntarily.
+
+"It was, perhaps, a liberty," resumed M. Lecoq, "but the end justifies
+the means. Well, you have read this letter; but have you studied it,
+examined the hand-writing, weighed the words, remarked the context of
+the sentences?"
+
+"Ah," cried Plantat, "I was not mistaken then--you had the same idea
+strike you that occurred to me!"
+
+And, in the energy of his excitement he seized the detective's hands and
+pressed them as if he were an old friend. They were about to resume
+talking when a step was heard on the staircase; and presently Dr.
+Gendron appeared.
+
+"Courtois is better," said he, "he is in a doze, and will recover."
+
+"We have nothing more, then, to keep us here," returned M. Plantat.
+"Let's be off. Monsieur Lecoq must be half dead with hunger."
+
+As they went away, M. Lecoq slipped Laurence's letter, with the
+envelope, into his pocket.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+M. Plantat's house was small and narrow; a philosopher's house. Three
+large rooms on the ground-floor, four chambers in the first story, an
+attic under the roof for the servants, composed all its apartments.
+Everywhere the carelessness of a man who has withdrawn from the world
+into himself, for years, ceasing to have the least interest in the
+objects which surround him, was apparent. The furniture was shabby,
+though it had been elegant; the mouldings had come off, the clocks had
+ceased to keep time, the chairs showed the stuffing of their cushions,
+the curtains, in places, were faded by the sun. The library alone
+betrayed a daily care and attention.
+
+Long rows of books in calf and gilt were ranged on the carved oaken
+shelves, a movable table near the fireplace contained M. Plantat's
+favorite books, the discreet friends of his solitude. A spacious
+conservatory, fitted with every accessory and convenience, was his only
+luxury. In it flourished one hundred and thirty-seven varieties of
+briars.
+
+Two servants, the widow Petit, cook and house-keeper, and Louis,
+gardener, inhabited the house. If they did not make it a noisy one, it
+was because Plantat, who talked little, detested also to hear others
+talk. Silence was there a despotic law. It was very hard for Mme. Petit,
+especially at first. She was very talkative, so talkative that when she
+found no one to chat with, she went to confession; to confess was to
+chat. She came near leaving the place twenty times; but the thought of
+an assured pension restrained her. Gradually she became accustomed to
+govern her tongue, and to this cloistral silence. But she revenged
+herself outside for the privations of the household, and regained among
+the neighbors the time lost at home.
+
+She was very much wrought up on the day of the murder. At eleven
+o'clock, after going out for news, she had prepared monsieur's dinner;
+but he did not appear. She waited one, two hours, five hours, keeping
+her water boiling for the eggs; no monsieur. She wanted to send Louis to
+look for him, but Louis being a poor talker and not curious, asked her
+to go herself. The house was besieged by the female neighbors, who,
+thinking that Mme. Petit ought to be well posted, came for news; no news
+to give.
+
+Toward five o'clock, giving up all thought of breakfast, she began to
+prepare for dinner. But when the village bell struck eight o'clock,
+monsieur had not made his appearance. At nine, the good woman was beside
+herself, and began to scold Louis, who had just come in from watering
+the garden, and, seated at the kitchen table, was soberly eating a plate
+of soup.
+
+The bell rung.
+
+"Ah, there's monsieur, at last."
+
+No, it was not monsieur, but a little boy, whom M. Plantat had sent from
+Valfeuillu to apprise Mme. Petit that he would soon return, bringing
+with him two guests who would dine and sleep at the house. The worthy
+woman nearly fainted. It was the first time that M. Plantat had invited
+anyone to dinner for five years. There was some mystery at the bottom of
+it--so thought Mme. Petit, and her anger doubled with her curiosity.
+
+"To order a dinner at this hour," she grumbled. "Has he got
+common-sense, then?" But reflecting that time pressed, she continued:
+
+"Go along, Louis; this is not the moment for two feet to stay in one
+shoe. Hurry up, and wring three chickens' heads; see if there ain't some
+ripe grapes in the conservatory; bring on some preserves; fetch some
+wine from the cellar!" The dinner was well advanced when the bell rung
+again. This time Baptiste appeared, in exceeding bad humor, bearing M.
+Lecoq's night-gown.
+
+"See here," said he to the cook, "what the person, who is with your
+master, gave me to bring here."
+
+"What person?"
+
+"How do I know? He's a spy sent down from Paris about this Valfeuillu
+affair; not much good, probably--ill-bred--a brute--and a wretch."
+
+"But he's not alone with monsieur?"
+
+"No; Doctor Gendron is with them."
+
+Mme. Petit burned to get some news out of Baptiste; but Baptiste also
+burned to get back and know what was taking place at his master's--so
+off he went, without having left any news behind.
+
+An hour or more passed, and Mme. Petit had just angrily declared to
+Louis that she was going to throw the dinner out the window, when her
+master at last appeared, followed by his guests. They had not exchanged
+a word after they left the mayor's. Aside from the fatigues of the
+evening, they wished to reflect, and to resume their self-command. Mme.
+Petit found it useless to question their faces--they told her nothing.
+But she did not agree with Baptiste about M. Lecoq: she thought him
+good-humored, and rather silly. Though the party was less silent at the
+dinner-table, all avoided, as if by tacit consent, any allusion to the
+events of the day. No one would ever have thought that they had just
+been witnesses of, almost actors in, the Valfeuillu drama, they were so
+calm, and talked so glibly of indifferent things. From time to time,
+indeed, a question remained unanswered, or a reply came tardily; but
+nothing of the sensations and thoughts, which were concealed beneath the
+uttered commonplaces, appeared on the surface.
+
+Louis passed to and fro behind the diners, his white cloth on his arm,
+carving and passing the wine. Mme. Petit brought in the dishes, and came
+in thrice as often as was necessary, her ears wide open, leaving the
+door ajar as often as she dared. Poor woman! she had prepared an
+excellent dinner, and nobody paid any attention to it.
+
+M. Lecoq was fond of tit-bits; yet, when Louis placed on the table a
+dish of superb grapes--quite out of season--his mouth did not so much as
+expand into a smile. Dr. Gendron would have been puzzled to say what he
+had eaten. The dinner was nearly over, when M. Plantat began to be
+annoyed by the constraint which the presence of the servants put upon
+the party. He called to the cook:
+
+"You will give us our coffee in the library, and may then retire, as
+well as Louis."
+
+"But these gentlemen do not know their rooms," insisted Mme. Petit,
+whose eavesdropping projects were checked by this order. "They will,
+perhaps, need something."
+
+"I will show them their rooms," said M. Plantat, dryly. "And if they
+need anything, I shall be here."
+
+They went into the library. M. Plantat brought out a box of cigars and
+passed them round:
+
+"It will be healthful to smoke a little before retiring."
+
+M. Lecoq lit an aromatic weed, and remarked:
+
+"You two may go to bed if you like; I am condemned, I see, to a
+sleepless night. But before I go to writing, I wish to ask you a few
+things, Monsieur Plantat."
+
+M. Plantat bowed in token of assent.
+
+"We must resume our conversation," continued the detective, "and compare
+our inferences. All our lights are not too much to throw a little
+daylight upon this affair, which is one of the darkest I have ever met
+with. The situation is dangerous, and time presses. On our acuteness
+depends the fate of several innocent persons, upon whom rest very
+serious charges. We have a theory: but Monsieur Domini also has one, and
+his, let us confess, is based upon material facts, while ours rests upon
+very disputable sensations and logic."
+
+"We have more than sensations," responded M. Plantat.
+
+"I agree with you," said the doctor, "but we must prove it."
+
+"And I will prove it, parbleu," cried M. Lecoq, eagerly. "The affair is
+complicated and difficult--so much the better. Eh! If it were simple, I
+would go back to Paris instanter, and to-morrow I would send you one of
+my men. I leave easy riddles to infants. What I want is the inexplicable
+enigmas, so as to unravel it; a struggle, to show my strength;
+obstacles, to conquer them."
+
+M. Plantat and the doctor looked steadily at the speaker. He was as if
+transfigured. It was the same yellow-haired and whiskered man, in a long
+overcoat: yet the voice, the physiognomy, the very features, had
+changed. His eyes shone with the fire of his enthusiasm, his voice was
+metallic and vibrating, his imperious gesture affirmed the audacity and
+energy of his resolution.
+
+"If you think, my friends," pursued he, "that they don't manufacture
+detectives like me at so much a year, you are right. When I was twenty
+years old, I took service with an astronomer, as his calculator, after a
+long course of study. He gave me my breakfasts and seventy francs a
+month; by means of which I dressed well, and covered I know not how many
+square feet with figures daily."
+
+M. Lecoq puffed vigorously at his cigar a moment, casting a curious
+glance at M. Plantat. Then he resumed:
+
+"Well, you may imagine that I wasn't the happiest of men. I forgot to
+mention that I had two little vices: I loved the women, and I loved
+play. All are not perfect. My salary seemed too small, and while I added
+up my columns of figures, I was looking about for a way to make a rapid
+fortune. There is, indeed, but one means; to appropriate somebody else's
+money, shrewdly enough not to be found out. I thought about it day and
+night. My mind was fertile in expedients, and I formed a hundred
+projects, each more practicable than the others. I should frighten you
+if I were to tell you half of what I imagined in those days. If many
+thieves of my calibre existed, you'd have to blot the word 'property'
+out of the dictionary. Precautions, as well as safes, would be useless.
+Happily for men of property, criminals are idiots."
+
+"What is he coming to?" thought the doctor.
+
+"One day, I became afraid of my own thoughts. I had just been inventing
+a little arrangement by which a man could rob any banker whatever of
+200,000 francs without any more danger or difficulty than I raise this
+cup. So I said to myself, 'Well, my boy, if this goes on a little
+longer, a moment will come when, from the idea, you will naturally
+proceed to the practice.' Having, however, been born an honest lad--a
+mere chance--and being determined to use the talents which nature had
+given me, eight days afterward I bid my astronomer good-morning, and
+went to the prefecture. My fear of being a burglar drove me into the
+police."
+
+"And you are satisfied with the exchange?" asked Dr. Gendron.
+
+"I' faith, Doctor, my first regret is yet to come. I am happy, because I
+am free to exercise my peculiar faculties with usefulness to my race.
+Existence has an enormous attraction for me, because I have still a
+passion which overrides all others--curiosity."
+
+The detective smiled, and continued:
+
+"There are people who have a mania for the theatre. It is like my own
+mania. Only, I can't understand how people can take pleasure in the
+wretched display of fictions, which are to real life what a tallow dip
+is to the sun. It seems to me monstrous that people can be interested in
+sentiments which, though well represented, are fictitious. What! can you
+laugh at the witticisms of a comedian, whom you know to be the
+struggling father of a family? Can you pity the sad fate of the poor
+actress who poisons herself, when you know that on going out you will
+meet her on the boulevards? It's pitiable!"
+
+"Let's shut up the theatres," suggested Dr. Gendron.
+
+"I am more difficult to please than the public," returned M. Lecoq. "I
+must have veritable comedies, or real dramas. My theatre is--society. My
+actors laugh honestly, or weep with genuine tears. A crime is
+committed--that is the prologue; I reach the scene, the first act
+begins. I seize at a glance the minutest shades of the scenery. Then I
+try to penetrate the motives, I group the characters, I link the
+episodes to the central fact, I bind in a bundle all the circumstances.
+The action soon reaches the crisis, the thread of my inductions conducts
+me to the guilty person; I divine him, arrest him, deliver him up. Then
+comes the great scene; the accused struggles, tries tricks, splits
+straws; but the judge, armed with the arms I have forged for him,
+overwhelms the wretch; he does not confess, but he is confounded. And
+how many secondary personages, accomplices, friends, enemies, witnesses
+are grouped about the principal criminal! Some are terrible, frightful,
+gloomy--others grotesque. And you know not what the ludicrous in the
+horrible is. My last scene is the court of assize. The prosecutor
+speaks, but it is I who furnished his ideas; his phrases are
+embroideries set around the canvas of my report. The president submits
+his questions to the jury; what emotion! The fate of my drama is being
+decided. The jury, perhaps, answers, 'Not guilty;' very well, my piece
+was bad, I am hissed. If 'Guilty,' on the contrary, the piece was good,
+I am applauded, and victorious. The next day I can go and see my hero,
+and slapping him on the shoulder, say to him, 'You have lost, old
+fellow, I am too much for you!'"
+
+Was M. Lecoq in earnest now, or was he playing a part? What was the
+object of this autobiography? Without appearing to notice the surprise
+of his companions, he lit a fresh cigar; then, whether designedly or
+not, instead of replacing the lamp with which he lit it on the table, he
+put it on one corner of the mantel. Thus M. Plantat's face was in full
+view, while that of M. Lecoq remained in shadow.
+
+"I ought to confess," he continued, "without false modesty, that I have
+rarely been hissed. Like every man I have my Achilles heel. I have
+conquered the demon of play, but I have not triumphed over my passion
+for woman."
+
+He sighed heavily, with the resigned gesture of a man who has chosen his
+path. "It's this way. There is a woman, before whom I am but an idiot.
+Yes, I the detective, the terror of thieves and murderers, who have
+divulged the combinations of all the sharpers of all the nations, who
+for ten years have swum amid vice and crime; who wash the dirty linen of
+all the corruptions, who have measured the depths of human infamy; I who
+know all, who have seen and heard all; I, Lecoq, am before her, more
+simple and credulous than an infant. She deceives me--I see it--and she
+proves that I have seen wrongly. She lies--I know it, I prove it to
+her--and I believe her. It is because this is one of those passions," he
+added, in a low, mournful tone, "that age, far from extinguishing, only
+fans, and to which the consciousness of shame and powerlessness adds
+fire. One loves, and the certainty that he cannot be loved in return is
+one of those griefs which you must have felt to know its depth. In a
+moment of reason, one sees and judges himself; he says, no, it's
+impossible, she is almost a child, I almost an old man. He says
+this--but always, in the heart, more potent than reason, than will, than
+experience, a ray of hope remains, and he says to himself, 'who
+knows--perhaps!' He awaits, what--a miracle? There are none, nowadays.
+No matter, he hopes on."
+
+M. Lecoq stopped, as if his emotion prevented his going on. M. Plantat
+had continued to smoke mechanically, puffing the smoke out at regular
+intervals; but his face seemed troubled, his glance was unsteady, his
+hands trembled. He got up, took the lamp from the mantel and replaced it
+on the table, and sat down again. The significance of this scene at last
+struck Dr. Gendron.
+
+In short, M. Lecoq, without departing widely from the truth, had just
+attempted one of the most daring experiments of his repertoire, and he
+judged it useless to go further. He knew now what he wished to know.
+After a moment's silence, he shuddered as though awaking from a dream,
+and pulling out his watch, said:
+
+"Par le Dieu! How I chat on, while time flies!"
+
+"And Guespin is in prison," remarked the doctor.
+
+"We will have him out," answered the detective, "if, indeed, he is
+innocent; for this time I have mastered the mystery, my romance, if you
+wish, and without any gap. There is, however, one fact of the utmost
+importance, that I by myself cannot explain."
+
+"What?" asked M. Plantat.
+
+"Is it possible that Monsieur de Tremorel had a very great interest in
+finding something--a deed, a letter, a paper of some sort--something of
+a small size, secreted in his own house?"
+
+"Yes--that is possible," returned the justice of the peace.
+
+"But I must know for certain."
+
+M. Plantat reflected a moment.
+
+"Well then," he went on, "I am sure, perfectly sure, that if Madame de
+Tremorel had died suddenly, the count would have ransacked the house to
+find a certain paper, which he knew to be in his wife's possession, and
+which I myself have had in my hands."
+
+"Then," said M. Lecoq, "there's the drama complete. On reaching
+Valfeuillu, I, like you, was struck with the frightful disorder of the
+rooms. Like you, I thought at first that this disorder was the result of
+design. I was wrong; a more careful scrutiny has convinced me of it. The
+assassin, it is true, threw everything into disorder, broke the
+furniture, hacked the chairs in order to make us think that some furious
+villains had been there. But amid these acts of premeditated violence I
+have followed up the involuntary traces of an exact, minute, and I may
+say patient search. Everything seemed turned topsy-turvy by chance;
+articles were broken open with the hatchet, which might have been opened
+with the hands; drawers had been forced which were not shut, and the
+keys of which were in the locks. Was this folly? No. For really no
+corner or crevice where a letter might be hid has been neglected. The
+table and bureau-drawers had been thrown here and there, but the narrow
+spaces between the drawers had been examined--I saw proofs of it, for I
+found the imprints of fingers on the dust which lay in these spaces. The
+books had been thrown pell-mell upon the floor, but every one of them
+had been handled, and some of them with such violence that the bindings
+were torn off. We found the mantel-shelves in their places, but every
+one had been lifted up. The chairs were not hacked with a sword, for the
+mere purpose of ripping the cloth--the seats were thus examined. My
+conviction of the certainty that there had been a most desperate search,
+at first roused my suspicions. I said to myself, 'The villains have been
+looking for the money which was concealed; therefore they did not belong
+to the household.'"
+
+"But," observed the doctor, "they might belong to the house, and yet not
+know the money was hidden; for Guespin--"
+
+"Permit me," interrupted M. Lecoq, "I will explain myself. On the other
+hand, I found indications that the assassin must have been closely
+connected with Madame de Tremorel--her lover, or her husband. These were
+the ideas that then struck me."
+
+"And now?"
+
+"Now," responded the detective, "with the certainty that something
+besides booty might have been the object of the search, I am not far
+from thinking that the guilty man is he whose body is being searched
+for--the Count Hector de Tremorel."
+
+M. Plantat and Dr. Gendron had divined the name; but neither had as yet
+dared to utter his suspicions. They awaited this name of Tremorel; and
+yet, pronounced as it was in the middle of the night, in this great
+sombre room, by this at least strange personage, it made them shudder
+with an indescribable fright.
+
+"Observe," resumed M. Lecoq, "what I say; I believe it to be so. In my
+eyes, the count's guilt is only as yet extremely probable. Let us see if
+we three can reach the certainty of it. You see, gentlemen, the inquest
+of a crime is nothing more nor less than the solution of a problem.
+Given the crime, proved, patent, you commence by seeking out all the
+circumstances, whether serious or superficial; the details and the
+particulars. When these have been carefully gathered, you classify them,
+and put them in their order and date. You thus know the victim, the
+crime, and the circumstances; it remains to find the third term of the
+problem, that is, x, the unknown quantity--the guilty party. The task is
+a difficult one, but not so difficult as is imagined. The object is to
+find a man whose guilt explains all the circumstances, all the details
+found--all, understand me. Find such a man, and it is probable--and in
+nine cases out of ten, the probability becomes a reality--that you hold
+the perpetrator of the crime."
+
+So clear had been M. Lecoq's exposition, so logical his argument, that
+his hearers could not repress an admiring exclamation:
+
+"Very good! Very good!"
+
+"Let us then examine together if the assumed guilt of the Count de
+Tremorel explains all the circumstances of the crime at Valfeuillu."
+
+He was about to continue when Dr. Gendron, who sat near the window, rose
+abruptly.
+
+"There is someone in the garden," said he.
+
+All approached the window. The weather was glorious, the night very
+clear, and a large open space lay before the library window; they looked
+out, but saw no one.
+
+"You are mistaken, Doctor," said Plantat, resuming his arm-chair.
+
+M. Lecoq continued:
+
+"Now let us suppose that, under the influence of certain events that we
+will examine presently, Monsieur de Tremorel had made up his mind to get
+rid of his wife. The crime once resolved upon, it was clear that the
+count must have reflected, and sought out the means of committing it
+with impunity; he must have weighed the circumstances, and estimated the
+perils of his act. Let us admit, also, that the events which led him to
+this extremity were such that he feared to be disturbed, and that he
+also feared that a search would be made for certain things, even should
+his wife die a natural death."
+
+"That is true," said M. Plantat, nodding his head.
+
+"Monsieur de Tremorel, then, determined to kill his wife, brutally, with
+a knife, with the idea of so arranging everything, as to make it
+believed that he too had been assassinated; and he also decided to
+endeavor to thrust suspicion on an innocent person, or at least, an
+accomplice infinitely less guilty than he.
+
+"He made up his mind in advance, in adopting this course, to disappear,
+fly, conceal himself, change his personality; to suppress, in short,
+Count Hector de Tremorel, and make for himself, under another name, a
+new position and identity. These hypotheses, easily admitted, suffice to
+explain the whole series of otherwise inconsistent circumstances. They
+explain to us in the first place, how it was that on the very night of
+the murder, there was a large fortune in ready money at Valfeuillu; and
+this seems to me decisive. Why, when a man receives sums like this,
+which he proposes to keep by him, he conceals the fact as carefully as
+possible. Monsieur de Tremorel had not this common prudence. He shows
+his bundles of bank-notes freely, handles them, parades them; the
+servants see them, almost touch them. He wants everybody to know and
+repeat that there is a large sum in the house, easy to take, carry off,
+and conceal. And what time of all times, does he choose for this
+display? Exactly the moment when he knows, and everyone in the
+neighborhood knows, that he is going to pass the night at the chateau,
+alone with Madame de Tremorel.
+
+"For he is aware that all his servants are invited, on the evening of
+July 8th to the wedding of the former cook. So well aware of it is he,
+that he defrays the wedding expenses, and himself names the day. You
+will perhaps say that it was by chance that this money was sent to
+Valfeuillu on the very night of the crime. At the worst that might be
+admitted. But believe me, there was no chance about it, and I will prove
+it. We will go to-morrow to the count's banker, and will inquire whether
+the count did not ask him, by letter or verbally, to send him these
+funds precisely on July 8th. Well, if he says yes, if he shows us such a
+letter, or if he declares that the money was called for in person, you
+will confess, no doubt, that I have more than a probability in favor of
+my theory."
+
+Both his hearers bowed in token of assent.
+
+"So far, then, there is no objection."
+
+"Not the least," said M. Plantat.
+
+"My conjectures have also the advantage of shedding light on Guespin's
+position. Honestly, his appearance is against him, and justifies his
+arrest. Was he an accomplice or entirely innocent? We certainly cannot
+yet decide. But it is a fact that he has fallen into an admirably
+well-laid trap. The count, in selecting him for his victim, took all
+care that every doubt possible should weigh upon him. I would wager that
+Monsieur de Tremorel, who knew this fellow's history, thought that his
+antecedents would add probability to the suspicions against him, and
+would weigh with a terrible weight in the scales of justice. Perhaps,
+too, he said to himself that Guespin would be sure to prove his
+innocence in the end, and he only wished to gain time to elude the first
+search. It is impossible that we can be deceived. We know that the
+countess died of the first blow, as if thunderstruck. She did not
+struggle; therefore she could not have torn a piece of cloth off the
+assassin's vest. If you admit Guespin's guilt, you admit that he was
+idiot enough to put a piece of his vest in his victim's hand; you admit
+that he was such a fool as to go and throw this torn and bloody vest
+into the Seine, from a bridge, in a place where he might know search
+would be made--and all this, without taking the common precaution of
+attaching it to a stone to carry it to the bottom. That would be absurd.
+
+"To me, then, this piece of cloth, this smeared vest, indicate at once
+Guespin's innocence and the count's guilt."
+
+"But," objected Dr. Gendron, "if Guespin is innocent, why don't he talk?
+Why don't he prove an alibi? How was it he had his purse full of money?"
+
+"Observe," resumed the detective, "that I don't say he is innocent; we
+are still among the probabilities. Can't you suppose that the count,
+perfidious enough to set a trap for his servant, was shrewd enough to
+deprive him of every means of proving an alibi?"
+
+"But you yourself deny the count's shrewdness."
+
+"I beg your pardon; please hear me. The count's plan was excellent, and
+shows a superior kind of perversity; the execution alone was defective.
+This is because the plan was conceived and perfected in safety, while
+when the crime had been committed, the murderer, distressed, frightened
+at his danger, lost his coolness and only half executed his project. But
+there are other suppositions. It might be asked whether, while Madame de
+Tremorel was being murdered, Guespin might not have been committing some
+other crime elsewhere."
+
+This conjecture seemed so improbable to the doctor that he could not
+avoid objecting to it. "Oh!" muttered he.
+
+"Don't forget," replied Lecoq, "that the field of conjectures has no
+bounds. Imagine whatever complication of events you may, I am ready to
+maintain that such a complication has occurred or will present itself.
+Lieuben, a German lunatic, bet that he would succeed in turning up a
+pack of cards in the order stated in the written agreement. He turned
+and turned ten hours per day for twenty years. He had repeated the
+operation 4,246,028 times, when he succeeded."
+
+M. Lecoq was about to proceed with another illustration, when M. Plantat
+interrupted him by a gesture.
+
+"I admit your hypotheses; I think they are more than probable--they are
+true."
+
+M. Lecoq, as he spoke, paced up and down between the window and the
+book-shelves, stopping at emphatic words, like a general who dictates to
+his aides the plan of the morrow's battle. To his auditors, he seemed a
+new man, with serious features, an eye bright with intelligence, his
+sentences clear and concise--the Lecoq, in short, which the magistrates
+who have employed his talents, would recognize.
+
+"Now," he resumed, "hear me. It is ten o'clock at night. No noise
+without, the road deserted, the village lights extinguished, the chateau
+servants away at Paris. The count and countess are alone at Valfeuillu.
+
+"They have gone to their bedroom.
+
+"The countess has seated herself at the table where tea has been served.
+The count, as he talks with her, paces up and down the chamber.
+
+"Madame de Tremorel has no ill presentiment; her husband, the past few
+days, has been more amiable, more attentive than ever. She mistrusts
+nothing, and so the count can approach her from behind, without her
+thinking of turning her head.
+
+"When she hears him coming up softly, she imagines that he is going to
+surprise her with a kiss. He, meanwhile, armed with a long dagger,
+stands beside his wife. He knows where to strike that the wound may be
+mortal. He chooses the place at a glance; takes aim; strikes a terrible
+blow--so terrible that the handle of the dagger imprints itself on both
+sides of the wound. The countess falls without a sound, bruising her
+forehead on the edge of the table, which is overturned. Is not the
+position of the terrible wound below the left shoulder thus explained--a
+wound almost vertical, its direction being from right to left?"
+
+The doctor made a motion of assent.
+
+"And who, besides a woman's lover or her husband is admitted to her
+chamber, or can approach her when she is seated without her turning
+round?"
+
+"That's clear," muttered M. Plantat.
+
+"The countess is now dead," pursued M. Lecoq. "The assassin's first
+emotion is one of triumph. He is at last rid of her who was his wife,
+whom he hated enough to murder her, and to change his happy, splendid,
+envied existence for a frightful life, henceforth without country,
+friend, or refuge, proscribed by all nations, tracked by all the police,
+punishable by the laws of all the world! His second thought is of this
+letter or paper, this object of small size which he knows to be in his
+wife's keeping, which he has demanded a hundred times, which she would
+not give up to him, and which he must have."
+
+"Add," interrupted M. Plantat, "that this paper was one of the motives
+of the crime."
+
+"The count thinks he knows where it is. He imagines that he can put his
+hand on it at once. He is mistaken. He looks into all the drawers and
+bureaus used by his wife--and finds nothing. He searches every corner,
+he lifts up the shelves, overturns everything in the chamber--nothing.
+An idea strikes him. Is this letter under the mantel-shelf? By a turn of
+the arm he lifts it--down the clock tumbles and stops. It is not yet
+half-past ten."
+
+"Yes," murmured the doctor, "the clock betrays that."
+
+"The count finds nothing under the mantel-shelf except the dust, which
+has retained traces of his fingers. Then he begins to be anxious. Where
+can this paper be, for which he has risked his life? He grows angry. How
+search the locked drawers? The keys are on the carpet--I found them
+among the debris of the tea service--but he does not see them. He must
+have some implement with which to break open everything. He goes
+downstairs for a hatchet. The drunkenness of blood and vengeance is
+dissipated on the staircase; his terrors begin. All the dark corners are
+peopled, now, with those spectres which form the cortege of assassins;
+he is frightened, and hurries on. He soon goes up again, armed with a
+large hatchet--that found on the second story--and makes the pieces of
+wood fly about him. He goes about like a maniac, rips up the furniture
+at hazard; but he pursues a desperate search, the traces of which I have
+followed, among the debris. Nothing, always nothing! Everything in the
+room is topsy-turvy; he goes into his cabinet and continues the
+destruction; the hatchet rises and falls without rest. He breaks his own
+bureau, since he may find something concealed there of which he is
+ignorant. This bureau belonged to the first husband--to Sauvresy. He
+takes out all the books in the library, one by one, shakes them
+furiously, and throws them about the floor. The infernal paper is
+undiscoverable. His distress is now too great for him to pursue the
+search with the least method. His wandering reason no longer guides him.
+He staggers, without calculation, from one thing to another, fumbling a
+dozen times in the same drawer, while he completely forgets others just
+by him. Then he thinks that this paper may have been hid in the stuffing
+of a chair. He seizes a sword, and to be certain, he slashes up the
+drawing-room chairs and sofas and those in the other rooms."
+
+M. Lecoq's voice, accent, gestures, gave a vivid character to his
+recital. The hearer might imagine that he saw the crime committed, and
+was present at the terrible scenes which he described. His companions
+held their breath, unwilling by a movement to distract his attention.
+
+"At this moment," pursued he, "the count's rage and terror were at their
+height. He had said to himself, when he planned the murder, that he
+would kill his wife, get possession of the letter, execute his plan
+quickly, and fly. And now all his projects were baffled! How much time
+was being lost, when each minute diminished the chances of escape! Then
+the probability of a thousand dangers which had not occurred to him,
+entered his mind. What if some friend should suddenly arrive, expecting
+his hospitality, as had occurred twenty times? What if a passer-by on
+the road should notice a light flying from room to room? Might not one
+of the servants return? When he is in the drawing-room, he thinks he
+hears someone ring at the gate; such is his terror, that he lets his
+candle fall--for I have found the marks of it on the carpet. He hears
+strange noises, such as never before assailed his ears; he thinks he
+hears walking in the next room; the floor creaks. Is his wife really
+dead; will she not suddenly rise up, run to the window, and scream for
+help? Beset by these terrors, he returns to the bedroom, seizes his
+dagger, and again strikes the poor countess. But his hand is so unsteady
+that the wounds are light. You have observed, doctor, that all these
+wounds take the same direction. They form right angles with the body,
+proving that the victim was lying down when they were inflicted. Then,
+in the excess of his frenzy, he strikes the body with his feet, and his
+heels form the contusions discovered by the autopsy."
+
+M. Lecoq paused to take breath. He not only narrated the drama, he acted
+it, adding gesture to word; and each of his phrases made a scene,
+explained a fact, and dissipated a doubt. Like all true artists who wrap
+themselves up in the character they represent, the detective really felt
+something of the sensations which he interpreted, and his expressive
+face was terrible in its contortions.
+
+"That," he resumed, "is the first act of the drama. An irresistible
+prostration succeeds the count's furious passion. The various
+circumstances which I am describing to you are to be noticed in nearly
+all great crimes. The assassin is always seized, after the murder, with
+a horrible and singular hatred against his victim, and he often
+mutilates the body. Then comes the period of a prostration so great, of
+torpor so irresistible, that murderers have been known literally to go
+to sleep in the blood, that they have been surprised sleeping, and that
+it was with great difficulty that they were awakened. The count, when he
+has frightfully disfigured the poor lady, falls into an arm-chair;
+indeed, the cloth of one of the chairs has retained some wrinkles, which
+shows that someone had sat in it. What are then the count's thoughts? He
+reflects on the long hours which have elapsed, upon the few hours which
+remain to him. He reflects that he has found nothing; that he will
+hardly have time, before day, to execute his plans for turning suspicion
+from him, and assure his safety, by creating an impression that he, too,
+has been murdered. And he must fly at once--fly, without that accursed
+paper. He summons up his energies, rises, and do you know what he does?
+He seizes a pair of scissors and cuts off his long, carefully cultivated
+beard."
+
+"Ah!" interrupted M. Plantat, "that's why you examined the portrait so
+closely."
+
+M. Lecoq was too intent on following the thread of his deductions to
+note the interruption.
+
+"This is one of those vulgar details," pursued he, "whose very
+insignificance makes them terrible, when they are attended by certain
+circumstances. Now imagine the Count de Tremorel, pale, covered with his
+wife's blood, shaving himself before his glass; rubbing the soap over
+his face, in that room all topsy-turvy, while three steps off lies the
+still warm and palpitating body! It was an act of terrible courage,
+believe me, to look at himself in the glass after a murder--one of which
+few criminals are capable. The count's hands, however, trembled so
+violently that he could scarcely hold his razor, and his face must have
+been cut several times."
+
+"What!" said Dr. Gendron, "do you imagine that the count spared the time
+to shave?"
+
+"I am positively sure of it, pos-i-tive-ly. A towel on which I have
+found one of those marks which a razor leaves when it is wiped--and one
+only--has put me on the track of this fact. I looked about, and found a
+box of razors, one of which had recently been used, for it was still
+moist; and I have carefully preserved both the towel and the box. And if
+these proofs are not enough, I will send to Paris for two of my men, who
+will find, somewhere in the house or the garden, both the count's beard
+and the cloth with which he wiped his razor. As to the fact which
+surprises you, Doctor, it seems to me very natural; more, it is the
+necessary result of the plan he adopted. Monsieur de Tremorel has always
+worn his full beard: he cuts it off, and his appearance is so entirely
+altered, that if he met anyone in his flight, he would not be
+recognized."
+
+The doctor was apparently convinced, for he cried:
+
+"It's clear--it's evident,"
+
+"Once thus disguised, the count hastens to carry out the rest of his
+plan, to arrange everything to throw the law off the scent, and to make
+it appear that he, as well as his wife, has been murdered. He hunts up
+Guespin's vest, tears it out at the pocket, and puts a piece of it in
+the countess's hand. Then taking the body in his arms, crosswise, he
+goes downstairs. The wounds bleed frightfully--hence the numerous stains
+discovered all along his path. Reaching the foot of the staircase he is
+obliged to put the countess down, in order to open the garden-door. This
+explains the large stain in the vestibule. The count, having opened the
+door, returns for the body and carries it in his arms as far as the edge
+of the lawn; there he stops carrying it, and drags it by the shoulders,
+walking backward, trying thus to create the impression that his own body
+has been dragged across there and thrown into the Seine. But the wretch
+forgot two things which betray him to us. He did not reflect that the
+countess's skirts, in being dragged along the grass, pressing it down
+and breaking it for a considerable space, spoiled his trick. Nor did he
+think that her elegant and well-curved feet, encased in small
+high-heeled boots, would mould themselves in the damp earth of the lawn,
+and thus leave against him a proof clearer than the day."
+
+M. Plantat rose abruptly.
+
+"Ah," said he, "you said nothing of this before."
+
+"Nor of several other things, either. But I was before ignorant of some
+facts which I now know; and as I had reason to suppose that you were
+better informed than I, I was not sorry to avenge myself for a caution
+which seemed to me mysterious."
+
+"Well, you are avenged," remarked the doctor, smiling.
+
+"On the other side of the lawn," continued M. Lecoq, "the count again
+took up the countess's body. But forgetting the effect of water when it
+spirts, or--who knows?--disliking to soil himself, instead of throwing
+her violently in the river, he put her down softly, with great
+precaution. That's not all. He wished it to appear that there had been a
+terrible struggle. What does he do? Stirs up the sand with the end of
+his foot. And he thinks that will deceive the police!"
+
+"Yes, yes," muttered Plantat, "exactly so--I saw it."
+
+"Having got rid of the body, the count returns to the house. Time
+presses, but he is still anxious to find the paper. He hastens to take
+the last measures to assure his safety. He smears his slippers and
+handkerchief with blood. He throws his handkerchief and one of his
+slippers on the sward, and the other slipper into the river. His haste
+explains the incomplete execution of his manoeuvres. He hurries--and
+commits blunder after blunder. He does not reflect that his valet will
+explain about the empty bottles which he puts on the table. He thinks he
+is turning wine into the five glasses--it is vinegar, which will prove
+that no one has drunk out of them. He ascends, puts forward the hands of
+the clock, but forgets to put the hands and the striking bell in
+harmony. He rumples up the bed, but he does it awkwardly--and it is
+impossible to reconcile these three facts, the bed crumpled, the clock
+showing twenty minutes past three, and the countess dressed as if it
+were mid-day. He adds as much as he can to the disorder of the room. He
+smears a sheet with blood; also the bed-curtains and furniture. Then he
+marks the door with the imprint of a bloody hand, too distinct and
+precise not to be done designedly. Is there so far a circumstance or
+detail of the crime, which does not explain the count's guilt?"
+
+"There's the hatchet," answered M. Plantat, "found on the second story,
+the position of which seemed so strange to you."
+
+"I am coming to that. There is one point in this mysterious affair,
+which, thanks to you, is now clear. We know that Madame de Tremorel,
+known to her husband, possessed and concealed a paper or a letter, which
+he wanted, and which she obstinately refused to give up in spite of all
+his entreaties. You have told us that the anxiety--perhaps the
+necessity--to have this paper, was a powerful motive of the crime. We
+will not be rash then in supposing that the importance of this paper was
+immense--entirely beyond an ordinary affair. It must have been, somehow,
+very damaging to one or the other. To whom? To both, or only the count?
+Here I am reduced to conjectures. It is certain that it was a
+menace--capable of being executed at any moment--suspended over the head
+of him or them concerned by it. Madame de Tremorel surely regarded this
+paper either as a security, or as a terrible arm which put her husband
+at her mercy. It was surely to deliver himself from this perpetual
+menace that the count killed his wife."
+
+The logic was so clear, the last words brought the evidence out so
+lucidly and forcibly, that his hearers were struck with admiration. They
+both cried:
+
+"Very good!"
+
+"Now," resumed M. Lecoq, "from the various elements which have served to
+form our conviction, we must conclude that the contents of this letter,
+if it can be found, will clear away our last doubts, will explain the
+crime, and will render the assassin's precautions wholly useless. The
+count, therefore, must do everything in the world, must attempt the
+impossible, not to leave this danger behind him. His preparations for
+flight ended, Hector, in spite of his deadly peril, of the speeding
+time, of the coming day, instead of flying recommences with more
+desperation than ever his useless search. Again he goes through all the
+furniture, the books, the papers--in vain. Then he determines to search
+the second story, and armed with his hatchet, goes up to it. He has
+already attacked a bureau, when he hears a cry in the garden. He runs to
+the window--what does he see? Philippe and old Bertaud are standing on
+the river-bank under the willows, near the corpse. Can you imagine his
+immense terror? Now, there's not a second to lose--he has already
+delayed too long. The danger is near, terrible. Daylight has come, the
+crime is discovered, they are coming, he sees himself lost beyond hope.
+He must fly, fly at once, at the peril of being seen, met, arrested. He
+throws the hatchet down violently--it cuts the floor. He rushes down,
+slips the bank-notes in his pocket, seizes Guespin's torn and smeared
+vest, which he will throw into the river from the bridge, and saves
+himself by the garden. Forgetting all caution, confused, beside himself,
+covered with blood, he runs, clears the ditch, and it is he whom old
+Bertaud sees making for the forest of Mauprevoir, where he intends to
+arrange the disorder of his clothes. For the moment he is safe. But he
+leaves behind him this letter, which is, believe me, a formidable
+witness, which will enlighten justice and will betray his guilt and the
+perfidy of his projects. For he has not found it, but we will find it;
+it is necessary for us to have it to defeat Monsieur Domini, and to
+change our doubts into certainty."
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+A long silence followed the detective's discourse. Perhaps his hearers
+were casting about for objections. At last Dr. Gendron spoke:
+
+"I don't see Guespin's part in all this."
+
+"Nor I, very clearly," answered M. Lecoq. "And here I ought to confess
+to you not only the strength, but the weakness also, of the theory I
+have adopted. By this method, which consists of reconstructing the crime
+before discovering the criminal, I can be neither right nor wrong by
+halves. Either all my inferences are correct, or not one of them is.
+It's all, or nothing. If I am right, Guespin has not been mixed up with
+this crime, at least directly; for there isn't a single circumstance
+which suggests outside aid. If, on the other hand, I am wrong--"
+
+M. Lecoq paused. He seemed to have heard some unexpected noise in the
+garden.
+
+"But I am not wrong. I have still another charge against the count, of
+which I haven't spoken, but which seems to be conclusive."
+
+"Oh," cried the doctor, "what now?"
+
+"Two certainties are better than one, and I always doubt. When I was
+left alone a moment with Francois, the valet, I asked him if he knew
+exactly the number of the count's shoes; he said yes, and took me to a
+closet where the shoes are kept. A pair of boots, with green Russia
+leather tops, which Francois was sure the count had put on the previous
+morning, was missing. I looked for them carefully everywhere, but could
+not find them. Again, the blue cravat with white stripes which the count
+wore on the 8th, had also disappeared."
+
+"There," cried M. Plantat, "that is indisputable proof that your
+supposition about the slippers and handkerchief was right."
+
+"I think that the facts are sufficiently established to enable us to go
+forward. Let's now consider the events which must have decided--"
+
+M. Lecoq again stopped, and seemed to be listening. All of a sudden,
+without a word he jumped on the window-sill and from thence into the
+garden, with the bound of a cat which pounces on a mouse. The noise of a
+fall, a stifled cry, an oath, were heard, and then a stamping as if a
+struggle were going on. The doctor and M. Plantat hastened to the
+window. Day was breaking, the trees shivered in the fresh wind of the
+early morning,--objects were vaguely visible without distinct forms
+across the white mist which hangs, on summer nights, over the valley of
+the Seine. In the middle of the lawn, at rapid intervals, they heard the
+blunt noise of a clinched fist striking a living body, and saw two men,
+or rather two phantoms, furiously swinging their arms. Presently the two
+shapes formed but one, then they separated, again to unite; one of the
+two fell, rose at once, and fell again.
+
+"Don't disturb yourselves," cried M. Lecoq's voice. "I've got the
+rogue."
+
+The shadow of the detective, which was upright, bent over, and the
+conflict was recommenced. The shadow stretched on the ground defended
+itself with the dangerous strength of despair; his body formed a large
+brown spot in the middle of the lawn, and his legs, kicking furiously,
+convulsively stretched and contracted. Then there was a moment when the
+lookers-on could not make out which was the detective. They rose again
+and struggled; suddenly a cry of pain escaped, with a ferocious oath.
+
+"Ah, wretch!"
+
+And almost immediately a loud shout rent the air, and the detective's
+mocking tones were heard:
+
+"There he is! I've persuaded him to pay his respects to us--light me up
+a little."
+
+The doctor and his host hastened to the lamp; their zeal caused a delay,
+and at the moment that the doctor raised the lamp, the door was rudely
+pushed open.
+
+"I beg to present to you," said M. Lecoq, "Master Robelot, bone-setter
+of Orcival, herborist by prudence, and poisoner by vocation."
+
+The stupefaction of the others was such that neither could speak.
+
+It was really the bone-setter, working his jaws nervously. His adversary
+had thrown him down by the famous knee-stroke which is the last resort
+of the worst prowlers about the Parisian barriers. But it was not so
+much Robelot's presence which surprised M. Plantat and his friend. Their
+stupor was caused by the detective's appearance; who, with his wrist of
+steel--as rigid as handcuffs--held the doctor's ex-assistant, and pushed
+him forward. The voice was certainly Lecoq's; there was his costume, his
+big-knotted cravat, his yellow-haired watch-chain--still it was no
+longer Lecoq. He was blond, with highly cultivated whiskers, when he
+jumped out the window; he returned, brown, with a smooth face. The man
+who had jumped out was a middle-aged person, with an expressive face
+which was in turn idiotic and intelligent; the man who returned by the
+door was a fine young fellow of thirty-five, with a beaming eye and a
+sensitive lip; a splendid head of curly black hair, brought out vividly
+the pallor of his complexion, and the firm outline of his head and face.
+A wound appeared on his neck, just below the chin.
+
+"Monsieur Lecoq!" cried M. Plantat, recovering his voice.
+
+"Himself," answered the detective, "and this time the true Lecoq."
+Turning to Robelot, he slapped him on the shoulder and added:
+
+"Go on, you."
+
+Robelot fell upon a sofa, but the detective continued to hold him fast.
+
+"Yes," he continued, "this rascal has robbed me of my blond locks.
+Thanks to him and in spite of myself, you see me as I am, with the head
+the Creator gave me, and which is really my own." He gave a careless
+gesture, half angry, half good-humored. "I am the true Lecoq; and to
+tell the truth, only three persons besides yourselves really know
+him--two trusted friends, and one who is infinitely less so--she of whom
+I spoke a while ago."
+
+The eyes of the other two met as if to question each other, and M. Lecoq
+continued:
+
+"What can a fellow do? All is not rose color in my trade. We run such
+dangers, in protecting society, as should entitle us to the esteem, if
+not the affection of our fellow-men: Why, I am condemned to death, at
+this moment, by seven of the most dangerous criminals in France. I have
+caught them, you see, and they have sworn--they are men of their word,
+too--that I should only die by their hands. Where are these wretches?
+Four at Cayenne, one at Brest; I've had news of them. But the other two?
+I've lost their track. Who knows whether one of them hasn't followed me
+here, and whether to-morrow, at the turning of some obscure road, I
+shall not get six inches of cold steel in my stomach?"
+
+He smiled sadly.
+
+"And no reward," pursued he, "for the perils which we brave. If I should
+fall to-morrow, they would take up my body, carry it to my house, and
+that would be the end." The detective's tone had become bitter, the
+irritation of his voice betrayed his rancor. "My precautions happily are
+taken. While I am performing my duties, I suspect everything, and when I
+am on my guard I fear no one. But there are days when one is tired of
+being on his guard, and would like to be able to turn a street corner
+without looking for a dagger. On such days I again become myself; I take
+off my false beard, throw down my mask, and my real self emerges from
+the hundred disguises which I assume in turn. I have been a detective
+fifteen years, and no one at the prefecture knows either my true face or
+the color of my hair."
+
+Master Robelot, ill at ease on his lounge, attempted to move.
+
+"Ah, look out!" cried M. Lecoq, suddenly changing his tone. "Now get up
+here, and tell us what you were about in the garden?"
+
+"But you are wounded!" exclaimed Plantat, observing stains of blood on
+M. Lecoq's shirt.
+
+"Oh, that's nothing--only a scratch that this fellow gave me with a big
+cutlass he had."
+
+M. Plantat insisted on examining the wound, and was not satisfied until
+the doctor declared it to be a very slight one.
+
+"Come, Master Robelot," said the old man, "what were you doing here?"
+
+The bone-setter did not reply.
+
+"Take care," insisted M. Plantat, "your silence will confirm us in the
+idea that you came with the worst designs."
+
+But it was in vain that M. Plantat wasted his persuasive eloquence.
+Robelot shut himself up in a ferocious and dogged silence. M. Gendron,
+hoping, not without reason, that he might have some influence over his
+former assistant, spoke:
+
+"Answer us; what did you come for?"
+
+Robelot made an effort; it was painful, with his broken jaw, to speak.
+
+"I came to rob; I confess it."
+
+"To rob--what?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"But you didn't scale a wall and risk the jail without a definite
+object?"
+
+"Well, then, I wanted--"
+
+He stopped.
+
+"What? Go on."
+
+"To get some rare flowers in the conservatory."
+
+"With your cutlass, hey?" said M. Lecoq. Robelot gave him a terrible
+look; the detective continued:
+
+"You needn't look at me that way--you don't scare me. And don't talk
+like a fool, either. If you think we are duller than you, you are
+mistaken--I warn you of it."
+
+"I wanted the flower-pots," stammered the man.
+
+"Oh, come now," cried M. Lecoq, shrugging his shoulders, "don't repeat
+such nonsense. You, a man that buys large estates for cash, steal
+flower-pots! Tell that to somebody else. You've been turned over
+to-night, my boy, like an old glove. You've let out in spite of yourself
+a secret that tormented you furiously, and you came here to get it back
+again. You thought that perhaps Monsieur Plantat had not told it to
+anybody, and you wanted to prevent him from speaking again forever."
+
+Robelot made a sign of protesting.
+
+"Shut up now," said M. Lecoq. "And your cutlass?"
+
+While this conversation was going on, M. Plantat reflected.
+
+"Perhaps," he murmured, "I've spoken too soon."
+
+"Why so?" asked M. Lecoq. "I wanted a palpable proof for Monsieur
+Domini; we'll give him this rascal, and if he isn't satisfied, he's
+difficult to please."
+
+"But what shall we do with him?"
+
+"Shut him up somewhere in the house; if necessary, I'll tie him up."
+
+"Here's a dark closet."
+
+"Is it secure?"
+
+"There are thick walls on three sides of it, and the fourth is closed
+with a double door; no openings, no windows, nothing."
+
+"Just the place."
+
+M. Plantat opened the closet, a black-looking hole, damp, narrow, and
+full of old books and papers.
+
+"There," said M. Lecoq to his prisoner, "in here you'll be like a little
+king," and he pushed him into the closet. Robelot did not resist, but he
+asked for some water and a light. They gave him a bottle of water and a
+glass.
+
+"As for a light," said M. Lecoq, "you may dispense with it. You'll be
+playing us some dirty trick."
+
+M. Plantat, having shut the closet-door, took the detective's hand.
+
+"Monsieur," said he, earnestly, "you have probably just saved my life at
+the peril of your own; I will not thank you. The day will come, I trust,
+when I may--"
+
+The detective interrupted him with a gesture.
+
+"You know how I constantly expose myself," said he, "once more or less
+does not matter much. Besides, it does not always serve a man to save
+his life." He was pensive a moment, then added: "You will thank me after
+awhile, when I have gained other titles to your gratitude."
+
+M. Gendron also cordially shook the detective's hand, saying:
+
+"Permit me to express my admiration of you. I had no idea what the
+resources of such a man as you were. You got here this morning without
+information, without details, and by the mere scrutiny of the scene of
+the crime, by the sole force of reasoning, have found the criminal:
+more, you have proved to us that the criminal could be no other than he
+whom you have named."
+
+M. Lecoq bowed modestly. These praises evidently pleased him greatly.
+
+"Still," he answered, "I am not yet quite satisfied. The guilt of the
+Count de Tremorel is of course abundantly clear to me. But what motives
+urged him? How was he led to this terrible impulse to kill his wife, and
+make it appear that he, too, had been murdered?"
+
+"Might we not conclude," remarked the doctor, "that, disgusted with
+Madame de Tremorel, he has got rid of her to rejoin another woman,
+adored by him to madness?"
+
+M. Lecoq shook his head.
+
+"People don't kill their wives for the sole reason that they are tired
+of them and love others. They quit their wives, live with the new
+loves--that's all. That happens every day, and neither the law nor
+public opinion condemns such people with great severity."
+
+"But it was the wife who had the fortune."
+
+"That wasn't the case here. I have been posting myself up. M. de
+Tremorel had a hundred thousand crowns, the remains of a colossal
+fortune saved by his friend Sauvresy; and his wife by the marriage
+contract made over a half million to him. A man can live in ease
+anywhere on eight hundred thousand francs. Besides, the count was master
+of all the funds of the estate. He could sell, buy, realize, borrow,
+deposit, and draw funds at will."
+
+The doctor had nothing to reply. M. Lecoq went on, speaking with a
+certain hesitation, while his eyes interrogated M. Plantat.
+
+"We must find the reasons of this murder, and the motives of the
+assassin's terrible resolution--in the past. Some crime so indissolubly
+linked the count and countess, that only the death of one of them could
+free the other. I suspected this crime the first thing this morning, and
+have seen it all the way through; and the man that we have just shut up
+in there--Robelot--who wanted to murder Monsieur Plantat, was either the
+agent or the accomplice of this crime."
+
+The doctor had not been present at the various episodes which, during
+the day at Valfeuillu and in the evening at the mayor's, had established
+a tacit understanding between Plantat and Lecoq. He needed all the
+shrewdness he possessed to fill up the gaps and understand the hidden
+meanings of the conversation to which he had been listening for two
+hours. M. Lecoq's last words shed a ray of light upon it all, and the
+doctor cried, "Sauvresy!"
+
+"Yes--Sauvresy," answered M. Lecoq. "And the paper which the murderer
+hunted for so eagerly, for which he neglected his safety and risked his
+life, must contain the certain proof of the crime."
+
+M. Plantat, despite the most significant looks and the direct
+provocation to make an explanation, was silent. He seemed a hundred
+leagues off in his thoughts, and his eyes, wandering in space, seemed to
+follow forgotten episodes in the mists of the past. M. Lecoq, after a
+brief pause, decided to strike a bold blow.
+
+"What a past that must have been," exclaimed he, "which could drive a
+young, rich, happy man like Hector de Tremorel to plan in cool blood
+such a crime, to resign himself to disappear after it, to cease to
+exist, as it were to lose all at once his personality, his position, his
+honor and his name! What a past must be that which drives a young girl
+of twenty to suicide!"
+
+M. Plantat started up, pale, more moved than he had yet appeared.
+
+"Ah," cried he, in an altered voice, "you don't believe what you say!
+Laurence never knew about it, never!"
+
+The doctor, who was narrowly watching the detective, thought he saw a
+faint smile light up his mobile features. The old justice of the peace
+went on, now calmly and with dignity, in a somewhat haughty tone:
+
+"You didn't need tricks or subterfuge, Monsieur Lecoq, to induce me to
+tell what I know. I have evinced enough esteem and confidence in you to
+deprive you of the right to arm yourself against me with the sad secret
+which you have surprised."
+
+M. Lecoq, despite his cool-headedness, was disconcerted.
+
+"Yes," pursued M. Plantat, "your astonishing genius for penetrating
+dramas like this has led you to the truth. But you do not know all, and
+even now I would hold my tongue, had not the reasons which compelled me
+to be silent ceased to exist."
+
+He opened a secret drawer in an old oaken desk near the fireplace and
+took out a large paper package, which he laid on the table.
+
+"For four years," he resumed, "I have followed, day by day--I might say,
+hour by hour--the various phases of the dreadful drama which ended in
+blood last night at Valfeuillu. At first, the curiosity of an old
+retired attorney prompted me. Later, I hoped to save the life and honor
+of one very dear to me. Why did I say nothing of my discoveries? That,
+my friends, is the secret of my conscience--it does not reproach me.
+Besides, I shut my eyes to the evidence even up to yesterday; I needed
+the brutal testimony of this deed!"
+
+Day had come. The frightened blackbirds flew whistling by. The pavement
+resounded with the wooden shoes of the workmen going fieldward. No noise
+troubled the sad stillness of the library, unless it were the rustling
+of the leaves which M. Plantat was turning over, or now and then a groan
+from Robelot.
+
+"Before commencing," said the old man, "I ought to consider your
+weariness; we have been up twenty-four hours--"
+
+But the others protested that they did not need repose. The fever of
+curiosity had chased away their exhaustion. They were at last to know
+the key of the mystery.
+
+"Very well," said their host, "listen to me."
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+
+The Count Hector de Tremorel, at twenty-six, was the model and ideal of
+the polished man of the world, proper to our age; a man useless alike to
+himself and to others, harmful even, seeming to have been placed on
+earth expressly to play at the expense of all. Young, noble, elegant,
+rich by millions, endowed with vigorous health, this last descendant of
+a great family squandered most foolishly and ignobly both his youth and
+his patrimony. He acquired by excesses of all kinds a wide and
+unenviable celebrity. People talked of his stables, his carriages, his
+servants, his furniture, his dogs, his favorite loves. His cast-off
+horses still took prizes, and a jade distinguished by his notice was
+eagerly sought by the young bloods of the town. Do not think, however,
+that he was naturally vicious; he had a warm heart, and even generous
+emotions at twenty. Six years of unhealthy pleasures had spoiled him to
+the marrow. Foolishly vain, he was ready to do anything to maintain his
+notoriety. He had the bold and determined egotism of one who has never
+had to think of anyone but himself, and has never suffered. Intoxicated
+by the flatteries of the so-called friends who drew his money from him,
+he admired himself, mistaking his brutal cynicism for wit, and his lofty
+disdain of all morality and his idiotic scepticism, for character. He
+was also feeble; he had caprices, but never a will; feeble as a child, a
+woman, a girl. His biography was to be found in the petty journals of
+the day, which retailed his sayings--or what he might have said; his
+least actions and gestures were reported.
+
+One night when he was supping at the Cafe de Paris, he threw all the
+plates out the window. It cost him twenty thousand francs. Bravo! One
+morning gossiping Paris learned with stupefaction that he had eloped to
+Italy with the wife of X---, the banker, a lady nineteen years married.
+He fought a duel, and killed his man. The week after, he was wounded in
+another. He was a hero! On one occasion he went to Baden, where he broke
+the bank. Another time, after playing sixty hours, he managed to lose
+one hundred and twenty thousand francs--won by a Russian prince.
+
+He was one of those men whom success intoxicates, who long for applause,
+but who care not for what they are applauded. Count Hector was more than
+ravished by the noise he made in the world. It seemed to him the acme of
+honor and glory to have his name or initials constantly in the columns
+of the Parisian World. He did not betray this, however, but said, with
+charming modesty, after each new adventure:
+
+"When will they stop talking about me?"
+
+On great occasions, he borrowed from Louis XIV the epigram:
+
+"After me the deluge."
+
+The deluge came in his lifetime.
+
+One April morning, his valet, a villainous fellow, drilled and dressed
+up by the count--woke him at nine o'clock with this speech:
+
+"Monsieur, a bailiff is downstairs in the ante-chamber, and has come to
+seize your furniture."
+
+Hector turned on his pillow, yawned, stretched, and replied:
+
+"Well, tell him to begin operations with the stables and carriage-house;
+and then come up and dress me."
+
+He did not seem disturbed, and the servant retired amazed at his
+master's coolness. The count had at least sense enough to know the state
+of his finances; and he had foreseen, nay, expected the bailiff's visit.
+Three years before, when he had been laid up for six weeks in
+consequence of a fall from his horse, he had measured the depth of the
+gulf toward which he was hastening. Then, he might yet have saved
+himself. But he must have changed his whole course of life, reformed his
+household, learned that twenty-one franc pieces made a napoleon. Fie,
+never! After mature reflection he had said to himself that he would go
+on to the end. When the last hour came, he would fly to the other end of
+France, erase his name from his linen, and blow his brains out in some
+forest.
+
+This hour had now come.
+
+By contracting debts, signing bills, renewing obligations, paying
+interests and compound interests, giving commissions by always
+borrowing, and never paying, Hector had consumed the princely
+heritage--nearly four millions in lands--which he had received at his
+father's death. The winter just past had cost him fifty thousand crowns.
+He had tried eight days before to borrow a hundred thousand francs, and
+had failed. He had been refused, not because his property was not as
+much as he owed, but because it was known that property sold by a
+bankrupt does not bring its value.
+
+Thus it was that when the valet came in and said, "The bailiff is here,"
+he seemed like a spectre commanding suicide.
+
+Hector took the announcement coolly and said, as he got up:
+
+"Well, here's an end of it."
+
+He was very calm, though a little confused. A little confusion is
+excusable when a man passes from wealth to beggary. He thought he would
+make his last toilet with especial care. Parbleu! The French nobility
+goes into battle in court costume! He was ready in less than an hour. He
+put on his bejewelled watch-chain; then he put a pair of little pistols,
+of the finest quality, in his overcoat pocket; then he sent the valet
+away, and opening his desk, he counted up what funds he had left. Ten
+thousand and some hundreds of francs remained. He might with this sum
+take a journey, prolong his life two or three months; but he repelled
+with disdain the thought of a miserable subterfuge, of a reprieve in
+disguise. He imagined that with this money he might make a great show of
+generosity, which would be talked of in the world; it would be
+chivalrous to breakfast with his inamorata and make her a present of
+this money at dessert. During the meal he would be full of nervous
+gayety, of cynical humor, and then he would announce his intention to
+kill himself. The girl would not fail to narrate the scene everywhere;
+she would repeat his last conversation, his last will and gift; all the
+cafes would buzz with it at night; the papers would be full of it.
+
+This idea strangely excited him, and comforted him at once. He was going
+out, when his eyes fell upon the mass of papers in his desk. Perhaps
+there was something there which might dim the positiveness of his
+resolution. He emptied all the drawers without looking or choosing, and
+put all the papers in the fire. He looked with pride upon this
+conflagration; there were bills, love letters, business letters, bonds,
+patents of nobility, deeds of property. Was it not his brilliant past
+which flickered and consumed in the fireplace?
+
+The bailiff occurred to him, and he hastily descended. He was the most
+polite of bailiffs, a man of taste and wit, a friend of artists, himself
+a poet at times. He had already seized eight horses in the stables with
+all their harness and trappings, and five carriages with their equipage,
+in the carriage-house.
+
+"I'm going on slowly, Count," said he bowing. "Perhaps you wish to
+arrest the execution. The sum is large, to be sure, but a man in your
+position--"
+
+"Believe that you are here because it suits me," interrupted Hector,
+proudly, "this house doesn't suit me; I shall never enter it again. So,
+as you are master, go on."
+
+And wheeling round on his heel he went off.
+
+The astonished bailiff proceeded with his work. He went from room to
+room, admiring and seizing. He seized cups gained at the races,
+collections of pipes and arms, and the library, containing many
+sporting-books, superbly bound.
+
+Meanwhile the Count de Tremorel, who was resolved more than ever on
+suicide, ascending the boulevards came to his inamorata's house, which
+was near the Madeleine. He had introduced her some six months before
+into the demi-monde as Jenny Fancy. Her real name was Pelagie Taponnet,
+and although the count did not know it, she was his valet's sister. She
+was pretty and lively, with delicate hands and a tiny foot, superb
+chestnut hair, white teeth, and great impertinent black eyes, which were
+languishing, caressing, or provoking, at will. She had passed suddenly
+from the most abject poverty to a state of extravagant luxury. This
+brilliant change did not astonish her as much as you might think.
+Forty-eight hours after her removal to her new apartments, she had
+established order among the servants; she made them obey a glance or a
+gesture; and she made her dress-makers and milliners submit with good
+grace to her orders. Jenny soon began to languish, in her fine rooms,
+for new excitement; her gorgeous toilets no longer amused her. A woman's
+happiness is not complete unless seasoned by the jealousy of rivals.
+Jenny's rivals lived in the Faubourg du Temple, near the barrier; they
+could not envy her splendor, for they did not know her, and she was
+strictly forbidden to associate with and so dazzle them. As for
+Tremorel, Jenny submitted to him from necessity. He seemed to her the
+most tiresome of men. She thought his friends the dreariest of beings.
+Perhaps she perceived beneath their ironically polite manner, a contempt
+for her, and understood of how little consequence she was to these rich
+people, these high livers, gamblers, men of the world. Her pleasures
+comprised an evening with someone of her own class, card-playing, at
+which she won, and a midnight supper. The rest of the time she suffered
+ennui. She was wearied to death: A hundred times she was on the point of
+discarding Tremorel, abandoning all this luxury, money, servants, and
+resuming her old life. Many a time she packed up; her vanity always
+checked her at the last moment.
+
+Hector de Tremorel rang at her door at eleven on the morning in
+question. She did not expect him so early, and she was evidently
+surprised when he told her he had come to breakfast, and asked her to
+hasten the cook, as he was in a great hurry.
+
+She had never, she thought, seen him so amiable, so gay. All through
+breakfast he sparkled, as he promised himself he would, with spirit and
+fun. At last, while they were sipping their coffee, Hector spoke:
+
+"All this, my dear, is only a preface, intended to prepare you for a
+piece of news which will surprise you. I am a ruined man."
+
+She looked at him with amazement, not seeming to comprehend him.
+
+"I said--ruined," said he, laughing bitterly, "as ruined as man can be."
+
+"Oh, you are making fun of me, joking--"
+
+"I never spoke so seriously in my life. It seems strange to you, doesn't
+it? Yet it's sober truth."
+
+Jenny's large eyes continued to interrogate him.
+
+"Why," he continued, with lofty carelessness, "life, you know, is like a
+bunch of grapes, which one either eats gradually, piece by piece, or
+squeezes into a glass to be tossed off at a gulp. I've chosen the latter
+way. My grape was four million francs; they are drunk up to the dregs. I
+don't regret them, I've had a jolly life for my money. But now I can
+flatter myself that I am as much of a beggar as any beggar in France.
+Everything at my house is in the bailiff's hands--I am without a
+domicile, without a penny."
+
+He spoke with increasing animation as the multitude of diverse thoughts
+passed each other tumultuously in his brain. And he was not playing a
+part. He was speaking in all good faith.
+
+"But--then--" stammered Jenny.
+
+"What? Are you free? Just so--"
+
+She hardly knew whether to rejoice or mourn.
+
+"Yes," he continued, "I give you back your liberty."
+
+Jenny made a gesture which Hector misunderstood.
+
+"Oh! be quiet," he added quickly, "I sha'n't leave you thus; I would not
+desert you in a state of need. This furniture is yours, and I have
+provided for you besides. Here in my pocket are five hundred napoleons;
+it is my all; I have brought it to give to you."
+
+He passed the money over to her on a plate, laughingly, imitating the
+restaurant waiters. She pushed it back with a shudder.
+
+"Oh, well," said he, "that's a good sign, my dear; very good, very good.
+I've always thought and said that you were a good girl--in fact, too
+good; you needed correcting."
+
+She did, indeed, have a good heart; for instead of taking Hector's
+bank-notes and turning him out of doors, she tried to comfort and
+console him. Since he had confessed to her that he was penniless, she
+ceased to hate him, and even commenced to love him. Hector, homeless,
+was no longer the dreaded man who paid to be master, the millionnaire
+who, by a caprice, had raised her from the gutter. He was no longer the
+execrated tyrant. Ruined, he descended from his pedestal, he became a
+man like others, to be preferred to others, as a handsome and gallant
+youth. Then Jenny mistook the last artifice of a discarded vanity for a
+generous impulse of the heart, and was deeply touched by this splendid
+last gift.
+
+"You are not as poor as you say," she said, "for you still have so large
+a sum."
+
+"But, dear child, I have several times given as much for diamonds which
+you envied."
+
+She reflected a moment, then as if an idea had struck her, exclaimed:
+
+"That's true enough; but I can spend, oh, a great deal less, and yet be
+just as happy. Once, before I knew you, when I was young (she was now
+nineteen), ten thousand francs seemed to me to be one of those fabulous
+sums which were talked about, but which few men ever saw in one pile,
+and fewer still held in their hands."
+
+She tried to slip the money into the count's pocket; but he prevented
+it.
+
+"Come, take it back, keep it--"
+
+"What shall I do with it?"
+
+"I don't know, but wouldn't this money bring in more? Couldn't you
+speculate on the Bourse, bet at the races, play at Baden, or something?
+I've heard of people that are now rich as kings, who commenced with
+nothing, and hadn't your talents either. Why don't you do as they did?"
+
+She spoke excitedly, as a woman does who is anxious to persuade. He
+looked at her, astonished to find her so sensitive, so disinterested.
+
+"You will, won't you?" she insisted, "now, won't you?"
+
+"You are a good girl," said he, charmed with her, "but you must take
+this money. I give it to you, don't be worried about anything."
+
+"But you--have you still any money? What have you?"
+
+"I have yet--"
+
+He stopped, searched his pockets, and counted the money in his purse.
+
+"Faith, here's three hundred and forty francs--more than I need. I must
+give some napoleons to your servants before I go."
+
+"And what for Heaven's sake will become of you?"
+
+He sat back in his chair, negligently stroked his handsome beard, and
+said:
+
+"I am going to blow my brains out."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+Hector thought that she doubted what he said. He took his pistols out of
+his pockets, showed them to her, and went on:
+
+"You see these toys? Well, when I leave you, I shall go somewhere--no
+matter where--put the muzzle to my temple, thus, press the trigger--and
+all will be over!"
+
+She gazed at him, her eyes dilated with terror, pale, breathing hard and
+fast. But at the same time, she admired him. She marvelled at so much
+courage, at this calm, this careless railing tone. What superb disdain
+of life! To exhaust his fortune and then kill himself, without a cry, a
+tear, or a regret, seemed to her an act of heroism unheard of,
+unexampled. It seemed to her that a new, unknown, beautiful, radiant man
+stood before her. She loved him as she had never loved before!
+
+"No!" she cried, "no! It shall not be!"
+
+And rising suddenly, she rushed to him and seized him by the arm.
+
+"You will not kill yourself, will you? Promise me, swear it to me. It
+isn't possible, you would not! I love you--I couldn't bear you before.
+Oh, I did not know you, but now--come, we will be happy. You, who have
+lived with millions don't know how much ten thousand francs are--but I
+know. We can live a long time on that, and very well, too. Then, if we
+are obliged to sell the useless things--the horses, carriages, my
+diamonds, my green cashmere, we can have three or four times that sum.
+Thirty thousand francs--it's a fortune! Think how many happy days--"
+
+The Count de Tremorel shook his head, smilingly. He was ravished; his
+vanity was flattered by the heat of the passion which beamed from the
+poor girl's eyes. How he was beloved! How he would be regretted! What a
+hero the world was about to lose!
+
+"For we will not stay here," Jenny went on, "we will go and conceal
+ourselves far from Paris, in a little cottage. Why, on the other side of
+Belleville you can get a place surrounded by gardens for a thousand
+francs a year. How well off we should be there! You would never leave
+me, for I should be jealous--oh, so jealous! We wouldn't have any
+servants, and you should see that I know how to keep house."
+
+Hector said nothing.
+
+"While the money lasts," continued Jenny, "we'll laugh away the days.
+When it's all gone, if you are still decided, you will kill
+yourself--that is, we will kill ourselves together. But not with a
+pistol--No! We'll light a pan of charcoal, sleep in one another's arms,
+and that will be the end. They say one doesn't suffer that way at all."
+
+This idea drew Hector from his torpor, and awoke in him a recollection
+which ruffled all his vanity.
+
+Three or four days before, he had read in a paper the account of the
+suicide of a cook, who, in a fit of love and despair, had bravely
+suffocated himself in his garret. Before dying he had written a most
+touching letter to his faithless love. The idea of killing himself like
+a cook made him shudder. He saw the possibility of the horrible
+comparison. How ridiculous! And the Count de Tremorel had a wholesome
+fear of ridicule. To suffocate himself, at Belleville, with a grisette,
+how dreadful! He almost rudely pushed Jenny's arms away, and repulsed
+her.
+
+"Enough of that sort of thing," said he, in his careless tone. "What you
+say, child, is all very pretty, but utterly absurd. A man of my name
+dies, and doesn't choke." And taking the bank-notes from his pocket,
+where Jenny had slipped them, he threw them on the table.
+
+"Now, good-by."
+
+He would have gone, but Jenny, red and with glistening eyes, barred the
+door with her body.
+
+"You shall not go!" she cried, "I won't have you; you are mine--for I
+love you; if you take one step, I will scream."
+
+The count shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"But we must end all this!"
+
+"You sha'n't go!"
+
+"Well, then, I'll blow my brains out here." And taking out one of his
+pistols, he held it to his forehead, adding, "If you call out and don't
+let me pass, I shall fire." He meant the threat for earnest.
+
+But Jenny did not call out; she could not; she uttered a deep groan and
+fainted.
+
+"At last!" muttered Hector, replacing the pistol in his pocket.
+
+He went out, not taking time to lift her from the floor where she had
+fallen, and shut the door. Then he called the servants into the
+vestibule, gave them ten napoleons to divide among them, and hastened
+away.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+
+The Count de Tremorel, having reached the street, ascended the
+boulevard. All of a sudden he bethought him of his friends. The story of
+the execution must have already spread.
+
+"No; not that way," he muttered.
+
+This was because, on the boulevard, he would certainly meet some of his
+very dear cronies, and he desired to escape their condolence and offers
+of service. He pictured to himself their sorry visages, concealing a
+hidden and delicious satisfaction. He had wounded so many vanities that
+he must look for terrible revenges. The friends of an insolently
+prosperous man are rejoiced in his downfall.
+
+Hector crossed the street, went along the Rue Duphot, and reached the
+quays. Where was he going? He did not know, and did not even ask
+himself. He walked at random, enjoying the physical content which
+follows a good meal, happy to find himself still in the land of the
+living, in the soft April sunlight.
+
+The weather was superb, and all Paris was out of doors. There was a
+holiday air about the town. The flower-women at the corners of the
+bridges had their baskets full of odorous violets. The count bought a
+bouquet near the Pont Neuf and stuck it in his button-hole, and without
+waiting for his change, passed on. He reached the large square at the
+end of the Bourdon boulevard, which is always full of jugglers and
+curiosity shows; here the noise, the music, drew him from his torpor,
+and brought his thoughts back to his present situation.
+
+"I must leave Paris," thought he.
+
+He crossed toward the Orleans station at a quicker pace. He entered the
+waiting-room, and asked what time the train left for Etampes. Why did he
+choose Etampes? A train had just gone, and there would not be another
+one for two hours. He was much annoyed at this, and as he could not wait
+there two hours, he wended his way, to kill time, toward the Jardin des
+Plantes. He had not been there for ten or twelve years--not since, when
+at school, his teachers had brought him there to look at the animals.
+Nothing had changed. There were the groves and parterres, the lawns and
+lanes, the beasts and birds, as before. The principal avenue was nearly
+deserted. He took a seat opposite the mineralogical museum. He reflected
+on his position. He glanced back through the departed years, and did not
+find one day among those many days which had left him one of those
+gracious memories which delight and console. Millions had slipped
+through his prodigal hands, and he could not recall a single useful
+expenditure, a really generous one, amounting to twenty francs. He, who
+had had so many friends, searched his memory in vain for the name of a
+single friend whom he regretted to part from. The past seemed to him
+like a faithful mirror; he was surprised, startled at the folly of the
+pleasures, the inane delights, which had been the end and aim of his
+existence. For what had he lived? For others.
+
+"Ah, what a fool I was!" he muttered, "what a fool!"
+
+After living for others, he was going to kill himself for others. His
+heart became softened. Who would think of him, eight days hence? Not one
+living being. Yes--Jenny, perhaps. Yet, no. She would be consoled with a
+new lover in less than a week.
+
+The bell for closing the garden rang. Night had come, and a thick and
+damp mist had covered the city. The count, chilled to the bones, left
+his seat.
+
+"To the station again," muttered he.
+
+It was a horrible idea to him now--this of shooting himself in the
+silence and obscurity of the forest. He pictured to himself his
+disfigured body, bleeding, lying on the edge of some ditch. Beggars or
+robbers would despoil him. And then? The police would come and take up
+this unknown body, and doubtless would carry it, to be identified, to
+the Morgue. "Never!" cried he, at this thought, "no, never!"
+
+How die, then? He reflected, and it struck him that he would kill
+himself in some second-class hotel on the left bank of the Seine.
+
+"Yes, that's it," said he to himself.
+
+Leaving the garden with the last of the visitors, he wended his way
+toward the Latin Quarter. The carelessness which he had assumed in the
+morning gave way to a sad resignation. He was suffering; his head was
+heavy, and he was cold.
+
+"If I shouldn't die to-night," he thought, "I shall have a terrible cold
+in the morning."
+
+This mental sally did not make him smile, but it gave him the
+consciousness of being firm and determined. He went into the Rue
+Dauphine and looked about for a hotel. Then it occurred to him that it
+was not yet seven o'clock, and it might arouse suspicions if he asked
+for a room at that early hour. He reflected that he still had over one
+hundred francs, and resolved to dine. It should be his last meal. He
+went into a restaurant and ordered it. But he in vain tried to throw off
+the anxious sadness which filled him. He drank, and consumed three
+bottles of wine without changing the current of his thoughts.
+
+The waiters were surprised to see him scarcely touch the dishes set
+before him, and growing more gloomy after each potation. His dinner cost
+ninety francs; he threw his last hundred-franc note on the table, and
+went out. As it was not yet late, he went into another restaurant where
+some students were drinking, and sat down at a table in the farther
+corner of the room. He ordered coffee and rapidly drank three or four
+cups. He wished to excite himself, to screw up his courage to do what he
+had resolved upon; but he could not; the drink seemed only to make him
+more and more irresolute.
+
+A waiter, seeing him alone at the table, offered him a newspaper. He
+took it mechanically, opened it, and read:
+
+"Just as we are going to press, we learn that a well-known person has
+disappeared, after announcing his intention to commit suicide. The
+statements made to us are so strange, that we defer details till
+to-morrow, not having time to send for fuller information now."
+
+These lines startled Hector. They were his death sentence, not to be
+recalled, signed by the tyrant whose obsequious courtier he had always
+been--public opinion.
+
+"They will never cease talking about me," he muttered angrily. Then he
+added, firmly, "Come, I must make an end of this."
+
+He soon reached the Hotel Luxembourg. He rapped at the door, and was
+speedily conducted to the best room in the house. He ordered a fire to
+be lighted. He also asked for sugar and water, and writing materials. At
+this moment he was as firm as in the morning.
+
+"I must not hesitate," he muttered, "nor recoil from my fate."
+
+He sat down at the table near the fireplace, and wrote in a firm hand a
+declaration which he destined for the police.
+
+"No one must be accused of my death," he commenced; and he went on by
+asking that the hotel-keeper should be indemnified.
+
+The hour by the clock was five minutes before eleven; he placed his
+pistols on the mantel.
+
+"I will shoot myself at midnight," thought he. "I have yet an hour to
+live."
+
+The count threw himself in an arm-chair and buried his face in his
+hands. Why did he not kill himself at once? Why impose on himself this
+hour of waiting, of anguish and torture? He could not have told. He
+began again to think over the events of his life, reflecting on the
+headlong rapidity of the occurrences which had brought him to that
+wretched room. How time had passed! It seemed but yesterday that he
+first began to borrow. It does little good, however, to a man who has
+fallen to the bottom of the abyss, to know the causes why he fell.
+
+The large hand of the clock had passed the half hour after eleven.
+
+He thought of the newspaper item which he had just read. Who furnished
+the information? Doubtless it was Jenny. She had come to her senses,
+tearfully hastened after him. When she failed to find him on the
+boulevard, she had probably gone to his house, then to his club, then to
+some of his friends. So that to-night, at this very moment, the world
+was discussing him.
+
+"Have you heard the news?"
+
+"Ah, yes, poor Tremorel! What a romance! A good fellow, only--"
+
+He thought he heard this "only" greeted with laughter and innuendoes.
+Time passed on. The ringing vibration of the clock was at hand; the hour
+had come.
+
+The count got up, seized his pistols, and placed himself near the bed,
+so as not to fall on the floor.
+
+The first stroke of twelve; he did not fire.
+
+Hector was a man of courage; his reputation for bravery was high. He had
+fought at least ten duels; and his cool bearing on the ground had always
+been admiringly remarked. One day he had killed a man, and that night he
+slept very soundly.
+
+But he did not fire.
+
+There are two kinds of courage. One, false courage, is that meant for
+the public eye, which needs the excitement of the struggle, the stimulus
+of rage, and the applause of lookers-on. The other, true courage,
+despises public opinion, obeys conscience, not passion; success does not
+sway it, it does its work noiselessly.
+
+Two minutes after twelve--Hector still held the pistol against his
+forehead.
+
+"Am I going to be afraid?" he asked himself.
+
+He was afraid, but would not confess it to himself. He put his pistols
+back on the table and returned to his seat near the fire. All his limbs
+were trembling.
+
+"It's nervousness," he muttered. "It'll pass off."
+
+He gave himself till one o'clock. He tried to convince himself of the
+necessity of committing suicide. If he did not, what would become of
+him? How would he live? Must he make up his mind to work? Besides, could
+he appear in the world, when all Paris knew of his intention? This
+thought goaded him to fury; he had a sudden courage, and grasped his
+pistols. But the sensation which the touch of the cold steel gave him,
+caused him to drop his arm and draw away shuddering.
+
+"I cannot," repeated he, in his anguish. "I cannot!"
+
+The idea of the physical pain of shooting himself filled him with
+horror. Why had he not a gentler death? Poison, or perhaps
+charcoal--like the little cook? He did not fear the ludicrousness of
+this now; all that he feared was, that the courage to kill himself would
+fail him.
+
+He went on extending his time of grace from half-hour to half-hour. It
+was a horrible night, full of the agony of the last night of the
+criminal condemned to the scaffold. He wept with grief and rage and
+wrung his hands and prayed. Toward daylight he fell exhausted into an
+uneasy slumber, in his arm-chair. He was awakened by three or four heavy
+raps on the door, which he hastily opened. It was the waiter, who had
+come to take his order for breakfast, and who started back with
+amazement on seeing Hector, so disordered was his clothing and so livid
+the pallor of his features.
+
+"I want nothing," said the count. "I'm going down."
+
+He had just enough money left to pay his bill, and six sous for the
+waiter. He quitted the hotel where he had suffered so much, without end
+or aim in view. He was more resolved than ever to die, only he yearned
+for several days of respite to nerve himself for the deed. But how could
+he live during these days? He had not so much as a centime left. An idea
+struck him--the pawnbrokers!
+
+He knew that at the Monte-de-Piete* a certain amount would be advanced
+to him on his jewelry. But where find a branch office? He dared not ask,
+but hunted for one at hazard. He now held his head up, walked with a
+firmer step; he was seeking something, and had a purpose to accomplish.
+He at last saw the sign of the Monte-de-Piete on a house in the Rue
+Conde, and entered. The hall was small, damp, filthy, and full of
+people. But if the place was gloomy, the borrowers seemed to take their
+misfortunes good-humoredly. They were mostly students and women, talking
+gayly as they waited for their turns. The Count de Tremorel advanced
+with his watch, chain, and a brilliant diamond that he had taken from
+his finger. He was seized with the timidity of misery, and did not know
+how to open his business. A young woman pitied his embarrassment.
+
+[* The public pawnbroker establishment of Paris, which has branch
+bureaus through the city.]
+
+"See," said she, "put your articles on this counter, before that window
+with green curtains."
+
+A moment after he heard a voice which seemed to proceed from the next
+room:
+
+"Twelve hundred francs for the watch and ring."
+
+This large amount produced such a sensation as to arrest all the
+conversation. All eyes were turned toward the millionnaire who was going
+to pocket such a fortune. The millionnaire made no response.
+
+The same woman who had spoken before nudged his arm.
+
+"That's for you," said she. "Answer whether you will take it or not."
+
+"I'll take it," cried Hector.
+
+He was filled with a joy which made him forget the night's torture.
+Twelve hundred francs! How many days it would last! Had he not heard
+there were clerks who hardly got that in a year?
+
+Hector waited a long time, when one of the clerks, who was writing at a
+desk, called out:
+
+"Whose are the twelve hundred francs?"
+
+The count stepped forward.
+
+"Mine," said he.
+
+"Your name?"
+
+Hector hesitated. He would never give his name aloud in such a place as
+this. He gave the first name that occurred to him.
+
+"Durand."
+
+"Where are your papers?"
+
+"What papers?"
+
+"A passport, a receipt for lodgings, a license to hunt--"
+
+"I haven't any."
+
+"Go for them, or bring two well-known witnesses."
+
+"But--"
+
+"There is no 'but.' The next--"
+
+Hector was provoked by the clerk's abrupt manner.
+
+"Well, then," said he, "give me back the jewelry."
+
+The clerk looked at him jeeringly.
+
+"Can't be done. No goods that are registered, can be returned without
+proof of rightful possession." So saying, he went on with his work. "One
+French shawl, thirty-five francs, whose is it?"
+
+Hector meanwhile went out of the establishment. He had never suffered so
+much, had never imagined that one could suffer so much. After this ray
+of hope, so abruptly put out, the clouds lowered over him thicker and
+more hopelessly. He was worse off than the shipwrecked sailor; the
+pawnbroker had taken his last resources. All the romance with which he
+had invested the idea of his suicide now vanished, leaving bare the
+stern and ignoble reality. He must kill himself, not like the gay
+gamester who voluntarily leaves upon the roulette table the remains of
+his fortune, but like the Greek, who surprised and hunted, knows that
+every door will be shut upon him. His death would not be voluntary; he
+could neither hesitate nor choose the fatal hour; he must kill himself
+because he had not the means of living one day longer.
+
+And life never before seemed to him so sweet a thing as now. He never
+felt so keenly the exuberance of his youth and strength. He suddenly
+discovered all about him a crowd of pleasures each more enviable than
+the others, which he had never tasted. He who flattered himself that he
+had squeezed life to press out its pleasures, had not really lived. He
+had had all that is to be bought or sold, nothing of what is given or
+achieved. He already not only regretted giving the ten thousand francs
+to Jenny, but the two hundred francs to the servants--nay the six sous
+given to the waiter at the restaurant, even the money he had spent on
+the bunch of violets. The bouquet still hung in his buttonhole, faded
+and shrivelled. What good did it do him? While the sous which he had
+paid for it--! He did not think of his wasted millions, but could not
+drive away the thought of that wasted franc!
+
+True, he might, if he chose, find plenty of money still, and easily. He
+had only to return quietly to his house, to discharge the bailiffs, and
+to resume the possession of his remaining effects. But he would thus
+confront the world, and confess his terrors to have overcome him at the
+last moment; he would have to suffer glances more cruel than the
+pistol-ball. The world must not be deceived; when a man announces that
+he is going to kill himself--he must kill himself.
+
+So Hector was going to die because he had said he would, because the
+newspapers had announced the fact. He confessed this to himself as he
+went along, and bitterly reproached himself.
+
+He remembered a pretty spot in Viroflay forest, where he had once fought
+a duel; he would commit the deed there. He hastened toward it. The
+weather was fine and he met many groups of young people going into the
+country for a good time. Workmen were drinking and clinking their
+glasses under the trees along the river-bank. All seemed happy and
+contented, and their gayety seemed to insult Hector's wretchedness. He
+left the main road at the Sevres bridge, and descending the embankment
+reached the borders of the Seine. Kneeling down, he took up some water
+in the palm of his hand, and drank--an invincible lassitude crept over
+him. He sat, or rather fell, upon the sward. The fever of despair came,
+and death now seemed to him a refuge, which he could almost welcome with
+joy. Some feet above him the windows of a Sevres restaurant opened
+toward the river. He could be seen from there, as well as from the
+bridge; but he did not mind this, nor anything else.
+
+"As well here, as elsewhere," he said to himself.
+
+He had just drawn his pistol out, when he heard someone call:
+
+"Hector! Hector!"
+
+He jumped up at a bound, concealed the pistol, and looked about. A man
+was running down the embankment toward him with outstretched arms. This
+was a man of his own age, rather stout, but well shaped, with a fine
+open face and, large black eyes in which one read frankness and
+good-nature; one of those men who are sympathetic at first sight, whom
+one loves on a week's acquaintance.
+
+Hector recognized him. It was his oldest friend, a college mate; they
+had once been very intimate, but the count not finding the other fast
+enough for him, had little by little dropped his intimacy, and had now
+lost sight of him for two years.
+
+"Sauvresy!" he exclaimed, stupefied.
+
+"Yes," said the young man, hot, and out of breath, "I've been watching
+you the last two minutes; what were you doing here?"
+
+"Why--nothing."
+
+"How! What they told me at your house this morning was true, then! I
+went there."
+
+"What did they say?"
+
+"That nobody knew what had become of you, and that you declared to Jenny
+when you left her the night before that you were going to blow your
+brains out. The papers have already announced your death, with details."
+
+This news seemed to have a great effect on the count.
+
+"You see, then," he answered tragically, "that I must kill myself!"
+
+"Why? In order to save the papers from the inconvenience of correcting
+their error."
+
+"People will say that I shrunk--"
+
+"Oh, 'pon my word now! According to you, a man must make a fool of
+himself because it has been reported that he would do it. Absurd, old
+fellow. What do you want to kill yourself for?"
+
+Hector reflected; he almost saw the possibility of living.
+
+"I am ruined," answered he, sadly.
+
+"And it's for this that--stop, my friend, let me tell you, you are an
+ass! Ruined! It's a misfortune, but when a man is of your age he
+rebuilds his fortune. Besides, you aren't as ruined as you say, because
+I've got an income of a hundred thousand francs."
+
+"A hundred thousand francs--"
+
+"Well, my fortune is in land, which brings in about four per cent."
+
+Tremorel knew that his friend was rich, but not that he was as rich as
+this. He answered with a tinge of envy in his tone:
+
+"Well, I had more than that; but I had no breakfast this morning."
+
+"And you did not tell me! But true, you are in a pitiable state; come
+along, quick!"
+
+And he led him toward the restaurant.
+
+Tremorel reluctantly followed this friend, who had just saved his life.
+He was conscious of having been surprised in a distressingly ridiculous
+situation. If a man who is resolved to blow his brains out is accosted,
+he presses the trigger, he doesn't conceal his pistol. There was one
+alone, among all his friends, who loved him enough not to see the
+ludicrousness of his position; one alone generous enough not to torture
+him with raillery; it was Sauvresy.
+
+But once seated before a well-filled table, Hector could not preserve
+his rigidity. He felt the joyous expansion of spirit which follows
+assured safety after terrible peril. He was himself, young again, once
+more strong. He told Sauvresy everything; his vain boasting, his terror
+at the last moment, his agony at the hotel, his fury, remorse, and
+anguish at the pawnbroker's.
+
+"Ah!" said he. "You have saved me! You are my friend, my only friend, my
+brother."
+
+They talked for more than two hours.
+
+"Come," said Sauvresy at last, "let us arrange our plans. You want to
+disappear awhile; I see that. But to-night you must write four lines to
+the papers. To-morrow I propose to take your affairs in hand, that's a
+thing I know how to do. I don't know exactly how you stand; but I will
+agree to save something from the wreck. We've got money, you see; your
+creditors will be easy with us."
+
+"But where shall I go?" asked Hector, whom the mere idea of isolation
+terrified.
+
+"What? You'll come home with me, parbleu, to Valfeuillu. Don't you know
+that I am married? Ah, my friend, a happier man than I does not exist!
+I've married--for love--the loveliest and best of women. You will be a
+brother to us. But come, my carriage is right here near the door."
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+
+M. Plantat stopped. His companions had not suffered a gesture or a word
+to interrupt him. M. Lecoq, as he listened, reflected. He asked himself
+where M. Plantat could have got all these minute details. Who had
+written Tremorel's terrible biography? As he glanced at the papers from
+which Plantat read, he saw that they were not all in the same
+handwriting.
+
+The old justice of the peace pursued the story:
+
+Bertha Lechaillu, though by an unhoped-for piece of good fortune she had
+become Madame Sauvresy, did not love her husband. She was the daughter
+of a poor country school-master, whose highest ambition had been to be
+an assistant teacher in a Versailles school; yet she was not now
+satisfied. Absolute queen of one of the finest domains in the land,
+surrounded by every luxury, spending as she pleased, beloved, adored,
+she was not content. Her life, so well regulated, so constantly smooth,
+without annoyances and disturbance, seemed to her insipid. There were
+always the same monotonous pleasures, always recurring each in its
+season. There were parties and receptions, horse rides, hunts,
+drives--and it was always thus! Alas, this was not the life she had
+dreamed of; she was born for more exciting pleasures. She yearned for
+unknown emotions and sensations, the unforeseen, abrupt transitions,
+passions, adventures. She had not liked Sauvresy from the first day she
+saw him, and her secret aversion to him increased in proportion as her
+influence over him grew more certain. She thought him common, vulgar,
+ridiculous. She thought the simplicity of his manners, silliness. She
+looked at him, and saw nothing in him to admire. She did not listen to
+him when he spoke, having already decided in her wisdom that he could
+say nothing that was not tedious or commonplace. She was angry that he
+had not been a wild young man, the terror of his family.
+
+He had, however, done as other young men do. He had gone to Paris and
+tried the sort of life which his friend Tremorel led. He had enough of
+it in six months, and hastily returned to Valfeuillu, to rest after such
+laborious pleasures. The experience cost him a hundred thousand francs,
+but he said he did not regret purchasing it at this price.
+
+Bertha was wearied with the constancy and adoration of her husband. She
+had only to express a desire to be at once obeyed, and this blind
+submission to all her wishes appeared to her servile in a man. A man is
+born, she thought, to command, and not to obey; to be master, and not
+slave. She would have preferred a husband who would come in in the
+middle of the night, still warm from his orgy, having lost at play, and
+who would strike her if she upbraided him. A tyrant, but a man. Some
+months after her marriage she suddenly took it into her head to have
+absurd freaks and extravagant caprices. She wished to prove him, and see
+how far his constant complacence would go. She thought she would tire
+him out. It was intolerable to feel absolutely sure of her husband, to
+know that she so filled his heart that he had room for no other, to have
+nothing to fear, not even the caprice of an hour. Perhaps there was yet
+more than this in Bertha's aversion. She knew herself, and confessed to
+herself that had Sauvresy wished, she would have been his without being
+his wife. She was so lonely at her father's, so wretched in her poverty,
+that she would have fled from her home, even for this. And she despised
+her husband because he had not despised her enough!
+
+People were always telling her that she was the happiest of women.
+Happy! And there were days when she wept when she thought that she was
+married. Happy! There were times when she longed to fly, to seek
+adventure and pleasure, all that she yearned for, what she had not had
+and never would have. The fear of poverty--which she knew
+well--restrained her. This fear was caused in part by a wise precaution
+which her father, recently dead, had taken. Sauvresy wished to insert in
+the marriage-contract a settlement of five hundred thousand francs on
+his affianced. The worthy Lechailin had opposed this generous act.
+
+"My daughter," he said, "brings you nothing. Settle forty thousand
+francs on her if you will, not a sou more; otherwise there shall be no
+marriage."
+
+As Sauvresy insisted, the old man added:
+
+"I hope that she will be a good and worthy wife; if so, your fortune
+will be hers. But if she is not, forty thousand francs will be none too
+little for her. Of course, if you are afraid that you will die first,
+you can make a will."
+
+Sauvresy was forced to yield. Perhaps the worthy school-master knew his
+daughter; if so he was the only one. Never did so consummate a hypocrisy
+minister to so profound a perversity, and a depravity so inconceivable
+in a young and seemingly innocent girl. If, at the bottom of her heart,
+she thought herself the most wretched of women, there was nothing of it
+apparent--it was a well-kept secret. She knew how to show to her
+husband, in place of the love she did not feel, the appearance of a
+passion at once burning and modest, betraying furtive glances and a
+flush as of pleasure, when he entered the room.
+
+All the world said:
+
+"Bertha is foolishly fond of her husband."
+
+Sauvresy was sure of it, and he was the first to say, not caring to
+conceal his joy:
+
+"My wife adores me."
+
+Such were man and wife at Valfeuillu when Sauvresy found Tremorel on the
+banks of the Seine with a pistol in his hand. Sauvresy missed his dinner
+that evening for the first time since his marriage, though he had
+promised to be prompt, and the meal was kept waiting for him. Bertha
+might have been anxious about this delay; she was only indignant at what
+she called inconsiderateness. She was asking herself how she should
+punish her husband, when, at ten o'clock at night, the drawing-room door
+was abruptly thrown open, and Sauvresy stood smiling upon the threshold.
+
+"Bertha," said he, "I've brought you an apparition."
+
+She scarcely deigned to raise her head. Sauvresy continued:
+
+"An apparition whom you know, of whom I have often spoken to you, whom
+you will like because I love him, and because he is my oldest comrade,
+my best friend."
+
+And standing aside, he gently pushed Hector into the room.
+
+"Madame Sauvresy, permit me to present to you Monsieur the Count de
+Tremorel."
+
+Bertha rose suddenly, blushing, confused, agitated by an indefinable
+emotion, as if she saw in reality an apparition. For the first time in
+her life she was abashed, and did not dare to raise her large, clear
+blue eyes.
+
+"Monsieur," she stammered, "you are welcome."
+
+She knew Tremorel's name well. Sauvresy had often mentioned it, and she
+had seen it often in the papers, and had heard it in the drawing-rooms
+of all her friends. He who bore it seemed to her, after what she had
+heard a great personage. He was, according to his reputation, a hero of
+another age, a social Don Quixote, a terribly fast man of the world. He
+was one of those men whose lives astonish common people, whom the
+well-to-do citizen thinks faithless and lawless, whose extravagant
+passions overleap the narrow bounds of social prejudice; a man who
+tyrannizes over others, whom all fear, who fights on the slightest
+provocation, who scatters gold with a prodigal hand, whose iron health
+resists the most terrible excesses. She had often in her miserable
+reveries tried to imagine what kind of man this Count de Tremorel was.
+She awarded him with such qualities as she desired for her fancied hero,
+with whom she could fly from her husband in search of new adventures.
+And now, of a sudden, he appeared before her.
+
+"Give Hector your hand, dear," said Sauvresy. She held out her hand,
+which Tremorel lightly pressed, and his touch seemed to give her an
+electric shock.
+
+Sauvresy threw himself into an arm-chair.
+
+"You see, Bertha," said he, "our friend Hector is exhausted with the
+life he has been leading. He has been advised to rest, and has come to
+seek it here, with us."
+
+"But, dear," responded Bertha, "aren't you afraid that the count will be
+bored a little here?"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Valfeuillu is very quiet, and we are but dull country folks."
+
+Bertha talked for the sake of talking, to break a silence which
+embarrassed her, to make Tremorel speak, and hear his voice. As she
+talked she observed him, and studied the impression she made on him. Her
+radiant beauty usually struck those who saw her for the first time with
+open admiration. He remained impassible. She recognized the worn-out
+rake of title, the fast man who has tried, experienced, exhausted all
+things, in his coldness and superb indifference. And because he did not
+admire her she admired him the more.
+
+"What a difference," thought she, "between him and that vulgar Sauvresy,
+who is surprised at everything, whose face shows all that he thinks,
+whose eye betrays what he is going to say before he opens his mouth."
+
+Bertha was mistaken. Hector was not as cold and indifferent as she
+imagined. He was simply wearied, utterly exhausted. He could scarcely
+sit up after the terrible excitements of the last twenty-four hours. He
+soon asked permission to retire. Sauvresy, when left alone with his
+wife, told her all that happened, and the events which resulted in
+Tremorel's coming to Valfeuillu; but like a true friend omitted
+everything that would cast ridicule upon his old comrade.
+
+"He's a big child," said he, "a foolish fellow, whose brain is weak but
+we'll take care of him and cure him."
+
+Bertha never listened to her husband so attentively before. She seemed
+to agree with him, but she really admired Tremorel. Like Jenny, she was
+struck with the heroism which could squander a fortune and then commit
+suicide.
+
+"Ah!" sighed she, "Sauvresy would not have done it!"
+
+No, Sauvresy was quite a different man from the Count de Tremorel. The
+next day he declared his intention to adjust his friend's affairs.
+Hector had slept well, having spent the night on an excellent bed,
+undisturbed by pressing anxieties; and he appeared in the morning sleek
+and well-dressed, the disorder and desperation of the previous evening
+having quite disappeared. He had a nature not deeply impressible by
+events; twenty-four hours consoled him for the worst catastrophes, and
+he soon forgot the severest lessons of life. If Sauvresy had bid him
+begone, he would not have known where to go; yet he had already resumed
+the haughty carelessness of the millionnaire, accustomed to bend men and
+circumstances to his will. He was once more calm and cold, coolly
+joking, as if years had passed since that night at the hotel, and as if
+all the disasters to his fortune had been repaired. Bertha was amazed at
+this tranquillity after such great reverses, and thought this childish
+recklessness force of character.
+
+"Now," said Sauvresy, "as I've become your man of business, give me my
+instructions, and some valuable hints. What is, or was, the amount of
+your fortune?"
+
+"I haven't the least idea."
+
+Sauvresy provided himself with a pencil and a large sheet of paper,
+ready to set down the figures. He seemed a little surprised.
+
+"All right," said he, "we'll put x down as the unknown quantity of the
+assets: now for the liabilities."
+
+Hector made a superbly disdainful gesture.
+
+"Don't know, I'm sure, what they are."
+
+"What, can't you give a rough guess?"
+
+"Oh, perhaps. For instance, I owe between five and six hundred thousand
+francs to Clair & Co., five hundred thousand to Dervoy; about as much to
+Dubois, of Orleans--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I can't remember any more."
+
+"But you must have a memorandum of your loans somewhere?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You have at least kept your bonds, bills, and the sums of your various
+debts?"
+
+"None of them. I burnt up all my papers yesterday."
+
+Sauvresy jumped up from his chair in astonishment; such a method of
+doing business seemed to him monstrous; he could not suppose that Hector
+was lying. Yet he was lying, and this affectation of ignorance was a
+conceit of the aristocratic man of the world. It was very noble, very
+distingue, to ruin one's self without knowing how!
+
+"But, my dear fellow," cried Sauvresy, "how can we clear up your
+affairs?"
+
+"Oh, don't clear them up at all; do as I do--let the creditors act as
+they please, they will know how to settle it all, rest assured; let them
+sell out my property."
+
+"Never! Then you would be ruined, indeed!"
+
+"Well, it's only a little more or a little less."
+
+"What splendid disinterestedness!" thought Bertha; "what coolness, what
+admirable contempt of money, what noble disdain of the petty details
+which annoy common people! Was Sauvresy capable of all this?"
+
+She could not at least accuse him of avarice, since for her he was as
+prodigal as a thief; he had never refused her anything; he anticipated
+her most extravagant fancies. Still he had a strong appetite for gain,
+and despite his large fortune, he retained the hereditary respect for
+money. When he had business with one of his farmers, he would rise very
+early, mount his horse, though it were mid-winter, and go several
+leagues in the snow to get a hundred crowns. He would have ruined
+himself for her if she had willed it, this she was convinced of; but he
+would have ruined himself economically, in an orderly way.
+
+Sauvresy reflected.
+
+"You are right," said he to Hector, "your creditors ought to know your
+exact position. Who knows that they are not acting in concert? Their
+simultaneous refusal to lend you a hundred thousand makes me suspect it.
+I will go and see them."
+
+"Clair & Co., from whom I received my first loans, ought to be the best
+informed."
+
+"Well, I will see Clair & Co. But look here, do you know what you would
+do if you were reasonable?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"You would go to Paris with me, and both of us--"
+
+Hector turned very pale, and his eyes shone.
+
+"Never!" he interrupted, violently, "never!"
+
+His "dear friends" still terrified him. What! Reappear on the theatre of
+his glory, now that he was fallen, ruined, ridiculous by his
+unsuccessful suicide? Sauvresy had held out his arms to him. Sauvresy
+was a noble fellow, and loved Hector sufficiently not to perceive the
+falseness of his position, and not to judge him a coward because he
+shrank from suicide. But the others!--
+
+"Don't talk to me about Paris," said he in a calmer tone. "I shall never
+set my foot in it again."
+
+"All right--so much the better; stay with us; I sha'n't complain of it,
+nor my wife either. Some fine day we'll find you a pretty heiress in the
+neighborhood. But," added Sauvresy, consulting his watch, "I must go if
+I don't want to lose the train."
+
+"I'll go to the station with you," said Tremorel.
+
+This was not solely from a friendly impulse. He wanted to ask Sauvresy
+to look after the articles left at the pawnbroker's in the Rue de Condo,
+and to call on Jenny. Bertha, from her window, followed with her eyes
+the two friends; who, with arms interlocked, ascended the road toward
+Orcival. "What a difference," thought she, "between these two men! My
+husband said he wished to be his friend's steward; truly he has the air
+of a steward. What a noble gait the count has, what youthful ease, what
+real distinction! And yet I'm sure that my husband despises him, because
+he has ruined himself by dissipation. He affected--I saw it--an air of
+protection. Poor youth! But everything about the count betrays an innate
+or acquired superiority; even his name, Hector--how it sounds!" And she
+repeated "Hector" several times, as if it pleased her, adding,
+contemptuously, "My husband's name is Clement!"
+
+M. de Tremorel returned alone from the station, as gayly as a
+convalescent taking his first airing. As soon as Bertha saw him she left
+the window. She wished to remain alone, to reflect upon this event which
+had happened so suddenly, to analyze her sensations, listen to her
+presentiments, study her impressions and decide, if possible, upon her
+line of conduct. She only reappeared when the tea was set for her
+husband, who returned at eleven in the evening. Sauvresy was faint from
+hunger, thirst, and fatigue, but his face glowed with satisfaction.
+
+"Victory!" exclaimed he, as he ate his soup. "We'll snatch you from the
+hands of the Philistines yet. Parbleu! The finest feathers of your
+plumage will remain, after all, and you will be able to save enough for
+a good cosey nest."
+
+Bertha glanced at her husband.
+
+"How is that?" said she.
+
+"It's very simple. At the very first, I guessed the game of our friend's
+creditors. They reckoned on getting a sale of his effects; would have
+bought them in a lump dirt cheap, as it always happens, and then sold
+them in detail, dividing the profits of the operation."
+
+"And can you prevent that?" asked Tremorel, incredulously.
+
+"Certainly. Ah, I've completely checkmated these gentlemen. I've
+succeeded by chance--I had the good luck to get them all together this
+evening. I said to them, you'll let us sell this property as we please,
+voluntarily, or I'll outbid you all, and spoil your cards. They looked
+at me in amazement. My notary, who was with me, remarked that I was
+Monsieur Sauvresy, worth two millions. Our gentlemen opened their eyes
+very wide, and consented to grant my request."
+
+Hector, notwithstanding what he had said, knew enough about his affairs
+to see that this action would save him a fortune--a small one, as
+compared with what he had possessed, yet a fortune.
+
+The certainty of this delighted him, and moved by a momentary and
+sincere gratitude, he grasped both of Sauvresy's hands in his.
+
+"Ah, my friend," cried he, "you give me my honor, after saving my life!
+How can I ever repay you?"
+
+"By committing no imprudences or foolishnesses, except reasonable ones.
+Such as this," added Sauvresy, leaning toward Bertha and embracing her.
+
+"And there is nothing more to fear?"
+
+"Nothing! Why I could have borrowed the two millions in an hour, and
+they knew it. But that's not all. The search for you is suspended. I
+went to your house, took the responsibility of sending away all your
+servants except your valet and a groom. If you agree, we'll send the
+horses to be sold to-morrow, and they'll fetch a good price; your own
+saddle-horse shall be brought here."
+
+These details annoyed Bertha. She thought her husband exaggerated his
+services, carrying them even to servility.
+
+"Really," thought she, "he was born to be a steward."
+
+"Do you know what else I did?" pursued Sauvresy. "Thinking that perhaps
+you were in want of a wardrobe, I had three or four trunks filled with
+your clothes, sent them out by rail, and one of the servants has just
+gone after them."
+
+Hector, too, began to find Sauvresy's services excessive, and thought he
+treated him too much like a child who could foresee nothing. The idea of
+having it said before a woman that he was in want of clothes irritated
+him. He forgot that he had found it a very simple thing in the morning
+to ask his friend for some linen.
+
+Just then a noise was heard in the vestibule. Doubtless the trunks had
+come. Bertha went out to give the necessary orders.
+
+"Quick!" cried Sauvresy. "Now that we are alone, here are your trinkets.
+I had some trouble in getting them. They are suspicious at the
+pawnbroker's. I think they began to suspect that I was one of a band of
+thieves."
+
+"You didn't mention my name, did you?"
+
+"That would have been useless. My notary was with me, fortunately. One
+never knows how useful one's notary may be. Don't you think society is
+unjust toward notaries?"
+
+Tremorel thought his friend talked very lightly about a serious matter,
+and this flippancy vexed him.
+
+"To finish up, I paid a visit to Miss Jenny. She has been abed since
+last evening, and her chambermaid told me she had not ceased sobbing
+bitterly ever since your departure."
+
+"Had she seen no one?"
+
+"Nobody at all. She really thought you dead, and when I told her you
+were here with me, alive and well, I thought she would go mad for joy.
+Do you know, Hector, she's really pretty."
+
+"Yes--not bad."
+
+"And a very good little body, I imagine. She told me some very touching
+things. I would wager, my friend, that she don't care so much for your
+money as she does for yourself."
+
+Hector smiled superciliously.
+
+"In short, she was anxious to follow me, to see and speak to you. I had
+to swear with terrible oaths that she should see you to-morrow, before
+she would let me go; not at Paris, as you said you would never go there,
+but at Corbeil."
+
+"Ah, as for that--"
+
+"She will be at the station to-morrow at twelve. We will go down
+together, and I will take the train for Paris. You can get into the
+Corbeil train, and breakfast with Miss Jenny at the hotel of the Belle
+Image."
+
+Hector began to offer an objection. Sauvresy stopped him with a gesture.
+
+"Not a word," said he. "Here is my wife."
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+
+On going to bed, that night, the count was less enchanted than ever with
+the devotion of his friend Sauvresy. There is not a diamond on which a
+spot cannot be found with a microscope.
+
+"Here he is," thought he, "abusing his privileges as the saver of my
+life. Can't a man do you a service, without continually making you feel
+it? It seems as though because he prevented me from blowing my brains
+out, I had somehow become something that belongs to him! He came very
+near upbraiding me for Jenny's extravagance. Where will he stop?"
+
+The next day at breakfast he feigned indisposition so as not to eat, and
+suggested to Sauvresy that he would lose the train.
+
+Bertha, as on the evening before, crouched at the window to see them go
+away. Her troubles during the past eight-and-forty hours had been so
+great that she hardly recognized herself. She scarcely dared to reflect
+or to descend to the depths of her heart. What mysterious power did this
+man possess, to so violently affect her life? She wished that he would
+go, never to return, while at the same time she avowed to herself that
+in going he would carry with him all her thoughts. She struggled under
+the charm, not knowing whether she ought to rejoice or grieve at the
+inexpressible emotions which agitated her, being irritated to submit to
+an influence stronger than her own will.
+
+She decided that to-day she would go down to the drawing-room. He would
+not fail--were it only for politeness--to go in there; and then, she
+thought, by seeing him nearer, talking with him, knowing him better, his
+influence over her would vanish. Doubtless he would return, and so she
+watched for him, ready to go down as soon as she saw him approaching.
+She waited with feverish shudderings, anxiously believing that this
+first tete-a-tete in her husband's absence would be decisive. Time
+passed; it was more than two hours since he had gone out with Sauvresy,
+and he had not reappeared. Where could he be?
+
+At this moment, Hector was awaiting Jenny at the Corbeil station. The
+train arrived, and Jenny soon appeared. Her grief, joy, emotion had not
+made her forget her toilet, and never had she been so rollickingly
+elegant and pretty. She wore a green dress with a train, a velvet
+mantle, and the jauntiest little hat in the world. As soon as she saw
+Hector standing near the door, she uttered a cry, pushed the people
+aside, and rushed into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.
+She spoke quite loud, with wild gestures, so that everyone could hear
+what she said.
+
+"You didn't kill yourself, after all," said she. "Oh, how I have
+suffered; but what happiness I feel to-day!"
+
+Tremorel struggled with her as he could, trying to calm her enthusiastic
+exclamations, softly repelling her, charmed and irritated at once, and
+exasperated at all these eyes rudely fixed on him. For none of the
+passengers had gone out. They were all there, staring and gazing. Hector
+and Jenny were surrounded by a circle of curious folks.
+
+"Come along," said Hector, his patience exhausted. He drew her out of
+the door, hoping to escape this prying curiosity; but he did not
+succeed. They were persistently followed. Some of the Corbeil people who
+were on the top of the omnibus begged the conductor to walk his horses,
+that this singular couple might not be lost to view, and the horses did
+not get into a trot until they had disappeared in the hotel.
+
+Sauvresy's foresight in recommending the place of meeting had thus been
+disconcerted by Jenny's sensational arrival. Questions were asked; the
+hostess was adroitly interrogated, and it was soon known that this
+person, who waited for eccentric young ladies at the Corbeil station,
+was an intimate friend of the owner of Valfeuillu. Neither Hector nor
+Jenny doubted that they formed the general topic of conversation. They
+breakfasted gayly in the best room at the Belle Image, during which
+Tremorel recounted a very pretty story about his restoration to life, in
+which he played a part, the heroism of which was well calculated to
+redouble the little lady's admiration. Then Jenny in her turn unfolded
+her plans for the future, which were, to do her justice, most
+reasonable. She had resolved more than ever to remain faithful to Hector
+now that he was ruined, to give up her elegant rooms, sell her
+furniture, and undertake some honest trade. She had found one of her old
+friends, who was now an accomplished dressmaker, and who was anxious to
+obtain a partner who had some money, while she herself furnished the
+experience. They would purchase an establishment in the Breda quarter,
+and between them could scarcely fail to prosper. Jenny talked with a
+pretty, knowing, business-like air, which made Hector laugh. These
+projects seemed very comic to him; yet he was touched by this
+unselfishness on the part of a young and pretty woman, who was willing
+to work in order to please him.
+
+But, unhappily, they were forced to part. Jenny had gone to Corbeil
+intending to stay a week; but the count told her this was absolutely
+impossible. She cried bitterly at first, then got angry, and finally
+consoled herself with a plan to return on the following Tuesday.
+
+"Good-by," said she, embracing Hector, "think of me." She smilingly
+added, "I ought to be jealous; for they say your friend's wife is
+perhaps the handsomest woman in France. Is it true?"
+
+"Upon my word, I don't know. I've forgotten to look at her."
+
+Hector told the truth. Although he did not betray it, he was still under
+the surprise of his chagrin at the failure of his attempt at suicide. He
+felt the dizziness which follows great moral crises as well as a heavy
+blow on the head, and which distracts the attention from exterior
+things. But Jenny's words, "the handsomest woman in France," attracted
+his notice, and he could, that very evening, repair his forgetfulness.
+When he returned to Valfeuillu, his friend had not returned; Mme.
+Sauvresy was alone reading, in the brilliantly lighted drawing-room.
+Hector seated himself opposite her, a little aside, and was thus able to
+observe her at his ease, while engaging her in conversation. His first
+impression was an unfavorable one. He found her beauty too sculptural
+and polished. He sought for imperfections, and finding none, was almost
+terrified by this lovely, motionless face, these clear, cold eyes.
+Little by little, however, he accustomed himself to pass the greater
+part of the afternoon with Bertha, while Sauvresy was away arranging his
+affairs--selling, negotiating, using his time in cutting down interests
+and discussing with agents and attorneys. He soon perceived that she
+listened to him with pleasure, and he judged from this that she was a
+decidedly superior woman, much better than her husband. He had no wit,
+but possessed an inexhaustible fund of anecdotes and adventures. He had
+seen so many things and known so many people that he was as interesting
+as a chronicle. He had a sort of frothy fervor, not wanting in
+brilliancy, and a polite cynicism which, at first, surprised one. Had
+Bertha been unimpassioned, she might have judged him at his value; but
+she had lost her power of insight. She heard him, plunged in a foolish
+ecstasy, as one hears a traveller who has returned from far and
+dangerous countries, who has visited peoples of whose language the
+hearer is ignorant, and lived in the midst of manners and customs
+incomprehensible to ourselves.
+
+Days, weeks, months passed on, and the Count de Tremorel did not find
+life at Valfeuillu as dull as he had thought. He insensibly slipped
+along the gentle slope of material well-being, which leads directly to
+brutishness. A physical and moral torpor had succeeded the fever of the
+first days, free from disagreeable sensations, though wanting in
+excitement. He ate and drank much, and slept twelve round hours. The
+rest of the time, when he did not talk with Bertha, he wandered in the
+park, lounged in a rocking-chair, or took a jaunt in the saddle. He even
+went fishing under the willows at the foot of the garden; and grew fat.
+His best days were those which he spent at Corbeil with Jenny. He found
+in her something of his past, and she always quarrelled with him, which
+woke him up. Besides, she brought him the gossip of Paris and the small
+talk of the boulevards. She came regularly every week, and her love for
+Hector, far from diminishing, seemed to grow with each interview. The
+poor girl's affairs were in a troubled condition. She had bought her
+establishment at too high a price, and her partner at the end of the
+first month decamped, carrying off three thousand francs. She knew
+nothing about the trade which she had undertaken, and she was robbed
+without mercy on all sides. She said nothing of these troubles to
+Hector, but she intended to ask him to come to her assistance. It was
+the least that he could do.
+
+At first, the visitors to Valfeuillu were somewhat astonished at the
+constant presence there of a young man of leisure; but they got
+accustomed to him. Hector assumed a melancholy expression of
+countenance, such as a man ought to have who had undergone unheard-of
+misfortunes, and whose life had failed of its promise. He appeared
+inoffensive; people said:
+
+"The count has a charming simplicity."
+
+But sometimes, when alone, he had sudden and terrible relapses. "This
+life cannot last," thought he; and he was overcome with childish rage
+when he contrasted the past with the present. How could he shake off
+this dull existence, and rid himself of these stiffly good people who
+surrounded him, these friends of Sauvresy? Where should he take refuge?
+He was not tempted to return to Paris; what could he do there? His house
+had been sold to an old leather merchant; and he had no money except
+that which he borrowed of Sauvresy. Yet Sauvresy, to Hector's mind, was
+a most uncomfortable, wearisome, implacable friend; he did not
+understand half-way measures in desperate situations.
+
+"Your boat is foundering," he said to Hector; "let us begin by throwing
+all that is superfluous into the sea. Let us keep nothing of the past;
+that is dead; we will bury it, and nothing shall recall it. When your
+situation is relieved, we will see."
+
+The settlement of Hector's affairs was very laborious. Creditors sprung
+up at every step, on every side, and the list of them seemed never to be
+finished. Some had even come from foreign lands. Several of them had
+been already paid, but their receipts could not be found, and they were
+clamorous. Others, whose demands had been refused as exorbitant,
+threatened to go to law, hoping to frighten Sauvresy into paying.
+Sauvresy wearied his friend by his incessant activity. Every two or
+three days he went to Paris, and he attended the sales of the property
+in Burgundy and Orleans. The count at last detested and hated him;
+Sauvresy's happy, cheerful air annoyed him; jealousy stung him. One
+thought--that a wretched one--consoled him a little. "Sauvresy's
+happiness," said he to himself, "is owing to his imbecility. He thinks
+his wife dead in love with him, whereas she can't bear him."
+
+Bertha had, indeed, permitted Hector to perceive her aversion to her
+husband. She no longer studied the emotions of her heart; she loved
+Tremorel, and confessed it to herself. In her eyes he realized the ideal
+of her dreams. At the same time she was exasperated to see in him no
+signs of love for her. Her beauty was not, then, irresistible, as she
+had often been told. He was gallant and courteous to her--nothing more.
+
+"If he loved me," thought she, "he would tell me so, for he is bold with
+women and fears no one."
+
+Then she began to hate the girl, her rival, whom Hector went to meet at
+Corbeil every week. She wished to see her, to know her. Who could she
+be? Was she handsome? Hector had been very reticent about Jenny. He
+evaded all questions about her, not sorry to let Bertha's imagination
+work on his mysterious visits.
+
+The day at last came when she could no longer resist the intensity of
+her curiosity. She put on the simplest of her toilets, in black, threw a
+thick veil over her head, and hastened to the Corbeil station at the
+hour that she thought the unknown girl would present herself there. She
+took a seat on a bench in the rear of the waiting-room. She had not long
+to wait. She soon perceived the count and a young girl coming along the
+avenue, which she could see from where she sat. They were arm in arm,
+and seemed to be in a very happy mood. They passed within a few steps of
+her, and as they walked very slowly, she was able to scrutinize Jenny at
+her ease. She saw that she was pretty, but that was all. Having seen
+that which she wished, and become satisfied that Jenny was not to be
+feared (which showed her inexperience) Bertha directed her steps
+homeward. But she chose her time of departure awkwardly; for as she was
+passing along behind the cabs, which concealed her, Hector came out of
+the station. They crossed each other's paths at the gate, and their eyes
+met. Did he recognize her? His face expressed great surprise, yet he did
+not bow to her. "Yes, he recognized me," thought Bertha, as she returned
+home by the river-road; and surprised, almost terrified by her boldness,
+she asked herself whether she ought to rejoice or mourn over this
+meeting. What would be its result? Hector cautiously followed her at a
+little distance. He was greatly astonished. His vanity, always on the
+watch, had already apprised him of what was passing in Bertha's heart,
+but, though modesty was no fault of his, he was far from guessing that
+she was so much enamoured of him as to take such a step.
+
+"She loves me!" he repeated to himself, as he went along. "She loves
+me!"
+
+He did not yet know what to do. Should he fly? Should he still appear
+the same in his conduct toward her, pretending not to have seen her? He
+ought to fly that very evening, without hesitation, without turning his
+head; to fly as if the house were about to tumble about his head. This
+was his first thought. It was quickly stifled under the explosion of the
+base passions which fermented in him. Ah, Sauvresy had saved him when he
+was dying! Sauvresy, after saving him, had welcomed him, opened to him
+his heart, purse, house; at this very moment he was making untiring
+efforts to restore his fortunes. Men like Tremorel can only receive such
+services as outrages. Had not his sojourn at Valfeuillu been a continual
+suffering? Was not his self-conceit tortured from morning till night? He
+might count the days by their humiliations. What! Must he always submit
+to--if he was not grateful for--the superiority of a man whom he had
+always been wont to treat as his inferior?
+
+"Besides," thought he, judging his friend by himself, "he only acts thus
+from pride and ostentation. What am I at his house, but a living witness
+of his generosity and devotion? He seems to live for me--it's Tremorel
+here and Tremorel there! He triumphs over my misfortunes, and makes his
+conduct a glory and title to the public admiration."
+
+He could not forgive his friend for being so rich, so happy, so highly
+respected, for having known how to regulate his life, while he had
+exhausted his own fortune at thirty. And should he not seize so good an
+opportunity to avenge himself for the favors which overwhelmed him?
+
+"Have I run after his wife?" said he to himself, trying to impose
+silence on his conscience. "She comes to me of her own will, herself,
+without the least temptation from me. I should be a fool if I repelled
+her."
+
+Conceit has irresistible arguments. Hector, when he entered the house,
+had made up his mind. He did not fly. Yet he had the excuse neither of
+passion nor of temptation; he did not love her, and his infamy was
+deliberate, coldly premeditated. Between her and him a chain more solid
+than mutual attraction was riveted; their common hatred of Sauvresy.
+They owed too much to him. His hand had held both from degradation.
+
+The first hours of their mutual understanding were spent in angry words,
+rather than the cooings of love. They perceived too clearly the disgrace
+of their conduct not to try to reassure each other against their
+remorse. They tried to prove to each other that Sauvresy was ridiculous
+and odious; as if they were absolved by his deficiencies, if
+deficiencies he had. If indeed trustfulness is foolishness, Sauvresy was
+indeed a fool, because he could be deceived under his own eyes, in his
+own house, because he had perfect faith in his wife and his friend. He
+suspected nothing, and every day he rejoiced that he had been able to
+keep Tremorel by him. He often repeated to his wife:
+
+"I am too happy."
+
+Bertha employed all her art to encourage these joyous illusions. She who
+had before been so capricious, so nervous, wilful, became little by
+little submissive to the degree of an angelic softness. The future of
+her love depended on her husband, and she spared no pains to prevent the
+slightest suspicion from ruffling his calm confidence. Such was their
+prudence that no one in the house suspected their state. And yet Bertha
+was not happy. Her love did not yield her the joys she had expected. She
+hoped to be transported to the clouds, and she remained on the earth,
+hampered by all the miserable ties of a life of lies and deceit.
+
+Perhaps she perceived that she was Hector's revenge on her husband, and
+that he only loved in her the dishonored wife of an envied friend. And
+to crown all, she was jealous. For several months she tried to persuade
+Tremorel to break with Jenny. He always had the same reply, which,
+though it might be prudent, was irritating.
+
+"Jenny is our security--you must think of that."
+
+The fact was, however, that he was trying to devise some means of
+getting rid of Jenny. It was a difficult matter. The poor girl, having
+fallen into comparative poverty, became more and more tenacious of
+Hector's affection. She often gave him trouble by telling him that he
+was no longer the same, that he was changed; she was sad, and wept, and
+had red eyes.
+
+One evening, in a fit of anger, she menaced him with a singular threat.
+
+"You love another," she said. "I know it, for I have proofs of it. Take
+care! If you ever leave me, my anger will fall on her head, and I will
+not have any mercy on her."
+
+The count foolishly attached no importance to these words; they only
+hastened the separation.
+
+"She is getting very troublesome," thought he. "If some day I shouldn't
+go when she was expecting me, she might come up to Valfeuillu, and make
+a wretched scandal."
+
+He armed himself with all his courage, which was assisted by Bertha's
+tears and entreaties, and started for Corbeil resolved to break off with
+Jenny. He took every precaution in declaring his intentions, giving the
+best reasons for his decision that he could think of.
+
+"We must be careful, you know, Jenny," said he, "and cease to meet for a
+while. I am ruined, you know, and the only thing that can save me is
+marriage."
+
+Hector had prepared himself for an explosion of fury, piercing cries,
+hysterics, fainting-fits. To his great surprise, Jenny did not answer a
+word. She became as white as her collar, her ruddy lips blanched, her
+eyes stared.
+
+"So," said she, with her teeth tightly shut to contain herself, "so you
+are going to get married?"
+
+"Alas, I must," he answered with a hypocritical sigh. "You know that
+lately I have only been able to get money for you by borrowing from my
+friend; his purse will not be at my service forever."
+
+Jenny took Hector by the hand, and led him to the window. There, looking
+intently at him, as if her gaze could frighten the truth out of him, she
+said, slowly:
+
+"It is really true, is it, that you are going to leave me to get
+married?"
+
+Hector disengaged one of his hands, and placed it on his heart.
+
+"I swear it on my honor," said he.
+
+"I ought to believe you, then."
+
+Jenny returned to the middle of the room. Standing erect before the
+mirror, she put on her hat, quietly disposing its ribbons as if nothing
+had occurred. When she was ready to go, she went up to Tremorel. "For
+the last time," said she, in a tone which she forced to be firm, and
+which belied her tearful, glistening eyes. "For the last time, Hector,
+are we really to part?"
+
+"We must."
+
+Jenny made a gesture which Tremorel did not see; her face had a
+malicious expression; her lips parted to utter some sarcastic response;
+but she recovered herself almost immediately.
+
+"I am going, Hector," said she, after a moment's reflection; "If you are
+really leaving me to get married, you shall never hear of me again."
+
+"Why, Jenny, I hope I shall still remain your friend."
+
+"Well, only if you abandon me for another reason, remember what I tell
+you; you will be a dead man, and she, a lost woman."
+
+She opened the door; he tried to take her hand; she repulsed him.
+
+"Adieu!"
+
+Hector ran to the window to assure himself of her departure. She was
+ascending the avenue leading to the station.
+
+"Well, that's over," thought he, with a sigh of relief. "Jenny was a
+good girl."
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+
+The count told half a truth when he spoke to Jenny of his marriage.
+Sauvresy and he had discussed the subject, and if the matter was not as
+ripe as he had represented, there was at least some prospect of such an
+event. Sauvresy had proposed it in his anxiety to complete his work of
+restoring Hector to fortune and society.
+
+One evening, about a month before the events just narrated, he had led
+Hector into the library, saying:
+
+"Give me your ear for a quarter of an hour, and don't answer me hastily.
+What I am going to propose to you deserves serious reflection."
+
+"Well, I can be serious when it is necessary."
+
+"Let's begin with your debts. Their payment is not yet completed, but
+enough has been done to enable us to foresee the end. It is certain that
+you will have, after all debts are paid, from three to four hundred
+thousand francs."
+
+Hector had never, in his wildest hopes, expected such success.
+
+"Why, I'm going to be rich," exclaimed he joyously.
+
+"No, not rich, but quite above want. There is, too, a mode in which you
+can regain your lost position."
+
+"A mode? what?"
+
+Sauvresy paused a moment, and looked steadily at his friend.
+
+"You must marry," said he at last.
+
+This seemed to surprise Hector, but not disagreeably.
+
+"I, marry? It's easier to give that advice than to follow it."
+
+"Pardon me--you ought to know that I do not speak rashly. What would you
+say to a young girl of good family, pretty, well brought up, so charming
+that, excepting my own wife, I know of no one more attractive, and who
+would bring with her a dowry of a million?"
+
+"Ah, my friend, I should say that I adore her! And do you know such an
+angel?"
+
+"Yes, and you too, for the angel is Mademoiselle Laurence Courtois."
+
+Hector's radiant face overclouded at this name, and he made a
+discouraged gesture.
+
+"Never," said he. "That stiff and obstinate old merchant, Monsieur
+Courtois, would never consent to give his daughter to a man who has been
+fool enough to waste his fortune."
+
+Sauvresy shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Now, there's what it is to have eyes, and not see. Know that this
+Courtois, whom you think so obstinate, is really the most romantic of
+men, and an ambitious old fellow to boot. It would seem to him a grand
+good speculation to give his daughter to the Count Hector de Tremorel,
+cousin of the Duke of Samblemeuse, the relative of the Commarins, even
+though you hadn't a sou. What wouldn't he give to have the delicious
+pleasure of saying, Monsieur the Count, my son-in-law; or my daughter,
+Madame the Countess Hector! And you aren't ruined, you know, you are
+going to have an income of twenty thousand francs, and perhaps enough
+more to raise your capital to a million."
+
+Hector was silent. He had thought his life ended, and now, all of a
+sudden, a splendid perspective unrolled itself before him. He might then
+rid himself of the patronizing protection of his friend; he would be
+free, rich, would have a better wife, as he thought, than Bertha; his
+house would outshine Sauvresy's. The thought of Bertha crossed his mind,
+and it occurred to him that he might thus escape a lover who although
+beautiful and loving was proud and bold, and whose domineering temper
+began to be burdensome to him.
+
+"I may say," said he, seriously to his friend, "that I have always
+thought Monsieur Courtois an excellent and honorable man, and
+Mademoiselle Laurence seems to me so accomplished a young lady, that a
+man might be happy in marrying her even without a dowry."
+
+"So much the better, my dear Hector, so much the better. But you know,
+the first thing is to engage Laurence's affections; her father adores
+her, and would not, I am sure, give her to a man whom she herself had
+not chosen."
+
+"Don't disturb yourself," answered Hector, with a gesture of triumph,
+"she will love me."
+
+The next day he took occasion to encounter M. Courtois, who invited him
+to dinner. The count employed all his practised seductions on Laurence,
+which were so brilliant and able that they were well fitted to surprise
+and dazzle a young girl. It was not long before the count was the hero
+of the mayor's household. Nothing formal had been said, nor any direct
+allusion or overture made; yet M. Courtois was sure that Hector would
+some day ask his daughter's hand, and that he should freely answer,
+"yes;" while he thought it certain that Laurence would not say "no."
+
+Bertha suspected nothing; she was now very much worried about Jenny, and
+saw nothing else. Sauvresy, after spending an evening with the count at
+the mayor's, during which Hector had not once quitted the whist-table,
+decided to speak to his wife of the proposed marriage, which he thought
+would give her an agreeable surprise. At his first words, she grew pale.
+Her emotion was so great that, seeing she would betray herself, she
+hastily retired to her boudoir. Sauvresy, quietly seated in one of the
+bedroom arm-chairs, continued to expatiate on the advantages of such a
+marriage--raising his voice, so that Bertha might hear him in the
+neighboring room.
+
+"Do you know," said he, "that our friend has an income of sixty thousand
+crowns? We'll find an estate for him near by, and then we shall see him
+and his wife every day. They will be very pleasant society for us in the
+autumn months. Hector is a fine fellow, and you've often told me how
+charming Laurence is."
+
+Bertha did not reply. This unexpected blow was so terrible that she
+could not think clearly, and her brain whirled.
+
+"You don't say anything," pursued Sauvresy. "Don't you approve of my
+project? I thought you'd be enchanted with it."
+
+She saw that if she were silent any longer, her husband would go in and
+find her sunk upon a chair, and would guess all. She made an effort and
+said, in a strangled voice, without attaching any sense to her words:
+
+"Yes, yes; it is a capital idea."
+
+"How you say that! Do you see any objections?"
+
+She was trying to find some objection, but could not.
+
+"I have a little fear of Laurence's future," said she at last.
+
+"Bah! Why?"
+
+"I only say what I've heard you say. You told me that Monsieur Tremorel
+has been a libertine, a gambler, a prodigal--"
+
+"All the more reason for trusting him. His past follies guarantee his
+future prudence. He has received a lesson which he will not forget.
+Besides, he will love his wife."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Parbleu, he loves her already."
+
+"Who told you so?"
+
+"Himself."
+
+And Sauvresy began to laugh about Hector's passion, which he said was
+becoming quite pastoral.
+
+"Would you believe," said he, laughing, "that he thinks our worthy
+Courtois a man of wit? Ah, what spectacles these lovers look through! He
+spends two or three hours every day with the mayor. What do you suppose
+he does there?"
+
+Bertha, by great effort, succeeded in dissembling her grief; she
+reappeared with a smiling face. She went and came, apparently calm,
+though suffering the bitterest anguish a woman can endure. And she could
+not run to Hector, and ask him if it were true!
+
+For Sauvresy must be deceiving her. Why? She knew not. No matter. She
+felt her hatred of him increasing to disgust; for she excused and
+pardoned her lover, and she blamed her husband alone. Whose idea was
+this marriage? His. Who had awakened Hector's hopes, and encouraged
+them? He, always he. While he had been harmless, she had been able to
+pardon him for having married her; she had compelled herself to bear
+him, to feign a love quite foreign to her heart. But now he became
+hateful; should she submit to his interference in a matter which was
+life or death to her?
+
+She did not close her eyes all night; she had one of those horrible
+nights in which crimes are conceived. She did not find herself alone
+with Hector until after breakfast the next day, in the billiard-hall.
+
+"Is it true?" she asked.
+
+The expression of her face was so menacing that he quailed before it. He
+stammered:
+
+"True--what?"
+
+"Your marriage."
+
+He was silent at first, asking himself whether he should tell the truth
+or equivocate. At last, irritated by Bertha's imperious tone, he
+replied:
+
+"Yes."
+
+She was thunderstruck at this response. Till then, she had a glimmer of
+hope. She thought that he would at least try to reassure her, to deceive
+her. There are times when a falsehood is the highest homage. But no--he
+avowed it. She was speechless; words failed her.
+
+Tremorel began to tell her the motives which prompted his conduct. He
+could not live forever at Valfeuillu. What could he, with his habits and
+tastes, do with a few thousand crowns a year? He was thirty; he must,
+now or never, think of the future. M. Courtois would give his daughter a
+million, and at his death there would be a great deal more. Should he
+let this chance slip? He cared little for Laurence, it was the dowry he
+wanted. He took no pains to conceal his meanness; he rather gloried in
+it, speaking of the marriage as simply a bargain, in which he gave his
+name and title in exchange for riches. Bertha stopped him with a look
+full of contempt.
+
+"Spare yourself," said she. "You love Laurence."
+
+He would have protested; he really disliked her.
+
+"Enough," resumed Bertha. "Another woman would have reproached you; I
+simply tell you that this marriage shall not be; I do not wish it.
+Believe me, give it up frankly, don't force me to act."
+
+She retired, shutting the door violently; Hector was furious.
+
+"How she treats me!" said he to himself. "Just as a queen would speak to
+a serf. Ah, she don't want me to marry Laurence!" His coolness returned,
+and with it serious reflections. If he insisted on marrying, would not
+Bertha carry out her threats? Evidently; for he knew well that she was
+one of those women who shrink from nothing, whom no consideration could
+arrest. He guessed what she would do, from what she had said in a
+quarrel with him about Jenny. She had told him, "I will confess
+everything to Sauvresy, and we will be the more bound together by shame
+than by all the ceremonies of the church."
+
+This was surely the mode she would adopt to break a marriage which was
+so hateful to her; and Tremorel trembled at the idea of Sauvresy knowing
+all.
+
+"What would he do," thought he, "if Bertha told him? He would kill me
+off-hand--that's what I would do in his place. Suppose he didn't; I
+should have to fight a duel with him, and if I killed him, quit the
+country. Whatever would happen, my marriage is irrevocably broken, and
+Bertha seems to be on my hands for all time."
+
+He saw no possible way out of the horrible situation in which he had put
+himself.
+
+"I must wait," thought he.
+
+And he waited, going secretly to the mayor's, for he really loved
+Laurence. He waited, devoured by anxiety, struggling between Sauvresy's
+urgency and Bertha's threats. How he detested this woman who held him,
+whose will weighed so heavily on him! Nothing could curb her ferocious
+obstinacy. She had one fixed idea. He had thought to conciliate her by
+dismissing Jenny. It was a mistake. When he said to her:
+
+"Bertha, I shall never see Jenny again."
+
+She answered, ironically:
+
+"Mademoiselle Courtois will be very grateful to you!"
+
+That evening, while Sauvresy was crossing the court-yard, he saw a
+beggar at the gate, making signs to him.
+
+"What do you want, my good man?"
+
+The beggar looked around to see that no one was listening.
+
+"I have brought you a note," said he, rapidly, and in a low tone. "I was
+told to give it, only to you, and to ask you to read it when you are
+alone."
+
+He mysteriously slipped a note, carefully sealed, into Sauvresy's hand.
+
+"It comes from pretty girl," added he, winking.
+
+Sauvresy, turning his back to the house, opened it and read:
+
+"SIR--You will do a great favor to a poor and unhappy girl, if you will
+come to-morrow to the Belle Image, at Corbeil, where you will be awaited
+all day.
+
+"Your humble servant, "JENNY F---."
+
+There was also a postscript.
+
+"Please, sir, don't say a word of this to the Count de Tremorel."
+
+"Ah ha," thought Sauvresy, "there's some trouble about Hector, that's
+bad for the marriage."
+
+"I was told, sir," said the beggar, "there would be an answer."
+
+"Say that I will come," answered Sauvresy, throwing him a franc piece.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+
+The next day was cold and damp. A fog, so thick that one could not
+discern objects ten steps off, hung over the earth. Sauvresy, after
+breakfast, took his gun and whistled to his dogs.
+
+"I'm going to take a turn in Mauprevoir wood," said he.
+
+"A queer idea," remarked Hector, "for you won't see the end of your
+gun-barrel in the woods."
+
+"No matter, if I see some pheasants."
+
+This was only a pretext, for Sauvresy, on leaving Valfeuillu, took the
+direct road to Corbeil, and half an hour later, faithful to his promise,
+he entered the Belle Image tavern.
+
+Jenny was waiting for him in the large room which had always been
+reserved for her since she became a regular customer of the house. Her
+eyes were red with recent tears; she was very pale, and her marble color
+showed that she had not slept. Her breakfast lay untouched on the table
+near the fireplace, where a bright fire was burning. When Sauvresy came
+in, she rose to meet him, and took him by the hand with a friendly
+motion.
+
+"Thank you for coming," said she. "Ah, you are very good."
+
+Jenny was only a girl, and Sauvresy detested girls; but her grief was so
+sincere and seemed so deep, that he was touched.
+
+"You are suffering, Madame?" asked he.
+
+"Oh, yes, very much."
+
+Her tears choked her, and she concealed her face in her handkerchief.
+
+"I guessed right," thought Sauvresy. "Hector has deserted her. Now I
+must smooth the wound, and yet make future meetings between them
+impossible."
+
+He took the weeping Jenny's hand, and softly pulled away the
+handkerchief.
+
+"Have courage," said he.
+
+She lifted her tearful eyes to him, and said:
+
+"You know, then?"
+
+"I know nothing, for, as you asked me, I have said nothing to Tremorel;
+but I can imagine what the trouble is."
+
+"He will not see me any more," murmured Jenny. "He has deserted me."
+
+Sauvresy summoned up all his eloquence. The moment to be persuasive and
+paternal had come. He drew a chair up to Jenny's, and sat down.
+
+"Come, my child," pursued he, "be resigned. People are not always young,
+you know. A time comes when the voice of reason must be heard. Hector
+does not desert you, but he sees the necessity of assuring his future,
+and placing his life on a domestic foundation; he feels the need of a
+home."
+
+Jenny stopped crying. Nature took the upper hand, and her tears were
+dried by the fire of anger which took possession of her. She rose,
+overturning her chair, and walked restlessly up and down the room.
+
+"Do you believe that?" said she. "Do you believe that Hector troubles
+himself about his future? I see you don't know his character. He dream
+of a home, or a family? He never has and never will think of anything
+but himself. If he had any heart, would he have gone to live with you as
+he has? He had two arms to gain his bread and mine. I was ashamed to ask
+money of him, knowing that what he gave me came from you."
+
+"But he is my friend, my dear child."
+
+"Would you do as he has done?"
+
+Sauvresy did not know what to say; he was embarrassed by the logic of
+this daughter of the people, judging her lover rudely, but justly.
+
+"Ah, I know him, I do," continued Jenny, growing more excited as her
+mind reverted to the past. "He has only deceived me once--the morning he
+came and told me he was going to kill himself. I was stupid enough to
+think him dead, and to cry about it. He, kill himself? Why, he's too
+much of a coward to hurt himself! Yes, I love him, but I don't esteem
+him. That's our fate, you see, only to love the men we despise."
+
+Jenny talked loud, gesticulating, and every now and then thumping the
+table with her fist so that the bottles and glasses jingled. Sauvresy
+was somewhat fearful lest the hotel people should hear her; they knew
+him, and had seen him come in. He began to be sorry that he had come,
+and tried to calm the girl.
+
+"But Hector is not deserting you," repeated he. "He will assure you a
+good position."
+
+"Humph! I should laugh at such a thing! Have I any need of him? As long
+as I have ten fingers and good eyes, I shall not be at the mercy of any
+man. He made me change my name, and wanted to accustom me to luxury! And
+now there is neither a Miss Jenny, nor riches, but there is a Pelagie,
+who proposes to get her fifty sous a day, without much trouble."
+
+"No," said Sauvresy, "you will not need--"
+
+"What? To work? But I like work; I am not a do-nothing. I will go back
+to my old life. I used to breakfast on a sou's worth of biscuit and a
+sou's worth of potatoes, and was well and happy. On Sundays, I dined at
+the Turk for thirty sous. I laughed more then in one afternoon, than in
+all the years I have known Tremorel."
+
+She no longer cried, nor was she angry; she was laughing. She was
+thinking of her old breakfasts, and her feasts at the Turk.
+
+Sauvresy was stupefied. He had no idea of this Parisian nature,
+detestable and excellent, emotional to excess, nervous, full of
+transitions, which laughs and cries, caresses and strikes in the same
+minute, which a passing idea whirls a hundred leagues from the present
+moment.
+
+"So," said Jenny, more calmly, "I snap my fingers at Hector,"--she had
+just said exactly the contrary, and had forgotten it--"I don't care for
+him, but I will not let him leave me in this way. It sha'n't be said
+that he left me for another. I won't have it."
+
+Jenny was one of those women who do not reason, but who feel; with whom
+it is folly to argue, for their fixed idea is impregnable to the most
+victorious arguments. Sauvresy asked himself why she had asked him to
+come, and said to himself that the part he had intended to play would be
+a difficult one. But he was patient.
+
+"I see, my child," he commenced, "that you haven't understood or even
+heard me. I told you that Hector was intending to marry."
+
+"He!" answered Jenny, with an ironical gesture. "He get married."
+
+She reflected a moment, and added:
+
+"If it were true, though--"
+
+"I tell you it is so."
+
+"No," cried Jenny, "no, that can't be possible. He loves another, I am
+sure of it, for I have proofs."
+
+Sauvresy smiled; this irritated her.
+
+"What does this letter mean," cried she warmly, "which I found in his
+pocket, six months ago? It isn't signed to be sure, but it must have
+come from a woman."
+
+"A letter?"
+
+"Yes, one that destroys all doubts. Perhaps you ask, why I did not speak
+to him about it? Ah, you see, I did not dare. I loved him. I was afraid
+if I said anything, and it was true he loved another, I should lose him.
+And so I resigned myself to humiliation, I concealed myself to weep, for
+I said to myself, he will come back to me. Poor fool!"
+
+"Well, but what will you do?"
+
+"Me? I don't know--anything. I didn't say anything about the letter, but
+I kept it; it is my weapon--I will make use of it. When I want to, I
+shall find out who she is, and then--"
+
+"You will compel Tremorel, who is kindly disposed toward you, to use
+violence."
+
+"He? What can he do to me? Why, I will follow him like his shadow--I
+will cry out everywhere the name of this other. Will he have me put in
+St. Lazare prison? I will invent the most dreadful calumnies against
+him. They will not believe me at first; later, part of it will be
+believed. I have nothing to fear--I have no parents, no friends, nobody
+on earth who cares for me. That's what it is to raise girls from the
+gutter. I have fallen so low that I defy him to push me lower. So, if
+you are his friend, sir, advise him to come back to me."
+
+Sauvresy was really alarmed; he saw clearly how real and earnest Jenny's
+menaces were. There are persecutions against which the law is powerless.
+But he dissimulated his alarm under the blandest air he could assume.
+
+"Hear me, my child," said he. "If I give you my word of honor to tell
+you the truth, you'll believe me, won't you?"
+
+She hesitated a moment, and said:
+
+"Yes, you are honorable; I will believe you."
+
+"Then, I swear to you that Tremorel hopes to marry a young girl who is
+immensely rich, whose dowry will secure his future."
+
+"He tells you so; he wants you to believe it."
+
+"Why should he? Since he came to Valfeuillu, he could have had no other
+affair than this with you. He lives in my house, as if he were my
+brother, between my wife and myself, and I could tell you how he spends
+his time every hour of every day as well as what I do myself."
+
+Jenny opened her mouth to reply, but a sudden reflection froze the words
+on her lips. She remained silent and blushed violently, looking at
+Sauvresy with an indefinable expression. He did not observe this, being
+inspired by a restless though aimless curiosity. This proof, which Jenny
+talked about, worried him.
+
+"Suppose," said he, "you should show me this letter."
+
+She seemed to feel at these words an electric shock.
+
+"To you?" she said, shuddering. "Never!"
+
+If, when one is sleeping, the thunder rolls and the storm bursts, it
+often happens that the sleep is not troubled; then suddenly, at a
+certain moment, the imperceptible flutter of a passing insect's wing
+awakens one.
+
+Jenny's shudder was like such a fluttering to Sauvresy. The sinister
+light of doubt struck on his soul. Now his confidence, his happiness,
+his repose, were gone forever. He rose with a flashing eye and trembling
+lips.
+
+"Give me the letter," said he, in an imperious tone. Jenny recoiled with
+terror. She tried to conceal her agitation, to smile, to turn the matter
+into a joke.
+
+"Not to-day," said she. "Another time; you are too curious."
+
+But Sauvresy's anger was terrible; he became as purple as if he had had
+a stroke of apoplexy, and he repeated, in a choking voice:
+
+"The letter, I demand the letter."
+
+"Impossible," said Jenny. "Because," she added, struck with an idea, "I
+haven't got it here."
+
+"Where is it?"
+
+"At my room, in Paris."
+
+"Come, then, let us go there."
+
+She saw that she was caught; and she could find no more excuses,
+quick-witted as she was. She might, however, easily have followed
+Sauvresy, put his suspicions to sleep with her gayety, and when once in
+the Paris streets, might have eluded him and fled. But she did not think
+of that. It occurred to her that she might have time to reach the door,
+open it, and rush downstairs. She started to do so. Sauvresy caught her
+at a bound, shut the door, and said, in a low, hoarse voice:
+
+"Wretched girl! Do you wish me to strike you?"
+
+He pushed her into a chair, returned to the door, double locked it, and
+put the keys in his pocket. "Now," said he, returning to the girl, "the
+letter."
+
+Jenny had never been so terrified in her life. This man's rage made her
+tremble; she saw that he was beside himself, that she was completely at
+his mercy; yet she still resisted him.
+
+"You have hurt me very much," said she, crying, "but I have done you no
+harm."
+
+He grasped her hands in his, and bending over her, repeated:
+
+"For the last time, the letter; give it to me, or I will take it by
+force."
+
+It would have been folly to resist longer. "Leave me alone," said she.
+"You shall have it."
+
+He released her, remaining, however, close by her side, while she
+searched in all her pockets. Her hair had been loosened in the struggle,
+her collar was torn, she was tired, her teeth chattered, but her eyes
+shone with a bold resolution.
+
+"Wait--here it is--no. It's odd--I am sure I've got it though--I had it
+a minute ago--"
+
+And, suddenly, with a rapid gesture, she put the letter, rolled into a
+ball, into her mouth, and tried to swallow it. But Sauvresy as quickly
+grasped her by the throat, and she was forced to disgorge it.
+
+He had the letter at last. His hands trembled so that he could scarcely
+open it.
+
+It was, indeed, Bertha's writing.
+
+Sauvresy tottered with a horrible sensation of dizziness; he could not
+see clearly; there was a red cloud before his eyes; his legs gave way
+under him, he staggered, and his hands stretched out for a support.
+Jenny, somewhat recovered, hastened to give him help; but her touch made
+him shudder, and he repulsed her. What had happened he could not tell.
+Ah, he wished to read this letter and could not. He went to the table,
+turned out and drank two large glasses of water one after another. The
+cold draught restored him, his blood resumed its natural course, and he
+could see. The note was short, and this was what he read:
+
+"Don't go to-morrow to Petit-Bourg; or rather, return before breakfast.
+He has just told me that he must go to Melun, and that he should return
+late. A whole day!"
+
+"He"--that was himself. This other lover of Hector's was Bertha, his
+wife. For a moment he saw nothing but that; all thought was crushed
+within him. His temples beat furiously, he heard a dreadful buzzing in
+his ears, it seemed to him as if the earth were about to swallow him up.
+He fell into a chair; from purple he became ashy white. Great tears
+trickled down his cheeks.
+
+Jenny understood the miserable meanness of her conduct when she saw this
+great grief, this silent despair, this man with a broken heart. Was she
+not the cause of all? She had guessed who the writer of the note was.
+She thought when she asked Sauvresy to come to her, that she could tell
+him all, and thus avenge herself at once upon Hector and her rival.
+Then, on seeing this man refusing to comprehend her hints, she had been
+full of pity for him. She had said to herself that he would be the one
+who would be most cruelly punished; and then she had recoiled--but too
+late--and he had snatched the secret from her.
+
+She approached Sauvresy and tried to take his hands; he still repulsed
+her.
+
+"Let me alone," said he.
+
+"Pardon me, sir--I am a wretch, I am horrified at myself."
+
+He rose suddenly; he was gradually coming to himself.
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"That letter--I guessed--"
+
+He burst into a loud, bitter, discordant laugh, and replied:
+
+"God forgive me! Why, my dear, did you dare to suspect my wife?"
+
+While Jenny was muttering confused excuses, he drew out his pocket-book
+and took from it all the money it contained--some seven or eight hundred
+francs--which he put on the table.
+
+"Take this, from Hector," said he, "he will not permit you to suffer for
+anything; but, believe me, you had best let him get married."
+
+Then he mechanically took up his gun, opened the door, and went out. His
+dogs leaped upon him to caress him; he kicked them off. Where was he
+going? What was he going to do?
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+
+A small, fine, chilly rain had succeeded the morning fog; but Sauvresy
+did not perceive it. He went across the fields with his head bare,
+wandering at hazard, without aim or discretion. He talked aloud as he
+went, stopping ever and anon, then resuming his course. The peasants who
+met him--they all knew him--turned to look at him after having saluted
+him, asking themselves whether the master of Valfeuillu had not gone
+mad. Unhappily he was not mad. Overwhelmed by an unheard-of,
+unlooked-for catastrophe, his brain had been for a moment paralyzed. But
+one by one he collected his scattered ideas and acquired the faculty of
+thinking and of suffering. Each one of his reflections increased his
+mortal anguish. Yes, Bertha and Hector had deceived, had dishonored him.
+She, beloved to idolatry; he, his best and oldest friend, a wretch that
+he had snatched from misery, who owed him everything. And it was in his
+house, under his own roof, that this infamy had taken place. They had
+taken advantage of his noble trust, had made a dupe of him. The
+frightful discovery not only embittered the future, but also the past.
+He longed to blot out of his life these years passed with Bertha, with
+whom, but the night before, he had recalled these "happiest years of his
+life." The memory of his former happiness filled his soul with disgust.
+But how had this been done? When? How was it he had seen nothing of it?
+And now things came into his mind which should have warned him had he
+not been blind. He recalled certain looks of Bertha, certain tones of
+voice, which were an avowal. At times, he tried to doubt. There are
+misfortunes so great that to be believed there must be more than
+evidence.
+
+"It is not possible!" muttered he.
+
+Seating himself upon a prostrate tree in the midst of Mauprevoir forest,
+he studied the fatal letter for the tenth time within four hours.
+
+"It proves all," said he, "and it proves nothing."
+
+And he read once more.
+
+"Do not go to-morrow to Petit-Bourg--"
+
+Well, had he not again and again, in his idiotic confidence, said to
+Hector:
+
+"I shall be away to-morrow, stay here and keep Bertha company."
+
+This sentence, then, had no positive signification. But why add:
+
+"Or rather, return before breakfast."
+
+This was what betrayed fear, that is, the fault. To go away and return
+again anon, was to be cautious, to avoid suspicion. Then, why "he,"
+instead of, "Clement?" This word was striking. "He"--that is, the dear
+one, or else, the master that one hates. There is no medium--'tis the
+husband, or the lover. "He," is never an indifferent person. A husband
+is lost when his wife, in speaking of him, says, "He."
+
+But when had Bertha written these few lines? Doubtless some evening
+after they had retired to their room. He had said to her, "I'm going
+to-morrow to Melun," and then she had hastily scratched off this note
+and given it, in a book, to Hector.
+
+Alas! the edifice of his happiness, which had seemed to him strong
+enough to defy every tempest of life, had crumbled, and he stood there
+lost in the midst of its debris. No more happiness, joys,
+hopes--nothing! All his plans for the future rested on Bertha; her name
+was mingled in his every dream, she was at once the future and the
+dream. He had so loved her that she had become something of himself,
+that he could not imagine himself without her. Bertha lost to him, he
+saw no direction in life to take, he had no further reason for living.
+He perceived this so vividly that the idea of suicide came to him. He
+had his gun, powder and balls; his death would be attributed to a
+hunting accident, and all would be over.
+
+Oh, but the guilty ones!
+
+They would doubtless go on in their infamous comedy--would seem to mourn
+for him, while really their hearts would bound with joy. No more
+husband, no more hypocrisies or terrors. His will giving his fortune to
+Bertha, they would be rich. They would sell everything, and would depart
+rejoicing to some distant clime. As to his memory, poor man, it would
+amuse them to think of him as the cheated and despised husband.
+
+"Never!" cried he, drunk with fury, "never! I must kill myself, but
+first, I must avenge my dishonor!"
+
+But he tried in vain to imagine a punishment cruel or terrible enough.
+What chastisement could expiate the horrible tortures which he endured?
+He said to himself that, in order to assure his vengeance, he must
+wait--and he swore that he would wait. He would feign the same stolid
+confidence, and resigned himself to see and hear everything.
+
+"My hypocrisy will equal theirs," thought he.
+
+Indeed a cautious duplicity was necessary. Bertha was most cunning, and
+at the first suspicion would fly with her lover. Hector had
+already--thanks to him--several hundred thousand francs. The idea that
+they might escape his vengeance gave him energy and a clear head.
+
+It was only then that he thought of the flight of time, the rain falling
+in torrents, and the state of his clothes.
+
+"Bah!" thought he, "I will make up some story to account for myself."
+
+He was only a league from Valfeuillu, but he was an hour and a half
+reaching home. He was broken, exhausted; he felt chilled to the marrow
+of his bones. But when he entered the gate, he had succeeded in assuming
+his usual expression, and the gayety which so well hinted his perfect
+trustfulness. He had been waited for, but in spite of his resolutions,
+he could not sit at table between this man and woman, his two most cruel
+enemies. He said that he had taken cold, and would go to bed. Bertha
+insisted in vain that he should take at least a bowl of broth and a
+glass of claret.
+
+"Really," said he, "I don't feel well."
+
+When he had retired, Bertha said:
+
+"Did you notice, Hector?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Something unusual has happened to him."
+
+"Very likely, after being all day in the rain."
+
+"No. His eye had a look I never saw before."
+
+"He seemed to be very cheerful, as he always is."
+
+"Hector, my husband suspects!"
+
+"He? Ah, my poor good friend has too much confidence in us to think of
+being jealous."
+
+"You deceive yourself, Hector; he did not embrace me when he came in,
+and it is the first time since our marriage."
+
+Thus, at the very first, he had made a blunder. He knew it well; but it
+was beyond his power to embrace Bertha at that moment; and he was
+suffering more than he thought he should. When his wife and his friend
+ascended to his room, after dinner, they found him shivering under the
+sheets, red, his forehead burning, his throat dry, and his eyes shining
+with an unusual brilliancy. A fever soon came on, attended by delirium.
+A doctor was called, who at first said he would not answer for him. The
+next day he was worse. From this time both Hector and Bertha conceived
+for him the most tender devotion. Did they think they should thus in
+some sort expiate their crime? It is doubtful. More likely they tried to
+impose on the people about them; everyone was anxious for Sauvresy. They
+never deserted him for a moment, passing the night by turns near his
+bed. And it was painful to watch over him; a furious delirium never left
+him. Several times force had to be used to keep him on the bed; he tried
+to throw himself out of the window. The third day he had a strange
+fancy; he did not wish to stay in his chamber. He kept crying out:
+
+"Carry me away from here, carry me away from here."
+
+The doctor advised that he should be humored; so a bed was made up for
+him in a little room on the ground-floor, overlooking the garden. His
+wanderings did not betray anything of his suspicions; perhaps the firm
+will was able even to control the delirium. The fever finally yielded on
+the ninth day. His breathing became calmer, and he slept. When he awoke,
+reason had returned. That was a frightful moment. He had, so to speak,
+to take up the burden of his misery. At first he thought it the memory
+of a horrid night-mare; but no. He had not dreamed. He recalled the
+Belle Image, Jenny, the forest, the letter. What had become of the
+letter? Then, having the vague impression of a serious illness, he asked
+himself if he had said anything to betray the source of his misery. This
+anxiety prevented his making the slightest movement, and he opened his
+eyes softly and cautiously. It was eleven at night, and all the servants
+had gone to bed. Hector and Bertha alone were keeping watch; he was
+reading a paper, she was crocheting. Sauvresy saw by their placid
+countenances that he had betrayed nothing. He moved slightly; Bertha at
+once arose and came to him.
+
+"How are you, dear Clement?" asked she, kissing him fondly on the
+forehead.
+
+"I am no longer in pain."
+
+"You see the result of being careless."
+
+"How many days have I been sick?"
+
+"Eight days."
+
+"Why was I brought here?"
+
+"Because you wished it."
+
+Tremorel had approached the bedside.
+
+"You refused to stay upstairs," said he, "you were ungovernable till we
+had you brought here."
+
+"But don't tire yourself," resumed Hector. "Go to sleep again, and you
+will be well by to-morrow. And good-night, for I am going to bed now,
+and shall return and wake your wife at four o'clock."
+
+He went out, and Bertha, having given Sauvresy something to drink,
+returned to her seat.
+
+"What a friend Tremorel is," murmured she. Sauvresy did not answer this
+terribly ironical exclamation. He shut his eyes, pretended to sleep, and
+thought of the letter. What had he done with it? He remembered that he
+had carefully folded it and put it in the right-hand pocket of his vest.
+He must have this letter. It would balk his vengeance, should it fall
+into his wife's hands; and this might happen at any moment. It was a
+miracle that his valet had not put it on the mantel, as he was
+accustomed to do with the things which he found in his master's pockets.
+He was reflecting on some means of getting it, of the possibility of
+going up to his bedroom, where his vest ought to be, when Bertha got up
+softly. She came to the bed and whispered gently:
+
+"Clement, Clement!"
+
+He did not open his eyes, and she, persuaded that he was sleeping,
+though very lightly, stole out of the room, holding her breath as she
+went.
+
+"Oh, the wretch!" muttered Sauvresy, "she is going to him!"
+
+At the same time the necessity of recovering the letter occurred to him
+more vividly than ever.
+
+"I can get to my room," thought he, "without being seen, by the garden
+and back-stairs. She thinks I'm asleep; I shall get back and abed before
+she returns."
+
+Then, without asking himself whether he were not too feeble, or what
+danger there might be in exposing himself to the cold, he got up, threw
+a gown around him, put on his slippers and went toward the door.
+
+"If anyone sees me, I will feign delirium," said he to himself.
+
+The vestibule lamp was out and he found some difficulty in opening the
+door; finally, he descended into the garden. It was intensely cold, and
+snow had fallen. The wind shook the limbs of the trees crusted with ice.
+The front of the house was sombre. One window only was lighted--that of
+Tremorel's room; that was lighted brilliantly, by a lamp and a great
+blazing fire. The shadow of a man--of Hector--rested on the muslin
+curtains; the shape was distinct. He was near the window, and his
+forehead was pressed against the panes. Sauvresy instinctively stopped
+to look at his friend, who was so at home in his house, and who, in
+exchange for the most brotherly hospitality, had brought dishonor,
+despair and death.
+
+Hector made a sudden movement, and turned around as if he was surprised
+by an unwonted noise. What was it? Sauvresy only knew too well. Another
+shadow appeared on the curtain--that of Bertha. And he had forced
+himself to doubt till now! Now proofs had come without his seeking. What
+had brought her to that room, at that hour? She seemed to be talking
+excitedly. He thought he could hear that full, sonorous voice, now as
+clear as metal, now soft and caressing, which had made all the chords of
+passion vibrate in him. He once more saw those beautiful eyes which had
+reigned so despotically over his heart, and whose expressions he knew so
+well. But what was she doing? Doubtless she had gone to ask Hector
+something, which he refused her, and she was pleading with him; Sauvresy
+saw that she was supplicating, by her motions; he knew the gesture well.
+She lifted her clasped hands as high as her forehead, bent her head,
+half shut her eyes. What languor had been in her voice when she used to
+say:
+
+"Say, dear Clement, you will, will you not?"
+
+And now she was using the same blandishments on another. Sauvresy was
+obliged to support himself against a tree. Hector was evidently refusing
+what she wished; then she shook her finger menacingly, and tossed her
+head angrily, as if she were saying:
+
+"You won't? You shall see, then."
+
+And then she returned to her supplications.
+
+"Ah," thought Sauvresy, "he can resist her prayers; I never had such
+courage. He can preserve his coolness, his will, when she looks at him;
+I never said no to her; rather, I never waited for her to ask anything
+of me; I have passed my life in watching her lightest fancies, to
+gratify them. Perhaps that is what has ruined me!"
+
+Hector was obstinate, and Bertha was roused little by little; she must
+be angry. She recoiled, holding out her arms, her head thrown back; she
+was threatening him. At last he was conquered; he nodded, "Yes." Then
+she flung herself upon him, and the two shadows were confounded in a
+long embrace.
+
+Sauvresy could not repress an agonized cry, which was lost amid the
+noises of the night. He had asked for certainty; here it was. The truth,
+indisputable, evident, was clear to him. He had to seek for nothing
+more, now, except for the means to punish surely and terribly. Bertha
+and Hector were talking amicably. Sauvresy saw that she was about to go
+downstairs, and that he could not now go for the letter. He went in
+hurriedly, forgetting, in his fear of being discovered, to lock the
+garden door. He did not perceive that he had been standing with naked
+feet in the snow, till he had returned to his bedroom again; he saw some
+flakes on his slippers, and they were damp; quickly he threw them under
+the bed, and jumped in between the clothes, and pretended to be asleep.
+
+It was time, for Bertha soon came in. She went to the bed, and thinking
+that he had not woke up, returned to her embroidery by the fire.
+Tremorel also soon reappeared; he had forgotten to take his paper, and
+had come back for it. He seemed uneasy.
+
+"Have you been out to-night, Madame?" asked he, in a low voice.
+
+"No."
+
+"Have all the servants gone to bed?"
+
+"I suppose so; but why do you ask?"
+
+"Since I have been upstairs, somebody has gone out into the garden, and
+come back again."
+
+Bertha looked at him with a troubled glance.
+
+"Are you sure of what you say?"
+
+"Certainly. Snow is falling, and whoever went out brought some back on
+his shoes. This has melted in the vestibule--"
+
+Mme. Sauvresy seized the lamp, and interrupting Hector, said:
+
+"Come."
+
+Tremorel was right. Here and there on the vestibule pavement were little
+puddles.
+
+"Perhaps this water has been here some time," suggested Bertha.
+
+"No. It was not there an hour ago, I could swear. Besides, see, here is
+a little snow that has not melted yet."
+
+"It must have been one of the servants."
+
+Hector went to the door and examined it.
+
+"I do not think so," said he. "A servant would have shut the bolts; here
+they are, drawn back. Yet I myself shut the door to-night, and
+distinctly recollect fastening the bolts."
+
+"It's very strange!"
+
+"And all the more so, look you, because the traces of the water do not
+go much beyond the drawing-room door."
+
+They remained silent, and exchanged anxious looks. The same terrible
+thought occurred to them both.
+
+"If it were he?"
+
+But why should he have gone into the garden? It could not have been to
+spy on them.
+
+They did not think of the window.
+
+"It couldn't have been Clement," said Bertha, at last. "He was asleep
+when I went back, and he is in a calm and deep slumber now."
+
+Sauvresy, stretched upon his bed, heard what his enemies were saying. He
+cursed his imprudence.
+
+"Suppose," thought he, "they should think of looking at my gown and
+slippers!"
+
+Happily this simple idea did not occur to them; after reassuring each
+other as well as they were able, they separated; but each heart carried
+an anxious doubt. Sauvresy on that night had a terrible crisis in his
+illness. Delirium, succeeding this ray of reason, renewed its possession
+of his brain. The next morning Dr. R--- pronounced him in more danger
+than ever; and sent a despatch to Paris, saying that he would be
+detained at Valfeuillu three or four days. The distemper redoubled in
+violence; very contradictory symptoms appeared. Each day brought some
+new phase of it, which confounded the foresight of the doctors. Every
+time that Sauvresy had a moment of reason, the scene at the window
+recurred to him, and drove him to madness again.
+
+On that terrible night when he had gone out into the snow, he had not
+been mistaken; Bertha was really begging something of Hector. This was
+it:
+
+M. Courtois, the mayor, had invited Hector to accompany himself and his
+family on an excursion to Fontainebleau on the following day. Hector had
+cordially accepted the invitation. Bertha could not bear the idea of his
+spending the day in Laurence's company, and begged him not to go. She
+told him there were plenty of excuses to relieve him from his promise;
+for instance, he might urge that it would not be seemly for him to go
+when his friend lay dangerously ill. At first he positively refused to
+grant her prayer, but by her supplications and menaces she persuaded
+him, and she did not go downstairs until he had sworn that he would
+write to M. Courtois that very evening declining the invitation. He kept
+his word, but he was disgusted by her tyrannical behavior. He was tired
+of forever sacrificing his wishes and his liberty, so that he could plan
+nothing, say or promise nothing without consulting this jealous woman,
+who would scarcely let him wander out of her sight. The chain became
+heavier and heavier to bear, and he began to see that sooner or later it
+must be wrenched apart. He had never loved either Bertha or Jenny, or
+anyone, probably; but he now loved the mayor's daughter. Her dowry of a
+million had at first dazzled him, but little by little he had been
+subdued by Laurence's charms of mind and person. He, the dissipated
+rake, was seduced by such grave and naive innocence, such frankness and
+beauty; he would have married Laurence had she been poor--as Sauvresy
+married Bertha. But he feared Bertha too much to brave her suddenly, and
+so he waited. The next day after the quarrel about Fontainebleau, he
+declared that he was indisposed, attributed it to the want of exercise,
+and took to the saddle for several hours every day afterward. But he did
+not go far; only to the mayor's. Bertha at first did not perceive
+anything suspicious in Tremorel's rides; it reassured her to see him go
+off on his horse. After some days, however, she thought she saw in him a
+certain feeling of satisfaction concealed under the semblance of
+fatigue. She began to have doubts, and these increased every time he
+went out; all sorts of conjectures worried her while he was away. Where
+did he go? Probably to see Laurence, whom she feared and detested. The
+suspicion soon became a certainty with her. One evening Hector appeared,
+carrying in his button-hole a flower which Laurence herself had put
+there, and which he had forgotten to take out. Bertha took it gently,
+examined it, smelt it, and, compelling herself to smile:
+
+"Why," said she, "what a pretty flower!"
+
+"So I thought," answered Hector, carelessly, "though I don't know what
+it is called."
+
+"Would it be bold to ask who gave it to you?"
+
+"Not at all. It's a present from our good Plantat."
+
+All Orcival knew that M. Plantat, a monomaniac on flowers, never gave
+them away to anyone except Mme. Laurence. Hector's evasion was an
+unhappy one, and Bertha was not deceived.
+
+"You promised me, Hector," said she, "not to see Laurence any more, and
+to give up this marriage."
+
+He tried to reply.
+
+"Let me speak," she continued, "and explain yourself afterward. You have
+broken your word--you are deceiving my confidence! But I tell you, you
+shall not marry her!" Then, without awaiting his reply, she overwhelmed
+him with reproaches. Why had he come here at all? She was happy in her
+home before she knew him. She did not love Sauvresy, it was true; but
+she esteemed him, and he was good to her. Ignorant of the happiness of
+true love, she did not desire it. But he had come, and she could not
+resist his fascination. And now, after having engaged her affection, he
+was going to desert her, to marry another! Tremorel listened to her,
+perfectly amazed at her audacity. What! She dared to pretend that it was
+he who had abused her innocence, when, on the contrary, he had sometimes
+been astonished at her persistency! Such was the depth of her
+corruption, as it seemed to him, that he wondered whether he were her
+first or her twentieth lover. And she had so led him on, and had so
+forcibly made him feel the intensity of her will, that he had been fain
+still to submit to this despotism. But he had now determined to resist
+on the first opportunity; and he resisted.
+
+"Well, yes," said he, frankly, "I did deceive you; I have no
+fortune--this marriage will give me one; I shall get married." He went
+on to say that he loved Laurence less than ever, but that he coveted her
+money more and more every day. "To prove this," he pursued, "if you will
+find me to-morrow a girl who has twelve hundred thousand francs instead
+of a million, I will marry her in preference to Mademoiselle Courtois."
+
+She had never suspected he had so much courage. She had so long moulded
+him like soft wax, and this unexpected conduct disconcerted her. She was
+indignant, but at the same time she felt that unhealthy satisfaction
+that some women feel, when they meet a master who subdues them; and she
+admired Tremorel more than ever before. This time, he had taken a tone
+which conquered her; she despised him enough to think him quite capable
+of marrying for money. When he had done, she said:
+
+"It's really so, then; you only care for the million of dowry?"
+
+"I've sworn it to you a hundred times."
+
+"Truly now, don't you love Laurence?"
+
+"I have never loved her, and never shall." He thought that he would thus
+secure his peace until the wedding-day; once married, he cared not what
+would happen. What cared he for Sauvresy? Life is only a succession of
+broken friendships. What is a friend, after all? One who can and ought
+to serve you. Ability consists in breaking with people, when they cease
+to be useful to you.
+
+Bertha reflected.
+
+"Hear me, Hector," said she at last. "I cannot calmly resign myself to
+the sacrifice which you demand. Let me have but a few days, to accustom
+myself to this dreadful blow. You owe me as much--let Clement get well,
+first."
+
+He did not expect to see her so gentle and subdued; who would have
+looked for such concessions, so easily obtained? The idea of a snare did
+not occur to him. In his delight he betrayed how he rejoiced in his
+liberty, which ought to have undeceived Bertha; but she did not perceive
+it. He grasped her hand, and cried:
+
+"Ah, you are very good--you really love me."
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+
+The Count de Tremorel did not anticipate that the respite which Bertha
+begged would last long. Sauvresy had seemed better during the last week.
+He got up every day, and commenced to go about the house; he even
+received numerous visits from the neighbors; without apparent fatigue.
+But alas, the master of Valfeuillu was only the shadow of himself. His
+friends would never have recognized in that emaciated form and white
+face, and burning, haggard eye, the robust young man with red lips and
+beaming visage whom they remembered. He had suffered so! He did not wish
+to die before avenging himself on the wretches who had filched his
+happiness and his life. But what punishment should he inflict? This
+fixed idea burning in his brain, gave his look a fiery eagerness.
+Ordinarily, there are three modes in which a betrayed husband may avenge
+himself. He has the right, and it is almost a duty--to deliver the
+guilty ones up to the law, which is on his side. He may adroitly watch
+them, surprise them and kill them. There is a law which does not
+absolve, but excuses him, in this. Lastly, he may affect a stolid
+indifference, laugh the first and loudest at his misfortune, drive his
+wife from his roof, and leave her to starve. But what poor, wretched
+methods of vengeance. Give up his wife to the law? Would not that be to
+offer his name, honor, and life to public ridicule? To put himself at
+the mercy of a lawyer, who would drag him through the mire. They do not
+defend the erring wife, they attack her husband. And what satisfaction
+would he get? Bertha and Tremorel would be condemned to a year's
+imprisonment, perhaps eighteen months, possibly two years. It seemed to
+him simpler to kill them. He might go in, fire a revolver at them, and
+they would not have time to comprehend it, for their agony would be but
+for a moment; and then? Then, he must become a prisoner, submit to a
+trial, invoke the judge's mercy, and risk conviction. As to turning his
+wife out of doors, that was to hand her over quietly to Hector. He
+imagined them leaving Valfeuillu, hand in hand, happy and smiling, and
+laughing in his face. At this thought he had a fit of cold rage; his
+self-esteem adding the sharpest pains to the wounds in his heart. None
+of these vulgar methods could satisfy him. He longed for some revenge
+unheard-of, strange, monstrous, as his tortures were. Then he thought of
+all the horrible tales he had read, seeking one to his purpose; he had a
+right to be particular, and he was determined to wait until he was
+satisfied. There was only one thing that could balk his
+progress--Jenny's letter. What had become of it? Had he lost it in the
+woods? He had looked for it everywhere, and could not find it.
+
+He accustomed himself, however, to feign, finding a sort of fierce
+pleasure in the constraint. He learned to assume a countenance which
+completely hid his thoughts. He submitted to his wife's caresses without
+an apparent shudder; and shook Hector by the hand as heartily as ever.
+In the evening, when they were gathered about the drawing-room table, he
+was the gayest of the three. He built a hundred air-castles, pictured a
+hundred pleasure-parties, when he was able to go abroad again. Hector
+rejoiced at his returning health.
+
+"Clement is getting on finely," said he to Bertha, one evening.
+
+She understood only too well what he meant.
+
+"Always thinking of Laurence?"
+
+"Did you not permit me to hope?"
+
+"I asked you to wait, Hector, and you have done well not to be in a
+hurry. I know a young girl who would bring you, not one, but three
+millions as dowry."
+
+This was a painful surprise. He really had no thoughts for anyone but
+Laurence, and now a new obstacle presented itself.
+
+"And who is that?"
+
+She leaned over, and whispered tremblingly in his ear:
+
+"I am Clement's sole heiress; perhaps he'll die; I might be a widow
+to-morrow."
+
+Hector was petrified.
+
+"But Sauvresy, thank God! is getting well fast."
+
+Bertha fixed her large, clear eyes upon him, and with frightful calmness
+said:
+
+"What do you know about it?"
+
+Tremorel dared not ask what these strange words meant. He was one of
+those men who shun explanations, and who, rather than put themselves on
+their guard in time, permit themselves to be drawn on by circumstances;
+soft and feeble beings, who deliberately bandage their eyes so as not to
+see the danger which threatens them, and who prefer the sloth of doubt,
+and acts of uncertainty to a definite and open position, which they have
+not the courage to face.
+
+Besides, Hector experienced a childish satisfaction in seeing Bertha's
+distress, though he feared and detested her. He conceived a great
+opinion of his own value and merit, when he saw the persistency and
+desperation with which she insisted on keeping her hold on him.
+
+"Poor woman!" thought he. "In her grief at losing me, and seeing me
+another's, she has begun to wish for her husband's death!"
+
+Such was the torpor of his moral sense that he did not see the vileness
+of Bertha's and his own thoughts.
+
+Meanwhile Sauvresy's state was not reassuring for Hector's hopes and
+plans. On the very day when he had this conversation with Bertha, her
+husband was forced to take to his bed again. This relapse took place
+after he had drank a glass of quinine and water, which he had been
+accustomed to take just before supper; only, this time, the symptoms
+changed entirely, as if one malady had yielded to another of a very
+different kind. He complained of a pricking in his skin, of vertigo, of
+convulsive twitches which contracted and twisted his limbs, especially
+his arms. He cried out with excruciating neuralgic pains in the face. He
+was seized with a violent, persistent, tenacious craving for pepper,
+which nothing could assuage. He was sleepless, and morphine in large
+doses failed to bring him slumber; while he felt an intense chill within
+him, as if the body's temperature were gradually diminishing. Delirium
+had completely disappeared, and the sick man retained perfectly the
+clearness of his mind. Sauvresy bore up wonderfully under his pains, and
+seemed to take a new interest in the business of his estates. He was
+constantly in consultation with bailiffs and agents, and shut himself up
+for days together with notaries and attorneys. Then, saying that he must
+have distractions, he received all his friends, and when no one called,
+he sent for some acquaintance to come and chat with him in order to
+forget his illness. He gave no hint of what he was doing and thinking,
+and Bertha was devoured by anxiety. She often watched for her husband's
+agent, when, after a conference of several hours, he came out of his
+room; and making herself as sweet and fascinating as possible, she used
+all her cunning to find out something which would enlighten her as to
+what he was about. But no one could, or at least would, satisfy her
+curiosity; all gave evasive replies, as if Sauvresy had cautioned them,
+or as if there were nothing to tell.
+
+No complaints were heard from Sauvresy. He talked constantly of Bertha
+and Hector; he wished all the world to know their devotion to him; he
+called them his "guardian angels," and blessed Heaven that had given him
+such a wife and such a friend. Sauvresy's illness now became so serious
+that Tremorel began to despair; he became alarmed; what position would
+his friend's death leave him in? Bertha, having become a widow, would be
+implacable. He resolved to find out her inmost thoughts at the first
+opportunity; she anticipated him, and saved him the trouble of broaching
+the subject. One afternoon, when they were alone, M. Plantat being in
+attendance at the sick man's bedside, Bertha commenced.
+
+"I want some advice, Hector, and you alone can give it to me. How can I
+find out whether Clement, within the past day or two, has not changed
+his will in regard to me?"
+
+"His will?"
+
+"Yes, I've already told you that by a will of which I myself have a
+copy, Sauvresy has left me his whole fortune. I fear that he may perhaps
+revoke it."
+
+"What an idea!"
+
+"Ah, I have reasons for my apprehensions. What are all these agents and
+attorneys doing at Valfeuillu? A stroke of this man's pen may ruin me.
+Don't you see that he can deprive me of his millions, and reduce me to
+my dowry of fifty thousand francs?"
+
+"But he will not do it; he loves you--"
+
+"Are you sure of it? I've told you, there are three millions; I must
+have this fortune--not for myself, but for you; I want it, I must have
+it! But how can I find out--how? how?"
+
+Hector was very indignant. It was to this end, then, that his delays had
+conducted him! She thought that she had a right now to dispose of him in
+spite of himself, and, as it were, to purchase him. And he could not,
+dared not, say anything!
+
+"We must be patient," said he, "and wait--"
+
+"Wait--for what? Till he's dead?"
+
+"Don't speak so."
+
+"Why not?" Bertha went up to him, and in a low voice, muttered:
+
+"He has only a week to live; and see here--"
+
+She drew a little vial from her pocket, and held it up to him.
+
+"That is what convinces me that I am not mistaken."
+
+Hector became livid, and could not stifle a cry of horror. He
+comprehended all now--he saw how it was that Bertha had been so easily
+subdued, why she had refrained from speaking of Laurence, her strange
+words, her calm confidence.
+
+"Poison!" stammered he, confounded.
+
+"Yes, poison."
+
+"You have not used it?"
+
+She fixed a hard, stern look upon him--the look which had subdued his
+will, against which he had struggled in vain--and in a calm voice,
+emphasizing each word, answered:
+
+"I have used it."
+
+The count was, indeed, a dangerous man, unscrupulous, not recoiling from
+any wickedness when his passions were to be indulged, capable of
+everything; but this horrible crime awoke in him all that remained of
+honest energy.
+
+"Well," he cried, in disgust, "you will not use it again!"
+
+He hastened toward the door, shuddering; she stopped him.
+
+"Reflect before you act," said she, coldly. "I will betray the fact of
+your relations with me; who will then believe that you are not my
+accomplice?"
+
+He saw the force of this terrible menace, coming from Bertha.
+
+"Come," said she, ironically, "speak--betray me if you choose. Whatever
+happens, for happiness or misery, we shall no longer be separated; our
+destinies will be the same."
+
+Hector fell heavily into a chair, more overwhelmed than if he had been
+struck with a hammer. He held his bursting forehead between his hands;
+he saw himself shut up in an infernal circle, without outlet.
+
+"I am lost!" he stammered, without knowing what he said, "I am lost!"
+
+He was to be pitied; his face was terribly haggard, great drops of
+perspiration stood at the roots of his hair, his eyes wandered as if he
+were insane. Bertha shook him rudely by the arm, for his cowardice
+exasperated her.
+
+"You are afraid," she said. "You are trembling! Lost? You would not say
+so, if you loved me as I do you. Will you be lost because I am to be
+your wife, because we shall be free to love in the face of all the
+world? Lost! Then you have no idea of what I have endured? You don't
+know, then, that I am tired of suffering, fearing, feigning."
+
+"Such a crime!"
+
+She burst out with a laugh that made him shudder.
+
+"You ought to have said so," said she, with a look full of contempt,
+"the day you won me from Sauvresy--the day that you stole the wife of
+this friend who saved your life. Do you think that was a less horrid
+crime? You knew as well as I did how much my husband loved me, and that
+he would have preferred to die, rather than lose me thus."
+
+"But he knows nothing, suspects nothing of it."
+
+"You are mistaken; Sauvresy knows all."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"All, I tell you--and he has known all since that day when he came home
+so late from hunting. Don't you remember that I noticed his strange
+look, and said to you that my husband suspected something? You shrugged
+your shoulders. Do you forget the steps in the vestibule the night I
+went to your room? He had been spying on us. Well, do you want a more
+certain proof? Look at this letter, which I found, crumpled up and wet,
+in one of his vest pockets."
+
+She showed him the letter which Sauvresy had forcibly taken from Jenny,
+and he recognized it well.
+
+"It is a fatality," said he, overwhelmed. "But we can separate and break
+off with each other. Bertha, I can go away."
+
+"It's too late. Believe me, Hector, we are to-day defending our lives.
+Ah, you don't know Clement! You don't know what the fury of a man like
+him can be, when he sees that his confidence has been outrageously
+abused, and his trust vilely betrayed. If he has said nothing to me, and
+has not let us see any traces of his implacable anger, it is because he
+is meditating some frightful vengeance."
+
+This was only too probable, and Hector saw it clearly.
+
+"What shall we do?" he asked, in a hoarse voice; he was almost
+speechless.
+
+"Find out what change he has made in his will."
+
+"But how?"
+
+"I don't know yet. I came to ask your advice, and I find you more
+cowardly than a woman. Let me act, then; don't do anything yourself; I
+will do all."
+
+He essayed an objection.
+
+"Enough," said she. "He must not ruin us after all--I will see--I will
+think."
+
+Someone below called her. She went down, leaving Hector overcome with
+despair.
+
+That evening, during which Bertha seemed happy and smiling, his face
+finally betrayed so distinctly the traces of his anguish, that Sauvresy
+tenderly asked him if he were not ill?
+
+"You exhaust yourself tending on me, my good Hector," said he. "How can
+I ever repay your devotion?"
+
+Tremorel had not the strength to reply.
+
+"And that man knows all," thought he. "What courage! What fate can he be
+reserving for us?"
+
+The scene which was passing before Hector's eyes made his flesh creep.
+Every time that Bertha gave her husband his medicine, she took a
+hair-pin from her tresses, and plunged it into the little vial which she
+had shown him, taking up thus some small, white grains, which she
+dissolved in the potions prescribed by the doctor.
+
+It might be supposed that Tremorel, enslaved by his horrid position, and
+harassed by increasing terror, would renounce forever his proposed
+marriage with Laurence. Not so. He clung to that project more
+desperately than ever. Bertha's threats, the great obstacles now
+intervening, his anguish, crime, only augmented the violence of his love
+for her, and fed the flame of his ambition to secure her as his wife. A
+small and flickering ray of hope which lighted the darkness of his
+despair, consoled and revived him, and made the present more easy to
+bear. He said to himself that Bertha could not be thinking of marrying
+him the day after her husband's death. Months, a whole year must pass,
+and thus he would gain time; then some day he would declare his will.
+What would she have to say? Would she divulge the crime, and try to hold
+him as her accomplice? Who would believe her? How could she prove that
+he, who loved and had married another woman, had any interest in
+Sauvresy's death? People don't kill their friends for the mere pleasure
+of it. Would she provoke the law to exhume her husband? She was now in a
+position, thought he, wherein she could, or would not exercise her
+reason. Later on, she would reflect, and then she would be arrested by
+the probability of those dangers, the certainty of which did not now
+terrify her.
+
+He did not wish that she should ever be his wife at any price. He would
+have detested her had she possessed millions; he hated her now that she
+was poor, ruined, reduced to her own narrow means. And that she was so,
+there was no doubt, Sauvresy indeed knew all. He was content to wait; he
+knew that Laurence loved him enough to wait for him one, or three years,
+if necessary. He already had such absolute power over her, that she did
+not try to combat the thoughts of him, which gently forced themselves on
+her, penetrated to her soul, and filled her mind and heart. Hector said
+to himself that in the interest of his designs, perhaps it was well that
+Bertha was acting as she did. He forced himself to stifle his conscience
+in trying to prove that he was not guilty. Who thought of this crime?
+Bertha. Who was executing it? She alone. He could only be reproached
+with moral complicity in it, a complicity involuntary, forced upon him,
+imposed somehow by the care for his own life. Sometimes, however, a
+bitter remorse seized him. He could have understood a sudden, violent,
+rapid murder; could have explained to himself a knife-stroke; but this
+slow death, given drop by drop, horribly sweetened by tenderness, veiled
+under kisses, appeared to him unspeakably hideous. He was mortally
+afraid of Bertha, as of a reptile, and when she embraced him he
+shuddered from head to foot.
+
+She was so calm, so engaging, so natural; her voice had the same soft
+and caressing tones, that he could not forget it. She plunged her
+hair-pin into the fatal vial without ceasing her conversation, and he
+did not surprise her in any shrinking or shuddering, nor even a
+trembling of the eyelids. She must have been made of brass. Yet he
+thought that she was not cautious enough; and that she put herself in
+danger of discovery; and he told her of these fears, and how she made
+him tremble every moment.
+
+"Have confidence in me," she answered. "I want to succeed--I am
+prudent."
+
+"But you may be suspected."
+
+"By whom?"
+
+"Eh! How do I know? Everyone--the servants, the doctor."
+
+"No danger. And suppose they did suspect?"
+
+"They would make examinations, Bertha; they would make a minute
+scrutiny."
+
+She gave a smile of the most perfect security.
+
+"They might examine and experiment as much as they pleased, they would
+find nothing. Do you think I am such a fool as to use arsenic?"
+
+"For Heaven's sake, hush!"
+
+"I have procured one of those poisons which are as yet unknown, and
+which defy all analysis; one of which many doctors--and learned ones,
+too--could not even tell the symptoms!"
+
+"But where did you get this--this--"
+
+He dared not say, "poison."
+
+"Who gave you that?" resumed he.
+
+"What matters it? I have taken care that he who gave it to me should run
+the same danger as myself, and he knows it. There's nothing to fear from
+that quarter. I've paid him enough to smother all his regrets."
+
+An objection came to his lips; he wanted to say, "It's too slow;" but he
+had not the courage, though she read his thought in his eyes.
+
+"It is slow, because that suits me," said she. "Before all, I must know
+about the will--and that I am trying to find out."
+
+She occupied herself constantly about this will, and during the long
+hours that she passed at Sauvresy's bedside, she gradually, with the
+greatest craft and delicacy, led her husband's mind in the direction of
+his last testament, with such success that he himself mentioned the
+subject which so absorbed Bertha.
+
+He said that he did not comprehend why people did not always have their
+worldly affairs in order, and their wishes fully written down, in case
+of accident. What difference did it make whether one were ill or well?
+At these words Bertha attempted to stop him. Such ideas, she said,
+pained her too much. She even shed real tears, which fell down her
+cheeks and made her more beautiful and irresistible than before; real
+tears which moistened her handkerchief.
+
+"You dear silly creature," said Sauvresy, "do you think that makes one
+die?"
+
+"No; but I do not wish it."
+
+"But, dear, have we been any the less happy because, on the day after
+our marriage, I made a will bequeathing you all my fortune? And, stop;
+you have a copy of it, haven't you? If you were kind, you would go and
+fetch it for me."
+
+She became very red, then very pale. Why did he ask for this copy? Did
+he want to tear it up? A sudden thought reassured her; people do not
+tear up a document which can be cancelled by a scratch of the pen on
+another sheet of paper. Still, she hesitated a moment.
+
+"I don't know where it can be."
+
+"But I do. It is in the left-hand drawer of the glass cupboard; come,
+please me by getting it."
+
+While she was gone, Sauvresy said to Hector:
+
+"Poor girl! Poor dear Bertha! If I died, she never would survive me!"
+
+Tremorel thought of nothing to reply; his anxiety was intense and
+visible.
+
+"And this man," thought he, "suspects something! No; it is not
+possible."
+
+Bertha returned.
+
+"I have found it," said she.
+
+"Give it to me."
+
+He took the copy of his will, and read it with evident satisfaction,
+nodding his head at certain passages in which he referred to his love
+for his wife. When he had finished reading, he said:
+
+"Now give me a pen and some ink."
+
+Hector and Bertha reminded him that it would fatigue him to write; but
+he insisted. The two guilty ones, seated at the foot of the bed and out
+of Sauvresy's sight, exchanged looks of alarm. What was he going to
+write? But he speedily finished it.
+
+"Take this," said he to Tremorel, "and read aloud what I have just
+added."
+
+Hector complied with his friend's request, with trembling voice:
+
+"This day, being sound in mind, though much suffering, I declare that I
+do not wish to change a line of this will. Never have I loved my wife
+more--never have I so much desired to leave her the heiress of all I
+possess, should I die before her.
+
+"CLEMENT SAUVRESY."
+
+
+Mistress of herself as Bertha was, she succeeded in concealing the
+unspeakable satisfaction with which she was filled. All her wishes were
+accomplished, and yet she was able to veil her delight under an apparent
+sadness.
+
+"Of what good is this?" said she, with a sigh.
+
+She said this, but half an hour afterward, when she was alone with
+Hector, she gave herself up to the extravagance of her delight.
+
+"Nothing more to fear," exclaimed she. "Nothing! Now we shall have
+liberty, fortune, love, pleasure, life! Why, Hector, we shall have at
+least three millions; you see, I've got this will myself, and I shall
+keep it. No more agents or notaries shall be admitted into this house
+henceforth. Now I must hasten!"
+
+The count certainly felt a satisfaction in knowing her to be rich, for
+he could much more easily get rid of a millionnaire widow than of a poor
+penniless woman. Sauvresy's conduct thus calmed many sharp anxieties.
+Her restless gayety, however, her confident security, seemed monstrous
+to Hector. He would have wished for more solemnity in the execution of
+the crime; he thought that he ought at least to calm Bertha's delirium.
+
+"You will think more than once of Sauvresy," said he, in a graver tone.
+
+She answered with a "prrr," and added vivaciously:
+
+"Of him? when and why? Oh, his memory will not weigh on me very heavily.
+I trust that we shall be able to live still at Valfeuillu, for the place
+pleases me; but we must also have a house at Paris--or we will buy yours
+back again. What happiness, Hector!"
+
+The mere prospect of this anticipated felicity so shocked Hector, that
+his better self for the moment got the mastery; he essayed to move
+Bertha.
+
+"For the last time," said he, "I implore you to renounce this terrible,
+dangerous project. You see that you were mistaken--that Sauvresy
+suspects nothing, but loves you as well as ever."
+
+The expression of Bertha's face suddenly changed; she sat quite still,
+in a pensive revery.
+
+"Don't let's talk any more of that," said she, at last. "Perhaps I was
+mistaken. Perhaps he only had doubts--perhaps, although he has
+discovered something, he hopes to win me back by his goodness. But you
+see--"
+
+She stopped. Doubtless she did not wish to alarm him.
+
+He was already much alarmed. The next day he went off to Melun without a
+word; being unable to bear the sight of this agony, and fearing to
+betray himself. But he left his address, and when she sent word that
+Sauvresy was always crying out for him, he hastily returned. Her letter
+was most imprudent and absurd, and made his hair stand on end. He had
+intended, on his arrival, to reproach her; but it was she who upbraided
+him.
+
+"Why this flight?"
+
+"I could not stay here--I suffered, trembled, felt as if I were dying."
+
+"What a coward you are!"
+
+He would have replied, but she put her finger on his mouth, and pointed
+with her other hand to the door of the next room.
+
+"Sh! Three doctors have been in consultation there for the past hour,
+and I haven't been able to hear a word of what they said. Who knows what
+they are about? I shall not be easy till they go away."
+
+Bertha's fears were not without foundation. When Sauvresy had his last
+relapse, and complained of a severe neuralgia in the face and an
+irresistible craving for pepper, Dr. R--- had uttered a significant
+exclamation. It was nothing, perhaps--yet Bertha had heard it, and she
+thought she surprised a sudden suspicion on the doctor's part; and this
+now disturbed her, for she thought that it might be the subject of the
+consultation. The suspicion, however, if there had ever been any,
+quickly vanished. The symptoms entirely changed twelve hours later, and
+the next day the sick man felt pains quite the opposite of those which
+had previously distressed him. This very inconstancy of the distemper
+served to puzzle the doctor's conclusions. Sauvresy, in these latter
+days, had scarcely suffered at all, he said, and had slept well at
+night; but he had, at times, strange and often distressing sensations.
+He was evidently failing hourly; he was dying--everyone perceived it.
+And now Dr. R--- asked for a consultation, the result of which had not
+been reached when Tremorel returned.
+
+The drawing-room door at last swung open, and the calm faces of the
+physicians reassured the poisoner. Their conclusions were that the case
+was hopeless; everything had been tried and exhausted; no human
+resources had been neglected; the only hope was in Sauvresy's strong
+constitution.
+
+Bertha, colder than marble, motionless, her eyes full of tears, seemed
+so full of grief on hearing this cruel decision, that all the doctors
+were touched.
+
+"Is there no hope then? Oh, my God!" cried she, in agonizing tones.
+
+Dr. R--- hardly dared to attempt to comfort her; he answered her
+questions evasively.
+
+"We must never despair," said he, "when the invalid is of Sauvresy's age
+and constitution; nature often works miracles when least expected."
+
+The doctor, however, lost no time in taking Hector apart and begging him
+to prepare the poor, devoted, loving young lady for the terrible blow
+about to ensue.
+
+"For you see," added he, "I don't think Monsieur Sauvresy can live more
+than two days!"
+
+Bertha, with her ear at the keyhole, had heard the doctor's prediction;
+and when Hector returned from conducting the physician to the door, he
+found her radiant. She rushed into his arms.
+
+"Now" cried she, "the future truly belongs to us. Only one black point
+obscured our horizon, and it has cleared away. It is for me to realize
+Doctor R--- 's prediction." They dined together, as usual, in the
+dining-room, while one of the chambermaids remained beside the sick-bed.
+Bertha was full of spirits which she could scarcely control. The
+certainty of success and safety, the assurance of reaching the end, made
+her imprudently gay. She spoke aloud, even in the presence of the
+servants, of her approaching liberty. During the evening she was more
+reckless than ever. If any of the servants should have a suspicion, or a
+shadow of one she might be discovered and lost. Hector constantly nudged
+her under the table and frowned at her, to keep her quiet; he felt his
+blood run cold at her conduct; all in vain. There are times when the
+armor of hypocrisy becomes so burdensome that one is forced, cost what
+it may, to throw it off if only for an instant.
+
+While Hector was smoking his cigar, Bertha was more freely pursuing her
+dream. She was thinking that she could spend the period of her mourning
+at Valfeuillu, and Hector, for the sake of appearances, would hire a
+pretty little house somewhere in the suburbs. The worst of it all was
+that she would be forced to seem to mourn for Sauvresy, as she had
+pretended to love him during his lifetime. But at last a day would come
+when, without scandal, she might throw off her mourning clothes, and
+then they would get married. Where? At Paris or Orcival?
+
+Hector's thoughts ran in the same channel. He, too, wished to see his
+friend under the ground to end his own terrors, and to submit to
+Bertha's terrible yoke.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+
+Time passed. Hector and Bertha repaired to Sauvresy's room; he was
+asleep. They noiselessly took chairs beside the fire, as usual, and the
+maid retired. In order that the sick man might not be disturbed by the
+light of the lamp, curtains had been hung so that, when lying down, he
+could not see the fireplace and mantel. In order to see these, he must
+have raised himself on his pillow and leaned forward on his right arm.
+But now he was asleep, breathing painfully, feverish, and shuddering
+convulsively. Bertha and Hector did not speak; the solemn and sinister
+silence was only broken by the ticking of the clock, or by the leaves of
+the book which Hector was reading. Ten o'clock struck; soon after
+Sauvresy moved, turned over, and awoke. Bertha was at his side in an
+instant; she saw that his eyes were open.
+
+"Do you feel a little better, dear Clement?" she asked.
+
+"Neither better nor worse."
+
+"Do you want anything?"
+
+"I am thirsty."
+
+Hector, who had raised his eyes when his friend spoke, suddenly resumed
+his reading.
+
+Bertha, standing by the mantel, began to prepare with great care Dr.
+R--- 's last prescription; when it was ready, she took out the fatal
+little vial as usual, and thrust one of her hair-pins into it.
+
+She had not time to draw it out before she felt a light touch upon her
+shoulder. A shudder shook her from head to foot; she suddenly turned and
+uttered a loud scream, a cry of terror and horror.
+
+"Oh!"
+
+The hand which had touched her was her husband's. While she was busied
+with the poison at the mantel, Sauvresy had softly raised himself; more
+softly still, he had pulled the curtain aside, and had stretched out his
+arm and touched her. His eyes glittered with hate and anger.
+
+Bertha's cry was answered by another dull cry, or rather groan; Tremorel
+had seen and comprehended all; he was overwhelmed.
+
+"All is discovered!" Their eyes spoke these three words to each other.
+They saw them everywhere, written in letters of fire. There was a moment
+of stupor, of silence so profound that Hector heard his temples beat.
+Sauvresy had got back under the bed-clothes again. He laughed loudly,
+wildly, just as a skeleton might have laughed whose jaws and teeth
+rattled together.
+
+But Bertha was not one of those persons who are overcome by a single
+blow, terrible as it might be. She trembled like a leaf; her legs
+staggered; but her mind was already at work seeking a subterfuge. What
+had Sauvresy seen--anything? What did he know? For even had he seen the
+vial, this might be explained. It could only have been by simple chance
+that he had touched her at the moment when she was using the poison. All
+these thoughts flashed across her mind in a moment, as rapid as
+lightning shooting between the clouds. And then she dared to approach
+the bed, and, with a frightfully constrained smile, to say:
+
+"How you frightened me then!"
+
+He looked at her a moment, which seemed to her an age--and simply
+replied:
+
+"I understand it."
+
+There was no longer any uncertainty. Bertha saw only too well in her
+husband's eyes that he knew something. But what--how much? She nerved
+herself to go on:
+
+"Are you still suffering?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then why did you get up?"
+
+He raised himself upon his pillow, and with a sudden strength, he
+continued:
+
+"I got up to tell you that I have had enough of these tortures, that I
+have reached the limits of human energy, that I cannot endure one day
+longer the agony of seeing myself put to death slowly, drop by drop, by
+the hands of my wife and my best friend!"
+
+He stopped. Hector and Bertha were thunderstruck. "I wanted to tell you
+also, that I have had enough of your cruel caution, and that I suffer.
+Ah, don't you see that I suffer horribly? Hurry, cut short my agony!
+Kill me, and kill me at a blow--poisoners!"
+
+At the last word, the Count de Tremorel sprang up as if he had moved by
+a spring, his eyes haggard, his arms stretched out. Sauvresy, seeing
+this, quickly slipped his hand under the pillow, pulled out a revolver,
+and pointed the barrel at Hector, crying out:
+
+"Don't advance a step!"
+
+He thought that Tremorel, seeing that they were discovered, was going to
+rush upon him and strangle him; but he was mistaken. It seemed to Hector
+as though he were losing his mind. He fell down as heavily as if he were
+a log. Bertha was more self-possessed; she tried to resist the torpor of
+terror which she felt coming on.
+
+"You are worse, my Clement," said she. "This is that dreadful fever
+which frightens me so. Delirium--"
+
+"Have I really been delirious?" interrupted he, with a surprised air.
+
+"Alas, yes, dear, that is what haunts you, and fills your poor sick head
+with horrid visions."
+
+He looked at her curiously. He was really stupefied by this boldness,
+which constantly grew more bold.
+
+"What! you think that we, who are so dear to you, your friends, I,
+your--"
+
+Her husband's implacable look forced her to stop, and the words expired
+on her lips.
+
+"Enough of these lies, Bertha," resumed Sauvresy, "they are useless. No,
+I have not been dreaming, nor have I been delirious. The poison is only
+too real, and I could tell you what it is without your taking it out of
+your pocket."
+
+She recoiled as if she had seen her husband's hand stretched out to
+snatch the blue vial.
+
+"I guessed it and recognized it at the very first; for you have chosen
+one of those poisons which, it is true, leave scarcely any trace of
+themselves, but the symptoms of which are not deceptive. Do you remember
+the day when I complained of a morbid taste for pepper? The next day I
+was certain of it, and I was not the only one. Doctor R---, too, had a
+suspicion."
+
+Bertha tried to stammer something; her husband interrupted her.
+
+"People ought to try their poisons," pursued he, in an ironical tone,
+"before they use them. Didn't you understand yours, or what its effects
+were? Why, your poison gives intolerable neuralgia, sleeplessness, and
+you saw me without surprise, sleeping soundly all night long! I
+complained of a devouring fire within me, while your poison freezes the
+blood and the entrails, and yet you are not astonished. You see all the
+symptoms change and disappear, and that does not enlighten you. You are
+fools, then. Now see what I had to do to divert Doctor R--- 's
+suspicions. I hid the real pains which your poison caused, and
+complained of imaginary, ridiculous ones. I described sensations just
+the opposite of those which I felt. You were lost, then--and I saved
+you."
+
+Bertha's malignant energy staggered beneath so many successive blows.
+She wondered whether she were not going mad; had she heard aright? Was
+it really true that her husband had perceived that he was being
+poisoned, and yet said nothing; nay, that he had even deceived the
+doctor? Why? What was his purpose?
+
+Sauvresy paused several minutes, and then went on:
+
+"I have held my tongue and so saved you, because the sacrifice of my
+life had already been made. Yes, I had been fatally wounded in the heart
+on the day that I learned that you were faithless to me."
+
+He spoke of his death without apparent emotion; but at the words, "You
+were faithless to me," his voice faltered and trembled.
+
+"I would not, could not believe it at first. I doubted the evidence of
+my senses, rather than doubt you. But I was forced to believe at last. I
+was no longer anything in my house but a laughing-stock. But I was in
+your way. You and your lover needed more room and liberty. You were
+tired of constraint and hypocrisy. Then it was that, believing that my
+death would make you free and rich, you brought in poison to rid
+yourselves of me."
+
+Bertha had at least the heroism of crime. All was discovered; well, she
+threw down the mask. She tried to defend her accomplice, who lay
+unconscious in a chair.
+
+"It is I that have done it all," cried she. "He is innocent."
+
+Sauvresy turned pale with rage.
+
+"Ah, really," said he, "my friend Hector is innocent! It wasn't he,
+then, who, to pay me up--not for his life, for he was too cowardly to
+kill himself; but for his honor, which he owes to me--took my wife from
+me? Wretch! I hold out my hand to him when he is drowning, I welcome him
+like a brother, and in return, he desolates my hearth!... And you
+knew what you were doing, my friend Hector--for I told you a hundred
+times that my wife was my all here below, my present and my future, my
+dream and happiness and hope and very life! You knew that for me to lose
+her was to die. But if you had loved her--no, it was not that you loved
+her; you hated me. Envy devoured you, and you could not tell me to my
+face, 'You are too happy.' Then, like a coward, you dishonored me in the
+dark. Bertha was only the instrument of your rancor; and she weighs upon
+you to-day--you despise and fear her. My friend, Hector, you have been
+in this house the vile lackey who thinks to avenge his baseness by
+spitting upon the meats which he puts on his master's table!"
+
+The count only responded by a shudder. The dying man's terrible words
+fell more cruelly on his conscience than blows upon his cheek.
+
+"See, Bertha," continued Sauvresy, "that's the man whom you have
+preferred to me, and for whom you have betrayed me. You never loved
+me--I see it now--your heart was never Mine. And I--I loved you so! From
+the day I first saw you, you were my only thought; as if your heart had
+beaten in place of Mine. Everything about you was dear and precious to
+me; I adored your whims, caprices, even your faults. There was nothing I
+would not do for a smile from you, so that you would say to me, Thank
+you, between two kisses. You don't know that for years after our
+marriage it was my delight to wake up first so as to gaze upon you as
+you lay asleep, to admire and touch your lovely hair, lying dishevelled
+across the pillow. Bertha!"
+
+He softened at the remembrance of these past joys, which would not come
+again. He forgot their presence, the infamous treachery, the poison;
+that he was about to die, murdered by this beloved wife; and his eyes
+filled with tears, his voice choked.
+
+Bertha, more motionless and pallid than marble, listened to him
+breathlessly.
+
+"It is true, then," continued the sick man, "that these lovely eyes
+conceal a soul of filth! Ah, who would not have been deceived, as I was?
+Bertha, what did you dream of when you were sleeping in my arms?
+Tremorel came, and you thought you saw in him the ideal of your dreams.
+You admired the precocious wrinkles which betrayed an exhausted life,
+like the fatal seal which marks the fallen archangel's forehead. Your
+love, without thought of mine, rushed toward him, though he did not
+think of you. You went to evil as if it were your nature. And yet I
+thought you more immaculate than the Alpine snows. You did not even have
+a struggle with yourself; you betrayed no confusion which would reveal
+your first fault to me. You brought me your forehead soiled with his
+kisses without blushing."
+
+Weariness overcame his energies; his voice became little by little
+feebler and less distinct.
+
+"You had your happiness in your hands, Bertha, and you carelessly
+destroyed it, as the child breaks the toy of whose value he is ignorant.
+What did you expect from this wretch for whom you had the frightful
+courage to kill me, with a kiss upon your lips, slowly, hour by hour?
+You thought you loved him, but disgust ought to have come at last. Look
+at him, and judge between us. See which is the--man--I, extended on this
+bed where I shall soon die, or he shivering there in a corner. You have
+the energy of crime, but he has only the baseness of it. Ah, if my name
+was Hector de Tremorel, and a man had spoken as I have just done, that
+man should live no longer, even if he had ten revolvers like this I am
+holding to defend himself with!"
+
+Hector, thus taunted, tried to get up and reply; but his legs would not
+support him, and his throat only gave hoarse, unintelligible sounds.
+Bertha, as she looked at the two men, recognized her error with rage and
+indignation. Her husband, at this moment, seemed to her sublime; his
+eyes gleamed, his face was radiant; while the other--the other! She felt
+sick with disgust when she but glanced toward him.
+
+Thus all these deceptive chimeras after which she had run, love,
+passion, poetry, were already hers; she had held them in her hands and
+she had not been able to perceive it. But what was Sauvresy's purpose?
+
+He continued, painfully:
+
+"This then, is our situation; you have killed me, you are going to be
+free, yet you hate and despise each other--"
+
+He stopped, and seemed to be suffocating; he tried to raise himself on
+his pillow and to sit up in bed, but found himself too feeble.
+
+"Bertha," said he, "help me get up."
+
+She leaned over the bed, and taking her husband in her arms, succeeded
+in placing him as he wished. He appeared more at ease in his new
+position, and took two or three long breaths.
+
+"Now," he said, "I should like something to drink. The doctor lets me
+take a little old wine, if I have a fancy for it; give me some."
+
+She hastened to bring him a glass of wine, which he emptied and handed
+back to her.
+
+"There wasn't any poison in it, was there?" he asked.
+
+This ghastly question and the smile which accompanied it, melted
+Bertha's callousness; remorse had already taken possession of her, as
+her disgust of Tremorel increased.
+
+"Poison?" she cried, eagerly, "never!"
+
+"You must give me some, though, presently, so as to help me to die."
+
+"You die, Clement? No; I want you to live, so that I may redeem the
+past. I am a wretch, and have committed a hideous crime--but you are
+good. You will live; I don't ask to be your wife, but only your servant.
+I will love you, humiliate myself, serve you on my knees, so that some
+day, after ten, twenty years of expiation, you will forgive me!"
+
+Hector in his mortal terror and anguish, was scarcely able to
+distinguish what was taking place. But he saw a dim ray of hope in
+Bertha's gestures and accent, and especially in her last words; he
+thought that perhaps it was all going to end and be forgotten, and that
+Sauvresy would pardon them. Half-rising, he stammered:
+
+"Yes, forgive us, forgive us!"
+
+Sauvresy's eyes glittered, and his angry voice vibrated as if it came
+from a throat of metal.
+
+"Forgive!" cried he, "pardon! Did you have pity on me during all this
+year that you have been playing with my happiness, during this fortnight
+that you have been mixing poison in all my potions? Pardon? What, are
+you fools? Why do you think I held my tongue, when I discovered your
+infamy, and let myself be poisoned, and threw the doctors off the scent?
+Do you really hope that I did this to prepare a scene of heartrending
+farewells, and to give you my benediction at the end? Ah, know me
+better!"
+
+Bertha was sobbing; she tried to take her husband's hand, but he rudely
+repulsed her.
+
+"Enough of these falsehoods," said he. "Enough of these perfidies. I
+hate you! You don't seem to perceive that hate is all that is still
+living in me."
+
+Sauvresy's expression was at this moment ferocious. "It is almost two
+months since I learned the truth; it broke me up, soul and body. Ah, it
+cost me a good deal to keep quiet--it almost killed me. But one thought
+sustained me; I longed to avenge myself. My mind was always bent on
+that; I searched for a punishment as great as this crime; I found none,
+could find none. Then you resolved to poison me. Mark this--that the
+very day when I guessed about the poison I had a thrill of joy, for I
+had discovered my vengeance!"
+
+A constantly increasing terror possessed Bertha, and now stupefied her,
+as well as Tremorel.
+
+"Why do you wish for my death? To be free and marry each other? Very
+well; I wish that also. The Count de Tremorel will be Madame Sauvresy's
+second husband."
+
+"Never!" cried Bertha. "No, never!"
+
+"Never!" echoed Hector.
+
+"It shall be so; nevertheless because I wish it. Oh, my precautions have
+been well taken, and you can't escape me. Now hear me. When I became
+certain that I was being poisoned, I began to write a minute history of
+all three of us; I did more--I have kept a journal day by day and hour
+by hour, narrating all the particulars of my illness; then I kept some
+of the poison which you gave me--"
+
+Bertha made a gesture of denial. Sauvresy proceeded:
+
+"Certainly, I kept it, and I will tell you how. Every time that Bertha
+gave me a suspicious potion, I kept a portion of it in my mouth, and
+carefully ejected it into a bottle which I kept hid under the bolster.
+Ah, you ask how I could have done all this without your suspecting it,
+or without being seen by any of the servants. Know that hate is stronger
+than love, be sure that I have left nothing to chance, nor have I
+forgotten anything."
+
+Hector and Bertha looked at Sauvresy with a dull, fixed gaze. They
+forced themselves to understand him, but could scarcely do so.
+
+"Let's finish," resumed the dying man, "my strength is waning. This very
+morning, the bottle containing the poison I have preserved, our
+biographies, and the narrative of my poisoning, have been put in the
+hands of a trustworthy and devoted person, whom, even if you knew him,
+you could not corrupt. He does not know the contents of what has been
+confided to him. The day that you get married this friend will give them
+all up to you. If, however, you are not married in a year from to-day,
+he has instructions to put these papers and this bottle into the hands
+of the officers of the law."
+
+A double cry of horror and anguish told Sauvresy that he had well chosen
+his vengeance.
+
+"And reflect," added he, "that this package once delivered up to
+justice, means the galleys, if not the scaffold for both of you."
+
+Sauvresy had overtasked his strength. He fell panting upon the bed, his
+mouth open, his eyes filmy, and his features so distorted that he seemed
+to be on the point of death. But neither Bertha nor Tremorel thought of
+trying to relieve him. They remained opposite each other with dilated
+eyes, stupefied, as if their thoughts were bent upon the torments of
+that future which the implacable vengeance of the man whom they had
+outraged imposed upon them. They were indissolubly united, confounded in
+a common destiny; nothing could separate them but death. A chain
+stronger and harder than that of the galley-slave bound them together; a
+chain of infamies and crimes, of which the first link was a kiss, and
+the last a murder by poison. Now Sauvresy might die; his vengeance was
+on their heads, casting a cloud upon their sun. Free in appearance, they
+would go through life crushed by the burden of the past, more slaves
+than the blacks in the American rice-fields. Separated by mutual hate
+and contempt, they saw themselves riveted together by the common terror
+of punishment, condemned to an eternal embrace.
+
+Bertha at this moment admired her husband. Now that he was so feeble
+that he breathed as painfully as an infant, she looked upon him as
+something superhuman. She had had no idea of such constancy and courage
+allied with so much dissimulation and genius. How cunningly he had found
+them out! How well he had known how to avenge himself! To be the master,
+he had only to will it. In a certain way she rejoiced in the strange
+atrocity of this scene; she felt something like a bitter pride in being
+one of the actors in it. At the same time she was transported with rage
+and sorrow in thinking that she had had this man in her power, that he
+had been at her feet. She almost loved him. Of all men, it was he whom
+she would have chosen were she mistress of her destinies; and he was
+going to escape her.
+
+Tremorel, while these strange ideas crowded upon Bertha's mind, began to
+come to himself. The certainty that Laurence was now forever lost for
+him occurred to him, and his despair was without bounds. The silence
+continued a full quarter of an hour. Sauvresy at last subdued the spasm
+which had exhausted him, and spoke.
+
+"I have not said all yet," he commenced.
+
+His voice was as feeble as a murmur, and yet it seemed terrible to his
+hearers.
+
+"You shall see whether I have reckoned and foreseen well. Perhaps, when
+I was dead, the idea of flying and going abroad would strike you. I
+shall not permit that. You must stay at Orcival--at Valfeuillu.
+A--friend--not he with the package--is charged, without knowing the
+reason for it, with the task of watching you. Mark well what I say--if
+either of you should disappear for eight days, on the ninth, the man who
+has the package would receive a letter which would cause him to resort
+at once to the police."
+
+Yes, he had foreseen all, and Tremorel, who had already thought of
+flight, was overwhelmed.
+
+"I have so arranged, besides, that the idea of flight shall not tempt
+you too much. It is true I have left all my fortune to Bertha, but I
+only give her the use of it; the property itself will not be hers until
+the day after your marriage."
+
+Bertha made a gesture of repugnance which her husband misinterpreted.
+
+"You are thinking of the copy of my will which is in your possession. It
+is a useless one, and I only added to it some valueless words because I
+wanted to put your suspicions to sleep. My true will is in the notary's
+hands, and bears a date two days later. I can read you the rough draft
+of it."
+
+He took a sheet of paper from a portfolio which was concealed; like the
+revolver, under the bolster, and read:
+
+"Being stricken with a fatal malady, I here set down freely, and in the
+fulness of my faculties, my last wishes:
+
+"My dearest wish is that my well-beloved widow, Bertha, should espouse,
+as soon as the delay enjoined by law has expired, my dear friend, the
+Count Hector de Tremorel. Having appreciated the grandeur of soul and
+nobleness of sentiment which belong to my wife and friend, I know that
+they are worthy of each other, and that each will be happy in the other.
+I die the more peacefully, as I leave my Bertha to a protector whose--"
+
+It was impossible for Bertha to hear more.
+
+"For pity's sake," cried she, "enough."
+
+"Enough? Well, let it be so," responded Sauvresy. "I have read this
+paper to you to show you that while I have arranged everything to insure
+the execution of my will; I have also done all that can preserve to you
+the world's respect. Yes, I wish that you should be esteemed and
+honored, for it is you alone upon whom I rely for my vengeance. I have
+knit around you a net-work which you can never burst asunder. You
+triumph; my tombstone shall be, as you hoped, the altar of your
+nuptials, or else--the galleys."
+
+Tremorel's pride at last revolted against so many humiliations, so many
+whip-strokes lashing his face.
+
+"You have only forgotten one thing, Sauvresy; that a man can die."
+
+"Pardon me," replied the sick man, coldly. "I have foreseen that also,
+and was just going to tell you so. Should one of you die suddenly before
+the marriage, the police will be called in."
+
+"You misunderstood me; I meant that a man can kill himself."
+
+"You kill yourself? Humph! Jenny, who disdains you almost as much as I
+do, has told me about your threats to kill yourself. You! See here; here
+is my revolver; shoot yourself, and I will forgive my wife!"
+
+Hector made a gesture of anger, but did not take the pistol.
+
+"You see," said Sauvresy, "I knew it well. You are afraid." Turning to
+Bertha, he added, "This is your lover."
+
+Extraordinary situations like this are so unwonted and strange that the
+actors in them almost always remain composed and natural, as if
+stupefied. Bertha, Hector, and Sauvresy accepted, without taking note of
+it, the strange position in which they found themselves; and they talked
+naturally, as if of matters of every-day life, and not of terrible
+events. But the hours flew, and Sauvresy perceived his life to be ebbing
+from him.
+
+"There only remains one more act to play," said he. "Hector, go and call
+the servants, have those who have gone to bed aroused, I want to see
+them before dying."
+
+Tremorel hesitated.
+
+"Come, go along; or shall I ring, or fire a pistol to bring them here?"
+
+Hector went out; Bertha remained alone with her husband--alone! She had
+a hope that perhaps she might succeed in making him change his purpose,
+and that she might obtain his forgiveness. She knelt beside the bed.
+Never had she been so beautiful, so seductive, so irresistible. The keen
+emotions of the evening had brought her whole soul into her face, and
+her lovely eyes supplicated, her breast heaved, her mouth was held out
+as if for a kiss, and her new-born passion for Sauvresy burst out into
+delirium.
+
+"Clement," she stammered, in a voice full of tenderness, "my husband,
+Clement!"
+
+He directed toward her a glance of hatred.
+
+"What do you wish?"
+
+She did not know how to begin--she hesitated, trembled and sobbed.
+
+"Hector would not kill himself," said she, "but I--"
+
+"Well, what do you wish to say? Speak!"
+
+"It was I, a wretch, who have killed you. I will not survive you."
+
+An inexpressible anguish distorted Sauvresy's features. She kill
+herself! If so, his vengeance was vain; his own death would then appear
+only ridiculous and absurd. And he knew that Bertha would not be wanting
+in courage at the critical moment.
+
+She waited, while he reflected.
+
+"You are free," said he, at last, "this would merely be a sacrifice to
+Hector. If you died, he would marry Laurence Courtois, and in a year
+would forget even our name."
+
+Bertha sprang to her feet; she pictured Hector to herself married and
+happy. A triumphant smile, like a sun's ray, brightened Sauvresy's pale
+face. He had touched the right chord. He might sleep in peace as to his
+vengeance. Bertha would live. He knew how hateful to each other were
+these enemies whom he left linked together.
+
+The servants came in one by one; nearly all of them had been long in
+Sauvresy's service, and they loved him as a good master. They wept and
+groaned to see him lying there so pale and haggard, with the stamp of
+death already on his forehead. Sauvresy spoke to them in a feeble voice,
+which was occasionally interrupted by distressing hiccoughs. He thanked
+them, he said, for their attachment and fidelity, and wished to apprise
+them that he had left each of them a goodly sum in his will. Then
+turning to Bertha and Hector, he resumed:
+
+"You have witnessed, my people, the care and solicitude with which my
+bedside has been surrounded by this incomparable friend and my adored
+Bertha. You have seen their devotion. Alas, I know how keen their sorrow
+will be! But if they wish to soothe my last moments and give me a happy
+death, they will assent to the prayer which I earnestly make, to them,
+and will swear to espouse each other after I am gone. Oh, my beloved
+friends, this seems cruel to you now; but you know not how all human
+pain is dulled in me. You are young, life has yet much happiness in
+store for you. I conjure you yield to a dying man's entreaties!"
+
+They approached the bed, and Sauvresy put Bertha's hand into Hector's.
+
+"Do you swear to obey me?" asked he.
+
+They shuddered to hold each other's hands, and seemed near fainting; but
+they answered, and were heard to murmur:
+
+"We swear it."
+
+The servants retired, grieved at this distressing scene, and Bertha
+muttered:
+
+"Oh, 'tis infamous, 'tis horrible!"
+
+"Infamous--yes," returned Sauvresy, "but not more so than your caresses,
+Bertha, or than your hand-pressures, Hector; not more horrible than your
+plans, than your hopes--"
+
+His voice sank into a rattle. Soon the agony commenced. Horrible
+convulsions distorted his limbs; twice or thrice he cried out:
+
+"I am cold; I am cold!"
+
+His body was indeed stiff, and nothing could warm it.
+
+Despair filled the house, for a death so sudden was not looked for. The
+domestics came and went, whispering to each other, "He is going, poor
+monsieur; poor madame!"
+
+Soon the convulsions ceased. He lay extended on his back, breathing so
+feebly that twice they thought his breath had ceased forever. At last, a
+little before ten o'clock, his cheeks suddenly colored and he shuddered.
+He rose up in bed, his eye staring, his arm stretched out toward the
+window, and he cried:
+
+"There--behind the curtain--I see them--I see them!"
+
+A last convulsion stretched him again on his pillow.
+
+Clement Sauvresy was dead!
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+
+The old justice of the peace ceased reading his voluminous record. His
+hearers, the detective and the doctor remained silent under the
+influence of this distressing narrative. M. Plantat had read it
+impressively, throwing himself into the recital as if he had been
+personally an actor in the scenes described.
+
+M. Lecoq was the first to recover himself.
+
+"A strange man, Sauvresy," said he.
+
+It was Sauvresy's extraordinary idea of vengeance which struck him in
+the story. He admired his "good playing" in a drama in which he knew he
+was going to yield up his life.
+
+"I don't know many people," pursued the detective, "capable of so
+fearful a firmness. To let himself be poisoned so slowly and gently by
+his wife! Brrr! It makes a man shiver all over!"
+
+"He knew how to avenge himself," muttered the doctor.
+
+"Yes," answered M. Plantat, "yes, Doctor; he knew how to avenge himself,
+and more terribly than he supposed, or than you can imagine."
+
+The detective rose from his seat. He had remained motionless, glued to
+his chair for more than three hours, and his legs were benumbed.
+
+"For my part," said he, "I can very well conceive what an infernal
+existence the murderers began to suffer the day after their victim's
+death. You have depicted them, Monsieur Plantat, with the hand of a
+master. I know them as well after your description as if I had studied
+them face to face for ten years."
+
+He spoke deliberately, and watched for the effect of what he said in M.
+Plantat's countenance.
+
+"Where on earth did this old fellow get all these details?" he asked
+himself. "Did he write this narrative, and if not, who did? How was it,
+if he had all this information, that he has said nothing?"
+
+M. Plantat appeared to be unconscious of the detective's searching look.
+
+"I know that Sauvresy's body was not cold," said he, "before his
+murderers began to threaten each other with death."
+
+"Unhappily for them," observed Dr. Gendron, "Sauvresy had foreseen the
+probability of his widow's using up the rest of the vial of poison."
+
+"Ah, he was shrewd," said M. Lecoq, in a tone of conviction, "very
+shrewd."
+
+"Bertha could not pardon Hector," continued M. Plantat, "for refusing to
+take the revolver and blow his brains out; Sauvresy, you see, had
+foreseen that. Bertha thought that if her lover were dead, her husband
+would have forgotten all; and it is impossible to tell whether she was
+mistaken or not."
+
+"And nobody knew anything of this horrible struggle that was going on in
+the house?"
+
+"No one ever suspected anything."
+
+"It's marvellous!"
+
+"Say, Monsieur Lecoq, that is scarcely credible. Never was dissimulation
+so crafty, and above all, so wonderfully sustained. If you should
+question the first person you met in Orcival, he would tell you, as our
+worthy Courtois this morning told Monsieur Domini, that the count and
+countess were a model pair and adored each other. Why I, who knew--or
+suspected, I should say--what had passed, was deceived myself."
+
+Promptly as M. Plantat had corrected himself, his slip of the tongue did
+not escape M. Lecoq.
+
+"Was it really a slip, or not?" he asked himself.
+
+"These wretches have been terribly punished," pursued M. Plantat, "and
+it is impossible to pity them; all would have gone rightly if Sauvresy,
+intoxicated by his hatred, had not committed a blunder which was almost
+a crime."
+
+"A crime!" exclaimed the doctor.
+
+M. Lecoq smiled and muttered in a low tone:
+
+"Laurence."
+
+But low as he had spoken, M. Plantat heard him.
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Lecoq," said he severely. "Yes, Laurence. Sauvresy did a
+detestable thing when he thought of making this poor girl the
+accomplice, or I should say, the instrument of his wrath. He piteously
+threw her between these two wretches, without asking himself whether she
+would be broken. It was by using Laurence's name that he persuaded
+Bertha not to kill herself. Yet he knew of Tremorel's passion for her,
+he knew her love for him, and he knew that his friend was capable of
+anything. He, who had so well foreseen all that could serve his
+vengeance, did not deign to foresee that Laurence might be dishonored;
+and yet he left her disarmed before this most cowardly and infamous of
+men!"
+
+The detective reflected.
+
+"There is one thing," said he, "that I can't explain. Why was it that
+these two, who execrated each other, and whom the implacable will of
+their victim chained together despite themselves, did not separate of
+one accord the day after their marriage, when they had fulfilled the
+condition which had established their crime?"
+
+The old justice of the peace shook his head.
+
+"I see," he answered, "that I have not yet made you understand Bertha's
+resolute character. Hector would have been delighted with a separation;
+his wife could not consent to it. Ah, Sauvresy knew her well! She saw
+her life ruined, a horrible remorse lacerated her; she must have a
+victim upon whom to expiate her errors and crimes; this victim was
+Hector. Ravenous for her prey, she would not let him go for anything in
+the world."
+
+"I' faith," observed Dr. Gendron, "your Tremorel was a chicken-hearted
+wretch. What had he to fear when Sauvresy's manuscript was once
+destroyed?"
+
+"Who told you it had been destroyed?" interrupted M. Plantat.
+
+M. Lecoq at this stopped promenading up and down the room, and sat down
+opposite M. Plantat.
+
+"The whole case lies there," said he. "Whether these proofs have or have
+not been destroyed."
+
+M. Plantat did not choose to answer directly.
+
+"Do you know," asked he, "to whom Sauvresy confided them for keeping?"
+
+"Ah," cried the detective, as if a sudden idea had enlightened him, "it
+was you."
+
+He added to himself, "Now, my good man, I begin to see where all your
+information comes from."
+
+"Yes, it was I," resumed M. Plantat. "On the day of the marriage of
+Madame Sauvresy and Count Hector, in conformity with the last wishes of
+my dying friend, I went to Valfeuillu and asked to see Monsieur and
+Madame de Tremorel. Although they were full of company, they received me
+at once in the little room on the ground-floor where Sauvresy was
+murdered. They were both very pale and terribly troubled. They evidently
+guessed the purpose of my visit, for they lost no time in admitting me
+to an interview. After saluting them I addressed myself to Bertha, being
+enjoined to do so by the written instructions I had received; this was
+another instance of Sauvresy's foresight. 'Madame,' said I, 'I was
+charged by your late husband to hand to you, on the day of your second
+marriage, this package, which he confided to my care.' She took the
+package, in which the bottle and the manuscript were enclosed, with a
+smiling, even joyous air, thanked me warmly, and went out. The count's
+expression instantly changed; he appeared very restless and agitated; he
+seemed to be on coals. I saw well enough that he burned to rush after
+his wife, but dared not; I was going to retire; but he stopped me.
+'Pardon me,' said he, abruptly, 'you will permit me, will you not? I
+will return immediately,' with which he ran out. When I saw him and his
+wife a few minutes afterward, they were both very red; their eyes had a
+strange expression and their voices trembled, as they accompanied me to
+the door. They had certainly been having a violent altercation."
+
+"The rest may be conjectured," interrupted M. Lecoq. "She had gone to
+secrete the manuscript in some safe place; and when her new husband
+asked her to give it up to him, she replied, 'Look for it.'"
+
+"Sauvresy had enjoined on me to give it only into her hands."
+
+"Oh, he knew how to work his revenge. He had it given to his wife so
+that she might hold a terrible arm against Tremorel, all ready to crush
+him. If he revolted, she always had this instrument of torture at hand.
+Ah, the man was a miserable wretch, and she must have made him suffer
+terribly."
+
+"Yes," said Dr. Gendron, "up to the very day he killed her."
+
+The detective had resumed his promenade up and down the library.
+
+"The question as to the poison," said he, "remains. It is a simple one
+to resolve, because we've got the man who sold it to her in that
+closet."
+
+"Besides," returned the doctor, "I can tell something about the poison.
+This rascal of a Robelot stole it from my laboratory, and I know only
+too well what it is, even if the symptoms, so well described by our
+friend Plantat, had not indicated its name to me. I was at work upon
+aconite when Sauvresy died; and he was poisoned with aconitine."
+
+"Ah, with aconitine," said M. Lecoq, surprised. "It's the first time
+that I ever met with that poison. Is it a new thing?"
+
+"Not exactly. Medea is said to have extracted her deadliest poisons from
+aconite, and it was employed in Rome and Greece in criminal executions."
+
+"And I did not know of it! But I have very little time to study.
+Besides, this poison of Medea's was perhaps lost, as was that of the
+Borgias; so many of these things are!"
+
+"No, it was not lost, be assured. But we only know of it nowadays by
+Mathiole's experiments on felons sentenced to death, in the sixteenth
+century; by Hers, who isolated the active principle, the alkaloid, in
+1833 and lastly by certain experiments made by Bouchardat, who
+pretends--"
+
+Unfortunately, when Dr. Gendron was set agoing on poisons, it was
+difficult to stop him; but M. Lecoq, on the other hand, never lost sight
+of the end he had in view.
+
+"Pardon me for interrupting you, Doctor," said he. "But would traces of
+aconitine be found in a body which had been two years buried? For
+Monsieur Domini is going to order the exhumation of Sauvresy."
+
+"The tests of aconitine are not sufficiently well known to permit of the
+isolation of it in a body. Bouchardat tried ioduret of potassium, but
+his experiment was not successful."
+
+"The deuce!" said M. Lecoq. "That's annoying."
+
+The doctor smiled benignly.
+
+"Reassure yourself," said he. "No such process was in existence--so I
+invented one."
+
+"Ah," cried Plantat. "Your sensitive paper!"
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"And could you find aconitine in Sauvresy's body?"
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+M. Lecoq was radiant, as if he were now certain of fulfilling what had
+seemed to him a very difficult task.
+
+"Very well," said he. "Our inquest seems to be complete. The history of
+the victims imparted to us by Monsieur Plantat gives us the key to all
+the events which have followed the unhappy Sauvresy's death. Thus, the
+hatred of this pair, who were in appearance so united, is explained; and
+it is also clear why Hector has ruined a charming young girl with a
+splendid dowry, instead of making her his wife. There is nothing
+surprising in Tremorel's casting aside his name and personality to
+reappear under another guise; he killed his wife because he was
+constrained to do so by the logic of events. He could not fly while she
+was alive, and yet he could not continue to live at Valfeuillu. And
+above all, the paper for which he searched with such desperation, when
+every moment was an affair of life and death to him, was none other than
+Sauvresy's manuscript, his condemnation and the proof of his first
+crime."
+
+M. Lecoq talked eagerly, as if he had a personal animosity against the
+Count de Tremorel; such was his nature; and he always avowed laughingly
+that he could not help having a grudge against the criminals whom he
+pursued. There was an account to settle between him and them; hence the
+ardor of his pursuit. Perhaps it was a simple matter of instinct with
+him, like that which impels the hunting hound on the track of his game.
+
+"It is clear enough now," he went on, "that it was Mademoiselle Courtois
+who put an end to his hesitation and eternal delay. His passion for her,
+irritated by obstacles, goaded him to delirium. On learning her
+condition, he lost his head and forgot all prudence and reason. He was
+wearied, too, of a punishment which began anew each morning; he saw
+himself lost, and his wife sacrificing herself for the malignant
+pleasure of sacrificing him. Terrified, he took the resolution to commit
+this murder."
+
+Many of the circumstances which had established M. Lecoq's conviction
+had escaped Dr. Gendron.
+
+"What!" cried he, stupefied. "Do you believe in Mademoiselle Laurence's
+complicity?"
+
+The detective earnestly protested by a gesture.
+
+"No, Doctor, certainly not; heaven forbid that I should have such an
+idea. Mademoiselle Courtois was and is still ignorant of this crime. But
+she knew that Tremorel would abandon his wife for her. This flight had
+been discussed, planned, and agreed upon between them; they made an
+appointment to meet at a certain place, on a certain day."
+
+"But this letter," said the doctor.
+
+M. Plantat could scarcely conceal his emotion when Laurence was being
+talked about.
+
+"This letter," cried he, "which has plunged her family into the deepest
+grief, and which will perhaps kill poor Courtois, is only one more scene
+of the infamous drama which the count has planned."
+
+"Oh," said the doctor, "is it possible?"
+
+"I am firmly of Monsieur Plantat's opinion," said the detective. "Last
+evening we had the same suspicion at the same moment at the mayor's. I
+read and re-read her letter, and could have sworn that it did not
+emanate from herself. The count gave her a rough draft from which she
+copied it. We mustn't deceive ourselves; this letter was meditated,
+pondered on, and composed at leisure. Those were not the expressions of
+an unhappy young girl of twenty who was going to kill herself to escape
+dishonor."
+
+"Perhaps you are right," remarked the doctor visibly moved. "But how can
+you imagine that Tremorel succeeded in persuading her to do this
+wretched act?"
+
+"How? See here, Doctor, I am not much experienced in such things, having
+seldom had occasion to study the characters of well-brought-up young
+girls; yet it seems to me very simple. Mademoiselle Courtois saw the
+time coming when her disgrace would be public, and so prepared for it,
+and was even ready to die if necessary."
+
+M. Plantat shuddered; a conversation which he had had with Laurence
+occurred to him. She had asked him, he remembered, about certain
+poisonous plants which he was cultivating, and had been anxious to know
+how the poisonous juices could be extracted from them.
+
+"Yes," said he, "she has thought of dying."
+
+"Well," resumed the detective, "the count took her in one of the moods
+when these sad thoughts haunted the poor girl, and was easily able to
+complete his work of ruin. She undoubtedly told him that she preferred
+death to shame, and he proved to her that, being in the condition in
+which she was, she had no right to kill herself. He said that he was
+very unhappy; and that not being free, he could not repair his fault;
+but he offered to sacrifice his life for her. What should she do to save
+both of them? Abandon her parents, make them believe that she had
+committed suicide, while he, on his side, would desert his house and his
+wife. Doubtless she resisted for awhile; but she finally consented to
+everything; she fled, and copied and posted the infamous letter dictated
+by her lover."
+
+The doctor was convinced.
+
+"Yes," he muttered, "those are doubtless the means he employed."
+
+"But what an idiot he was," resumed M. Lecoq, "not to perceive that the
+strange coincidence between his disappearance and Laurence's suicide
+would be remarked! He said to himself, 'Probably people will think that
+I, as well as my wife, have been murdered; and the law, having its
+victim in Guespin, will not look for any other.'"
+
+M. Plantat made a gesture of impotent rage.
+
+"Ah," cried he, "and we know not where the wretch has hid himself and
+Laurence."
+
+The detective took him by the arm and pressed it.
+
+"Reassure yourself," said he, coolly. "We'll find him, or my name's not
+Lecoq; and to be honest, I must say that our task does not seem to me a
+difficult one."
+
+Several timid knocks at the door interrupted the speaker. It was late,
+and the household was already awake and about. Mme. Petit in her anxiety
+and curiosity had put her ear to the key-hole at least ten times, but in
+vain.
+
+"What can they be up to in there?" said she to Louis. "Here they've been
+shut up these twelve hours without eating or drinking. At all events
+I'll get breakfast."
+
+It was not Mme. Petit, however, who dared to knock on the door; but
+Louis, the gardener, who came to tell his master of the ravages which
+had been made in his flower-pots and shrubs. At the same time he brought
+in certain singular articles which he had picked up on the sward, and
+which M. Lecoq recognized at once.
+
+"Heavens!" cried he, "I forgot myself. Here I go on quietly talking with
+my face exposed, as if it was not broad daylight; and people might come
+in at any moment!" And turning to Louis, who was very much surprised to
+see this dark young man whom he had certainly not admitted the night
+before, he added:
+
+"Give me those little toilet articles, my good fellow; they belong to
+me."
+
+Then, by a turn of his hand, he readjusted his physiognomy of last
+night, while the master of the house went out to give some orders, which
+M. Lecoq did so deftly, that when M. Plantat returned, he could scarcely
+believe his eyes.
+
+They sat down to breakfast and ate their meal as silently as they had
+done the dinner of the evening before, losing no time about it. They
+appreciated the value of the passing moments; M. Domini was waiting for
+them at Corbeil, and was doubtless getting impatient at their delay.
+
+Louis had just placed a sumptuous dish of fruit upon the table, when it
+occurred to M. Lecoq that Robelot was still shut up in the closet.
+
+"Probably the rascal needs something," said he.
+
+M. Plantat wished to send his servant to him; but M. Lecoq objected.
+
+"He's a dangerous rogue," said he. "I'll go myself."
+
+He went out, but almost instantly his voice was heard:
+
+"Messieurs! Messieurs, see here!"
+
+The doctor and M. Plantat hastened into the library.
+
+Across the threshold of the closet was stretched the body of the
+bone-setter. He had killed himself.
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+
+Robelot must have had rare presence of mind and courage to kill himself
+in that obscure closet, without making enough noise to arouse the
+attention of those in the library. He had wound a string tightly around
+his neck, and had used a piece of pencil as a twister, and so had
+strangled himself. He did not, however, betray the hideous look which
+the popular belief attributes to those who have died by strangulation.
+His face was pale, his eyes and mouth half open, and he had the
+appearance of one who has gradually and without much pain lost his
+consciousness by congestion of the brain.
+
+"Perhaps he is not quite dead yet," said the doctor. He quickly pulled
+out his case of instruments and knelt beside the motionless body.
+
+This incident seemed to annoy M. Lecoq very much; just as everything
+was, as he said, "running on wheels," his principal witness, whom he had
+caught at the peril of his life, had escaped him. M. Plantat, on the
+contrary, seemed tolerably well satisfied, as if the death of Robelot
+furthered projects which he was secretly nourishing, and fulfilled his
+secret hopes. Besides, it little mattered if the object was to oppose M.
+Domini's theories and induce him to change his opinion. This corpse had
+more eloquence in it than the most explicit of confessions.
+
+The doctor, seeing the uselessness of his pains, got up.
+
+"It's all over," said he. "The asphyxia was accomplished in a very few
+moments."
+
+The bone-setter's body was carefully laid on the floor in the library.
+
+"There is nothing more to be done," said M. Plantat, "but to carry him
+home; we will follow on so as to seal up his effects, which perhaps
+contain important papers. Run to the mairie," he added, turning to his
+servant, "and get a litter and two stout men."
+
+Dr. Gendron's presence being no longer necessary, he promised M. Plantat
+to rejoin him at Robelot's, and started off to inquire after M.
+Courtois's condition.
+
+Louis lost no time, and soon reappeared followed, not by two, but ten
+men. The body was placed on a litter and carried away. Robelot occupied
+a little house of three rooms, where he lived by himself; one of the
+rooms served as a shop, and was full of plants, dried herbs, grain, and
+other articles appertaining to his vocation as an herbist. He slept in
+the back room, which was better furnished than most country rooms. His
+body was placed upon the bed. Among the men who had brought it was the
+"drummer of the town," who was at the same time the grave-digger. This
+man, expert in everything pertaining to funerals, gave all the necessary
+instructions on the present occasion, himself taking part in the
+lugubrious task.
+
+Meanwhile M. Plantat examined the furniture, the keys of which had been
+taken from the deceased's pocket. The value of the property found in the
+possession of this man, who had, two years before, lived from day to day
+on what he could pick up, were an over-whelming proof against him in
+addition to the others already discovered. But M. Plantat looked in vain
+for any new indications of which he was ignorant. He found deeds of the
+Morin property and of the Frapesle and Peyron lands; there were also two
+bonds, for one hundred and fifty and eight hundred and twenty francs,
+signed by two Orcival citizens in Robelot's favor. M. Plantat could
+scarcely conceal his disappointment.
+
+"Nothing of importance," whispered he in M. Lecoq's ear. "How do you
+explain that?"
+
+"Perfectly," responded the detective. "He was a sly rogue, this Robelot,
+and he was cunning enough to conceal his sudden fortune and patient
+enough to appear to be years accumulating it. You only find in his
+secretary effects which he thought he could avow without danger. How
+much is there in all?"
+
+Plantat rapidly added up the different sums, and said:
+
+"About fourteen thousand five hundred francs."
+
+"Madame Sauvresy gave him more than that," said the detective,
+positively. "If he had no more than this, he would not have been such a
+fool as to put it all into land. He must have a hoard of money concealed
+somewhere."
+
+"Of course he must. But where?"
+
+"Ah, let me look."
+
+He began to rummage about, peering into everything in the room, moving
+the furniture, sounding the floor with his heels, and rapping on the
+wall here and there. Finally he came to the fireplace, before which he
+stopped.
+
+"This is July," said he. "And yet there are cinders here in the
+fireplace."
+
+"People sometimes neglect to clean them out in the spring."
+
+"True; but are not these very clean and distinct? I don't find any of
+the light dust and soot on them which ought to be there after they have
+lain several months."
+
+He went into the second room whither he had sent the men after they had
+completed their task, and said:
+
+"I wish one of you would get me a pickaxe."
+
+All the men rushed out; M. Lecoq returned to his companion.
+
+"Surely," muttered he, as if apart, "these cinders have been disturbed
+recently, and if they have been--"
+
+He knelt down, and pushing the cinders away, laid bare the stones of the
+fireplace. Then taking a thin piece of wood, he easily inserted it into
+the cracks between the stones.
+
+"See here, Monsieur Plantat," said he. "There is no cement between these
+stones, and they are movable; the treasure must be here."
+
+When the pickaxe was brought, he gave a single blow with it; the stones
+gaped apart, and betrayed a wide and deep hole between them.
+
+"Ah," cried he, with a triumphant air, "I knew it well enough."
+
+The hole was full of rouleaux of twenty-franc pieces; on counting them,
+M. Lecoq found that there were nineteen thousand five hundred francs.
+
+The old justice's face betrayed an expression of profound grief.
+
+"That," thought he, "is the price of my poor Sauvresy's life."
+
+M. Lecoq found a small piece of paper, covered with figures, deposited
+with the gold; it seemed to be Robelot's accounts. He had put on the
+left hand the sum of forty thousand francs; on the right hand, various
+sums were inscribed, the total of which was twenty-one thousand five
+hundred francs. It was only too clear; Mme. Sauvresy had paid Robelot
+forty thousand francs for the bottle of poison. There was nothing more
+to learn at his house. They locked the money up in the secretary, and
+affixed seals everywhere, leaving two men on guard.
+
+But M. Lecoq was not quite satisfied yet. What was the manuscript which
+Plantat had read? At first he had thought that it was simply a copy of
+the papers confided to him by Sauvresy; but it could not be that;
+Sauvresy couldn't have thus described the last agonizing scenes of his
+life. This mystery mightily worried the detective and dampened the joy
+he felt at having solved the crime at Valfeuillu. He made one more
+attempt to surprise Plantat into satisfying his curiosity. Taking him by
+the coat-lapel, he drew him into the embrasure of a window, and with his
+most innocent air, said:
+
+"I beg your pardon, are we going back to your house?"
+
+"Why should we? You know the doctor is going to meet us here."
+
+"I think we may need the papers you read to us, to convince Monsieur
+Domini."
+
+M. Plantat smiled sadly, and looking steadily at him, replied:
+
+"You are very sly, Monsieur Lecoq; but I too am sly enough to keep the
+last key of the mystery of which you hold all the others."
+
+"Believe me--" stammered M. Lecoq.
+
+"I believe," interrupted his companion, "that you would like very well
+to know the source of my information. Your memory is too good for you to
+forget that when I began last evening I told you that this narrative was
+for your ear alone, and that I had only one object in disclosing it--to
+aid our search. Why should you wish the judge of instruction to see
+these notes, which are purely personal, and have no legal or authentic
+character?"
+
+He reflected a few moments, and added:
+
+"I have too much confidence in you, Monsieur Lecoq, and esteem you too
+much, not to have every trust that you will not divulge these strict
+confidences. What you will say will be of as much weight as anything I
+might divulge--especially now that you have Robelot's body to back your
+assertions, as well as the money found in his possession. If Monsieur
+Domini still hesitates to believe you, you know that the doctor promises
+to find the poison which killed Sauvresy."
+
+M. Plantat stopped and hesitated.
+
+"In short," he resumed, "I think you will be able to keep silence as to
+what you have heard from me."
+
+M. Lecoq took him by the hand, and pressing it significantly, said:
+
+"Count on me, Monsieur."
+
+At this moment Dr. Gendron appeared at the door.
+
+"Courtois is better," said he. "He weeps like a child; but he will come
+out of it."
+
+"Heaven be praised!" cried the old justice of the peace. "Now, since
+you've come, let us hurry off to Corbeil; Monsieur Domini, who is
+waiting for us this morning, must be mad with impatience."
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+
+M. Plantat, in speaking of M. Domini's impatience, did not exaggerate
+the truth. That personage was furious; he could not comprehend the
+reason of the prolonged absence of his three fellow-workers of the
+previous evening. He had installed himself early in the morning in his
+cabinet, at the court-house, enveloped in his judicial robe; and he
+counted the minutes as they passed. His reflections during the night,
+far from shaking, had only confirmed his opinion. As he receded from the
+period of the crime, he found it very simple and natural--indeed, the
+easiest thing in the world to account for. He was annoyed that the rest
+did not share his convictions, and he awaited their report in a state of
+irritation which his clerk only too well perceived. He had eaten his
+breakfast in his cabinet, so as to be sure and be beforehand with M.
+Lecoq. It was a useless precaution; for the hours passed on and no one
+arrived.
+
+To kill time, he sent for Guespin and Bertaud and questioned them anew,
+but learned nothing more than he had extracted from them the night
+before. One of the prisoners swore by all things sacred that he knew
+nothing except what he had already told; the other preserved an
+obstinate and ferocious silence, confining himself to the remark: "I
+know that I am lost; do with me what you please."
+
+M. Domini was just going to send a mounted gendarme to Orcival to find
+out the cause of the delay, when those whom he awaited were announced.
+He quickly gave the order to admit them, and so keen was his curiosity,
+despite what he called his dignity, that he got up and went forward to
+meet them.
+
+"How late you are!" said he.
+
+"And yet we haven't lost a minute," replied M. Plantat. "We haven't even
+been in bed."
+
+"There is news, then? Has the count's body been found?"
+
+"There is much news, Monsieur," said M. Lecoq. "But the count's body has
+not been found, and I dare even say that it will not be found--for the
+very simple fact that he has not been killed. The reason is that he was
+not one of the victims, as at first supposed, but the assassin."
+
+At this distinct declaration on M. Lecoq's part, the judge started in
+his seat.
+
+"Why, this is folly!" cried he.
+
+M. Lecoq never smiled in a magistrate's presence. "I do not think so,"
+said he, coolly; "I am persuaded that if Monsieur Domini will grant me
+his attention for half an hour I will have the honor of persuading him
+to share my opinion."
+
+M. Domini's slight shrug of the shoulders did not escape the detective,
+but he calmly continued:
+
+"More; I am sure that Monsieur Domini will not permit me to leave his
+cabinet without a warrant to arrest Count Hector de Tremorel, whom at
+present he thinks to be dead."
+
+"Possibly," said M. Domini. "Proceed."
+
+M. Lecoq then rapidly detailed the facts gathered by himself and M.
+Plantat from the beginning of the inquest. He narrated them not as if he
+had guessed or been told of them, but in their order of time and in such
+a manner that each new incident which, he mentioned followed naturally
+from the preceding one. He had completely resumed his character of a
+retired haberdasher, with a little piping voice, and such obsequious
+expressions as, "I have the honor," and "If Monsieur the Judge will
+deign to permit me;" he resorted to the candy-box with the portrait,
+and, as the night before at Valfeuillu, chewed a lozenge when he came to
+the more striking points. M. Domini's surprise increased every minute as
+he proceeded; while at times, exclamations of astonishment passed his
+lips: "Is it possible?" "That is hard to believe!"
+
+M. Lecoq finished his recital; he tranquilly munched a lozenge, and
+added:
+
+"What does Monsieur the Judge of Instruction think now?"
+
+M. Domini was fain to confess that he was almost satisfied. A man,
+however, never permits an opinion deliberately and carefully formed to
+be refuted by one whom he looks on as an inferior, without a secret
+chagrin. But in this case the evidence was too abundant, and too
+positive to be resisted.
+
+"I am convinced," said he, "that a crime was committed on Monsieur
+Sauvresy with the dearly paid assistance of this Robelot. To-morrow I
+shall give instructions to Doctor Gendron to proceed at once to an
+exhumation and autopsy of the late master of Valfeuillu."
+
+"And you may be sure that I shall find the poison," chimed in the
+doctor.
+
+"Very well," resumed M. Domini. "But does it necessarily follow that
+because Monsieur Tremorel poisoned his friend to marry his widow, he
+yesterday killed his wife and then fled? I don't think so."
+
+"Pardon me," objected Lecoq, gently. "It seems to me that Mademoiselle
+Courtois's supposed suicide proves at least something."
+
+"That needs clearing up. This coincidence can only be a matter of pure
+chance."
+
+"But I am sure that Monsieur Tremorel shaved himself--of that we have
+proof; then, we did not find the boots which, according to the valet, he
+put on the morning of the murder."
+
+"Softly, softly," interrupted the judge. "I don't pretend that you are
+absolutely wrong; it must be as you say; only I give you my objections.
+Let us admit that Tremorel killed his wife, that he fled and is alive.
+Does that clear Guespin, and show that he took no part in the murder?"
+
+This was evidently the flaw in Lecoq's case; but being convinced of
+Hector's guilt, he had given little heed to the poor gardener, thinking
+that his innocence would appear of itself when the real criminal was
+arrested. He was about to reply, when footsteps and voices were heard in
+the corridor.
+
+"Stop," said M. Domini. "Doubtless we shall now hear something important
+about Guespin."
+
+"Are you expecting some new witness?" asked M. Plantat.
+
+"No; I expect one of the Corbeil police to whom I have given an
+important mission."
+
+"Regarding Guespin?"
+
+"Yes. Very early this morning a young working-woman of the town, whom
+Guespin has been courting, brought me an excellent photograph of him. I
+gave this portrait to the agent with instructions to go to the Vulcan's
+Forges and ascertain if Guespin had been seen there, and whether he
+bought anything there night before last."
+
+M. Lecoq was inclined to be jealous; the judge's proceeding ruffled him,
+and he could not conceal an expressive grimace.
+
+"I am truly grieved," said he, dryly, "that Monsieur the Judge has so
+little confidence in me that he thinks it necessary to give me
+assistance."
+
+This sensitiveness aroused M. Domini, who replied:
+
+"Eh! my dear man, you can't be everywhere at once. I think you very
+shrewd, but you were not here, and I was in a hurry."
+
+"A false step is often irreparable."
+
+"Make yourself easy; I've sent an intelligent man." At this moment the
+door opened, and the policeman referred to by the judge appeared on the
+threshold. He was a muscular man about forty years old, with a military
+pose, a heavy mustache, and thick brows, meeting over the nose. He had a
+sly rather than a shrewd expression, so that his appearance alone seemed
+to awake all sorts of suspicions and put one instinctively on his guard.
+
+"Good news!" said he in a big voice: "I didn't make the journey to Paris
+for the King of Prussia; we are right on the track of this rogue of a
+Guespin."
+
+M. Domini encouraged him with an approving gesture.
+
+"See here, Goulard," said he, "let us go on in order if we can. You went
+then, according to my instructions, to the Vulcan's Forges?"
+
+"At once, Monsieur."
+
+"Precisely. Had they seen the prisoner there?"
+
+"Yes; on the evening of Wednesday, July 8th."
+
+"At what hour?"
+
+"About ten o'clock, a few minutes before they shut up; so that he was
+remarked, and the more distinctly observed."
+
+The judge moved his lips as if to make an objection, but was stopped by
+a gesture from M. Lecoq.
+
+"And who recognized the photograph?"
+
+"Three of the clerks. Guespin's manner first attracted their attention.
+It was strange, so they said, and they thought he was drunk, or at least
+tipsy. Then their recollection was fixed by his talking very fast,
+saying that he was going to patronize them a great deal, and that if
+they would make a reduction in their prices he would procure for them
+the custom of an establishment whose confidence he possessed, the Gentil
+Jardinier, which bought a great many gardening tools."
+
+M. Domini interrupted the examination to consult some papers which lay
+before him on his desk. It was, he found, the Gentil Jardinier which had
+procured Guespin his place in Tremorel's household. The judge remarked
+this aloud, and added:
+
+"The question of identity seems to be settled. Guespin was undoubtedly
+at the Vulcan's Forges on Wednesday night."
+
+"So much the better for him," M. Lecoq could not help muttering.
+
+The judge heard him, but though the remark seemed singular to him he did
+not notice it, and went on questioning the agent.
+
+"Well, did they tell you what Guespin went there to obtain?"
+
+"The clerks recollected it perfectly. He first bought a hammer, a cold
+chisel, and a file."
+
+"I knew it," exclaimed the judge. "And then?"
+
+"Then--"
+
+Here the man, ambitious to make a sensation among his hearers, rolled
+his eyes tragically, and in a dramatic tone, added:
+
+"Then he bought a dirk knife!"
+
+The judge felt that he was triumphing over M. Lecoq.
+
+"Well," said he to the detective in his most ironical tone, "what do you
+think of your friend now? What do you say to this honest and worthy
+young man, who, on the very night of the crime, leaves a wedding where
+he would have had a good time, to go and buy a hammer, a chisel, and a
+dirk--everything, in short, used in the murder and the mutilation of the
+body?"
+
+Dr. Gendron seemed a little disconcerted at this, but a sly smile
+overspread M. Plantat's face. As for M. Lecoq, he had the air of one who
+is shocked by objections which he knows he ought to annihilate by a
+word, and yet who is fain to be resigned to waste time in useless talk,
+which he might put to great profit.
+
+"I think, Monsieur," said he, very humbly, "that the murderers at
+Valfeuillu did not use either a hammer or a chisel, or a file, and that
+they brought no instrument at all from outside--since they used a
+hammer."
+
+"And didn't they have a dirk besides?" asked the judge in a bantering
+tone, confident that he was on the right path.
+
+"That is another question, I confess; but it is a difficult one to
+answer."
+
+He began to lose patience. He turned toward the Corbeil policeman, and
+abruptly asked him:
+
+"Is this all you know?"
+
+The big man with the thick eyebrows superciliously eyed this little
+Parisian who dared to question him thus. He hesitated so long that M.
+Lecoq, more rudely than before, repeated his question.
+
+"Yes, that's all," said Goulard at last, "and I think it's sufficient;
+the judge thinks so too; and he is the only person who gives me orders,
+and whose approbation I wish for."
+
+M. Lecoq shrugged his shoulders, and proceeded:
+
+"Let's see; did you ask what was the shape of the dirk bought by
+Guespin? Was it long or short, wide or narrow?"
+
+"Faith, no. What was the use?"
+
+"Simply, my brave fellow, to compare this weapon with the victim's
+wounds, and to see whether its handle corresponds to that which left a
+distinct and visible imprint between the victim's shoulders."
+
+"I forgot it; but it is easily remedied."
+
+"An oversight may, of course, be pardoned; but you can at least tell us
+in what sort of money Guespin paid for his purchases?"
+
+The poor man seemed so embarrassed, humiliated, and vexed, that the
+judge hastened to his assistance.
+
+"The money is of little consequence, it seems to me," said he.
+
+"I beg you to excuse me I don't agree with you," returned M. Lecoq.
+"This matter may be a very grave one. What is the most serious evidence
+against Guespin? The money found in his pocket. Let us suppose for a
+moment that night before last, at ten o'clock, he changed a
+one-thousand-franc note in Paris. Could the obtaining of that note have
+been the motive of the crime at Valfeuillu? No, for up to that hour the
+crime had not been committed. Where could it have come from? That is no
+concern of mine, at present. But if my theory is correct, justice will
+be forced to agree that the several hundred francs found in Guespin's
+possession can and must be the change for the note."
+
+"That is only a theory," urged M. Domini in an irritated tone.
+
+"That is true; but one which may turn out a certainty. It remains for me
+to ask this man how Guespin carried away the articles which he bought?
+Did he simply slip them into his pocket, or did he have them done up in
+a bundle, and if so, how?"
+
+The detective spoke in a sharp, hard, freezing tone, with a bitter
+raillery in it, frightening his Corbeil colleague out of his assurance.
+
+"I don't know," stammered the latter. "They didn't tell me--I thought--"
+
+M. Lecoq raised his hands as if to call the heavens to witness: in his
+heart, he was charmed with this fine occasion to revenge himself for M.
+Domini's disdain. He could not, dared not say anything to the judge; but
+he had the right to banter the agent and visit his wrath upon him.
+
+"Ah so, my lad," said he, "what did you go to Paris for? To show
+Guespin's picture and detail the crime to the people at Vulcan's Forges?
+They ought to be very grateful to you; but Madame Petit, Monsieur
+Plantat's housekeeper, would have done as much."
+
+At this stroke the man began to get angry; he frowned, and in his
+bluffest tone, began:
+
+"Look here now, you--"
+
+"Ta, ta, ta," interrupted M. Lecoq. "Let me alone, and know who is
+talking to you. I am Monsieur Lecoq."
+
+The effect of the famous detective's name on his antagonist was magical.
+He naturally laid down his arms and surrendered, straightway becoming
+respectful and obsequious. It almost flattered him to be roughly handled
+by such a celebrity. He muttered, in an abashed and admiring tone:
+
+"What, is it possible? You, Monsieur Lecoq!"
+
+"Yes, it is I, young man; but console yourself; I bear no grudge against
+you. You don't know your trade, but you have done me a service and you
+have brought us a convincing proof of Guespin's innocence."
+
+M. Domini looked on at this scene with secret chagrin. His recruit went
+over to the enemy, yielding without a struggle to a confessed
+superiority. M. Lecoq's presumption, in speaking of a prisoner's
+innocence whose guilt seemed to the judge indisputable, exasperated him.
+
+"And what is this tremendous proof, if you please?" asked he.
+
+"It is simple and striking," answered M. Lecoq, putting on his most
+frivolous air as his conclusions narrowed the field of probabilities.
+
+"You doubtless recollect that when we were at Valfeuillu we found the
+hands of the clock in the bedroom stopped at twenty minutes past three.
+Distrusting foul play, I put the striking apparatus in motion--do you
+recall it? What happened? The clock struck eleven. That convinced us
+that the crime was committed before that hour. But don't you see that if
+Guespin was at the Vulcan's Forges at ten he could not have got back to
+Valfeuillu before midnight? Therefore it was not--he who did the deed."
+
+The detective, as he came to this conclusion, pulled out the inevitable
+box and helped himself to a lozenge, at the same time bestowing upon the
+judge a smile which said:
+
+"Get out of that, if you can."
+
+The judge's whole theory tumbled to pieces if M. Lecoq's deductions were
+right; but he could not admit that he had been so much deceived; he
+could not renounce an opinion formed by deliberate reflection.
+
+"I don't pretend that Guespin is the only criminal," said he. "He could
+only have been an accomplice; and that he was."
+
+"An accomplice? No, Judge, he was a victim. Ah, Tremorel is a great
+rascal! Don't you see now why he put forward the hands? At first I
+didn't perceive the object of advancing the time five hours; now it is
+clear. In order to implicate Guespin the crime must appear to have been
+committed after midnight, and--"
+
+He suddenly checked himself and stopped with open mouth and fixed eyes
+as a new idea crossed his mind. The judge, who was bending over his
+papers trying to find something to sustain his position, did not
+perceive this.
+
+"But then," said the latter, "how do you explain Guespin's refusal to
+speak and to give an account of where he spent the night?"
+
+M. Lecoq had now recovered from his emotion, and Dr. Gendron and M.
+Plantat, who were watching him with the deepest attention, saw a
+triumphant light in his eyes. Doubtless he had just found a solution of
+the problem which had been put to him.
+
+"I understand," replied he, "and can explain Guespin's obstinate
+silence. I should be perfectly amazed if he decided to speak just now."
+
+M. Domini misconstrued the meaning of this; he thought he saw in it a
+covert intention to banter him.
+
+"He has had a night to reflect upon it," he answered. "Is not twelve
+hours enough to mature a system of defence?"
+
+The detective shook his head doubtfully.
+
+"It is certain that he does not need it," said he. "Our prisoner doesn't
+trouble himself about a system of defence, that I'll swear to."
+
+"He keeps quiet, because he hasn't been able to get up a plausible
+story."
+
+"No, no; believe me, he isn't trying to get up one. In my opinion,
+Guespin is a victim; that is, I suspect Tremorel of having set an
+infamous trap for him, into which he has fallen, and in which he sees
+himself so completely caught that he thinks it useless to struggle. The
+poor wretch is convinced that the more he resists the more surely he
+will tighten the web that is woven around him."
+
+"I think so, too," said M. Plantat.
+
+"The true criminal, Count Hector," resumed the detective, "lost his
+presence of mind at the last moment, and thus lost all the advantages
+which his previous caution had gained. Don't let us forget that he is an
+able man, perfidious enough to mature the most infamous stratagems, and
+unscrupulous enough to execute them. He knows that justice must have its
+victims, one for every crime; he does not forget that the police, as
+long as it has not the criminal, is always on the search with eye and
+ear open; and he has thrown us Guespin as a huntsman, closely pressed,
+throws his glove to the bear that is close upon him. Perhaps he thought
+that the innocent man would not be in danger of his life; at all events
+he hoped to gain time by this ruse; while the bear is smelling and
+turning over the glove, the huntsman gains ground, escapes and reaches
+his place of refuge; that was what Tremorel proposed to do."
+
+The Corbeil policeman was now undoubtedly Lecoq's most enthusiastic
+listener. Goulard literally drank in his chief's words. He had never
+heard any of his colleagues express themselves with such fervor and
+authority; he had had no idea of such eloquence, and he stood erect, as
+if some of the admiration which he saw in all the faces were reflected
+back on him. He grew in his own esteem as he thought that he was a
+soldier in an army commanded by such generals. He had no longer any
+opinion excepting that of his superior. It was not so easy to persuade,
+subjugate, and convince the judge.
+
+"But," objected the latter, "you saw Guespin's countenance?"
+
+"Ah, what matters the countenance--what does that prove? Don't we know
+if you and I were arrested to-morrow on a terrible charge, what our
+bearing would be?"
+
+M. Domini gave a significant start; this hypothesis scarcely pleased
+him.
+
+"And yet you and I are familiar with the machinery of justice. When I
+arrested Lanscot, the poor servant in the Rue Marignan, his first words
+were: 'Come on, my account is good.' The morning that Papa Tabaret and I
+took the Viscount de Commarin as he was getting out of bed, on the
+accusation of having murdered the widow Lerouge, he cried: 'I am lost.'
+Yet neither of them were guilty; but both of them, the viscount and the
+valet, equal before the terror of a possible mistake of justice, and
+running over in their thoughts the charges which would be brought
+against them, had a moment of overwhelming discouragement."
+
+"But such discouragement does not last two days," said M. Domini.
+
+M. Lecoq did not answer this; he went on, growing more animated as he
+proceeded.
+
+"You and I have seen enough prisoners to know how deceitful appearances
+are, and how little they are to be trusted. It would be foolish to base
+a theory upon a prisoner's bearing. He who talked about 'the cry of
+innocence' was an idiot, just as the man was who prated about the 'pale
+stupor' of guilt. Neither crime nor virtue have, unhappily, any especial
+countenance. The Simon girl, who was accused of having killed her
+father, absolutely refused to answer any questions for twenty-two days;
+on the twenty-third, the murderer was caught. As to the Sylvain
+affair--"
+
+M. Domini rapped lightly on his desk to check the detective. As a man,
+the judge held too obstinately to his opinions; as a magistrate he was
+equally obstinate, but was at the same time ready to make any sacrifice
+of his self-esteem if the voice of duty prompted it. M. Lecoq's
+arguments had not shaken his convictions, but they imposed on him the
+duty of informing himself at once, and to either conquer the detective
+or avow himself conquered.
+
+"You seem to be pleading," said he to M. Lecoq. "There is no need of
+that here. We are not counsel and judge; the same honorable intentions
+animate us both. Each, in his sphere, is searching after the truth. You
+think you see it shining where I only discern clouds; and you may be
+mistaken as well as I."
+
+Then by an act of heroism, he condescended to add:
+
+"What do you think I ought to do?"
+
+The judge was at least rewarded for the effort he made by approving
+glances from M. Plantat and the doctor. But M. Lecoq did not hasten to
+respond; he had many weighty reasons to advance; that, he saw, was not
+what was necessary. He ought to present the facts, there and at once,
+and produce one of those proofs which can be touched with the finger.
+How should he do it? His active mind searched eagerly for such a proof.
+
+"Well?" insisted M. Domini.
+
+"Ah," cried the detective. "Why can't I ask Guespin two or three
+questions?"
+
+The judge frowned; the suggestion seemed to him rather presumptuous. It
+is formally laid down that the questioning of the accused should be done
+in secret, and by the judge alone, aided by his clerk. On the other hand
+it is decided, that after he has once been interrogated he may be
+confronted with witnesses. There are, besides, exceptions in favor of
+the members of the police force. M. Domini reflected whether there were
+any precedents to apply to the case.
+
+"I don't know," he answered at last, "to what point the law permits me
+to consent to what you ask. However, as I am convinced the interests of
+truth outweigh all rules, I shall take it on myself to let you question
+Guespin."
+
+He rang; a bailiff appeared.
+
+"Has Guespin been carried back to prison?"
+
+"Not yet, Monsieur."
+
+"So much the better; have him brought in here."
+
+M. Lecoq was beside himself with joy; he had not hoped to achieve such a
+victory over one so determined as M. Domini.
+
+"He will speak now," said he, so full of confidence that his eyes shone,
+and he forgot the portrait of the dear defunct, "for I have three means
+of unloosening his tongue, one of which is sure to succeed. But before
+he comes I should like to know one thing. Do you know whether Tremorel
+saw Jenny after Sauvresy's death?"
+
+"Jenny?" asked M. Plantat, a little surprised.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Certainly he did."
+
+"Several times?"
+
+"Pretty often. After the scene at the Belle Image the poor girl plunged
+into terrible dissipation. Whether she was smitten with remorse, or
+understood that it was her conduct which had killed Sauvresy, or
+suspected the crime, I don't know. She began, however, to drink
+furiously, falling lower and lower every week--"
+
+"And the count really consented to see her again?"
+
+"He was forced to do so; she tormented him, and he was afraid of her.
+When she had spent all her money she sent to him for more, and he gave
+it. Once he refused; and that very evening she went to him the worse for
+wine, and he had the greatest difficulty in the world to send her away
+again. In short, she knew what his relations with Madame Sauvresy had
+been, and she threatened him; it was a regular black-mailing operation.
+He told me all about the trouble she gave him, and added that he would
+not be able to get rid of her without shutting her up, which he could
+not bring himself to do."
+
+"How long ago was their last interview?"
+
+"Why," answered the doctor, "not three weeks ago, when I had a
+consultation at Melun, I saw the count and this demoiselle at a hotel
+window; when he saw me he suddenly drew back."
+
+"Then," said the detective, "there is no longer any doubt--"
+
+He stopped. Guespin came in between two gendarmes.
+
+The unhappy gardener had aged twenty years in twenty-four hours. His
+eyes were haggard, his dry lips were bordered with foam.
+
+"Let us see," said the judge. "Have you changed your mind about
+speaking?"
+
+The prisoner did not answer.
+
+"Have you decided to tell us about yourself?"
+
+Guespin's rage made him tremble from head to foot, and his eyes became
+fiery.
+
+"Speak!" said he hoarsely. "Why should I?"
+
+He added with the gesture of a desperate man who abandons himself,
+renounces all struggling and all hope:
+
+"What have I done to you, my God, that you torture me this way? What do
+you want me to say? That I did this crime--is that what you want? Well,
+then--yes--it was I. Now you are satisfied. Now cut my head off, and do
+it quick--for I don't want to suffer any longer."
+
+A mournful silence welcomed Guespin's declaration. What, he confessed
+it!
+
+M. Domini had at least the good taste not to exult; he kept still, and
+yet this avowal surprised him beyond all expression.
+
+M. Lecoq alone, although surprised, was not absolutely put out of
+countenance. He approached Guespin and tapping him on the shoulder, said
+in a paternal tone:
+
+"Come, comrade, what you are telling us is absurd. Do you think the
+judge has any secret grudge against you? No, eh? Do you suppose I am
+interested to have you guillotined? Not at all. A crime has been
+committed, and we are trying to find the assassin. If you are innocent,
+help us to find the man who isn't: What were you doing from Wednesday
+evening till Thursday morning?"
+
+But Guespin persisted in his ferocious and stupid obstinacy.
+
+"I've said what I have to say," said he.
+
+M. Lecoq changed his tone to one of severity, stepping back to watch the
+effect he was about to produce upon Guespin.
+
+"You haven't any right to hold your tongue. And even if you do, you
+fool, the police know everything. Your master sent you on an errand,
+didn't he, on Wednesday night; what did he give you? A
+one-thousand-franc note?"
+
+The prisoner looked at M. Lecoq in speechless amazement.
+
+"No," he stammered. "It was a five-hundred-franc note."
+
+The detective, like all great artists in a critical scene, was really
+moved. His surprising genius for investigation had just inspired him
+with a bold stroke, which, if it succeeded, would assure him the
+victory.
+
+"Now," said he, "tell me the woman's name."
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"You are only a fool then. She is short, isn't she, quite pretty, brown
+and pale, with very large eyes?"
+
+"You know her, then?" said Guespin, in a voice trembling with emotion.
+
+"Yes, comrade, and if you want to know her name, to put in your prayers,
+she is called--Jenny."
+
+Men who are really able in some specialty, whatever it may be, never
+uselessly abuse their superiority; their satisfaction at seeing it
+recognized is sufficient reward. M. Lecoq softly enjoyed his triumph,
+while his hearers wondered at his perspicacity. A rapid chain of
+reasoning had shown him not only Tremorel's thoughts, but also the means
+he had employed to accomplish his purpose.
+
+Guespin's astonishment soon changed to anger. He asked himself how this
+man could have been informed of things which he had every reason to
+believe were secret. Lecoq continued:
+
+"Since I have told you the woman's name, tell me now, how and why the
+count gave you a five-hundred-franc note."
+
+"It was just as I was going out. The count had no change, and did not
+want to send me to Orcival for it. I was to bring back the rest."
+
+"And why didn't you rejoin your companions at the wedding in the
+Batignolles?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"What was the errand which you were to do for the count?"
+
+Guespin hesitated. His eyes wandered from one to another of those
+present, and he seemed to discover an ironical expression on all the
+faces. It occurred to him that they were making sport of him, and had
+set a snare into which he had fallen. A great despair took possession of
+him.
+
+"Ah," cried he, addressing M. Lecoq, "you have deceived me. You have
+been lying so as to find out the truth. I have been such a fool as to
+answer you, and you are going to turn it all against me."
+
+"What? Are you going to talk nonsense again?"
+
+"No, but I see just how it is, and you won't catch me again! Now I'd
+rather die than say a word."
+
+The detective tried to reassure him; but he added:
+
+"Besides, I'm as sly as you; I've told you nothing but lies."
+
+This sudden whim surprised no one. Some prisoners intrench themselves
+behind a system of defence, and nothing can divert them from it; others
+vary with each new question, denying what they have just affirmed, and
+constantly inventing some new absurdity which anon they reject again. M.
+Lecoq tried in vain to draw Guespin from his silence; M. Domini made the
+same attempt, and also failed; to all questions he only answered, "I
+don't know."
+
+At last the detective waxed impatient.
+
+"See here," said he to Guespin, "I took you for a young man of sense,
+and you are only an ass. Do you imagine that we don't know anything?
+Listen: On the night of Madame Denis's wedding, you were getting ready
+to go off with your comrades, and had just borrowed twenty francs from
+the valet, when the count called you. He made you promise absolute
+secrecy (a promise which, to do you justice, you kept); he told you to
+leave the other servants at the station and go to Vulcan's Forges, where
+you were to buy for him a hammer, a file, a chisel, and a dirk; these
+you were to carry to a certain woman. Then he gave you this famous
+five-hundred-franc note, telling you to bring him back the change when
+you returned next day. Isn't that so?"
+
+An affirmative response glistened in the prisoner's eyes; still, he
+answered, "I don't recollect it."
+
+"Now," pursued M. Lecoq, "I'm going to tell you what happened
+afterwards. You drank something and got tipsy, and in short spent a part
+of the change of the note. That explains your fright when you were
+seized yesterday morning, before anybody said a word to you. You thought
+you were being arrested for spending that money. Then, when you learned
+that the count had been murdered during the night, recollecting that on
+the evening before you had bought all kinds of instruments of theft and
+murder, and that you didn't know either the address or the name of the
+woman to whom you gave up the package, convinced that if you explained
+the source of the money found in your pocket, you would not be
+believed--then, instead of thinking of the means to prove your
+innocence, you became afraid, and thought you would save yourself by
+holding your tongue."
+
+The prisoner's countenance visibly changed; his nerves relaxed; his
+tight lips fell apart; his mind opened itself to hope. But he still
+resisted.
+
+"Do with me as you like," said he.
+
+"Eh! What should we do with such a fool as you?" cried M. Lecoq angrily.
+"I begin to think you are a rascal too. A decent fellow would see that
+we wanted to get him out of a scrape, and he'd tell us the truth. You
+are prolonging your imprisonment by your own will. You'd better learn
+that the greatest shrewdness consists in telling the truth. A last time,
+will you answer?"
+
+Guespin shook his head; no.
+
+"Go back to prison, then; since it pleases you," concluded the
+detective. He looked at the judge for his approval, and added:
+
+"Gendarmes, remove the prisoner."
+
+The judge's last doubt was dissipated like the mist before the sun. He
+was, to tell the truth, a little uneasy at having treated the detective
+so rudely; and he tried to repair it as much as he could.
+
+"You are an able man, Monsieur Lecoq," said he. "Without speaking of
+your clearsightedness, which is so prompt as to seem almost like second
+sight, your examination just now was a master-piece of its kind. Receive
+my congratulations, to say nothing of the reward which I propose to
+recommend in your favor to your chiefs."
+
+The detective at these compliments cast down his eyes with the abashed
+air of a virgin. He looked tenderly at the dear defunct's portrait, and
+doubtless said to it:
+
+"At last, darling, we have defeated him--this austere judge who so
+heartily detests the force of which we are the brightest ornament, makes
+his apologies; he recognizes and applauds our services."
+
+He answered aloud:
+
+"I can only accept half of your eulogies, Monsieur; permit me to offer
+the other half to my friend Monsieur Plantat."
+
+M. Plantat tried to protest.
+
+"Oh," said he, "only for some bits of information! You would have
+ferreted out the truth without me all the same."
+
+The judge arose and graciously, but not without effort, extended his
+hand to M. Lecoq, who respectfully pressed it.
+
+"You have spared me," said the judge, "a great remorse. Guespin's
+innocence would surely sooner or later have been recognized; but the
+idea of having imprisoned an innocent man and harassed him with my
+interrogatories, would have disturbed my sleep and tormented my
+conscience for a long time."
+
+"God knows this poor Guespin is not an interesting youth," returned the
+detective. "I should be disposed to press him hard were I not certain
+that he's half a fool."
+
+M. Domini gave a start.
+
+"I shall discharge him this very day," said he, "this very hour."
+
+"It will be an act of charity," said M. Lecoq; "but confound his
+obstinacy; it was so easy for him to simplify my task. I might be able,
+by the aid of chance, to collect the principal facts--the errand, and a
+woman being mixed up in the affair; but as I'm no magician, I couldn't
+guess all the details. How is Jenny mixed up in this affair? Is she an
+accomplice, or has she only been made to play an ignorant part in it?
+Where did she meet Guespin and whither did she lead him? It is clear
+that she made the poor fellow tipsy so as to prevent his going to the
+Batignolles. Tremorel must have told her some false story--but what?"
+
+"I don't think Tremorel troubled his head about so small a matter," said
+M. Plantat. "He gave Guespin and Jenny some task, without explaining it
+at all."
+
+M. Lecoq reflected a moment.
+
+"Perhaps you are right. But Jenny must have had special orders to
+prevent Guespin from putting in an alibi."
+
+"But," said M. Domini, "Jenny will explain it all to us."
+
+"That is what I rely on; and I hope that within forty-eight hours I
+shall have found her and brought her safely to Corbeil."
+
+He rose at these words, took his cane and hat, and turning to the judge,
+said:
+
+"Before retiring--"
+
+"Yes, I know," interrupted M. Domini, "you want a warrant to arrest
+Hector de Tremorel."
+
+"I do, as you are now of my opinion that he is still alive."
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+M. Domini opened his portfolio and wrote off a warrant as follows:
+
+"By the law: "We, judge of instruction of the first tribunal, etc.,
+considering articles 91 and 94 of the code of criminal instruction,
+command and ordain to all the agents of the police to arrest, in
+conformity with the law, one Hector de Tremorel, etc."
+
+When he had finished, he said:
+
+"Here it is, and may you succeed in speedily finding this great
+criminal."
+
+"Oh, he'll find him," cried the Corbeil policeman.
+
+"I hope so, at least. As to how I shall go to work, I don't know yet. I
+will arrange my plan of battle to-night."
+
+The detective then took leave of M. Domini and retired, followed by M.
+Plantat. The doctor remained with the judge to make arrangements for
+Sauvresy's exhumation.
+
+M. Lecoq was just leaving the court-house when he felt himself pulled by
+the arm. He turned and found that it was Goulard who came to beg his
+favor and to ask him to take him along, persuaded that after having
+served under so great a captain he must inevitably become a famous man
+himself. M. Lecoq had some difficulty in getting rid of him; but he at
+length found himself alone in the street with the old justice of the
+peace.
+
+"It is late," said the latter. "Would it be agreeable to you to partake
+of another modest dinner with me, and accept my cordial hospitality?"
+
+"I am chagrined to be obliged to refuse you," replied M. Lecoq. "But I
+ought to be in Paris this evening."
+
+"But I--in fact, I--was very anxious to talk to you--about--"
+
+"About Mademoiselle Laurence?"
+
+"Yes; I have a plan, and if you would help me--"
+
+M. Lecoq affectionately pressed his friend's hand.
+
+"I have only known you a few hours," said he, "and yet I am as devoted
+to you as I would be to an old friend. All that is humanly possible for
+me to do to serve you, I shall certainly do."
+
+"But where shall I see you? They expect me to-day at Orcival."
+
+"Very well; to-morrow morning at nine, at my rooms. No--Rue Montmartre."
+
+"A thousand thanks; I shall be there."
+
+When they had reached the Belle Image they separated.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+
+Nine o'clock had just struck in the belfry of the church of St.
+Eustache, when M. Plantat reached Rue Montmartre, and entered the house
+bearing the number which M. Lecoq had given him.
+
+"Monsieur Lecoq?" said he to an old woman who was engaged in getting
+breakfast for three large cats which were mewing around her. The woman
+scanned him with a surprised and suspicious air. M. Plantat, when he was
+dressed up, had much more the appearance of a fine old gentleman than of
+a country attorney; and though the detective received many visits from
+all sorts of people, it was rarely that the denizens of the Faubourg
+Saint Germaine rung his bell.
+
+"Monsieur Lecoq's apartments," answered the old woman, "are on the third
+story, the door facing the stairs."
+
+The justice of the peace slowly ascended the narrow, ill-lighted
+staircase, which in its dark corners was almost dangerous. He was
+thinking of the strange step he was about to take. An idea had occurred
+to him, but he did not know whether it were practicable, and at all
+events he needed the aid and advice of the detective. He was forced to
+disclose his most secret thoughts, as it were, to confess himself; and
+his heart beat fast. The door opposite the staircase on the third story
+was not like other doors; it was of plain oak, thick, without mouldings,
+and fastened with iron bars. It would have looked like a prison door had
+not its sombreness been lightened by a heavily colored engraving of a
+cock crowing, with the legend "Always Vigilant." Had the detective put
+his coat of arms up there? Was it not more likely that one of his men
+had done it? After examining the door more than a minute, and hesitating
+like a youth before his beloved's gate, he rang the bell. A creaking of
+locks responded, and through the narrow bars of the peephole he saw the
+hairy face of an old crone.
+
+"What do you want?" said the woman, in a deep, bass voice.
+
+"Monsieur Lecoq."
+
+"What do you want of him?"
+
+"He made an appointment with me for this morning."
+
+"Your name and business?"
+
+"Monsieur Plantat, justice of the peace at Orcival."
+
+"All right. Wait."
+
+The peephole was closed and the old man waited.
+
+"Peste!" growled he. "Everybody can't get in here, it seems." Hardly had
+this reflection passed through his mind when the door opened with a
+noise as of chains and locks. He entered, and the old crone, after
+leading him through a dining-room whose sole furniture was a table and
+six chairs, introduced him to a large room, half toilet-room and half
+working-room, lighted by two windows looking on the court, and guarded
+by strong, close bars.
+
+"If you will take the trouble to sit," said the servant, "Monsieur Lecoq
+will soon be here; he is giving orders to one of his men."
+
+But M. Plantat did not take a seat; he preferred to examine the curious
+apartment in which he found himself. The whole of one side of the wall
+was taken up with a long rack, where hung the strangest and most
+incongruous suits of clothes. There were costumes belonging to all
+grades of society; and on some wooden pegs above, wigs of all colors
+were hanging; while boots and shoes of various styles were ranged on the
+floor. A toilet-table, covered with powders, essences, and paints, stood
+between the fireplace and the window. On the other side of the room was
+a bookcase full of scientific works, especially of physic and chemistry.
+The most singular piece of furniture in the apartment, however, was a
+large ball, shaped like a lozenge, in black velvet, suspended beside the
+looking-glass. A quantity of pins were stuck in this ball, so as to form
+the letters composing these two names: HECTOR-JENNY.
+
+These names glittering on the black background attracted the old man's
+attention at once. This must have been M. Lecoq's reminder. The ball was
+meant to recall to him perpetually the people of whom he was in pursuit.
+Many names, doubtless, had in turn glittered on that velvet, for it was
+much frayed and perforated. An unfinished letter lay open upon the
+bureau.
+
+M. Plantat leaned over to read it; but he took his trouble for nothing,
+for it was written in cipher.
+
+He had no sooner finished his inspection of the room than the noise of a
+door opening made him turn round. He saw before him a man of his own
+age, of respectable mien, and polite manners, a little bald, with gold
+spectacles and a light-colored flannel dressing-gown.
+
+M. Plantat bowed, saying:
+
+"I am waiting here for Monsieur Lecoq."
+
+The man in gold spectacles burst out laughing, and clapped his hands
+with glee.
+
+"What, dear sir," said he, "don't you know me? Look at me well--it is
+I--Monsieur Lecoq!" And to convince him, he took off his spectacles.
+Those might, indeed, be Lecoq's eyes, and that his voice; M. Plantat was
+confounded.
+
+"I never should have recognized you," said he.
+
+"It's true, I have changed a little--but what would you have? It's my
+trade."
+
+And pushing a chair toward his visitor, he pursued:
+
+"I have to beg a thousand pardons for the formalities you've had to
+endure to get in here; it's a dire necessity, but one I can't help. I
+have told you of the dangers to which I am exposed; they pursue me to my
+very door. Why, last week a railway porter brought a package here
+addressed to me. Janouille--that's my old woman--suspected nothing,
+though she has a sharp nose, and told him to come in. He held out the
+package, I went up to take it, when pif! paf! off went two pistol-shots.
+The package was a revolver wrapped up in oilcloth, and the porter was a
+convict escaped from Cayenne, caught by me last year. Ah, I put him
+through for this though!"
+
+He told this adventure carelessly, as if it were the most natural thing
+in the world.
+
+"But let's not starve ourselves to death," he continued, ringing the
+bell. The old hag appeared, and he ordered her to bring on breakfast
+forthwith, and above all, some good wine.
+
+"You are observing my Janouille," remarked he, seeing that M. Plantat
+looked curiously at the servant. "She's a pearl, my dear friend, who
+watches over me as if I were her child, and would go through the fire
+for me. I had a good deal of trouble the other day to prevent her
+strangling the false railway porter. I picked her out of three or four
+thousand convicts. She had been convicted of infanticide and arson. I
+would bet a hundred to one that, during the three years that she has
+been in my service, she has not even thought of robbing me of so much as
+a centime."
+
+But M. Plantat only listened to him with one ear; he was trying to find
+an excuse for cutting Janouille's story short, and to lead the
+conversation to the events of the day before.
+
+"I have, perhaps, incommoded you a little this morning, Monsieur Lecoq?"
+
+"Me? then you did not see my motto--'always vigilant?' Why, I've been
+out ten times this morning; besides marking out work for three of my
+men. Ah, we have little time to ourselves, I can tell you. I went to the
+Vulcan's Forges to see what news I could get of that poor devil of a
+Guespin."
+
+"And what did you hear?"
+
+"That I had guessed right. He changed a five-hundred-franc note there
+last Wednesday evening at a quarter before ten."
+
+"That is to say, he is saved?"
+
+"Well, you may say so. He will be, as soon as we have found Miss Jenny."
+
+The old justice of the peace could not avoid showing his uneasiness.
+
+"That will, perhaps, be long and difficult?"
+
+"Bast! Why so? She is on my black ball there--we shall have her,
+accidents excepted, before night."
+
+"You really think so?"
+
+"I should say I was sure, to anybody but you. Reflect that this girl has
+been connected with the Count de Tremorel, a man of the world, a prince
+of the mode. When a girl falls to the gutter, after having, as they say,
+dazzled all Paris for six months with her luxury, she does not disappear
+entirely, like a stone in the mud. When she has lost all her friends
+there are still her creditors, who follow and watch her, awaiting the
+day when fortune will smile on her once more. She doesn't trouble
+herself about them, she thinks they've forgotten her; a mistake! I know
+a milliner whose head is a perfect dictionary of the fashionable world;
+she has often done me a good turn. We will go and see her if you say so,
+after breakfast, and in two hours she will give us Jenny's address. Ah,
+if I were only as sure of pinching Tremorel!"
+
+M. Plantat gave a sigh of relief. The conversation at last took the turn
+he wished.
+
+"You are thinking of him, then?" asked he.
+
+"Am I?" shouted M. Lecoq, who started from his seat at the question.
+"Now just look at my black ball there. I haven't thought of anybody
+else, mark you, since yesterday; I haven't had a wink of sleep all night
+for thinking of him. I must have him, and I will!"
+
+"I don't doubt it; but when?"
+
+"Ah, there it is! Perhaps to-morrow, perhaps in a month; it depends on
+the correctness of my calculations and the exactness of my plan."
+
+"What, is your plan made?"
+
+"And decided on."
+
+M. Plantat became attention itself.
+
+"I start from the principle that it is impossible for a man, accompanied
+by a woman, to hide from the police. In this case, the woman is young,
+pretty, and in a noticeable condition; three impossibilities more. Admit
+this, and we'll study Hector's character. He isn't a man of superior
+shrewdness, for we have found out all his dodges. He isn't a fool,
+because his dodges deceived people who are by no means fools. He is then
+a medium sort of a man, and his education, reading, relations, and daily
+conversation have procured him a number of acquaintances whom he will
+try to use. Now for his mind. We know the weakness of his character;
+soft, feeble, vacillating, only acting in the last extremity. We have
+seen him shrinking from decisive steps, trying always to delay matters.
+He is given to being deceived by illusions, and to taking his desires
+for accomplished events. In short, he is a coward. And what is his
+situation? He has killed his wife, he hopes he has created a belief in
+his own death, he has eloped with a young girl, and he has got nearly or
+quite a million of francs in his pocket. Now, this position admitted, as
+well as the man's character and mind, can we by an effort of thought,
+reasoning from his known actions, discover what he has done in such and
+such a case? I think so, and I hope I shall prove it to you."
+
+M. Lecoq rose and promenaded, as his habit was, up and down the room.
+"Now let's see," he continued, "how I ought to proceed in order to
+discover the probable conduct of a man whose antecedents, traits, and
+mind are known to me. To begin with, I throw off my own individuality
+and try to assume his. I substitute his will for my own. I cease to be a
+detective and become this man, whatever he is. In this case, for
+instance, I know very well what I should do if I were Tremorel. I should
+take such measures as would throw all the detectives in the universe off
+the scent. But I must forget Monsieur Lecoq in order to become Hector de
+Tremorel. How would a man reason who was base enough to rob his friend
+of his wife, and then see her poison her husband before his very eyes?
+We already know that Tremorel hesitated a good while before deciding to
+commit this crime. The logic of events, which fools call fatality, urged
+him on. It is certain that he looked upon the murder in every point of
+view, studied its results, and tried to find means to escape from
+justice. All his acts were determined on long beforehand, and neither
+immediate necessity nor unforeseen circumstances disturbed his mind. The
+moment he had decided on the crime, he said to himself: 'Grant that
+Bertha has been murdered; thanks to my precautions, they think that I
+have been killed too; Laurence, with whom I elope, writes a letter in
+which she announces her suicide; I have money, what must I do?' The
+problem, it seems to me, is fairly put in this way."
+
+"Perfectly so," approved M. Plantat.
+
+"Naturally, Tremorel would choose from among all the methods of flight
+of which he had ever heard, or which he could imagine, that which seemed
+to him the surest and most prompt. Did he meditate leaving the country?
+That is more than probable. Only, as he was not quite out of his senses,
+he saw that it was most difficult, in a foreign country, to put justice
+off the track. If a man flies from France to escape punishment, he acts
+absurdly. Fancy a man and woman wandering about a country of whose
+language they are ignorant; they attract attention at once, are
+observed, talked about, followed. They do not make a purchase which is
+not remarked; they cannot make any movement without exciting curiosity.
+The further they go the greater their danger. If they choose to cross
+the ocean and go to free America, they must go aboard a vessel; and the
+moment they do that they may be considered as good as lost. You might
+bet twenty to one they would find, on landing on the other side, a
+detective on the pier armed with a warrant to arrest them. I would
+engage to find a Frenchman in eight days, even in London, unless he
+spoke pure enough English to pass for a citizen of the United Kingdom.
+Such were Tremorel's reflections. He recollected a thousand futile
+attempts, a hundred surprising adventures, narrated by the papers; and
+it is certain that he gave up the idea of going abroad."
+
+"It's clear," cried M. Plantat, "perfectly plain and precise. We must
+look for the fugitives in France."
+
+"Yes," replied M. Lecoq. "Now let's find out where and how people can
+hide themselves in France. Would it be in the provinces? Evidently not.
+In Bordeaux, one of our largest cities, people stare at a man who is not
+a Bordelais. The shopkeepers on the quays say to their neighbors: 'Eh!
+do you know that man?' There are two cities, however, where a man may
+pass unnoticed--Marseilles and Lyons; but both of these are distant, and
+to reach them a long journey must be risked--and nothing is so dangerous
+as the railway since the telegraph was established. One can fly quickly,
+it's true; but on entering a railway carriage a man shuts himself in,
+and until he gets out of it he remains under the thumb of the police.
+Tremorel knows all this as well as we do. We will put all the large
+towns, including Lyons and Marseilles, out of the question."
+
+"In short, it's impossible to hide in the provinces."
+
+"Excuse me--there is one means; that is, simply to buy a modest little
+place at a distance from towns and railways, and to go and reside on it
+under a false name. But this excellent project is quite above Tremorel's
+capacity, and requires preparatory steps which he could not risk,
+watched as he was by his wife. The field of investigation is thus much
+narrowed. Putting aside foreign parts, the provinces, the cities, the
+country, Paris remains. It is in Paris that we must look for Tremorel."
+
+M. Lecoq spoke with the certainty and positiveness of a mathematical
+professor; the old justice of the peace listened, as do the professor's
+scholars. But he was already accustomed to the detective's surprising
+clearness, and was no longer astonished. During the four-and-twenty
+hours that he had been witnessing M. Lecoq's calculations and gropings,
+he had seized the process and almost appropriated it to himself. He
+found this method of reasoning very simple, and could now explain to
+himself certain exploits of the police which had hitherto seemed to him
+miraculous. But M. Lecoq's "narrow field" of observation appeared still
+immense.
+
+"Paris is a large place," observed the old justice.
+
+M. Lecoq smiled loftily.
+
+"Perhaps so; but it is mine. All Paris is under the eye of the police,
+just as an ant is under that of the naturalist with his microscope. How
+is it, you may ask, that Paris still holds so many professional rogues?
+Ah, that is because we are hampered by legal forms. The law compels us
+to use only polite weapons against those to whom all weapons are
+serviceable. The courts tie our hands. The rogues are clever, but be
+sure that our cleverness is much greater than theirs."
+
+"But," interrupted M. Plantat, "Tremorel is now outside the law; we have
+the warrant."
+
+"What matters it? Does the warrant give me the right to search any house
+in which I may have reason to suppose he is hiding himself? No. If I
+should go to the house of one of Hector's old friends he would kick me
+out of doors. You must know that in France the police have to contend
+not only with the rogues, but also with the honest people."
+
+M. Lecoq always waxed warm on this subject; he felt a strong resentment
+against the injustice practised on his profession. Fortunately, at the
+moment when he was most excited, the black ball suddenly caught his eye.
+
+"The devil!" exclaimed he, "I was forgetting Hector."
+
+M. Plantat, though listening patiently to his companion's indignant
+utterances, could not help thinking of the murderer.
+
+"You said that we must look for Tremorel in Paris," he remarked.
+
+"And I said truly," responded M. Lecoq in a calmer tone. "I have come to
+the conclusion that here, perhaps within two streets of us, perhaps in
+the next house, the fugitives are hid. But let's go on with our
+calculation of probabilities. Hector knows Paris too well to hope to
+conceal himself even for a week in a hotel or lodging-house; he knows
+these are too sharply watched by the police. He had plenty of time
+before him, and so arranged to hire apartments in some convenient
+house."
+
+"He came to Paris three or four times some weeks ago."
+
+"Then there's no longer any doubt about it. He hired some apartments
+under a false name, paid in advance, and to-day he is comfortably
+ensconced in his new residence."
+
+M. Plantat seemed to feel extremely distressed at this.
+
+"I know it only too well, Monsieur Lecoq," said he, sadly. "You must be
+right. But is not the wretch thus securely hidden from us? Must we wait
+till some accident reveals him to us? Can you search one by one all the
+houses in Paris?"
+
+The detective's nose wriggled under his gold spectacles, and the justice
+of the peace, who observed it, and took it for a good sign, felt all his
+hopes reviving in him.
+
+"I've cudgelled my brain in vain--" he began.
+
+"Pardon me," interrupted M. Lecoq. "Having hired apartments, Tremorel
+naturally set about furnishing them."
+
+"Evidently."
+
+"Of course he would furnish them sumptuously, both because he is fond of
+luxury and has plenty of money, and because he couldn't carry a young
+girl from a luxurious home to a garret. I'd wager that they have as fine
+a drawing-room as that at Valfeuillu."
+
+"Alas! How can that help us?"
+
+"Peste! It helps us much, my dear friend, as you shall see. Hector, as
+he wished for a good deal of expensive furniture, did not have recourse
+to a broker; nor had he time to go to the Faubourg St. Antoine.
+Therefore, he simply went to an upholsterer."
+
+"Some fashionable upholsterer--"
+
+"No, he would have risked being recognized. It is clear that he assumed
+a false name, the same in which he had hired his rooms. He chose some
+shrewd and humble upholsterer, ordered his goods, made sure that they
+would be delivered on a certain day, and paid for them."
+
+M. Plantat could not repress a joyful exclamation; he began to see M.
+Lecoq's drift.
+
+"This merchant," pursued the latter, "must have retained his rich
+customer in his memory, this customer who did not beat him down, and
+paid cash. If he saw him again, he would recognize him."
+
+"What an idea!" cried M. Plantat, delighted. "Let's get photographs and
+portraits of Tremorel as quick as we can--let's send a man to Orcival
+for them."
+
+M. Lecoq smiled shrewdly and proceeded:
+
+"Keep yourself easy; I have done what was necessary. I slipped three of
+the count's cartes-de-visite in my pocket yesterday during the inquest.
+This morning I took down, out of the directory, the names of all the
+upholsterers in Paris, and made three lists of them. At this moment
+three of my men, each with a list and a photograph, are going from
+upholsterer to upholsterer showing them the picture and asking them if
+they recognize it as the portrait of one of their customers. If one of
+them answers 'yes,' we've got our man."
+
+"And we will get him!" cried the old man, pale with emotion.
+
+"Not yet; don't shout victory too soon. It is possible that Hector was
+prudent enough not to go to the upholsterer's himself. In this case we
+are beaten in that direction. But no, he was not so sly as that--"
+
+M. Lecoq checked himself. Janouille, for the third time, opened the
+door, and said, in a deep bass voice:
+
+"Breakfast is ready."
+
+Janouille was a remarkable cook; M. Plantat had ample experience of the
+fact when he began upon her dishes. But he was not hungry, and could not
+force himself to eat; he could not think of anything but a plan which he
+had to propose to his host, and he had that oppressive feeling which is
+experienced when one is about to do something which has been decided on
+with hesitation and regret. The detective, who, like all men of great
+activity, was a great eater, vainly essayed to entertain his guest, and
+filled his glass with the choicest Chateau Margaux; the old man sat
+silent and sad, and only responded by monosyllables. He tried to speak
+out and to struggle against the hesitation he felt. He did not think,
+when he came, that he should have this reluctance; he had said to
+himself that he would go in and explain himself. Did he fear to be
+ridiculed? No. His passion was above the fear of sarcasm or irony. And
+what did he risk? Nothing. Had not M. Lecoq already divined the secret
+thoughts he dared not impart to him, and read his heart from the first?
+He was reflecting thus when the door-bell rang. Janouille went to the
+door, and speedily returned with the announcement that Goulard begged to
+speak with M. Lecoq, and asked if she should admit him.
+
+"Certainly."
+
+The chains clanked and the locks scraped, and presently Goulard made his
+appearance. He had donned his best clothes, with spotless linen, and a
+very high collar. He was respectful, and stood as stiffly as a
+well-drilled grenadier before his sergeant.
+
+"What the deuce brought you here?" said M. Lecoq, sternly. "And who
+dared to give you my address?"
+
+"Monsieur," said Goulard, visibly intimidated by his reception, "please
+excuse me; I was sent by Doctor Gendron with this letter for Monsieur
+Plantat."
+
+"Oh," cried M. Plantat, "I asked the doctor, last evening, to let me
+know the result of the autopsy, and not knowing where I should put up,
+took the liberty of giving your address."
+
+M. Lecoq took the letter and handed it to his guest. "Read it, read it,"
+said the latter. "There is nothing in it to conceal."
+
+"All right; but come into the other room. Janouille, give this man some
+breakfast. Make yourself at home, Goulard, and empty a bottle to my
+health."
+
+When the door of the other room was closed, M. Lecoq broke the seal of
+the letter, and read:
+
+"MY DEAR PLANTAT:
+
+"You asked me for a word, so I scratch off a line or two which I shall
+send to our sorcerer's--"
+
+"Oh, ho," cried M. Lecoq. "Monsieur Gendron is too good, too flattering,
+really!"
+
+No matter, the compliment touched his heart. He resumed the letter:
+
+"At three this morning we exhumed poor Sauvresy's body. I certainly
+deplore the frightful circumstances of this worthy man's death as much
+as anyone; but on the other hand, I cannot help rejoicing at this
+excellent opportunity to test the efficacy of my sensitive paper--"
+
+"Confound these men of science," cried the indignant Plantat. "They are
+all alike!"
+
+"Why so? I can very well comprehend the doctor's involuntary sensations.
+Am I not ravished when I encounter a fine crime?"
+
+And without waiting for his guest's reply, he continued reading the
+letter:
+
+"The experiments promised to be all the more conclusive as aconitine is
+one of those drugs which conceal themselves most obstinately from
+analysis. I proceed thus: After heating the suspected substances in
+twice their weight of alcohol, I drop the liquid gently into a vase with
+edges a little elevated, at the bottom of which is a piece of paper on
+which I have placed my tests. If my paper retains its color, there is no
+poison; if it changes, the poison is there. In this case my paper was of
+a light yellow color, and if we were not mistaken, it ought either to
+become covered with brown spots, or completely brown. I explained this
+experiment beforehand to the judge of instruction and the experts who
+were assisting me. Ah, my friend, what a success I had! When the first
+drops of alcohol fell, the paper at once became a dark brown; your
+suspicions are thus proved to be quite correct. The substances which I
+submitted to the test were liberally saturated with aconitine. I never
+obtained more decisive results in my laboratory. I expect that my
+conclusions will be disputed in court; but I have means of verifying
+them, so that I shall surely confound all the chemists who oppose me. I
+think, my dear friend, that you will not be indifferent to the
+satisfaction I feel--"
+
+M. Plantat lost patience.
+
+"This is unheard-of!" cried he. "Incredible! Would you say, now, that
+this poison which he found in Sauvresy's body was stolen from his own
+laboratory? Why, that body is nothing more to him than 'suspected
+matter!' And he already imagines himself discussing the merits of his
+sensitive paper in court!"
+
+"He has reason to look for antagonists in court."
+
+"And meanwhile he makes his experiments, and analyzes with the coolest
+blood in the world; he continues his abominable cooking, boiling and
+filtering, and preparing his arguments--!"
+
+M. Lecoq did not share in his friend's indignation; he was not sorry at
+the prospect of a bitter struggle in court, and he imagined a great
+scientific duel, like that between Orfila and Raspail, the provincial
+and Parisian chemists.
+
+"If Tremorel has the face to deny his part in Sauvresy's murder," said
+he, "we shall have a superb trial of it."
+
+This word "trial" put an end to M. Plantat's long hesitation.
+
+"We mustn't have any trial," cried he.
+
+The old man's violence, from one who was usually so calm and
+self-possessed, seemed to amaze M. Lecoq.
+
+"Ah ha," thought he, "I'm going to know all." He added aloud:
+
+"What, no trial?"
+
+M. Plantat had turned whiter than a sheet; he was trembling, and his
+voice was hoarse, as if broken by sobs.
+
+"I would give my fortune," resumed he "to avoid a trial--every centime
+of it, though it doesn't amount to much. But how can we secure this
+wretch Tremorel from a conviction? What subterfuge shall we invent? You
+alone, my friend, can advise me in the frightful extremity to which you
+see me reduced, and aid me to accomplish what I wish. If there is any
+way in the world, you will find it and save me--"
+
+"But, my--"
+
+"Pardon--hear me, and you will comprehend me. I am going to be frank
+with you, as I would be with myself; and you will see the reason of my
+hesitation, my silence, in short, of all my conduct since the discovery
+of the crime."
+
+"I am listening."
+
+"It's a sad history, Lecoq. I had reached an age at which a man's career
+is, as they say, finished, when I suddenly lost my wife and my two sons,
+my whole joy, my whole hope in this world. I found myself alone in life,
+more lost than the shipwrecked man in the midst of the sea, without a
+plank to sustain me. I was a soulless body, when chance brought me to
+settle down at Orcival. There I saw Laurence; she was just fifteen, and
+never lived there a creature who united in herself so much intelligence,
+grace, innocence, and beauty. Courtois became my friend, and soon
+Laurence was like a daughter to me. I doubtless loved her then, but I
+did not confess it to myself, for I did not read my heart clearly. She
+was so young, and I had gray hairs! I persuaded myself that my love for
+her was like that of a father, and it was as a father that she cherished
+me. Ah, I passed many a delicious hour listening to her gentle prattle
+and her innocent confidences; I was happy when I saw her skipping about
+in my garden, picking the roses I had reared for her, and laying waste
+my parterres; and I said to myself that existence is a precious gift
+from God. My dream then was to follow her through life. I fancied her
+wedded to some good man who made her happy, while I remained the friend
+of the wife, after having been the confidant of the maiden. I took good
+care of my fortune, which is considerable, because I thought of her
+children, and wished to hoard up treasures for them. Poor, poor
+Laurence!"
+
+M. Lecoq fidgeted in his chair, rubbed his face with his handkerchief,
+and seemed ill at ease. He was really much more touched than he wished
+to appear.
+
+"One day," pursued the old man, "my friend Courtois spoke to me of her
+marriage with Tremorel; then I measured the depth of my love. I felt
+terrible agonies which it is impossible to describe; it was like a
+long-smothered fire which suddenly breaks forth and devours everything.
+To be old, and to love a child! I thought I was going crazy; I tried to
+reason, to upbraid myself, but it was of no avail. What can reason or
+irony do against passion? I kept silent and suffered. To crown all,
+Laurence selected me as her confidant--what torture! She came to me to
+talk of Hector; she admired in him all that seemed to her superior to
+other men, so that none could be compared with him. She was enchanted
+with his bold horseback riding, and thought everything he said sublime."
+
+"Did you know what a wretch Tremorel was?"
+
+"Alas, I did not yet know it. What was this man who lived at Valfeuillu
+to me? But from the day that I learned that he was going to deprive me
+of my most precious treasure, I began to study him. I should have been
+somewhat consoled if I had found him worthy of her; so I dogged him, as
+you, Monsieur Lecoq, cling to the criminal whom you are pursuing. I went
+often to Paris to learn what I could of his past life; I became a
+detective, and went about questioning everybody who had known him, and
+the more I heard of him the more I despised him. It was thus that I
+found out his interviews with Jenny and his relations with Bertha."
+
+"Why didn't you divulge them?"
+
+"Honor commanded silence. Had I a right to dishonor my friend and ruin
+his happiness and life, because of this ridiculous, hopeless love? I
+kept my own counsel after speaking to Courtois about Jenny, at which he
+only laughed. When I hinted something against Hector to Laurence, she
+almost ceased coming to see me."
+
+"Ah! I shouldn't have had either your patience or your generosity."
+
+"Because you are not as old as I, Monsieur Lecoq. Oh, I cruelly hated
+this Tremorel! I said to myself, when I saw three women of such
+different characters smitten with him, 'what is there in him to be so
+loved?'"
+
+"Yes," answered M. Lecoq, responding to a secret thought, "women often
+err; they don't judge men as we do."
+
+"Many a time," resumed the justice of the peace, "I thought of provoking
+him to fight with me, that I might kill him; but then Laurence would not
+have looked at me any more. However, I should perhaps have spoken at
+last, had not Sauvresy fallen ill and died. I knew that he had made his
+wife and Tremorel swear to marry each other; I knew that a terrible
+reason forced them to keep their oath; and I thought Laurence saved.
+Alas, on the contrary she was lost! One evening, as I was passing the
+mayor's house, I saw a man getting over the wall into the garden; it was
+Tremorel. I recognized him perfectly. I was beside myself with rage, and
+swore that I would wait and murder him. I did wait, but he did not come
+out that night."
+
+M. Plantat hid his face in his hands; his heart bled at the recollection
+of that night of anguish, the whole of which he had passed in waiting
+for a man in order to kill him. M. Lecoq trembled with indignation.
+
+"This Tremorel," cried he, "is the most abominable of scoundrels. There
+is no excuse for his infamies and crimes. And yet you want to save him
+from trial, the galleys, the scaffold which await him."
+
+The old man paused a moment before replying. Of the thoughts which now
+crowded tumultuously in his mind, he did not know which to utter first.
+Words seemed powerless to betray his sensations; he wanted to express
+all that he felt in a single sentence.
+
+"What matters Tremorel to me?" said he at last. "Do you think I care
+about him? I don't care whether he lives or dies, whether he succeeds in
+flying or ends his life some morning in the Place Roquette."
+
+"Then why have you such a horror of a trial?"
+
+"Because--"
+
+"Are you a friend to his family, and anxious to preserve the great name
+which he has covered with mud and devoted to infamy?"
+
+"No, but I am anxious for Laurence, my friend; the thought of her never
+leaves me."
+
+"But she is not his accomplice; she is totally ignorant--there's no
+doubt of it--that he has killed his wife."
+
+"Yes," resumed M. Plantat, "Laurence is innocent; she is only the victim
+of an odious villain. It is none the less true, though, that she would
+be more cruelly punished than he. If Tremorel is brought before the
+court, she will have to appear too, as a witness if not as a prisoner.
+And who knows that her truth will not be suspected? She will be asked
+whether she really had no knowledge of the project to murder Bertha, and
+whether she did not encourage it. Bertha was her rival; it is natural to
+suppose that she hated her. If I were the judge I should not hesitate to
+include Laurence in the indictment."
+
+"With our aid she will prove victoriously that she was ignorant of all,
+and has been outrageously deceived."
+
+"May be; but will she be any the less dishonored and forever lost? Must
+she not, in that case, appear in public, answer the judge's questions,
+and narrate the story of her shame and misfortunes? Must not she say
+where, when, and how she fell, and repeat the villain's words to her?
+Can you imagine that of her own free will she compelled herself to
+announce her suicide at the risk of killing her parents with grief? No.
+Then she must explain what menaces forced her to do this, which surely
+was not her own idea. And worse than all, she will be compelled to
+confess her love for Tremorel."
+
+"No," answered the detective. "Let us not exaggerate anything. You know
+as well as I do that justice is most considerate with the innocent
+victims of affairs of this sort."
+
+"Consideration? Eh! Could justice protect her, even if it would, from
+the publicity in which trials are conducted? You might touch the
+magistrates' hearts; but there are fifty journalists who, since this
+crime, have been cutting their pens and getting their paper ready. Do
+you think that, to please us, they would suppress the scandalous
+proceedings which I am anxious to avoid, and which the noble name of the
+murderer would make a great sensation? Does not this case unite every
+feature which gives success to judicial dramas? Oh, there's nothing
+wanting, neither unworthy passion, nor poison, nor vengeance, nor
+murder. Laurence represents in it the romantic and sentimental element;
+she--my darling girl--will become a heroine of the assizes; it is she
+who will attract the readers of the Police Gazette; the reporters will
+tell when she blushes and when she weeps; they will rival each other in
+describing her toilet and bearing. Then there will be the photographers
+besieging her, and if she refuses to sit, portraits of some hussy of the
+street will be sold as hers. She will yearn to hide herself--but where?
+Can a few locks and bars shelter her from eager curiosity? She will
+become famous. What shame and misery! If she is to be saved, Monsieur
+Lecoq, her name must not be spoken. I ask of you, is it possible? Answer
+me."
+
+The old man was very violent, yet his speech was simple, devoid of the
+pompous phrases of passion. Anger lit up his eyes with a strange fire;
+he seemed young again--he loved, and defended his beloved.
+
+M. Lecoq was silent; his companion insisted.
+
+"Answer me."
+
+"Who knows?"
+
+"Why seek to mislead me? Haven't I as well as you had experience in
+these things? If Tremorel is brought to trial, all is over with
+Laurence! And I love her! Yes, I dare to confess it to you, and let you
+see the depth of my grief, I love her now as I have never loved her. She
+is dishonored, an object of contempt, perhaps still adores this
+wretch--what matters it? I love her a thousand times more than before
+her fall, for then I loved her without hope, while now--"
+
+He stopped, shocked at what he was going to say. His eyes fell before M.
+Lecoq's steady gaze, and he blushed for this shameful yet human hope
+that he had betrayed.
+
+"You know all, now," resumed he, in a calmer tone; "consent to aid me,
+won't you? Ah, if you only would, I should not think I had repaid you
+were I to give you half my fortune--and I am rich--"
+
+M. Lecoq stopped him with a haughty gesture.
+
+"Enough, Monsieur Plantat," said he, in a bitter tone, "I can do a
+service to a person whom I esteem, love and pity with all my soul; but I
+cannot sell such a service."
+
+"Believe that I did not wish--"
+
+"Yes, yes, you wished to pay me. Oh, don't excuse yourself, don't deny
+it. There are professions, I know, in which manhood and integrity seem
+to count for nothing. Why offer me money? What reason have you for
+judging me so mean as to sell my favors? You are like the rest, who
+can't fancy what a man in my position is. If I wanted to be rich--richer
+than you--I could be so in a fortnight. Don't you see that I hold in my
+hands the honor and lives of fifty people? Do you think I tell all I
+know? I have here," added he, tapping his forehead, "twenty secrets that
+I could sell to-morrow, if I would, for a plump hundred thousand
+apiece."
+
+He was indignant, but beneath his anger a certain sad resignation might
+be perceived. He had often to reject such offers.
+
+"If you go and resist this prejudice established for ages, and say that
+a detective is honest and cannot be otherwise, that he is tenfold more
+honest than any merchant or notary, because he has tenfold the
+temptations, without the benefits of his honesty; if you say this,
+they'll laugh in your face. I could get together to-morrow, with
+impunity, without any risk, at least a million. Who would mistrust it? I
+have a conscience, it's true; but a little consideration for these
+things would not be unpleasant. When it would be so easy for me to
+divulge what I know of those who have been obliged to trust me, or
+things which I have surprised, there is perhaps a merit in holding my
+tongue. And still, the first man who should come along to-morrow--a
+defaulting banker, a ruined merchant, a notary who has gambled on
+'change--would feel himself compromised by walking up the boulevard with
+me! A policeman--fie! But old Tabaret used to say to me, that the
+contempt of such people was only one form of fear."
+
+M. Plantat was dismayed. How could he, a man of delicacy, prudence and
+finesse, have committed such an awkward mistake? He had just cruelly
+wounded this man, who was so well disposed toward him, and he had
+everything to fear from his resentment.
+
+"Far be it from me, dear friend," he commenced, "to intend the offence
+you imagine. You have misunderstood an insignificant phrase, which I let
+escape carelessly, and had no meaning at all."
+
+M. Lecoq grew calmer.
+
+"Perhaps so. You will forgive my being so susceptible, as I am more
+exposed to insults than most people. Let's leave the subject, which is a
+painful one, and return to Tremorel."
+
+M. Plantat was just thinking whether he should dare to broach his
+projects again, and he was singularly touched by M. Lecoq's delicately
+resuming the subject of them.
+
+"I have only to await your decision," said the justice of the peace.
+
+"I will not conceal from you," resumed M. Lecoq, "that you are asking a
+very difficult thing, and one which is contrary to my duty, which
+commands me to search for Tremorel, to arrest him, and deliver him up to
+justice. You ask me to protect him from the law--"
+
+"In the name of an innocent creature whom you will thereby save."
+
+"Once in my life I sacrificed my duty. I could not resist the tears of a
+poor old mother, who clung to my knees and implored pardon for her son.
+To-day I am going to exceed my right, and to risk an attempt for which
+my conscience will perhaps reproach me. I yield to your entreaty."
+
+"Oh, my dear Lecoq, how grateful I am!" cried M. Plantat, transported
+with joy.
+
+But the detective remained grave, almost sad, and reflected.
+
+"Don't let us encourage a hope which may be disappointed," he resumed.
+"I have but one means of keeping a criminal like Tremorel out of the
+courts; will it succeed?"
+
+"Yes, yes. If you wish it, it will!"
+
+M. Lecoq could not help smiling at the old man's faith.
+
+"I am certainly a clever detective," said he. "But I am only a man after
+all, and I can't answer for the actions of another man. All depends upon
+Hector. If it were another criminal, I should say I was sure. I am
+doubtful about him, I frankly confess. We ought, above all, to count
+upon the firmness of Mademoiselle Courtois; can we, think you?"
+
+"She is firmness itself."
+
+"Then there's hope. But can we really suppress this affair? What will
+happen when Sauvresy's narrative is found? It must be concealed
+somewhere in Valfeuillu, and Tremorel, at least, did not find it."
+
+"It will not be found," said M. Plantat, quickly.
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+M. Lecoq gazed intently at his companion, and simply said:
+
+"Ah!"
+
+But this is what he thought: "At last I am going to find out where the
+manuscript which we heard read the other night, and which is in two
+handwritings, came from."
+
+After a moment's hesitation, M. Plantat went on:
+
+"I have put my life in your hands, Monsieur Lecoq; I can, of course,
+confide my honor to you. I know you. I know that, happen what may--"
+
+"I shall keep my mouth shut, on my honor."
+
+"Very well. The day that I caught Tremorel at the mayor's, I wished to
+verify the suspicions I had, and so I broke the seal of Sauvresy's
+package of papers."
+
+"And you did not use them?"
+
+"I was dismayed at my abuse of confidence. Besides, had I the right to
+deprive poor Sauvresy, who was dying in order to avenge himself, of his
+vengeance?"
+
+"But you gave the papers to Madame de Tremorel?"
+
+"True; but Bertha had a vague presentiment of the fate that was in store
+for her. About a fortnight before her death she came and confided to me
+her husband's manuscript, which she had taken care to complete. I broke
+the seals and read it, to see if he had died a violent death."
+
+"Why, then, didn't you tell me? Why did you let me hunt, hesitate, grope
+about--"
+
+"I love Laurence, Monsieur Lecoq, and to deliver up Tremorel was to open
+an abyss between her and me."
+
+The detective bowed. "The deuce," thought he, "the old justice is
+shrewd--as shrewd as I am. Well, I like him, and I'm going to give him a
+surprise."
+
+M. Plantat yearned to question his host and to know what the sole means
+of which he spoke were, which might be successful in preventing a trial
+and saving Laurence, but he did not dare to do so.
+
+The detective bent over his desk lost in thought. He held a pencil in
+his hand and mechanically drew fantastic figures on a large sheet of
+white paper which lay before him. He suddenly came out of his revery. He
+had just solved a last difficulty; his plan was now entire and complete.
+He glanced at the clock.
+
+"Two o'clock," cried he, "and I have an appointment between three and
+four with Madame Charman about Jenny."
+
+"I am at your disposal," returned his guest.
+
+"All right. When Jenny is disposed of we must look after Tremorel; so
+let's take our measures to finish it up to-day."
+
+"What! do you hope to do everything to-day--"
+
+"Certainly. Rapidity is above all necessary in our profession. It often
+takes a month to regain an hour lost. We've a chance now of catching
+Hector by surprise; to-morrow it will be too late. Either we shall have
+him within four-and-twenty hours or we must change our batteries. Each
+of my three men has a carriage and a good horse; they may be able to
+finish with the upholsterers within an hour from now. If I calculate
+aright, we shall have the address in an hour, or at most in two hours,
+and then we will act."
+
+Lecoq, as he spoke, took a sheet of paper surmounted by his arms out of
+his portfolio, and rapidly wrote several lines.
+
+"See here," said he, "what I've written to one of my lieutenants."
+
+"MONSIEUR JOB--"Get together six or eight of our men at once and take
+them to the wine merchant's at the corner of the Rue des Martyrs and the
+Rue Lamartine; await my orders there."
+
+"Why there and not here?"
+
+"Because we must avoid needless excursions. At the place I have
+designated we are only two steps from Madame Charman's and near
+Tremorel's retreat; for the wretch has hired his rooms in the quarter of
+Notre Dame de Lorette."
+
+M. Plantat gave an exclamation of surprise.
+
+"What makes you think that?"
+
+The detective smiled, as if the question seemed foolish to him.
+
+"Don't you recollect that the envelope of the letter addressed by
+Mademoiselle Courtois to her family to announce her suicide bore the
+Paris postmark, and that of the branch office of Rue St. Lazare? Now
+listen to this: On leaving her aunt's house, Laurence must have gone
+directly to Tremorel's apartments, the address of which he had given
+her, and where he had promised to meet her on Thursday morning. She
+wrote the letter, then, in his apartments. Can we admit that she had the
+presence of mind to post the letter in another quarter than that in
+which she was? It is at least probable that she was ignorant of the
+terrible reasons which Tremorel had to fear a search and pursuit. Had
+Hector foresight enough to suggest this trick to her? No, for if he
+wasn't a fool he would have told her to post the letter somewhere
+outside of Paris. It is therefore scarcely possible that it was posted
+anywhere else than at the nearest branch office."
+
+These suppositions were so simple that M. Plantat wondered he had not
+thought of them before. But men do not see clearly in affairs in which
+they are deeply interested; passion dims the eyes, as heat in a room
+dims a pair of spectacles. He had lost, with his coolness, a part of his
+clearsightedness. His anxiety was very great; for he thought M. Lecoq
+had a singular mode of keeping his promise.
+
+"It seems to me," he could not help remarking, "that if you wish to keep
+Hector from trial, the men you have summoned together will be more
+embarrassing than useful."
+
+M. Lecoq thought that his guest's tone and look betrayed a certain
+doubt, and was irritated by it.
+
+"Do you distrust me, Monsieur Plantat?"
+
+The old man tried to protest.
+
+"Believe me--"
+
+"You have my word," resumed M. Lecoq, "and if you knew me better you
+would know that I always keep it when I have given it. I have told you
+that I would do my best to save Mademoiselle Laurence; but remember that
+I have promised you my assistance, not absolute success. Let me, then,
+take such measures as I think best."
+
+So saying, he rang for Janouille.
+
+"Here's a letter," said he when she appeared, "which must be sent to Job
+at once."
+
+"I will carry it."
+
+"By no means. You will be pleased to remain here and wait for the men
+that I sent out this morning. As they come in, send them to the wine
+merchant's at the corner of the Rue des Martyrs; you know it--opposite
+the church. They'll find a numerous company there."
+
+As he gave his orders, he took off his gown, assumed a long black coat,
+and carefully adjusted his wig.
+
+"Will Monsieur be back this evening?" asked Janouille.
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"And if anybody comes from over yonder?"
+
+"Over yonder" with a detective, always means "the house"--otherwise the
+prefecture of police.
+
+"Say that I am out on the Corbeil affair."
+
+M. Lecoq was soon ready. He had the air, physiognomy, and manners of a
+highly respectable chief clerk of fifty. Gold spectacles, an umbrella,
+everything about him exhaled an odor of the ledger.
+
+"Now," said he to M. Plantat. "Let's hurry away." Goulard, who had made
+a hearty breakfast, was waiting for his hero in the dining-room.
+
+"Ah ha, old fellow," said M. Lecoq. "So you've had a few words with my
+wine. How do you find it?"
+
+"Delicious, my chief; perfect--that is to say, a true nectar."
+
+"It's cheered you up, I hope."
+
+"Oh, yes, my chief."
+
+"Then you may follow us a few steps and mount guard at the door of the
+house where you see us go in. I shall probably have to confide a pretty
+little girl to your care whom you will carry to Monsieur Domini. And
+open your eyes; for she's a sly creature, and very apt to inveigle you
+on the way and slip through your fingers."
+
+They went out, and Janouille stoutly barricaded herself behind them.
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+
+Whosoever needs a loan of money, or a complete suit of clothes in the
+top of the fashion, a pair of ladies' boots, or an Indian cashmere; a
+porcelain table service or a good picture; whosoever desires diamonds,
+curtains, laces, a house in the country, or a provision of wood for
+winter fires--may procure all these, and many other things besides, at
+Mme. Charman's.
+
+Mme. Charman lives at 136, Rue Notre Dame de Lorette, on the first story
+above the ground-floor. Her customers must give madame some guarantee of
+their credit; a woman, if she be young and pretty, may be accommodated
+at madame's at the reasonable rate of two hundred per cent interest.
+Madame has, at these rates, considerable custom, and yet has not made a
+large fortune. She must necessarily risk a great deal, and bears heavy
+losses as well as receives large profits. Then she is, as she is pleased
+to say, too honest; and true enough, she is honest--she would rather
+sell her dress off her back than let her signature go to protest.
+
+Madame is a blonde, slight, gentle, and not wanting in a certain
+distinction of manner; she invariably wears, whether it be summer or
+winter, a black silk dress. They say she has a husband, but no one has
+ever seen him, which does not prevent his reputation for good conduct
+from being above suspicion. However, honorable as may be Mme. Charman's
+profession, she has more than once had business with M. Lecoq; she has
+need of him and fears him as she does fire. She, therefore, welcomed the
+detective and his companion--whom she took for one of his
+colleagues--somewhat as the supernumerary of a theatre would greet his
+manager if the latter chanced to pay him a visit in his humble lodgings.
+
+She was expecting them. When they rang, she advanced to meet them in the
+ante-chamber, and greeted M. Lecoq graciously and smilingly. She
+conducted them into her drawing-room, invited them to sit in her best
+arm-chairs, and pressed some refreshments upon them.
+
+"I see, dear Madame," began M. Lecoq, "that you have received my little
+note."
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Lecoq, early this morning; I was not up."
+
+"Very good. And have you been so kind as to do the service I asked?"
+
+"How can you ask me, when you know that I would go through the fire for
+you? I set about it at once, getting up expressly for the purpose."
+
+"Then you've got the address of Pelagie Taponnet, called Jenny?"
+
+"Yes, I have," returned Mme. Charman, with an obsequious bow. "If I were
+the kind of woman to magnify my services, I would tell you what trouble
+it cost me to find this address, and how I ran all over Paris and spent
+ten francs in cab hire."
+
+"Well, let's come to the point."
+
+"The truth is, I had the pleasure of seeing Miss Jenny day before
+yesterday."
+
+"You are joking!"
+
+"Not the least in the world. And let me tell you that she is a very
+courageous and honest girl."
+
+"Really!"
+
+"She is, indeed. Why, she has owed me four hundred and eighty francs for
+two years. I hardly thought the debt worth much, as you may imagine. But
+Jenny came to me day before yesterday all out of breath and told me that
+she had inherited some money, and had brought me what she owed me. And
+she was not joking, either; for her purse was full of bank notes, and
+she paid me the whole of my bill. She's a good girl!" added Mme.
+Charman, as if profoundly convinced of the truth of her encomium.
+
+M. Lecoq exchanged a significant glance with the old justice; the same
+idea struck them both at the same moment. These bank-notes could only be
+the payment for some important service rendered by Jenny to Tremorel. M.
+Lecoq, however, wished for more precise information.
+
+"What was Jenny's condition before this windfall?" asked he.
+
+"Ah, Monsieur Lecoq, she was in a dreadful condition. Since the count
+deserted her she has been constantly falling lower and lower. She sold
+all she had piece by piece. At last, she mixed with the worst kind of
+people, drank absinthe, they say, and had nothing to put to her back.
+When she got any money she spent it on a parcel of hussies instead of
+buying clothes."
+
+"And where is she living?"
+
+"Right by, in a house in the Rue Vintimille."
+
+"If that is so," replied M. Lecoq, severely, "I am astonished that she
+is not here."
+
+"It's not my fault, dear Monsieur Lecoq; I know where the nest is, but
+not where the bird is. She was away this morning when I sent for her."
+
+"The deuce! But then--it's very annoying; I must hunt her up at once."
+
+"You needn't disturb yourself. Jenny ought to return before four
+o'clock, and one of my girls is waiting for her with orders to bring her
+here as soon as she comes in, without even letting her go up to her
+room."
+
+"We'll wait for her then."
+
+M. Lecoq and his friend waited about a quarter of an hour, when Mme.
+Charman suddenly got up.
+
+"I hear my girl's step on the stairs," said she.
+
+"Listen to me," answered M. Lecoq, "if it is she, manage to make Jenny
+think that it was you who sent for her; we will seem to have come in by
+the merest chance."
+
+Mme. Charman responded by a gesture of assent. She was going towards the
+door when the detective detained her by the arm.
+
+"One word more. When you see me fairly engaged in conversation with her,
+please be so good as to go and overlook your work-people in the shops.
+What I have to say will not interest you in the least."
+
+"I understand."
+
+"But no trickery, you know. I know where the closet of your bedroom is,
+well enough to be sure that everything that is said here may be
+overheard in it."
+
+Mme. Charman's emissary opened the door; there was a loud rustling of
+silks along the corridor; and Jenny appeared in all her glory. She was
+no longer the fresh and pretty minx whom Hector had known--the provoking
+large-eyed Parisian demoiselle, with haughty head and petulant grace. A
+single year had withered her, as a too hot summer does the roses, and
+had destroyed her fragile beauty beyond recall. She was not twenty, and
+still it was hard to discern that she had been charming, and was yet
+young. For she had grown old like vice; her worn features and hollow
+cheeks betrayed the dissipations of her life; her eyes had lost their
+long, languishing lids; her mouth had a pitiful expression of
+stupefaction; and absinthe had broken the clear tone of her voice. She
+was richly dressed in a new robe, with a great deal of lace and a jaunty
+hat; yet she had a wretched expression; she was all besmeared with rouge
+and paint.
+
+When she came in she seemed very angry.
+
+"What an idea!" she cried, without taking the trouble to bow to anyone;
+"what sense is there in sending for me to come here in this way, almost
+by force, and by a very impudent young woman?"
+
+Mme. Charman hastened to meet her old customer, embraced her in spite of
+herself, and pressed her to her heart.
+
+"Why, don't be so angry, dear--I thought you would be delighted and
+overwhelm me with thanks."
+
+"I? What for?"
+
+"Because, my dear girl, I had a surprise in store for you. Ah, I'm not
+ungrateful; you came here yesterday and settled your account with me,
+and to-day I mean to reward you for it. Come, cheer up; you're going to
+have a splendid chance, because just at this moment I happen to have a
+piece of exquisite velvet--"
+
+"A pretty thing to bring me here for!"
+
+"All silk, my dear, at thirty francs the yard. Ha, 'tis wonderfully
+cheap, the best--"
+
+"Eh! What care I for your 'chance?' Velvet in July--are you making fun
+of me?"
+
+"Let me show it to you, now."
+
+"Never! I am expected to dinner at Asnieres, and so--"
+
+She was about to go away despite Mme. Charman's attempts to detain her,
+when M. Lecoq thought it was time to interfere.
+
+"Why, am I mistaken?" cried he, as if amazed; "is it really Miss Jenny
+whom I have the honor of seeing?"
+
+She scanned him with a half-angry, half-surprised air, and said:
+
+"Yes, it is I; what of it?"
+
+"What! Are you so forgetful? Don't you recognize me?"
+
+"No, not at all."
+
+"Yet I was one of your admirers once, my dear, and used to breakfast
+with you when you lived near the Madeleine; in the count's time, you
+know."
+
+He took off his spectacles as if to wipe them, but really to launch a
+furious look at Mme. Charman, who, not daring to resist, beat a hasty
+retreat.
+
+"I knew Tremorel well in other days," resumed the detective. "And--by
+the bye, have you heard any news of him lately?"
+
+"I saw him about a week ago."
+
+"Stop, though--haven't you heard of that horrible affair?"
+
+"No. What was it?"
+
+"Really, now, haven't you heard? Don't you read the papers? It was a
+dreadful thing, and has been the talk of all Paris for the past
+forty-eight hours."
+
+"Tell me about it, quick!"
+
+"You know that he married the widow of one of his friends. He was
+thought to be very happy at home; not at all; he has murdered his wife
+with a knife."
+
+Jenny grew pale under her paint.
+
+"Is it possible?" stammered she. She seemed much affected, but not very
+greatly surprised, which M. Lecoq did not fail to remark.
+
+"It is so possible," he resumed, "that he is at this moment in prison,
+will soon be tried, and without a doubt will be convicted."
+
+M. Plantat narrowly observed Jenny; he looked for an explosion of
+despair, screams, tears, at least a light nervous attack; he was
+mistaken.
+
+Jenny now detested Tremorel. Sometimes she felt the weight of her
+degradation, and she accused Hector of her present ignominy. She
+heartily hated him, though she smiled when she saw him, got as much
+money out of him as she could, and cursed him behind his back. Instead
+of bursting into tears, she therefore laughed aloud.
+
+"Well done for Tremorel," said she. "Why did he leave me? Good for her
+too."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"What did she deceive her husband for? It was she who took Hector from
+me--she, a rich, married woman! But I've always said Hector was a poor
+wretch."
+
+"Frankly, that's my notion too. When a man acts as Tremorel has toward
+you, he's a villain."
+
+"It's so, isn't it?"
+
+"Parbleu! But I'm not surprised at his conduct. For his wife's murder is
+the least of his crimes; why, he tried to put it off upon somebody
+else!"
+
+"That doesn't surprise me."
+
+"He accused a poor devil as innocent as you or I, who might have been
+condemned to death if he hadn't been able to tell where he was on
+Wednesday night."
+
+M. Lecoq said this lightly, with intended deliberation, so as to watch
+the impression he produced on Jenny.
+
+"Do you know who the man was?" asked she in a tremulous voice.
+
+"The papers said it was a poor lad who was his gardener."
+
+"A little man, wasn't he, thin, very dark, with black hair?"
+
+"Just so."
+
+"And whose name was--wait now--was--Guespin."
+
+"Ah ha, you know him then?"
+
+Jenny hesitated. She was trembling very much, and evidently regretted
+that she had gone so far.
+
+"Bah!" said she at last. "I don't see why I shouldn't tell what I know.
+I'm an honest girl, if Tremorel is a rogue; and I don't want them to
+condemn a poor wretch who is innocent."
+
+"You know something about it, then?"
+
+"Well, I know nearly all about it--that's honest, ain't it? About a week
+ago Hector wrote to me to meet him at Melun; I went, found him, and we
+breakfasted together. Then he told me that he was very much annoyed
+about his cook's marriage; for one of his servants was deeply in love
+with her, and might go and raise a rumpus at the wedding."
+
+"Ah, he spoke to you about the wedding, then?"
+
+"Wait a minute. Hector seemed very much embarrassed, not knowing how to
+avoid the disturbance he feared. Then I advised him to send the servant
+off out of the way on the wedding-day. He thought a moment, and said
+that my advice was good. He added that he had found a means of doing
+this; on the evening of the marriage he would send the man on an errand
+for me, telling him that the affair was to be concealed from the
+countess. I was to dress up--as a chambermaid, and wait for the man at
+the cafe in the Place du Chatelet, between half-past nine and ten that
+evening; I was to sit at the table nearest the entrance on the right,
+with a bouquet in my hand, so that he should recognize me. He would come
+in and give me a package; then I was to ask him to take something, and
+so get him tipsy if possible, and then walk about Paris with him till
+morning."
+
+Jenny expressed herself with difficulty, hesitating, choosing her words,
+and trying to remember exactly what Tremorel said.
+
+"And you," interrupted M. Lecoq, "did you believe all this story about a
+jealous servant?"
+
+"Not quite; but I fancied that he had some intrigue on foot, and I
+wasn't sorry to help him deceive a woman whom I detested, and who had
+wronged me."
+
+"So you did as he told you?"
+
+"Exactly, from beginning to end; everything happened just as Hector had
+foreseen. The man came along at just ten o'clock, took me for a maid,
+and gave me the package. I naturally offered him a glass of beer; he
+took it and proposed another, which I also accepted. He is a very nice
+fellow, this gardener, and I passed a very pleasant evening with him. He
+knew lots of queer things, and--"
+
+"Never mind that. What did you do then?"
+
+"After the beer we had some wine, then some beer again, then some punch,
+then some more wine--the gardener had his pockets full of money. He was
+very tipsy by eleven and invited me to go and have a dance with him at
+the Batignolles. I refused, and asked him to escort me back to my
+mistress at the upper end of the Champs Elysees. We went out of the cafe
+and walked up the Rue de Rivoli, stopping every now and then for more
+wine and beer. By two o'clock the fellow was so far gone that he fell
+like a lump on a bench near the Arc de Triomphe, where he went to sleep;
+and there I left him."
+
+"Well, where did you go?"
+
+"Home."
+
+"What has become of the package?"
+
+"Oh, I intended to throw it into the Seine, as Hector wished, but I
+forgot it; you see, I had drunk almost as much as the gardener--so I
+carried it back home with me, and it is in my room now."
+
+"Have you opened it?"
+
+"Well--what do you think?"
+
+"What did it contain?"
+
+"A hammer, two other tools and a large knife."
+
+Guespin's innocence was now evident, and the detective's foresight was
+realized.
+
+"Guespin's all right," said M. Plantat. "But we must know--"
+
+M. Lecoq interrupted him; he knew now all he wished. Jenny could tell
+him nothing more, so he suddenly changed his tone from a wheedling one
+to abrupt severity.
+
+"My fine young woman," said he, "you have saved an innocent man, but you
+must repeat what you have just said to the judge of instruction at
+Corbeil. And as you might lose yourself on the way, I'll give you a
+guide."
+
+He went to the window and opened it; perceiving Goulard on the sidewalk,
+he cried out to him:
+
+"Goulard, come up here."
+
+He turned to the astonished Jenny, who was so frightened that she dared
+not either question him or get angry, and said:
+
+"Tell me how much Tremorel paid you for the service you rendered him."
+
+"Ten thousand francs; but it is my due, I swear to you; for he promised
+it to me long ago, and owed it to me."
+
+"Very good; it can't be taken away from you." He added, pointing out
+Goulard who entered just then: "Go with this man to your room, take the
+package which Guespin brought you, and set out at once for Corbeil.
+Above all, no tricks, Miss--or beware of me!"
+
+Mme. Charman came in just in time to see Jenny leave the room with
+Goulard.
+
+"Lord, what's the matter?" she asked M. Lecoq.
+
+"Nothing, my dear Madame, nothing that concerns you in the least. And
+so, thank you and good-evening; we are in a great hurry."
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+
+When M. Lecoq was in a hurry he walked fast. He almost ran down the Rue
+Notre Dame de Lorette, so that Plantat had great difficulty in keeping
+up with him; and as he went along he pursued his train of reflection,
+half aloud, so that his companion caught here and there a snatch of it.
+
+"All goes well," he muttered, "and we shall succeed. It's seldom that a
+campaign which commences so well ends badly. If Job is at the wine
+merchant's, and if one of my men has succeeded in his search, the crime
+of Valfeuillu is solved, and in a week people will have forgotten it."
+
+He stopped short on reaching the foot of the street opposite the church.
+
+"I must ask you to pardon me," said he to the old justice, "for hurrying
+you on so and making you one of my trade; but your assistance might have
+been very useful at Madame Charman's, and will be indispensable when we
+get fairly on Tremorel's track."
+
+They went across the square and into the wine shop at the corner of the
+Rue des Martyrs. Its keeper was standing behind his counter turning wine
+out of a large jug into some litres, and did not seem much astonished at
+seeing his new visitors. M. Lecoq was quite at home (as he was
+everywhere), and spoke to the man with an air of easy familiarity.
+
+"Aren't there six or eight men waiting for somebody here?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, they came about an hour ago."
+
+"Are they in the big back room?"
+
+"Just so, Monsieur," responded the wine merchant, obsequiously.
+
+He didn't exactly know who was talking to him, but he suspected him to
+be some superior officer from the prefecture; and he was not surprised
+to see that this distinguished personage knew the ins and outs of his
+house. He opened the door of the room referred to without hesitation.
+Ten men in various guises were drinking there and playing cards. On M.
+Lecoq's entrance with M. Plantat, they respectfully got up and took off
+their hats.
+
+"Good for you, Job," said M. Lecoq to him who seemed to be their chief,
+"you are prompt, and it pleases me. Your ten men will be quite enough,
+for I shall have the three besides whom I sent out this morning."
+
+M. Job bowed, happy at having pleased a master who was not very prodigal
+in his praises.
+
+"I want you to wait here a while longer," resumed M. Lecoq, "for my
+orders will depend on a report which I am expecting." He turned to the
+men whom he had sent out among the upholsterers:
+
+"Which of you was successful?"
+
+"I, Monsieur," replied a big white-faced fellow, with insignificant
+mustaches.
+
+"What, you again, Palot? really, my lad, you are lucky. Step into this
+side room--first, though, order a bottle of wine, and ask the proprietor
+to see to it that we are not disturbed."
+
+These orders were soon executed, and M. Plantat being duly ensconced
+with them in the little room, the detective turned the key.
+
+"Speak up now," said he to Palot, "and be brief."
+
+"I showed the photograph to at least a dozen upholsterers without any
+result; but at last a merchant in the Faubourg St. Germain, named Rech,
+recognized it."
+
+"Tell me just what he said, if you can."
+
+"He told me that it was the portrait of one of his customers. A month
+ago this customer came to him to buy a complete set of
+furniture--drawing-room, dining-room, bed-room, and the rest--for a
+little house which he had just rented. He did not beat him down at all,
+and only made one condition to the purchase, and that was, that
+everything should be ready and in place, and the curtains and carpets
+put in, within three weeks from that time; that is a week ago last
+Monday."
+
+"And what was the sum-total of the purchase?"
+
+"Eighteen thousand francs, half paid down in advance, and half on the
+day of delivery."
+
+"And who carried the last half of the money to the upholsterer?"
+
+"A servant."
+
+"What name did this customer give?"
+
+"He called himself Monsieur James Wilson; but Monsieur Rech said he did
+not seem like an English-man."
+
+"Where does he live?"
+
+"The furniture was carried to a small house, No. 34 Rue St. Lazare, near
+the Havre station."
+
+M. Lecoq's face, which had up to that moment worn an anxious expression,
+beamed with joy. He felt the natural pride of a captain who has
+succeeded in his plans for the enemy's destruction. He tapped the old
+justice of the peace familiarly on the shoulder, and pronounced a single
+word:
+
+"Nipped!"
+
+Palot shook his head.
+
+"It isn't certain," said he.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You may imagine, Monsieur Lecoq, that when I got the address, having
+some time on my hands, I went to reconnoitre the house."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"The tenant's name is really Wilson, but it's not the man of the
+photograph, I'm certain."
+
+M. Plantat gave a groan of disappointment, but M. Lecoq was not so
+easily discouraged.
+
+"How did you find out?"
+
+"I pumped one of the servants."
+
+"Confound you!" cried M. Plantat. "Perhaps you roused suspicions."
+
+"Oh, no," answered M. Lecoq. "I'll answer for him. Palot is a pupil of
+mine. Explain yourself, Palot."
+
+"Recognizing the house--an elegant affair it is, too--I said to myself:
+'I' faith, here's the cage; let's see if the bird is in it.' I luckily
+happened to have a napoleon in my pocket; and I slipped it without
+hesitation into the drain which led from the house to the
+street-gutter."
+
+"Then you rang?"
+
+"Exactly. The porter--there is a porter--opened the door, and with my
+most vexed air I told him how, in pulling out my handkerchief, I had
+dropped a twenty-franc piece in the drain, and begged him to lend me
+something to try to get it out. He lent me a poker and took another
+himself, and we got the money out with no difficulty; I began to jump
+about as if I were delighted, and begged him to let me treat him to a
+glass of wine."
+
+"Not bad."
+
+"Oh, Monsieur Lecoq, it is one of your tricks, you know. My porter
+accepted my invitation, and we soon got to be the best friends in the
+world over some wine in a shop just across the street from the house. We
+were having a jolly talk together when, all of a sudden, I leaned over
+as if I had just espied something on the floor, and picked up--the
+photograph, which I had dropped and soiled a little with my foot.
+'What,' cried I, 'a portrait?' My new friend took it, looked at it, and
+didn't seem to recognize it. Then, to be certain, I said, 'He's a very
+good-looking fellow, ain't he now? Your master must be some such a man.'
+But he said no, that the photograph was of a man who was bearded, while
+his master was as clean-faced as an abbe. 'Besides,' he added, 'my
+master is an American; he gives us our orders in French, but Madame and
+he always talk English together.'"
+
+M. Lecoq's eye glistened as Palot proceeded.
+
+"Tremorel speaks English, doesn't he?" asked he of M. Plantat.
+
+"Quite well; and Laurence too."
+
+"If that is so, we are on the right track, for we know that Tremorel
+shaved his beard off on the night of the murder. We can go on--"
+
+Palot meanwhile seemed a little uneasy at not receiving the praise he
+expected.
+
+"My lad," said M. Lecoq, turning to him, "I think you have done
+admirably, and a good reward shall prove it to you. Being ignorant of
+what we know, your conclusions were perfectly right. But let's go to the
+house at once; have you got a plan of the ground-floor?"
+
+"Yes, and also of the first floor above. The porter was not dumb, and so
+he gave me a good deal of information about his master and mistress,
+though he has only been there two days. The lady is dreadfully
+melancholy, and cries all the time."
+
+"We know it; the plan--"
+
+"Below, there is a large and high paved arch for the carriages to pass
+through; on the other side is a good-sized courtyard, at the end of
+which are the stable and carriage-house. The porter's lodge is on the
+left of the arch; on the right a glass door opens on a staircase with
+six steps, which conducts to a vestibule into which the drawing-room,
+dining-room, and two other little rooms open. The chambers are on the
+first floor, a study, a--"
+
+"Enough," M. Lecoq said, "my plan is made."
+
+And rising abruptly, he opened the door, and followed by M. Plantat and
+Palot, went into the large room. All the men rose at his approach as
+before.
+
+"Monsieur Job," said the detective, "listen attentively to what I have
+to say. As soon as I am gone, pay up what you owe here, and then, as I
+must have you all within reach, go and install yourselves in the first
+wine-shop on the right as you go up the Rue d'Amsterdam. Take your
+dinner there, for you will have time--but soberly, you understand."
+
+He took two napoleons out of his pocket and placed them on the table,
+adding:
+
+"That's for the dinner."
+
+M. Lecoq and the old justice went into the street, followed closely by
+Palot. The detective was anxious above all to see for himself the house
+inhabited by Tremorel. He saw at a glance that the interior must be as
+Palot had described.
+
+"That's it, undoubtedly," said he to M. Plantat; "we've got the game in
+our hands. Our chances at this moment are ninety to ten."
+
+"What are you going to do?" asked the justice, whose emotion increased
+as the decisive moment approached.
+
+"Nothing, just yet, I must wait for night before I act. As it is two
+hours yet before dark, let's imitate my men; I know a restaurant just by
+here where you can dine capitally; we'll patronize it."
+
+And without awaiting a reply, he led M. Plantat to a restaurant in the
+Passage du Havre. But at the moment he was about to open the door, he
+stopped and made a signal. Palot immediately appeared.
+
+"I give you two hours to get yourself up so that the porter won't
+recognize you, and to have some dinner. You are an upholsterer's
+apprentice. Now clear out; I shall wait for you here."
+
+M. Lecoq was right when he said that a capital dinner was to be had in
+the Passage du Havre; unfortunately M. Plantat was not in a state to
+appreciate it. As in the morning, he found it difficult to swallow
+anything, he was so anxious and depressed. He longed to know the
+detective's plans; but M. Lecoq remained impenetrable, answering all
+inquiries with:
+
+"Let me act, and trust me."
+
+M. Plantat's confidence was indeed very great; but the more he
+reflected, the more perilous and difficult seemed the attempt to save
+Tremorel from a trial. The most poignant doubts troubled and tortured
+his mind. His own life was at stake; for he had sworn to himself that he
+would not survive the ruin of Laurence in being forced to confess in
+full court her dishonor and her love for Hector.
+
+M. Lecoq tried hard to make his companion eat something, to take at
+least some soup and a glass of old Bordeaux; but he soon saw the
+uselessness of his efforts and went on with his dinner as if he were
+alone. He was very thoughtful, but any uncertainty of the result of his
+plans never entered his head. He drank much and often, and soon emptied
+his bottle of Leoville. Night having now come on the waiters began to
+light the chandeliers, and the two friends found themselves almost
+alone.
+
+"Isn't it time to begin?" asked the old justice, timidly.
+
+"We have still nearly an hour," replied M. Lecoq, consulting his watch;
+"but I shall make my preparations now."
+
+He called a waiter, and ordered a cup of coffee and writing materials.
+
+"You see," said he, while they were waiting to be served, "we must try
+to get at Laurence without Tremorel's knowing it. We must have a ten
+minutes' talk with her alone, and in the house. That is a condition
+absolutely necessary to our success."
+
+M. Plantat had evidently been expecting some immediate and decisive
+action, for M. Lecoq's remark filled him with alarm.
+
+"If that's so," said he mournfully, "it's all over with our project."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Because Tremorel will not leave Laurence by herself for a moment."
+
+"Then I'll try to entice him out."
+
+"And you, you who are usually so clear-sighted, really think that he
+will let himself be taken in by a trick! You don't consider his
+situation at this moment. He must be a prey to boundless terrors. We
+know that Sauvresy's declaration will not be found, but he does not; he
+thinks that perhaps it has been found, that suspicions have been
+aroused, and that he is already being searched for and pursued by the
+police."
+
+"I've considered all that," responded M. Lecoq with a triumphant smile,
+"and many other things besides. Well, it isn't easy to decoy Tremorel
+out of the house. I've been cudgelling my brain about it a good deal,
+and have found a way at last. The idea occurred to me just as we were
+coming in here. The Count de Tremorel, in an hour from now, will be in
+the Faubourg St. Germain. It's true it will cost me a forgery, but you
+will forgive me under the circumstances. Besides, he who seeks the end
+must use the means."
+
+He took up a pen, and as he smoked his cigar, rapidly wrote the
+following:
+
+"MONSIEUR WILSON:
+
+"Four of the thousand-franc notes which you paid me are counterfeits; I
+have just found it out by sending them to my banker's. If you are not
+here to explain the matter before ten o'clock, I shall be obliged to put
+in a complaint this evening before the procureur.
+
+"RECH."
+
+"Now," said M. Lecoq, passing the letter to his companion. "Do you
+comprehend?"
+
+The old justice read it at a glance and could not repress a joyful
+exclamation, which caused the waiters to turn around and stare at him.
+
+"Yes," said he, "this letter will catch him; it'll frighten him out of
+all his other terrors. He will say to himself that he might have slipped
+some counterfeit notes among those paid to the upholsterer, that a
+complaint against him will provoke an inquiry, and that he will have to
+prove that he is really Monsieur Wilson or he is lost."
+
+"So you think he'll come out?"
+
+"I'm sure of it, unless he has become a fool."
+
+"I tell you we shall succeed then, for this is the only serious
+obstacle--"
+
+He suddenly interrupted himself. The restaurant door opened ajar, and a
+man passed his head in and withdrew it immediately.
+
+"That's my man," said M. Lecoq, calling the waiter to pay for the
+dinner, "he is waiting for us in the passage; let us go."
+
+A young man dressed like a journeyman upholsterer was standing in the
+passage looking in at the shop-windows. He had long brown locks, and his
+mustache and eyebrows were coal-black. M. Plantat certainly did not
+recognize him as Palot, but M. Lecoq did, and even seemed dissatisfied
+with his get-up.
+
+"Bad," growled he, "pitiable. Do you think it is enough, in order to
+disguise yourself, to change the color of your beard? Look in that
+glass, and tell me if the expression of your face is not just what it
+was before? Aren't your eye and smile the same? Then your cap is too
+much on one side, it is not natural; and your hand is put in your pocket
+awkwardly."
+
+"I'll try to do better another time, Monsieur Lecoq," Palot modestly
+replied.
+
+"I hope so; but I guess your porter won't recognize you to-night, and
+that is all we want."
+
+"And now what must I do?"
+
+"I'll give you your orders; and be very careful not to blunder. First,
+hire a carriage, with a good horse; then go to the wine-shop for one of
+our men, who will accompany you to Monsieur Wilson's house. When you get
+there ring, enter alone and give the porter this letter, saying that it
+is of the utmost importance. This done, put yourself with your companion
+in ambuscade before the house. If Monsieur Wilson goes out--and he will
+go out or I am not Lecoq--send your comrade to me at once. As for you,
+you will follow Monsieur Wilson and not lose sight of him. He will take
+a carriage, and you will follow him with yours, getting up on the
+hackman's seat and keeping a lookout from there. Have your eyes open,
+for he is a rascal who may feel inclined to jump out of his cab and
+leave you in pursuit of an empty vehicle."
+
+"Yes, and the moment I am informed--"
+
+"Silence, please, when I am speaking. He will probably go to the
+upholsterer's in the Rue des Saints-Peres, but I may be mistaken. He may
+order himself to be carried to one of the railway stations, and may take
+the first train which leaves. In this case, you must get into the same
+railway carriage that he does, and follow him everywhere he goes; and be
+sure and send me a despatch as soon as you can."
+
+"Very well, Monsieur Lecoq; only if I have to take a train--"
+
+"What, haven't you any money?"
+
+"Well--no, my chief."
+
+"Then take this five-hundred-franc note; that's more than is necessary
+to make the tour of the world. Do you comprehend everything?"
+
+"I beg your pardon--what shall I do if Monsieur Wilson simply returns to
+his house?"
+
+"In that case I will finish with him. If he returns, you will come back
+with him, and the moment his cab stops before the house give two loud
+whistles, you know. Then wait for me in the street, taking care to
+retain your cab, which you will lend to Monsieur Plantat if he needs
+it."
+
+"All right," said Palot, who hastened off without more ado.
+
+M. Plantat and the detective, left alone, began to walk up and down the
+gallery; both were grave and silent, as men are at a decisive moment;
+there is no chatting about a gaming-table. M. Lecoq suddenly started; he
+had just seen his agent at the end of the gallery. His impatience was so
+great that he ran toward him, saying:
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Monsieur, the game has flown, and Palot after him!"
+
+"On foot or in a cab?"
+
+"In a cab."
+
+"Enough. Return to your comrades, and tell them to hold themselves
+ready."
+
+Everything was going as Lecoq wished, and he grasped the old justice's
+hand, when he was struck by the alteration in his features.
+
+"What, are you ill?" asked he, anxiously.
+
+"No, but I am fifty-five years old, Monsieur Lecoq, and at that age
+there are emotions which kill one. Look, I am trembling at the moment
+when I see my wishes being realized, and I feel as if a disappointment
+would be the death of me. I'm afraid, yes, I'm afraid. Ah, why can't I
+dispense with following you?"
+
+"But your presence is indispensable; without your help I can do
+nothing:"
+
+"What could I do?"
+
+"Save Laurence, Monsieur Plantat."
+
+This name restored a part of his courage.
+
+"If that is so--" said he. He began to walk firmly toward the street,
+but M. Lecoq stopped him.
+
+"Not yet," said the detective, "not yet; the battle now depends on the
+precision of our movements. A single fault miserably upsets all my
+combinations, and then I shall be forced to arrest and deliver up the
+criminal. We must have a ten minutes' interview with Mademoiselle
+Laurence, but not much more, and it is absolutely necessary that this
+interview should be suddenly interrupted by Tremorel's return. Let's
+make our calculations. It will take the rascal half an hour to go to the
+Rue des Saints-Peres, where he will find nobody; as long to get back;
+let us throw in fifteen minutes as a margin; in all, an hour and a
+quarter. There are forty minutes left us."
+
+M. Plantat did not reply, but his companion said that he could not stay
+so long on his feet after the fatigues of the day, agitated as he was,
+and having eaten nothing since the evening before. He led him into a
+neighboring cafe, and forced him to eat a biscuit and drink a glass of
+wine. Then seeing that conversation would be annoying to the unhappy old
+man, he took up an evening paper and soon seemed to be absorbed in the
+latest news from Germany. The old justice, his head leaning on the back
+of his chair and his eyes wandering over the ceiling, passed in mental
+review the events of the past four years. It seemed to him but yesterday
+that Laurence, still a child, ran up his garden-path and picked his
+roses and honeysuckles. How pretty she was, and how divine were her
+great eyes! Then, as it seemed, between dusk and dawn, as a rose blooms
+on a June night, the pretty child had become a sweet and radiant young
+girl. She was timid and reserved with all but him--was he not her old
+friend, the confidant of all her little griefs and her innocent hopes?
+How frank and pure she was then; what a heavenly ignorance of evil!
+
+Nine o'clock struck; M. Lecoq laid down his paper.
+
+"Let us go," said he.
+
+M. Plantat followed him with a firmer step, and they soon reached M.
+Wilson's house, accompanied by Job and his men.
+
+"You men," said M. Lecoq, "wait till I call before you go in; I will
+leave the door ajar."
+
+He rang; the door swung open; and M. Plantat and the detective went in
+under the arch. The porter was on the threshold of his lodge.
+
+"Monsieur Wilson?" asked M. Lecoq.
+
+"He is out."
+
+"I will speak to Madame, then."
+
+"She is also out."
+
+"Very well. Only, as I must positively speak with Madame Wilson, I'm
+going upstairs."
+
+The porter seemed about to resist him by force; but, as Lecoq now called
+in his men, he thought better of it and kept quiet.
+
+M. Lecoq posted six of his men in the court, in such a position that
+they could be easily seen from the windows on the first floor, and
+instructed the others to place themselves on the opposite sidewalk,
+telling them to look ostentatiously at the house. These measures taken,
+he returned to the porter.
+
+"Attend to me, my man. When your master, who has gone out, comes in
+again, beware that you don't tell him that we are upstairs; a single
+word would get you into terribly hot water--"
+
+"I am blind," he answered, "and deaf."
+
+"How many servants are there in the house?"
+
+"Three; but they have all gone out."
+
+The detective then took M. Plantat by the arm, and holding him firmly:
+
+"You see, my dear friend," said he, "the game is ours. Come along--and
+in Laurence's name, have courage!"
+
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+
+All M. Lecoq's anticipations were realized. Laurence was not dead, and
+her letter to her parents was an odious trick. It was really she who
+lived in the house as Mme. Wilson. How had the lovely young girl, so
+much beloved by the old justice, come to such a dreadful extremity? The
+logic of life, alas, fatally enchains all our determinations to each
+other. Often an indifferent action, little wrongful in itself, is the
+beginning of an atrocious crime. Each of our new resolutions depends
+upon those which have preceded it, and is their logical sequence just as
+the sum-total is the product of the added figures. Woe to him who, being
+seized with a dizziness at the brink of the abyss, does not fly as fast
+as possible, without turning his head; for soon, yielding to an
+irresistible attraction, he approaches, braves the danger, slips, and is
+lost. Whatever thereafter he does or attempts he will roll down the
+faster, until he reaches the very bottom of the gulf.
+
+Tremorel had by no means the implacable character of an assassin; he was
+only feeble and cowardly; yet he had committed abominable crimes. All
+his guilt came from the first feeling of envy with which he regarded
+Sauvresy, and which he had not taken the pains to subdue. Laurence,
+when, on the day that she became enamoured of Tremorel, she permitted
+him to press her hand, and kept it from her mother, was lost. The
+hand-pressure led to the pretence of suicide in order to fly with her
+lover. It might also lead to infanticide.
+
+Poor Laurence, when she was left alone by Hector's departure to the
+Faubourg St. Germain, on receiving M. Lecoq's letter, began to reflect
+upon the events of the past year. How unlooked-for and rapidly
+succeeding they had been! It seemed to her that she had been whirled
+along in a tempest, without a second to think or act freely. She asked
+herself if she were not a prey to some hideous nightmare, and if she
+should not presently awake in her pretty maidenly chamber at Orcival.
+Was it really she who was there in a strange house, dead to everyone,
+leaving behind a withered memory, reduced to live under a false name,
+without family or friends henceforth, or anyone in the world to help her
+feebleness, at the mercy of a fugitive like herself, who was free to
+break to-morrow the bonds of caprice which to-day bound him to her? Was
+it she, too, who was about to become a mother, and found herself
+suffering from the excessive misery of blushing for that maternity which
+is the pride of pure young wives? A thousand memories of her past life
+flocked through her brain and cruelly revived her despair. Her heart
+sank as she thought of her old friendships, of her mother, her sister,
+the pride of her innocence, and the pure joys of the home fireside.
+
+As she half reclined on a divan in Hector's library, she wept freely.
+She bewailed her life, broken at twenty, her lost youth, her vanished,
+once radiant hopes, the world's esteem, and her own self-respect, which
+she should never recover.
+
+Of a sudden the door was abruptly opened.
+
+Laurence thought it was Hector returned, and she hastily rose, passing
+her handkerchief across her face to try to conceal her tears.
+
+A man whom she did not know stood upon the threshold, respectfully
+bowing. She was afraid, for Tremorel had said to her many times within
+the past two days, "We are pursued; let us hide well;" and though it
+seemed to her that she had nothing to fear, she trembled without knowing
+why.
+
+"Who are you?" she asked, haughtily, "and who has admitted you here?
+What do you want?"
+
+M. Lecoq left nothing to chance or inspiration; he foresaw everything,
+and regulated affairs in real life as he would the scenes in a theatre.
+He expected this very natural indignation and these questions, and was
+prepared for them. The only reply he made was to step one side, thus
+revealing M. Plantat behind him.
+
+Laurence was so much overcome on recognizing her old friend, that, in
+spite of her resolution, she came near falling.
+
+"You!" she stammered; "you!"
+
+The old justice was, if possible, more agitated than Laurence. Was that
+really his Laurence there before him? Grief had done its work so well
+that she seemed old.
+
+"Why did you seek for me?" she resumed. "Why add another grief to my
+life? Ah, I told Hector that the letter he dictated to me would not be
+believed. There are misfortunes for which death is the only refuge."
+
+M. Plantat was about to reply, but Lecoq was determined to take the lead
+in the interview.
+
+"It is not you, Madame, that we seek," said he, "but Monsieur de
+Tremorel."
+
+"Hector! And why, if you please? Is he not free?"
+
+M. Lecoq hesitated before shocking the poor girl, who had been but too
+credulous in trusting to a scoundrel's oaths of fidelity. But he thought
+that the cruel truth is less harrowing than the suspense of intimations.
+
+"Monsieur de Tremorel," he answered, "has committed a great crime."
+
+"He! You lie, sir."
+
+The detective sorrowfully shook his head.
+
+"Unhappily I have told you the truth. Monsieur de Tremorel murdered his
+wife on Wednesday night. I am a detective and I have a warrant to arrest
+him."
+
+He thought this terrible charge would overwhelm Laurence; he was
+mistaken. She was thunderstruck, but she stood firm. The crime horrified
+her, but it did not seem to her entirely improbable, knowing as she did
+the hatred with which Hector was inspired by Bertha.
+
+"Well, perhaps he did," cried she, sublime in her energy and despair; "I
+am his accomplice, then--arrest me."
+
+This cry, which seemed to proceed from the most senseless passion,
+amazed the old justice, but did not surprise M. Lecoq.
+
+"No, Madame," he resumed, "you are not this man's accomplice. Besides,
+the murder of his wife is the least of his crimes. Do you know why he
+did not marry you? Because in concert with Bertha, he poisoned Monsieur
+Sauvresy, who saved his life and was his best friend. We have the proof
+of it."
+
+This was more than poor Laurence could bear; she staggered and fell upon
+a sofa. But she did not doubt the truth of what M. Lecoq said. This
+terrible revelation tore away the veil which, till then, had hidden the
+past from her. The poisoning of Sauvresy explained all Hector's conduct,
+his position, his fears, his promises, his lies, his hate, his
+recklessness, his marriage, his flight. Still she tried not to defend
+him, but to share the odium of his crimes.
+
+"I knew it," she stammered, in a voice broken by sobs, "I knew it all."
+
+The old justice was in despair.
+
+"How you love him, poor child!" murmured he.
+
+This mournful exclamation restored to Laurence all her energy; she made
+an effort and rose, her eyes glittering with indignation:
+
+"I love him!" cried she. "I! Ah, I can explain my conduct to you, my old
+friend, for you are worthy of hearing it. Yes, I did love him, it is
+true--loved him to the forgetfulness of duty, to self-abandonment. But
+one day he showed himself to me as he was; I judged him, and my love did
+not survive my contempt. I was ignorant of Sauvresy's horrible death.
+Hector confessed to me that his life and honor were in Bertha's
+hands--and that she loved him. I left him free to abandon me, to marry,
+thus sacrificing more than my life to what I thought was his happiness;
+yet I was not deceived. When I fled with him I once more sacrificed
+myself, when I saw that it was impossible to conceal my shame. I wanted
+to die. I lived, and wrote an infamous letter to my mother, and yielded
+to Hector's prayers, because he pleaded with me in the name of my--of
+our child!"
+
+M. Lecoq, impatient at the loss of time, tried to say something; but
+Laurence would not listen to him.
+
+"But what matter?" she continued. "I loved him, followed him, and am
+his! Constancy at all hazards is the only excuse for a fault like mine.
+I will do my duty. I cannot be innocent when Hector has committed a
+crime; I desire to suffer half the punishment."
+
+She spoke with such remarkable animation that the detective despaired of
+calming her, when two whistles in the street struck his ear. Tremorel
+was returning and there was not a moment to be lost. He suddenly seized
+Laurence by the arm.
+
+"You will tell all this to the judges, Madame," said he, sternly. "My
+orders are only for M. de Tremorel. Here is the warrant to arrest him."
+
+He took out the warrant and laid it upon the table. Laurence, by the
+force of her will, had become almost calm.
+
+"You will let me speak five minutes with the Count de Tremorel, will you
+not?" she asked.
+
+M. Lecoq was delighted; he had looked for this request, and expected it.
+
+"Five minutes? Yes," he replied. "But abandon all hope, Madame, of
+saving the prisoner; the house is watched; if you look in the court and
+in the street you will see my men in ambuscade. Besides, I am going to
+stay here in the next room."
+
+The count was heard ascending the stairs.
+
+"There's Hector!" cried Laurence, "quick, quick! conceal yourselves!"
+
+She added, as they were retiring, in a low tone, but not so low as to
+prevent the detective from hearing her:
+
+"Be sure, we will not try to escape."
+
+She let the door-curtain drop; it was time. Hector entered. He was paler
+than death, and his eyes had a fearful, wandering expression.
+
+"We are lost!" said he, "they are pursuing us. See, this letter which I
+received just now is not from the man whose signature it professes to
+bear; he told me so himself. Come, let us go, let us leave this house--"
+
+Laurence overwhelmed him with a look full of hate and contempt, and
+said:
+
+"It is too late."
+
+Her countenance and voice were so strange that Tremorel, despite his
+distress, was struck by it, and asked:
+
+"What is the matter?"
+
+"Everything is known; it is known that you killed your wife."
+
+"It's false!"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Well, then, it is true," he added, "for I loved you so--"
+
+"Really! And it was for love of me that you poisoned Sauvresy?"
+
+He saw that he was discovered, that he had been caught in a trap, that
+they had come, in his absence, and told Laurence all. He did not attempt
+to deny anything.
+
+"What shall I do?" cried he, "what shall I do?"
+
+Laurence drew him to her, and muttered in a shuddering voice:
+
+"Save the name of Tremorel; there are pistols here."
+
+He recoiled, as if he had seen death itself.
+
+"No," said he. "I can yet fly and conceal myself; I will go alone, and
+you can rejoin me afterward."
+
+"I have already told you that it is too late. The police have surrounded
+the house. And--you know--it is the galleys, or--the scaffold!"
+
+"I can get away by the courtyard."
+
+"It is guarded; look."
+
+He ran to the window, saw M. Lecoq's men, and returned half mad and
+hideous with terror.
+
+"I can at least try," said he, "by disguising myself--"
+
+"Fool! A detective is in there, and it was he who left that warrant to
+arrest you on the table."
+
+He saw that he was lost beyond hope.
+
+"Must I die, then?" he muttered.
+
+"Yes, you must; but before you die write a confession of your crimes,
+for the innocent may be suspected--"
+
+He sat down mechanically, took the pen which Laurence held out to him,
+and wrote:
+
+"Being about to appear before God, I declare that I alone, and without
+accomplices, poisoned Sauvresy and murdered the Countess de Tremorel, my
+wife."
+
+When he had signed and dated this, Laurence opened a bureau drawer;
+Hector seized one of the brace of pistols which were lying in it, and
+she took the other. But Tremorel, as before at the hotel, and then in
+the dying Sauvresy's chamber, felt his heart fail him as he placed the
+pistol against his forehead. He was livid, his teeth chattered, and he
+trembled so violently that he let the pistol drop.
+
+"Laurence, my love," he stammered, "what will--become of you?"
+
+"Me! I have sworn that I will follow you always and everywhere. Do you
+understand?"
+
+"Ah, 'tis horrible!" said he. "It was not I who poisoned Sauvresy--it
+was she--there are proofs of it; perhaps, with a good advocate--"
+
+M. Lecoq did not lose a word or a gesture of this tragical scene. Either
+purposely or by accident, he pushed the door-curtain, which made a
+slight noise.
+
+Laurence thought the door was being opened, that the detective was
+returning, and that Hector would fall alive into their hands.
+
+"Miserable coward!" she cried, pointing her pistol at him, "shoot, or
+else--"
+
+He hesitated; there was another rustle at the door; she fired.
+
+Tremorel fell dead.
+
+Laurence, with a rapid movement, took up the other pistol, and was
+turning it against herself, when M. Lecoq sprung upon her and tore the
+weapon from her grasp.
+
+"Unhappy girl!" cried he, "what would you do?"
+
+"Die. Can I live now?"
+
+"Yes, you can live," responded M. Lecoq. "And more, you ought to live."
+
+"I am a lost woman--"
+
+"No, you are a poor child lured away by a wretch. You say you are very
+guilty; perhaps so; live to repent of it. Great sorrows like yours have
+their missions in this world, one of devotion and charity. Live, and the
+good you do will attach you once more to life. You have yielded to the
+deceitful promises of a villain. Remember, when you are rich, that there
+are poor innocent girls forced to lead a life of miserable shame for a
+morsel of bread. Go to these unhappy creatures, rescue them from
+debauchery, and their honor will be yours."
+
+M. Lecoq narrowly watched Laurence as he spoke, and perceived that he
+had touched her. Still, her eyes were dry, and were lit up with a
+strange light.
+
+"Besides, your life is not your own--you know."
+
+"Ah," she returned, "I must die now, even for my child, if I would not
+die of shame when he asks for his father--"
+
+"You will reply, Madame, by showing him an honest man and an old friend,
+who is ready to give him his name--Monsieur Plantat."
+
+The old justice was broken with grief; yet he had the strength to say:
+
+"Laurence, my beloved child, I beg you accept me--"
+
+These simple words, pronounced with infinite gentleness and sweetness,
+at last melted the unhappy young girl, and determined her. She burst
+into tears.
+
+She was saved.
+
+M. Lecoq hastened to throw a shawl which he saw on a chair about her
+shoulders, and passed her arm through M. Plantat's, saying to the
+latter:
+
+"Go, lead her away; my men have orders to let you pass, and Palot will
+lend you his carriage."
+
+"But where shall we go?"
+
+"To Orcival; Monsieur Courtois has been informed by a letter from me
+that his daughter is living, and he is expecting her. Come, lose no
+time."
+
+M. Lecoq, when he was left alone, listened to the departure of the
+carriage which took M. Plantat and Laurence away; then he returned to
+Tremorel's body.
+
+"There," said he to himself, "lies a wretch whom I have killed instead
+of arresting and delivering him up to justice. Have I done my duty? No;
+but my conscience will not reproach me, because I have acted rightly."
+
+And running to the staircase, he called his men.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+
+The day after Tremorel's death, old Bertaud and Guespin were set at
+liberty, and received, the former four thousand francs to buy a boat and
+new tackle, and the latter ten thousand francs, with a promise of a like
+sum at the end of the year, if he would go and live in his own province.
+Fifteen days later, to the great surprise of the Orcival gossips, who
+had never learned the details of these events, M. Plantat wedded Mlle.
+Laurence Courtois; and the groom and bride departed that very evening
+for Italy, where it was announced they would linger at least a year.
+
+As for Papa Courtois, he has offered his beautiful domain at Orcival for
+sale; he proposes to settle in the middle of France, and is on the
+lookout for a commune in need of a good mayor.
+
+M. Lecoq, like everybody else, would, doubtless, have forgotten the
+Valfeuillu affair, had it not been that a notary called on him
+personally the other morning with a very gracious letter from Laurence,
+and an enormous sheet of stamped paper. This was no other than a title
+deed to M. Plantat's pretty estate at Orcival, "with furniture, stable,
+carriage-house, garden, and other dependencies and appurtenances
+thereunto belonging," and some neighboring acres of pleasant fields.
+
+"Prodigious!" cried M. Lecoq. "I didn't help ingrates, after all! I am
+willing to become a landed proprietor, just for the rarity of the
+thing."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Mystery of Orcival, by Emile Gaboriau
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTERY OF ORCIVAL ***
+
+***** This file should be named 1651.txt or 1651.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
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