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diff --git a/old/34931-8.txt b/old/34931-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 72f7300..0000000 --- a/old/34931-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10546 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Woman of Mystery, by Maurice Leblanc - -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 Woman of Mystery - -Author: Maurice Leblanc - -Illustrator: Albert Matzke - -Release Date: January 13, 2011 [EBook #34931] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY *** - - - - -Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -[Illustration: Unmasked and helpless, she maintained an attitude of -challenge and defiance] - - - - -THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY - -BY MAURICE LEBLANC - -AUTHOR OF "CONFESSIONS OF ARSÈNE LUPIN," -"THE TEETH OF THE TIGER," ETC. - -NEW YORK -THE MACAULAY COMPANY - -COPYRIGHT, 1916. - -BY THE MACAULAY COMPANY - - - - - -CONTENTS - -CHAPTER PAGE -I. THE MURDER 9 -II. THE LOCKED ROOM 23 -III. THE CALL TO ARMS 39 -IV. A LETTER FROM ÉLISABETH 59 -V. THE PEASANT-WOMAN AT CORVIGNY 77 -VI. WHAT PAUL SAW AT ORNEQUIN 94 -VII. H. E. R. M. 108 -VIII. ÉLISABETH'S DIARY 126 -IX. A SPRIG OF EMPIRE 141 -X. 75 OR 155? 156 -XI. "YSERY, MISERY" 167 -XII. MAJOR HERMANN 182 -XIII. THE FERRYMAN'S HOUSE 198 -XIV. A MASTERPIECE OF KULTUR 220 -XV. PRINCE CONRAD MAKES MERRY 236 -XVI. THE IMPOSSIBLE STRUGGLE 258 -XVII. THE LAW OF THE CONQUEROR 277 -XVIII. HILL 132 292 -XIX. HOHENZOLLERN 310 -XX. THE DEATH PENALTY--AND A CAPITAL PUNISHMENT 330 - - - - -THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY - - -CHAPTER I - -THE MURDER - - -"Suppose I were to tell you," said Paul Delroze, "that I once stood face -to face with him on French. . . ." - -Élisabeth looked up at him with the fond expression of a bride to whom -the least word of the man she loves is a subject of wonder: - -"You have seen William II. in France?" - -"Saw him with my own eyes; and I have never forgotten a single one of -the details that marked the meeting. And yet it happened very long ago." - -He was speaking with a sudden seriousness, as though the revival of that -memory had awakened the most painful thoughts in his mind. - -"Tell me about it, won't you, Paul?" asked Élisabeth. - -"Yes, I will," he said. "In any case, though I was only a child at the -time, the incident played so tragic a part in my life that I am bound -to tell you the whole story." - -The train stopped and they got out at Corvigny, the last station on the -local branch line which, starting from the chief town in the department, -runs through the Liseron Valley and ends, fifteen miles from the -frontier, at the foot of the little Lorraine city which Vauban, as he -tells us in his "Memoirs," surrounded "with the most perfect demilunes -imaginable." - -The railway-station presented an appearance of unusual animation. There -were numbers of soldiers, including many officers. A crowd of -passengers--tradespeople, peasants, workmen and visitors to the -neighboring health-resorts served by Corvigny--stood amid piles of -luggage on the platform, awaiting the departure of the next train for -the junction. - -It was the last Thursday in July, the Thursday before the mobilization -of the French army. - -Élisabeth pressed up against her husband: - -"Oh, Paul," she said, shivering with anxiety, "if only we don't have -war!" - -"War! What an idea!" - -"But look at all these people leaving, all these families running away -from the frontier!" - -"That proves nothing." - -"No, but you saw it in the paper just now. The news is very bad. Germany -is preparing for war. She has planned the whole thing. . . . Oh, Paul, -if we were to be separated! . . . I should know nothing about you . . . -and you might be wounded . . . and . . ." - -He squeezed her hand: - -"Don't be afraid, Élisabeth. Nothing of the kind will happen. There -can't be war unless somebody declares it. And who would be fool enough, -criminal enough, to do anything so abominable?" - -"I am not afraid," she said, "and I am sure that I should be very brave -if you had to go. Only . . . only it would be worse for us than for -anybody else. Just think, darling: we were only married this morning!" - -At this reference to their wedding of a few hours ago, containing so -great a promise of deep and lasting joy, her charming face lit up, under -its halo of golden curls, with a smile of utter trustfulness; and she -whispered: - -"Married this morning, Paul! . . . So you can understand that my load of -happiness is not yet very heavy." - -There was a movement among the crowd. Everybody gathered around the -exit. A general officer, accompanied by two aides-de-camp, stepped out -into the station-yard, where a motor-car stood waiting for him. The -strains were heard of a military band; a battalion of light infantry -marched down the road. Next came a team of sixteen horses, driven by -artillery-men and dragging an enormous siege-piece which, in spite of -the weight of its carriage, looked light, because of the extreme length -of the gun. A herd of bullocks followed. - -Paul, who was unable to find a porter, was standing on the pavement, -carrying the two traveling-bags, when a man in leather gaiters, green -velveteen breeches and a shooting-jacket with horn buttons, came up to -him and raised his cap: - -"M. Paul Delroze?" he said. "I am the keeper at the château." - -He had a powerful, open face, a skin hardened by exposure to the sun and -the cold, hair that was already turning gray and that rather uncouth -manner often displayed by old servants whose place allows them a certain -degree of independence. For seventeen years he had lived on the great -estate of Ornequin, above Corvigny, and managed it for Élisabeth's -father, the Comte d'Andeville. - -"Ah, so you're Jérôme?" cried Paul. "Good! I see you had the Comte -d'Andeville's letter. Have our servants come?" - -"They arrived this morning, sir, the three of them; and they have been -helping my wife and me to tidy up the house and make it ready to receive -the master and the mistress." - -He took off his cap again to Élisabeth, who said: - -"Then you remember me, Jérôme? It is so long since I was here!" - -"Mlle. Élisabeth was four years old then. It was a real sorrow for my -wife and me when we heard that you would not come back to the house -. . . nor Monsieur le Comte either, because of his poor dead wife. So -Monsieur le Comte does not mean to pay us a little visit this year?" - -"No, Jérôme, I don't think so. Though it is so many years ago, my father -is still very unhappy." - -Jérôme took the bags and placed them in a fly which he had ordered at -Corvigny. The heavy luggage was to follow in the farm-cart. - -It was a fine day and Paul told them to lower the hood. Then he and his -wife took their seats. - -"It's not a very long drive," said the keeper. "Under ten miles. But -it's up-hill all the way." - -"Is the house more or less fit to live in?" asked Paul. - -"Well, it's not like a house that has been lived in; but you'll see for -yourself, sir. We've done the best we could. My wife is so pleased that -you and the mistress are coming! You'll find her waiting for her at the -foot of the steps. I told her that you would be there between half-past -six and seven. . . ." - -The fly drove off. - -"He seems a decent sort of man," said Paul to Élisabeth, "but he can't -have much opportunity for talking. He's making up for lost time." - -The street climbed the steep slope of the Corvigny hills and -constituted, between two rows of shops, hotels and public buildings, the -main artery of the town, blocked on this day with unaccustomed traffic. -Then it dipped and skirted Vauban's ancient bastions. Next came a -switchback road across a plain commanded on the right and left by the -two forts known as the Petit and the Grand Jonas. - -As they drove along this winding road, which meandered through fields of -oats and wheat beneath the leafy vault formed overhead by the -close-ranked poplars, Paul Delroze came back to the episode of his -childhood which he had promised to tell to Élisabeth: - -"As I said, Élisabeth, the incident is connected with a terrible -tragedy, so closely connected that the two form only one episode in my -memory. The tragedy was much talked about at the time; and your father, -who was a friend of my father's, as you know, heard of it through the -newspapers. The reason why he did not mention it to you was that I asked -him not to, because I wanted to be the first to tell you of events . . . -so painful to myself." - -Their hands met and clasped. He knew that every one of his words would -find a ready listener; and, after a brief pause, he continued: - -"My father was one of those men who compel the sympathy and even the -affection of all who know them. He had a generous, enthusiastic, -attractive nature and an unfailing good-humor, took a passionate -interest in any fine cause and any fine spectacle, loved life and -enjoyed it with a sort of precipitate haste. He enlisted in 1870 as a -volunteer, earned his lieutenant's commission on the battlefield and -found the soldier's heroic existence so well suited to his tastes that -he volunteered a second time for Tonkin, and a third to take part in -the conquest of Madagascar. . . . On his return from this campaign, in -which he was promoted to captain and received the Legion of Honor, he -married. Six years later he was a widower." - -"You were like me, Paul," said Élisabeth. "You hardly enjoyed the -happiness of knowing your mother." - -"No, for I was only four years old. But my father, who felt my mother's -death most cruelly, bestowed all his affection upon me. He made a point -of personally giving me my early education. He left nothing undone to -perfect my physical training and to make a strong and plucky lad of me. -I loved him with all my heart. To this day I cannot think of him without -genuine emotion. . . . When I was eleven years old, I accompanied him on -a journey through France, which he had put off for years because he -wanted me to take it with him at an age when I could understand its full -meaning. It was a pilgrimage to the identical places and along the roads -where he had fought during the terrible year." - -"Did your father believe in the possibility of another war?" - -"Yes; and he wanted to prepare me for it. 'Paul,' he said, 'I have no -doubt that one day you will be facing the same enemy whom I fought -against. From this moment pay no attention to any fine words of peace -that you may hear, but hate that enemy with all the hatred of which you -are capable. Whatever people may say, he is a barbarian, a -vain-glorious, bloodthirsty brute, a beast of prey. He crushed us once -and he will not rest content until he has crushed us again and, this -time, for good. When that day comes, Paul, remember all the journeys -which we have made together. Those which you will take will mark so many -triumphant stages, I am sure of it. But never forget the names of these -places, Paul; never let your joy in victory wipe out their names of -sorrow and humiliation: Froeschwiller, Mars-la-Tour, Saint-Privat and -the rest. Mind, Paul, and remember!' And he then smiled. 'But why should -I trouble? He himself, the enemy, will make it his business to arouse -hatred in the hearts of those who have forgotten and those who have not -seen. Can he change? Not he! You'll see, Paul, you'll see. Nothing that -I can say to you will equal the terrible reality. They are monsters.'" - -Paul Delroze ceased. His wife asked him a little timidly: - -"Do you think your father was absolutely right?" - -"He may have been influenced by cruel recollections that were too recent -in his memory. I have traveled a good deal in Germany, I have even lived -there, and I believe that the state of men's minds has altered. I -confess, therefore, that I sometimes find a difficulty in understanding -my father's words. And yet . . . and yet they very often disturb me. And -then what happened afterwards is so inexplicable." - -The carriage had slackened its pace. The road was rising slowly towards -the hills that overhang the Liseron Valley. The sun was setting in the -direction of Corvigny. They passed a diligence, laden with trunks, and -two motor cars crowded with passengers and luggage. A picket of cavalry -galloped across the fields. - -"Let's get out and walk," said Paul Delroze. - -They followed the carriage on foot; and Paul continued: - -"The rest of what I have to tell you, Élisabeth, stands out in my memory -in very precise details, that seem to emerge as though from a thick fog -in which I cannot see a thing. For instance, I just know that, after -this part of our journey, we were to go from Strasburg to the Black -Forest. Why our plans were changed I cannot tell. . . . I can see myself -one morning in the station at Strasburg, stepping into the train for the -Vosges . . . yes, for the Vosges. . . . My father kept on reading a -letter which he had just received and which seemed to gratify him. The -letter may have affected his arrangements; I don't know. We lunched in -the train. There was a storm brewing, it was very hot and I fell asleep, -so that all I can remember is a little German town where we hired two -bicycles and left our bags in the cloak-room. It's all very vague in my -mind. We rode across the country." - -"But don't you remember what the country was like?" - -"No, all I know is that suddenly my father said: 'There, Paul, we're -crossing the frontier; we're in France now.' Later on--I can't say how -long after--he stopped to ask his road of a peasant, who showed him a -short-cut through the woods. But the road and the short-cut are nothing -more in my mind than an impenetrable darkness in which my thoughts are -buried. . . . Then, all of a sudden, the darkness is rent and I see, -with astonishing plainness, a glade in the wood, tall trees, velvety -moss and an old chapel. And the rain falls in great, thick drops, and my -father says, 'Let's take shelter, Paul.' Oh, how I remember the sound of -his voice and how exactly I picture the little chapel, with its walls -green with damp! We went and put our bicycles under shelter at the back, -where the roof projected a little way beyond the choir. Just then the -sound of a conversation reached us from the inside and we heard the -grating of a door that opened round the corner. Some one came out and -said, in German, 'There's no one here. Let us make haste.' At that -moment we were coming round the chapel, intending to go in by this side -door; and it so happened that my father, who was leading the way, -suddenly found himself in the presence of the man who had spoken in -German. Both of them stepped back, the stranger apparently very much -annoyed and my father astounded at the unexpected meeting. For a second -or two, perhaps, they stood looking at each other without moving. I -heard my father say, under his breath, 'Is it possible? The Emperor?' -And I myself, surprised as I was at the words, had not a doubt of it, -for I had often seen the Kaiser's portrait; the man in front of us was -the German Emperor." - -"The German Emperor?" echoed Élisabeth. "You can't mean that!" - -"Yes, the Emperor in France! He quickly lowered his head and turned the -velvet collar of his great, flowing cape right up to the brim of his -hat, which was pulled down over his eyes. He looked towards the chapel. -A lady came out, followed by a man whom I hardly saw, a sort of servant. -The lady was tall, a young woman still, dark and rather good-looking. -. . . The Emperor seized her arm with absolute violence and dragged her -away, uttering angry words which we were unable to hear. They took the -road by which we had come, the road leading to the frontier. The servant -had hurried into the woods and was walking on ahead. 'This really is a -queer adventure,' said my father, laughing. 'What on earth is William -doing here? Taking the risk in broad daylight, too! I wonder if the -chapel possesses some artistic interest. Come and see, Paul.' . . . We -went in. A dim light made its way through a window black with dust and -cobwebs. But this dim light was enough to show us some stunted pillars -and bare walls and not a thing that seemed to deserve the honor of an -imperial visit, as my father put it, adding, 'It's quite clear that -William came here as a tripper, at hazard, and that he is very cross at -having his escapade discovered. I expect the lady who was with him told -him that he was running no danger. That would account for his irritation -and his reproaches.'" - -Paul broke off again. Élisabeth nestled up against him timidly. -Presently he continued: - -"It's curious, isn't it, Élisabeth, that all these little details, which -really were comparatively unimportant for a boy of my age, should have -been recorded faithfully in my mind, whereas so many other and much more -essential facts have left no trace at all. However, I am telling you all -this just as if I still had it before my eyes and as if the words were -still sounding in my ears. And at this very moment I can see, as plainly -as I saw her at the moment when we left the chapel, the Emperor's -companion coming back and crossing the glade with a hurried step; and I -can hear her say to my father, 'May I ask a favor of you, monsieur?' She -had been running and was out of breath, but did not wait for him to -answer and at once added, 'The gentleman you saw would like to speak to -you.' This was said in perfect French without the least accent. . . . My -father hesitated. But his hesitation seemed to shock her as though it -were an unspeakable offense against the person who had sent her; and she -said, in a harsher tone, 'Surely you do not mean to refuse!' 'Why not?' -said my father, with obvious impatience. 'I am not here to receive -orders.' She restrained herself and said, 'It is not an order, it is a -wish.' 'Very well,' said my father, 'I will agree to the interview. I -will wait for your friend here.' She seemed shocked. 'No, no,' she -said, 'you must . . .' 'I must put myself out, must I?' cried my father, -in a loud voice. 'You expect me to cross the frontier to where somebody -is condescending to expect me? I am sorry, madam, but I will not consent -to that. Tell your friend that if he fears an indiscretion on my part he -can set his mind at rest. Come along, Paul.' He took off his hat to the -lady and bowed. But she barred his way: 'No, no,' she said, 'you must do -what I ask. What is a promise of discretion worth? The thing must be -settled one way or the other; and you yourself will admit. . . .' Those -were the last words I heard. She was standing opposite my father in a -violent and hostile attitude. Her face was distorted with an expression -of fierceness that terrified me. Oh, why did I not foresee what was -going to happen? . . . But I was so young! And it all came so quickly! -. . . She walked up to my father and, so to speak, forced him back to -the foot of a large tree, on the right of the chapel. They raised their -voices. She made a threatening gesture. He began to laugh. And suddenly, -immediately, she whipped out a knife--I can see the blade now, flashing -through the darkness--and stabbed him in the chest, twice . . . twice, -there, full in the chest. My father fell to the ground." - -Paul Delroze stopped, pale with the memory of the crime. - -"Oh," faltered Élisabeth, "your father was murdered? . . . My poor -Paul, my poor darling!" And in a voice of anguish she asked, "What -happened next, Paul? Did you cry out?" - -"I shouted, I rushed towards him, but a hand caught me in an -irresistible grip. It was the man, the servant, who had darted out of -the woods and seized me. I saw his knife raised above my head. I felt a -terrible blow on my shoulder. Then I also fell." - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE LOCKED ROOM - - -The carriage stood waiting for them a little way ahead. They had sat -down by the roadside on reaching the upland at the top of the ascent. -The green, undulating valley of the Liseron opened up before them, with -its little winding river escorted by two white roads which followed its -every turn. Behind them, under the setting sun, some three hundred feet -below, lay the clustering mass of Corvigny. Two miles in front of them -rose the turrets of Ornequin and the ruins of the old castle. - -Terrified by Paul's story, Élisabeth was silent for a time. Then she -said: - -"Oh, Paul, how terrible it all is! Were you very badly hurt?" - -"I can remember nothing until the day when I woke up in a room which I -did not know and saw a nun and an old lady, a cousin of my father's, who -were nursing me. It was the best room of an inn somewhere between -Belfort and the frontier. Twelve days before, at a very early hour in -the morning, the innkeeper had found two bodies, all covered with blood, -which had been laid there during the night. One of the bodies was quite -cold. It was my poor father's. I was still breathing, but very slightly. -. . . I had a long convalescence, interrupted by relapses and fits of -delirium, in which I tried to make my escape. My old cousin, the only -relation I had left, showed me the most wonderful and devoted kindness. -Two months later she took me home with her. I was very nearly cured of -my wound, but so greatly affected by my father's death and by the -frightful circumstances surrounding it that it was several years before -I recovered my health completely. As to the tragedy itself. . . ." - -"Well?" asked Élisabeth, throwing her arm round her husband's neck, with -an eager movement of protection. - -"Well, they never succeeded in fathoming the mystery. And yet the police -conducted their investigations zealously and scrupulously, trying to -verify the only information which they were able to employ, that which I -gave them. All their efforts failed. You know, my information was very -vague. Apart from what had happened in the glade and in front of the -chapel, I knew nothing. I could not tell them where to find the chapel, -nor where to look for it, nor in what part of the country the tragedy -had occurred." - -"But still you had taken a journey, you and your father, to reach that -part of the country; and it seems to me that, by tracing your road back -to your departure from Strasburg. . . ." - -"Well, of course they did their best to follow up that track; and the -French police, not content with calling in the aid of the German police, -sent their shrewdest detectives to the spot. But this is exactly what -afterwards, when I was of an age to think out things, struck me as so -strange: not a single trace was found of our stay at Strasburg. You -quite understand? Not a trace of any kind. Now, if there was one thing -of which I was absolutely certain, it was that we had spent at least two -days and nights at Strasburg. The magistrate who had the case in hand, -looking upon me as a child and one who had been badly knocked about and -upset, came to the conclusion that my memory must be at fault. But I -knew that this was not so; I knew it then and I know it still." - -"What then, Paul?" - -"Well, I cannot help seeing a connection between the total elimination -of undeniable facts--facts easily checked or reconstructed, such as the -visit of a Frenchman and his son to Strasburg, their railway journey, -the leaving of their luggage in the cloak-room of a town in Alsace, the -hiring of a couple of bicycles--and this main fact, that the Emperor was -directly, yes, directly mixed up in the business." - -"But this connection must have been as obvious to the magistrate's mind -as to yours, Paul." - -"No doubt; but neither the examining magistrate nor any of his -colleagues and the other officials who took my evidence was willing to -admit the Emperor's presence in Alsace on that day." - -"Why not?" - -"Because the German newspapers stated that he was in Frankfort at that -very hour." - -"In Frankfort?" - -"Of course, he is stated to be wherever he commands and never at a place -where he does not wish his presence known. At any rate, on this point -also I was accused of being in error and the inquiry was thwarted by an -assemblage of obstacles, impossibilities, lies and alibis which, to my -mind, revealed the continuous and all-powerful action of an unlimited -authority. There is no other explanation. Just think: how can two French -subjects put up at a Strasburg hotel without having their names entered -in the visitors' book? Well, whether because the book was destroyed or a -page torn out, no record whatever of the names was found. So there was -one proof, one clue gone. As for the hotel proprietor and waiters, the -railway booking clerks and porters, the man who owned the bicycles: -these were so many subordinates, so many accomplices, all of whom -received orders to be silent; and not one of them disobeyed." - -"But afterwards, Paul, you must have made your own search?" - -"I should think I did! Four times since I came of age I have been over -the whole frontier from Switzerland to Luxemburg, from Belfort to -Longwy, questioning the inhabitants, studying the country. I have spent -hours and hours in cudgeling my brains in the vain hope of extracting -the slightest recollection that would have given me a gleam of light. -But all without result. There was not one fresh glimmer amid all that -darkness. Only three pictures showed through the dense fog of the past, -pictures of the place and the things which witnessed the crime: the -trees in the glade, the old chapel and the path leading through the -woods. And then there was the figure of the Emperor and . . . the figure -of the woman who killed my father." - -Paul had lowered his voice. His face was distorted with grief and -loathing. - -"As for her," he went on, "if I live to be a hundred, I shall see her -before my eyes as something standing out in all its details under the -full light of day. The shape of her lips, the expression of her eyes, -the color of her hair, the special character of her walk, the rhythm of -her movements, the outline of her body: all this is recorded within -myself, not as a vision which I summon up at will, but as something that -forms part of my very being. It is as though, during my delirium, all -the mysterious powers of my brain had collaborated to assimilate -entirely those hateful memories. There was a time when all this was a -morbid obsession: nowadays, I suffer only at certain hours, when the -night is coming in and I am alone. My father was murdered; and the woman -who murdered him is alive, unpunished, happy, rich, honored, pursuing -her work of hatred and destruction." - -"Would you know her again if you saw her, Paul?" - -"Would I know her again! I should know her among a thousand. Even if she -were disfigured by age, I should discover in the wrinkles of the old -woman that she had become the face of the younger woman who stabbed my -father to death on that September evening. Know her again! Why, I -noticed the very shade of the dress she wore! It seems incredible, but -there it is. A gray dress, with a black lace scarf over the shoulders; -and here, in the bodice, by way of a brooch, a heavy cameo, set in a -gold snake with ruby eyes. You see, Élisabeth, I have not forgotten and -I never shall forget." - -He ceased. Élisabeth was crying. The past which her husband had revealed -to her was filling her with the same sense of horror and bitterness. He -drew her to him and kissed her on the forehead. - -"You are right not to forget," she said. "The murder will be punished -because it has to be punished. But you must not let your life be subject -to these memories of hatred. There are two of us now and we love each -other. Let us look towards the future." - - * * * * * - -The Château d'Ornequin is a handsome sixteenth century building of -simple design, with four peaked turrets, tall windows with denticulated -pinnacles and a light balustrade projecting above the first story. The -esplanade is formed by well-kept lawns which surround the courtyard and -lead on the right and left to gardens, woods and orchards. One side of -these lawns ends in a broad terrace overlooking the valley of the -Liseron. On this terrace, in a line with the house, stand the majestic -ruins of a four-square castle-keep. - -The whole wears a very stately air. The estate, surrounded by farms and -fields, demands active and careful working for its maintenance. It is -one of the largest in the department. - -Seventeen years before, at the sale held upon the death of the last -Baron d'Ornequin, Élisabeth's father, the Comte d'Andeville, bought it -at his wife's desire. He had been married for five years and had -resigned his commission in the cavalry in order to devote himself -entirely to the woman he loved. A chance journey brought them to -Ornequin just as the sale, which had hardly been advertised in the local -press, was about to be held. Hermine d'Andeville fell in love with the -house and the domain; and the Count, who was looking for an estate whose -management would occupy his spare time effected the purchase through his -lawyer by private treaty. - -During the winter that followed, he directed from Paris the work of -restoration which was necessitated by the state of disrepair in which -the former owner had left the house. M. d'Andeville wished it to be not -only comfortable but also elegant; and, little by little, he sent down -all the tapestries, pictures, objects of art and knicknacks that -adorned his house in Paris. - -They were not able to take up their residence until August. They then -spent a few delightful weeks with their dear Élisabeth, at this time -four years old, and their son, Bernard, a lusty boy to whom the Countess -had given birth that same year. Hermine d'Andeville was devoted to her -children and never went beyond the confines of the park. The Count -looked after his farms and shot over his coverts, accompanied by Jérôme, -his gamekeeper, a worthy Alsatian, who had been in the late owner's -service and who knew every yard of the estate. - -At the end of October, the Countess took cold; the illness that followed -was pretty serious; and the Comte d'Andeville decided to take her and -the children to the south. A fortnight later she had a relapse; and in -three days she was dead. - -The Count experienced the despair which makes a man feel that life is -over and that, whatever happens, he will never again know the sense of -joy nor even an alleviation of any sort. He lived not so much for the -sake of his children as to cherish within himself the cult of her whom -he had lost and to perpetuate a memory which now became the sole reason -of his existence. - -He was unable to return to the Château d'Ornequin, where he had known -too perfect a happiness; on the other hand, he would not have strangers -live there; and he ordered Jérôme to keep the doors and shutters closed -and to lock up the Countess' boudoir and bedroom in such a way that no -one could ever enter. Jérôme was also to let the farms and to collect -the tenants' rents. - -This break with the past was not enough to satisfy the Count. It seems -strange in a man who existed only for the sake of his wife's memory, but -everything that reminded him of her--familiar objects, domestic -surroundings, places and landscapes--became a torture to him; and his -very children filled him with a sense of discomfort which he was unable -to overcome. He had an elder sister, a widow, living in the country, at -Chaumont. He placed his daughter Élisabeth and his son Bernard in her -charge and went abroad. - -Aunt Aline was the most devoted and unselfish of women; and under her -care Élisabeth enjoyed a grave, studious and affectionate childhood in -which her heart developed together with her mind and her character. She -received the education almost of a boy, together with a strong moral -discipline. At the age of twenty, she had grown into a tall, capable, -fearless girl, whose face, inclined by nature to be melancholy, -sometimes lit up with the fondest and most innocent of smiles. It was -one of those faces which reveal beforehand the pangs and raptures held -in store by fate. The tears were never far from her eyes, which seemed -as though troubled by the spectacle of life. Her hair, with its bright -curls, lent a certain gaiety to her appearance. - -At each visit that the Comte d'Andeville paid his daughter between his -wanderings he fell more and more under her charm. He took her one winter -to Spain and the next to Italy. It was in this way that she became -acquainted with Paul Delroze at Rome and met him again at Naples and -Syracuse, from which town Paul accompanied the d'Andevilles on a long -excursion through Sicily. The intimacy thus formed attached the two -young people by a bond of which they did not realize the full strength -till the time came for parting. - -Like Élisabeth, Paul had been brought up in the country and, again like -her, by a fond kinswoman who strove, by dint of loving care, to make him -forget the tragedy of his childhood. Though oblivion failed to come, at -any rate she succeeded in continuing his father's work and in making of -Paul a manly and industrious lad, interested in books, life and the -doings of mankind. He went to school and, after performing his military -service, spent two years in Germany, studying some of his favorite -industrial and mechanical subjects on the spot. - -Tall and well set up, with his black hair flung back from his rather -thin face, with its determined chin, he made an impression of strength -and energy. - -His meeting with Élisabeth revealed to him a world of ideas and emotions -which he had hitherto disdained. For him as for her it was a sort of -intoxication mingled with amazement. Love created in them two new souls, -light and free as air, whose ready enthusiasm and expansiveness formed -a sharp contrast with the habits enforced upon them by the strict -tendency of their lives. On his return to France he asked for -Élisabeth's hand in marriage and obtained her consent. - -On the day of the marriage contract, three days before the wedding, the -Comte d'Andeville announced that he would add the Château d'Ornequin to -Élisabeth's dowry. The young couple decided that they would live there -and that Paul should look about in the valleys of the neighboring -manufacturing district for some works which he could buy and manage. - -They were married on Thursday, the 30th of July, at Chaumont. It was a -quiet wedding, because of the rumors of war, though the Comte -d'Andeville, on the strength of information to which he attached great -credit, declared that no war would take place. At the breakfast in which -the two families took part, Paul made the acquaintance of Bernard -d'Andeville, Élisabeth's brother, a schoolboy of barely seventeen, whose -holidays had just begun. Paul took to him, because of his frank bearing -and high spirits; and it was arranged that Bernard should join them in a -few days at Ornequin. At one o'clock Élisabeth and Paul left Chaumont by -train. They were going hand-in-hand to the château where the first years -of their marriage were to be spent and perhaps all that happy and -peaceful future which opens up before the dazzling eyes of lovers. - -It was half-past six o'clock when they saw Jérôme's wife standing at the -foot of the steps. Rosalie was a stout, motherly body with ruddy, -mottled cheeks and a cheerful face. - -Before dining, they took a hurried turn in the garden and went over the -house. Élisabeth could not contain her emotion. Though there were no -memories to excite her, she seemed, nevertheless, to rediscover -something of the mother whom she had known for such a little while, -whose features she could not remember and who had here spent the last -happy days of her life. For her, the shade of the dead woman still trod -those garden paths. The great, green lawns exhaled a special fragrance. -The leaves on the trees rustled in the wind with a whisper which she -seemed already to have heard in that same spot and at the same hour of -the day, with her mother listening beside her. - -"You seem depressed, Élisabeth," said Paul. - -"Not depressed, but unsettled. I feel as though my mother were welcoming -us to this place where she thought she was to live and where we have -come with the same intention. And I somehow feel anxious. It is as -though I were a stranger, an intruder, disturbing the rest and peace of -the house. Only think! My mother has been here all alone for such a -time! My father would never come here; and I was telling myself that we -have no right to come here either, with our indifference for everything -that is not ourselves." - -Paul smiled: - -"Élisabeth, my darling, you are simply feeling that impression of -uneasiness which one always feels on arriving at a new place in the -evening." - -"I don't know," she said. "I daresay you are right. . . . But I can't -shake off the uneasiness; and that is so unlike me. Do you believe in -presentiments, Paul?" - -"No, do you?" - -"No, I don't either," she said, laughing and giving him her lips. - -They were surprised to find that the rooms of the house looked as if -they had been constantly inhabited. By the Count's orders, everything -had remained as it was in the far-off days of Hermine d'Andeville. The -knickknacks were there, in the same places, and every piece of -embroidery, every square of lace, every miniature, all the handsome -eighteenth century chairs, all the Flemish tapestry, all the furniture -which the Count had collected in the old days to add to the beauty of -his house. They were thus entering from the first into a charming and -home-like setting. - -After dinner they returned to the gardens, where they strolled to and -fro in silence, with their arms entwined round each other's waists. From -the terrace they looked down upon the dark valley, with a few lights -gleaming here and there. The old castle-keep raised its massive ruins -against a pale sky, in which a remnant of vague light still lingered. - -"Paul," said Élisabeth, in a low voice, "did you notice, as we went over -the house, a door closed with a great padlock?" - -"In the middle of the chief corridor, near your bedroom, you mean?" - -"Yes. That was my poor mother's boudoir. My father insisted that it -should be locked, as well as the bedroom leading out of it; and Jérôme -put a padlock on the door and sent him the key. No one has set foot in -it since. It is just as my mother left it. All her own things--her -unfinished work, her books--are there. And on the wall facing the door, -between the two windows that have always been kept shut, is her -portrait, which my father had ordered a year before of a great painter -of his acquaintance, a full-length portrait which, I understand, is the -very image of her. Her _prie-Dieu_ is beside it. This morning my father -gave me the key of the boudoir and I promised him that I would kneel -down on the _prie-Dieu_ and say a prayer before the portrait of the -mother whom I hardly knew and whose features I cannot imagine, for I -never even had a photograph of her." - -"Really? How was that?" - -"You see, my father loved my mother so much that, in obedience to a -feeling which he himself was unable to explain, he wished to be alone in -his recollection of her. He wanted his memories to be hidden deep down -in himself, so that nothing would remind him of her except his own will -and his grief. He almost begged my pardon for it this morning, said -that perhaps he had done me a wrong; and that is why he wants us to go -together, Paul, on this first evening, and pray before the picture of my -poor dead mother." - -"Let us go now, Élisabeth." - -Her hand trembled in her husband's hand as they climbed the stairs to -the first floor. Lamps had been lighted all along the passage. They -stopped in front of a tall, wide door surmounted with gilded carvings. - -"Unfasten the lock, Paul," said Élisabeth. - -Her voice shook as she spoke. She handed him the key. He removed the -padlock and seized the door-handle. But Élisabeth suddenly gripped her -husband's arm: - -"One moment, Paul, one moment! I feel so upset. This is the first time -that I shall look on my mother's face . . . and you, my dearest, are -beside me. . . . I feel as if I were becoming a little girl again." - -"Yes," he said, pressing her hand passionately, "a little girl and a -grown woman in one." - -Comforted by the clasp of his hand, she released hers and whispered: - -"We will go in now, Paul darling." - -He opened the door and returned to the passage to take a lamp from a -bracket on the wall and place it on the table. Meanwhile, Élisabeth had -walked across the room and was standing in front of the picture. Her -mother's face was in the shadow and she altered the position of the -lamp so as to throw the full light upon it. - -"How beautiful she is, Paul!" - -He went up to the picture and raised his head. Élisabeth sank to her -knees on the _prie-Dieu_. But presently, hearing Paul turn round, she -looked up at him and was stupefied by what she saw. He was standing -motionless, livid in the face, his eyes wide open, as though gazing at -the most frightful vision. - -"Paul," she cried, "what's the matter?" - -He began to make for the door, stepping backwards, unable to take his -eyes from the portrait of Hermine d'Andeville. He was staggering like a -drunken man; and his arms beat the air around him. - -"That . . . that . . ." he stammered, hoarsely. - -"Paul," Élisabeth entreated, "what is it? What are you trying to say?" - -"That . . . that is the woman who killed my father!" - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE CALL TO ARMS - - -The hideous accusation was followed by an awful silence. Élisabeth was -now standing in front of her husband, striving to understand his words, -which had not yet acquired their real meaning for her, but which hurt -her as though she had been stabbed to the heart. - -She moved towards him and, with her eyes in his, spoke in a voice so low -that he could hardly hear: - -"You surely can't mean what you said, Paul? The thing is too monstrous!" - -He replied in the same tone: - -"Yes, it is a monstrous thing. I don't believe it myself yet. I refuse -to believe it." - -"Then--it's a mistake, isn't it?--Confess it, you've made a mistake." - -She implored him with all the distress that filled her being, as though -she were hoping to make him yield. He fixed his eyes again on the -accursed portrait, over his wife's shoulder, and shivered from head to -foot: - -"Oh, it is she!" he declared, clenching his fists. "It is she--I -recognize her--it is the woman who killed my----" - -A shock of protest ran through her body; and, beating her breast, she -cried: - -"My mother! My mother a murderess! My mother, whom my father used to -worship and went on worshiping! My mother, who used to hold me on her -knee and kiss me!--I have forgotten everything about her except that, -her kisses and her caresses! And you tell me that she is a murderess!" - -"It is true." - -"Oh, Paul, you must not say anything so horrible! How can you be -positive, such a long time after? You were only a child; and you saw so -little of the woman . . . hardly a few minutes . . ." - -"I saw more of her than it seems humanly possible to see," exclaimed -Paul, loudly. "From the moment of the murder her image never left my -sight. I have tried to shake it off at times, as one tries to shake off -a nightmare; but I could not. And the image is there, hanging on the -wall. As sure as I live, it is there; I know it as I should know your -image after twenty years. It is she . . . why, look, on her breast, that -brooch set in a gold snake! . . . a cameo, as I told you, and the -snake's eyes . . . two rubies! . . . and the black lace scarf around the -shoulders! It's she, I tell you, it's the woman I saw!" - -A growing rage excited him to frenzy; and he shook his fist at the -portrait of Hermine d'Andeville. - -"Hush!" cried Élisabeth, under the torment of his words. "Hold your -tongue! I won't allow you to . . ." - -She tried to put her hand on his mouth to compel him to silence. But -Paul made a movement of repulsion, as though he were shrinking from his -wife's touch; and the movement was so abrupt and so instinctive that she -fell to the ground sobbing while he, incensed, exasperated by his sorrow -and hatred, impelled by a sort of terrified hallucination that drove him -back to the door, shouted: - -"Look at her! Look at her wicked mouth, her pitiless eyes! She is -thinking of the murder! . . . I see her, I see her! . . . She goes up to -my father . . . she leads him away . . . she raises her arm . . . and -she kills him! . . . Oh, the wretched, monstrous woman! . . ." - -He rushed from the room. - - * * * * * - -Paul spent the night in the park, running like a madman wherever the -dark paths led him, or flinging himself, when tired out, on the grass -and weeping, weeping endlessly. - -Paul Delroze had known no suffering save from his memory of the murder, -a chastened suffering which, nevertheless, at certain periods became -acute until it smarted like a fresh wound. This time the pain was so -great and so unexpected that, notwithstanding his usual self-mastery and -his well-balanced mind, he utterly lost his head. His thoughts, his -actions, his attitudes, the words which he yelled into the darkness -were those of a man who has parted with his self-control. - -One thought and one alone kept returning to his seething brain, in which -his ideas and impressions whirled like leaves in the wind; one terrible -thought: - -"I know the woman who killed my father; and that woman's daughter is the -woman whom I love." - -Did he still love her? No doubt, he was desperately mourning a happiness -which he knew to be shattered; but did he still love Élisabeth? Could he -love Hermine d'Andeville's daughter? - -When he went indoors at daybreak and passed Élisabeth's room, his heart -beat no faster than before. His hatred of the murderess destroyed all -else that might stir within him: love, affection, longing, or even the -merest human pity. - -The torpor into which he sank for a few hours relaxed his nerves a -little, but did not change his mental attitude. Perhaps, on the -contrary, and without even thinking about it, he was still more -unwilling than before to meet Élisabeth. And yet he wanted to know, to -ascertain, to gather all the essential particulars and to make quite -certain before taking the resolve that would decide the great tragedy of -his life in one way or another. - -Above all, he must question Jérôme and his wife, whose evidence was of -no small value, owing to the fact that they had known the Comtesse -d'Andeville. Certain matters concerning the dates, for instance, might -be cleared up forthwith. - -He found them in their lodge, both of them greatly excited, Jérôme with -a newspaper in his hand and Rosalie making gestures of dismay. - -"It's settled, sir," cried Jérôme. "You can be sure of it: it's coming!" - -"What?" asked Paul. - -"Mobilization, sir, the call to arms. You'll see it does. I saw some -gendarmes, friends of mine, and they told me. The posters are ready." - -Paul remarked, absent-mindedly: - -"The posters are always ready." - -"Yes, but they're going to stick them up at once, you'll see, sir. Just -look at the paper. Those swine--you'll forgive me, sir, but it's the -only word for them--those swine want war. Austria would be willing to -negotiate, but in the meantime the others have been mobilizing for -several days. Proof is, they won't let you cross into their country any -more. And worse: yesterday they destroyed a French railway station, not -far from here, and pulled up the rails. Read it for yourself, sir!" - -Paul skimmed through the stop-press telegrams, but, though he saw that -they were serious, war seemed to him such an unlikely thing that he did -not pay much attention to them. - -"It'll be settled all right," he said. "That's just their way of -talking, with their hand on the sword-hilt; but I can't believe . . ." - -"You're wrong, sir," Rosalie muttered. - -He no longer listened, thinking only of the tragedy of his fate and -casting about for the best means of obtaining the necessary replies from -Jérôme. But he was not able to contain himself any longer and he -broached the subject frankly: - -"I daresay you know, Jérôme, that madame and I have been to the Comtesse -d'Andeville's room." - -The statement produced an extraordinary effect upon the keeper and his -wife, as though it had been a sacrilege to enter that room so long kept -locked, the mistress' room, as they called it among themselves. - -"You don't mean that, sir!" Rosalie blurted out. - -And Jérôme added: - -"No, of course not, for I sent the only key of the padlock, a safety-key -it was, to Monsieur le Comte." - -"He gave it us yesterday morning," said Paul. - -And, without troubling further about their amazement, he proceeded -straightaway to put his questions: - -"There is a portrait of the Comtesse d'Andeville between the two -windows. When was it hung there?" - -Jérôme did not reply at once. He thought for a moment, looked at his -wife, and then said: - -"Why, that's easily answered. It was when Monsieur le Comte sent all his -furniture to the house . . . before they moved in." - -"When was that?" - -Paul's agony was unendurable during the three or four seconds before the -reply. - -"Well?" he asked. - -When the reply came at last it was decisive: - -"Well, it was in the spring of 1898." - -"Eighteen hundred and ninety-eight!" - -Paul repeated the words in a dull voice: 1898 was the year of his -father's murder! - -Without stopping to reflect, with the coolness of an examining -magistrate who does not swerve from the line which he has laid out, he -asked: - -"So the Comte and Comtesse d'Andeville arrived . . ." - -"Monsieur le Comte and Madame le Comtesse arrived at the castle on the -28th of August, 1898, and left for the south on the 24th of October." - -Paul now knew the truth, for his father was murdered on the 19th of -September. And all the circumstances which depended on that truth, which -explained it in its main details or which proceeded from it at once -appeared to him. He remembered that his father was on friendly terms -with the Comte d'Andeville. He said to himself that his father, in the -course of his journey in Alsace, must have learnt that his friend -d'Andeville was living in Lorraine and must have contemplated paying him -a surprise visit. He reckoned up the distance between Ornequin and -Strasburg, a distance which corresponded with the time spent in the -train. And he asked: - -"How far is this from the frontier?" - -"Three miles and three-quarters, sir." - -"On the other side, at no great distance, there's a little German town, -is there not?" - -"Yes, sir, Èbrecourt." - -"Is there a short-cut to the frontier?" - -"Yes, sir, for about half-way: a path at the other end of the park." - -"Through the woods?" - -"Through Monsieur le Comte's woods." - -"And in those woods . . ." - -To acquire total, absolute certainty, that certainty which comes not -from an interpretation of the facts but from the facts themselves, which -would stand out visible and palpable, all that he had to do was to put -the last question: in those woods was not there a little chapel in the -middle of a glade? Paul Delroze did not put the question. Perhaps he -thought it too precise, perhaps he feared lest it should induce the -gamekeeper to entertain thoughts and comparisons which the nature of the -conversation was already sufficient to warrant. He merely asked: - -"Was the Comtesse d'Andeville away at all during the six weeks which she -spent at Ornequin? For two or three days, I mean?" - -"No, sir, Madame le Comtesse never left the grounds." - -"She kept to the park?" - -"Yes, sir. Monsieur le Comte used to drive almost every afternoon to -Corvigny or in the valley, but Madame la Comtesse never went beyond the -park and the woods." - -Paul knew what he wanted to know. Not caring what Jérôme and his wife -might think, he did not trouble to find an excuse for his strange series -of apparently disconnected questions. He left the lodge and walked away. - -Eager though he was to complete his inquiry, he postponed the -investigations which he intended to pursue outside the park. It was as -though he dreaded to face the final proof, which had really become -superfluous after those with which chance had supplied him. He therefore -went back to the château and, at lunch-time, resolved to accept this -inevitable meeting with Élisabeth. But his wife's maid came to him in -the drawing-room and said that her mistress sent her excuses. Madame was -not feeling very well and asked did monsieur mind if she took her lunch -in her own room. He understood that she wished to leave him entirely -free, refusing, on her side, to appeal to him on behalf of a mother whom -she respected and, if necessary, submitting beforehand to whatever -eventual decision her husband might make. - -Lunching by himself under the eyes of the butler and footman waiting at -table, he felt in the utmost depths of his heart that his happiness was -gone and that Élisabeth and he, thanks to circumstances for which -neither of them was responsible, had on the very day of their marriage -become enemies whom no power on earth could bring together. Certainly, -he bore her no hatred and did not reproach her with her mother's crime; -but unconsciously he was angry with her, as for a fault, inasmuch as -she was her mother's daughter. - -For two hours after lunch he remained closeted with the portrait in the -boudoir: a tragic interview which he wished to have with the murderess, -so as to fill his eyes with her accursed image and give fresh strength -to his memories. He examined every slightest detail. He studied the -cameo, the swan with unfurled wings which it represented, the chasing of -the gold snake that formed the setting, the position of the rubies and -also the draping of the lace around the shoulders, not to speak of the -shape of the mouth and the color of the hair and the outline of the -face. - -It was undoubtedly the woman whom he had seen that September evening. A -corner of the picture bore the painter's signature; and underneath, on -the frame, was a scroll with the inscription: - - Portrait of the Comtesse H. - -No doubt the portrait had been exhibited with that discreet reference to -the Comtesse Hermine. - -"Now, then," said Paul. "A few minutes more, and the whole past will -come to life again. I have found the criminal; I have now only to find -the place of the crime. If the chapel is there, in the woods, the truth -will be complete." - -He went for the truth resolutely. He feared it less now, because it -could no longer escape his grasp. And yet how his heart beat, with -great, painful throbs, and how he loathed the idea of taking the road -leading to that other road along which his father had passed sixteen -years before! - -A vague movement of Jérôme's hand had told him which way to go. He -crossed the park in the direction of the frontier, bearing to his left -and passing a lodge. At the entrance to the woods was a long avenue of -fir-trees down which he went. Four hundred yards farther it branched -into three narrow avenues. Two of these proved to end in impenetrable -thickets. The third led to the top of a mound, from which he descended, -still keeping to his left, by another avenue of fir-trees. - -In selecting this road, Paul realized that it was just this avenue of -firs the appearance of which aroused in him, through some untold -resemblance of shape and arrangement, memories clear enough to guide his -steps. It ran straight ahead for some time and then took a sudden turn -into a cluster of tall beeches whose leafy tops met overhead. Then the -road sloped upwards; and, at the end of the dark tunnel through which he -was walking, Paul perceived the glare of light that points to an open -space. - -The anguish of it all made his knees give way beneath him; and he had to -make an effort to proceed. Was it the glade in which his father had -received his death-blow? The more that luminous space became revealed to -his eyes, the more did he feel penetrated with a profound conviction. As -in the room with the portrait, the past was recovering the very aspect -of the truth in and before him. - -It was the same glade, surrounded by a ring of trees that presented the -same picture and covered with a carpet of grass and moss which the same -paths divided as of old. The same glimpse of sky was above him, outlined -by the capricious masses of foliage. And there, on his left, guarded by -two yew-trees which Paul recognized, was the chapel. - -The chapel! The little old massive chapel, whose lines had etched -themselves like furrows into his brain! Trees grow, become taller, alter -their form. The appearance of a glade is liable to change. Its paths -will sometimes interlock in a different fashion. A man's memory can play -him a trick. But a building of granite and cement is immutable. It takes -centuries to give it the green-gray color that is the mark which time -sets upon the stone; and this bloom of age never alters. The chapel that -stood there, displaying a grimy-paned rose-window in its east front, was -undoubtedly that from which the German Emperor had stepped, followed by -the woman who, ten minutes later, committed the murder. - -Paul walked to the door. He wanted to revisit the place in which his -father had spoken to him for the last time. It was a moment of tense -emotion. The same little roof which had sheltered their bicycles -projected at the back; and the door was the same, with its great rusty -clamps and bars. - -He stood on the single step that led to it, raised the latch and pushed -the door. But as he was about to enter, two men, hidden in the shadow on -either side, sprang at him. - -One of them aimed a revolver full in his face. By some miracle, Paul -noticed the gleaming barrel of the weapon just in time to stoop before -the bullet could strike him. A second shot rang out, but he had hustled -the man and now snatched the revolver from his hand, while his other -aggressor threatened him with a dagger. He stepped backwards out of the -chapel, with outstretched arm, and twice pulled the trigger. Each time -there was a click but no shot. The mere fact, however, of his firing at -the two scoundrels terrified them, and they turned tail and made off as -fast as they could. - -Bewildered by the suddenness of the attack, Paul stood for a second -irresolute. Then he fired at the fugitives again, but to no purpose. The -revolver, which was obviously loaded in only two chambers, clicked but -did not go off. - -He then started running after his assailants; and he remembered that -long ago the Emperor and his companion, on leaving the chapel, had taken -the same direction, which was evidently that of the frontier. - -Almost at the same moment the men, seeing themselves pursued, plunged -into the wood and slipped in among the trees; but Paul, who was swifter -of foot, rapidly gained ground on them, all the more so as he had gone -round a hollow filled with bracken and brambles into which the others -had ventured. - -Suddenly one of them gave a shrill whistle, probably a warning to some -accomplice. Soon after they disappeared behind a line of extremely dense -bushes. When he had passed through these, Paul saw at a distance of -sixty yards before him a high wall which seemed to shut in the woods on -every side. The men were half-way to it; and he perceived that they were -making straight for a part of the wall containing a small door. - -Paul put on a spurt so as to reach the door before they had time to open -it. The bare ground enabled him to increase his speed, whereas the men, -who were obviously tired, had reduced theirs. - -"I've got them, the ruffians!" he murmured. "I shall at last know . . ." - -A second whistle sounded, followed by a guttural shout. He was now -within twenty yards of them and could hear them speak. - -"I've got them, I've got them!" he repeated, with fierce delight. - -And he made up his mind to strike one of them in the face with the -barrel of his revolver and to spring at the other's throat. - -But, before they even reached the wall, the door was pushed open from -the outside and a third man appeared and let them through. - -Paul flung away the revolver; and his impetus was such and the effort -which he made so great that he managed to seize the door and draw it to -him. - -The door gave way. And what he then saw scared him to such a degree that -he started backwards and did not even dream of defending himself against -this fresh attack. The third man--Oh, hideous nightmare! Could it -moreover be anything but a nightmare?--the third ruffian was raising a -knife against him; and Paul knew his face . . . it was a face resembling -the one which he had seen before, a man's face and not a woman's, but -the same sort of face, undoubtedly the same sort: a face marked by -fifteen additional years and by an even harder and more wicked -expression, but the same sort of face, the same sort! - -And the man stabbed Paul, even as the woman of fifteen years ago, even -as she who was since dead had stabbed Paul's father. - - * * * * * - -Paul Delroze staggered, but rather as the result of the nervous shock -caused by the sudden appearance of this ghost of the past; for the blade -of the dagger, striking the button on the shoulder-strap of his -shooting-jacket, broke into splinters. Dazed and misty-eyed, he heard -the sound of the door closing, the grating of the key in the lock and -lastly the hum of a motor car starting on the other side of the wall. -When Paul recovered from his torpor there was nothing left for him to -do. The man and his two confederates were out of reach. - -Besides, for the moment he was utterly absorbed in the mystery of the -likeness between the figure from the past and that which he had just -seen. He could think of but one thing: - -"The Comtesse d'Andeville is dead; and here she is revived under the -aspect of a man whose face is the very face which she would have to-day. -Is it the face of some relation, of a brother of whom I never heard, a -twin perhaps?" - -And he reflected: - -"After all, am I not mistaken? Am I not the victim of an hallucination, -which would be only natural in the crisis through which I am passing? -How do I know for certain that there is any connection between the -present and the past? I must have a proof." - -The proof was ready to his hand; and it was so strong that Paul was not -able to doubt for much longer. He caught sight of the remains of the -dagger in the grass and picked up the handle. On it four letters were -engraved as with a red-hot iron: an H, an E, an R and an M. - -H, E, R, M; the first four letters of Hermine! . . . At this moment, -while he was staring at the letters which were to him so full of -meaning, at this moment, a moment which Paul was never to forget, the -bell of a church nearby began to ring in the most unusual manner: a -regular, monotonous, uninterrupted ringing, which sounded at once brisk -and unspeakably sinister. - -"The tocsin," he muttered to himself, without attaching the full sense -to the word. And he added: "A fire somewhere, I expect." - -A few minutes later Paul had succeeded in climbing over the wall by -means of the projecting branches of a tree. He found a further stretch -of woods, crossed by a forest road. He followed the tracks of a motor -car along this road and reached the frontier within an hour. - -A squad of German constabulary were sitting round the foot of the -frontier post; and he saw a white road with Uhlans trotting along it. At -the end of it was a cluster of red roofs and gardens. Was this the -little town where his father and he had hired their bicycles that day, -the little town of Èbrecourt? - -The melancholy bell never ceased. He noticed that the sound came from -France; also that another bell was ringing somewhere, likewise in -France, and a third from the direction of the Liseron; and all three on -the same hurried note, as though sending forth a wild appeal around -them. - -He repeated, anxiously: - -"The tocsin! . . . The alarm! . . . And it's being passed on from church -to church. . . . Can it mean that . . ." - -But he drove away the terrifying thought. No, his ears were misleading -him; or else it was the echo of a single bell thrown back in the hollow -valleys and ringing over the plains. - -Meanwhile he was gazing at the white road which issued from the little -German town, and he observed that a constant stream of horsemen was -arriving there and spreading across-country. Also a detachment of French -dragoons appeared on the ridge of a hill. The officer in command scanned -the horizon through his field-glasses and then trotted off with his men. - -Thereupon, unable to go any farther, Paul walked back to the wall which -he had climbed and found that the wall was prolonged around the whole of -the estate, including the woods and the park. He learnt besides from an -old peasant that it was built some twelve years ago, which explained why -Paul had never found the chapel in the course of his explorations along -the frontier. Once only, he now remembered, some one had told him of a -chapel; but it was one situated inside a private estate; and his -suspicions had not been aroused. - -While thus following the road that skirted the property, he came nearer -to the village of Ornequin, whose church suddenly rose at the end of a -clearing in the wood. The bell, which he had not heard for the last -moment or two, now rang out again with great distinctness. It was the -bell of Ornequin. It was frail, shrill, poignant as a lament and more -solemn than a passing-bell, for all its hurry and lightness. - -Paul walked towards the sound. A charming village, all aflower with -geraniums and Marguerites, stood gathered about its church. Silent -groups were studying a white notice posted on the Mayor's office. Paul -stepped forward and read the heading: - - "Mobilization Order." - -At any other period of his life these words would have struck him with -all their gloomy and terrific meaning. But the crisis through which he -was passing was too powerful to allow room for any great emotion within -him. He scarcely even contemplated the unavoidable consequences of the -proclamation. Very well, the country was mobilizing: the mobilization -would begin at midnight. . . . Very well, every one must go; he would -go. . . . And this assumed in his mind the form of so imperative an act, -the proportions of a duty which so completely exceeded every minor -obligation and every petty individual need that he felt, on the -contrary, a sort of relief at thus receiving from the outside the order -that dictated his conduct. There was no hesitation possible. His duty -lay before him: he must go. - -Go? In that case why not go at once? What was the use of returning to -the house, seeing Élisabeth again, seeking a painful and futile -explanation, granting or refusing a forgiveness which his wife did not -ask of him, but which the daughter of Hermine d'Andeville did not -deserve? - -In front of the principal inn a diligence stood waiting, marked, -"Corvigny-Ornequin Railway Service." A few passengers were getting in. -Without giving a further thought to a position which events were -developing in their own way, he climbed into the diligence. - -At the Corvigny railway station he was told that his train would not -leave for half an hour and that it was the last, as the evening train, -which connected with the night express on the main line, was not -running. Paul took his ticket and then asked his way to the jobmaster of -the village. He found that the man owned two motor cars and arranged -with him to have the larger of the two sent at once to the Château -d'Ornequin and placed at Mme. Paul Delroze's disposal. - -And he wrote a short note to his wife: - - "_Élisabeth:_ - - "Circumstances are so serious that I must ask you to - leave Ornequin. The trains have become very uncertain; - and I am sending you a motor car which will take you - to-night to your aunt at Chaumont. I suppose that the - servants will go with you and that, if there should be - war (which seems to me very unlikely, in spite of - everything), Jérôme and Rosalie will shut up the house - and go to Corvigny. - - "As for me, I am joining my regiment. Whatever the - future may hold in store for us, Élisabeth, I shall - never forget the woman who was my bride and who bears - my name. - - "PAUL DELROZE." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A LETTER FROM ÉLISABETH - - -It was nine o'clock; there was no holding the position; and the colonel -was furious. - -He had brought his regiment in the middle of the night--it was in the -first month of the war, on the 22nd of August, 1914--to the junction of -those three roads one of which ran from Belgian Luxemburg. The Germans -had taken possession of the lines of the frontier, seven or eight miles -away, on the day before. The general commanding the division had -expressly ordered that they were to hold the enemy in check until -mid-day, that is to say, until the whole division was able to come up -with them. The regiment was supported by a battery of seventy-fives. - -The colonel had drawn up his men in a dip in the ground. The battery was -likewise hidden. And yet, at the first gleams of dawn, both regiment and -battery were located by the enemy and lustily shelled. - -They moved a mile or more to the right. Five minutes later the shells -fell and killed half a dozen men and two officers. - -A fresh move was effected, followed in ten minutes by a fresh attack. -The colonel pursued his tactics. In an hour there were thirty men killed -or wounded. One of the guns was destroyed. And it was only nine o'clock. - -"Damn it all!" cried the colonel. "How can they spot us like this? -There's witchcraft in it." - -He was hiding, with his majors, the captain of artillery and a few -dispatch-riders, behind a bank from above which the eye took in a rather -large stretch of undulating upland. At no great distance, on the left, -was an abandoned village, with some scattered farms in front of it, and -there was not an enemy to be seen in all that deserted extent of -country. There was nothing to show where the hail of shells was coming -from. The seventy-fives had "searched" one or two points with no result. -The firing continued. - -"Three more hours to hold out," growled the colonel. "We shall do it; -but we shall lose a quarter of the regiment." - -At that moment a shell whistled between the officers and the -dispatch-riders and plumped down into the ground. All sprang back, -awaiting the explosion. But one man, a corporal, ran forward, lifted the -shell and examined it. - -"You're mad, corporal!" roared the colonel. "Drop that shell and be -quick about it." - -The corporal replaced the projectile quietly in the hole which it had -made; and then without hurrying, went up to the colonel, brought his -heels together and saluted: - -"Excuse me, sir, but I wanted to see by the fuse how far off the enemy's -guns are. It's two miles and fifty yards. That may be worth knowing." - -"By Jove! And suppose it had gone off?" - -"Ah, well, sir, nothing venture, nothing have!" - -"True, but, all the same, it was a bit thick! What's your name?" - -"Paul Delroze, sir, corporal in the third company." - -"Well, Corporal Delroze, I congratulate you on your pluck and I dare say -you'll soon have your sergeant's stripes. Meanwhile, take my advice and -don't do it again. . . ." - -He was interrupted by the sudden bursting of a shrapnel-shell. One of -the dispatch-riders standing near him fell, hit in the chest, and an -officer staggered under the weight of the earth that spattered against -him. - -"Come," said the colonel, when things had restored themselves, "there's -nothing to do but bow before the storm. Take the best shelter you can -find; and let's wait." - -Paul Delroze stepped forward once more. - -"Forgive me, sir, for interfering in what's not my business; but we -might, I think, avoid . . ." - -"Avoid the peppering? Of course, I have only to change our position -again. But, as we should be located again at once. . . . There, my lad, -go back to your place." - -Paul insisted: - -"It might be a question, sir, not of changing our position, but of -changing the enemy's fire." - -"Really!" said the colonel, a little sarcastically, but nevertheless -impressed by Paul's coolness. "And do you know a way of doing it?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Give me twenty minutes, sir, and by that time the shells will be -falling in another direction." - -The colonel could not help smiling: - -"Capital! You'll make them drop where you please, I suppose?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"On that beet-field over there, fifteen hundred yards to the right?" - -"Yes, sir." - -The artillery-captain, who had been listening to the conversation, made -a jest in his turn: - -"While you are about it, corporal, as you have already given me the -distance and I know the direction more or less, couldn't you give it to -me exactly, so that I may lay my guns right and smash the German -batteries?" - -"That will be a longer job, sir, and much more difficult," said Paul. -"Still, I'll try. If you don't mind examining the horizon, at eleven -o'clock precisely, towards the frontier, I'll let off a signal." - -"What sort of signal?" - -"I don't know, sir. Three rockets, I expect." - -"But your signal will be no use unless you send it off immediately above -the enemy's position." - -"Just so, sir." - -"And, to do that, you'll have to know it." - -"I shall, sir." - -"And to get there." - -"I shall get there, sir." - -Paul saluted, turned on his heel and, before the officers had time -either to approve or to object, he slipped along the foot of the slope -at a run, plunged on the left down a sort of hollow way, with bristling -edges of brambles, and disappeared from sight. - -"That's a queer fellow," said the colonel. "I wonder what he really -means to do." - -The young soldier's pluck and decision disposed the colonel in his -favor; and, though he felt only a limited confidence in the result of -the enterprise, he could not help looking at his watch, time after time, -during the minutes which he spent with his officers, behind the feeble -rampart of a hay-stack. They were terrible minutes, in which the -commanding officer did not think for a moment of the danger that -threatened himself, but only of the danger of the men in his charge, -whom he looked upon as children. - -He saw them around him, lying at full length on the stubble, with their -knapsacks over their heads, or snugly ensconced in the copses, or -squatting in the hollows in the ground. The iron hurricane increased in -violence. It came rushing down like a furious hail bent upon hastily -completing its work of destruction. Men suddenly leapt to their feet, -spun on their heels and fell motionless, amid the yells of the wounded, -the shouts of the soldiers exchanging remarks and even jokes and, over -everything, the incessant thunder of the bursting bomb-shells. - -And then, suddenly, silence! Total, definite silence, an infinite lull -in the air and on the ground, giving a sort of ineffable relief! - -The colonel expressed his delight by bursting into a laugh: - -"By Jupiter, Corporal Delroze knows his way about! The crowning -achievement would be for the beet-field to be shelled, as he promised." - -He had not finished speaking when a shell exploded fifteen hundred yards -to the right, not in the beet-field, but a little in front of it. The -second went too far. The third found the spot. And the bombardment began -with a will. - -There was something about the performance of the task which the corporal -had set himself that was at once so astounding and so mathematically -accurate that the colonel and his officers had hardly a doubt that he -would carry it out to the end and that, notwithstanding the -insurmountable obstacles, he would succeed in giving the signal agreed -upon. - -They never ceased sweeping the horizon with their field-glasses, while -the enemy redoubled his efforts against the beet-field. - -At five minutes past eleven, a red rocket went up. It appeared a good -deal farther to the right than they would have suspected. And it was -followed by two others. - -Through his telescope the artillery-captain soon discovered a -church-steeple that just showed above a valley which was itself -invisible among the rise and fall of the plateau; and the spire of the -steeple protruded so very little that it might well have been taken for -a tree standing by itself. A rapid glance at the map showed that it was -the village of Brumoy. - -Knowing, from the shell examined by the corporal, the exact distance of -the German batteries, the captain telephoned his instructions to his -lieutenant. Half an hour later the German batteries were silenced; and -as a fourth rocket had gone up the seventy-fives continued to bombard -the church as well as the village and its immediate neighborhood. - -At a little before twelve, the regiment was joined by a cyclists company -riding ahead of the division. The order was given to advance at all -costs. - -The regiment advanced, encountering no resistance, as it approached -Brumoy, except a few rifle shots. The enemy's rearguard was falling -back. - -The village was in ruins, with some of its houses still burning, and -displayed a most incredible disorder of corpses, of wounded men, of dead -horses, demolished guns and battered caissons and baggage-wagons. A -whole brigade had been surprised at the moment, when, feeling certain -that it had cleared the ground, it was about to march to the attack. - -But a shout came from the top of the church, the front and nave of which -had fallen in and presented an appearance of indescribable chaos. Only -the tower, perforated by gun-fire and blackened by the smoke from some -burning joists, still remained standing, bearing by some miracle of -equilibrium, the slender stone spire with which it was crowned. With his -body leaning out of this spire was a peasant, waving his arms and -shouting to attract attention. - -The officers recognized Paul Delroze. - -Picking their way through the rubbish, our men climbed the staircase -that led to the platform of the tower. Here, heaped up against the -little door admitting to the spire, were the bodies of eight Germans; -and the door, which was demolished and had dropped crosswise, barred the -entrance in such a way that it had to be chopped to pieces before Paul -could be released. - -Toward the end of the afternoon, when it was manifest that the obstacles -to the pursuit of the enemy were too serious to be overcome, the colonel -embraced Corporal Delroze in front of the regiment mustered in the -square. - -"Let's speak of your reward first," he said. "I shall recommend you for -the military medal; and you will be sure to get it. And now, my lad, -tell your story." - -And Paul stood answering questions in the middle of the circle formed -around him by the officers and the non-commissioned officers of each -company. - -"Why, it's very simple, sir," he said. "We were being spied upon." - -"Obviously; but who was the spy and where was he?" - -"I learnt that by accident. Beside the position which we occupied this -morning, there was a village, was there not, with a church?" - -"Yes, but I had the village evacuated when I arrived; and there was no -one in the church." - -"If there was no one in the church, sir, why did the weather-vane point -the wind coming from the east, when it was blowing from the west? And -why, when we changed our position, was the vane pointed in our -direction?" - -"Are you sure of that?" - -"Yes, sir. And that was why, after obtaining your leave, I did not -hesitate to slip into the church and to enter the steeple as stealthily -as I could. I was not mistaken. There was a man there whom I managed to -overmaster, not without difficulty." - -"The scoundrel! A Frenchman?" - -"No, sir, a German dressed up as a peasant." - -"He shall be shot." - -"No, sir, please. I promised him his life." - -"Never!" - -"Well, you see, sir, I had to find out how he was keeping the enemy -informed." - -"Well?" - -"Oh, it was simple enough! The church has a clock, facing the north, of -which we could not see the dial, where we were. From the inside, our -friend worked the hands so that the big hand, resting by turns on three -or four figures, announced the exact distance at which we were from the -church, in the direction pointed by the vane. This is what I next did -myself; and the enemy at once, redirecting his fire by my indications, -began conscientiously to shell the beet-field." - -"He did," said the colonel, laughing. - -"All that remained for me to do was to move on to the other -observation-post, where the spy's messages were received. There I would -learn the essential details which the spy himself did not know; I mean, -where the enemy's batteries were hidden. I therefore ran to this place; -and it was only on arriving here that I saw those batteries and a whole -German brigade posted at the very foot of the church which did the duty -of signaling-station." - -"But that was a mad piece of recklessness! Didn't they fire on you?" - -"I had put on the spy's clothes, sir, _their_ spy's. I can speak German, -I knew the pass-word and only one of them knew the spy and that was the -officer on observation-duty. Without the least suspicion, the general -commanding the brigade sent me to him as soon as I told him that the -French had discovered me and that I had managed to escape them." - -"And you had the cheek . . . ?" - -"I had to, sir; and besides I held all the trump cards. The officer -suspected nothing; and, when I reached the platform from which he was -sending his signals, I had no difficulty in attacking him and reducing -him to silence. My business was done and I had only to give you the -signals agreed upon." - -"Only that! In the midst of six or seven thousand men!" - -"I had promised you, sir, and it was eleven o'clock. The platform had on -it all the apparatus required for sending day or night signals. Why -shouldn't I use it? I lit a rocket, followed by a second and a third and -then a fourth; and the battle commenced." - -"But those rockets were indications to draw our fire upon the very -steeple where you were! It was you we were firing on!" - -"Oh, I assure you, sir, one doesn't think of those things at such -moments! I welcomed the first shell that struck the church. And then the -enemy left me hardly any time for reflection. Half-a-dozen fellows at -once came climbing the tower. I accounted for some of them with my -revolver; but a second assault came and, later on, still another. I had -to take refuge behind the door that closes the spire. When they had -broken it down, it served me as a barricade; and, as I had the arms and -ammunition which I had taken from my first assailants and was -inaccessible and very nearly invisible, I found it easy to sustain a -regular siege." - -"While our seventy-fives were blazing away at you." - -"While our seventy-fives were releasing me, sir; for you can understand -that, once the church was destroyed and the nave in flames, no one dared -to venture up the tower. I had nothing to do, therefore, but wait -patiently for your arrival." - -Paul Delroze had told his story in the simplest way and as though it -concerned perfectly natural things. The colonel, after congratulating -him again, confirmed his promotion to the rank of sergeant and said: - -"Have you nothing to ask me?" - -"Yes, sir, I should like to put a few more questions to the German spy -whom I left behind me and, at the same time, to get back my uniform, -which I hid." - -"Very well, you shall dine here and we'll give you a bicycle -afterwards." - -Paul was back at the first church by seven o'clock in the evening. A -great disappointment awaited him. The spy had broken his bonds and fled. - -All Paul's searching, in the church and village, was useless. -Nevertheless, on one of the steps of the staircase, near the place where -he had flung himself upon the spy, he picked up the dagger with which -his adversary had tried to strike him. It was exactly similar to the -dagger which he had picked up in the grass, three weeks before, outside -the little gate in the Ornequin woods. It had the same three-cornered -blade, the same brown horn handle and, on the handle, the same four -letters: H, E, R, M. - -The spy and the woman who bore so strange a resemblance to Hermine -d'Andeville, his father's murderess, both made use of an identical -weapon. - - * * * * * - -Next day, the division to which Paul's regiment belonged continued the -offensive and entered Belgium after repulsing the enemy. But in the -evening the general received orders to fall back. - -The retreat began. Painful as it was to one and all, it was doubly so -perhaps to those of our troops which had been victorious at the start. -Paul and his comrades in the third company could not contain themselves -for rage and disappointment. During the half a day which they spent in -Belgium, they saw the ruins of a little town that had been destroyed by -the Germans, the bodies of eighty women who had been shot, old men hung -up by their feet, stacks of murdered children. And they had to retire -before those monsters! - -Some of the Belgian soldiers had attached themselves to the regiment; -and, with faces that still bore traces of horror at the infernal visions -which they had beheld, these men told of things beyond the conception of -the most vivid imagination. And our fellows had to retire. They had to -retire with hatred in their hearts and a mad desire for vengeance that -made their hands close fiercely on their rifles. - -And why retire? It was not a question of being defeated, because they -were falling back in good order, making sudden halts and delivering -violent counter-attacks upon the disconcerted enemy. But his numbers -overpowered all resistance. The wave of barbarians reformed itself. The -place of each thousand dead was taken by two thousand of the living. And -our men retired. - -One evening, Paul learnt one of the reasons for this retreat from a -week-old newspaper; and he was painfully affected by the news. On the -20th of August, Corvigny had been taken by assault, after some hours of -bombardment effected under the most inexplicable conditions, whereas the -stronghold was believed to be capable of holding out for at least some -days, which would have strengthened our operations against the left -flank of the Germans. - -So Corvigny had fallen; and the Château d'Ornequin, doubtless abandoned, -as Paul himself hoped, by Jérôme and Rosalie, was now destroyed, -pillaged and sacked with the methodical thoroughness which the Huns -applied to their work of devastation. On this side, too, the furious -horde were crowding precipitately. - -Those were sinister days, at the end of August, the most tragic days -perhaps that France has ever passed through. Paris was threatened, a -dozen departments were invaded. Death's icy breath hung over our gallant -nation. - -It was on the morning of one of these days that Paul heard a cheerful -voice calling to him from a group of young soldiers behind him: - -"Paul, Paul! I've got my way at last! Isn't it a stroke of luck?" - -Those young soldiers were lads who had enlisted voluntarily and been -drafted into the regiment; and Paul at once recognized Élisabeth's -brother, Bernard d'Andeville. He had no time to think of the attitude -which he had best take up. His first impulse would have been to turn -away; but Bernard had seized his two hands and was pressing them with an -affectionate kindness which showed that the boy knew nothing as yet of -the breach between Paul and his wife. - -"Yes, it's myself, old chap," he declared gaily. "I may call you old -chap, mayn't I? It's myself and it takes your breath away, what? You're -thinking of a providential meeting, the sort of coincidence one never -sees: two brothers-in-law dropping into the same regiment. Well, it's -not that: it happened at my express request. I said to the authorities, -'I'm enlisting by way of a duty and pleasure combined,' or words to that -effect. 'But, as a crack athlete and a prize-winner in every gymnastic -and drill-club I ever joined, I want to be sent to the front straight -away and into the same regiment as my brother-in-law, Corporal Paul -Delroze.' And, as they couldn't do without my services, they packed me -off here. . . . Well? You don't look particularly delighted . . . ?" - -Paul was hardly listening. He said to himself: - -"This is the son of Hermine d'Andeville. The boy who is now touching me -is the son of the woman who killed . . ." - -But Bernard's face expressed such candor and such open-hearted pleasure -at seeing him that he said: - -"Yes, I am. Only you're so young!" - -"I? I'm quite ancient. Seventeen the day I enlisted." - -"But what did your father say?" - -"Dad gave me leave. But for that, of course, I shouldn't have given him -leave." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Why, he's enlisted, too." - -"At his age?" - -"Nonsense, he's quite juvenile. Fifty the day he enlisted! They found -him a job as interpreter with the British staff. All the family under -arms, you see. . . . Oh, I was forgetting, I've a letter for you from -Élisabeth!" - -Paul started. He had deliberately refrained from asking after his wife. -He now said, as he took the letter: - -"So she gave you this . . . ?" - -"No, she sent it to us from Ornequin." - -"From Ornequin? How can she have done that? Élisabeth left Ornequin on -the day of mobilization, in the evening. She was going to Chaumont, to -her aunt's." - -"Not at all. I went and said good-bye to our aunt: she hadn't heard from -Élisabeth since the beginning of the war. Besides, look at the -envelope: 'M. Paul Delroze, care of M. d'Andeville, Paris, etc.' And -it's post-marked Ornequin and Corvigny." - -Paul looked and stammered: - -"Yes, you're right; and I can read the date on the post-mark: 18 August. -The 18th of August . . . and Corvigny fell into the hands of the Germans -two days later, on the 20th. So Élisabeth was still there." - -"No, no," cried Bernard, "Élisabeth isn't a child! You surely don't -think she would have waited for the Huns, so close to the frontier! She -would have left the château at the first sound of firing. And that's -what she's telling you, I expect. Why don't you read her letter, Paul?" - -Paul, on his side, had no idea of what he was about to learn on reading -the letter; and he opened the envelope with a shudder. - -What Élisabeth wrote was: - - "_Paul_, - - "I cannot make up my mind to leave Ornequin. A duty - keeps me here in which I shall not fail, the duty of - clearing my mother's memory. Do understand me, Paul. - My mother remains the purest of creatures in my eyes. - The woman who nursed me in her arms, for whom my - father retains all his love, must not be even - suspected. But you yourself accuse her; and it is - against you that I wish to defend her. To compel you - to believe me, I shall find the proofs that are not - necessary to convince me. And it seems to me that - those proofs can only be found here. So I shall stay. - - "Jérôme and Rosalie are also staying on, though the - enemy is said to be approaching. They have brave - hearts, both of them, and you have nothing to fear, as - I shall not be alone. - - ÉLISABETH DELROZE." - -Paul folded up the letter. He was very pale. - -Bernard asked: - -"She's gone, hasn't she?" - -"No, she's there." - -"But this is madness! What, with those beasts about! A lonely -country-house! . . . But look here, Paul, she must surely know the -terrible dangers that threaten her! . . . What can be keeping her there? -Oh, it's too dreadful to think of. . . ." - -Paul stood silent, with a drawn face and clenched fists. . . . - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE PEASANT-WOMAN AT CORVIGNY - - -Three weeks before, on hearing that war was declared, Paul had felt -rising within him the immediate resolution to get killed at all costs. -The tragedy of his life, the horror of his marriage with a woman whom he -still loved in his heart, the certainty which he had acquired at the -Château d'Ornequin: all this had affected him to such a degree that he -came to look upon death as a boon. To him, war represented, from the -first and without the least demur, death. However much he might admire -the solemnly impressive and magnificently consoling events of those -first few weeks--the perfect order of the mobilization, the enthusiasm -of the soldiers, the wonderful unity that prevailed in France, the -awakening of the souls of the nation--none of these great spectacles -attracted his attention. Deep down within himself he had determined that -he would perform acts of such kind that not even the most improbable -hazard could succeed in saving him. - -Thus he thought that he had found the desired occasion on the first day. -To overmaster the spy whose presence he suspected in the church steeple -and then to penetrate to the very heart of the enemy's lines, in order -to signal the position, meant going to certain death. He went bravely. -And, as he had a very clear sense of his mission, he fulfilled it with -as much prudence as courage. He was ready to die, but to die after -succeeding. And he found a strange unexpected joy in the act itself as -well as in the success that attended it. - -The discovery of the dagger employed by the spy made a great impression -on him. What connection did it establish between this man and the one -who had tried to stab him? What was the connection between these two and -the Comtesse d'Andeville, who had died sixteen years ago? And how, by -what invisible links, were they all three related to that same work of -treachery and spying of which Paul had surprised so many instances? - -But Élisabeth's letter, above all, came upon him as a very violent blow. -She was over there, amidst the bullets and the shells, the hot fighting -around the château, the madness and the fury of the victors, the -burning, the shooting, the torturing and atrocities! She was there, she -so young and beautiful, almost alone, with no one to defend her! And she -was there because he, Paul, had not had the grit to go back to her and -see her once more and take her away with him! - -These thoughts produced in Paul fits of depression from which he would -suddenly awaken to thrust himself in the path of some danger, pursuing -his mad enterprises to the end, come what might, with a quiet courage -and a fierce obstinacy that filled his comrades with both surprise and -admiration. And from that time onward he seemed to be seeking not so -much death as the unspeakable ecstasy which a man feels in defying it. - -Then came the 6th of September, the day of the unheard-of miracle when -our great general-in-chief, addressing his armies in words that will -never perish, at last ordered them to fling themselves upon the enemy. -The gallantly-borne but cruel retreat came to an end. Exhausted, -breathless, fighting against odds for days, with no time for sleep, with -no time to eat, marching only by force of prodigious efforts of which -they were not even conscious, unable to say why they did not lie down in -the road-side ditches to await death, such were the men who received the -word of command: - -"Halt! About face! And now have at the enemy!" - -And they faced about. Those dying men recovered their strength. From the -humblest to the most illustrious, each summoned up his will and fought -as though the safety of France depended upon him alone. There were as -many glorious heroes as there were soldiers. They were asked to conquer -or die. They conquered. - -Paul shone in the front rank of the fearless. He himself knew that what -he did and what he endured, what he tried to do and what he succeeded in -doing surpassed the limits of reality. On the 6th and the 7th and the -8th and again from the 11th to the 13th, despite his excessive fatigue, -despite the deprivations of sleep and food which it seemed impossible -for the human frame to resist, he had no other sensation than that of -advancing and again advancing--and always advancing. Whether in sunshine -or in shade, whether on the banks of the Marne or on the woody slopes of -the Argonne, whether north or east, when his division was sent to -reinforce the troops on the frontier, whether lying flat and creeping -along in the plowed fields or on his feet and charging with the bayonet, -he was always going forward and each step was a delivery and each step -was a conquest. - -Each step also increased the hatred in his heart. Oh, how right his -father had been to loathe those people! Paul now saw them at work. On -every side were stupid devastation and unreasoning destruction, on every -side arson, pillage and death, hostages shot, women murdered, bestially, -for the love of the thing. Churches, country-houses, mansions of the -rich and cabins of the poor: nothing remained. The very ruins had been -razed to the ground, the very corpses tortured. - -O the delight of defeating such an enemy! Though reduced to half its -full strength, Paul's regiment, released like a pack of hounds, never -ceased biting at the wild beast which it was hunting. The quarry seemed -more vicious and formidable the nearer it approached to the frontier; -and our men kept rushing at it in the mad hope of giving it the -death-stroke. - -One day Paul read on a sign-post at a cross-roads: - - Corvigny, 14 Kil. - Ornequin, 31 Kil. 400. - The Frontier, 33 Kil. 200. - -Corvigny! Ornequin! A thrill passed through his frame when he saw those -unexpected words. As a rule, absorbed as he was by the heat of the -conflict and by his private cares, he paid little attention to the names -of the places which he passed; and he learnt them only by chance. And -now suddenly he was within so short a distance of the Château -d'Ornequin! "Corvigny, 14 kilometers:" less than nine miles! . . . Were -the French troops making for Corvigny, for the little fortified place -which the Germans had taken by assault and taken under such strange -conditions? - -That day, they had been fighting since daylight against an enemy whose -resistance seemed to grow slacker and slacker. Paul, at the head of a -squad of men, was sent to the village of Bléville with orders to enter -it if the enemy had retired, but go no farther. And it was just beyond -the last houses of the village that he saw the sign-post. - -At the time, he was not quite easy in his mind. A Taube had flown over -the country a few minutes before. There was the possibility of an -ambush. - -"Let's go back to the village," he said. "We'll barricade ourselves -while we wait." - -But there was a sudden noise behind a wooded hill that interrupted the -road in the Corvigny direction, a noise that became more and more -definite, until Paul recognized the powerful throb of a motor, doubtless -a motor carrying a quick-firing gun. - -"Crouch down in the ditch," he cried to his men. "Hide yourselves in the -haystacks. Fix bayonets. And don't move any of you!" - -He had realized the danger of that motor's passing through the village, -plunging in the midst of his company, scattering panic and then making -off by some other way. - -He quickly climbed the split trunk of an old oak and took up his -position in the branches a few feet above the road. - -The motor soon came in sight. It was, as he expected, an armored car, -but one of the old pattern, which allowed the helmets and heads of the -men to show above the steel plating. - -It came along at a smart pace, ready to dart forward in case of alarm. -The men were stooping with bent backs. Paul counted half-a-dozen of -them. The barrels of two Maxim guns projected beyond the car. - -He put his rifle to his shoulder and took aim at the driver, a fat -Teuton with a scarlet face that seemed dyed with blood. Then, when the -moment came, he calmly fired. - -"Charge, lads!" he cried, as he scrambled down from his tree. - -But it was not even necessary to take the car by storm. The driver, -struck in the chest, had had the presence of mind to apply the brakes -and pull up. Seeing themselves surrounded, the Germans threw up their -hands: - -"_Kamerad! Kamerad!_" - -And one of them, flinging down his arms, leapt from the motor and came -running up to Paul: - -"An Alsatian, sergeant, an Alsatian from Strasburg! Ah, sergeant, many's -the day that I've been waiting for this moment!" - -While his men were taking the prisoners to the village, Paul hurriedly -questioned the Alsatian: - -"Where has the car come from?" - -"Corvigny." - -"Any of your people there?" - -"Very few. A rearguard of two hundred and fifty Badeners at the most." - -"And in the forts?" - -"About the same number. They didn't think it necessary to mend the -turrets and now they've been taken unprepared. They're hesitating -whether to try and make a stand or to fall back on the frontier; and -that's why we were sent to reconnoiter." - -"So we can go ahead?" - -"Yes, but at once, else they will receive powerful reinforcements, two -divisions." - -"When?" - -"To-morrow. They're to cross the frontier, to-morrow, about the middle -of the day." - -"By Jove! There's no time to be lost!" said Paul. - -While examining the guns and having the prisoners disarmed and searched, -Paul was considering the best measures to take, when one of his men, who -had stayed behind in the village, came and told him of the arrival of a -French detachment, with a lieutenant in command. - -Paul hastened to tell the officer what had happened. Events called for -immediate action. He offered to go on a scouting expedition in the -captured motor. - -"Very well," said the officer. "I'll occupy the village and arrange to -have the division informed as soon as possible." - -The car made off in the direction of Corvigny, with eight men packed -inside. Two of them, placed in charge of the quick-firing guns, studied -the mechanism. The Alsatian stood up, so as to show his helmet and -uniform clearly, and scanned the horizon on every side. - -All this was decided upon and done in the space of a few minutes, -without discussion and without delaying over the details of the -undertaking. - -"We must trust to luck," said Paul, taking his seat at the wheel. "Are -you ready to see the job through, boys?" - -"Yes; and further," said a voice which he recognized, just behind him. - -It was Bernard d'Andeville, Élisabeth's brother. Bernard belonged to the -9th company; and Paul had succeeded in avoiding him, since their first -meeting, or at least in not speaking to him. But he knew that the -youngster was fighting well. - -"Ah, so you're there?" he said. - -"In the flesh," said Bernard. "I came along with my lieutenant; and, -when I saw you getting into the motor and taking any one who turned up, -you can imagine how I jumped at the chance!" And he added, in a more -embarrassed tone, "The chance of doing a good stroke of work, under your -orders, and the chance of talking to you, Paul . . . for I've been -unlucky so far. . . . I even thought that . . . that you were not as -well-disposed to me as I hoped. . . ." - -"Nonsense," said Paul. "Only I was bothered. . . ." - -"You mean, about Élisabeth?" - -"Yes." - -"I see. All the same, that doesn't explain why there was something -between us, a sort of constraint . . ." - -At that moment, the Alsatian exclaimed: - -"Lie low there! . . . Uhlans ahead! . . ." - -A patrol came trotting down a cross-road, turning the corner of a wood. -He shouted to them, as the car passed: - -"Clear out, Kameraden! Fast as you can! The French are coming!" - -Paul took advantage of the incident not to answer his brother-in-law. He -had forced the pace; and the motor was now thundering along, scaling -the hills and shooting down them like a meteor. - -The enemy detachments became more numerous. The Alsatian called out to -them or else by means of signs incited them to beat an immediate -retreat. - -"It's the funniest thing to see," he said, laughing. "They're all -galloping behind us like mad." And he added, "I warn you, sergeant, that -at this rate we shall dash right into Corvigny. Is that what you want to -do?" - -"No," replied Paul, "we'll stop when the town's in sight." - -"And, if we're surrounded?" - -"By whom? In any case, these bands of fugitives won't be able to oppose -our return." - -Bernard d'Andeville spoke: - -"Paul," he said, "I don't believe you're thinking of returning." - -"You're quite right. Are you afraid?" - -"Oh, what an ugly word!" - -But presently Paul went on, in a gentler voice: - -"I'm sorry you came, Bernard." - -"Is the danger greater for me than for you and the others?" - -"No." - -"Then do me the honor not to be sorry." - -Still standing up and leaning over the sergeant, the Alsatian pointed -with his hand: - -"That spire straight ahead, behind the trees, is Corvigny. I calculate -that, by slanting up the hills on the left, we ought to be able to see -what's happening in the town." - -"We shall see much better by going inside," Paul remarked. "Only it's a -big risk . . . especially for you, Alsatian. If they take you prisoner, -they'll shoot you. Shall I put you down this side of Corvigny?" - -"You haven't studied my face, sergeant." - -The road was now running parallel with the railway. Soon, the first -houses of the outskirts came in sight. A few soldiers appeared. - -"Not a word to these," Paul ordered. "It won't do to startle them . . . -or they'll take us from behind at the critical moment." - -He recognized the station and saw that it was strongly held. Spiked -helmets were coming and going along the avenues that led to the town. - -"Forward!" cried Paul. "If there's any large body of troops, it can only -be in the square. Are the guns ready? And the rifles? See to mine for -me, Bernard. And, at the first signal, independent fire!" - -The motor rushed at full speed into the square. As he expected, there -were about a hundred men there, all massed in front of the church-steps, -near their stacked rifles. The church was a mere heap of ruins; and -almost all the houses in the square had been leveled to the ground by -the bombardment. - -The officers, standing on one side, cheered and waved their hands on -seeing the motor which they had sent out to reconnoiter and whose return -they seemed to be expecting before making their decision about the -defense of the town. There were a good many of them, their number no -doubt including some communication officers. A general stood a head and -shoulders above the rest. A number of cars were waiting some little -distance away. - -The street was paved with cobble-stones and there was no raised pavement -between it and the square. Paul followed it; but, when he was within -twenty yards of the officers, he gave a violent turn of the wheel and -the terrible machine made straight for the group, knocking them down and -running over them, slanted off slightly, so as to take the stacks of -rifles, and then plunged like an irresistible mass right into the middle -of the detachment, spreading death as it went, amid a mad, hustling -flight and yells of pain and terror. - -"Independent fire!" cried Paul, stopping the car. - -And the firing began from this impregnable blockhouse, which had -suddenly sprung up in the center of the square, accompanied by the -sinister crackle of the two Maxim guns. - -In five minutes, the square was strewn with killed and wounded men. The -general and several officers lay dead. The survivors took to their -heels. - -Paul gave the order to cease fire and took the car to the top of the -avenue that led to the station. The troops from the station were -hastening up, attracted by the shooting. A few volleys from the guns -dispersed them. - -Paul drove three times quickly round the square, to examine the -approaches. On every side the enemy was fleeing along the roads and -paths to the frontier. And on every hand the inhabitants of Corvigny -came out of their houses and gave vent to their delight. - -"Pick up and see to the wounded," Paul ordered. "And send for the -bell-ringer, or some one who understands about the bells. It's urgent!" - -An aged sacristan appeared. - -"The tocsin, old man, the tocsin for all you're worth! And, when you're -tired, have some one to take your place! The tocsin, without stopping -for a second!" - -This was the signal which Paul had agreed upon with the French -lieutenant, to announce to the division that the enterprise had -succeeded and that the troops were to advance. - -It was two o'clock. At five, the staff and a brigade had taken -possession of Corvigny and our seventy-fives were firing a few shells. -By ten o'clock in the evening, the rest of the division having come up -meantime, the Germans had been driven out of the Grand Jonas and the -Petit Jonas and were concentrating before the frontier. It was decided -to dislodge them at daybreak. - -"Paul," said Bernard to his brother-in-law, at the evening roll-call, "I -have something to tell you, something that puzzles me, a very queer -thing: you'll judge for yourself. Just now, I was walking down one of -the streets near the church when a woman spoke to me. I couldn't make -out her face or her dress at first, because it was almost dark, but she -seemed to be a peasant-woman from the sound of her wooden shoes on the -cobbles. 'Young man,' she said--and her way of expressing herself -surprised me a little in a peasant-woman--'Young man, you may be able to -tell me something I want to know.' I said I was at her service and she -began, 'It's like this: I live in a little village close by. I heard -just now that your army corps was here. So I came, because I wanted to -see a soldier who belonged to it, only I don't know the number of his -regiment. I believe he has been transferred, because I never get a -letter from him; and I dare say he has not had mine. Oh, if you only -happened to know him! He's such a good lad, such a gallant fellow.' I -asked her to tell me his name; and she answered, 'Delroze, Corporal Paul -Delroze.'" - -"What!" cried Paul. "Did she want me?" - -"Yes, Paul, and the coincidence struck me as so curious that I just gave -her the number of your regiment and your company, without telling her -that we were related. 'Good,' she said. 'And is the regiment at -Corvigny?' I said it had just arrived. 'And do you know Paul Delroze?' -'Only by name,' I answered. I can't tell you why I answered like that, -or why I continued the conversation so as not to let her guess my -surprise: 'He has been promoted to sergeant,' I said, 'and mentioned in -dispatches. That's how I come to have heard his name. Shall I find out -where he is and take you to him?' 'Not yet,' she said, 'not yet. I -should be too much upset.'" - -"What on earth did she mean?" - -"I can't imagine. It struck me as more and more suspicious. Here was a -woman looking for you eagerly and yet putting off the chance of seeing -you. I asked her if she was very much interested in you and she said -yes, that you were her son." - -"Her son!" - -"Up to then I am certain that she did not suspect for a second that I -was cross-examining her. But my astonishment was so great that she drew -back into the shadow, as though to put herself on the defensive. I -slipped my hand into my pocket, pulled out my little electric lamp, went -up to her, pressed the spring and flung the light full in her face. She -seemed disconcerted and stood for a moment without moving. Then she -quickly lowered a scarf which she wore over her head and, with a -strength which I should never have believed, struck me on the arm and -made me drop my lamp. Then came a second of absolute silence. I couldn't -make out where she was: whether in front of me, or on the right or the -left. There was no sound to tell me if she was there still or not. But I -understood presently, when, after picking up my lamp and switching on -the light again, I saw her two wooden shoes on the ground. She had -stepped out of them and run away on her stocking-feet. I hunted for her, -but couldn't find her. She had disappeared." - -Paul had listened to his brother-in-law's story with increasing -attention. - -"Then you saw her face?" he asked. - -"Oh, quite distinctly! A strong face, with black hair and eyebrows and a -look of great wickedness. . . . Her clothes were those of a -peasant-woman, but too clean and too carefully put on: I felt somehow -that they were a disguise." - -"About what age was she?" - -"Forty." - -"Would you know her again?" - -"Without a moment's hesitation." - -"What was the color of the scarf you mentioned?" - -"Black." - -"How was it fastened? In a knot?" - -"No, with a brooch." - -"A cameo?" - -"Yes, a large cameo set in gold. How did you know that?" - -Paul was silent for some time and then said: - -"I will show you to-morrow, in one of the rooms at Ornequin, a portrait -which should bear a striking resemblance to the woman who spoke to you, -the sort of resemblance that exists between two sisters perhaps . . . or -. . . or . . ." He took his brother-in-law by the arm and, leading him -along, continued, "Listen to me, Bernard. There are terrible things -around us, in the present and the past, things that affect my life and -Élisabeth's . . . and yours as well. Therefore, I am struggling in the -midst of a hideous obscurity in which enemies whom I do not know have -for twenty years been pursuing a scheme which I am quite unable to -understand. In the beginning of the struggle, my father died, the victim -of a murder. To-day it is I that am being threatened. My marriage with -your sister is shattered and nothing can bring us together again, just -as nothing will ever again allow you and me to be on those terms of -friendship and confidence which we had the right to hope for. Don't ask -me any questions, Bernard, and don't try to find out any more. One day, -perhaps--and I do not wish that day ever to arrive--you will know why I -begged for your silence." - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -WHAT PAUL SAW AT ORNEQUIN - - -Paul Delroze was awakened at dawn by the bugle-call. And, in the -artillery duel that now began, he at once recognized the sharp, dry -voice of the seventy-fives and the hoarse bark of the German -seventy-sevens. - -"Are you coming, Paul?" Bernard called from his room. "Coffee is served -downstairs." - -The brothers-in-law had found two little bedrooms over a publican's -shop. While they both did credit to a substantial breakfast, Paul told -Bernard the particulars of the occupation of Corvigny and Ornequin which -he had gathered on the evening before: - -"On Wednesday, the nineteenth of August, Corvigny, to the great -satisfaction of the inhabitants, still thought that it would be spared -the horrors of war. There was fighting in Alsace and outside Nancy, -there was fighting in Belgium; but it looked as if the German thrust -were neglecting the route of invasion offered by the valley of the -Liseron. The fact is that this road is a narrow one and apparently of -secondary importance. At Corvigny, a French brigade was busily pushing -forward the defense-works. The Grand Jonas and the Petit Jonas were -ready under their concrete cupolas. Our fellows were waiting." - -"And at Ornequin?" asked Bernard. - -"At Ornequin, we had a company of light infantry. The officers put up at -the house. This company, supported by a detachment of dragoons, -patrolled the frontier day and night. In case of alarm, the orders were -to inform the forts at once and to retreat fighting. The evening of -Wednesday was absolutely quiet. A dozen dragoons had galloped over the -frontier till they were in sight of the little German town of Èbrecourt. -There was not a movement of troops to be seen on that side, nor on the -railway-line that ends at Èbrecourt. The night also was peaceful. Not a -shot was fired. It is fully proved that at two o'clock in the morning -not a single German soldier had crossed the frontier. Well, at two -o'clock exactly, a violent explosion was heard, followed by four others -at close intervals. These explosions were due to the bursting of five -four-twenty shells which demolished straightway the three cupolas of the -Grand Jonas and the two cupolas of the Petit Jonas." - -"What do you mean? Corvigny is fifteen miles from the frontier; and the -four-twenties don't carry as far as that!" - -"That didn't prevent six more shells falling at Corvigny, all on the -church or in the square. And these six shells fell twenty minutes later, -that is to say, at the time when it was to be presumed that the alarm -would have been given and that the Corvigny garrison would have -assembled in the square. This was just what had happened; and you can -imagine the carnage that resulted." - -"I agree; but, once more, the frontier was fifteen miles away. That -distance must have given our troops time to form up again and to prepare -for the attacks foretold by the bombardment. They had at least three or -four hours before them." - -"They hadn't fifteen minutes. The bombardment was not over before the -assault began. Assault isn't the word: our troops, those at Corvigny as -well as those which hastened up from the two forts, were decimated and -routed, surrounded by the enemy, shot down or obliged to surrender, -before it was possible to organize any sort of resistance. It all -happened suddenly under the blinding glare of flash-lights erected no -one knew where or how. And the catastrophe was immediate. You may take -it that Corvigny was invested, attacked, captured and occupied by the -enemy, all in ten minutes." - -"But where did he come from? Where did he spring from?" - -"Nobody knows." - -"But the night-patrols on the frontier? The sentries? The company on -duty at Ornequin?" - -"Never heard of again. No one knows anything, not a word, not a rumor, -about those three hundred men whose business it was to keep watch and to -warn the others. You can reckon up the Corvigny garrison, with the -soldiers who escaped and the dead whom the inhabitants identified and -buried. But the three hundred light infantry of Ornequin disappeared -without leaving the shadow of a trace behind them, not a fugitive, not a -wounded man, not a corpse, nothing at all." - -"It seems incredible. Whom did you talk to?" - -"I saw ten people last night who, for a month, with no one to interfere -with them except a few soldiers of the Landsturm placed in charge of -Corvigny, have pursued a minute inquiry into all these problems, without -establishing so much as a plausible theory. One thing alone is certain: -the business was prepared long ago, down to the slightest detail. The -exact range had been taken of the forts, the cupolas, the church and the -square; and the siege-gun had been placed in position before and -accurately laid so that the eleven shells should strike the eleven -objects aimed at. That's all. The rest is mystery." - -"And what about the château? And Élisabeth?" - -Paul had risen from his seat. The bugles were sounding the morning -roll-call. The gun-fire was twice as intense as before. They both -started for the square; and Paul continued: - -"Here, too, the mystery is bewildering and perhaps worse. One of the -cross-roads that run through the fields between Corvigny and Ornequin -has been made a boundary by the enemy which no one here had the right to -overstep under pain of death." - -"Then Élisabeth . . . ?" - -"I don't know, I know nothing more. And it's terrible, this shadow of -death lying over everything, over every incident. It appears--I have not -been able to find out where the rumor originated--that the village of -Ornequin, near the château, no longer exists. It has been entirely -destroyed, more than that, annihilated; and its four hundred inhabitants -have been sent away into captivity. And then . . ." Paul shuddered and, -lowering his voice, went on, "And then . . . what did they do at the -château? You can see the house, you can still see it at a distance, with -its walls and turrets standing. But what happened behind those walls? -What has become of Élisabeth? For nearly four weeks she has been living -in the midst of those brutes, poor thing, exposed to every outrage! -. . ." - -The sun had hardly risen when they reached the square. Paul was sent for -by his colonel, who gave him the heartiest congratulations of the -general commanding the division and told him that his name had been -submitted for the military cross and for a commission as second -lieutenant and that he was to take command of his section from now. - -"That's all," said the colonel, laughing. "Unless you have any further -request to make." - -"I have two, sir." - -"Go ahead." - -"First, that my brother-in-law here, Bernard d'Andeville, may be at once -transferred to my section as corporal. He's deserved it." - -"Very well. And next?" - -"My second request is that presently, when we move towards the frontier, -my section may be sent to the Château d'Ornequin, which is on the direct -route." - -"You mean that it is to take part in the attack on the château?" - -"The attack?" echoed Paul, in alarm. "Why, the enemy is concentrated -along the frontier, four miles from the château!" - -"So it was believed, yesterday. In reality, the concentration took place -at the Château d'Ornequin, an excellent defensive position where the -enemy is hanging desperately while waiting for his reinforcements to -come up. The best proof is that he's answering our fire. Look at that -shell bursting over there . . . and, farther off, that shrapnel . . . -two . . . three of them. Those are the guns which located the batteries -which we have set up on the surrounding hills and which are now -peppering them like mad. They must have twenty guns there." - -"Then, in that case," stammered Paul, tortured by a horrible thought, -"in that case, that fire of our batteries is directed at . . ." - -"At them, of course. Our seventy-fives have been bombarding the Château -d'Ornequin for the last hour." - -Paul uttered an exclamation of horror: - -"Do you mean to say, sir, that we're bombarding Ornequin? . . ." - -And Bernard d'Andeville, standing beside him, repeated, in an -anguish-stricken voice: - -"Bombarding Ornequin? Oh, how awful!" - -The colonel asked, in surprise: - -"Do you know the place? Perhaps it belongs to you? Is that so? And are -any of your people there?" - -"Yes, sir, my wife." - -Paul was very pale. Though he made an effort to stand stock-still, in -order to master his emotion, his hands trembled a little and his chin -quivered. - -On the Grand Jonas, three pieces of heavy artillery began thundering, -three Rimailho guns, which had been hoisted into position by traction -engines. And this, added to the stubborn work of the seventy-fives, -assumed a terrible significance after Paul Delroze's words. The colonel -and the group of officers around him kept silence. The situation was one -of those in which the fatalities of war run riot in all their tragic -horror, stronger than the forces of nature themselves and, like them, -blind, unjust and implacable. There was nothing to be done. Not one of -those men would have dreamt of asking for the gun-fire to cease or to -slacken its activity. And Paul did not dream of it, either. He merely -said: - -"It looks as if the enemy's fire was slowing down. Perhaps they are -retreating. . . ." - -Three shells bursting at the far end of the town, behind the church, -belied this hope. The colonel shook his head: - -"Retreating? Not yet. The place is too important to them; they are -waiting for reinforcements and they won't give way until our regiments -take part in the game . . . which won't be long now." - -In fact, the order to advance was brought to the colonel a few moments -later. The regiment was to follow the road and deploy in the meadows on -the right. - -"Come along, gentlemen," he said to his officers. "Sergeant Delroze's -section will march in front. His objective will be the Château -d'Ornequin. There are two little short cuts. Take both of them." - -"Very well, sir." - -All Paul's sorrow and rage were intensified in a boundless need for -action; when he marched off with his men, he felt an inexhaustible -strength, felt capable of conquering the enemy's position all by -himself. He moved from one to the other with the untiring hurry of a -sheep-dog hustling his flock. He never ceased advising and encouraging -his men: - -"You're one of the plucky ones, old chap, I know, you're no shirker. -. . . Nor you either . . . Only you think too much about your skin, you -keep grumbling, when you ought to be cheerful. . . . Who's downhearted, -eh? There's a bit more collar-work to do and we're going to do it -without looking behind us, what?" - -Overhead, the shells followed their march in the air, whistling and -moaning and exploding till they formed a sort of canopy of steel and -grape-shot. - -"Duck your heads! Lie down flat!" cried Paul. - -He himself remained standing, indifferent to the flight of the enemy's -shells. But with what terror he listened to our own, those coming from -behind, from all the hills hard by, whizzing ahead of them to carry -destruction and death. Where would this one fall? And that one, where -would its murderous rain of bullets and splinters descend? - -He was obsessed with the vision of his wife, wounded, dying, and kept on -murmuring her name. For many days now, ever since the day when he learnt -that Élisabeth had refused to leave the Château d'Ornequin, he could not -think of her without a loving emotion that was never spoilt by any -impulse of revolt, any movement of anger. He no longer mingled the -detestable memories of the past with the charming reality of his love. -When he thought of the hated mother, the image of the daughter no longer -appeared before his mind. They were two creatures of a different race, -having no connection one with the other. Élisabeth, full of courage, -risking her life to obey a duty to which she attached a value greater -than her life, acquired in Paul's eyes a singular dignity. She was -indeed the woman whom he had loved and cherished, the woman whom he -loved still. - -Paul stopped. He had ventured with his men into an open piece of ground, -probably marked down in advance, which the enemy was now peppering with -shrapnel. A number of men were hit. - -"Halt!" he cried. "Flat on your stomachs, all of you!" - -He caught hold of Bernard: - -"Lie down, kid, can't you? Why expose yourself unnecessarily? . . . Stay -there. Don't move." - -He held him to the ground with a friendly pressure, keeping his arm -round Bernard's neck and speaking to him with gentleness, as though he -were trying to display to the brother all the affection that rose to his -heart for his dear Élisabeth. He forgot the harsh words which he had -addressed to Bernard and uttered quite different words, throbbing with a -fondness which he had denied the evening before: - -"Don't move, youngster. You see, I had no business to bring you with me -or to drag you into this hot place. I'm responsible for you and I'm not -going to have you hurt." - -The fire diminished in intensity. By crawling over the ground, the men -reached a double row of poplars which led them, by a gentle ascent, -towards a ridge intersected by a hollow road. Paul, on climbing the -slope which overlooked the Ornequin plateau, saw the ruins of the -village in the distance, with its shattered church, and, farther to the -left, a wilderness of trees and stones whence rose the walls of a -building. This was the château. On every side around were blazing -farmhouses, haystacks and barns. - -Behind the section, the French troops were scattering forward in all -directions. A battery had taken up its position in the shelter of a wood -close by and was firing incessantly. Paul could see the shells bursting -over the château and among the ruins. - -Unable to bear the sight any longer, he resumed his march at the head of -his section. The enemy's guns had ceased thundering, had doubtless been -reduced to silence. But, when they were well within two miles of -Ornequin, the bullets whistled around them and Paul saw a detachment of -Germans falling back upon the village, firing as they went. And the -seventy-fives and Rimailhos kept on growling. The din was terrible. - -Paul gripped Bernard by the arm and, in a quivering voice, said: - -"If anything happens to me, tell Élisabeth that I beg her to forgive me. -Do you understand? I beg her to forgive me." - -He was suddenly afraid that fate would not allow him to see his wife -again; and he realized that he had behaved to her with unpardonable -cruelty, deserting her as though she were guilty of a fault which she -had not committed and abandoning her to every form of distress and -torment. And he walked on briskly, followed at a distance by his men. - -But, at the spot where the short cut joins the high road, in sight of -the Liseron, a cyclist rode up to him. The colonel had ordered that the -section should wait for the main body of the regiment in order to make -an attack in full force. - -This was the cruelest test of all. Paul, a victim to ever-increasing -excitement, trembled with fever and rage. - -"Come, Paul," said Bernard, "don't work yourself into such a state! We -shall get there in time." - -"In time for what?" he retorted. "To find her dead or wounded? Or not to -find her at all? Oh, hang it, why can't our guns stop their damned row? -What are they shelling, now that the enemy's no longer replying? Dead -bodies and demolished houses! . . ." - -"What about the rearguard covering the German retreat?" - -"Well, aren't we here, the infantry? This is our job. All we have to do -is to send out our sharpshooters and follow up with a good -bayonet-charge. . . ." - -At last the section set out again, reinforced by the remainder of the -ninth company and under the command of the captain. A detachment of -hussars galloped by, pricking towards the village to cut off the -fugitives. The company swerved towards the château. - -Opposite them, all was silent as the grave. Was it a trap? Was there not -every reason to believe that enemy forces, strongly entrenched and -barricaded as these were, would prepare to offer a last resistance? And -yet there was nothing suspicious in the avenue of old oaks that led to -the front court, not a sign of life to be seen or heard. - -Paul and Bernard, still keeping ahead, with their fingers on the -trigger of their rifles, searched the dim light of the underwood with a -keen glance. Columns of smoke rose above the wall, which was now quite -near, yawning with breach upon breach. As they approached, they heard -moans, followed by the heart-rending sound of a death-rattle. It was the -German wounded. - -And suddenly the earth shook as though an inner upheaval had shattered -its crust and from the other side of the wall came a tremendous -explosion, or rather a series of explosions, like so many peals of -thunder. The air was darkened with a cloud of sand and dust which sent -forth all sorts of stones and rubbish. The enemy had blown up the -château. - -"That was meant for us, I expect," said Bernard. "We were to have been -blown up at the same time. They were out in their calculations." - -When they had passed the gate, the sight of the mined court-yard, of the -shattered turrets, of the demolished château, of the out-houses in -flames, of the dying in their last throes and the thickly stacked -corpses of the dead startled them into recoiling. - -"Forward! Forward!" shouted the colonel, galloping up. "There are troops -that must have made off across the park." - -Paul knew the road, which he had covered a few weeks earlier in such -tragic circumstances. He rushed across the lawns, among blocks of stone -and uprooted trees. But, as he passed in sight of a little lodge that -stood at the entrance to the wood, he stopped, nailed to the ground. -And Bernard and all the men stood stupefied, opening their mouths wide -with horror. - -Against the lodge, two corpses rested on their feet, fastened to rings -in the wall by a single chain wound round their waists. Their bodies -were bent over the chains and their arms hung to the ground. - -They were the corpses of a man and a woman. Paul recognized Jérôme and -Rosalie. They had been shot. - -The chain continued beyond them. There was a third ring in the wall. The -plaster was stained with blood and there were visible traces of bullets. -There had been a third victim, without a doubt, and the body had been -removed. - -As he approached, Paul noticed a splinter of bomb-shell embedded in the -plaster. Around the hole thus formed, between the plaster and the -splinter, was a handful of fair hair with golden lights in it, hair torn -from the head of Élisabeth. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -H. E. R. M. - - -Paul's first feeling was an immense need of revenge, then and there, at -all costs, a need outweighing any sense of horror or despair. He gazed -around him, as though all the wounded men who lay dying in the park were -guilty of the monstrous crime: - -"The cowards!" he snarled. "The murderers!" - -"Are you sure," stammered Bernard, "are you sure it's Élisabeth's hair?" - -"Why, of course I am. They've shot her as they shot the two others. I -know them both: it's the keeper and his wife. Oh, the blackguards! -. . ." - -He raised the butt of his rifle over a German dragging himself in the -grass and was about to strike him, when the Colonel came up to him: - -"Hullo, Delroze, what are you doing? Where's your company?" - -"Oh, sir, if you only knew! . . ." - -He rushed up to his colonel. He looked like a madman and brandished his -rifle as he spoke: - -"They've killed her, sir, yes, they've shot my wife. . . . Look, against -the wall there, with the two people who were in her service. . . . -They've shot her. . . . She was twenty years old, sir. . . . Oh, we -must kill them all like dogs!" - -But Bernard was dragging him away: - -"Don't let us waste time, Paul; we can take our revenge on those who are -still fighting. . . . I hear firing over there. Some of them are -surrounded, I expect." - -Paul hardly knew what he was doing. He started running again, drunk with -rage and grief. - -Ten minutes later, he had rejoined his company and was crossing the open -space where his father had been stabbed. The chapel was in front of him. -Farther on, instead of the little door that used to be in the wall, a -great breach had been made, to admit the convoys of wagons for -provisioning the castle. Eight hundred yards beyond it, a violent -rifle-fire crackled over the fields, at the crossing of the road and the -highway. - -A few dozen retreating Germans were trying to force their way through -the hussars who had come by the high road. They were attacked from -behind by Paul's company, but succeeded in taking shelter in a square -patch of trees and copsewood, where they defended themselves with fierce -energy, retiring step by step and dropping one after the other. - -"Why don't they surrender?" muttered Paul, who was firing continually -and who was gradually being calmed by the heat of the fray. "You would -think they were trying to gain time." - -"Look over there!" said Bernard, in a husky voice. - -Under the trees, a motor-car had just come from the frontier, crammed -with German soldiers. Was it bringing reinforcements? No, the motor -turned almost in its own length; and between it and the last of the -combatants stood an officer in a long gray cloak, who, revolver in hand, -exhorted them to persevere in their resistance, while he himself -effected his retreat towards the car sent to his rescue. - -"Look, Paul," Bernard repeated, "look!" - -Paul was dumfounded. That officer to whom Bernard was calling his -attention was . . . but no, it could not be. And yet . . . - -"What do you mean to suggest, Bernard?" he asked. - -"It's the same face," muttered Bernard, "the same face as yesterday, you -know, Paul: the face of the woman who asked me those questions about -you, Paul." - -And Paul on his side recognized beyond the possibility of a doubt the -mysterious individual who had tried to kill him at the little door -leading out of the park, the creature who presented such an -unconceivable resemblance to his father's murderess, to the woman of the -portrait, to Hermine d'Andeville, Élisabeth's mother and Bernard's. - -Bernard raised his rifle to fire. - -"No, don't do that!" cried Paul, terrified at the movement. - -"Why not?" - -"Let's try and take him alive." - -He darted forward in a mad rush of hatred, but the officer had run to -the car. The German soldiers held out their hands and hoisted him into -their midst. Paul shot the one who was seated at the wheel. The officer -caught hold of it just as the car was about to strike a tree, changed -the direction and, skilfully guiding the car past the intervening -obstacles, drove it behind a bend in the ground and from there towards -the frontier. He was saved. - -As soon as he was beyond the range of the bullets, the German soldiers -who were still fighting surrendered. - -Paul was trembling with impotent fury. To him this individual -represented every imaginable form of evil; and, from the first to the -last minute of that long series of tragedies, murders, attempts at -spying and assassination, treacheries and deliberate shootings, all -conceived with the same object and the same spirit, that one figure -stood out as the very genius of crime. - -Nothing short of the creature's death would have appeased Paul's hatred. -It was he, the monster, Paul never entertained a doubt of it, who had -ordered Élisabeth to be shot. Élisabeth shot! Oh, the shame of it! Oh, -infernal vision that tormented him! . . . - -"Who is he?" he cried. "How can we find out? How can we get at him and -torture him and kill him?" - -"Question a prisoner," said Bernard. - -The captain considered it wiser to advance no farther and ordered the -company to fall back, so as to remain in touch with the remainder of the -regiment. Paul was told off specially to occupy the château with his -section and to take the prisoners there. - -He lost no time in questioning two or three non-commissioned officers -and some of the soldiers, as they went. But he could obtain nothing but -a mass of conflicting particulars from them, for they had arrived from -Corvigny the day before and had only spent the night at the château. -They did not even know the name of the officer in the flowing gray cloak -for whom so many of them had sacrificed their lives. He was called the -major; and that was all. - -"But still," Paul insisted, "he was your actual commanding officer?" - -"No. The leader of the rearguard detachment to which we belong is an -Oberleutnant who was wounded by the exploding of the mines, when we ran -away. We wanted to take him with us, but the major objected, leveling -his revolver at us, telling us to march in front of him and threatening -to shoot the first man who left him in the lurch. And just now, while we -were fighting, he stood ten paces behind us and kept threatening us with -his revolver to compel us to defend him. He shot three of us, as a -matter of fact." - -"He was reckoning on the assistance of the car, wasn't he?" - -"Yes; and also on reinforcements which were to save us all, so he said. -But only the car came; and it just saved him." - -"The Oberleutnant would know his name, of course. Is he badly wounded?" - -"He's got a broken leg. We made him comfortable in a lodge in the park." - -"The lodge against which your people put to death . . . those -civilians?" - -"Yes." - -They were nearing the lodge, a sort of little orangery into which the -plants were taken in winter. Rosalie and Jérôme's bodies had been -removed. But the sinister chain was still hanging on the wall, fastened -to the three iron rings; and Paul once more beheld, with a shudder of -dread, the marks left by the bullet and the little splinter of -bomb-shell that kept Élisabeth's hair embedded in the plaster. - -A French bomb-shell! An added horror to the atrocity of the murder! - -It was therefore Paul who, on the day before, by capturing the armored -motor-car and effecting his daring raid on Corvigny, thus opening the -road to the French troops, had brought about the events that ended in -his wife's being murdered! The enemy had revenged himself for his -retreat by shooting the inhabitants of the château! Élisabeth fastened -to the wall by a chain had been riddled with bullets. And, by a hideous -irony, her corpse had received in addition the splinters of the first -shells which the French guns had fired before night-fall, from the top -of the hills near Corvigny. - -Paul pulled out the fragments of shell and removed the golden strands, -which he put away religiously. He and Bernard then entered the lodge, -where the Red Cross men had established a temporary ambulance. They -found the Oberleutnant lying on a truss of straw, well looked after and -able to answer questions. - -One point at once became quite clear, which was that the German troops -which had garrisoned the Château d'Ornequin had, so to speak, never been -in touch at all with those which, the day before, had retreated from -Corvigny and the adjoining forts. The garrison had been evacuated -immediately upon the arrival of the fighting troops, as though to avoid -any indiscretion on the subject of what had happened during the -occupation of the château. - -"At that moment," said the Oberleutnant, who belonged to the fighting -force, not to the garrison, "it was seven o'clock in the evening. Your -seventy-fives had already got the range of the château; and we found no -one there but a number of generals and other officers of superior rank. -Their baggage-wagons were leaving and their motors were ready to leave. -I was ordered to hold out as long as I could to blow up the château. The -major had made all the arrangements beforehand." - -"What was the major's name?" - -"I don't know. He was walking about with a young officer whom even the -generals addressed with respect. This same officer called me over to him -and charged me to obey the major 'as I would the emperor.'" - -"And who was the young officer?" - -"Prince Conrad." - -"A son of the Kaiser's?" - -"Yes. He left the château yesterday, late in the day." - -"And did the major spend the night here?" - -"I suppose so; at any rate, he was there this morning. We fired the -mines and left . . . a bit late, for I was wounded near this lodge . . . -near the wall. . . ." - -Paul mastered his emotion and said: - -"You mean, the wall against which your people shot three French -civilians, don't you?" - -"Yes." - -"When were they shot?" - -"About six o'clock in the afternoon, I believe, before we arrived from -Corvigny." - -"Who ordered them to be shot?" - -"The major." - -Paul felt the perspiration trickling from the top of his head down his -neck and forehead. It was as he thought: Élisabeth had been shot by the -orders of that nameless and more than mysterious individual whose face -was the very image of the face of Hermine d'Andeville, Élisabeth's -mother! - -He went on, in a trembling voice: - -"So there were three people shot? You're quite sure?" - -"Yes, the people of the château. They had been guilty of treachery." - -"A man and two women?" - -"Yes." - -"But there were only two bodies fastened to the wall of the lodge." - -"Yes, only two. The major had the lady of the house buried by Prince -Conrad's orders." - -"Where?" - -"He didn't tell me." - -"But why was she shot?" - -"I understand that she had got hold of some very important secrets." - -"They could have taken her away and kept her as a prisoner." - -"Certainly, but Prince Conrad was tired of her." - -Paul gave a start: - -"What's that you say?" - -The officer resumed, with a smile that might mean anything: - -"Well, damn it all, everybody knows Prince Conrad! He's the Don Juan of -the family. He'd been staying at the château for some weeks and had time -to make an impression, had he not? . . . And then . . . and then to get -tired. . . . Besides, the major maintained that the woman and her two -servants had tried to poison the prince. So you see . . ." - -He did not finish his sentence. Paul was bending over him and, with a -face distorted with rage, took him by the throat and shouted: - -"Another word, you dog, and I'll throttle the life out of you! Ah, you -can thank your stars that you're wounded! . . . If you weren't . . . if -you weren't . . . !" - -And Bernard, beside himself with rage, joined in: - -"Yes, you can think yourself lucky. As for your Prince Conrad, he's a -swine, let me tell you . . . and I mean to tell _him_ so to his face. -. . . He's a swine like all his beastly family and like the whole lot of -you! . . ." - -They left the Oberleutnant utterly dazed and unable to understand a word -of this sudden outburst. But, once outside, Paul had a fit of despair. -His nerves relaxed. All his anger and all his hatred were changed into -infinite depression. He could hardly contain his tears. - -"Come, Paul," exclaimed Bernard, "surely you don't believe a word -. . . ?" - -"No, no, and again no! But I can guess what happened. That drunken brute -of a prince must have tried to make eyes at Élisabeth and to take -advantage of his position. Just think! A woman, alone and defenseless: -that was a conquest worth making! What tortures the poor darling must -have undergone, what humiliations! . . . A daily struggle, with threats -and brutalities. . . . And, at the last moment, death, to punish her for -her resistance. . . ." - -"We shall avenge her, Paul," said Bernard, in a low voice. - -"We shall; but shall I ever forget that it was on my account, through my -fault, that she stayed here? I will explain what I mean later on; and -you will understand how hard and unjust I have been. . . . And yet -. . ." - -He stood gloomily thinking. He was haunted by the image of the major and -he repeated: - -"And yet . . . and yet . . . there are things that seem so strange. -. . ." - - * * * * * - -All that afternoon, French troops kept streaming in through the valley -of the Liseron and the village of Ornequin in order to resist any -counter-attack by the enemy. Paul's section was resting; and he and -Bernard took advantage of this to make a minute search in the park and -among the ruins of the château. But there was no clue to reveal to them -where Élisabeth's body lay hidden. - -At five o'clock, they gave Rosalie and Jérôme a decent burial. Two -crosses were set up on a little mound strewn with flowers. An army -chaplain came and said the prayers for the dead. And Paul was moved to -tears when he knelt on the grave of those two faithful servants whose -devotion had been their undoing. - -Then also Paul promised to avenge. And his longing for vengeance evoked -in his mind, with almost painful intensity, the hated image of the -major, that image which had now become inseparable from his -recollections of the Comtesse d'Andeville. - -He led Bernard away from the grave and asked: - -"Are you sure that you were not mistaken in connecting the major and the -supposed peasant-woman who questioned you at Corvigny?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Then come with me. I told you of a woman's portrait. We will go and -look at it and you shall tell me what impression it makes upon you." - -Paul had noticed that that part of the castle which contained Hermine -d'Andeville's bedroom and boudoir had not been entirely demolished by -the explosion of either the mines or shells. It was possible that the -boudoir was still in its former condition. - -The staircase had been destroyed; and they had to clamber up the -shattered masonry in order to reach the first floor. Traces of the -corridor were visible here and there. All the doors were gone; and the -rooms presented an appearance of pitiful chaos. - -"It's here," said Paul, pointing to an open place between two pieces of -wall that remained standing as by a miracle. - -It was indeed Hermine d'Andeville's boudoir, shattered and dilapidated, -cracked from top to bottom and filled with plaster and rubbish, but -quite recognizable and containing all the furniture which Paul had -noticed on the evening of his marriage. The window-shutters darkened the -room partly, but there was enough light for Paul to see the whereabouts -of the wall opposite. And he at once exclaimed: - -"The portrait has been taken away!" - -It was a great disappointment to him and, at the same time, a proof of -the great importance which his enemy attached to the portrait, which -could only have been removed because it constituted an overwhelming -piece of evidence. - -"I assure you," said Bernard, "that this does not affect my opinion in -the least. There was no need to verify my conviction about the major and -that peasant-woman at Corvigny. Whose portrait was it?" - -"I told you, a woman." - -"What woman? Was it a picture which my father hung there, one of the -pictures of his collection?" - -"That was it," said Paul, welcoming the opportunity of throwing his -brother-in-law off the scent. - -Opening one of the shutters, he saw a mark on the wall of the -rectangular space which the picture used to occupy; and he was able to -perceive, from certain details, that the removal had been effected in a -hurry. For instance, the gilt scroll had dropped from the frame and was -lying on the floor. Paul picked it up stealthily so that Bernard should -not see the inscription engraved upon it. - -But, while he was examining the panel more attentively after Bernard had -unfastened the other shutter, he gave an exclamation. - -"What's the matter?" asked Bernard. - -"There . . . look . . . that signature on the wall . . . where the -picture was: a signature and a date." - -It was written in pencil; two lines across the white plaster, at a man's -height. The date, "Wednesday evening, 16 September, 1914," followed by -the signature: "Major Hermann." - -Major Hermann! Even before Paul was aware of it, his eyes had seized -upon a detail in which all the significance of those two lines of -writing was concentrated; and, while Bernard came forward to look in his -turn, he muttered, in boundless surprise: - -"Hermann! . . . Hermine! . . ." - -The two words were almost alike. Hermine began with the same letters as -the Christian or surname which the major had written, after his rank, on -the wall. Major Hermann! The Comtesse Hermine! H, E, R, M: The four -letters on the dagger with which Paul had nearly been killed! H, E, R, -M: the four letters on the dagger of the spy whom he had captured in the -church-steeple! - -Bernard said: - -"It looks to me like a woman's writing. But, if so. . . ." And he -continued thoughtfully, "If so . . . what conclusion are we to draw? -Either the peasant-woman and Major Hermann are one and the same person, -which means that the peasant-woman is a man or that the major is not, or -else we are dealing with two distinct persons, a woman and a man. I -believe that is how it is, in spite of the uncanny resemblance between -that man and that woman. For, after all, how can we suppose that the -same person can have written this signature yesterday evening, passed -through the French lines and spoken to me at Corvigny disguised as a -peasant-woman . . . and then be able to return here, disguised as a -German major, blow up the house, take to flight and, after killing some -of his own soldiers, make his escape in a motor-car?" - -Paul, absorbed by his thoughts, did not answer. Presently he went into -the adjoining room, which separated the boudoir from the set of rooms -which his wife had occupied. Of these nothing remained except debris. -But the room in between had not suffered so very much; and it was very -easy to see, by the wash-hand-stand and the condition of the bed, that -it was used as a bedroom and that some one had slept in it the night -before. - -On the table Paul found some German newspapers and a French one, dated -10 September, in which the _communiqué_ telling of the great victory of -the Marne was struck out with two great dashes in red pencil and -annotated with the word "Lies!" followed by the initial H. - -"We're in Major Hermann's room right enough," said Paul to Bernard. - -"And Major Hermann," Bernard declared, "burnt some compromising papers -last night. Look at that heap of ashes in the fire-place." He stooped -and picked up a few envelopes, a few half-burnt sheets of paper -containing consecutive words, nothing but incoherent sentences. On -turning his eyes to the bed, however, he saw under the bolster a parcel -of clothes hidden or perhaps forgotten in the hurry of departure. He -pulled them out and at once cried: "I say, just look at this!" - -"At what?" asked Paul, who was searching another part of the room. - -"These clothes, look, peasant clothes, the clothes I saw on the woman at -Corvigny. There's no mistaking them: they are the same brown color and -the same sort of serge stuff. And then here's the black-lace scarf which -I told you about. . . ." - -"What's that?" exclaimed Paul, running up to him. - -"Here, see for yourself, it's a scarf of sorts and not one of the -newest, either. How worn and torn it is! And the brooch I described to -you is still in it. Do you see?" - -Paul had noticed the brooch at once with the greatest horror. What a -terrible significance it lent to the discovery of the clothes in the -room occupied by Major Hermann, the room next to Hermine d'Andeville's -boudoir! The cameo was carved with a swan with its wings outspread and -was set in a gold snake with ruby eyes. Paul had known that cameo since -his early boyhood, from seeing it in the dress of the woman who killed -his father, and he knew it also because he had seen it again, with every -smallest detail reproduced, in the Comtesse Hermine's portrait. And now -he was finding the actual brooch, stuck in the black-lace scarf among -the Corvigny peasant-woman's clothes and left behind in Major Hermann's -room! - -"This completes the evidence," said Bernard. "The fact that the clothes -are here proves that the woman who asked me about you came back here -last night; but what is the connection between her and that officer who -is her living likeness? Is the person who questioned me about you the -same as the individual who ordered Élisabeth to be shot two hours -earlier? And who are these people? What band of murderers and spies have -we run up against?" - -"They are simply Germans," was Paul's reply. "To them spying and -murdering are natural and permissible forms of warfare . . . in a war, -mark you, which they began and are carrying on in the midst of a -perfectly peaceful period. I have told you so before, Bernard: we have -been the victims of war for nearly twenty years. My father's murder -opened the tragedy. And to-day we are mourning our poor Élisabeth. And -that is not the end of it." - -"Still," said Bernard, "he has taken to flight." - -"We shall see him again, be sure of that. If he doesn't come back, I -will go and find him. And, when that day comes. . . ." - -There were two easy-chairs in the room. Paul and Bernard resolved to -spend the night there and, without further delay, wrote their names on -the wall of the passage. Then Paul went back to his men, in order to see -that they were comfortably settled in the barns and out-houses that -remained standing. Here the soldier who served as his orderly, a decent -Auvergnat called Gériflour, told him that he had dug out two pairs of -sheets and a couple of clean mattresses from a little house next to the -guard-room and that the beds were ready. Paul accepted the offer for -Bernard and himself. It was arranged that Gériflour and one of his -companions should go to the château and sleep in the two easy-chairs. - -The night passed without any alarm. It was a feverish and sleepless -night for Paul, who was haunted by the thought of Élisabeth. In the -morning he fell into a heavy slumber, disturbed by nightmares. The -reveille woke him with a start. Bernard was waiting for him. - -The roll was called in the courtyard of the château. Paul noticed that -his orderly, Gériflour, and the other man were missing. - -"They must be asleep," he said to Bernard. "Let's go and shake them -awake." - -They went back, through the ruins, to the first floor and along the -demolished bedroom. In the room which Major Hermann had occupied they -found Private Gériflour, huddled on the bed, covered with blood, dead. -His friend was lying back in one of the chairs, also dead. There was no -disorder, no trace of a struggle around the bodies. The two soldiers -must have been killed in their sleep. - -Paul at once saw the weapon with which they had been murdered. It was a -dagger with the letters H, E, R, M. on the handle. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -ÉLISABETH'S DIARY - - -This double murder, following upon a series of tragic incidents all of -which were closely connected, was the climax to such an accumulation of -horrors and of shocking disasters that the two young men did not utter a -word or stir a limb. Death, whose breath they had already felt so often -on the battlefield, had never appeared to them under a more hateful or -forbidding guise. - -Death! They beheld it, not as an insidious disease that strikes at -hazard, but as a specter creeping in the shadow, watching its adversary, -choosing its moment and raising its arm with deliberate intention. And -this specter bore for them the very shape and features of Major Hermann. - -When Paul spoke at last, his voice had the dull, scared tone that seems -to summon up the evil powers of darkness: - -"He came last night. He came and, as we had written our names on the -wall, the names of Bernard d'Andeville and Paul Delroze which represent -the names of two enemies in his eyes, he took the opportunity to rid -himself of those two enemies. Persuaded that it was you and I who were -sleeping in this room, he struck . . . and those whom he struck were -poor Gériflour and his friend, who have died in our stead." - -After a long pause, he whispered: - -"They have died as my father died . . . and as Élisabeth died . . . and -the keeper also and his wife; and by the same hand, by the same hand, -Bernard, do you understand? . . . Yes, it's inadmissible, is it not? My -brain refuses to admit it. . . . And yet it is always the same hand that -holds the dagger . . . then and now." - -Bernard examined the dagger. At the sight of the four letters, he said: - -"That stands for Hermann, I suppose? Major Hermann?" - -"Yes," said Paul, eagerly. "Is it his real name, though? And who is he -actually? I don't know. But what I do know is that the criminal who -committed all those murders is the same who signs with these four -letters, H, E, R, M." - -After giving the alarm to the men of his section and sending to inform -the chaplain and the surgeons, Paul resolved to ask for a private -interview with his colonel and to tell him the whole of the secret -story, hoping that it might throw some light on the execution of -Élisabeth and the assassination of the two soldiers. But he learnt that -the colonel and his regiment were fighting on the other side of the -frontier and that the 3rd Company had been hurriedly sent for, all but -a detachment which was to remain at the château under Sergeant Delroze's -orders. Paul therefore made his own investigation with his men. - -It yielded nothing. There was no possibility of discovering the least -clue to the manner in which the murderer had made his way first into the -park, next into the ruins and lastly into the bedroom. As no civilian -had passed, were they to conclude that the perpetrator of the two crimes -was one of the privates of the 3rd company? Obviously not. And yet what -other theory was there to adopt? - -Nor did Paul discover anything to tell him of his wife's death or of the -place where she was buried. And this was the hardest trial of all. - -He encountered the same ignorance among the German wounded as among the -prisoners. They had all heard of the execution of a man and two women, -but they had all arrived after the execution and after the departure of -the troops that occupied the château. - -He went on to the village, thinking that they might know something -there; that the inhabitants had some news to tell of the lady of the -château, of the life she led, of her martyrdom and death. But Ornequin -was empty, with not a woman even, not an old man left in it. The enemy -must have sent all the inhabitants into Germany, doubtless from the -start, with the manifest object of destroying every witness to his -actions during the occupation and of creating a desert around the -château. - -Paul in this way devoted three days to the pursuit of fruitless -inquiries. - -"And yet," he said to Bernard, "Élisabeth cannot have disappeared -entirely. Even if I cannot find her grave, can I not find the least -trace of her existence? She lived here. She suffered here. I would give -anything for a relic of her." - -They had succeeded in fixing upon the exact site of the room in which -she used to sleep and even, in the midst of the ruins, the exact heap of -stones and plaster that remained of it. It was all mixed up with the -wreckage of the ground-floor rooms, into which the first-floor ceilings -had been precipitated; and it was in this chaos, under the pile of walls -and furniture reduced to dust and fragments, that one morning he picked -up a little broken mirror, followed by a tortoise-shell hair-brush, a -silver pen-knife and a set of scissors, all of which had belonged to -Élisabeth. - -But what affected him even more was the discovery of a thick diary, in -which he knew that his wife, before her marriage, used to note down her -expenses, the errands or visits that had to be remembered and, -occasionally, some more private details of her life. Now all that was -left of her diary was the binding, with the date, 1914, and the part -containing the entries for the first seven months of the year. All the -sheets for the last five months had been not torn out but removed -separately from the strings that fastened them to the binding. - -Paul at once thought to himself: - -"They were removed by Élisabeth, removed at her leisure, at a time when -there was no hurry and when she merely wished to use those pages for -writing on from day to day. What would she want to write? Just those -more personal notes which she used formerly to put down in her diary -between the entry of a disbursement and a receipt. And as there can have -been no accounts to keep since my departure and as her existence was -nothing but a hideous tragedy, there is no doubt that she confided her -distress to those pages, her complaints, possibly her shrinking from -me." - -That day, in Bernard's absence, Paul increased the thoroughness of his -search. He rummaged under every stone and in every hole. The broken -slabs of marble, the twisted lustres, the torn carpets, the beams -blackened by the flames, he lifted them all. He persisted for hours. He -divided the ruins into sections which he examined patiently in rotation; -and, when the ruins refused to answer his questions, he renewed his -minute investigations in the ground. - -His efforts were useless; and Paul knew that they were bound to be so. -Élisabeth must have attached far too much value to those pages not to -have either destroyed them or hidden them beyond the possibility of -discovery. Unless: - -"Unless," he said to himself, "they have been stolen from her. The major -must have kept a constant watch upon her. And, in that case, who knows?" - -An idea occurred to Paul's mind. After finding the peasant-woman's -clothes and black lace scarf, he had left them on the bed, attaching no -further importance to them; and he now asked himself if the major, on -the night when he had murdered the two soldiers, had not come with the -intention of fetching away the clothes, or at least the contents of -their pockets, which he had not been able to do because they were hidden -under Private Gériflour, who was sleeping on the top of them. Now Paul -seemed to remember that, when unfolding that peasant's skirt and bodice, -he had noticed a rustling of paper in one of the pockets. Was it not -reasonable to conclude that this was Élisabeth's diary, which had been -discovered and stolen by Major Hermann? - -Paul hastened to the room in which the murders had been committed, -snatched up the clothes and looked through them: - -"Ah," he at once exclaimed, with genuine delight, "here they are!" - -There was a large, yellow envelope filled with the pages removed from -the diary. These were crumpled and here and there torn; and Paul saw at -a glance that the pages corresponded only with the months of August and -September and that even some days in each of these months were missing. - -And he saw Élisabeth's handwriting. - -It was not a full or detailed diary. It consisted merely of notes, poor -little notes in which a bruised heart found an outlet. At times, when -they ran to greater length, an extra page had been added. The notes had -been jotted down by day or night, anyhow, in ink and pencil; they were -sometimes hardly legible; and they gave the impression of a trembling -hand, of eyes veiled with tears and of a mind crazed with suffering. - -Paul was moved to the very depths of his being. He was alone and he -read: - - - "_Sunday, 2 August._ - - "He ought not to have written me that letter. It is - too cruel. And why does he suggest that I should leave - Ornequin? The war? Does he think that, because there - is a chance of war, I shall not have the courage to - stay here and do my duty? How little he knows me! Then - he must either think me a coward or believe me capable - of suspecting my poor mother! . . . Paul, dear Paul, - you ought not to have left me. . . . - - - "_Monday, 3 August._ - - "Jérôme and Rosalie have been kinder and more - thoughtful than ever, now that the servants are gone. - Rosalie begged and prayed that I should go away, too. - - "'And what about yourselves, Rosalie?' I said. 'Will - you go?' - - "'Oh, we're people who don't matter, we have nothing - to fear! Besides, our place is here.' - - "I said that so was mine; but I saw that she could not - understand. - - "Jérôme, when I meet him, shakes his head and looks at - me sadly. - - - "_Tuesday, 4 August._ - - "I have not the least doubt of what my duty is. I - would rather die than turn my back on it. But how am I - to fulfil that duty and get at the truth? I am full of - courage; and yet I am always crying, as though I had - nothing better to do. The fact is that I am always - thinking of Paul. Where is he? What has become of him? - When Jérôme told me this morning that war was - declared, I thought that I should faint. So Paul is - going to fight. He will be wounded perhaps. He may be - killed. God knows if my true place is not somewhere - near him, in a town close to where he is fighting! - What have I to hope for in staying here? My duty to my - mother, yes, I know. Ah, mother, I beseech your - forgiveness . . . but, you see, I love my husband and - I am so afraid of anything happening to him! . . . - - - "_Thursday, 6 August._ - - "Still crying. I grow unhappier every day. But I feel - that, even if I became still more so, I would not - desist. Besides, how can I go to him when he does not - want to have anything more to do with me and does not - even write? Love me? Why, he loathes me! I am the - daughter of a woman whom he hates above all things in - the world. How unspeakably horrible! If he thinks like - that of my mother and if I fail in my task, we shall - never see each other again! That is the life I have - before me. - - - "_Friday, 7 August._ - - "I have made Jérôme and Rosalie tell me all about - mother. They only knew her for a few weeks, but they - remember her quite well; and what they said made me - feel so happy! She was so good, it seems, and so - pretty; everybody worshiped her. - - "'She was not always very cheerful,' said Rosalie. 'I - don't know if it was her illness already affecting her - spirits, but there was something about her, when she - smiled, that went to one's heart.' - - "My poor, darling mother! - - - "_Saturday, 8 August._ - - "We heard the guns this morning, a long way off. They - are fighting 25 miles away. - - "Some French soldiers have arrived. I had seen some of - them pretty often from the terrace, marching down the - Liseron Valley. But these are going to stay at the - house. The captain made his apologies. So as not to - inconvenience me, he and his lieutenants will sleep - and have their meals in the lodge where Jérôme and - Rosalie used to live. - - - "_Sunday, 9 August._ - - "Still no news of Paul. I have given up trying to - write to him either. I don't want him to hear from me - until I have all the proofs. But what am I to do? How - can I get proofs of something that happened seventeen - years ago? Hunt about, think and reflect as I may, I - can find nothing. - - - "_Monday, 10 August._ - - "The guns never ceased booming in the distance. - Nevertheless, the captain tells me that there is - nothing to make one expect an attack by the enemy on - this side. - - - "_Tuesday, 11 August._ - - "A sentry posted in the woods, near the little door - leading out of the estate, has just been - killed--stabbed with a knife. They think that he must - have been trying to stop a man who wanted to get out - of the park. But how did the man get in? - - - "_Wednesday, 12 August._ - - "What can be happening? Here is something that has - made a great impression on me and seems impossible to - understand. There are other things besides which are - just as perplexing, though I can't say why. I am much - astonished that the captain and all his soldiers whom - I meet appear so indifferent and should even be able - to make jokes among themselves. I feel the sort of - depression that comes over one when a storm is at - hand. There must be something wrong with my nerves. - - "Well, this morning. . . ." - -Paul stopped reading. The lower portion of the page containing the last -few lines and the whole of the next page were torn out. It looked as if -the major, after stealing Élisabeth's diary, had, for reasons best known -to himself, removed the pages in which she set forth a certain incident. - -The diary continued: - - - "_Friday, 14 August._ - - "I felt I must tell the captain. I took him to the - dead tree covered with ivy and asked him to lie down - on the ground and listen. He did so very patiently and - attentively. But he heard nothing and ended by saying: - - "'You see, madame, that everything is absolutely - normal.' - - "'I assure you,' I answered, 'that two days ago there - was a confused sound from this tree, just at this - spot. And it lasted for several minutes.' - - "He replied, smiling as he spoke: - - "'We could easily have the tree cut down. But don't - you think, madame, that in the state of nervous - tension in which we all are we are liable to make - mistakes; that we are subject to hallucinations? For, - after all, where could the sound come from?' - - "Of course, he was right. And yet I had heard and seen - for myself. . . . - - - "_Saturday, 15 August._ - - "Yesterday, two German officers were brought in and - were locked up in the wash-house, at the end of the - yard. This morning, there was nothing in the - wash-house but their uniforms. One can understand - their breaking open the door. But the captain has - found out that they made their escape in French - uniforms and that they passed the sentries, saying - that they had been sent to Corvigny. - - "Who can have supplied them with those uniforms? - Besides, they had to know the password: who can have - given them that? - - "It appears that a peasant woman called several days - in succession with eggs and milk, a woman rather too - well-dressed for her station, and that she hasn't been - here to-day. But there is nothing to prove her - complicity. - - - "_Sunday, 16 August._ - - "The captain has been strongly urging me to go away. - He is no longer cheerful. He seems very much - preoccupied: - - "'We are surrounded by spies,' he said. 'And there is - every sign of the possibility of a speedy attack. Not - a big attack, intended to force a way through to - Corvigny, but an attempt to take the château by - surprise. It is my duty to warn you, madame, that we - may be compelled at any moment to fall back on - Corvigny and that it would be most imprudent for you - to stay.' - - "I answered that nothing would change my resolution. - Jérôme and Rosalie also implored me to leave. But what - is the good? I intend to remain." - -Once again Paul stopped. There was a page missing in this section of the -diary; and the next page, the one headed 18 August, was torn at the top -and the bottom and contained only a fragment of what Élisabeth had -written on that day: - - ". . . and that is why I have not spoken of it in the - letter which I have just sent to Paul. He will know - that I am staying on and the reasons for my decision; - but he must not know of my hopes. - - "Those hopes are still so vague and built on so - insignificant a detail. Still, I feel overjoyed. I do - not realize the meaning of that detail, but I feel its - importance. The captain is hurrying about, increasing - the patrols; the soldiers are polishing their arms and - crying out for the battle; the enemy may be taking up - his quarters at Èbrecourt, as they say: what do I - care? I have only one thought: have I found the key? - Am I on the right road? Let me think. . . ." - -The page was torn here, at the place where Élisabeth was about to -explain things exactly. Was this a precautionary measure on Major -Hermann's part? No doubt; but why? - -The first part of the page headed 19 August was likewise torn. The -nineteenth was the day before t on which the Germans had carried -Ornequin, Corvigny and the whole district by assault. What had Élisabeth -written on that Wednesday afternoon? What had she discovered? What was -preparing in the darkness? - -Paul felt a dread at his heart. He remembered that the first gunshot had -thundered over Corvigny at two o'clock in the morning on Thursday and it -was with an anxious mind that he read, on the second half of the page: - - - "_11 p. m._ - - "I have got up and opened my window. Dogs are barking - on every side. They answer one another, stop, seem to - be listening and then begin howling again as I have - never heard them do before. When they cease, the - silence becomes impressive and I listen in my turn to - try and catch the indistinct sounds that keep them - awake. - - "Those sounds seem to my ears also to exist. It is - something different from the rustling of the leaves. - It has nothing to do with the ordinary interruption to - the dead silence of the night. It comes from I can't - tell where; and the impression it makes on me is so - powerful that I ask myself at the same time whether I - am just listening to the beating of my heart or - whether I am hearing what might be the distant tramp - of a marching army. - - "Oh, I must be mad! A marching army! And our outposts - on the frontier? And our sentries all around the - château? Why, there would be fighting, firing! . . . - - - "_1 a. m._ - - "I did not stir from the window. The dogs were no - longer barking. Everything was asleep. And suddenly I - saw some one come from under the trees and go across - the lawn. I at first imagined it was one of our - soldiers. But, when whoever it was passed under my - window, there was just enough light in the sky for me - to make out a woman's figure. I thought for a moment - of Rosalie. But no, the figure was taller and moved - with a lighter and quicker step. - - "I was on the point of waking Jérôme and giving the - alarm. I did not, however. The figure had disappeared - in the direction of the terrace. And all at once there - came the cry of a bird, which struck me as strange. - This was followed by a light that darted into the sky, - like a shooting star springing from the ground. - - "After that, nothing. Silence, general restfulness. - Nothing more. And yet I dare not go back to bed. I am - frightened, without knowing why. All sorts of dangers - seem to come rushing from every corner of the horizon. - They draw closer, they surround me, they hem me in, - they suffocate me, crush me, I can't breathe. I'm - frightened . . . I'm frightened. . . ." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -A SPRIG OF EMPIRE - - -Paul clutched with convulsive fingers the heart-breaking diary to which -Élisabeth had confided her anguish: - -"The poor angel!" he thought. "What she must have gone through! And this -is only the beginning of the road that led to her death. . . ." - -He dreaded reading on. The hours of torture were near at hand, menacing -and implacable, and he would have liked to call out to Élisabeth: - -"Go away, go away! Don't defy Fate! I have forgotten the past. I love -you." - -It was too late. He himself, through his cruelty, had condemned her to -suffer; and he must go on to the bitter end and witness every station of -the Calvary of which he knew the last, terrifying stage. - -He hastily turned the pages. There were first three blank leaves, those -dated 20, 21 and 22 August: days of confusion during which she had been -unable to write. The pages of the 23rd and 24th were missing. These no -doubt recounted what had happened and contained revelations concerning -the inexplicable invasion. - -The diary began again at the middle of a torn page, the page belonging -to Tuesday the 25th: - - "'Yes, Rosalie, I feel quite well and I thank you for - looking after me so attentively.' - - "'Then there's no more fever?' - - "'No, Rosalie, it's gone.' - - "'You said the same thing yesterday, ma'am, and the - fever came back . . . perhaps because of that visit. - . . . But the visit won't be to-day . . . it's not - till to-morrow. . . . I was told to let you know, - ma'am. . . . At 5 o'clock to-morrow. . . .' - - "I made no answer. What is the use of rebelling? None - of the humiliating words that I shall have to hear - will hurt me more than what lies before my eyes: the - lawn invaded, horses picketed all over it, baggage - wagons and caissons in the walks, half the trees - felled, officers sprawling on the grass, drinking and - singing, and a German flag flapping from the balcony - of my window, just in front of me. Oh, the wretches! - - "I close my eyes so as not to see. And that makes it - more horrible still. . . . Oh, the memory of that - night . . . and, in the morning, when the sun rose, - the sight of all those dead bodies! Some of the poor - fellows were still alive, with those monsters dancing - round them; and I could hear the cries of the dying - men asking to be put out of their misery. - - "And then. . . . But I won't think of it or think of - anything that can destroy my courage and my hope. - . . . - - "Paul, I always have you in my mind as I write my - diary. Something tells me that you will read it if - anything happens to me; and so I must have strength to - go on with it and to keep you informed from day to - day. Perhaps you can already understand from my story - what to me still seems very obscure. What is the - connection between the past and the present, between - the murder of long ago and the incomprehensible attack - of the other night? I don't know. I have told you the - facts in detail and also my theories. You will draw - your conclusions and follow up the truth to the end. - - - "_Wednesday, 26 August._ - - "There is a great deal of noise in the château. People - are moving about everywhere, especially in the rooms - above my bedroom. An hour ago, half a dozen motor vans - and the same number of motor cars drove onto the lawn. - The vans were empty. Two or three ladies sprang out of - each of the cars, German women, waving their hands and - laughing noisily. The officers ran up to welcome them; - and there were loud expressions of delight. Then they - all went to the house. What do they want? - - "But I hear footsteps in the passage. . . . It is 5 - o'clock. . . . Somebody is knocking at the door. . . . - - * * * * * - - "There were five of them: he first and four officers - who kept bowing to him obsequiously. He said to them, - in a formal tone: - - "'Attention, gentlemen. . . . I order you not to touch - anything in this room or in the other rooms reserved - for madame. As for the rest, except in the two big - drawing-rooms, it is yours. Keep anything here that - you want and take away what you please. It is war and - the law of war.' - - "He pronounced those words, 'The law of war,' in a - tone of fatuous conviction and repeated: - - "'As for madame's private apartments, not a thing is - to be moved. Do you understand? I know what is - becoming.' - - "He looked at me as though to say: - - "'What do you think of that? There's chivalry for you! - I could take it all, if I liked; but I'm a German and, - as such, I know what's becoming.' - - "He seemed to expect me to thank him. I said: - - "'Is this the pillage beginning? That explains the - empty motor vans.' - - "'You don't pillage what belongs to you by the law of - war,' he answered. - - "'I see. And the law of war does not extend to the - furniture and pictures in the drawing-rooms?' - - "He turned crimson. Then I began to laugh: - - "'I follow you,' I said. 'That's your share. Well - chosen. Nothing but rare and valuable things. The - refuse your servants can divide among them.' - - "The officers turned round furiously. He became redder - still. He had a face that was quite round, hair, which - was too light, plastered down with grease and divided - in the middle by a faultless parting. His forehead - was low; and I was able to guess the effort going on - behind it, to find a repartee. At last he came up to - me and, in a voice of triumph, said: - - "'The French have been beaten at Charleroi, beaten at - Morange, beaten everywhere. They are retreating all - along the line. The upshot of the war is settled.' - - "Violent though my grief was, I did not wince. I - whispered: - - "'You low blackguard!' - - "He staggered. His companions caught what I said; and - I saw one put his hand on his sword-hilt. But what - would he himself do? What would he say? I could feel - that he was greatly embarrassed and that I had wounded - his self-esteem. - - "'Madame,' he said, 'I daresay you don't know who I - am?' - - "'Oh, yes!' I answered. 'You are Prince Conrad, a son - of the Kaiser's. And what then?' - - "He made a fresh attempt at dignity. He drew himself - up. I expected threats and words to express his anger; - but no, his reply was a burst of laughter, the - affected laughter of a high and mighty lord, too - indifferent, too disdainful to take offense, too - intelligent to lose his temper. - - "'The dear little Frenchwoman! Isn't she charming, - gentlemen? Did you hear what she said? The - impertinence of her! There's your true Parisian, - gentlemen, with all her roguish grace.' - - "And, making me a great bow, with not another word, he - stalked away, joking as he went: - - "'Such a dear little Frenchwoman! Ah, gentlemen, those - little Frenchwomen! . . .' - - * * * * * - - "The vans were at work all day, going off to the - frontier laden with booty. It was my poor father's - wedding present to us, all his collections so - patiently and fondly brought together; it was the dear - setting in which Paul and I were to have lived. What a - wrench the parting means to me! - - "The war news is bad! I cried a great deal during the - day. - - "Prince Conrad came. I had to receive him, for he sent - me word by Rosalie that, if I refused to see him, the - inhabitants of Ornequin would suffer the - consequences." - -Here Élisabeth again broke off her diary. Two days later, on the 29th, -she went on: - - "He came yesterday. To-day also. He tries to appear - witty and cultured. He talks literature and music, - Goethe, Wagner and so on. . . . I leave him to do his - own talking, however; and this throws him in such a - state of fury that he ended by exclaiming: - - "'Can't you answer? It's no disgrace, even for a - Frenchwoman, to talk to Prince Conrad of Prussia!' - - "'A woman doesn't talk to her gaoler.' - - "He protested briskly: - - "'But, dash it all, you're not in prison!' - - "'Can I leave the château?' - - "'You can walk about . . . in the grounds. . . .' - - "'Between four walls, therefore, like a prisoner.' - - "'Well, what do you want to do?' - - "'To go away from here and live . . . wherever you - tell me to: at Corvigny, for instance.' - - "'That is to say, away from me!' - - "As I did not answer, he bent forward a little and - continued, in a low voice: - - "'You hate me, don't you? Oh, I'm quite aware of it! - I've made a study of women. Only, it's Prince Conrad - whom you hate, isn't it? It's the German, the - conqueror. For, after all, there's no reason why you - should dislike the man himself. . . . And, at this - moment, it's the man who is in question, who is trying - to please you . . . do you understand? . . . So. - . . .' - - "I had risen to my feet and faced him. I did not speak - a single word; but he must have seen in my eyes so - great an expression of disgust that he stopped in the - middle of his sentence, looking absolutely stupid. - Then, his nature getting the better of him, he shook - his fist at me, like a common fellow, and went off - slamming the door and muttering threats. . . ." - -The next two pages of the diary were missing. Paul was gray in the face. -He had never suffered to such an extent as this. It seemed to him as -though his poor dear Élisabeth were still alive before his eyes and -feeling his eyes upon her. And nothing could have upset him more than -the cry of distress and love which marked the page headed: - - - _1 September._ - - "Paul, my own Paul, have no fear. Yes, I tore up those - two pages because I did not wish you ever to know such - revolting things. But that will not estrange you from - me, will it? Because a savage dared to insult me, that - is no reason, surely, why I should not be worthy of - your love? Oh, the things he said to me, Paul, only - yesterday: his offensive remarks, his hateful threats, - his even more infamous promises . . . and then his - rage! . . . No, I will not repeat them to you. In - making a confidant of this diary, I meant to confide - to you my daily acts and thoughts. I believed that I - was only writing down the evidence of my grief. But - this is something different; and I have not the - courage. . . . Forgive my silence. It will be enough - for you to know the offense, so that you may avenge me - later. Ask me no more. . . ." - -And, pursuing this intention, Élisabeth now ceased to describe Prince -Conrad's daily visits in detail; but it was easy to perceive from her -narrative that the enemy persisted in hovering round her. It consisted -of brief notes in which she no longer let herself go as before, notes -which she jotted down at random, marking the days herself, without -troubling about the printed headings. - -Paul trembled as he read on. And fresh revelations aggravated his dread: - - - "_Thursday._ - - "Rosalie asks them the news every morning. The French - retreat is continuing. They even say that it has - developed into a rout and that Paris has been - abandoned. The government has fled. We are done for. - - - "_Seven o'clock in the evening._ - - "He is walking under my windows as usual. He has with - him a woman whom I have already seen many times at a - distance and who always wears a great peasant's cloak - and a lace scarf which hides her face. But, as a rule, - when he walks on the lawn he is accompanied by an - officer whom they call the major. This man also keeps - his head concealed, by turning up the collar of his - gray cloak. - - - "_Friday._ - - "The soldiers are dancing on the lawn, while their - band plays German national hymns and the bells of - Ornequin are kept ringing with all their might. They - are celebrating the entrance of their troops into - Paris. It must be true, I fear! Their joy is the best - proof of the truth. - - - "_Saturday._ - - "Between my rooms and the boudoir where mother's - portrait used to hang is the room that was mother's - bedroom. This is now occupied by the major. He is an - intimate friend of the prince and an important person, - so they say. The soldiers know him only as Major - Hermann. He does not humble himself in the prince's - presence as the other officers do. On the contrary, he - seems to address him with a certain familiarity. - - "At this minute they are walking side by side on the - gravel path. The prince is leaning on Major Hermann's - arm. I feel sure that they are talking about me and - that they are not at one. It looks almost as if Major - Hermann were angry. - - - "_Ten o'clock in the morning._ - - "I was right. Rosalie tells me that they had a violent - scene. - - - "_Tuesday, 8 September._ - - "There is something strange in the behavior of all of - them. The prince, the major and the other officers - appear to be nervous about something. The soldiers - have ceased singing. There are sounds of quarreling. - Can things be turning in our favor?" - - - "_Thursday._ - - "The excitement is increasing. It seems that couriers - keep on arriving at every moment. The officers have - sent part of their baggage into Germany. I am full of - hope. But, on the other hand. . . . - - "Oh, my dear Paul, if you knew the torture those - visits cause me! . . . He is no longer the bland and - honey-mouthed man of the early days. He has thrown off - the mask. . . . But, no, no, I will not speak of that! - . . . - - - "_Friday._ - - "The whole of the village of Ornequin has been packed - off to Germany. They don't want a single witness to - remain of what happened during the awful night which I - described to you. - - - "_Sunday evening._ - - "They are defeated and retreating far from Paris. He - confessed as much, grinding his teeth and uttering - threats against me as he spoke. I am the hostage on - whom they are revenging themselves. . . . - - - "_Tuesday._ - - "Paul, if ever you meet him in battle, kill him like a - dog. But do those people fight? Oh, I don't know what - I'm saying! My head is going round and round. Why did - I stay here? You ought to have taken me away, Paul, by - force. . . . - - "Paul, what do you think he has planned? Oh, the - dastard! They have kept twelve of the Ornequin - villagers as hostages; and it is I, it is I who am - responsible for their lives! . . . Do you understand - the horror of it? They will live, or they will be - shot, one by one, according to my behavior. . . . The - thing seems too infamous to believe. Is he only trying - to frighten me? Oh, the shamefulness of such a threat! - What a hell to find one's self in! I would rather - die. . . . - - - "_Nine o'clock in the evening._ - - "Die? No! Why should I die? Rosalie has been. Her - husband has come to an understanding with one of the - sentries who will be on duty to-night at the little - door in the wall, beyond the chapel. Rosalie is to - wake me up at three in the morning and we shall run - away to the big wood, where Jérôme knows of an - inaccessible shelter. Heavens, if we can only succeed! - . . . - - - "_Eleven o'clock._ - - "What has happened? Why have I got up? It's only a - nightmare. I am sure of that; and yet I am shaking - with fever and hardly able to write. . . . And why am - I afraid to drink the glass of water by my bedside, as - I am accustomed to do when I cannot sleep? - - "Oh, such an abominable nightmare! How shall I ever - forget what I saw while I slept? For I was asleep, - that is certain. I had lain down to get a little rest - before running away; and I saw that woman's ghost in a - dream. . . . A ghost? It must have been one, for only - ghosts can enter through a bolted door; and her steps - made so little noise as she crept over the floor that - I scarcely heard the faintest rustling of her skirt. - - "What had she come to do? By the glimmer of my - night-light I saw her go round the table and walk up - to my bed, cautiously, with her head lost in the - darkness of the room. I was so frightened that I - closed my eyes, in order that she might believe me to - be asleep. But the feeling of her very presence and - approach increased within me; and I was able clearly - to follow all her doings. She stooped over me and - looked at me for a long time, as though she did not - know me and wanted to study my face. How was it that - she did not hear the frantic beating of my heart? I - could hear hers and also the regular movement of her - breath. The agony I went through! Who was the woman? - What was her object? - - "She ceased her scrutiny and went away, but not very - far. Through my eyelids I could half see her bending - beside me, occupied in some silent task; and at last I - became so certain that she was no longer watching me - that I gradually yielded to the temptation to open my - eyes. I wanted, if only for a second, to see her face - and what she was doing. - - "I looked; and Heaven only knows by what miracle I had - the strength to keep back the cry that tried to force - its way through my lips! The woman who stood there and - whose features I was able to make out plainly by the - light of the night-light was. . . . - - "Ah, I can't write anything so blasphemous! If the - woman had been beside me, kneeling down, praying, and - I had seen a gentle face smiling through its tears, I - should not have trembled before that unexpected vision - of the dead. But this distorted, fierce, infernal - expression, hideous with hatred and wickedness: no - sight in the world could have filled me with greater - terror. And it is perhaps for this reason, because - the sight was so extravagant and unnatural, that I did - not cry out and that I am now almost calm. _At the - moment when my eyes saw, I understood that I was the - victim of a nightmare._ - - "Mother, mother, you never wore and you never can wear - that expression. You were kind and gentle, were you - not? You used to smile; and, if you were still alive, - you would now be wearing that same kind and gentle - look? Mother, darling, since the terrible night when - Paul recognized your portrait, I have often been back - to that room, to learn to know my mother's face, which - I had forgotten: I was so young, mother, when you - died! And, though I was sorry that the painter had - given you a different expression from the one I should - have liked to see, at least it was not the wicked and - malignant expression of just now. Why should you hate - me? I am your daughter. Father has often told me that - we had the same smile, you and I, and also that your - eyes would grow moist with tears when you looked at - me. So you do not loathe me, do you? And I did dream, - did I not? - - "Or, at least, if I was not dreaming when I saw a - woman in my room, I was dreaming when that woman - seemed to me to have your face. It was a delirious - hallucination, it must have been. I had looked at your - portrait so long and thought of you so much that I - gave the stranger the features which I knew; and it - was she, not you, who bore that hateful expression. - - "And so I sha'n't drink the water. What she poured - into it must have been poison . . . or perhaps a - powerful sleeping-drug which would make me helpless - against the prince. . . . And I cannot but think of - the woman who sometimes walks with him. . . . - - "As for me, I know nothing, I understand nothing, my - thoughts are whirling in my tired brain. . . . - - "It will soon be three o'clock. . . . I am waiting for - Rosalie. It is a quiet night. There is not a sound in - the house or outside. . . . - - "It is striking three. Ah, to be away from this! . . . - To be free! . . ." - - - - -CHAPTER X - -75 OR 155? - - -Paul Delroze anxiously turned the page, as though hoping that the plan -of escape might have proved successful; and he received, as it were, a -fresh shock of grief on reading the first lines, written the following -morning, in an almost illegible hand: - - "We were denounced, betrayed. . . . Twenty men were - spying on our movements. . . . They fell upon us like - brutes. . . . I am now locked up in the park lodge. A - little lean-to beside it is serving as a prison for - Jérôme and Rosalie. They are bound and gagged. I am - free, but there are soldiers at the door. I can hear - them speaking to one another. - - - "_Twelve mid-day._ - - "It is very difficult for me to write to you, Paul. - The sentry on duty opens the door and watches my every - movement. They did not search me, so I was able to - keep the leaves of my diary; and I write to you - hurriedly, by scraps at a time, in a dark corner. - . . . - - "My diary! Shall you find it, Paul? Will you know all - that has happened and what has become of me? If only - they don't take it from me! . . . - - "They have brought me bread and water! I am still - separated from Rosalie and Jérôme. They have not given - them anything to eat. - - - "_Two o'clock._ - - "Rosalie has managed to get rid of her gag. She is now - speaking to me in an undertone through the wall. She - heard what the men who are guarding us said and she - tells me that Prince Conrad left last night for - Corvigny; that the French are approaching and that the - soldiers here are very uneasy. Are they going to - defend themselves, or will they fall back towards the - frontier? . . . It was Major Hermann who prevented our - escape. Rosalie says that we are done for. . . . - - - "_Half-past two._ - - "Rosalie and I had to stop speaking. I have just asked - her what she meant, why we should be done for. She - maintains that Major Hermann is a devil: - - "'Yes, devil,' she repeated. 'And, as he has special - reasons for acting against you. . . .' - - "'What reasons, Rosalie?' - - "'I will explain later. But you may be sure that if - Prince Conrad does not come back from Corvigny in time - to save us, Major Hermann will seize the opportunity - to have all three of us shot. . . .'" - -Paul positively roared with rage when he saw the dreadful word set down -in his poor Élisabeth's hand. It was on one of the last pages. After -that there were only a few sentences written at random, across the -paper, obviously in the dark, sentences that seemed breathless as the -voice of one dying: - - "The tocsin! . . . The wind carries the sound from - Corvigny. . . . What can it mean? . . . The French - troops? . . . Paul, Paul, perhaps you are with them! - . . . - - "Two soldiers came in, laughing: - - "'Lady's _kaput_! . . . All three _kaput_! . . . Major - Hermann said so: they're _kaput_!' - - "I am alone again. . . . We are going to die. . . . - But Rosalie wants to talk to me and daren't. . . . - - - "_Five o'clock._ - - "The French artillery. . . . Shells bursting round the - château. . . . Oh, if one of them could hit me! . . . - I hear Rosalie's voice. . . . What has she to tell me? - What secret has she discovered? - - "Oh, horror! Oh, the vile truth! Rosalie has spoken. - Dear God, I beseech Thee, give me time to write. . . . - Paul, you could never imagine. . . . You must be told - before I die. . . . Paul. . . ." - -The rest of the page was torn out; and the following pages, to the end -of the month, were blank. Had Élisabeth had the time and the strength -to write down what Rosalie had revealed to her? - -This was a question which Paul did not even ask himself. What cared he -for those revelations and the darkness that once again and for good -shrouded the truth which he could no longer hope to discover? What cared -he for vengeance or Prince Conrad or Major Hermann or all those savages -who tortured and slew women? Élisabeth was dead. She had, so to speak, -died before his eyes. Nothing outside that fact was worth a thought or -an effort. Faint and stupefied by a sudden fit of cowardice, his eyes -still fixed on the diary in which his poor wife had jotted down the -phases of the most cruel martyrdom imaginable, he felt an immense -longing for death and oblivion steal slowly over him. Élisabeth was -calling to him. Why go on fighting? Why not join her? - -Then some one tapped him on the shoulder. A hand seized the revolver -which he was holding; and Bernard said: - -"Drop that, Paul. If you think that a soldier has the right to kill -himself at the present time, I will leave you free to do so when you -have heard what I have to say." - -Paul made no protest. The temptation to die had come to him, but almost -without his knowing it; and, though he would perhaps have yielded to it, -in a moment of madness, he was still in the state of mind in which a man -soon recovers his consciousness. - -"Speak," he said. - -"It will not take long. Three minutes will give me time to explain. -Listen to me. I see, from the writing, that you have found a diary kept -by Élisabeth. Does it confirm what you knew?" - -"Yes." - -"When Élisabeth wrote it, was she threatened with death as well as -Jérôme and Rosalie?" - -"Yes." - -"And all three were shot on the day when you and I arrived at Corvigny, -that is to say, on Wednesday, the sixteenth?" - -"Yes." - -"It was between five and six in the afternoon, on the day before the -Thursday when we arrived here, at the Château d'Ornequin?" - -"Yes, but why these questions?" - -"Why? Look at this, Paul. I took from you and I hold in my hand the -splinter of shell which you removed from the wall of the lodge at the -exact spot where Élisabeth was shot. Here it is. There was a lock of -hair still sticking to it." - -"Well?" - -"Well, I had a talk just now with an adjutant of artillery, who was -passing by the château; and the result of our conversation and of his -inspection was that the splinter does not belong to a shell fired from a -75-centimeter gun, but to a shell fired from a 155-centimeter gun, a -Rimailho." - -"I don't understand." - -"You don't understand, because you don't know or because you have -forgotten what my adjutant reminded me of. On the Corvigny day, -Wednesday the sixteenth, the batteries which opened fire and dropped a -few shells on the château at the moment when the execution was taking -place were all batteries of seventy-fives; and our one-five-five -Rimailhos did not fire until the next day, Thursday, while we were -marching against the château. Therefore, as Élisabeth was shot and -buried at about 6 o'clock on the Wednesday evening, it is physically -impossible for a splinter of a shell fired from a Rimailho to have taken -off a lock of her hair, because the Rimailhos were not fired until the -Thursday morning." - -"Then you mean to say. . . ." murmured Paul, in a husky voice. - -"I mean to say, how can we doubt that the Rimailho splinter was picked -up from the ground on the Thursday morning and deliberately driven into -the wall among some locks of hair cut off on the evening before?" - -"But you're crazy, Bernard! What object can there have been in that?" - -Bernard gave a smile: - -"Well, of course, the object of making people think that Élisabeth had -been shot when she hadn't." - -Paul rushed at him and shook him: - -"You know something, Bernard, or you wouldn't be laughing! Can't you -speak? How do you account for the bullets in the wall of the lodge? And -the iron chain? And that third ring?" - -"Just so. There were too many stage properties. When an execution takes -place, does one see marks of bullets like that? And did you ever find -Élisabeth's body? How do you know that they did not take pity on her -after shooting Jérôme and his wife? Or who can tell? Some one may have -interfered. . . ." - -Paul felt some little hope steal over him. Élisabeth, after being -condemned to death by Major Hermann, had perhaps been saved by Prince -Conrad, returning from Corvigny before the execution. - -He stammered: - -"Perhaps . . . yes . . . perhaps. . . . And then there's this: Major -Hermann knew of our presence at Corvigny--remember your meeting with -that peasant woman--and wanted Élisabeth at any rate to be dead for us, -so that we might give up looking for her. I expect Major Hermann -arranged those properties, as you call them. How can I tell? Have I any -right to hope?" - -Bernard came closer to him and said, solemnly: - -"It's not hope, Paul, that I'm bringing you, but a certainty. I wanted -to prepare you for it. And now listen. My reason for asking those -questions of the artillery adjutant was that I might check facts which I -already knew. Yes, when I was at Ornequin village just now, a convoy of -German prisoners arrived from the frontier. I was able to exchange a few -words with one of them who had formed part of the garrison of the -château. He had seen things, therefore. He knew. Well, Élisabeth was -not shot. Prince Conrad prevented the execution." - -"What's that? What's that?" cried Paul, overcome with joy. "You're quite -sure? She's alive?" - -"Yes, alive. . . . They've taken her to Germany." - -"But since then? For, after all, Major Hermann may have caught up with -her and succeeded in his designs." - -"No." - -"How do you know?" - -"Through that prisoner. The French lady whom he had seen here he saw -this morning." - -"Where?" - -"Not far from the frontier, in a village just outside Èbrecourt, under -the protection of the man who saved her and who is certainly capable of -defending her against Major Hermann." - -"What's that?" repeated Paul, but in a dull voice this time and with a -face distorted with anger. - -"Prince Conrad, who seems to take his soldiering in a very amateurish -spirit--he is looked upon as an idiot, you know, even in his own -family--has made Èbrecourt his headquarters and calls on Élisabeth every -day. There is no fear, therefore. . . ." But Bernard interrupted -himself, and asked in amazement, "Why, what's the matter? You're gray in -the face." - -Paul took his brother-in-law by the shoulders and shouted: - -"Élisabeth is lost. Prince Conrad has fallen in love with her--we heard -that before, you know; and her diary is one long cry of distress--he has -fallen in love with her and he never lets go his prey. Do you -understand? He will stop at nothing!" - -"Oh, Paul, I can't believe. . . ." - -"At nothing, I tell you. He is not only an idiot, but a scoundrel and a -blackguard. When you read the diary you will understand. . . . But -enough of words, Bernard. What we have to do is to act and to act at -once, without even taking time to reflect." - -"What do you propose?" - -"To snatch Élisabeth from that man's clutches, to deliver her." - -"Impossible." - -"Impossible? We are not eight miles from the place where my wife is a -prisoner, exposed to that rascal's insults, and you think that I am -going to stay here with my arms folded? Nonsense! We must show that we -have blood in our veins! To work, Bernard! And if you hesitate I shall -go alone." - -"You will go alone? Where?" - -"To Èbrecourt. I don't want any one with me. I need no assistance. A -German uniform will be enough. I shall cross the frontier in the dark. I -shall kill the enemies who have to be killed and to-morrow morning -Élisabeth shall be here, free." - -Bernard shook his head and said, gently: - -"My poor Paul!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean that I should have been the first to agree and that we should -have rushed to Élisabeth's rescue together, without counting the risk. -Unfortunately. . . ." - -"What?" - -"Well, it's this, Paul: there is no intention on our side of taking a -more vigorous offensive. They've sent for reserve and territorial -regiments; and we are leaving." - -"Leaving?" stammered Paul, in dismay. - -"Yes, this evening. Our division is to start from Corvigny this evening -and go I don't know where . . . to Rheims, perhaps, or Arras. North and -west, in short. So you see, my poor chap, your plan can't be realized. -Come, buck up. And don't look so distressed. It breaks my heart to see -you. After all, Élisabeth isn't in danger. She will know how to defend -herself. . . ." - -Paul did not answer. He remembered Prince Conrad's abominable words, -quoted by Élisabeth in her diary: - -"It is war. It is the law, the law of war." - -He felt the tremendous weight of that law bearing upon him, but he felt -at the same time that he was obeying it in its noblest and loftiest -phase, the sacrifice of the individual to everything demanded by the -safety of the nation. - -The law of war? No, the duty of war; and a duty so imperious that a man -does not discuss it and that, implacable though it be, he must not even -allow the merest quiver of a complaint to stir in his secret soul. -Whether Élisabeth was faced by death or by dishonor did not concern -Sergeant Paul Delroze and could not make him turn for a second from the -path which he was ordered to follow. He was a soldier first and a man -afterwards. He owed no duty save to France, his sorely-stricken and -beloved country. - -He carefully folded up Élisabeth's diary and went out, followed by his -brother-in-law. - -At nightfall he left the Château d'Ornequin. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -"YSERY, MISERY" - - -Toul, Bar-le-Duc, Vitry-le-François. . . . The little towns sped past as -the long train carried Paul and Bernard westwards into France. Other, -numberless trains came before or after theirs, laden with troops and -munitions of war. They reached the outskirts of Paris and turned north, -passing through Beauvais, Amiens and Arras. - -It was necessary that they should arrive there first, on the frontier, -to join the heroic Belgians and to join them as high up as possible. -Every mile of ground covered was so much territory snatched from the -invader during the long immobilized war that was in preparation. - -Second Lieutenant Paul Delroze--he had received his new rank in the -course of the railway journey--accomplished the northward march as it -were in a dream, fighting every day, risking his life every minute, -leading his men with irresistible dash, but all as though he were doing -it without his own cognizance, in obedience to the automatic operation -of a predetermined will. - -While Bernard continued to stake his life with a laugh, as though in -play, keeping up his comrade's courage with his own light-hearted pluck, -Paul remained speechless and absent. Everything--fatigue, privations, -the weather--seemed to him a matter of indifference. - -Nevertheless, it was an immense delight, as he would sometimes confess -to Bernard, to be going towards the fighting line. He had the feeling -that he was making for a definite object, the only one that interested -him: Élisabeth's deliverance. Even though he was attacking this frontier -and not the other, the eastern frontier, he was still rushing with all -the strength of his hatred against the detested enemy. Whether that -enemy was defeated here or there made little difference. In either case, -Élisabeth would be free. - -"We shall succeed," said Bernard. "You may be sure that Élisabeth will -outwit that swine. Meanwhile, we shall stampede the Huns, make a dash -across Belgium, take Conrad in the rear and capture Èbrecourt. Doesn't -the proposal make you smile? Oh, no, you never smile, do you, when you -demolish a Hun? Not you! You've got a little way of laughing that tells -me all about it. I say to myself, 'There's a bullet gone home,' or -'That's done it: he's got one at the end of his toothpick!' For you've a -way of your own of sticking them. Ah, lieutenant, how fierce we grow! -Simply through practise in killing! And to think that it makes us -laugh!" - -Roye, Lassigny, Chaulnes. . . . Later, the Bassée Canal and the River -Lys. . . . And, later and at last, Ypres. Ypres! Here the two lines met, -extended towards the sea. After the French rivers, after the Marne, the -Aisne, the Oise and the Somme, a little Belgian stream was to run red -with young men's blood. The terrible battle of the Yser was beginning. - -Bernard, who soon won his sergeant's stripes, and Paul Delroze lived in -this hell until the early days of December. Together with half a dozen -Parisians, a volunteer soldier, a reservist and a Belgian called -Laschen, who had escaped from Roulers and joined the French in order to -get at the enemy more quickly, they formed a little band who seemed -proof against fire. Of the whole section commanded by Paul, only these -remained; and, when the section was re-formed, they continued to group -together. They claimed all the dangerous expeditions. And each time, -when their task was fulfilled, they met again, safe and sound, without a -scratch, as though they brought one another luck. - -During the last fortnight, the regiment, which had been pushed to the -extreme point of the front, was flanked by the Belgian lines on the one -side and the British lines on the other. Heroic assaults were delivered. -Furious bayonet charges were made in the mud, even in the water of the -flooded fields; and the Germans fell by the thousand and the ten -thousand. - -Bernard was in the seventh heaven: - -"Tommy," he said to a little English soldier who was advancing by his -side one day under a hail of shot and who did not understand a single -word of French, "Tommy, no one admires the Belgians more than I do, but -they don't stagger me, for the simple reason that they fight in our -fashion; that is to say, like lions. The fellows who stagger me are you -English beggars. You're different, you know. You have a way of your own -of doing your work . . . and such work! No excitement, no fury. You keep -all that bottled up. Oh, of course, you go mad when you retreat: that's -when you're really terrible! You never gain as much ground as when -you've lost a bit. Result: mashed Boches!" - -He paused and then continued: - -"I give you my word, Tommy, it fills us with confidence to have you by -our side. Listen and I'll tell you a great secret. France is getting -lots of applause just now; and she deserves it. We are all standing on -our legs, holding our heads high and without boasting. We wear a smile -on our faces and are quite calm, with clean souls and bright eyes. Well, -the reason why we don't flinch, why we have confidence nailed to our -hearts, is that you are with us. It's as I say, Tommy. Look here, do you -know at what precise moment France felt just a little shaking at the pit -of her stomach? During the retreat from Belgium? Not a bit of it! When -Paris was within an ace of being sacked? Not at all. You give it up? -Well, it was on the first day or two. At that time, you see, we knew, -without saying so, without admitting it even to ourselves, that we were -done for. There was no help for it. No time to prepare ourselves. Done -for was what we were. And, though I say it as shouldn't, France behaved -well. She marched straight to death without wincing, with her brightest -smile and as gaily as if she were marching to certain victory. _Ave, -Cæsar, morituri te salutant!_ Die? Why not, since our honor demands it? -Die to save the world? Right you are! And then suddenly London rings us -up on the telephone. 'Hullo! Who are you?' 'It's England speaking.' -'Well?' 'Well, I'm coming in.' 'You don't mean it?' 'I do--with my last -ship, with my last man, with my last shilling.' Then . . . oh, then -there was a sudden change of front! Die? Rather not! No question of that -now! Live, yes, and conquer! We two together will settle fate. From that -day, France did not know a moment's uneasiness. The retreat? A trifle. -Paris captured? A mere accident! One thing alone mattered: the final -result. Fighting against England and France, there's nothing left for -you Huns to do but go down on your knees. Here, Tommy, I'll start with -that one: the big fellow at the foot of the tree. Down on your knees, -you big fellow! . . . Hi! Tommy! Where are you off to? Calling you, are -they? Good-by, Tommy. My love to England!" - -It was on the evening of that day, as the 3rd company were skirmishing -near Dixmude, that an incident occurred which struck the two -brothers-in-law as very odd. Paul suddenly felt a violent blow in the -right side, just above the hip. He had no time to bother about it. But, -on retiring to the trenches, he saw that a bullet had passed through the -holster of his revolver and flattened itself against the barrel. Now, -judging from the position which Paul had occupied, the bullet must have -been fired from behind him; that is to say, by a soldier belonging to -his company or to some other company of his regiment. Was it an -accident? A piece of awkwardness? - -Two days later, it was Bernard's turn. Luck protected him, too. A bullet -went through his knapsack and grazed his shoulder-blade. - -And, four days after that, Paul had his cap shot through: and, this time -again, the bullet came from the French lines. - -There was no doubt about it therefore. The two brothers-in-law had -evidently been aimed at; and the traitor, a criminal in the enemy's pay, -was concealed in the French ranks. - -"It's as sure as eggs," said Bernard. "You first, then I, then you -again. There's a touch of Hermann about this. The major must be at -Dixmude." - -"And perhaps the prince, too," observed Paul. - -"Very likely. In any case, one of their agents has slipped in amongst -us. How are we to get at him? Tell the colonel?" - -"If you like, Bernard, but don't speak of ourselves and of our private -quarrel with the major. I did think for a moment of going to the -colonel about it, but decided not to, as I did not want to drag in -Élisabeth's name." - -There was no occasion, however, for them to warn their superiors. Though -the attempts on the lives of Paul and Bernard were not repeated, there -were fresh instances of treachery every day. French batteries were -located and attacked; their movements were forestalled; and everything -proved that a spying system had been organized on a much more methodical -and active scale than anywhere else. They felt certain of the presence -of Major Hermann, who was evidently one of the chief pivots of the -system. - -"He is here," said Bernard, pointing to the German lines. "He is here -because the great game is being played in those marshes and because -there is work for him to do. And also he is here because we are." - -"How would he know?" Paul objected. - -And Bernard rejoined: - -"How could he fail to know?" - -One afternoon there was a meeting of the majors and the captains in the -cabin which served as the colonel's quarters. Paul Delroze was summoned -to attend it and was told that the general commanding the division had -ordered the capture of a little house, standing on the left bank of the -canal, which in ordinary times was inhabited by a ferryman. The Germans -had strengthened and were holding it. The fire of their distant -batteries, set up on a height on the other side, defended this -block-house, which had formed the center of the fighting for some days. -It had become necessary to take it. - -"For this purpose," said the colonel, "we have called for a hundred -volunteers from the African companies. They will set out to-night and -deliver the assault to-morrow morning. Our business will be to support -them at once and, once the attack has succeeded, to repel the -counter-attacks, which are sure to be extremely violent because of the -importance of the position. You all of you know the position, gentlemen. -It is separated from us by the marshes which our African volunteers will -enter to-night . . . up to their waists, one might say. But to the right -of the marshes, alongside of the canal, runs a tow-path by which we will -be able to come to the rescue. This tow-path has been swept by the guns -on both sides and is free for a great part. Still, half a mile before -the ferryman's house there is an old lighthouse which was occupied by -the Germans until lately and which we have just destroyed with our -gun-fire. Have they evacuated it entirely? Is there a danger of -encountering an advance post there? It would be a good thing if we could -find out; and I thought of you, Delroze." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"It's not a dangerous job, but it's a delicate one; and it will have to -make certain. I want you to start to-night. If the old lighthouse is -occupied, come back. If not, send for a dozen reliable men and hide -them carefully until we come up. It will make an excellent base." - -"Very well, sir." - -Paul at once made his arrangements, called together his little band of -Parisians and volunteers who, with the reservist and Laschen the -Belgian, formed his usual command, warned them that he would probably -want them in the course of the night and, at nine o'clock in the -evening, set out, accompanied by Bernard d'Andeville. - -The fire from the enemy's guns kept them for a long time on the bank of -the canal, behind a huge, uprooted willow-trunk. Then an impenetrable -darkness gathered round them, so much so that they could not even -distinguish the water of the canal. - -They crept rather than walked along, for fear of unexpected flashes of -light. A slight breeze was blowing across the muddy fields and over the -marshes, which quivered with the whispering of the reeds. - -"It's pretty dreary here," muttered Bernard. - -"Hold your tongue." - -"As you please, lieutenant." - -Guns kept booming at intervals for no reason, like dogs barking to make -a noise amid the deep, nervous silence; and other guns at once barked -back furiously, as if to make a noise in their turn and to prove that -they were not asleep. - -And once more peace reigned. Nothing stirred in space. It was as though -the very grass of the marshes had ceased to wave. And yet Bernard and -Paul seemed to perceive the slow progress of the African volunteers who -had set out at the same time as themselves, their long halts in the -middle of the icy waters, their stubborn efforts. - -"Drearier and drearier," sighed Bernard. - -"You're very impressionable to-night," said Paul. - -"It's the Yser. You know what the men say: 'Yysery, misery!'" - -They dropped to the ground suddenly. The enemy was sweeping the path and -the marshes with search-lights. There were two more alarms; and at last -they reached the neighborhood of the old lighthouse without impediment. - -It was half-past eleven. With infinite caution they stole in between the -demolished blocks of masonry and soon perceived that the post had been -abandoned. Nevertheless, they discovered, under the broken steps of the -staircase, an open trap-door and a ladder leading to a cellar which -revealed gleams of swords and helmets. But Bernard, who was piercing the -darkness from above with the rays of his electric lamp, declared: - -"There's nothing to fear, they're dead. The Huns must have thrown them -in, after the recent bombardment." - -"Yes," said Paul. "And we must be prepared for the fact that they may -send for the bodies. Keep guard on the Yser side, Bernard." - -"And suppose one of the beggars is still alive?" - -"I'll go down and see." - -"Turn out their pockets," said Bernard, as he moved away, "and bring us -back their note-books. I love those. They're the best indications of the -state of their souls . . . or rather of their stomachs." - -Paul went down. The cellar was a fairly large one. Half-a-dozen bodies -lay spread over the floor, all lifeless and cold. Acting on Bernard's -advice, he turned out the pockets and casually inspected the note-books. -There was nothing interesting to attract his attention. But in the tunic -of the sixth soldier whom he examined, a short, thin man, shot right -through the head, he found a pocket-book bearing the name of Rosenthal -and containing French and Belgian bank-notes and a packet of letters -with Spanish, Dutch and Swiss postage stamps. The letters, all of which -were in German, had been addressed to a German agent residing in France, -whose name did not appear, and sent by him to Private Rosenthal, on -whose body Paul discovered them. This private was to pass them on, -together with a photograph, to a third person, referred to as his -excellency. - -"Secret Service," said Paul, looking through them. "Confidential -information. . . . Statistics. . . . What a pack of scoundrels!" - -But, on glancing at the pocket-book again, he saw an envelope which he -tore open. Inside was a photograph; and Paul's surprise at the sight of -it was so great that he uttered an exclamation. It represented the woman -whose portrait he had seen in the locked room at Ornequin, the same -woman, with the same lace scarf arranged in the identical way and with -the same expression, whose hardness was not masked by its smile. And was -this woman not the Comtesse Hermine d'Andeville, the mother of Élisabeth -and Bernard? - -The print bore the name of a Berlin photographer. On turning it over, -Paul saw something that increased his stupefaction. There were a few -words of writing: - - "_To Stéphane d'Andeville. 1902._" - -Stéphane was the Comte d'Andeville's Christian name! - -The photograph, therefore, had been sent from Berlin to the father of -Élisabeth and Bernard in 1902, that is to say, four years after the -Comtesse Hermine's death, so that Paul was faced with one of two -solutions: either the photograph, taken before the Comtesse Hermine's -death, was inscribed with the date of the year in which the count had -received it; or else the Comtesse Hermine was still alive. - -And, in spite of himself, Paul thought of Major Hermann, whose memory -was suggested to his troubled mind by this portrait, as it had been by -the picture in the locked room. Hermann! Hermine! And here was Hermine's -image discovered by him on the corpse of a German spy, by the banks of -the Yser, where the chief spy, who was certainly Major Hermann, must -even now be prowling. - -"Paul! Paul!" - -It was his brother-in-law calling him. Paul rose quickly, hid the -photograph, being fully resolved not to speak of it to Bernard, and -climbed the ladder. - -"Well, Bernard, what is it?" - -"A little troop of Boches. . . . I thought at first that they were a -patrol, relieving the sentries, and that they would keep on the other -side. But they've unmoored a couple of boats and are pulling across the -canal." - -"Yes, I can hear them." - -"Shall we fire at them?" Bernard suggested. - -"No, it would mean giving the alarm. It's better to watch them. Besides, -that's what we're here for." - -But at this moment there was a faint whistle from the tow-path. A -similar whistle answered from the boat. Two other signals were exchanged -at regular intervals. - -A church clock struck midnight. - -"It's an appointment," Paul conjectured. "This is becoming interesting. -Follow me. I noticed a place below where I think we shall be safe -against any surprise." - -It was a back-cellar separated from the first by a brick wall containing -a breach through which they easily made their way. They rapidly filled -up the breach with bricks that had fallen from the ceiling and the -walls. - -They had hardly finished when a sound of steps was heard overhead and -some words in German reached their ears. The troop of soldiers seemed to -be fairly numerous. Bernard fixed the barrel of his rifle in one of the -loop-holes in their barricade. - -"What are you doing?" asked Paul. - -"Making ready for them if they come. We can sustain a regular siege -here." - -"Don't be a fool, Bernard. Listen. Perhaps we shall be able to catch a -few words." - -"You may, perhaps. I don't know a syllable of German. . . ." - -A dazzling light suddenly filled the cellar. A soldier came down the -ladder and hung a large electric lamp to a hook in the wall. He was -joined by a dozen men; and the two brothers-in-law at once perceived -that they had come to remove the dead. - -It did not take long. In a quarter of an hour's time, there was nothing -left in the cellar but one body, that of Rosenthal, the spy. - -And an imperious voice above commanded: - -"Stay there, you others, and wait for us. And you, Karl, go down first." - -Some one appeared on the top rungs of the ladder. Paul and Bernard were -astounded at seeing a pair of red trousers, followed by a blue tunic and -the full uniform of a French private. The man jumped to the ground and -cried: - -"I'm here, _Excellenz_. You can come now." - -And they saw Laschen, the Belgian, or rather the self-styled Belgian who -had given his name as Laschen and who belonged to Paul's section. They -now knew where the three shots that had been fired at them came from. -The traitor was there. Under the light they clearly distinguished his -face, the face of a man of forty, with fat, heavy features and -red-rimmed eyes. He seized the uprights of the ladder so as to hold it -steady. An officer climbed down cautiously, wrapped in a wide gray cloak -with upturned collar. - -They recognized Major Hermann. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -MAJOR HERMANN - - -Resisting the surge of hatred that might have driven him to perform an -immediate act of vengeance, Paul at once laid his hand on Bernard's arm -to compel him to prudence. But he himself was filled with rage at the -sight of that demon. The man who represented in his eyes every one of -the crimes committed against his father and his wife, that man was -there, in front of his revolver, and Paul must not budge! Nay more, -circumstances had taken such a shape that, to a certainty, the man would -go away in a few minutes, to commit other crimes, and there was no -possibility of calling him to account. - -"Good, Karl," said the major, in German, addressing the so-called -Belgian. "Good. You have been punctual. Well, what news is there?" - -"First of all, _Excellenz_," replied Karl, who seemed to treat the major -with that deference mingled with familiarity which men show to a -superior who is also their accomplice, "by your leave." - -He took off his blue tunic and put on that of one of the dead Germans. -Then, giving the military salute: - -"That's better. You see, I'm a good German, _Excellenz_. I don't stick -at any job. But this uniform chokes me. - -"Well, _Excellenz_, it's too dangerous a trade, plied in this way. A -peasant's smock is all very well; but a soldier's tunic won't do. Those -beggars know no fear; I am obliged to follow them; and I run the risk of -being killed by a German bullet." - -"What about the two brothers-in-law?" - -"I fired at them three times from behind and three times I missed them. -Couldn't be helped: they've got the devil's luck; and I should only end -by getting caught. So, as you say, I'm deserting; and I sent the -youngster who runs between me and Rosenthal to make an appointment with -you." - -"Rosenthal sent your note on to me at headquarters." - -"But there was also a photograph, the one you know of, and a bundle of -letters from your agents in France. I didn't want to have those proofs -found on me if I was discovered." - -"Rosenthal was to have brought them to me himself. Unfortunately, he -made a blunder." - -"What was that, _Excellenz_?" - -"Getting killed by a shell." - -"Nonsense!" - -"There's his body at your feet." - -Karl merely shrugged his shoulders and said: - -"The fool!" - -"Yes, he never knew how to look after himself," added the major, -completing the funeral oration. "Take his pocketbook from him, Karl. He -used to carry it in an inside pocket of his woolen waistcoat." - -The spy stooped and, presently, said: - -"It's not there, _Excellenz_." - -"Then he put it somewhere else. Look in the other pockets." - -Karl did so and said: - -"It's not there either." - -"What! This is beyond me! Rosenthal never parted with his pocketbook. He -used to keep it to sleep with; he would have kept it to die with." - -"Look for yourself, _Excellenz_." - -"But then . . . ?" - -"Some one must have been here recently and taken the pocketbook." - -"Who? Frenchmen?" - -The spy rose to his feet, was silent for a moment and then, going up to -the major, said in a deliberate voice: - -"Not Frenchmen, _Excellenz_, but a Frenchman." - -"What do you mean?" - -"_Excellenz_, Delroze started on a reconnaissance not long ago with his -brother-in-law, Bernard d'Andeville. I could not get to know in which -direction, but I know now. He came this way. He must have explored the -ruins of the lighthouse and, seeing some dead lying about, turned out -their pockets." - -"That's a bad business," growled the major. "Are you sure?" - -"Certain. He must have been here an hour ago at most. Perhaps," added -Karl, with a laugh, "perhaps he's here still, hiding in some hole. -. . ." - -Both of them cast a look around them, but mechanically; and the movement -denoted no serious fear on their part. Then the major continued, -pensively: - -"After all, that bundle of letters received by our agents, letters -without names or addresses to them, doesn't matter so much. But the -photograph is more important." - -"I should think so, _Excellenz_! Why, here's a photograph taken in 1902; -and we've been looking for it, therefore, for the last twelve years. I -manage, after untold efforts, to discover it among the papers which -Comte Stéphane d'Andeville left behind at the outbreak of war. And this -photograph, which you wanted to take back from the Comte d'Andeville, to -whom you had been careless enough to give it, is now in the hands of -Paul Delroze, M. d'Andeville's son-in-law, Élisabeth d'Andeville's -husband and your mortal enemy!" - -"Well, I know all that," cried the major, who was obviously annoyed. -"You needn't rub it in!" - -"_Excellenz_, one must always look facts in the face. What has been your -constant object with regard to Paul Delroze? To conceal from him the -truth as to your identity and therefore to turn his attention, his -enquiries, his hatred, towards Major Hermann. That's so, is it not? You -went to the length of multiplying the number of daggers engraved with -the letters H, E, R, M and even of signing 'Major Hermann' on the panel -where the famous portrait hung. In fact, you took every precaution, so -that, when you think fit to kill off Major Hermann, Paul Delroze will -believe his enemy to be dead and will cease to think of you. And now -what happens? Why, in that photograph he possesses the most certain -proof of the connection between Major Hermann and the famous portrait -which he saw on the evening of his marriage, that is to say, between the -present and the past." - -"True; but this photograph, found on the body of some dead soldier, -would have no importance in his eyes unless he knew where it came from, -for instance, if he could see his father-in-law." - -"His father-in-law is fighting with the British army within eight miles -of Paul Delroze." - -"Do they know it?" - -"No, but an accident may bring them together. Moreover, Bernard and his -father correspond; and Bernard must have told his father what happened -at the Château d'Ornequin, at least in so far as Paul Delroze was able -to piece the incidents together." - -"Well, what does that matter, so long as they know nothing of the other -events? And that's the main thing. They could discover all our secrets -through Élisabeth and find out who I am. But they won't look for her, -because they believe her to be dead." - -"Are you sure of that, _Excellenz_?" - -"What's that?" - -The two accomplices were standing close together, looking into each -other's eyes, the major uneasy and irritated, the spy cunning. - -"Speak," said the major. "What do you want to say?" - -"Just this, _Excellenz_, that just now I was able to put my hand on -Delroze's kit-bag. Not for long: two seconds, that's all; but long -enough to see two things. . . ." - -"Hurry up, can't you?" - -"First, the loose leaves of that manuscript of which you took care to -burn the more important papers, but of which, unfortunately, you mislaid -a considerable part." - -"His wife's diary?" - -"Yes." - -The major burst into an oath: - -"May I be damned for everlasting! One should burn everything in those -cases. Oh, if I hadn't indulged that foolish curiosity! . . . And next?" - -"Oh, hardly anything, _Excellenz_! A bit of a shell, yes, a little bit -of a shell; but I must say that it looked to me very like the splinter -which you ordered me to drive into the wall of the lodge, after sticking -some of Élisabeth's hair to it. What do you think of that, _Excellenz_?" - -The major stamped his foot with anger and let fly a new string of oaths -and anathemas at the head of Paul Delroze. - -"What do you think of that?" repeated the spy. - -"You are right," cried the major. "His wife's diary will have given that -cursed Frenchman a glimpse of the truth; and that piece of shell in his -possession is a proof to him that his wife is perhaps still alive, which -is the one thing I wanted to avoid. We shall never get rid of him now!" -His rage seemed to increase. "Oh, Karl, he makes me sick and tired! He -and his street-boy of a brother-in-law, what a pair of swankers! By God, -I did think that you had rid me of them the night when we came back to -their room at the château and found their names written on the wall! And -you can understand that they won't let things rest, now that they know -the girl isn't dead! They will look for her. They will find her. And, as -she knows all our secrets . . . ! You ought to have made away with her, -Karl!" - -"And the prince?" chuckled the spy. - -"Conrad is an ass! The whole of that family will bring us ill-luck and -first of all to him who was fool enough to fall in love with that hussy. -You ought to have made away with her at once, Karl--I told you--and not -to have waited for the prince's return." - -Standing full in the light as he was, Major Hermann displayed the most -appalling highwayman's face imaginable, appalling not because of the -deformity of the features or any particular ugliness, but because of -the most repulsive and savage expression, in which Paul once more -recognized, carried to the very limits of paroxysm, the expression of -the Comtesse Hermine, as revealed in her picture and the photograph. At -the thought of the crime which had failed, Major Hermann seemed to -suffer a thousand deaths, as though the murder had been a condition of -his own life. He ground his teeth. He rolled his bloodshot eyes. - -In a distraught voice, clutching the shoulder of his accomplice with his -fingers, he shouted, this time in French: - -"Karl, it is beginning to look as though we couldn't touch them, as -though some miracle protected them against us. You've missed them three -times lately. At the Château d'Ornequin you killed two others in their -stead. I also missed him the other day at the little gate in the park. -And it was in the same park, near the same chapel--you remember--sixteen -years ago, when he was only a child, that you drove your knife into him. -. . . Well, you started your blundering on that day." - -The spy gave an insolent, cynical laugh: - -"What did you expect, _Excellenz_? I was on the threshold of my career -and I had not your experience. Here were a father and a little boy whom -we had never set eyes on ten minutes before and who had done nothing to -us except annoy the Kaiser. My hand shook, I confess. You, on the other -hand: ah, you made neat work of the father, you did! One little touch -of your little hand and the trick was done!" - -This time it was Paul who, slowly and carefully, slipped the barrel of -his revolver into one of the breaches. He could no longer doubt, after -Karl's revelations, that the major had killed his father. It was that -creature whom he had seen, dagger in hand, on that tragic evening, that -creature and none other! And the creature's accomplice of to-day was the -accomplice of the earlier occasion, the satellite who had tried to kill -Paul while his father was dying. - -Bernard, seeing what Paul did, whispered in his ear: - -"So you have made up your mind? We're to shoot him down?" - -"Wait till I give the signal," answered Paul. "But don't you fire at -him, aim at the spy." - -In spite of everything, he was thinking of the inexplicable mystery of -the bonds connecting Major Hermann with Bernard d'Andeville and his -sister Élisabeth and he could not allow Bernard to be the one to carry -out the act of justice. He himself hesitated, as one hesitates before -performing an action of which one does not realize the full scope. Who -was that scoundrel? What identity was Paul to ascribe to him? To-day, -Major Hermann and chief of the German secret service; yesterday, Prince -Conrad's boon companion, all-powerful at the Château d'Ornequin, -disguising himself as a peasant-woman and prowling through Corvigny; -long before that, an assassin, the Emperor's accomplice . . . and the -lady of Ornequin: which of all these personalities, which were but -different aspects of one and the same being, was the real one? - -Paul looked at the major in bewilderment, as he had looked at the -photograph and, in the locked room, at the portrait of Hermine -d'Andeville. Hermann, Hermine! In his mind the two names became merged -into one. And he noticed the daintiness of the hands, white and small as -a woman's hands. The tapering fingers were decked with rings set with -precious stones. The booted feet, too, were delicately formed. The -colorless face showed not a trace of hair. But all this effeminate -appearance was belied by the grating sound of a hoarse voice, by -heaviness of gait and movement and by a sort of barbarous strength. - -The major put his hands before his face and reflected for a few minutes. -Karl watched him with a certain air of pity and seemed to be asking -himself whether his master was not beginning to feel some kind of -remorse at the thought of the crimes which he had committed. But the -major threw off his torpor and, in a hardly audible voice, quivering -with nothing but hatred, said: - -"On their heads be it, Karl! On their heads be it for trying to get in -our path! I put away the father and I did well. One day it will be the -son's turn. And now . . . now we have the girl to see to." - -"Shall I take charge of that, _Excellenz_?" - -"No, I have a use for you here and I must stay here myself. Things are -going very badly. But I shall go down there early in January. I shall be -at Èbrecourt on the morning of the tenth of January. The business must -be finished forty-eight hours after. And it shall be finished, that I -swear to you." - -He was again silent while the spy laughed loudly. Paul had stooped, so -as to bring his eyes to the level of his revolver. It would be criminal -to hesitate now. To kill the major no longer meant revenging himself and -slaying his father's murderer: it meant preventing a further crime and -saving Élisabeth. He had to act, whatever the consequences of his act -might be. He made up his mind. - -"Are you ready?" he whispered to Bernard. - -"Yes. I am waiting for you to give the signal." - -He took aim coldly, waiting for the propitious moment, and was about to -pull the trigger, when Karl said, in German: "I say, _Excellenz_, do you -know what's being prepared for the ferryman's house?" - -"What?" - -"An attack, just that. A hundred volunteers from the African companies -are on their way through the marshes now. The assault will be delivered -at dawn. You have only just time to let them know at headquarters and to -find out what precautions they intend to take." - -The major simply said: - -"They are taken." - -"What's that you say, _Excellenz_?" - -"I say, that they are taken. I had word from another quarter; and, as -they attach great value to the ferryman's house, I telephoned to the -officer in command of the post that we would send him three hundred men -at five o'clock in the morning. The African volunteers will be caught in -a trap. Not one of them will come back alive." - -The major gave a little laugh of satisfaction and turned up the collar -of his cloak as he added: - -"Besides, to make doubly sure, I shall go and spend the night there -. . . especially as I am beginning to wonder whether the officer -commanding the post did not chance to send some men here with -instructions to take the papers off Rosenthal, whom he knew to be dead." - -"But . . ." - -"That'll do. Have Rosenthal seen to and let's be off." - -"Am I to go with you, _Excellenz_?" - -"No, there's no need. One of the boats will take me up the canal. The -house is not forty minutes from here." - -In answer to the spy's call, three soldiers came down and hoisted the -dead man's body to the trap-door overhead. Karl and the major both -remained where they were, at the foot of the ladder, while Karl turned -the light of the lantern, which he had taken down from the wall, towards -the trap-door. - -Bernard whispered: - -"Shall we fire now?" - -"No," said Paul. - -"But . . ." - -"I forbid you." - -When the operation was over, the major said to Karl: - -"Give me a good light and see that the ladder doesn't slip." - -He went up and disappeared from sight. - -"All right," he said. "Hurry." - -The spy climbed the ladder in his turn. Their footsteps were heard -overhead. The steps moved in the direction of the canal and there was -not a sound. - -"What on earth came over you?" cried Bernard. "We shall never have -another chance like that. The two ruffians would have dropped at the -first shot." - -"And we after them," said Paul. "There were twelve of them up there. We -should have been doomed." - -"But Élisabeth would have been saved, Paul! Upon my word, I don't -understand you. Fancy having two monsters like that at our mercy and -letting them go! The man who murdered your father and who is torturing -Élisabeth was there; and you think of ourselves!" - -"Bernard," said Paul Delroze, "you didn't understand what they said at -the end, in German. The enemy has been warned of the attack and of our -plans against the ferryman's house. In a little while, the hundred -volunteers who are stealing up through the marsh will be the victims of -an ambush laid for them. We've got to save them first. We have no right -to sacrifice our lives before performing that duty. And I am sure that -you agree with me." - -"Yes," said Bernard. "But all the same it was a grand opportunity." - -"We shall have another and perhaps soon," said Paul, thinking of the -ferryman's house to which Major Hermann was now on his way. - -"Well, what do you propose to do?" - -"I shall join the detachment of volunteers. If the lieutenant in command -is of my opinion, he will not wait until seven to deliver the assault, -but attack at once. And I shall be of the party." - -"And I?" - -"Go back to the colonel. Explain the position to him and tell him that -the ferryman's house will be captured this morning and that we shall -hold it until reinforcements come up." - -They parted with no more words and Paul plunged resolutely into the -marshes. - -The task which he was undertaking did not meet with the obstacles he -expected. After forty minutes of rather difficult progress, he heard the -murmur of voices, gave the password and told the men to take him to the -lieutenant. - -Paul's explanations at once convinced that officer: the job must either -be abandoned or hurried on at once. - -The column went ahead. At three o'clock, guided by a peasant who knew a -path where the men sank no deeper than their knees, they succeeded in -reaching the neighborhood of the house unperceived. Then, when the alarm -had been given by a sentry, the attack began. - -This attack, one of the finest feats of arms in the war, is too well -known to need a detailed description here. It was extremely violent. The -enemy, who was on his guard, made an equally vigorous defense. There was -a tangle of barbed wire to be forced and many pitfalls to be overcome. A -furious hand-to-hand fight took place first outside and then inside the -house; and, by the time that the French had gained the victory after -killing or taking prisoner the eighty-three Germans who defended it, -they themselves had suffered losses which reduced their effective force -by half. - -Paul was the first to leap into the trenches, the line of which ran -beside the house on the left and was extended in a semicircle as far as -the Yser. He had an idea: before the attack succeeded and before it was -even certain that it would succeed, he wanted to cut off all retreat on -the part of the fugitives. - -Driven back at first, he made for the bank, followed by three -volunteers, stepped into the water, went up the canal and thus came to -the other side of the house, where, as he expected, he found a bridge -of boats. - -At that moment, he saw a figure disappearing in the darkness. - -"Stay here," he said to his men, "and let no one pass." - -He himself jumped out of the water, crossed the bridge and began to run. - -A searchlight was thrown on the canal bank and he again perceived the -figure, thirty yards in front of him. - -A minute later, he shouted: - -"Halt, or I fire!" - -And, as the man continued to run, he fired, but aimed so as not to hit -him. - -The fugitive stopped and fired his revolver four times, while Paul, -stooping down, flung himself between his legs and brought him to the -ground. - -The enemy, seeing that he was mastered, offered no resistance. Paul -rolled his cloak round him and took him by the throat. With the hand -that remained free, he threw the light of his pocket-lamp full on the -other's face. - -His instinct had not deceived him: the man he held by the throat was -Major Hermann. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE FERRYMAN'S HOUSE - - -Paul Delroze did not speak a word. Pushing his prisoner in front of him, -after tying the major's wrists behind his back, he returned to the -bridge of boats in the darkness illumined by brief flashes of light. - -The fighting continued. But a certain number of the enemy tried to run -away; and, when the volunteers who guarded the bridge received them with -a volley of fire, the Germans thought that they had been cut off; and -this diversion hastened their defeat. - -When Paul arrived, the combat was over. But the enemy was bound, sooner -or later, to deliver a counter-attack, supported by the reinforcements -that had been promised to the commandant; and the defense was prepared -forthwith. - -The ferryman's house, which had been strongly fortified by the Germans -and surrounded with trenches, consisted of a ground floor and an upper -story of three rooms, now knocked into one. At the back of this large -room, however, was a recess with a sloping roof, reached by three steps, -which at one time had done duty as a servant's attic. Paul, who was -entrusted with the arrangement of this upper floor, brought his prisoner -here. He laid him on the floor, bound him with a cord and fastened him -to a beam; and, while doing so, he was seized with such a paroxysm of -hatred that he took him by the throat as though to strangle him. - -He mastered himself, however. After all, there was no hurry. Before -killing the man or handing him over to the soldiers to be shot against -the wall, why deny himself the supreme satisfaction of having an -explanation with him? - -When the lieutenant entered, Paul said, so as to be heard by all and -especially by the major: - -"I recommend that scoundrel to your care, lieutenant. It's Major -Hermann, one of the chief spies in the German army. I have the proofs on -me. Remember that, in case anything happens to me. And, if we should -have to retreat. . . ." - -The lieutenant smiled: - -"There's no question of that. We shall not retreat, for the very good -reason that I would rather blow up the shanty first. And Major Hermann, -therefore, would be blown up with us. So make your mind easy." - -The two officers discussed the defensive measures to be adopted; and the -men quickly got to work. - -First of all, the bridge of boats was unmade, trenches dug along the -canal and the machine-guns turned to face the other way. Paul, on his -first floor, had the sandbags moved from the one side of the house to -the other and the less solid-looking portions of the wall shored up with -beams. - -At half-past five, under the rays of the German flashlights, several -shells fell round about. One of them struck the house. The big guns -began to sweep the towpath. - -A few minutes before daybreak, a detachment of cyclists arrived by this -path, with Bernard d'Andeville at their head. He explained that two -companies and a section of sappers in advance of a complete battalion -had started, but their progress was hampered by the enemy's shells and -they were obliged to skirt the marshes, under the cover of the dyke -supporting the towpath. This had slowed their march; and it would be an -hour before they could arrive. - -"An hour," said the lieutenant. "It will be stiff work. Still, we can do -it. So . . ." - -While he was giving new orders and placing the cyclists at their posts, -Paul came up; and he was just going to tell Bernard of Major Hermann's -capture, when his brother-in-law announced his news: - -"I say, Paul, dad's with me!" - -Paul gave a start: - -"Your father is here? Your father came with you?" - -"Just so; and in the most natural manner. You must know that he had been -looking for an opportunity for some time. By the way, he has been -promoted to interpreter lieutenant. . . ." - -Paul was no longer listening. He merely said to himself: - -"M. d'Andeville is here. . . . M. d'Andeville, the Comtesse Hermine's -husband. He must know, surely. Is she alive or dead? Or has he been the -dupe of a scheming woman to the end and does he still bear a loving -recollection of one who has vanished from his life? But no, that's -incredible, because there is that photograph, taken four years later and -sent to him: sent to him from Berlin! So he knows; and then . . . ?" - -Paul was greatly perplexed. The revelations made by Karl the spy had -suddenly revealed M. d'Andeville in a startling light. And now -circumstances were bringing M. d'Andeville into Paul's presence, at the -very time when Major Hermann had been captured. - -Paul turned towards the attic. The major was lying motionless, with his -face against the wall. - -"Your father has remained outside?" Paul asked his brother-in-law. - -"Yes, he took the bicycle of a man who was riding near us and who was -slightly wounded. Papa is seeing to him." - -"Go and fetch him; and, if the lieutenant doesn't object . . ." - -He was interrupted by the bursting of a shrapnel shell the bullets of -which riddled the sandbags heaped up in the front of them. The day was -breaking. They could see an enemy column looming out of the darkness a -mile away at most. - -"Ready there!" shouted the lieutenant from below. "Don't fire a shot -till I give the order. No one to show himself!" - -It was not until a quarter of an hour later and then only for four or -five minutes that Paul and M. d'Andeville were able to exchange a few -words. Their conversation, moreover, was so greatly hurried that Paul -had no time to decide what attitude he should take up in the presence of -Élisabeth's father. The tragedy of the past, the part which the Comtesse -Hermine's husband played in that tragedy: all this was mingled in his -mind with the defense of the block-house. And, in spite of their great -liking for each other, their greeting was somewhat absent and -distracted. - -Paul was ordering a small window to be stopped with a mattress. Bernard -was posted at the other end of the room. - -M. d'Andeville said to Paul: - -"You're sure of holding out, aren't you?" - -"Absolutely, as we've got to." - -"Yes, you've got to. I was with the division yesterday, with the English -general to whom I am attached as interpreter, when the attack was -decided on. The position seems to be of essential importance; and it is -indispensable that we should stick to it. I saw that this gave me an -opportunity of seeing you, Paul, as I knew that your regiment was to be -here. So I asked leave to accompany the contingent that had been ordered -to. . . ." - -There was a fresh interruption. A shell came through the roof and -shattered the wall on the side opposite to the canal. - -"Any one hurt?" - -"No, sir." - -M. d'Andeville went on: - -"The strangest part of it was finding Bernard at your colonel's last -night. You can imagine how glad I was to join the cyclists. It was my -only chance of seeing something of my boy and of shaking you by the -hand. . . . And then I had no news of my poor Élisabeth; and Bernard -told me. . . ." - -"Ah," said Paul quickly, "has Bernard told you all that happened at the -château?" - -"At least, as much as he knew; but there are a good many things that are -difficult to understand; and Bernard says that you have more precise -details. For instance, why did Élisabeth stay at the château?" - -"Because she wanted to," said Paul. "I was not told of her decision -until later, by letter." - -"I know. But why didn't you take her with you, Paul?" - -"When I left Ornequin, I made all the necessary arrangements for her to -go." - -"Good. But you ought not to have left Ornequin without her. All the -trouble is due to that." - -M. d'Andeville had been speaking with a certain acerbity, and, as Paul -did not answer, he asked again: - -"Why didn't you take Élisabeth away? Bernard said that there was -something very serious, that you spoke of exceptional circumstances. -Perhaps you won't mind explaining." - -Paul seemed to suspect a latent hostility in M. d'Andeville; and this -irritated him all the more on the part of a man whose conduct now -appeared to him so perplexing: - -"Do you think," he said, "that this is quite the moment?" - -"Yes, yes, yes. We may be separated any minute. . . ." - -Paul did not allow him to finish. He turned abruptly towards his -father-in-law and exclaimed: - -"You are right, sir! It's a horrible idea. It would be terrible if I -were not able to reply to your questions or you to mine. Élisabeth's -fate perhaps depends on the few words which we are about to speak. For -we must know the truth between us. A single word may bring it to light; -and there is no time to be lost. We must speak out now. . . . Whatever -happens." - -His excitement surprised M. d'Andeville, who asked: - -"Wouldn't it be as well to call Bernard over?" - -"No, no," said Paul, "on no account! It's a thing that he mustn't know -about, because it concerns. . . ." - -"Because it concerns whom?" asked M. d'Andeville, who was more and more -astonished. - -A man standing near them was hit by a bullet and fell. Paul rushed to -his assistance; but the man had been shot through the forehead and was -dead. Two more bullets entered through an opening which was wider than -it need be; and Paul ordered it to be partly closed up. - -M. d'Andeville, who had been helping him, pursued the conversation: - -"You were saying that Bernard must not hear because it concerns. . . ." - -"His mother," Paul replied. - -"His mother? What do you mean? His mother? It concerns my wife? I don't -understand. . . ." - -Through the loopholes in the wall they could see three enemy columns -advancing, above the flooded fields, moving forward on narrow causeways -which converged towards the canal opposite the ferryman's house. - -"We shall fire when they are two hundred yards from the canal," said the -lieutenant commanding the volunteers, who had come to inspect the -defenses. "If only their guns don't knock the shanty about too much!" - -"Where are our reinforcements?" asked Paul. - -"They'll be here in thirty or forty minutes. Meantime the seventy-fives -are doing good work." - -The shells were flying through space in both directions, some falling in -the midst of the German columns, others around the blockhouse. Paul ran -to every side, encouraging and directing the men. From time to time he -went to the attic and looked at Major Hermann, who lay perfectly still. -Then Paul returned to his post. - -He did not for a second cease to think of the duty incumbent on him as -an officer and a combatant, nor for a second of what he had to say to M. -d'Andeville. But these two mingled obsessions deprived him of all -lucidity of mind! and he did not know how to come to an explanation with -his father-in-law or how to unravel the tangled position. M. d'Andeville -asked his question several times. He did not reply. - -The lieutenant's voice was raised: - -"Attention! . . . Present! . . . Fire! . . ." - -The command was repeated four times over. The nearest enemy column, -decimated by the bullets, seemed to waver. But the others came up with -it; and it formed up again. - -Two German shells burst against the house. The roof was carried away -bodily, several feet of the frontage were demolished and three men -killed. - -After the storm, a calm. But Paul had so clear a sense of the danger -which threatened them all that he was unable to contain himself any -longer. Suddenly making up his mind, addressing M. d'Andeville without -further preamble, he said: - -"One word in particular. . . . I must know. . . . Are you quite sure -that the Comtesse d'Andeville is dead?" And without waiting for the -reply, he went on: "Yes, you think my question mad. It seems so to you -because you do not know. But I am not mad; and I ask you to answer my -question as you would do if I had the time to state the reasons that -justify me in asking it. Is the Comtesse Hermine dead?" - -M. d'Andeville, restraining his feelings and consenting to adopt the -hypothesis which Paul seemed to insist on, said: - -"Is there any reason that allows you to presume that my wife is still -alive?" - -"There are very serious reasons, I might say, incontestable reasons." - -M. d'Andeville shrugged his shoulders and said, in a firm voice: - -"My wife died in my arms. My lips touched her icy hands, felt that chill -of death which is so horrible in those we love. I myself dressed her, as -she had asked, in her wedding gown; and I was there when they nailed -down the coffin. Anything else?" - -Paul listened to him and thought to himself: - -"Has he spoken the truth? Yes, he has; and still how can I admit -. . . ?" - -Speaking more imperiously, M. d'Andeville repeated: - -"Anything else?" - -"Yes," said Paul, "one more question. There was a portrait in the -Comtesse d'Andeville's boudoir: was that her portrait?" - -"Certainly, her full length portrait." - -"Showing her with a black lace scarf over her shoulders?" - -"Yes, the kind of scarf she liked wearing." - -"And the scarf was fastened in front by a cameo set in a gold snake?" - -"Yes, it was an old cameo which belonged to my mother and which my wife -always wore." - -Paul yielded to thoughtless impulse. M. d'Andeville's assertions seemed -to him so many admissions; and, trembling with rage, he rapped out: - -"Monsieur, you have not forgotten, have you, that my father was -murdered? We often spoke of it, you and I. He was your friend. Well, the -woman who murdered him and whom I saw, the woman whose image has stamped -itself on my brain wore a black lace scarf round her shoulders and a -cameo set in a gold snake. And I found this woman's portrait in your -wife's room. Yes, I saw her portrait on my wedding evening. Do you -understand now? Do you understand or don't you?" - -It was a tragic moment between the two men. M. d'Andeville stood -trembling, with his hands clutching his rifle. - -"Why is he trembling?" Paul asked himself; and his suspicions increased -until they became an actual accusation. "Is it a feeling of protest or -his rage at being unmasked that makes him shake like that? And am I to -look upon him as his wife's accomplice? For, after all. . . ." - -He felt a fierce grip twisting his arm. M. d'Andeville, gray in the -face, blurted out: - -"How dare you? How dare you suggest that my wife murdered your father? -Why, you must be drunk! My wife, a saint in the sight of God and man! -And you dare! Oh, I don't know what keeps me from smashing your face -in!" - -Paul released himself roughly. The two men, shaking with a rage which -was increased by the din of the firing and the madness of their quarrel, -were on the verge of coming to blows while the shells and bullets -whistled all around them. - -Then a new strip of wall fell to pieces. Paul gave his orders and, at -the same time, thought of Major Hermann lying in his corner, to whom he -could have brought M. d'Andeville like a criminal who is confronted with -his accomplice. But why then did he not do so? - -Suddenly remembering the photograph of the Comtesse Hermine which he had -found on Rosenthal's body, he took it from his pocket and thrust it in -front of M. d'Andeville's eyes: - -"And this?" he shouted. "Do you know what this is? . . . There's a date -on it, 1902, and you pretend that the Comtesse Hermine is dead! . . . -Answer me, can't you? A photograph taken in Berlin and sent to you by -your wife four years after her death!" - -M. d'Andeville staggered. It was as though all his rage had evaporated -and was changing into infinite stupefaction. Paul brandished before his -face the overwhelming proof constituted by that bit of cardboard. And -he heard M. d'Andeville mutter: - -"Who can have stolen it from me? It was among my papers in Paris. . . . -Why didn't I tear it up? . . ." Then he added, in a very low whisper, -"Oh, Hermine, Hermine, my adored one!" - -Surely it was an avowal? But, if so, what was the meaning of an avowal -expressed in those terms and with that declaration of love for a woman -laden with crime and infamy? - -The lieutenant shouted from the ground floor: - -"Everybody into the trenches, except ten men. Delroze, keep the best -shots and order independent firing." - -The volunteers, headed by Bernard, hurried downstairs. The enemy was -approaching the canal, in spite of the losses which he had sustained. In -fact, on the right and left, knots of pioneers, constantly renewed, were -already striving with might and main to collect the boats stranded on -the bank. The lieutenant in command of the volunteers formed his men -into a first line of defense against the imminent assault, while the -sharpshooters in the house had orders to kill without ceasing under the -storm of shells. - -One by one, five of these marksmen fell. - -Paul and M. d'Andeville were here, there and everywhere, while -consulting one another as to the commands to be given and the things to -be done. There was not the least chance, in view of their great -inferiority in numbers, that they would be able to resist. But there -was some hope of their holding out until the arrival of the -reinforcements, which would ensure the possession of the blockhouse. - -The French artillery, finding it impossible to secure an effective aim -amid the confusion of the combatants, had ceased fire, whereas the -German guns were still bombarding the house; and shells were bursting at -every moment. - -Yet another man was wounded. He was carried into the attic and laid -beside Major Hermann, where he died almost immediately. - -Outside, there was fighting on and even in the water of the canal, in -the boats and around them. There were hand-to-hand contests amid general -uproar, yells of execration and pain, cries of terror and shouts of -victory. The confusion was so great that Paul and M. d'Andeville found -it difficult to take aim. - -Paul said to his father-in-law: - -"I'm afraid we may be done for before assistance arrives. I am bound -therefore to warn you that the lieutenant has made his arrangements to -blow up the house. As you are here by accident, without any -authorization that gives you the quality or duties of a combatant. -. . ." - -"I am here as a Frenchman," said M. d'Andeville, "and I shall stay on to -the end." - -"Then perhaps we shall have time to finish what we have to say, sir. -Listen to me. I will be as brief as I can. But if you should see the -least glimmer of light, please do not hesitate to interrupt me." - -He fully understood that there was a gulf of darkness between them and -that, whether guilty or not, whether his wife's accomplice or her dupe, -M. d'Andeville must know things which he, Paul, did not know and that -these things could only be made plain by an adequate recital of what had -happened. - -He therefore began to speak. He spoke calmly and deliberately, while M. -d'Andeville listened in silence. And they never ceased firing, quietly -loading, aiming and reloading, as though they were at practise. All -around and above them death pursued its implacable work. - -Paul had hardly described his arrival at Ornequin with Élisabeth, their -entrance into the locked room and his dismay at the sight of the -portrait, when an enormous shell exploded over their heads, spattering -them with shrapnel bullets. - -The four volunteers were hit. Paul also fell, wounded in the neck; and, -though he suffered no pain, he felt that all his ideas were gradually -fading into a mist without his being able to retain them. He made an -effort, however, and by some miracle of will was still able to exercise -a remnant of energy that allowed him to keep his hold on certain -reflections and impressions. Thus he saw his father-in-law kneeling -beside him and succeeded in saying to him: - -"Élisabeth's diary. . . . You'll find it in my kit-bag in camp . . . -with a few pages written by myself . . . which will explain. . . . But -first you must . . . Look, that German officer over there, bound up -. . . he's a spy. . . . Keep an eye on him. . . . Kill him. . . . If -not, on the tenth of January . . . but you will kill him, won't you?" - -Paul could speak no more. Besides, he saw that M. d'Andeville was not -kneeling down to listen to him or help him, but that, himself shot, with -his face bathed in blood, he was bending double and finally fell in a -huddled heap, uttering moans that grew fainter and fainter. - -A great calm now descended on the big room, while the rifles crackled -outside. The German guns were no longer firing. The enemy's -counter-attack must be meeting with success; and Paul, incapable of -moving, lay awaiting the terrible explosion foretold by the lieutenant. - -He pronounced Élisabeth's name time after time. He reflected that no -danger threatened her now, because Major Hermann was also about to die. -Besides, her brother Bernard would know how to defend her. But after a -while this sort of tranquillity disappeared, changed into uneasiness and -then into restless anxiety, giving way to a feeling of which every -second that passed increased the torture. He could not tell whether he -was haunted by a nightmare, by some morbid hallucination. It all -happened on the side of the attic to which he had dragged Major -Hermann. A soldier's dead body was lying between them. And it seemed, to -his horror, as if the major had cut his bonds and were rising to his -feet and looking around him. - -Paul exerted all his strength to open his eyes and keep them open. But -an ever thicker shadow veiled them; and through this shadow he -perceived, as one sees a confused sight in the darkness, the major -taking off his cloak, stooping over the body, removing its blue coat and -buttoning it on himself. Then he put the dead man's cap on his head, -fastened his scarf round his neck, took the soldier's rifle, bayonet and -cartridges and, thus transfigured, stepped down the three wooden stairs. - -It was a terrible vision. Paul would have been glad to doubt his eyes, -to believe in some phantom image born of his fever and delirium. But -everything confirmed the reality of what he saw; and it meant to him the -most infernal suffering. The major was making his escape! - -Paul was too weak to contemplate the position in all its bearings. Was -the major thinking of killing him and of killing M. d'Andeville? Did the -major know that they were there, both of them wounded, within reach of -his hand? Paul never asked himself these questions. One idea alone -obsessed his failing mind. Major Hermann was escaping. Thanks to his -uniform, he would mingle with the volunteers! By the aid of some -signal, he would get back to the Germans! And he would be free! And he -would resume his work of persecution, his deadly work, against -Élisabeth! - -Oh, if the explosion had only taken place! If the ferryman's house could -but be blown up and the major with it! . . . - -Paul still clung to this hope in his half-conscious condition. Meanwhile -his reason was wavering. His thoughts became more and more confused. And -he swiftly sank into that darkness in which one neither sees nor hears. -. . . - - * * * * * - -Three weeks later the general commanding in chief stepped from his motor -car in front of an old château in the Bourbonnais, now transformed into -a military hospital. The officer in charge was waiting for him at the -door. - -"Does Second Lieutenant Delroze know that I am coming to see him?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Take me to his room." - -Paul Delroze was sitting up. His neck was bandaged; but his features -were calm and showed no traces of fatigue. Much moved by the presence of -the great chief whose energy and coolness had saved France, he rose to -the salute. But the general gave him his hand and exclaimed, in a kind -and affectionate voice: - -"Sit down, Lieutenant Delroze. . . . I say lieutenant, for you were -promoted yesterday. No, no thanks. By Jove, we are still your debtors! -So you're up and about?" - -"Why, yes, sir. The wound wasn't much." - -"So much the better. I'm satisfied with all my officers; but, for all -that, we don't find fellows like you by the dozen. Your colonel has sent -in a special report about you which sets forth such an array of acts of -incomparable bravery that I have half a mind to break my own rule and to -make the report public." - -"No, please don't, sir." - -"You are right, Delroze. It is the first attribute of heroism that it -likes to remain anonymous; and it is France alone that must have all the -glory for the time being. So I shall be content for the present to -mention you once more in the orders of the day and to hand you the cross -for which you were already recommended." - -"I don't know how to thank you, sir." - -"In addition, my dear fellow, if there's the least thing you want, I -insist that you should give me this opportunity of doing it for you." - -Paul nodded his head and smiled. All this cordial kindness and -attentiveness were putting him at his ease. - -"But suppose I want too much, sir?" - -"Go ahead." - -"Very well, sir, I accept. And what I ask is this: first of all, a -fortnight's sick leave, counting from Saturday, the ninth of January, -the day on which I shall be leaving the hospital." - -"That's not a favor, that's a right." - -"I know, sir. But I must have the right to spend my leave where I -please." - -"Very well." - -"And more than that: I must have in my pocket a permit written in your -own hand, sir, which will give me every latitude to move about as I wish -in the French lines and to call for any assistance that can be of use to -me." - -The general looked at Paul for a moment, and said: - -"That's a serious request you're making, Delroze." - -"Yes, sir, I know it is. But the thing I want to undertake is serious -too." - -"All right, I agree. Anything more?" - -"Yes, sir, Sergeant Bernard d'Andeville, my brother-in-law, took part as -I did in the action at the ferryman's house. He was wounded like myself -and brought to the same hospital, from which he will probably be -discharged at the same time. I should like him to have the same leave -and to receive permission to accompany me." - -"I agree. Anything more?" - -"Bernard's father, Comte Stéphane d'Andeville, second lieutenant -interpreter attached to the British army, was also wounded on that day -by my side. I have learnt that his wound, though serious, is not likely -to prove fatal and that he has been moved to an English hospital, I -don't know which. I would ask you to send for him as soon as he is well -and to keep him on your staff until I come to you and report on the task -which I have taken in hand." - -"Very well. Is that all?" - -"Very nearly, sir. It only remains for me to thank you for your kindness -by asking you to give me a list of twenty French prisoners, now in -Germany, in whom you take a special interest. Those twenty prisoners -will be free in a fortnight from now at most." - -"Eh? What's that?" - -For all his coolness, the general seemed a little taken aback. He -echoed: - -"Free in a fortnight from now! Twenty prisoners!" - -"I give you my promise, sir." - -"Don't talk nonsense." - -"It shall be as I say." - -"Whatever the prisoners' rank? Whatever their social position?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"And by regular means, means that can be avowed?" - -"By means to which there can be no possible objection." - -The general looked at Paul again with the eye of a leader who is in the -habit of judging men and reckoning them at their true value. He knew -that the man before him was not a boaster, but a man of action and a -man of his word, who went straight ahead and kept his promises. He -replied: - -"Very well, Delroze, you shall have your list to-morrow." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -A MASTERPIECE OF KULTUR - - -On the morning of Sunday, the tenth of January, Lieutenant Delroze and -Sergeant d'Andeville stepped on to the platform at Corvigny, went to -call on the commandant of the town and then took a carriage in which -they drove to the Château d'Ornequin. - -"All the same," said Bernard, stretching out his legs in the fly, "I -never thought that things would turn out as they have done when I was -hit by a splinter of shrapnel between the Yser and the ferryman's house. -What a hot corner it was just then! Believe me or believe me not, Paul, -if our reinforcements hadn't come up, we should have been done for in -another five minutes. We were jolly lucky!" - -"We were indeed," said Paul. "I felt that next day, when I woke up in a -French ambulance!" - -"What I can't get over, though," Bernard continued, "is the way that -blackguard of a Major Hermann made off. So you took him prisoner? And -then you saw him unfasten his bonds and escape? The cheek of the rascal! -You may be sure he got away safe and sound!" - -Paul muttered: - -"I haven't a doubt of it; and I don't doubt either that he means to -carry out his threats against Élisabeth." - -"Bosh! We have forty-eight hours before us, as he gave his pal Karl the -tenth of January as the date of his arrival and he won't act until two -days later." - -"And suppose he acts to-day?" said Paul, in a husky voice. - -Notwithstanding his anguish, however, the drive did not seem long to -him. He was at last approaching--and this time really--the object from -which each day of the last four months had removed him to a greater -distance. Ornequin was on the frontier; and Èbrecourt was but a few -minutes from the frontier. He refused to think of the obstacles which -would intervene before he could reach Èbrecourt, discover his wife's -retreat and save her. He was alive. Élisabeth was alive. No obstacles -existed between him and her. - -The Château d'Ornequin, or rather what remained of it--for even the -ruins of the château had been subjected to a fresh bombardment in -November--was serving as a cantonment for territorial troops, whose -first line of trenches skirted the frontier. There was not much fighting -on this side, because, for tactical reasons, it was not to the enemy's -advantage to push too far forward. The defenses were of equal strength; -and a very active watch was kept on either side. - -These were the particulars which Paul obtained from the territorial -lieutenant with whom he lunched. - -"My dear fellow," concluded the officer, after Paul had told him the -object of his journey, "I am altogether at your service; but, if it's a -question of getting from Ornequin to Èbrecourt, you can make up your -mind that you won't do it." - -"I shall do it all right." - -"It'll have to be through the air then," said the officer, with a laugh. - -"No." - -"Or underground." - -"Perhaps." - -"There you're wrong. We wanted ourselves to do some sapping and mining. -It was no use. We're on a deposit of rock in which it's impossible to -dig." - -It was Paul's turn to smile: - -"My dear chap, if you'll just be kind enough to lend me for one hour -four strong men armed with picks and shovels, I shall be at Èbrecourt -to-night." - -"I say! Four men to dig a six-mile tunnel through the rock in an hour!" - -"That's ample. Also, you must promise absolute secrecy both as to the -means employed and the rather curious discoveries to which they are -bound to lead. I shall make a report to the general commanding in chief; -but no one else is to know." - -"Very well, I'll select my four fellows for you myself. Where am I to -bring them to you?" - -"On the terrace, near the donjon." - -This terrace commands the Liseron from a height of some hundred and -fifty feet and, in consequence of a loop in the river, is exactly -opposite Corvigny, whose steeple and the neighboring hills are seen in -the distance. Of the castle-keep nothing remains but its enormous base, -which is continued by the foundation-walls, mingled with natural rocks, -which support the terrace. A garden extends its clumps of laurels and -spindle-trees to the parapet. - -It was here that Paul went. Time after time he strode up and down the -esplanade, leaning over the river and inspecting the blocks that had -fallen from the keep under the mantle of ivy. - -"Now then," said the lieutenant, on arriving with his men. "Is this your -starting-point? I warn you we are standing with our backs to the -frontier." - -"Pooh!" replied Paul, in the same jesting tone. "All roads lead to -Berlin!" - -He pointed to a circle which he had marked out with stakes, and set the -men to work: - -"Go ahead, my lads." - -They began to throw up, within a circle of three yards in circumference, -a soil consisting of vegetable mold in which, in twenty minutes' time, -they had dug a hole five feet deep. Here they came upon a layer of -stones cemented together; and their work now became much more difficult, -for the cement was of incredible hardness and they were only to break it -up by inserting their picks into the cracks. Paul followed the -operations with anxious attention. - -After an hour, he told them to stop. He himself went down into the hole -and then went on digging, but slowly and as though examining the effect -of every blow that he struck. - -"That's it!" he said, drawing himself up. - -"What?" asked Bernard. - -"The ground on which we are standing is only a floor of the big -buildings that used to adjoin the old keep, buildings which were razed -to the ground centuries ago and on the top of which this garden was laid -out." - -"Well?" - -"Well, in clearing away the soil, I have broken through the ceiling of -one of the old rooms. Look." - -He took a stone, placed it right in the center of the narrower opening -which he himself had made and let it drop. The stone disappeared. A dull -sound followed almost immediately. - -"All that need now be done is for the men to widen the entrance. In the -meantime, we will go and fetch a ladder and lights: as much light as -possible." - -"We have pine torches," said the officer. - -"That will do capitally." - -Paul was right. When the ladder was let down and he had descended with -the lieutenant and Bernard, they saw a very large hall, whose vaults -were supported by massive pillars which divided it, like a church of -irregular design, into two main naves, with narrower and lower -side-aisles. - -But Paul at once called his companions' attention to the floor of those -two naves: - -"A concrete flooring, do you see? . . . And, look there, as I expected, -two rails running along one of the upper galleries! . . . And here are -two more rails in the other gallery! . . ." - -"But what does it all mean?" exclaimed Bernard and the lieutenant. - -"It means simply this," said Paul, "that we have before us what is -evidently the explanation of the great mystery surrounding the capture -of Corvigny and its two forts." - -"How?" - -"Corvigny and its two forts were demolished in a few minutes, weren't -they? Where did those gunshots come from, considering that Corvigny is -fifteen miles from the frontier and that not one of the enemy's guns had -crossed the frontier? They came from here, from this underground -fortress." - -"Impossible." - -"Here are the rails on which they moved the two gigantic pieces which -were responsible for the bombardment." - -"I say! You can't bombard from the bottom of a cavern! Where are the -embrasures?" - -"The rails will take us there. Show a good light, Bernard. Look, here's -a platform mounted on a pivot. It's a good size, eh? And here's the -other platform." - -"But the embrasures?" - -"In front of you, Bernard." - -"That's a wall." - -"It's the wall which, together with the rock of the hill, supports the -terrace above the Liseron, opposite Corvigny. And two circular breaches -were made in the wall and afterwards closed up again. You can see the -traces of the closing quite plainly." - -Bernard and the lieutenant could not get over their astonishment: - -"Why, it's an enormous work!" said the officer. - -"Absolutely colossal!" replied Paul. "But don't be too much surprised, -my dear fellow. It was begun sixteen or seventeen years ago, to my own -knowledge. Besides, as I told you, part of the work was already done, -because we are in the lower rooms of the old Ornequin buildings; and, -having found them, all they had to do was to arrange them according to -the object which they had in view. There is something much more -astounding, though!" - -"What is that?" - -"The tunnel which they had to build in order to bring their two pieces -here." - -"A tunnel?" - -"Well, of course! How do you expect they got here? Let's follow the -rails, in the other direction, and we'll soon come to the tunnel." - -As he anticipated, the two sets of rails joined a little way back and -they saw the yawning entrance to a tunnel about nine feet wide and the -same height. It dipped under ground, sloping very gently. The walls were -of brick. No damp oozed through the walls; and the ground itself was -perfectly dry. - -"Èbrecourt branch-line," said Paul, laughing. "Seven miles in the shade. -And that is how the stronghold of Corvigny was bagged. First, a few -thousand men passed through, who killed off the little Ornequin garrison -and the posts on the frontier and then went on to the town. At the same -time, the two huge guns were brought up, mounted and trained upon sites -located beforehand. When these had done their business, they were -removed and the holes stopped up. All this didn't take two hours." - -"But to achieve those two decisive hours the Kaiser worked for seventeen -years, bless him!" said Bernard. "Well, let's make a start." - -"Would you like my men to go with you?" suggested the lieutenant. - -"No, thank you. It's better that my brother-in-law and I should go by -ourselves. If we find, however, that the enemy has destroyed his tunnel, -we will come back and ask for help. But it will astonish me if he has. -Apart from the fact that he has taken every precaution lest the -existence of the tunnel should be discovered, he is likely to have kept -it intact in case he himself might want to use it again." - -And so, at three o'clock in the afternoon, the two brothers-in-law -started on their walk down the imperial tunnel, as Bernard called it. -They were well armed, supplied with provisions and ammunition and -resolved to pursue the adventure to the end. - -In a few minutes, that is to say, two hundred yards farther on, the -light of their pocket-lantern showed them the steps of a staircase on -their right. - -"First turning," remarked Paul. "I take it there must be at least three -of them." - -"Where does the staircase lead to?" - -"To the château, obviously. And, if you want to know to what part, I -say, to the room with the portrait. There's no doubt that this is the -way by which Major Hermann entered the château on the evening of the day -when we attacked it. He had his accomplice Karl with him. Seeing our -names written on the wall, they stabbed the two men sleeping in the -room, Private Gériflour and his comrade." - -Bernard d'Andeville stopped short: - -"Look here, Paul, you've been bewildering me all day. You're acting with -the most extraordinary insight, going straight to the right place at -which to dig, describing all that happened as if you had been there, -knowing everything and foreseeing everything. I never suspected you of -that particular gift. Have you been studying Sherlock Holmes?" - -"Not even Arsène Lupin," said Paul, moving on again. "But I've been ill -and I have thought things over. Certain passages in Élisabeth's diary, -in which she spoke of her perplexing discoveries, gave me the first -hint. I began by asking myself why the Germans had taken such pains to -create a desert all around the château. And in this way, putting two and -two together, drawing inference after inference, examining the past and -the present, remembering my meeting with the German Emperor and a -number of things which are all linked together, I ended by coming to the -conclusion that there was bound to be a secret communication between the -German and the French sides of the frontier, terminating at the exact -place from which it was possible to fire on Corvigny. It seemed to me -that, _a priori_, this place must be the terrace; and I became quite -sure of it when, just now, I saw on the terrace a dead tree, overgrown -with ivy, near which Élisabeth thought that she heard sounds coming from -underground. From that moment, I had nothing to do but get to work." - -"And your object is . . . ?" asked Bernard. - -"I have only one object: to deliver Élisabeth." - -"Your plan?" - -"I haven't one. Everything will depend on circumstances; but I am -convinced that I am on the right track." - -In fact all his surmises were proving to be correct. In ten minutes they -reached a space where another tunnel, also supplied with rails, branched -off to the right. - -"Second turning," said Paul. "Corvigny Road. It was down here that the -Germans marched to the town and took our troops by surprise before they -even had time to assemble; it was down here that the peasant-woman went -who accosted you in the evening. The outlet must be at some distance -from the town, perhaps in a farm belonging to the supposed -peasant-woman." - -"And the third turning?" said Bernard. - -"Here it is." - -"Another staircase?" - -"Yes; and I have no doubt that it leads to the chapel. We may safely -presume that, on the day when my father was murdered, the Emperor had -come to examine the works which he had ordered and which were being -executed under the supervision of the woman who accompanied him. The -chapel, which at that time was not inside the walls of the park, is -evidently one of the exits from the secret network of roads of which we -are following the main thoroughfare." - -Paul saw two more of these ramifications, which, judging from their -position and direction, must issue near the frontier, thus completing a -marvelous system of espionage and invasion. - -"It's wonderful," said Bernard. "It's admirable. If this isn't Kultur, I -should like to know what is. One can see that these people have the true -sense of war. The idea of digging for twenty years at a tunnel intended -for the possible bombardment of a tiny fortress would never have -occurred to a Frenchman. It needs a degree of civilization to which we -can't lay claim. Did you ever know such beggars!" - -His enthusiasm increased still further when he observed that the roof of -the tunnel was supplied with ventilating-shafts. But at last Paul -enjoined him to keep silent or to speak in a whisper: - -"You can imagine that, as they thought fit to preserve their lines of -communication, they must have done something to make them unserviceable -to the French. Èbrecourt is not far off. Perhaps there are -listening-posts, sentries posted at the right places. These people leave -nothing to chance." - -One thing that lent weight to Paul's remark was the presence, between -the rails, of those cast-iron slabs which covered the chambers of mines -laid in advance, so that they could be exploded by electricity. The -first was numbered five, the second four; and so on. Paul and Bernard -avoided them carefully; and this delayed their progress, for they no -longer dared switch on their lamps except at brief intervals. - -At about seven o'clock they heard or rather they seemed to hear confused -sounds of life and movement on the ground overhead. They felt deeply -moved. The soil above them was German soil; and the echo brought the -sounds of German life. - -"It's curious, you know, that the tunnel isn't better watched and that -we have been able to come so far without accident." - -"We'll give them a bad mark for that," said Bernard. "Kultur has made a -slip." - -Meanwhile a brisker draught blew along the walls. The outside air -entered in cool gusts; and they suddenly saw a distant light through the -darkness. It was stationary. Everything around it seemed still, as -though it were one of those fixed signals which are put up near a -railway. - -When they came closer, they perceived that it was the light of an -electric arc-lamp, that it was burning inside a shed standing at the -exit of the tunnel and its rays were cast upon great white cliffs and -upon little mounds of sand and pebbles. - -Paul whispered: - -"Those are quarries. By placing the entrance to their tunnel there, they -were able to continue their works in time of peace without attracting -attention. You may be sure that those so-called quarries were worked -very discreetly, in a compound to which the workmen were confined." - -"What Kultur!" Bernard repeated. - -He felt Paul's hand grip his arm. Something had passed in front of the -light, like a shadow rising and falling immediately after. - -With infinite caution they crawled up to the shed and raised themselves -until their eyes were on a level with the windows. Inside were half a -dozen soldiers, all lying down, or rather sprawling one across the -other, among empty bottles, dirty plates, greasy paper wrappers and -remnants of broken victuals. They were the men told off to guard the -tunnel; and they were dead-drunk. - -"More Kultur," said Bernard. - -"We're in luck," said Paul, "and I now understand why the watch is so -ill-kept: this is Sunday." - -There was a telegraph-apparatus on a table and a telephone on the wall; -and Paul saw under a glass case a switch-board with five brass handles, -which evidently corresponded by electric wires with the five -mine-chambers in the tunnel. - -When they passed on, Bernard and Paul continued to follow the rails -along the bed of a narrow channel, hollowed out of the rock, which led -them to an open space bright with many lights. A whole village lay -before them, consisting of barracks inhabited by soldiers whom they saw -moving to and fro. They went outside it. They then noticed the sound of -a motor-car and the blinding rays of two head-lights; and, after -climbing a fence and passing through a shrubbery, they saw a large villa -lit up from top to bottom. - -The car stopped in front of the doorstep, where some footmen were -standing, as well as a guard of soldiers. Two officers and a lady -wrapped in furs alighted. When the car turned, the lights revealed a -large garden, contained within very high walls. - -"It is just as I thought," said Paul. "This forms the counterpart of the -Château d'Ornequin. At either end there are strong walls which allow -work to be done unobserved by prying eyes. The terminus is in the open -air here, instead of underground, as it is down there; but at least the -quarries, the work-yards, the barracks, the garrison, the villa -belonging to the staff, the garden, the stables, all this military -organization is surrounded by walls and no doubt guarded on the outside -by sentries. That explains why one is able to move about so freely -inside." - -At that moment, a second motor-car set down three officers and then -joined the other in the coach-house. - -"There's a dinner-party on," said Bernard. - -They resolved to approach as near as they could, under cover of the -thick clumps of shrubs planted along the carriage-drive which surrounded -the house. - -They waited for some time; and then, from the sound of voices and -laughter that came from the ground-floor, at the back, they concluded -that this must be the scene of the banquet and that the guests were -sitting down to dinner. There were bursts of song, shouts of applause. -Outside, nothing stirred. The garden was deserted. - -"The place seems quiet," said Paul. "I shall ask you to give me a leg up -and to keep hidden yourself." - -"You want to climb to the ledge of one of the windows? What about the -shutters?" - -"I don't expect they're very close. You can see the light shining -through the middle." - -"Well, but why are you doing it? There is no reason to bother about this -house more than any other." - -"Yes, there is. You yourself told me that one of the wounded prisoners -said Prince Conrad had taken up his quarters in a villa outside -Èbrecourt. Now this one, standing in the middle of a sort of entrenched -camp and at the entrance to the tunnel, seems to me marked out. . . ." - -"Not to mention this really princely dinner-party," said Bernard, -laughing. "You're right. Up you go." - -They crossed the walk. With Bernard's assistance, Paul was easily able -to grip the ledge above the basement floor and to hoist himself to the -stone balcony. - -"That's it," he said. "Go back to where we were and whistle in case of -danger." - -After bestriding the balustrade, he carefully loosened one of the -shutters by passing first his fingers and then his hand through the -intervening space; and he succeeded in unfastening the bolt. The -curtains, being crossed inside, enabled him to move about unseen; but -they were open at the top, leaving an inverted triangle through which he -could see by climbing on to the balustrade. - -He did so and then bent forward and looked. - -The sight that met his eyes was such and gave him so horrible a blow -that his legs began to shake beneath him. . . . - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -PRINCE CONRAD MAKES MERRY - - -A table running parallel with the three windows of the room. An -incredible collection of bottles, decanters and glasses, hardly leaving -room for the dishes of cake and fruit. Ornamental side-dishes flanked by -bottles of champagne. A basket of flowers surrounded by liqueur-bottles. - -Twenty persons were seated at table, including half-a-dozen women in -low-necked dresses. The others were officers, covered with gold lace and -orders. - -In the middle, facing the window, sat Prince Conrad, presiding over the -banquet, with a lady on his right and another on his left. And it was -the sight of these three, brought together in the most improbable -defiance of the logic of things, that caused Paul to undergo a torture -which was renewed from moment to moment. - -That one of the two women should be there, on the prince's right, -sitting stiff-backed in her plum-colored stuff gown, with a black-lace -scarf half-hiding her short hair, was easy to understand. But the other -woman, to whom Prince Conrad kept turning with a clumsy affectation of -gallantry, that woman whom Paul contemplated with horror-struck eyes and -whom he would have liked to strangle where she sat, what was she doing -there? What was Élisabeth doing in the midst of those tipsy officers and -dubious German women, beside Prince Conrad and beside the monstrous -creature who was pursuing her with her hatred? - -The Comtesse Hermine d'Andeville! Élisabeth d'Andeville! The mother and -the daughter! There was no plausible argument that would allow Paul to -apply any other description to the prince's two companions. And -something happened to give this description its full value of hideous -reality when, a moment later, Prince Conrad rose to his feet, with a -glass of champagne in his hand, and shouted: - -"_Hoch! Hoch! Hoch!_ Here's to the health of our very wideawake friend!" - -"_Hoch! Hoch! Hoch!_" shouted the band of guests. "The Comtesse -Hermine!" - -She took up a glass, emptied it at a draught and began to make a speech -which Paul could not hear, while the others did their best to listen -with a fervent attention which was all the more meritorious in view of -their copious libations. - -And Élisabeth also sat and listened. She was wearing a gray gown which -Paul knew well, quite a simple frock, cut very high in the neck and with -sleeves that came down to her wrists. But from her throat a wonderful -necklace, consisting of four rows of large pearls, hung over her bodice; -and this necklace Paul did not know. - -"The wretch! The wretch!" he spluttered. - -She was smiling. Yes, he saw on the younger woman's lips a smile -provoked by something that Prince Conrad said as he bent over her. And -the prince gave such a boisterous laugh that the Comtesse Hermine, who -was still speaking, called him to order by tapping him on the hand with -her fan. - -The whole scene was a horrible one for Paul; and he suffered such -scorching anguish that his one idea was to get away, to see no more, to -abandon the struggle and to drive this hateful wife of his out of his -life and out of his memory. - -"She is a true daughter of the Comtesse Hermine," he thought, in -despair. - -He was on the point of going, when a little incident held him back. -Élisabeth raised to her eyes a handkerchief which she held crumpled in -the hollow of her hand and furtively wiped away a tear that was ready to -flow. At the same time he perceived that she was terribly pale, not with -a factitious pallor, which until then he had attributed to the crudeness -of the light, but with a real and deathly pallor. It was as though all -the blood had fled from her poor face. And, after all, what a melancholy -smile was that which had twisted her lips in response to the prince's -jest! - -"But then what is she doing here?" Paul asked himself. "Am I not -entitled to regard her as guilty and to suppose that her tears are due -to remorse? She has become cowardly through fear, threats and the wish -to live; and now she is crying." - -He continued to insult her in his thoughts; but gradually he felt a -great pity steal over him for the woman who had not had the strength to -endure her intolerable trials. - -Meanwhile, the Comtesse Hermine made an end of her speech. She drank -again, swallowing bumper after bumper and each time flinging her glass -behind her. The officers and their women followed her example. -Enthusiastic _Hochs_ were raised from every side; and, in a drunken fit -of patriotism, the prince got on his feet and struck up "_Deutschland -über Alles_," the others joining in the chorus with a sort of frenzy. - -Élisabeth had put her elbows on the table and her hands before her face, -as though trying to isolate herself from her surroundings. But the -prince, still standing and bawling, took her two arms and brutally -forced them apart: - -"None of your monkey-tricks, pretty one!" - -She gave a movement of repulsion which threw him beside himself. - -"What's all this? Sulking? And blubbering? A nice thing! And, bless my -soul, what do I see? Madame's glass is full!" - -He took the glass and, with a shaky hand, put it to Élisabeth's lips: - -"Drink my health, child! The health of your lord and master! What's -this? You refuse? . . . Ah, I see, you don't like champagne! Quite -right! Down with champagne! What you want is hock, good Rhine wine, eh, -baby? You're thinking of one of your country's songs: 'We held it once, -your German Rhine! It babbled in our brimming glass!' Rhine wine, -there!" - -With one movement, the officers rose and started shouting: - - _Die Wacht am Rhein_ - - "They shall not have our German Rhine, - Tho' like a flock of hungry crows - They shriek their lust . . ." - -"No, they shan't have it," rejoined the prince, angrily, "but you shall -drink it, little one!" - -Another glass had been filled. Once more he tried to force Élisabeth to -lift it to her lips; and, when she pushed it away, he began to whisper -in her ear, while the wine dribbled over her dress. - -Everybody was silent, waiting to see what would happen. Élisabeth turned -paler than ever, but did not move. The prince, leaning over her, showed -the face of a brute who alternately threatens, pleads, commands and -insults. It was a heart-rending sight. Paul would have given his life to -see Élisabeth yield to a fit of disgust and stab her insulter. Instead -of that, she threw back her head, closed her eyes and half-swooning, -accepted the chalice and swallowed a few mouthfuls. - -The prince gave a shout of triumph as he waved the glass on high; then -he put his lips, avidly, to the place at which she had drunk and emptied -it at a draught. - -"_Hoch! Hoch!_" he roared. "Up, comrades! Every one on his chair, with -one foot on the table! Up, conquerors of the world! Sing the strength of -Germany! Sing German gallantry! - - "'The Rhine, the free, the German Rhine - They shall not have while gallant boys - Still tell of love to slender maids. . . .' - -"Élisabeth, I have drunk Rhine wine from your glass. Élisabeth, I know -what you are thinking. Her thoughts are of love, my comrades! I am the -master! Oh, Parisienne! . . . You dear little Parisienne! . . . It's -Paris we want! . . . Oh, Paris, Paris! . . ." - -His foot slipped. The glass fell from his hand and smashed against the -neck of a bottle. He dropped on his knees on the table, amid a crash of -broken plates and glasses, seized a flask of liqueur and rolled to the -floor, stammering: - -"We want Paris. . . . Paris and Calais. . . . Papa said so. . . . The -Arc de Triomphe! . . . The Café Anglais! . . . A _cabinet particulier_ -at the Café Anglais! . . ." - -The uproar suddenly stopped. The Comtesse Hermine's imperious voice was -raised in command: - -"Go away, all of you! Go home! And be quick about it, gentlemen, if you -please." - -The officers and the ladies soon made themselves scarce. Outside, on the -other side of the house, there was a great deal of whistling. The cars -at once drove up from the garage. A general departure took place. - -Meanwhile the Countess had beckoned to the servants and, pointing to -Prince Conrad, said: - -"Carry him to his room." - -The prince was removed at once. Then the Comtesse Hermine went up to -Élisabeth. - -Not five minutes had elapsed since the prince rolled under the table; -and, after the din of the banquet, a great silence reigned in the -disorderly room where the two women were now by themselves. Élisabeth -had once more hidden her head in her hands and was weeping violently -with sobs that shook her shoulders. The Comtesse Hermine sat down beside -her and gently touched her on the arm. - -The two women looked at each other without a word. It was a strange -glance that they exchanged, a glance laden with mutual hatred. Paul did -not take his eyes from them. As he watched the two of them, he could not -doubt that they had met before and that the words which they were about -to speak were but the sequel and conclusion of some earlier discussion. -But what discussion? And what did Élisabeth know of the Comtesse -Hermine? Did she accept that woman, for whom she felt such loathing, as -her mother? - -Never were two human beings distinguished by a greater difference in -physical appearance and above all by expressions of face denoting more -opposite natures. And yet how powerful was the series of proofs that -linked them together! These were no longer proofs, but rather the -factors of so actual a reality that Paul did not even dream of -discussing them. Besides, M. d'Andeville's confusion when confronted -with the countess' photograph, a photograph taken in Berlin some years -after her pretended death, showed that M. d'Andeville was an accessory -to that pretended death and perhaps an accessory to many other things. - -And Paul came back to the question provoked by the agonizing encounter -between the mother and daughter: what did Élisabeth know of it all? What -insight had she been able to obtain into the whole monstrous -conglomeration of shame, infamy, treachery and crime? Was she accusing -her mother? And, feeling herself crushed under the weight of the crimes, -did she hold her responsible for her own lack of courage? - -"Yes, of course she does," thought Paul. "But why so much hatred? There -is a hatred between them which only death can quench. And the longing to -kill is perhaps even more violent in the eyes of Élisabeth than in -those of the woman who has come to kill her." - -Paul felt this impression so keenly that he really expected one or the -other to take some immediate action; and he began to cast about for a -means of saving Élisabeth. But an utterly unforeseen thing happened. The -Comtesse Hermine took from her pocket one of those large road-maps which -motorists use, placed her finger at one spot, followed the red line of a -road to another spot and, stopping, spoke a few words that seemed to -drive Élisabeth mad with delight. - -She seized the countess by the arm and began to talk to her feverishly, -in words interrupted by alternate laughing and sobbing, while the -countess nodded her head and seemed to be saying: - -"That's all right. . . . We are agreed. . . . Everything shall be as you -wish. . . ." - -Paul thought that Élisabeth was actually going to kiss her enemy's hand, -for she seemed overcome with joy and gratitude; and he was anxiously -wondering into what new trap the poor thing had fallen, when the -countess rose, walked to a door and opened it. - -She beckoned to some one outside and then came back again. - -A man entered, dressed in uniform. And Paul now understood. The man whom -the Comtesse Hermine was admitting was Karl the spy, her confederate, -the agent of her designs, the man whom she was entrusting with the task -of killing Élisabeth, whose last hour had struck. - -Karl bowed. The Comtesse Hermine introduced the man to Élisabeth and -then, pointing to the road and the two places on the map, explained what -was expected of him. He took out his watch and made a gesture as though -to say: - -"It shall be done at such-and-such a time." - -Thereupon, at the countess' suggestion, Élisabeth left the room. - -Although Paul had not caught a single word of what was said, this brief -scene was, for him, pregnant with the plainest and most terrifying -significance. The countess, using her absolute power and taking -advantage of the fact that Prince Conrad was asleep, was proposing a -plan of escape to Élisabeth, doubtless a flight by motor-car, towards a -spot in the neighboring district thought out in advance. Élisabeth was -accepting this unhoped-for deliverance. And the flight would take place -under the management and protection of Karl! - -The trap was so well-laid and Élisabeth, driven mad with suffering, was -rushing into it so confidently that the two accomplices, on being left -alone, looked at each other and laughed. The trick was really too easy; -and there was no merit in succeeding under such conditions. - -There next took place between them, even before any explanation was -entered into, a short pantomime: two movements, no more; but they were -marked with diabolical cynicism. With his eyes fixed on the countess, -Karl the spy opened his jacket and drew a dagger half-way out of its -sheath. The countess made a sign of disapproval and handed the scoundrel -a little bottle which he took with a shrug of the shoulders, apparently -saying: - -"As you please! It's all the same to me!" - -Then, sitting side by side, they embarked on a lively conversation, the -countess giving her instructions, while Karl expressed his approval or -his dissent. - -Paul had a feeling that, if he did not master his dismay, if he did not -stop the disordered beating of his heart, Élisabeth was lost. To save -her, he must keep his brain absolutely clear and take immediate -resolutions, as circumstances demanded, without giving himself time to -reflect or hesitate. And these resolutions he could only take at a -venture and perhaps erroneously, because he did not really know the -enemy's plans. Nevertheless he cocked his revolver. - -He was at that moment presuming that, when Élisabeth was ready to start, -she would return to the room and go away with the spy; but presently the -countess struck a bell on the table and spoke a few words to the servant -who appeared. The man went out. Paul heard two whistles, followed by the -hum of an approaching motor. - -Karl looked through the open door and down the passage. Then he turned -to the countess, as though to say: - -"Here she is. . . . She's coming down the stairs. . . ." - -Paul now understood that Élisabeth would go straight to the car and that -Karl would join her there. If so, it was a case for immediate action. - -For a second he remained undecided. Should he take advantage of the fact -that Karl was still there, burst into the room and shoot both him and -the countess dead? It would mean saving Élisabeth, because it was only -those two miscreants who had designs upon her life. But he dreaded the -failure of so daring an attempt and, jumping from the balcony, he called -Bernard. - -"Élisabeth is going off in a motor-car. Karl is with her and has been -told to poison her. Get out your revolver and come with me." - -"What do you intend to do?" - -"We shall see." - -They went round the villa, slipping through the bushes that bordered the -drive. The whole place, moreover, was deserted. - -"Listen," said Bernard, "there's a car going off." - -Paul, at first greatly alarmed, protested: - -"No, no, it's only the noise of the engine." - -In fact, when they came within sight of the front of the house, they saw -at the foot of the steps a closed car surrounded by a group of some -dozen soldiers. Its head-lamps, while lighting up one part of the -garden, left the spot where Paul and Bernard stood in darkness. - -A woman came down the steps and disappeared inside the car. - -"Élisabeth," said Paul. "And here comes Karl. . . ." - -The spy stopped on the bottom step and gave his orders to the soldier -who acted as chauffeur. Paul caught a syllable here and there. - -Their departure was imminent. Another moment and, if Paul raised no -obstacle, the car would carry off the assassin and his victim. It was a -horrible minute, for Paul Delroze felt all the danger attending an -interference which would not even possess the merit of being effective, -since Karl's death would not prevent the Comtesse Hermine from pursuing -her ends. - -Bernard whispered: - -"Surely you don't mean to carry away Élisabeth? There's a whole picket -of sentries there." - -"I mean to do only one thing, to do for Karl." - -"And then?" - -"Then they'll take us prisoners. We shall be questioned, cross-examined; -there will be a scandal. Prince Conrad will take the matter up." - -"And we shall be shot. I confess that your plan . . ." - -"Can you propose a better one?" - -He broke off. Karl the spy had flown into a rage and was storming at -his chauffeur; and Paul heard him shout: - -"You damned ass! You're always doing it! No petrol. . . . Where do you -think we shall find petrol in the middle of the night? There's some in -the garage, is there? Then run and fetch it, you fat-head! . . . And -where's my fur-coat? You've forgotten it? Go and get it at once. I shall -drive the car myself. I've no use for fools like you! . . ." - -The soldier started running. And Paul at once observed that he himself -would be able to reach the garage, of which he saw the lights, without -having to leave the protecting darkness. - -"Come," he said to Bernard. "I have an idea: you'll see what it is." - -With the sound of their footsteps deadened by a grassy lawn, they made -for that part of the out-houses containing the stables and motor-sheds, -which they were able to enter unseen by those without. The soldier was -in a back-room, the door of which was open. From their hiding-place they -saw him take from a peg a great goat-skin coat, which he threw over his -shoulder, and lay hold of four tins of petrol. Thus laden, he left the -back-room and passed in front of Paul and Bernard. - -The trick was soon done. Before he had time to cry out, he was knocked -down, rendered motionless and gagged. - -"That's that," said Paul. "Now give me his great-coat and his cap. I -would rather have avoided this disguise; but, if you want to be sure of -a thing, you mustn't stick at the means." - -"Then you're going to risk it?" asked Bernard. "Suppose Karl doesn't -recognize his chauffeur?" - -"He won't even think of looking at him." - -"But if he speaks to you?" - -"I shan't answer. Besides, once we are outside the grounds, I shall have -nothing to fear from him." - -"And what am I to do?" - -"You? Bind your prisoner carefully and lock him up in some safe place. -Then go back to the shrubbery beyond the window with the balcony. I hope -to join you there with Élisabeth some time during the middle of the -night; and we shall simply have to go back by the tunnel. If by accident -you don't see me return . . ." - -"Well?" - -"Well, then go back alone before it gets light." - -"But . . ." - -Paul was already moving away. He was in the mood in which a man refuses -to consider the actions which he has decided to perform. Moreover, the -event seemed to prove that he was right. Karl received him with abusive -language, but without paying the least attention to this supernumerary -for whom he could not show enough contempt. The spy put on his fur-coat, -sat down at the wheel and began to handle the levers while Paul took -his seat beside him. - -The car was starting, when a voice from the doorstep called, in a tone -of command: - -"Karl! Stop!" - -Paul felt a moment's anxiety. It was the Comtesse Hermine. She went up -to the spy and, lowering her voice, said, in French: - -"I want you, Karl, to be sure . . . But your driver doesn't know French, -does he?" - -"He hardly knows German, _Excellenz_. He's an idiot. You can speak -freely." - -"What I was going to say is, don't use more than ten drops out of the -bottle, else. . . ." - -"Very well, _Excellenz_. Anything more?" - -"Write to me in a week's time if everything has gone off well. Write to -our Paris address and not before: it would be useless." - -"Then you're going back to France, _Excellenz_?" - -"Yes, my plan is ripe." - -"The same plan?" - -"Yes. The weather is in our favor. It has been raining for days and the -staff have told me that they mean to act on their side. So I shall be -there to-morrow evening; and it will only need a touch of the thumb -. . ." - -"That's it, a touch of the thumb, no more. I've worked at it myself and -everything's ready. But you spoke to me of another plan, to complete the -first; and I confess that that one . . ." - -"It's got to be done. Luck is turning against us. If I succeed, it will -be the end of the run on the black." - -"And have you the Kaiser's consent?" - -"I didn't ask for it. It's one of those undertakings one doesn't talk -about." - -"But this one is terribly dangerous, _Excellenz_." - -"Can't be helped." - -"Sha'n't you want me over there, _Excellenz_?" - -"No. Get rid of the chit for us. That will be enough for the present. -Good-bye." - -"Good-bye, _Excellenz_." - -The spy released the brakes. The car started. - -The drive which ran round the central lawn led to a lodge which stood -beside the garden-gate and which served as a guard-room. The high walls -surrounding the grounds rose on either side of it. - -An officer came out of the lodge. Karl gave the pass-word, -"Hohenstaufen." The gate was opened and the motor dashed down a -high-road which first passed through the little town of Èbrecourt and -next wound among low hills. - -So Paul Delroze, at an hour before midnight, was alone in the open -country, with Élisabeth and Karl the spy. If he succeeded in mastering -the spy, as he did not doubt that he could, Élisabeth would be free. -There would then remain nothing to do but to return to Prince Conrad's -villa, with the aid of the pass-word, and pick up Bernard there. Once -the adventure was completed in accordance with Paul's designs, the -tunnel would bring back all the three of them to the Château d'Ornequin. - -Paul therefore gave way to the delight that was stealing over him. -Élisabeth was with him, under his protection: Élisabeth, whose courage, -no doubt, had yielded under the weight of her trials, but who had a -claim upon his indulgence because her misfortunes were due to his fault. -He forgot, he wished to forget all the ugly phases in the tragedy, in -order to think only of the end that was near at hand, his wife's triumph -and deliverance. - -He watched the road attentively, so as not to miss his way when -returning, and planned out his attack, fixing it at the first stop which -they would have to make. He resolved that he would not kill the spy, but -that he would stun him with a blow of his fist and, after knocking him -down and binding him, throw him into some wood by the road-side. - -They came to a fair-sized market-town, then two villages and then a town -where they had to stop and show the car's papers. It was past eleven. - -Then once more they were driving along country lanes which ran through a -series of little woods whose trees lit up as they passed. - -At that moment, the light of the lamps began to fail. Karl slackened -speed. He growled: - -"You dolt, can't you even keep your lamps alight? Have you got any -carbide?" - -Paul did not reply. Karl went on cursing his luck. Suddenly, he put on -the brakes, with an oath: - -"You blasted idiot! One can't go on like this. . . . Here, stir your -stumps and light up." - -Paul sprang from his seat, while the car drew up by the road-side. The -time had come to act. - -He first attended to the lamps, keeping an eye upon the spy's movements -and taking care to stand outside the rays. Karl got down, opened the -door of the car, and started a conversation which Paul could not hear. -Then he came back to where Paul was: - -"Well, pudding-head, haven't you done yet?" - -Paul had his back turned to him, attending to his work and waiting for -the propitious moment when the spy, coming two steps nearer, would be -within his reach. - -A minute elapsed. He clenched his fists. He foresaw the exact movement -which he would have to make and was on the point of making it, when -suddenly he felt himself seized round the body from behind and brought -to the ground without being able to offer the least resistance. - -"Thunder and lightning!" cried the spy, holding him down with his knee. -"So that's why you wouldn't answer? . . . It struck me somehow that you -were behaving queerly. . . . And then I never gave it another thought. -. . . It was the lamp, just now, that threw a light on your side-face. -. . . But who is the fellow I've got hold of? Some dog of a Frenchman, -may be?" - -Paul had stiffened his muscles and believed for a moment that he would -succeed in escaping from the other's grip. The enemy's strength was -yielding; Paul gradually seemed to master him; and he exclaimed: - -"Yes, a Frenchman, Paul Delroze, the one you used to try and kill, the -husband of Élisabeth, your victim. . . . Yes, it's I; and I know who you -are: you're Laschen, the sham Belgian; you're Karl the spy." - -He stopped. The spy, who had only weakened his effort to draw a dagger -from his belt, was now raising it against him: - -"Ah, Paul Delroze! . . . God's truth, this'll be a lucky trip! . . . -First the husband and then the wife. . . . Ah, so you came running into -my clutches! . . . Here, take this, my lad! . . ." - -Paul saw the gleam of a blade flashing above his face. He closed his -eyes, uttering Élisabeth's name. - -Another second; and three shots rang out in rapid succession. Some one -was firing from behind the group formed by the two adversaries. - -The spy swore a hideous oath. His grip became relaxed. The weapon in the -hand trembled and he fell flat on the ground, moaning: - -"Oh, the cursed woman! . . . That cursed woman! . . . I ought to have -strangled her in the car. . . . I knew this would happen. . . ." - -His voice failed him. He stammered: - -"I've got it this time. . . . Oh, that cursed woman! . . . And the pain -. . . !" - -Then he was silent. A few convulsions, a dying gasp and that was all. - -Paul had leapt to his feet. He ran to the woman who had saved his life -and who was still holding her revolver in her hand: - -"Élisabeth!" he cried, wild with delight. - -But he stopped, with his arms outstretched. In the dark, the woman's -figure did not seem to him to be Élisabeth's, but a taller and broader -figure. He blurted out, in a tone of infinite anguish: - -"Élisabeth . . . is it you? . . . Is it really you? . . ." - -And at the same time he intuitively knew the answer which he was about -to hear: - -"No," said the woman, "Mme. Delroze started a little before us, in -another motor. Karl and I were to join her." - -Paul remembered that car, of which he and Bernard had thought that he -heard the sound when going round the villa. As the two starts had taken -place with an interval of a few minutes at most between them, he cried: - -"Let us be quick then and lose no time. . . . By putting on speed, we -shall be sure to catch them. . . ." - -But the woman at once objected: - -"It's impossible, because the two cars have taken different roads." - -"What does that matter, if they lead to the same point. Where are they -taking Mme. Delroze?" - -"To a castle belonging to the Comtesse Hermine." - -"And where is that castle?" - -"I don't know." - -"You don't know? But this is terrible! At least, you know its name. - -"No, I don't. Karl never told me." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE IMPOSSIBLE STRUGGLE - - -In the terrible state of distress into which those last words threw him, -Paul felt the need of some immediate action, even as he had done at the -sight of the banquet given by Prince Conrad. Certainly, all hope was -lost. His plan, which was to use the tunnel before the alarm was raised, -his plan was shattered. Granting that he succeeded in finding Élisabeth -and delivering her, a very unlikely contingency, at what moment would -this take place? And how was he afterwards to escape the enemy and -return to France? - -No, henceforward space and time were both against him. His defeat was -such that there was nothing for it but to resign himself and await the -final blow. - -And yet he did not flinch. He saw that any weakness would be -irreparable. The impulse that had carried him so far must be continued -unchecked and with more vigor than ever. - -He walked up to the spy. The woman was stooping over the body and -examining it by the light of one of the lamps which she had taken down. - -"He's dead, isn't he?" asked Paul. - -"Yes, he's dead. Two bullets hit him in the back." And she murmured, in -a broken voice, "It's horrible, what I've done. I've killed him myself! -But it's not a murder, sir, is it? And I had the right to, hadn't I? -. . . But it's horrible all the same . . . I've killed Karl!" - -Her face, which was young and still rather pretty, though common, was -distorted. Her eyes seemed glued to the corpse. - -"Who are you?" asked Paul. - -She replied, sobbing: - -"I was his sweetheart . . . and better than that . . . or rather worse. -He had taken an oath that he would marry me. . . . But Karl's oath! He -was such a liar, sir, such a coward! . . . Oh, the things I know of him! -. . . I myself, simply through holding my tongue, gradually became his -accomplice. He used to frighten me so! I no longer loved him, but I was -afraid of him and obeyed him . . . with such loathing, at the end! . . . -And he knew how I loathed him. He used often to say, 'You are quite -capable of killing me some day or other.' No, sir, I did think of it, -but I should never have had the courage. It was only just now, when I -saw that he was going to stab you . . . and above all when I heard your -name. . . ." - -"My name? What has that to do with it?" - -"You are Madame Delroze's husband." - -"Well?" - -"Well, I know her. Not for long, only since to-day. This morning, Karl, -on his way from Belgium, passed through the town where I was and took me -to Prince Conrad's. He told me I was to be lady's maid to a French lady -whom we were going to take to a castle. I knew what that meant. I should -once more have to be his accomplice, to inspire confidence. And then I -saw that French lady, I saw her crying; and she was so gentle and kind -that I felt sorry for her. I promised to rescue her . . . Only, I never -thought that it would be in this way, by killing Karl. . . ." - -She drew herself up suddenly and said, in a hard voice: - -"But it had to be, sir. It was bound to happen, for I knew too much -about him. It had to be he or I. . . . It was he . . . and I can't help -it and I'm not sorry. . . . He was the wickedest wretch on earth; and, -with people like him, one mustn't hesitate. No, I am not sorry." - -Paul asked: - -"He was devoted to the Comtesse Hermine, was he not?" - -She shuddered and lowered her voice to reply: - -"Oh, don't speak of her, please! She is more terrible still; and she is -still alive. Ah, if she should ever suspect!" - -"Who is the woman?" - -"How can I tell? She comes and goes, she is the mistress wherever she -may be. . . . People obey her as they do the Emperor. Everybody fears -her . . . as they do her brother." - -"Her brother?" - -"Yes, Major Hermann." - -"What's that? Do you mean to say that Major Hermann is her brother?" - -"Why, of course! Besides, you have only to look at him. He is the very -image of the Comtesse Hermine!" - -"Have you ever seen them together?" - -"Upon my word, I can't remember. Why do you ask?" - -Time was too precious for Paul to insist. The woman's opinion of the -Comtesse Hermine did not matter much. He asked: - -"She is staying at the prince's?" - -"For the present, yes. The prince is on the first floor, at the back; -she is on the same floor, but in front." - -"If I let her know that Karl has had an accident and that he has sent -me, his chauffeur, to tell her, will she see me?" - -"Certainly." - -"Does she know Karl's chauffeur, whose place I took?" - -"No. He was a soldier whom Karl brought with him from Belgium." - -Paul thought for a moment and then said: - -"Lend me a hand." - -They pushed the body towards the ditch by the road-side, rolled it in -and covered it with dead branches. - -"I shall go back to the villa," he said. "You walk on until you come to -the first cluster of houses. Wake the people and tell them the story of -how Karl was murdered by his chauffeur and how you ran away. The time -which it will take to inform the police, to question you and to -telephone to the villa is more than I need." - -She took alarm: - -"But the Comtesse Hermine?" - -"Have no fear there. Granting that I do not deprive her of her power of -doing mischief, how could she suspect you, when the -police-investigations will hold me alone to account for everything? -Besides, we have no choice." - -And, without more words, he started the engine, took his seat at the -wheel and, in spite of the woman's frightened entreaties, drove off. - -He drove off with the same eagerness and decision as though he were -fulfilling the conditions of some new plan of which he had fixed every -detail beforehand and as though he felt sure of its success. - -"I shall see the countess," he said to himself. "She will either be -anxious as to Karl's fate and want me to take her to him at once or she -will see me in one of the rooms in the villa. In either case I shall -find a method of compelling her to reveal the name of the castle in -which Élisabeth is a prisoner. I shall even compel her to give me the -means of delivering her and helping her to escape." - -But how vague it all was! The obstacles in the way! The impossibilities! -How could he expect circumstances to be so complaisant as first to blind -the countess' eyes to the facts and next to deprive her of all -assistance? A woman of her stamp was not likely to let herself be taken -in by words or subdued by threats. - -No matter, Paul would not entertain the thought of failure. Success lay -at the end of his undertaking; and in order to achieve it more quickly -he increased the pace, rushing his car like a whirlwind along the roads -and hardly slackening speed as he passed through villages and towns. - -"Hohenstaufen!" he cried to the sentry posted outside the wall. - -The officer of the picket, after questioning him, sent him on to the -sergeant in command of the post at the front-door. The sergeant was the -only one who had free access to the villa; and he would inform the -countess. - -"Very well," said Paul. "I'll put up my car first." - -In the garage, he turned off his lights; and, as he went towards the -villa, he thought that it might be well, before going back to the -sergeant, to look up Bernard and learn if his brother-in-law had -succeeded in discovering anything. - -He found him behind the villa, in the clumps of shrubs facing the window -with the balcony. - -"You're by yourself?" said Bernard, anxiously. - -"Yes, the job failed. Élisabeth was in an earlier motor." - -"What an awful thing!" - -"Yes, but it can be put right. And you . . . what about the chauffeur?" - -"He's safely hidden away. No one will see him . . . at least not before -the morning, when other chauffeurs come to the garage." - -"Very well. Anything else?" - -"There was a patrol in the grounds an hour ago. I managed to keep out of -sight." - -"And then?" - -"Then I made my way as far as the tunnel. The men were beginning to -stir. Besides, there was something that made them jolly well pull -themselves together!" - -"What was that?" - -"The sudden arrival of a certain person of our acquaintance, the woman I -met at Corvigny, who is so remarkably like Major Hermann." - -"Was she going the rounds?" - -"No, she was leaving." - -"Yes, I know, she means to leave." - -"She has left." - -"Oh, nonsense! I can't believe that. There was no immediate hurry about -her departure for France." - -"I saw her go, though." - -"How? By what road?" - -"The tunnel, of course! Do you imagine that the tunnel serves no further -purpose? That was the road she took, before my eyes, under the most -comfortable conditions, in an electric trolley driven by a brakesman. No -doubt, since the object of her journey was, as you say, to get to -France, they shunted her on to the Corvigny branch. That was two hours -ago. I heard the trolley come back." - -The disappearance of the Comtesse Hermine was a fresh blow to Paul. How -was he now to find, how to deliver Élisabeth? What clue could he trust -in this darkness, in which each of his efforts was ending in disaster? - -He pulled himself together, made an act of will and resolved to -persevere in the adventure until he attained his object. He asked -Bernard if he had seen nothing more. - -"No, nothing." - -"Nobody going or coming in the garden?" - -"No. The servants have gone to bed. The lights are out." - -"All the lights?" - -"All except one, there, over our heads." - -The light was on the first floor, at a window situated above the window -through which Paul had watched Prince Conrad's supper-party. He asked: - -"Was that light put on while I was up on the balcony?" - -"Yes, towards the end." - -"From what I was told," Paul muttered, "that must be Prince Conrad's -room. He's drunk and had to be carried upstairs." - -"Yes, I saw some shadows at that time; and nothing has moved since." - -"He's evidently sleeping off his champagne. Oh, if one could only see, -if one could get into the room!" - -"That's easily done," said Bernard. - -"How?" - -"Through the next room, which must be the dressing-room. They've left -the window open, no doubt to give the prince a little air." - -"But I should want a ladder . . ." - -"There's one hanging on the wall of the coach-house. Shall I get it for -you?" - -"Yes, do," said Paul eagerly. "Be quick." - -A whole new scheme was taking shape in his mind, similar in some -respects to his first plan of campaign and likely, he thought, to lead -to a successful issue. - -He made certain that the approaches to the villa on either side were -deserted and that none of the soldiers on guard had moved away from the -front-door. Then, when Bernard was back, he placed the ladder in -position and leant it against the wall. They went up. - -The open window belonged, as they expected, to the dressing-room and the -light from the bedroom showed through the open door. Not a sound came -from that other room except a loud snoring. Paul put his head through -the doorway. - -Prince Conrad was lying fast asleep across his bed, like a loose-jointed -doll, clad in his uniform, the front of which was covered with stains. -He was sleeping so soundly that Paul was able to examine the room at his -ease. There was a sort of little lobby between it and the passage, with -a door at either end. He locked and bolted both doors, so that they were -now alone with Prince Conrad, while it was impossible for them to be -heard from the outside. - -"Come on," said Paul, when they had apportioned the work to be done. - -And he placed a twisted towel over the prince's face and tried to insert -the ends into his mouth while Bernard bound his wrists and ankles with -some more towels. All this was done in silence. The prince offered no -resistance and uttered not a cry. He had opened his eyes and lay staring -at his aggressors with the air of a man who does not understand what is -happening to him, but is seized with increasing dread as he becomes -aware of his danger. - -"Not much pluck about William's son and heir," chuckled Bernard. "Lord, -what a funk he's in! Hi, young-fellow-my-lad, pull yourself together! -Where's your smelling-bottle?" - -Paul had at last succeeded in cramming half the towel into his mouth. He -lifted him up and said: - -"Now let's be off." - -"What do you propose to do?" - -"Take him away." - -"Where to?" - -"To France." - -"To France?" - -"Well, of course. We've got him; he'll have to help us." - -"They won't let him through." - -"And the tunnel?" - -"Out of the question. They're keeping too close a watch now." - -"We shall see." - -He took his revolver and pointed it at Prince Conrad: - -"Listen to me," he said. "Your head is too muddled, I dare say, to take -in any questions. But a revolver is easy to understand, isn't it? It -talks a very plain language, even to a man who is drunk and shaking all -over with fright. Well, if you don't come with me quietly, if you -attempt to struggle or to make a noise, if my friend and I are in danger -for a single moment, you're done for. You can feel the barrel of my -revolver on your temple: Well, it's there to blow out your brains. Do -you agree to my conditions?" - -The prince nodded his head. - -"Good," said Paul. "Bernard, undo his legs, but fasten his arms along -his body. . . . That's it. . . . And now let's be off." - -The descent of the ladder was easily accomplished and they walked -through the shrubberies to the fence which separated the garden from the -yard containing the barracks. Here they handed the prince across to -each other, like a parcel, and then, taking the same road as when they -came, they reached the quarries. - -The night was bright enough to allow them to see their way; and, -moreover, they had in front of them a diffused glow which seemed to rise -from the guard-house at the entrance to the tunnel. And indeed all the -lights there were burning; and the men were standing outside the shed, -drinking coffee. - -A soldier was pacing up and down in front of the tunnel, with his rifle -on his shoulder. - -"We are two," whispered Bernard. "There are six of them; and, at the -first shot fired, they will be joined by some hundreds of Boches who are -quartered five minutes away. It's a bit of an unequal struggle, what do -you say?" - -What increased the difficulty to the point of making it insuperable was -that they were not really two but three and that their prisoner hampered -them most terribly. With him it was impossible to hurry, impossible to -run away. They would have to think of some stratagem to help them. - -Slowly, cautiously, stealing along in such a way that not a stone rolled -from under their footsteps or the prince's, they described a circle -around the lighted space which brought them, after an hour, close to the -tunnel, under the rocky slopes against which its first buttresses were -built. - -"Stay there," said Paul to Bernard, speaking very low, but just loud -enough for the prince to hear. "Stay where you are and remember my -instructions. First of all, take charge of the prince, with your -revolver in your right hand and with your left hand on his collar. If he -struggles, break his head. That will be a bad business for us, but just -as bad for him. I shall go back to a certain distance from the shed and -draw off the five men on guard. Then the man doing sentry down there -will either join the rest, in which case you go on with the prince, or -else he will obey orders and remain at his post, in which case you fire -at him and wound him . . . and go on with the prince." - -"Yes, I shall go on, but the Boches will come after me and catch us up." - -"No, they won't." - -"If you say so. . . ." - -"Very well, that's understood. And you, sir," said Paul to the prince, -"do you understand? Absolute submission; if not, the least carelessness, -a mere mistake may cost you your life." - -Bernard whispered in his brother-in-law's ear: - -"I've picked up a rope; I shall fasten it round his neck; and, if he -jibs, he'll feel a sharp tug to recall him to the true state of things. -Only, Paul, I warn you that, if he takes it into his head to struggle, I -am incapable of killing him just like that, in cold blood." - -"Don't worry. He's too much afraid to struggle. He'll go with you like -a lamb to the other end of the tunnel. When you get there, lock him up -in some corner of the château, but don't tell any one who he is." - -"And you, Paul?" - -"Never mind about me." - -"Still . . ." - -"We both stand the same risk. We're going to play a terribly dangerous -game and there's every chance of our losing it. But, if we win, it means -Élisabeth's safety. So we must go for it boldly. Good-bye, Bernard, for -the present. In ten minutes everything will be settled one way or the -other." - -They embraced and Paul walked away. - -As he had said, this one last effort could succeed only through -promptness and audacity; and it had to be made in the spirit in which a -man makes a desperate move. Ten minutes more would see the end of the -adventure. Ten minutes and he would be either victorious or a dead man. - -Every action which he performed from that moment was as orderly and -methodical as if he had had time to think it out carefully and to ensure -its inevitable success, whereas in reality he was forming a series of -separate decisions as he went along and as the tragic circumstances -seemed to call for them. - -Taking a roundabout way and keeping to the slopes of the mounds formed -by the sand thrown up in the works, he reached the hollow -communication-road between the quarries and the garrison-camp. On the -last of these rounds, his foot struck a block of stone which gave way -beneath him. On stooping and groping with his hands, he perceived that -this block held quite a heap of sand and pebbles in position behind it. - -"That's what I want," he said, without a moment's reflection. - -And, giving the stone a mighty kick, he sent the heap shooting into the -road with a roar like an avalanche. - -Paul jumped down among the stones, lay flat on his chest and began to -scream for help, as though he had met with an accident. - -From where he lay, it was impossible, owing to the winding of the road, -to hear him in the barracks; but the least cry was bound to carry as far -as the shed at the mouth of the tunnel, which was only a hundred yards -away at most. The soldiers on guard came running along at once. - -He counted only five of them. In an almost unintelligible voice, he gave -incoherent, gasping replies to the corporal's questions and conveyed the -impression that he had been sent by Prince Conrad to bring back the -Comtesse Hermine. - -Paul was quite aware that his stratagem had no chance of succeeding -beyond a very brief space of time; but every minute gained was of -inestimable value, because Bernard would make use of it on his side to -take action against the sixth man, the sentry outside the tunnel, and to -make his escape with Prince Conrad. Perhaps that man would come as -well. Or else perhaps Bernard would get rid of him without using his -revolver and therefore without attracting attention. - -And Paul, gradually raising his voice, was spluttering out vague -explanations, which only irritated without enlightening the corporal, -when a shot rang out, followed by two others. - -For the moment the corporal hesitated, not knowing for certain where the -sound came from. The men stood away from Paul and listened. Thereupon he -passed through them and walked straight on, without their realizing, in -the darkness, that it was he who was moving away. Then, at the first -turn, he started running and reached the shed in a few strides. - -Twenty yards in front of him, at the mouth of the tunnel, he saw Bernard -struggling with Prince Conrad, who was trying to escape. Near them, the -sentry was dragging himself along the ground and moaning. - -Paul saw clearly what he had to do. To lend Bernard a hand and with him -attempt to run the risk of flight would have been madness, because their -enemies would inevitably have caught them up and in any case Prince -Conrad would have been set free. No, the essential thing was to stop the -rush of the five other men, whose shadows were already appearing at the -bend in the road, and thus to enable Bernard to get away with the -prince. - -Half-hidden behind the shed, he aimed his revolver at them and cried: - -"Halt!" - -The corporal did not obey and ran on into the belt of light. Paul fired. -The German fell, but only wounded, for he began to command in a savage -tone: - -"Forward! Go for him! Forward, can't you, you funks!" - -The men did not stir a step. Paul seized a rifle from the stack which -they had made of theirs near the shed and, while taking aim at them, was -able to give a glance backwards and to see that Bernard had at last -mastered Prince Conrad and was leading him well into the tunnel. - -"It's only a question of holding out for five minutes," thought Paul, -"so that Bernard may go as far as possible." - -And he was so calm at this moment that he could have counted those -minutes by the steady beating of his pulse. - -"Forward! Rush at him! Forward!" the corporal kept clamoring, having -doubtless seen the figures of the two fugitives, though without -recognizing Prince Conrad. - -Rising to his knees, he fired a revolver-shot at Paul, who replied by -breaking his arm with a bullet. And yet the corporal went on shouting at -the top of his voice: - -"Forward! There are two of them making off through the tunnel! Forward! -Here comes help!" - -It was half-a-dozen soldiers from the barracks, who had run up at the -sound of the shooting. Paul had now made his way into the shed. He broke -a window-pane and fired three shots. The soldiers made for shelter; but -others arrived, took their orders from the corporal and dispersed; and -Paul saw them scrambling up the adjoining slopes in order to head him -off. He fired his rifle a few more times; but what was the good? All -hope of resistance had long since disappeared. - -He persevered, however, killing his adversaries at intervals, firing -incessantly and thus gaining all the time possible. But he saw that the -enemy was maneuvering with the object of first circumventing him and -then making for the tunnel and chasing the fugitives. - -Paul set his teeth. He was really aware of each second that passed, of -each of those inappreciable seconds which increased Bernard's distance. - -Three men disappeared down the yawning mouth of the tunnel; then a -fourth; then a fifth. Moreover, the bullets were now beginning to rain -upon the shed. - -Paul made a calculation: - -"Bernard must be six or seven hundred yards away. The three men pursuing -him have gone fifty yards . . . seventy-five yards now. That's all -right." - -A serried mass of Germans were coming towards the shed. It was evidently -not believed that Paul was alone, so quickly did he fire. This time -there was nothing for it but to surrender. - -"It's time," he thought. "Bernard is outside the danger-zone." - -He suddenly rushed at the board containing the handles which -corresponded with the mine-chambers in the tunnel, smashed the glass -with the butt-end of his rifle and pulled down the first handle and the -second. - -The earth seemed to shake. A thunderous roar rolled under the tunnel and -spread far and long, like a reverberating echo. - -The way was blocked between Bernard d'Andeville and the eager pack that -was trying to catch him. Bernard could take Prince Conrad quietly to -France. - -Then Paul walked out of the shed, raising his arms in the air and -crying, in a cheerful voice: - -"_Kamerad! Kamerad!_" - -Ten men surrounded him in a moment; and the officer who commanded them -shouted, in a frenzy of rage: - -"Let him be shot! . . . At once . . . at once! . . . Let him be shot! -. . ." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE LAW OF THE CONQUEROR - - -Brutally handled though he was, Paul offered no resistance; and, while -they were pushing him with needless violence towards a perpendicular -part of the cliff, he continued his inner calculations: - -"It is mathematically certain that the two explosions took place at -distances of three hundred and four hundred yards, respectively. I can -therefore also take it as certain that Bernard and Prince Conrad were on -the far side and that the men in pursuit were on this side. So all is -for the best." - -Docilely and with a sort of chaffing complacency he submitted to the -preparations for his execution. The twelve soldiers entrusted with it -were already drawn up in line under the bright rays of an electric -search-light and were only waiting for the order. The corporal whom he -had wounded early in the fight dragged himself up to him and snarled: - -"Shot! . . . You're going to be shot, you dirty _Franzose_!" - -He answered, with a laugh: - -"Not a bit of it! Things don't happen as quickly as all that." - -"Shot!" repeated the other. "_Herr Leutnant_ said so." - -"Well, what's he waiting for, your _Herr Leutnant_?" - -The lieutenant was making a rapid investigation at the entrance to the -tunnel. The men who had gone down it came running back, half-asphyxiated -by the fumes of the explosion. As for the sentry, whom Bernard had been -forced to get rid of, he was losing blood so profusely that it was no -use trying to obtain any fresh information from him. - -At that moment, news arrived from the barracks, where they had just -learnt, through a courier sent from the villa, that Prince Conrad had -disappeared. The officers were ordered to double the guard and to keep a -good lookout, especially at the approaches. - -Of course, Paul had counted on this diversion or some other of the same -kind which would delay his execution. The day was beginning to break and -he had little doubt that, Prince Conrad having been left dead drunk in -his bedroom, one of his servants had been told to keep a watch on him. -Finding the doors locked, the man must have given the alarm. This would -lead to an immediate search. - -But what surprised Paul was that no one suspected that the prince had -been carried off through the tunnel. The sentry was lying unconscious -and was unable to speak. The men had not realized that, of the two -fugitives seen at a distance, one was dragging the other along. In -short, it was thought that the prince had been assassinated. His -murderers must have flung his body into some corner of the quarries and -then taken to flight. Two of them had succeeded in escaping. The third -was a prisoner. And nobody for a second entertained the least suspicion -of an enterprise whose audacity simply surpassed imagination. - -In any case there could no longer be any question of shooting Paul -without a preliminary inquiry, the results of which must first be -communicated to the highest authorities. He was taken to the villa, -where he was divested of his German overcoat, carefully searched and -lastly was locked up in a bedroom under the protection of four stalwart -soldiers. - -He spent several hours in dozing, glad of this rest, which he needed so -badly, and feeling very easy in his mind, because, now that Karl was -dead, the Comtesse Hermine absent and Élisabeth in a place of safety, -there was nothing for him to do but to await the normal course of -events. - -At ten o'clock he was visited by a general who endeavored to question -him and who, receiving no satisfactory replies, grew angry, but with a -certain reserve in which Paul observed the sort of respect which people -feel for noted criminals. And he said to himself: - -"Everything is going as it should. This visit is only a preliminary to -prepare me for the coming of a more serious ambassador, a sort of -plenipotentiary." - -He gathered from the general's words that they were still looking for -the prince's body. They were now in fact looking for it beyond the -immediate precincts, for a new clue, provided by the discovery and the -revelations of the chauffeur whom Paul and Bernard had imprisoned in the -garage, as well as by the departure and return of the motor car, as -reported by the sentries, widened the field of investigation -considerably. - -At twelve o'clock Paul was provided with a substantial meal. The -attentions shown to him increased. Beer was served with the lunch and -afterwards coffee. - -"I shall perhaps be shot," he thought, "but with due formality and not -before they know exactly who the mysterious person is whom they have the -honor of shooting, not to mention the motives of his enterprise and the -results obtained. Now I alone am able to supply the details. -Consequently . . ." - -He so clearly felt the strength of his position and the necessity in -which his enemies stood to contribute to the success of his plan that he -was not surprised at being taken, an hour later, to a small drawing-room -in the villa, before two persons all over gold lace, who first had him -searched once more and then saw that he was fastened up with more -elaborate care than ever. - -"It must," he thought, "be at least the imperial chancellor coming all -the way from Berlin to see me . . . unless indeed . . ." - -Deep down within himself, in view of the circumstances, he could not -help foreseeing an even more powerful intervention than the -chancellor's; and, when he heard a motor car stop under the windows of -the villa and saw the fluster of the two gold-laced individuals, he was -convinced that his anticipations were being fully confirmed. - -Everything was ready. Even before any one appeared, the two individuals -drew themselves up and stood to attention; and the soldiers, stiffer -still, looked like dolls out of a Noah's ark. - -The door opened. And a whirlwind entrance took place, amid a jingling of -spurs and saber. The man who arrived in this fashion at once gave an -impression of feverish haste and of imminent departure. What he intended -to do he must accomplish within the space of a few minutes. - -At a sign from him, all those present quitted the room. - -The Emperor and the French officer were left face to face. And the -Emperor immediately asked, in an angry voice: - -"Who are you? What did you come to do? Who are your accomplices? By -whose orders were you acting?" - -It was difficult to recognize in him the figure represented by his -photographs and the illustrations in the newspapers, for the face had -aged into a worn and wasted mask, furrowed with wrinkles and disfigured -with yellow blotches. - -Paul was quivering with hatred, not so much a personal hatred aroused by -the recollection of his own sufferings as a hatred made up of horror and -contempt for the greatest criminal imaginable. And, despite his absolute -resolve not to depart from the usual formulas and the rules of outward -respect, he answered: - -"Let them untie me!" - -The Emperor started. It was the first time certainly that any one had -spoken to him like that; and he exclaimed: - -"Why, you're forgetting that a word will be enough to have you shot! And -you dare! Conditions! . . ." - -Paul remained silent. The Emperor strode up and down, with his hand on -the hilt of his sword, which he dragged along the carpet. Twice he -stopped and looked at Paul; and, when Paul did not move an eyelid, he -resumed his march, with an increasing display of indignation. And, all -of a sudden, he pressed the button of an electric bell: - -"Untie him!" he said to the men who hurried into the room. - -When released from his bonds, Paul rose up and stood like a soldier in -the presence of his superior officer. - -The room was emptied once again. Then the Emperor went up to Paul and, -leaving a table as a barrier between them, asked, still in a harsh -voice: - -"Prince Conrad?" - -Paul answered: - -"Prince Conrad is not dead, sir; he is well." - -"Ah!" said the Kaiser, evidently relieved. And, still reluctant to come -to the point, he continued: "That does not affect matters in so far as -you are concerned. Assault . . . espionage . . . not to speak of the -murder of one of my best servants. . . ." - -"Karl the spy, sir? I killed him in self-defense." - -"But you did kill him? Then for that murder and for the rest you shall -be shot." - -"No, sir. Prince Conrad's life is security for mine." - -The Emperor shrugged his shoulders: - -"If Prince Conrad is alive he will be found." - -"No, sir, he will not be found." - -"There is not a place in Germany where my searching will fail to find -him," he declared, striking the table with his fist. - -"Prince Conrad is not in Germany, sir." - -"Eh? What's that? Then where is he?" - -"In France." - -"In France!" - -"Yes, sir, in France, at the Château d'Ornequin, in the custody of my -friends. If I am not back with them by six o'clock to-morrow evening, -Prince Conrad will be handed over to the military authorities." - -The Emperor seemed to be choking, so much so that his anger suddenly -collapsed and that he did not even seek to conceal the violence of the -blow. All the humiliation, all the ridicule that would fall upon him and -upon his dynasty and upon the empire if his son were a prisoner, the -loud laughter that would ring through the whole world at the news, the -assurance which the possession of such a hostage would give to the -enemy; all this showed in his anxious look and in the stoop of his -shoulders. - -Paul felt the thrill of victory. He held that man as firmly as you hold -under your knee the beaten foe who cries out for mercy; and the balance -of the forces in conflict was so definitely broken in his favor that the -Kaiser's very eyes, raised to Paul's, gave him a sense of his triumph. - -The Emperor was able to picture the various phases of the drama enacted -during the previous night: the arrival through the tunnel, the -kidnapping by the way of the tunnel, the exploding of the mines to -ensure the flight of the assailants; and the mad daring of the adventure -staggered him. He murmured: - -"Who are you?" - -Paul relaxed slightly from his rigid attitude. He placed a quivering -hand upon the table between them and said, in a grave tone: - -"Sixteen years ago, sir, in the late afternoon of a September day, you -inspected the works of the tunnel which you were building from Èbrecourt -to Corvigny under the guidance of a person--how shall I describe -her--of a person highly placed in your secret service. At the moment -when you were leaving a little chapel which stands in the Ornequin -woods, you met two Frenchmen, a father and son--you remember, sir? It -was raining--and the meeting was so disagreeable to you that you allowed -a gesture of annoyance to escape you. Ten minutes later, the lady who -accompanied you returned and tried to take one of the Frenchmen, the -father, back with her to German territory, alleging as a pretext that -you wished to speak to him. The Frenchman refused. The woman murdered -him before his son's eyes. His name was Delroze. He was my father." - -The Kaiser had listened with increasing astonishment. It seemed to Paul -that his color had become more jaundiced than ever. Nevertheless he kept -his countenance under Paul's gaze. To him the death of that M. Delroze -was one of those minor incidents over which an emperor does not waste -time. Did he so much as remember it? - -He therefore declined to enter into the details of a crime which he had -certainly not ordered, though his indulgence for the criminal had made -him a party to it, and he contented himself, after a pause, with -observing: - -"The Comtesse Hermine is responsible for her own actions." - -"And responsible only to herself," Paul retorted, "seeing that the -police of her country refused to let her be called to account for this -one." - -The Emperor shrugged his shoulders, with the air of a man who scorns to -discuss questions of German morality and higher politics. He looked at -his watch, rang the bell, gave notice that he would be ready to leave in -a few minutes and, turning to Paul, said: - -"So it was to avenge your father's death that you carried off Prince -Conrad?" - -"No, sir, that is a question between the Comtesse Hermine and me; but -with Prince Conrad I have another matter to settle. When Prince Conrad -was staying at the Château d'Ornequin, he pestered with his attentions a -lady living in the house. Finding himself rebuffed by her, he brought -her here, to his villa, as a prisoner. The lady bears my name; and I -came to fetch her." - -It was evident from the Emperor's attitude that he knew nothing of the -story and that his son's pranks were a great source of worry to him. - -"Are you sure?" he asked. "Is the lady here?" - -"She was here last night, sir. But the Comtesse Hermine resolved to do -away with her and gave her into the charge of Karl the spy, with -instructions to take her out of Prince Conrad's reach and poison her." - -"That's a lie!" cried the Emperor. "A damnable lie!" - -"There is the bottle which the Comtesse Hermine handed to Karl the -spy." - -"And then? And then?" said the Kaiser, in an angry voice. - -"Then, sir, as Karl the spy was dead and as I did not know the place to -which my wife had been taken, I came back here. Prince Conrad was -asleep. With the aid of one of my friends, I brought him down from his -room and sent him into France through the tunnel." - -"And I suppose, in return for his liberty, you want the liberty of your -wife?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"But I don't know where she is!" exclaimed the Emperor. - -"She is in a country house belonging to the Comtesse Hermine. Perhaps, -if you would just think, sir . . . a country house a few hours off by -motor car, say, a hundred or a hundred and twenty miles at most." - -The Emperor, without speaking, kept tapping the table angrily with the -pommel of his sword. Then he said: - -"Is that all you ask?" - -"No, sir." - -"What? You want something more?" - -"Yes, sir, the release of twenty French prisoners whose names appear on -a list given me by the French commander-in-chief." - -This time the Emperor sprang to his feet with a bound: - -"You're mad! Twenty prisoners! And officers, I expect? Commanders of -army corps? Generals?" - -"The list also contains the names of privates, sir." - -The Emperor refused to listen. His fury found expression in wild -gestures and incoherent words. His eyes shot terrible glances at Paul. -The idea of taking his orders from that little French subaltern, himself -a captive and yet in a position to lay down the law, must have been -fearfully unpleasant. Instead of punishing his insolent enemy, he had to -argue with him and to bow his head before his outrageous proposals. But -he had no choice. There was no means of escape. He had as his adversary -one whom not even torture would have caused to yield. - -And Paul continued: - -"Sir, my wife's liberty against Prince Conrad's liberty would really not -be a fair bargain. What do you care, sir, whether my wife is a prisoner -or free? No, it is only reasonable that Prince Conrad's release should -be the object of an exchange which justifies it. And twenty French -prisoners are none too many. . . . Besides, there is no need for this to -be done publicly. The prisoners can come back to France, one by one, if -you prefer, as though in exchange for German prisoners of the same rank -. . . so that . . ." - -The irony of these conciliatory words, intended to soften the bitterness -of defeat and to conceal the blow struck at the imperial pride under the -guise of a concession! Paul thoroughly relished those few minutes. He -received the impression that this man, upon whom a comparatively slight -injury to his self-respect inflicted so great a torment, must be -suffering more seriously still at seeing his gigantic scheme come to -nothing under the formidable onslaught of destiny. - -"I am nicely revenged," thought Paul to himself. "And this is only the -beginning!" - -The capitulation was at hand. The Emperor declared: - -"I shall see. . . . I will give orders. . . ." - -Paul protested: - -"It would be dangerous to wait, sir. Prince Conrad's capture might -become known in France . . ." - -"Well," said the Emperor, "bring Prince Conrad back and your wife shall -be restored to you the same day." - -But Paul was pitiless. He insisted on being treated with entire -confidence: - -"No, sir," he said, "I do not think that things can happen just like -that. My wife is in a most horrible position; and her very life is at -stake. I must ask to be taken to her at once. She and I will be in -France this evening. It is imperative that we should be in France this -evening." - -He repeated the words in a very firm tone and added: - -"As for the French prisoners, sir, they can be returned under such -conditions as you may be pleased to state. I will give you a list of -their names with the places at which they are interned." - -Paul took a pencil and a sheet of paper. When he had finished writing, -the Emperor snatched the list from him and his face immediately became -convulsed. At each name he seemed to shake with impotent rage. He -crumpled the paper into a ball, as though he had resolved to break off -the whole arrangement. But, all of a sudden, abandoning his resistance, -with a hurried movement, as though feverishly determined to have done -with an exasperating business, he rang the bell three times. - -An orderly officer entered with a brisk step and brought his heels -together before the Kaiser. - -The Emperor reflected a few seconds longer. Then he gave his commands: - -"Take Lieutenant Delroze in a motor car to Schloss Hildensheim and bring -him back with his wife to the Èbrecourt outposts. On this day week, meet -him at the same point on our lines. He will be accompanied by Prince -Conrad and you by the twenty French prisoners whose names are on this -list. You will effect the exchange in a discreet manner, which you will -fix upon with Lieutenant Delroze. That will do. Keep me informed by -personal reports." - -This was uttered in a jerky, authoritative tone, as though it were a -series of measures which the Emperor had adopted of his own initiative, -without undergoing pressure of any kind and by the mere exercise of his -imperial will. - -And, having thus settled the matter, he walked out, carrying his head -high, swaggering with his sword and jingling his spurs. - -"One more victory to his credit! What a play-actor!" thought Paul, who -could not help laughing, to the officer's great horror. - -He heard the Emperor's motor drive away. The interview had lasted hardly -ten minutes. - -A moment later he himself was outside, hastening along the road to -Hildensheim. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -HILL 132 - - -What a ride it was! And how gay Paul Delroze felt! He was at last -attaining his object; and this time it was not one of those hazardous -enterprises which so often end in cruel disappointment, but the logical -outcome and reward of his efforts. He was beyond the reach of the least -shade of anxiety. There are victories--and his recent victory over the -Emperor was one of them--which involve the disappearance of every -obstacle. Élisabeth was at Hildensheim Castle and he was on his way to -the castle and nothing would stop him. - -He seemed to recognize by the daylight features in the landscape which -had been hidden from him by the darkness of the night before: a hamlet -here, a village there, a river which he had skirted. He saw the string -of little road-side woods, and he saw the ditch by which he had fought -with Karl the spy. - -It took hardly more than another hour to reach the hill which was topped -by the feudal fortress of Hildensheim. It was surrounded by a wide moat, -spanned by a draw-bridge. A suspicious porter made his appearance, but -a few words from the officer caused the doors to be flung open. - -Two footmen hurried down from the castle and, in reply to Paul's -question, said that the French lady was walking near the pond. He asked -the way and said to the officer: - -"I shall go alone. We shall start very soon." - -It had been raining. A pale winter sun, stealing through the heavy -clouds, lit up the lawns and shrubberies. Paul went along a row of -hot-houses and climbed an artificial rockery whence trickled the thin -stream of a waterfall which formed a large pool set in a frame of dark -fir trees and alive with swans and wild duck. - -At the end of the pool was a terrace adorned with statues and stone -benches. And there he saw Élisabeth. - -Paul underwent an indescribable emotion. He had not spoken to his wife -since the outbreak of war. Since that day, Élisabeth had suffered the -most horrible trials and had suffered them for the simple reason that -she wished to appear in her husband's eyes as a blameless wife, the -daughter of a blameless mother. - -And now he was about to meet her again at a time when none of the -accusations which he had brought against the Comtesse Hermine could be -rebuffed and when Élisabeth herself had roused Paul to such a pitch of -indignation by her presence at Prince Conrad's supper-party! . . . - -But how long ago it all seemed! And how little it mattered! Prince -Conrad's blackguardism, the Comtesse Hermine's crimes, the ties of -relationship that might unite the two women, all the struggles which -Paul had passed through, all his anguish, all his rebelliousness, all -his loathing, were but so many insignificant details, now that he saw at -twenty paces from him his unhappy darling whom he loved so well. He no -longer thought of the tears which she had shed and saw nothing but her -wasted figure, shivering in the wintry wind. - -He walked towards her. His steps grated on the gravel path; and -Élisabeth turned round. - -She did not make a single gesture. He understood, from the expression of -her face, that she did not see him, really, that she looked upon him as -a phantom rising from the mists of dreams and that this phantom must -often float before her deluded eyes. - -She even smiled at him a little, such a sad smile that Paul clasped his -hands and was nearly falling on his knees: - -"Élisabeth. . . . Élisabeth," he stammered. - -Then she drew herself up and put her hand to her heart and turned even -paler than she had been the evening before, seated between Prince Conrad -and Comtesse Hermine. The image was emerging from the realm of mist; the -reality grew plainer before her eyes and in her brain. This time she saw -Paul! - -He ran towards her, for she seemed on the point of falling. But she -recovered herself, put out her hands to make him stay where he was and -looked at him with an effort as though she would have penetrated to the -very depths of his soul to read his thoughts. - -Paul, trembling with love from head to foot, did not stir. She murmured: - -"Ah, I see that you love me . . . that you have never ceased to love me! -. . . I am sure of it now . . ." - -She kept her arms outstretched, however, as though against an obstacle, -and he himself did not attempt to come closer. All their life and all -their happiness lay in their eyes; and, while her gaze wildly -encountered his, she went on: - -"They told me that you were a prisoner. Is it true, then? Oh, how I have -implored them to take me to you! How low I have stooped! I have even had -to sit down to table with them and laugh at their jokes and wear jewels -and pearl necklaces which he has forced upon me. All this in order to -see you! . . . And they kept on promising. And then, at length, they -brought me here last night and I thought that they had tricked me once -more . . . or else that it was a fresh trap . . . or that they had at -last made up their minds to kill me. . . . And now here you are, here -you are, Paul, my own darling! . . ." - -She took his face in her two hands and, suddenly, in a voice of despair: - -"But you are not going just yet? You will stay till to-morrow, surely? -They can't take you from me like that, after a few minutes? You're -staying, are you not? Oh, Paul, all my courage is gone . . . don't leave -me! . . ." - -She was greatly surprised to see him smile: - -"What's the matter? Why, my dearest, how happy you look!" - -He began to laugh and this time, drawing her to him with a masterful air -that admitted of no denial, he kissed her hair and her forehead and her -cheeks and her lips; and he said: - -"I am laughing because there is nothing to do but to laugh and kiss you. -I am laughing also because I have been imagining so many silly things. -Yes, just think, at that supper last night, I saw you from a distance -. . . and I suffered agonies: I accused you of I don't know what. . . . -Oh, what a fool I was!" - -She could not understand his gaiety; and she said again: - -"How happy you are! How can you be so happy?" - -"There is no reason why I should not be," said Paul, still laughing. - -"Come, look at things as they are: you and I are meeting after -unheard-of misfortunes. We are together; nothing can separate us; and -you wouldn't have me be glad?" - -"Do you mean to say that nothing can separate us?" she asked, in a voice -quivering with anxiety. - -"Why, of course! Is that so strange?" - -"You are staying with me? Are we to live here?" - -"No, not that! What an idea! You're going to pack up your things at -express speed and we shall be off." - -"Where to?" - -"Where to? To France, of course. When you think of it, that's the only -country where one's really comfortable." - -And, when she stared at him in amazement, he said: - -"Come, let's hurry. The car's waiting; and I promised Bernard--yes, your -brother Bernard--that we should be with him to-night. . . . Are you -ready? But why that astounded look? Do you want to have things explained -to you? But, my very dearest, it will take hours and hours to explain -everything that's happened to yourself and me. You've turned the head of -an imperial prince . . . and then you were shot . . . and then . . . and -then . . . Oh, what does it all matter? Must I force you to come away -with me?" - -All at once she understood that he was speaking seriously; and, without -taking her eyes from him, she asked: - -"Is it true? Are we free?" - -"Absolutely free." - -"We're going back to France?" - -"Immediately." - -"We have nothing more to fear?" - -"Nothing." - -The tension from which she was suffering suddenly relaxed. She in her -turn began to laugh, yielding to one of those fits of uncontrollable -mirth which find vent in every sort of childish nonsense. She could have -sung, she could have danced for sheer joy. And yet the tears flowed down -her cheeks. And she stammered: - -"Free! . . . it's all over! . . . Have I been through much? . . . Not at -all! . . . Oh, you know that I had been shot? Well, I assure you, it -wasn't so bad as all that. . . . I will tell you about it and lots of -other things. . . . And you must tell me, too. . . . But how did you -manage? You must be cleverer than the cleverest, cleverer than the -unspeakable Conrad, cleverer than the Emperor! Oh, dear, how funny it -is, how funny! . . ." - -She broke off and, seizing him forcibly by the arm, said: - -"Let us go, darling. It's madness to remain another second. These people -are capable of anything. They look upon no promise as binding. They are -scoundrels, criminals. Let's go. . . . Let's go. . . ." - -They went away. - -Their journey was uneventful. In the evening, they reached the lines on -the front, facing Èbrecourt. - -The officer on duty, who had full powers, had a reflector lit and -himself, after ordering a white flag to be displayed, took Élisabeth and -Paul to the French officer who came forward. - -The officer telephoned to the rear. A motor car was sent; and, at nine -o'clock, Paul and Élisabeth pulled up at the gates of Ornequin and Paul -asked to have Bernard sent for. He met him half-way: - -"Is that you, Bernard?" he said. "Listen to me and don't let us waste a -minute. I have brought back Élisabeth. Yes, she's here, in the car. We -are off to Corvigny and you're coming with us. While I go for my bag and -yours, you give instructions to have Prince Conrad closely watched. He's -safe, isn't he?" - -"Yes." - -"Then hurry. I want to get at the woman whom you saw last night as she -was entering the tunnel. Now that she's in France, we'll hunt her down." - -"Don't you think, Paul, that we should be more likely to find her tracks -by ourselves going back into the tunnel and searching the place where it -opens at Corvigny?" - -"We can't afford the time. We have arrived at a phase of the struggle -that demands the utmost haste." - -"But, Paul, the struggle is over, now that Élisabeth is saved." - -"The struggle will never be over as long as that woman lives." - -"Well, but who is she?" - -Paul did not answer. - -At ten o'clock they all three alighted outside the station at Corvigny. -There were no more trains. Everybody was asleep. Paul refused to be put -off, went to the military guard, woke up the adjutant, sent for the -station-master, sent for the booking-clerk and, after a minute inquiry, -succeeded in establishing the fact that on that same Monday morning a -woman supplied with a pass in the name of Mme. Antonin had taken a -ticket for Château-Thierry. She was the only woman traveling alone. She -was wearing a Red Cross uniform. Her description corresponded at all -points with that of the Comtesse Hermine. - -"It's certainly she," said Paul, when they had taken their rooms for the -night at the hotel near the station. "There's no doubt about it. It's -the only way she could go from Corvigny. And it's the way that we shall -go to-morrow morning, at the same time that she did. I hope that she -will not have time to carry out the scheme that has brought her to -France. In any case, this is a great opportunity; and we must make the -most of it." - -"But who is the woman?" Bernard asked again. - -"Who is she? Ask Élisabeth to tell you. We have an hour left in which to -discuss certain details and then we must go to bed. We need rest, all -three of us." - -They started on the Tuesday morning. Paul's confidence was unshaken. -Though he knew nothing of the Comtesse Hermine's intentions, he felt -sure that he was on the right road. And, in fact, they were told several -times that a Red Cross nurse, traveling first-class and alone, had -passed through the same stations on the day before. - -They got out at Château-Thierry late in the afternoon. Paul made his -inquiries. On the previous evening, the nurse had driven away in a Red -Cross motor car which was waiting at the station. This car, according to -the papers carried by the driver, belonged to one of the ambulances -working to the rear of Soissons; but the exact position of the ambulance -was not known. - -This was near enough for Paul, however. Soissons was in the battle line. - -"Let's go to Soissons," he said. - -The order signed by the commander-in-chief which he had on him gave him -full power to requisition a motor car and to enter the fighting zone. -They reached Soissons at dinner-time. - -The outskirts, ruined by the bombardment, were deserted. The town itself -seemed abandoned for the greater part. But as they came nearer to the -center a certain animation prevailed in the streets. Companies of -soldiers passed at a quick pace. Guns and ammunition wagons trotted by. -In the hotel to which they went on the Grande Place, a hotel containing -a number of officers, there was general excitement, with much coming and -going and even a little disorder. - -Paul and Bernard asked the reason. They were told that, for some days -past, we had been successfully attacking the slopes opposite Soissons, -on the other side of the Aisne. Two days before, some battalions of -light infantry and African troops had taken Hill 132 by assault. On the -following day, we held the positions which we had won and carried the -trenches on the Dent de Crouy. Then, in the course of the Monday night -at a time when the enemy was delivering a violent counter-attack, a -curious thing happened. The Aisne, which was swollen as the result of -the heavy rains, overflowed its banks and carried away all the bridges -at Villeneuve and Soissons. - -The rise of the Aisne was natural enough; but, high though the river -was, it did not explain the destruction of the bridges; and this -destruction, coinciding with the German counter-attack and apparently -due to suspect reasons which had not yet been cleared up, had -complicated the position of the French troops by making the dispatch of -reinforcements almost impossible. Our men had held the hill all day, but -with difficulty and with great losses. At this moment, a part of the -artillery was being moved back to the right bank of the Aisne. - -Paul and Bernard did not hesitate in their minds for a second. In all -this they recognized the Comtesse Hermine's handiwork. The destruction -of the bridges, the German attacks, those two incidents which happened -on the very night of her arrival were, beyond a doubt, the outcome of a -plan conceived by her, the execution of which had been prepared for the -time when the rains were bound to swell the river and proved the -collaboration existing between the countess and the enemy's staff. - -Besides, Paul remembered the sentences which she had exchanged with Karl -the spy outside the door of Prince Conrad's villa: - -"I am going to France . . . everything is ready. The weather is in our -favor; and the staff have told me. . . . So I shall be there to-morrow -evening; and it will only need a touch of the thumb. . . ." - -She had given that touch of the thumb. All the bridges had been tampered -with by Karl or by men in his pay and had now broken down. - -"It's she, obviously enough," said Bernard. "And, if it is, why look so -anxious? You ought to be glad, on the contrary, because we are now -positively certain of laying hold of her." - -"Yes, but shall we do so in time? When she spoke to Karl, she uttered -another threat which struck me as much more serious. As I told you, she -said, 'Luck is turning against us. If I succeed, it will be the end of -the run on the black.' And, when the spy asked her if she had the -Emperor's consent, she answered that it was unnecessary and that this -was one of the undertakings which one doesn't talk about. You -understand, Bernard, it's not a question of the German attack or the -destruction of the bridges: that is honest warfare and the Emperor knows -all about it. No, it's a question of something different, which is -intended to coincide with other events and give them their full -significance. The woman can't think that an advance of half a mile or a -mile is an incident capable of ending what she calls the run on the -black. Then what is at the back of it all? I don't know; and that -accounts for my anxiety." - -Paul spent the whole of that evening and the whole of the next day, -Wednesday the 13th, in making prolonged searches in the streets of the -town or along the banks of the Aisne. He had placed himself in -communication with the military authorities. Officers and men took part -in his investigations. They went over several houses and questioned a -number of the inhabitants. - -Bernard offered to go with him; but Paul persisted in refusing: - -"No. It is true, the woman doesn't know you; but she must not see your -sister. I am asking you therefore to stay with Élisabeth, to keep her -from going out and to watch over her without a moment's intermission, -for we have to do with the most terrible enemy imaginable." - -The brother and sister therefore passed the long hours of that day with -their faces glued to the window-panes. Paul came back at intervals to -snatch a meal. He was quivering with hope. - -"She's here," he said. "She must have left those who were with her in -the motor car, dropped her nurse's disguise and is now hiding in some -hole, like a spider behind its web. I can see her, telephone in hand, -giving her orders to a whole band of people, who have taken to earth -like herself and made themselves invisible like her. But I am beginning -to perceive her plan and I have one advantage over her, which is that -she believes herself in safety. She does not know that her accomplice, -Karl, is dead. She does not know of Élisabeth's release. She does not -know of our presence here. I've got her, the loathsome beast, I've got -her." - -The news of the battle, meanwhile, was not improving. The retreating -movement on the left bank continued. At Crouy, the severity of their -losses and the depth of the mud stopped the rush of the Moroccan troops. -A hurriedly-constructed pontoon bridge went drifting down-stream. - -When Paul made his next appearance, at six o'clock in the evening, there -were a few drops of blood on his sleeve. Élisabeth took alarm. - -"It's nothing," he said, with a laugh. "A scratch; I don't know how I -got it." - -"But your hand; look at your hand. You're bleeding!" - -"No, it's not my blood. Don't be frightened. Everything's all right." - -Bernard said: - -"You know the commander-in-chief came to Soissons this morning." - -"Yes, so it seems. All the better. I should like to make him a present -of the spy and her gang. It would be a handsome gift." - -He went away for another hour and then came back and had dinner. - -"You look as though you were sure of things now," said Bernard. - -"One can never be sure of anything. That woman is the very devil." - -"But you know where she's hiding?" - -"Yes." - -"And what are you waiting for?" - -"I'm waiting for nine o'clock. I shall take a rest till then. Wake me up -at a little before nine." - -The guns never ceased booming in the distant darkness. Sometimes a shell -would fall on the town with a great crash. Troops passed in every -direction. Then there would be brief intervals of silence, in which the -sounds of war seemed to hang in suspense; and it was those minutes which -perhaps were most formidable and significant. - -Paul woke of himself. He said to his wife and Bernard: - -"You know, you're coming, too. It will be rough work, Élisabeth, very -rough work. Are you certain that you're equal to it?" - -"Oh, Paul . . . But you yourself are looking so pale." - -"Yes," he said, "it's the excitement. Not because of what is going to -happen. But, in spite of all my precautions, I shall be afraid until the -last moment that the adversary will escape. A single act of -carelessness, a stroke of ill-luck that gives the alarm . . . and I -shall have to begin all over again. . . . Never mind about your -revolver, Bernard." - -"What!" cried Bernard. "Isn't there going to be any fighting in this -expedition of yours?" - -Paul did not reply. According to his custom, he expressed himself during -or after action. Bernard took his revolver. - -The last stroke of nine sounded as they crossed the Grande Place, amid a -darkness stabbed here and there by a thin ray of light issuing from a -closed shop. A group of soldiers were massed in the forecourt of the -cathedral, whose shadowy bulk they felt looming overhead. - -Paul flashed the light from an electric lamp upon them and asked the one -in command: - -"Any news, sergeant?" - -"No, sir. No one has entered the house and no one has gone out." - -The sergeant gave a low whistle. In the middle of the street, two men -emerged from the surrounding gloom and approached the group. - -"Any sound in the house?" - -"No, sergeant." - -"Any light behind the shutters?" - -"No, sergeant." - -Then Paul marched ahead and, while the others, in obedience to his -instructions, followed him without making the least noise, he stepped on -resolutely, like a belated wayfarer making for home. - -They stopped at a narrow-fronted house, the ground-floor of which was -hardly distinguishable in the darkness of the night. Three steps led to -the door. Paul gave four sharp taps and, at the same time, took a key -from his pocket and opened the door. - -He switched on his electric lamp again in the passage and, while his -companions continued as silent as before, turned to a mirror which rose -straight from the flagged floor. He gave four little taps on the mirror -and then pushed it, pressing one side of it. It masked the aperture of a -staircase which led to the basement; and Paul sent the light of his -lantern down the well. - -This appeared to be a signal, the third signal agreed upon, for a voice -from below, a woman's voice, but hoarse and rasping in its tones, asked: - -"Is that you, Daddy Walter?" - -The moment had come to act. Without answering, Paul rushed down the -stairs, taking four steps at a time. He reached the bottom just as a -massive door was closing, almost barring his access to the cellar. - -He gave a strong push and entered. - -The Comtesse Hermine was there, in the semi-darkness, motionless, -hesitating what to do. - -Then suddenly she ran to the other end of the cellar, seized a revolver -on the table, turned round and fired. - -The hammer clicked, but there was no report. - -She repeated the action three times; and the result, was three times the -same. - -"It's no use going on," said Paul, with a laugh. "The charge has been -removed." - -The countess uttered a cry of rage, opened the drawer of the table and, -taking another revolver, pulled the trigger four times, without -producing a sound. - -"You may as well drop it," laughed Paul. "This one has been emptied, -too; and so has the one in the other drawer: so have all the firearms in -the house, for that matter." - -Then, when she stared at him in amazement, without understanding, dazed -by her own helplessness, he bowed and introduced himself, just in two -words, which meant so much: - -"Paul Delroze." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -HOHENZOLLERN - - -The cellar, though smaller, looked like one of those large vaulted -basement halls which prevail in the Champagne district. Walls spotlessly -clean, a smooth floor with brick paths running across it, a warm -atmosphere, a curtained-off recess between two wine vats, chairs, -benches and rugs all went to form not only a comfortable abode, out of -the way of the shells, but also a safe refuge for any one who stood in -fear of indiscreet visits. - -Paul remembered the ruins of the old lighthouse on the bank of the Yser -and the tunnel from Ornequin to Èbrecourt. So the struggle was still -continuing underground: a war of trenches and cellars, a war of spying -and trickery, the same unvarying, stealthy, disgraceful, suspicious, -criminal methods. - -Paul had put out his lantern, and the room was now only dimly lit by an -oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, whose rays, thrown downward by an -opaque shade, cast a white circle in which the two of them stood by -themselves. Élisabeth and Bernard remained in the background, in the -shadow. - -The sergeant and his men had not appeared, but they could be heard at -the foot of the stairs. - -The countess did not move. She was dressed as on the evening of the -supper at Prince Conrad's villa. Her face showed no longer any fear or -alarm, but rather an effort of thought, as though she were trying to -calculate all the consequences of the position now revealed to her. Paul -Delroze? With what object was he attacking her? His intention--and this -was evidently the idea that gradually caused the Comtesse Hermine's -features to relax--his intention no doubt was to procure his wife's -liberty. - -She smiled. Élisabeth a prisoner in Germany: what a trump card for -herself, caught in a trap but still able to command events! - -At a sign from Paul, Bernard stepped forward and Paul said to the -countess: - -"My brother-in-law. Major Hermann, when he lay trussed up in the -ferryman's house, may have seen him, just as he may have seen me. But, -in any case, the Comtesse Hermine--or, to be more exact, the Comtesse -d'Andeville--does not know or at least has forgotten her son, Bernard -d'Andeville." - -She now seemed quite reassured, still wearing the air of one fighting -with equal or even more powerful weapons. She displayed no confusion at -the sight of Bernard, and said, in a careless tone: - -"Bernard d'Andeville is very like his sister Élisabeth, of whom -circumstances have allowed me to see a great deal lately. It is only -three days since she and I were having supper with Prince Conrad. The -prince is very fond of Élisabeth, and he is quite right, for she is -charming . . . and so amiable!" - -Paul and Bernard both made the same movement, which would have ended in -their flinging themselves upon the countess, if they had not succeeded -in restraining their hatred. Paul pushed aside his brother-in-law, of -whose intense anger he was conscious, and replied to his adversary's -challenge in an equally casual tone: - -"Yes, I know all about it; I was there. I was even present at her -departure. Your friend Karl offered me a seat in his car and we went off -to your place at Hildensheim: a very handsome castle, which I should -have liked to see more thoroughly. . . . But it is not a safe house to -stay at; in fact, it is often deadly; and so . . ." - -The countess looked at him with increasing disquiet. What did he mean to -convey? How did he know these things? She resolved to frighten him in -his turn, so as to gain some idea of the enemy's plans, and she said, in -a hard voice: - -"Yes, deadly is the word. The air there is not good for everybody." - -"A poisonous air." - -"Just so." - -"And are you nervous about Élisabeth?" - -"Frankly, yes. The poor thing's health is none of the best, as it is; -and I shall not be easy . . ." - -"Until she's dead, I suppose?" - -She waited a second or two and then retorted, speaking very clearly, so -that Paul might take in the meaning of her words: - -"Yes, until she is dead. . . . And that can't be far off . . . if it has -not happened already." - -There was a pause of some length. Once more, in the presence of that -woman, Paul felt the same craving to commit murder, the same craving to -gratify his hatred. She must be killed. It was his duty to kill her, it -was a crime not to obey that duty. - -Élisabeth was standing three paces back, in the dark. Slowly, without a -word, Paul turned in her direction, pressed the spring of his lantern -and flashed the light full on his wife's face. - -Not for a moment did he suspect the violent effect which his action -would have on the Comtesse Hermine. A woman like her was incapable of -making a mistake, of thinking herself the victim of an hallucination or -the dupe of a resemblance. No, she at once accepted the fact that Paul -had delivered his wife and that Élisabeth was standing in front of her. -But how was so disastrous an event possible? Élisabeth, whom three days -before she had left in Karl's hands; Élisabeth, who at this very moment -ought to be either dead or a prisoner in a German fortress, the access -to which was guarded by more than two million German soldiers: Élisabeth -was here! She had escaped Karl in less than three days! She had fled -from Hildensheim Castle and passed through the lines of those two -million Germans! - -The Comtesse Hermine sat down with distorted features at the table that -served her as a rampart and, in her fury, dug her clenched fists into -her cheeks. She realized the position. The time was past for jesting or -defiance. The time was past for bargaining. In the hideous game which -she was playing, the last chance of victory had suddenly slipped from -her grasp. She must yield before the conqueror; and that conqueror was -Paul Delroze. - -She stammered: - -"What do you propose to do? What is your object? To murder me?" - -He shrugged his shoulders: - -"We are not murderers. You are here to be tried. The penalty which you -will suffer will be the sentence passed upon you after a lawful trial, -in which you will be able to defend yourself." - -A shiver ran through her; and she protested: - -"You have no right to try me; you are not judges." - -At that moment there was a noise on the stairs. A voice cried: - -"Eyes front!" - -And, immediately after, the door, which had remained ajar, was flung -open, admitting three officers in their long cloaks. - -Paul hastened towards them and gave them chairs in that part of the room -which the light did not reach. A fourth arrived, who was also received -by Paul and took a seat to one side, a little farther away. - -Élisabeth and Paul were close together. - -Paul went back to his place in front and, standing beside the table, -said: - -"There are your judges. I am the prosecutor." - -And forthwith, without hesitation, as though he had settled beforehand -all the counts of the indictment which he was about to deliver, speaking -in a tone deliberately free from any trace of anger or hatred, he said: - -"You were born at Hildensheim Castle, of which your grandfather was the -steward. The castle was given to your father after the war of 1870. Your -name is really Hermine: Hermine von Hohenzollern. Your father used to -boast of that name of Hohenzollern, though he had no right to it; but -the extraordinary favor in which he stood with the old Emperor prevented -any one from contesting his claim. He served in the campaign of 1870 as -a colonel and distinguished himself by the most outrageous acts of -cruelty and rapacity. All the treasures that adorn Hildensheim Castle -come from France; and, to complete the brazenness of it, each object -bears a note giving the place from which it came and the name of the -owner from whom it was stolen. In addition, in the hall there is a -marble slab inscribed in letters of gold with the name of all the French -villages burnt by order of His Excellency Colonel Count Hohenzollern. -The Kaiser has often visited the castle. Each time he passes in front -of that marble slab he salutes." - -The countess listened without paying much heed. This story obviously -seemed to her of but indifferent importance. She waited until she -herself came into question. - -Paul continued: - -"You inherited from your father two sentiments which dominate your whole -existence. One of these is an immoderate love for the Hohenzollern -dynasty, with which your father appears to have been connected by the -hazard of an imperial or rather a royal whim. The other is a fierce and -savage hatred for France, which he regretted not to have injured as -deeply as he would have liked. Your love for the dynasty you -concentrated wholly, as soon as you had achieved womanhood, upon the man -who represents it now, so much so that, after entertaining the unlikely -hope of ascending the throne, you forgave him everything, even his -marriage, even his ingratitude, to devote yourself to him body and soul. -Married by him first to an Austrian prince, who died a mysterious death, -and then to a Russian prince, who died an equally mysterious death, you -worked solely for the greatness of your idol. At the time when war was -declared between England and the Transvaal, you were in the Transvaal. -At the time of the Russo-Japanese war, you were in Japan. You were -everywhere: at Vienna, when the Crown Prince Rudolph was assassinated; -at Belgrade when King Alexander and Queen Draga were assassinated. But -I will not linger over the part played by you in diplomatic events. It -is time that I came to your favorite occupation, the work which for the -last twenty years you have carried on against France." - -An expression of wickedness and almost of happiness distorted the -Comtesse Hermine's features. Yes, indeed, that was her favorite -occupation. She had devoted all her strength to it and all her perverse -intelligence. - -"And even so," added Paul, "I shall not linger over the gigantic work of -preparation and espionage which you directed. I have found one of your -accomplices, armed with a dagger bearing your initials, even in a -village of the Nord, in a church-steeple. All that happened was -conceived, organized and carried out by yourself. The proofs which I -collected, your correspondent's letters and your own letters, are -already in the possession of the court. But what I wish to lay special -stress upon is that part of your work which concerns the Château -d'Ornequin. It will not take long: a few facts, linked together by -murders, will be enough." - -There was a further silence. The countess prepared to listen with a sort -of anxious curiosity. Paul went on: - -"It was in 1894 that you suggested to the Emperor the piercing of a -tunnel from Èbrecourt to Corvigny. After the question had been studied -by the engineers, it was seen that this work, this '_kolossal_' work, -was not possible and could not be effective unless possession was first -obtained of the Château d'Ornequin. As it happened, the owner of the -property was in a very bad state of health. It was decided to wait. But, -as he seemed in no hurry to die, you came to Corvigny. A week later, he -died. Murder the first." - -"You lie! You lie!" cried the countess. "You have no proof. I defy you -to produce a proof." - -Paul, without replying, continued: - -"The château was put up for sale and, strange to say, without the least -advertisement, secretly, so to speak. Now what happened was that the man -of business whom you had instructed bungled the matter so badly that the -château was declared sold to the Comte d'Andeville, who took up his -residence there in the following year, with his wife and his two -children. This led to anger and confusion and lastly a resolve to start -work, nevertheless, and to begin boring at the site of a little chapel -which, at that time, stood outside the walls of the park. The Emperor -came often to Èbrecourt. One day, on leaving the chapel, he was met and -recognized by my father and myself. Two minutes later, you were -accosting my father. He was stabbed and killed. I myself received a -wound. Murder the second. A month later, the Comtesse d'Andeville was -seized with a mysterious illness and went down to the south to die." - -"You lie!" cried the countess, again. "Those are all lies! Not a single -proof! . . ." - -"A month later," continued Paul, still speaking very calmly, "M. -d'Andeville, who had lost his wife, took so great a dislike to Ornequin -that he decided never to go back to it. Your plan was carried out at -once. Now that the château was free, it became necessary for you to -obtain a footing there. How was it done? By buying over the keeper, -Jérôme, and his wife. That wretched couple, who certainly had the excuse -that they were not Alsatians, as they pretended to be, but of Luxemburg -birth, accepted the bribe. Thenceforth you were at home, free to come to -Ornequin as and when you pleased. By your orders, Jérôme even went to -the length of keeping the death of the Comtesse Hermine, the real -Comtesse Hermine, a secret. And, as you also were a Comtesse Hermine and -as no one knew Mme. d'Andeville, who had led a secluded life, everything -went off well. Moreover, you continued to multiply your precautions. -There was one, among others, that baffled me. A portrait of the Comtesse -d'Andeville hung in the boudoir which she used to occupy. You had a -portrait painted of yourself, of the same size, so as to fit the frame -inscribed with the name of the countess; and this portrait showed you -under the same outward aspect, wearing the same clothes and ornaments. -In short, you became what you had striven to appear from the outset and -indeed during the lifetime of Mme. d'Andeville, whose dress you were -even then beginning to copy: you became the Comtesse Hermine -d'Andeville, at least during the period of your visits to Ornequin. -There was only one danger, the possibility of M. d'Andeville's -unexpected return. To ward this off with certainty, there was but one -remedy, murder. You therefore managed to become acquainted with M. -d'Andeville, which enabled you to watch his movements and correspond -with him. Only, something happened on which you had not reckoned. I mean -to say that a feeling which was really surprising in a woman like -yourself began gradually to attach you to the man whom you had chosen as -a victim. I have placed among the exhibits a photograph of yourself -which you sent to M. d'Andeville from Berlin. At that time, you were -hoping to induce him to marry you; but he saw through your schemes, drew -back and broke off the friendship." - -The countess had knitted her brows. Her lips were distorted. The -lookers-on divined all the humiliation which she had undergone and all -the bitterness which she had retained in consequence. At the same time, -she felt no shame, but rather an increasing surprise at thus seeing her -life divulged down to the least detail and her murderous past dragged -from the obscurity in which she believed it buried. - -"When war was declared," Paul continued, "your work was ripe. Stationed -in the Èbrecourt villa, at the entrance to the tunnel, you were ready. -My marriage to Élisabeth d'Andeville, my sudden arrival at the château, -my amazement at seeing the portrait of the woman who had killed my -father: all this was told you by Jérôme and took you a little by -surprise. You had hurriedly to lay a trap in which I, in my turn, was -nearly assassinated. But the mobilization rid you of my presence. You -were able to act. Three weeks later, Corvigny was bombarded, Ornequin -taken, Élisabeth a prisoner of Prince Conrad's. . . . That, for you, was -an indescribable period. It meant revenge; and also, thanks to you, it -meant the great victory, the accomplishment--or nearly so--of the great -dream, the apotheosis of the Hohenzollerns! Two days more and Paris -would be captured; two months more and Europe was conquered. The -intoxication of it! I know of words which you uttered at that time and I -have read lines written by you which bear witness to an absolute -madness: the madness of pride, the madness of boundless power, the -madness of cruelty; a barbarous madness, an impossible, superhuman -madness. . . . And then, suddenly, the rude awakening, the battle of the -Marne! Ah, I have seen your letters on this subject, too! And I know no -finer revenge. A woman of your intelligence was bound to see from the -first, as you did see, that it meant the breakdown of every hope and -certainty. You wrote that to the Emperor, yes, you wrote it! I have a -copy of your letter. . . . Meanwhile, defense became necessary. The -French troops were approaching. Through my brother-in-law, Bernard, you -learnt that I was at Corvigny. Would Élisabeth be delivered, Élisabeth -who knew all your secrets? No, she must die. You ordered her to be -executed. Everything was made ready. And, though she was saved, thanks -to Prince Conrad, and though, in default of her death, you had to -content yourself with a mock execution intended to cut short my -inquiries, at least she was carried off like a slave. And you had two -victims for your consolation: Jérôme and Rosalie. Your accomplices, -smitten with tearful remorse by Élisabeth's tortures, tried to escape -with her. You dreaded their evidence against you: they were shot. -Murders the third and fourth. And the next day there were two more, two -soldiers whom you had killed, taking them for Bernard and myself. -Murders the fifth and sixth." - -Thus was the whole drama reconstructed in all its tragic phases and in -accordance with the order of the events and murders. And it was a -horrible thing to look upon this woman, guilty of so many crimes, walled -in by destiny, trapped in this cellar, face to face with her mortal -enemies. And yet how was it that she did not appear to have lost all -hope? For such was the case; and Bernard noticed it. - -"Look at her," he said, going up to Paul. "She has twice already -consulted her watch. Any one would think that she was expecting a -miracle or something more, a direct, inevitable aid which is to arrive -at a definite hour. See, her eyes are glancing about. . . . She is -listening for something. . . ." - -"Order all the soldiers at the foot of the stairs to come in," Paul -answered. "There is no reason why they should not hear what I have -still to say." - -And, turning towards the countess, he said, in tones which gradually -betrayed more feeling: - -"We are coming to the last act. All this part of the contest you -conducted under the aspect of Major Hermann, which made it easier for -you to follow the armies and play your part as chief spy. Hermann, -Hermine. . . . The Major Hermann whom, when necessary, you passed off as -your brother was yourself, Comtesse Hermine. And it was you whose -conversation I overheard with the sham Laschen, or rather Karl the spy, -in the ruins of the lighthouse on the bank of the Yser. And it was you -whom I caught and bound in the attic of the ferryman's house. Ah, what a -fine stroke you missed that day! Your three enemies lay wounded, within -reach of your hand, and you ran away without seeing them, without making -an end of them! And you knew nothing further about us, whereas we knew -all about your plans. An appointment for the 10th of January at -Èbrecourt, that ill-omened appointment which you made with Karl while -telling him of your implacable determination to do away with Élisabeth. -And I was there, punctually, on the 10th of January! I looked on at -Prince Conrad's supper-party! And I was there, after the supper, when -you handed Karl the poison. I was there, on the driver's seat of the -motor-car, when you gave Karl your last instructions. I was everywhere! -And that same evening Karl died. And the next night I kidnaped Prince -Conrad. And the day after, that is to say, two days ago, holding so -important a hostage and thus compelling the Emperor to treat with me, I -dictated conditions of which the first was the immediate release of -Élisabeth. The Emperor gave way. And here you see us!" - -In all this speech, a speech which showed the Comtesse Hermine with what -implacable energy she had been hunted down, there was one word which -overwhelmed her as though it related the most terrible of catastrophes. -She stammered: - -"Dead? You say that Karl is dead?" - -"Shot down by his mistress at the moment when he was trying to kill me," -cried Paul, once again mastered by his hatred. "Shot down like a mad -dog! Yes, Karl the spy is dead; and even after his death he remained the -traitor that he had been all his life. You were asking for my proofs: I -discovered them on Karl's person! It was in his pocket-book that I read -the story of your crimes and found copies of your letters and some of -the originals as well. He foresaw that sooner or later, when your work -was accomplished, you would sacrifice him to secure your own safety; and -he revenged himself in advance. He avenged himself just as Jérôme the -keeper and his wife Rosalie revenged themselves, when about to be shot -by your orders, by revealing to Élisabeth the mysterious part which you -played at the Château d'Ornequin. So much for your accomplices! You kill -them, but they destroy you. It is no longer I who accuse you, it is -they. Your letters and their evidence are in the hands of your judges. -What answer have you to make?" - -Paul was standing almost against her. They were separated at the most by -a corner of the table; and he was threatening her with all his anger and -all his loathing. She retreated towards the wall, under a row of pegs -from which hung skirts and blouses, a whole wardrobe of various -disguises. Though surrounded, caught in a trap, confounded by an -accumulation of proofs, unmasked and helpless, she maintained an -attitude of challenge and defiance. The game did not yet seem lost. She -had some trump cards left in her hand; and she said: - -"I have no answer to make. You speak of a woman who has committed -murders; and I am not that woman. It is not a question of proving that -the Comtesse Hermine is a spy and a murderess: it is a question of -proving that I am the Comtesse Hermine. Who can prove that?" - -"_I_ can!" - -Sitting apart from the three officers whom Paul had mentioned as -constituting the court was a fourth, who had listened as silently and -impassively as they. He stepped forward. The light of the lamp shone on -his face. The countess murmured: - -"Stéphane d'Andeville. . . . Stéphane. . . ." - -It was the father of Élisabeth and Bernard. He was very pale, weakened -by the wounds which he had received and from which he was only beginning -to recover. - -He embraced his children. Bernard expressed his surprise and delight at -seeing him there. - -"Yes," he said, "I had a message from the commander-in-chief and I came -the moment Paul sent for me. Your husband is a fine fellow, Élisabeth. -He told me what had happened when we met a little while ago. And I now -see all that he has done . . . to crush that viper!" - -He had taken up his stand opposite the countess; and his hearers felt -beforehand the full importance of the words which he was about to speak. -For a moment, she lowered her head before him. But soon her eyes once -more flashed defiance; and she said: - -"So you, too, have come to accuse me? What have you to say against me? -Lies, I suppose? Infamies? . . ." - -There was a long pause after those words. Then, speaking slowly, he -said: - -"I come, in the first place, as a witness to give the evidence as to -your identity for which you were asking just now. You introduced -yourself to me long ago by a name which was not your own, a name under -which you succeeded in gaining my confidence. Later, when you tried to -bring about a closer relationship between us, you revealed to me who you -really were, hoping in this way to dazzle me with your titles and your -connections. It is therefore my right and my duty to declare before God -and man that you are really and truly the Countess Hermine von -Hohenzollern. The documents which you showed me were genuine. And it -was just because you were the Countess von Hohenzollern that I broke off -relations which in any case were painful and disagreeable to me, for -reasons which I should have been puzzled to state. That is my evidence." - -"It is infamous evidence!" she cried, in a fury. "Lying evidence, as I -said it would be! Not a proof!" - -"Not a proof?" echoed the Comte d'Andeville, moving closer to her and -shaking with rage. "What about this photograph, signed by yourself, -which you sent me from Berlin? This photograph in which you had the -impudence to dress up like my wife? Yes, you, you! You did this thing! -You thought that, by trying to make your picture resemble that of my -poor loved one, you would rouse in my breast feelings favorable to -yourself! And you did not feel that what you were doing was the worst -insult, the worst outrage that you could offer to the dead! And you -dared, you, you, after what had happened . . ." - -Like Paul Delroze a few minutes before, the count was standing close -against her, threatening her with his hatred. She muttered, in a sort of -embarrassment: - -"Well, why not?" - -He clenched his fists and said: - -"As you say, why not? I did not know at the time what you were . . . and -I knew nothing of the tragedy . . . of the tragedy of the past. . . . It -is only to-day that I have been able to compare the facts. And, whereas -I repulsed you at that time with a purely instinctive repulsion, I -accuse you now with unparalleled execration . . . now when I know, yes, -know, with absolute certainty. Long ago, when my poor wife was dying, -time after time the doctor said to me, 'It's a strange illness. She has -bronchitis and pneumonia, I know; and yet there are things which I don't -understand, symptoms--why conceal it?--symptoms of poisoning.' I used to -protest. The theory seemed impossible! My wife poisoned? And by whom? By -you, Comtesse Hermine, by you! I declare it to-day. By you! I swear it, -as I hope to be saved. Proofs? Why, your whole life bears witness -against you. Listen, there is one point on which Paul Delroze failed to -shed light. He did not understand why, when you murdered his father, you -wore clothes like those of my wife. Why did you? For this hateful reason -that, even at that time, my wife's death was resolved upon and that you -already wished to create in the minds of those who might see you a -confusion between the Comtesse d'Andeville and yourself. The proof is -undeniable. My wife stood in your way: you killed her. You guessed that, -once my wife was dead, I should never come back to Ornequin; and you -killed my wife. Paul Delroze, you have spoken of six murders. This is -the seventh: the murder of the Comtesse d'Andeville." - -The count had raised his two clenched fists and was shaking them in the -Comtesse Hermine's face. He was trembling with rage and seemed on the -point of striking her. She, however, remained impassive. She made no -attempt to deny this latest accusation. It was as though everything had -become indifferent to her, this unexpected charge as well as all those -already leveled at her. She appeared to have no thought of impending -danger or of the need of replying. Her mind was elsewhere. She was -listening to something other than those words, seeing something other -than what was before her eyes; and, as Bernard had remarked, it was as -though she were preoccupied with outside happenings rather than with the -terrible position in which she found herself. - -But why? What was she hoping for? - -A minute elapsed; and another minute. - -Then, somewhere in the cellar, in the upper part of it, there was a -sound, a sort of click. - -The countess drew herself up. And she listened with all her concentrated -attention and with an expression of such eagerness that nobody disturbed -the tremendous silence. Paul Delroze and M. d'Andeville had -instinctively stepped back to the table. And the Comtesse Hermine went -on listening. . . . - -Suddenly, above her head, in the very thickness of the vaulted ceiling, -an electric bell rang . . . only for a few seconds. . . . Four peals of -equal length. . . . And that was all. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE DEATH PENALTY--AND A CAPITAL PUNISHMENT - - -The Comtesse Hermine started up triumphantly; and this movement of hers -was even more dramatic than the inexplicable vibration of that electric -bell. She gave a cry of fierce delight, followed by an outburst of -laughter. The whole expression of her face changed. It denoted no more -anxiety, no more of that tension indicating a groping and bewildered -mind, nothing but insolence, assurance, scorn and intense pride. - -"Fools!" she snarled. "Fools! So you really believed--oh, what -simpletons you Frenchmen are!--that you had me caught like a rat in a -trap? Me! Me! . . ." - -The words rushed forth so volubly, so hurriedly, that her utterance was -impeded. She became rigid, closing her eyes for a moment. Then, -summoning up a great effort of will, she put out her right arm, pushed -aside a chair and uncovered a little mahogany slab with a brass switch, -for which she felt with her hand while her eyes remained turned on Paul, -on the Comte d'Andeville, on his son and on the three officers. And, in -a dry, cutting voice, she rapped out: - -"What have I to fear from you now? You wish to know if I am the Countess -von Hohenzollern? Yes, I am. I don't deny it, I even proclaim the fact. -The actions which you, in your stupid way, call murders, yes, I -committed them all. It was my duty to the Emperor, to the greater -Germany. . . . A spy? Not at all. Simply a German woman. And what a -German woman does for her country is rightly done. So let us have no -more silly phrases, no more babbling about the past. Nothing matters but -the present and the future. And I am once more mistress of the present -and the future both. Thanks to you, I am resuming the direction of -events; and we shall have some amusement. . . . Shall I tell you -something? All that has happened here during the past few days was -prepared by myself. The bridges carried away by the river were sapped at -their foundations by my orders. Why? For the trivial purpose of making -you fall back? No doubt, that was necessary first: we had to announce a -victory. Victory or not, it shall be announced; and it will have its -effect, that I promise you. But I wanted something better; and I have -succeeded." - -She stopped and then, leaning her body towards her hearers, continued, -in a lower voice: - -"The retreat, the disorder among your troops, the need of opposing our -advance and bringing up reinforcements must needs compel your -commander-in-chief to come here and take counsel with his generals. For -months past, I have been lying in wait for him. It was impossible for me -to get within reach of him. So what was I to do? Why, of course, as I -couldn't go to him, I must make him come to me and lure him to a place, -chosen by myself, where I had made all my arrangements. Well, he has -come. My arrangements are made. And I have only to act. . . . I have -only to act! He is here, in a room at the little villa which he occupies -whenever he comes to Soissons. He is there, I know it. I was waiting for -the signal which one of my men was to give me. You have heard the signal -yourselves. So there is no doubt about it. The man whom I want is at -this moment deliberating with his generals in a house which I know and -which I have had mined. He has with him a general commanding an army and -another general, the commander of an army corps. Both are of the ablest. -There are three of them, not to speak of their subordinates. And I have -only to make a movement, understand what I say, a single movement, I -have only to touch this lever to blow them all up, together with the -house in which they are. Am I to make that movement?" - -There was a sharp click. Bernard d'Andeville had cocked his revolver: - -"We must kill the beast!" he cried. - -Paul rushed at him, shouting: - -"Hold your tongue! And don't move a finger!" - -The countess began laughing again; and her laugh was full of wicked -glee: - -"You're right, Paul Delroze, my man. You take in the situation, you do. -However quickly that young booby may fire his bullet at me, I shall -always have time to pull the lever. And that's what you don't want, -isn't it? That's what these other gentlemen and you want to avoid at all -costs . . . even at the cost of my liberty, eh? For that is how the -matter stands, alas! All my fine plan is falling to pieces because I am -in your hands. But I alone am worth as much as your three great -generals, am I not? And I have every right to spare them in order to -save myself. So are we agreed? Their lives against mine! And at once! -. . . Paul Delroze, I give you one minute in which to consult your -friends. If in one minute, speaking in their name and your own, you do -not give me your word of honor that you consider me free and that I -shall receive every facility for crossing the Swiss frontier, then . . . -then heigh-ho, up we go, as the children say! . . . Oh, how I've got -you, all of you! And the humor of it! Hurry up, friend Delroze, your -word! Yes, that's all I ask. Hang it, the word of a French officer! Ha, -ha, ha, ha!" - -Her nervous, scornful laugh went on ringing through the dead silence. -And it happened gradually that its tone rang less surely, like words -that fail to produce the intended effect. It rang false, broke and -suddenly ceased. - -And she stood in dumb amazement: Paul Delroze had not budged, nor had -any of the officers nor any of the soldiers in the room. - -She shook her fist at them: - -"You're to hurry, do you hear? . . . You have one minute, my French -friends, one minute and no more! . . ." - -Not a man moved. - -She counted the seconds in a low voice and announced them aloud by tens. - -At the fortieth second, she stopped, with an anxious look on her face. -Those present were as motionless as before. Then she yielded to a fit of -fury: - -"Why, you must be mad!" she cried. "Don't you understand? Oh, perhaps -you don't believe me? Yes, that's it, they don't believe me! They can't -imagine that it's possible! Possible? Why, it's your own soldiers who -worked for me! Yes, by laying telephone-lines between the post-office -and the villa used for head-quarters! My assistants had only to tap the -wires and the thing was done: the mine-chamber Under the villa was -connected with this cellar. Do you believe me now?" - -Her hoarse, panting voice ceased. Her misgivings, which had become more -and more marked, distorted her features. Why did none of those men move? -Why did they pay no attention to her orders? Had they taken the -incredible resolution to accept whatever happened rather than show her -mercy? - -"Look here," she said, "you understand me, surely? Or else you have all -gone mad! Come, think of it: your generals, the effect which their death -would cause, the tremendous impression of our power which it would give! -. . . And the confusion that would follow! The retreat of your troops! -The disorganization of the staff! . . . Come, come! . . ." - -It seemed as if she was trying to convince them; nay, more, as if she -was beseeching them to look at things from her point of view and to -admit the consequence which she had attributed to her action. For her -plan to succeed, it was essential that they should consent to act -logically. Otherwise . . . otherwise . . . - -Suddenly she seemed to recoil against the humiliating sort of -supplication to which she had been stooping. Resuming her threatening -attitude, she cried: - -"So much the worse for them! So much the worse for them! It will be you -who have condemned them! So you insist upon it? We are quite agreed? -. . . And then I suppose you think you've got me! Come, come now! Even -if you show yourselves pig-headed, the Comtesse Hermine has not said her -last word! You don't know the Comtesse Hermine! The Comtesse Hermine -never surrenders! . . ." - -She was possessed by a sort of frenzy and was horrible to look at. -Twisting and writhing with rage, hideous of face, aged by fully twenty -years, she suggested the picture of a devil burning in the flames of -hell. She cursed. She blasphemed. She gave vent to a string of oaths. -She even laughed, at the thought of the catastrophe which her next -movement would produce. And she spluttered: - -"All right! It's you, it's you who are the executioners! . . . Oh, what -folly! . . . So you will have it so? But they must be mad! Look at them, -calmly sacrificing their generals, their commander-in-chief, in their -stupid obstinacy. Well, so much the worse for them! You have insisted on -it. I hold you responsible. A word from you, a single word. . . ." - -She had a last moment of hesitation. With a fierce and unyielding face -she stared at those stubborn men who seemed to be obeying an implacable -command. Not one of them budged. - -Then it seemed as if, at the moment of taking the fatal decision, she -was overcome with such an outburst of voluptuous wickedness that it made -her forget the horror of her own position. She simply said: - -"May God's will be done and my Emperor gain the victory!" - -Stiffening her body, her eyes staring before her, she touched the switch -with her finger. - -The effect was almost immediate. Through the outer air, through the -vaulted roof, the sound of the explosion reached the cellar. The ground -seemed to shake, as though the vibration had spread through the bowels -of the earth. - -Then came silence. The Comtesse Hermine listened for a few seconds -longer. Her face was radiant with joy. She repeated: - -"So that my Emperor may gain the victory!" - -And suddenly, bringing her arm down to her side, she thrust herself -backwards, among the skirts and blouses against which she was leaning, -and seemed actually to sink into the wall and disappear from sight. - -A heavy door closed with a bang and, almost at the same moment, a shot -rang through the cellar. Bernard had fired at the row of clothes. And he -was rushing towards the hidden door when Paul collared him and held him -where he stood. - -Bernard struggled in Paul's grasp: - -"But she's escaping us! . . . Why can't you let me go after her? . . . -Look here, surely you remember the Èbrecourt tunnel and the system of -electric wires? This is the same thing exactly! And here she is getting -away! . . ." - -He could not understand Paul's conduct. And his sister was as indignant -as himself. Here was the foul creature who had killed their mother, who -had stolen their mother's name and place; and they were allowing her to -escape. - -"Paul," she cried, "Paul, you must go after her, you must make an end of -her! . . . Paul, you can't forget all that she has done!" - -Élisabeth did not forget. She remembered the Château d'Ornequin and -Prince Conrad's villa and the evening when she had been compelled to -toss down a bumper of champagne and the bargain enforced upon her and -all the shame and torture to which she had been put. - -But Paul paid no attention to either the brother or the sister, nor did -the officers and soldiers. All observed the same rigidly impassive -attitude, seemed unaffected by what was happening. - -Two or three minutes passed, during which a few words were exchanged in -whispers, while not a soul stirred. Broken down and shattered with -excitement, Élisabeth wept. Bernard's flesh crept at the sound of his -sister's sobs and he felt as if he was suffering from one of those -nightmares in which we witness the most horrible sights without having -the strength or the power to act. - -And then something happened which everybody except Bernard and Élisabeth -seemed to think quite natural. There was a grating sound behind the row -of clothes. The invisible door moved on its hinges. The clothes parted -and made way for a human form which was flung on the ground like a -bundle. - -Bernard d'Andeville uttered an exclamation of delight. Élisabeth looked -and laughed through her tears. It was the Comtesse Hermine, bound and -gagged. - -Three gendarmes entered after her: - -"We've delivered the goods, sir," one of them jested, with a fat, jolly -chuckle. "We were beginning to get a bit nervous and to wonder if you'd -guessed right and if this was really the way she meant to clear out by. -But, by Jove, sir, the baggage gave us some work to do. A proper -hell-cat! She struggled and bit like a badger. And the way she yelled! -Oh, the vixen!" And, to the soldiers, who were in fits of laughter, -"Mates, this bit of game was just what we wanted to finish off our day's -hunting. It's a grand bag; and Lieutenant Delroze scented the trail -finely. There's a picture for you! A whole gang of Boches in one day! -. . . Look out, sir, what are you doing? Mind the beast's fangs!" - -Paul was stooping over the spy. He loosened her gag, which seemed to be -hurting her. She at once tried to call out, but succeeded only in -uttering stifled and incoherent syllables. Nevertheless, Paul was able -to make out a few words, against which he protested: - -"No," he said, "not even that to console you. The game is lost. And -that's the worst punishment of all, isn't it? To die without having done -the harm you meant to do. And such harm, too!" - -He rose and went up to the group of officers. The three, having -fulfilled their functions as judges, were talking together; and one of -them said to Paul: - -"Well played, Delroze. My best congratulations." - -"Thank you, sir. I would have prevented this attempt to escape. But I -wanted to heap up every possible proof against the woman and not only to -accuse her of the crimes which she has committed, but to show her to you -in the act of committing crime." - -"Ay; and there's nothing half-hearted about the vixen! But for you, -Delroze, the villa would have been blown up with all my staff and myself -into the bargain! . . . But what was the explosion which we heard?" - -"A condemned building, sir, which had already been demolished by the -shells and which the commandant of the fortress wanted to get rid of. We -only had to divert the electric wire which starts from here." - -"So the whole gang is captured?" - -"Yes, sir, thanks to a spy whom I had the luck to lay my hands on just -now and who told me what I had to do in order to get in here. He had -first revealed the Comtesse Hermine's plan in full detail, together with -the names of all his accomplices. It was arranged that the man was to -let the countess know, at ten o'clock this evening, by means of that -electric bell, if you were holding a council in your villa. The notice -was given, but by one of our own soldiers, acting under my orders." - -"Well done; and, once more, thank you, Delroze." - -The general stepped into the circle of light. He was tall and powerfully -built. His upper lip was covered with a thick white mustache. - -There was a movement of surprise among those present. Bernard -d'Andeville and his sister came forward. The soldiers stood to -attention. They had recognized the general commanding-in-chief. With him -were the two generals of whom the countess had spoken. - -The gendarmes had pushed the spy against the wall opposite. They untied -her legs, but had to support her, because her knees were giving way -beneath her. - -And her face expressed unspeakable amazement even more than terror. With -wide-open eyes she stared at the man whom she had meant to kill, the man -whom she believed to be dead and who was alive and who would shortly -pronounce the inevitable sentence of death upon her. - -Paul repeated: - -"To die without having done the harm you intended to do, that is the -really terrible thing, is it not?" - -The commander-in-chief was alive! The hideous and tremendous plot had -failed! He was alive and so were his officers and so was every one of -the spy's enemies. Paul Delroze, Stéphane d'Andeville, Bernard, -Élisabeth, those whom she had pursued with her indefatigable hatred: -they were all there! She was about to die gazing at the vision, so -horrible for her, of her enemies reunited and happy. - -And above all she was about to die with the thought that everything was -lost. Her great dream was shattered to pieces. Her Emperor's throne was -tottering. The very soul of the Hohenzollerns was departing with the -Comtesse Hermine. And all this was plainly visible in her haggard eyes, -from which gleams of madness flashed at intervals. - -The general said to one of those with him: - -"Have you given the order? Are they shooting the lot?" - -"Yes, this evening, sir." - -"Very well, we'll begin with this woman. And at once. Here, where we -are." - -The spy gave a start. With a distortion of all her features she -succeeded in shifting her gag; and they heard her beseeching for mercy -in a torrent of words and moans. - -"Let us go," said the commander-in-chief. - -He felt two burning hands press his own. Élisabeth was leaning towards -him and entreating him with tears. - -Paul introduced his wife. The general said, gently: - -"I see that you feel pity, madame, in spite of all that you have gone -through. But you must have no pity, madame. Of course it is the pity -which we cannot help feeling for those about to die. But we must have no -pity for these people or for members of their race. They have placed -themselves beyond the pale of mankind; and we must never forget it. When -you are a mother, madame, you will teach your children a feeling to -which France was a stranger and which will prove a safeguard in the -future: hatred of the Huns." - -He took her by the arm in a friendly fashion and led her towards the -door: - -"Allow me to see you out. Are you coming, Delroze? You must need rest -after such a day's work." - -They went out. - -The spy was shrieking: - -"Mercy! Mercy!" - -The soldiers were already drawn up in line along the opposite wall. - -The count, Paul and Bernard waited for a moment. She had killed the -Comte d'Andeville's wife. She had killed Bernard's mother and Paul's -father. She had tortured Élisabeth. And, though their minds were -troubled, they felt the great calm which the sense of justice gives. No -hatred stirred them. No thought of vengeance excited them. - -The gendarmes had fastened the spy by the waistband to a nail in the -wall, to hold her up. They now stood aside. - -Paul said to her: - -"One of the soldiers here is a priest. If you need his assistance. -. . ." - -But she did not understand. She did not listen. She merely saw what was -happening and what was about to happen; and she stammered without -ceasing: - -"Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . ." - -They went out. When they came to the top of the staircase, a word of -command reached their ears: - -"Present! . . ." - -Lest he should hear more, Paul slammed the inner and outer hall-doors -behind him. - -Outside was the open air, the good pure air with which men love to fill -their lungs. Troops were marching along, singing as they went. Paul and -Bernard learnt that the battle was over and our positions definitely -assured. Here also the Comtesse Hermine had failed. . . . - - * * * * * - -A few days later, at the Château d'Ornequin, Second Lieutenant Bernard -d'Andeville, accompanied by twelve men, entered the casemate, -well-warmed and well-ventilated, which served as a prison for Prince -Conrad. - -On the table were some bottles and the remains of an ample repast. The -prince lay sleeping on a bed against the wall. Bernard tapped him on the -shoulder: - -"Courage, sir." - -The prisoner sprang up, terrified: - -"Eh? What's that?" - -"I said, courage, sir. The hour has come." - -Pale as death, the prince stammered: - -"Courage? . . . Courage? . . . I don't understand. . . . Oh Lord, oh -Lord, is it possible?" - -"Everything is always possible," said Bernard, "and what has to happen -always happens, especially calamities." And he suggested, "A glass of -rum, sir, to pull you together? A cigarette?" - -"Oh Lord, oh Lord!" the prince repeated, trembling like a leaf. - -Mechanically he took the cigarette offered him. But it fell from his -lips after the first few puffs. - -"Oh Lord, oh Lord!" he never ceased stammering. - -And his distress increased when he saw the twelve men waiting, with -their rifles at rest. He wore the distraught look of the condemned man -who beholds the outline of the guillotine in the pale light of the dawn. -They had to carry him to the terrace, in front of a strip of broken -wall. - -"Sit down, sir," said Bernard. - -Even without this invitation, the wretched man would have been incapable -of standing on his feet. He sank upon a stone. - -The twelve soldiers took up their position facing him. He bent his head -so as not to see; and his whole body jerked like that of a dancing doll -when you pull its strings. - -A moment passed; and Bernard asked, in a kind and friendly tone: - -"Would you rather have it front or back?" - -The prince, utterly overwhelmed, did not reply; and Bernard exclaimed: - -"I'm afraid you're not very well, sir. Come, your royal highness must -pull yourself together. You have lots of time. Lieutenant Delroze won't -be here for another ten minutes. He was very keen on being present at -this--how shall I put it?--at this little ceremony. And really he will -be disappointed in your appearance. You're green in the face, sir." - -Still displaying the greatest interest and as though seeking to divert -the prince's thoughts, he said: - -"What can I tell you, sir, by way of news? You know that your friend -the Comtesse Hermine is dead, I suppose? Ha, ha, that makes you prick up -your ears, I see! It's quite true: that good and great woman was -executed the other day at Soissons. And, upon my word, she cut just as -poor a figure as you are doing now, sir. They had to hold her up. And -the way she yelled and screamed for mercy! There was no pose about her, -no dignity. But I can see that your thoughts are straying. Bother! What -can I do to cheer you up? Ah, I have an idea! . . ." - -He took a little paper-bound book from his pocket: - -"Look here, sir, I'll read to you. Of course, a Bible would be more -appropriate; only I haven't one on me. And the great thing, after all, -is to help you to forget; and I know nothing better for a German who -prides himself on his country and his army than this little book. We'll -dip into it together, shall we? It's called _German Crimes as Related by -German Eye-witnesses_. It consists of extracts from the diaries of your -fellow-countrymen. It is therefore one of those irrefutable documents -which earn the respect of German science. I'll open it at random. Here -goes. 'The inhabitants fled from the village. It was a horrible sight. -All the houses were plastered with blood; and the faces of the dead were -hideous to see. We buried them all at once; there were sixty of them, -including a number of old women, some old men, a woman about to become a -mother, and three children who had pressed themselves against one -another and who died like that. All the survivors were turned out; and -I saw four little boys carrying on two sticks a cradle with a child of -five or six months in it. The whole village was sacked. And I also saw a -mother with two babies and one of them had a great wound in the head and -had lost an eye.'" - -Bernard stopped to address the prince: - -"Interesting reading, is it not, sir?" - -And he went on: - -"'_26 August._ The charming village of Gué d'Hossus, in the Ardennes, -has been burnt to the ground, though quite innocent, as it seems to me. -They tell me that a cyclist fell from his machine and that the fall made -his rifle go off of its own accord, so they fired in his direction. -After that, they simply threw the male inhabitants into the flames.' -Here's another bit: '_25 August._' This was in Belgium. 'We have shot -three hundred of the inhabitants of the town. Those who survived the -volleys were told off to bury the rest. You should have seen the women's -faces!'" - -And the reading continued, interrupted by judicious reflections which -Bernard emitted in a placid voice, as though he were commenting on an -historical work. Prince Conrad, meanwhile, seemed on the verge of -fainting. - -When Paul arrived at the Château d'Ornequin and, alighting from his car, -went to the terrace, the sight of the prince and the careful -stage-setting with the twelve soldiers told him of the rather uncanny -little comedy which Bernard was playing. He uttered a reproachful -protest: - -"I say! Bernard!" - -The young man exclaimed, in an innocent voice: - -"Ah, Paul, so you've come? Quick! His royal highness and I were waiting -for you. We shall be able to finish off this job at last!" - -He went and stood in front of his men at ten paces from the prince: - -"Are you ready, sir? Ah, I see you prefer it front way! . . . Very well, -though I can't say that you're very attractive seen from the front. -However. . . . Oh, but look here, this will never do! Don't bend your -legs like that, I beg of you. Hold yourself up, do! And please look -pleasant. Now then; keep your eyes on my cap. . . . I'm counting: one -. . . two . . . Look pleasant, can't you?" - -He had lowered his head and was holding a pocket camera against his -chest. Presently he squeezed the bulb, the camera clicked and Bernard -exclaimed: - -"There! I've got you! Sir, I don't know how to thank you. You have been -_so_ kind, _so_ patient. The smile was a little forced perhaps, like the -smile of a man on his way to the gallows, and the eyes were like the -eyes of a corpse. Otherwise the expression was quite charming. A -thousand thanks." - -Paul could not help laughing. Prince Conrad had not fully grasped the -joke. However, he felt that the danger was past and he was now trying to -put a good face on things, like a gentleman accustomed to bear any sort -of misfortune with dignified contempt. - -Paul said: - -"You are free, sir. I have an appointment with one of the Emperor's -aides-de-camp on the frontier at three o'clock to-day. He is bringing -twenty French prisoners and I am to hand your royal highness over to him -in exchange. Pray, step into the car." - -Prince Conrad obviously did not grasp a word of what Paul was saying. -The appointment on the frontier, the twenty prisoners and the rest were -just so many phrases which failed to make any impression on his -bewildered brain. But, when he had taken his seat and when the motor-car -drove slowly round the lawn, he saw something that completed his -discomfiture. Élisabeth stood on the grass and made him a smiling -curtsey. - -It was an obvious hallucination. He rubbed his eyes with a flabbergasted -air which so clearly indicated what was in his mind that Bernard said: - -"Make no mistake, sir. It's my sister all right. Yes, Paul Delroze and I -thought we had better go and fetch her in Germany. So we turned up our -Baedeker, asked for an interview with the Emperor and it was His Majesty -himself who, with his usual good grace. . . . Oh, by the way, sir, you -must expect to receive a wigging from the governor! His Majesty is -simply furious with you. Such a scandal, you know! Behaving like a -rotter, you know! You're in for a bad time, sir!" - -The exchange took place at the hour named. The twenty prisoners were -handed over. Paul Delroze took the aide-de-camp aside: - -"Sir," he said, "you will please tell the Emperor that the Comtesse -Hermine von Hohenzollern made an attempt to assassinate the -commander-in-chief. She was arrested by me, tried by court-martial and -sentenced and has been shot by the commander-in-chief's orders. I am in -possession of a certain number of her papers, especially private letters -to which I have no doubt that the Emperor himself attaches the greatest -importance. They will be returned to His Majesty on the day when the -Château d'Ornequin recovers all its furniture, pictures and other -valuables. I wish you good-day, sir." - -It was over. Paul had won all along the line. He had delivered Élisabeth -and revenged his father's death. He had destroyed the head of the German -secret service and, by insisting on the release of the twenty French -prisoners, kept all the promises which he had made to the general -commanding-in-chief. He had every right to be proud of his work. - -On the way back, Bernard asked: - -"So I shocked you just now?" - -"You more than shocked me," said Paul, laughing. "You made me feel -indignant." - -"Indignant! Really? Indignant, quotha! Here's a young bounder who tries -to take your wife from you and who is let off with a few days' solitary -confinement! Here's one of the leaders of those highwaymen who go about -committing murder and pillage; and he goes home free to start pillaging -and murdering again! Why, it's absurd! Just think: all those scoundrels -who wanted war--emperors and princes and emperors' and princes' -wives--know nothing of war but its pomp and its tragic beauty and -absolutely nothing of the agony that falls upon humbler people! They -suffer morally in the dread of the punishment that awaits them, but not -physically, in their flesh and in the flesh of their flesh. The others -die. They go on living. And, when I have this unparalleled opportunity -of getting hold of one of them, when I might take revenge on him and his -confederates and shoot him in cold blood, as they shoot our sisters and -our wives, you think it out of the way that I should put the fear of -death into him for just ten minutes! Why, if I had listened to sound -human and logical justice, I ought to have visited him with some -trifling torture which he would never have forgotten, such as cutting -off one of the ears or the tip of his nose!" - -"You're perfectly right," said Paul. - -"There, you see, you agree with me! I should have cut off the tip of his -nose! What a fool I was not to do it, instead of resting content with -giving him a wretched lesson which he will have forgotten by to-morrow! -What an ass I am! However, my one consolation is that I have taken a -photograph which will constitute a priceless document: the face of a -Hohenzollern in the presence of death. Oh, I ask you, did you see his -face? . . ." - -The car was passing through Ornequin village. It was deserted. The Huns -had burnt down every house and taken away all the inhabitants, driving -them before them like troops of slaves. - -But they saw, seated amid the ruins, a man in rags. He was an old man. -He stared at them foolishly, with a madman's eyes. Beside him a child -was holding forth its arms, poor little arms from which the hands were -gone. . . . - - -THE END - - - - -Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the -original edition have been corrected. - -In the Table of Contents, "Elisabeth's Diary" was changed to -"Élisabeth's Diary". - -In Chapter I, "was standin on the pavement" was changed to "was standing -on the pavement". - -In Chapter II, "The estate surrounded by farms and fields" was changed -to "The estate, surrounded by farms and fields", and "Élisazeth suddenly -gripped her husband's arm" was changed to "Élisabeth suddenly gripped -her husband's arm". - -In Chapter III, a quotation marks were added after "Confess it, you've -made a mistake" and "the wretched, monstrous woman", and "a regular, -montononous, uninterrupted ringing" was changed to "a regular, -monotonous, uninterrupted ringing". - -In Chapter IV, "_That's a queer fellow_, said he colonel" was changed to -"_That's a queer fellow_, said the colonel", and "care of M. -D'Andeville" was changed to "care of M. d'Andeville". - -In Chapter V, "but got no farther" was changed to "but go no farther". - -In Chapter VI, "echoed Paul, is alarm" was changed to "echoed Paul, in -alarm", "ought to be cheerful. . ." was changed to "ought to be -cheerful. . . .", and "rather a serious of explosions" was changed to -"rather a series of explosions". - -In Chapter VII, a missing period was added after "at a man's height". - -In Chapter XIII, a single quote (') was changed to a double quote (") -after "You're sure of holding out, aren't you?", "essential imporance" -was changed to "essential importance", and a quotation mark was added -after "Is it really you? . . ." - -In Chapter XVI, "He'll go with you like a limb" was changed to "He'll go -with you like a lamb". - -In Chapter XVII, a single quote (') was changed to a double quote (") -after "A damnable lie!" - -In Chapter XVIII, "his recest victory over the Emperor" was changed to -"his recent victory over the Emperor", and "I shall take a rest till -them" was changed to "I shall take a rest till then". - -In Chapter XIX, "I have found one of your occomplices" was changed to "I -have found one of your accomplices", a quotation mark was added after -"went down to the south to die", and "telling him of your inplacable -determination" was changed to "telling him of your implacable -determination". - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Woman of Mystery, by Maurice Leblanc - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY *** - -***** This file should be named 34931-8.txt or 34931-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/9/3/34931/ - -Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Woman of Mystery - -Author: Maurice Leblanc - -Illustrator: Albert Matzke - -Release Date: January 13, 2011 [EBook #34931] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY *** - - - - -Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 330px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="330" height="500" alt="cover of The Woman of Mystery" title="" /> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="400" height="561" alt="Unmasked and helpless, she maintained an attitude of -challenge and defiance" title="" /> -</div> -<p class="caption">Unmasked and helpless, she maintained an attitude of -challenge and defiance</p> - -<hr class="wide" /> - -<h1>THE WOMAN OF<br /> -MYSTERY</h1> - -<p class="center">BY<br /> -<span class="bigtext">MAURICE LEBLANC</span></p> - -<p class="center smalltext">AUTHOR OF "CONFESSIONS OF ARSÈNE LUPIN," -"THE TEETH OF THE TIGER," ETC.</p> - -<p class="center">NEW YORK<br /> -THE MACAULAY COMPANY</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1916.<br /> -<span class="smcap">By</span> THE MACAULAY COMPANY</p> - -<hr class="wide" /> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table class="figcenter" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="Table of Contents"> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum smalltext">CHAPTER</td> -<td class="chapname smalltext"> </td> -<td class="chappage smalltext">PAGE</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">I.</td> -<td class="chapname">The Murder</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">9</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">II.</td> -<td class="chapname">The Locked Room</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">23</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">III.</td> -<td class="chapname">The Call to Arms</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">39</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">IV.</td> -<td class="chapname">A Letter from Élisabeth</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">59</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">V.</td> -<td class="chapname">The Peasant-Woman at Corvigny</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">77</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">VI.</td> -<td class="chapname">What Paul Saw at Ornequin</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">94</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">VII.</td> -<td class="chapname">H. E. R. M.</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">108</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">VIII.</td> -<td class="chapname">Élisabeth's Diary</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">126</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">IX.</td> -<td class="chapname">A Sprig of Empire</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">141</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">X.</td> -<td class="chapname">75 or 155?</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">156</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XI.</td> -<td class="chapname">"Ysery, Misery"</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">156</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XII.</td> -<td class="chapname">Major Hermann</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">182</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XIII.</td> -<td class="chapname">The Ferryman's House</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">198</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XIV.</td> -<td class="chapname">A Masterpiece of Kultur</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">220</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XV.</td> -<td class="chapname">Prince Conrad Makes Merry</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">236</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XVI.</td> -<td class="chapname">The Impossible Struggle</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">258</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XVII.</td> -<td class="chapname">The Law of the Conqueror</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">277</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XVIII.</td> -<td class="chapname">Hill 132</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">292</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XIX.</td> -<td class="chapname">Hohenzollern</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">310</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="chapnum">XX.</td> -<td class="chapname">The Death Penalty—and a Capital Punishment</td> -<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">330</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<hr class="wide" /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY</h2> - - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br /> -<span class="smalltext">THE MURDER</span></h2> - - -<p>"Suppose I were to tell you," said Paul Delroze, "that I once stood face -to face with him on French. . . ."</p> - -<p>Élisabeth looked up at him with the fond expression of a bride to whom -the least word of the man she loves is a subject of wonder:</p> - -<p>"You have seen William II. in France?"</p> - -<p>"Saw him with my own eyes; and I have never forgotten a single one of -the details that marked the meeting. And yet it happened very long ago."</p> - -<p>He was speaking with a sudden seriousness, as though the revival of that -memory had awakened the most painful thoughts in his mind.</p> - -<p>"Tell me about it, won't you, Paul?" asked Élisabeth.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I will," he said. "In any case, though I was only a child at the -time, the incident played so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> tragic a part in my life that I am bound -to tell you the whole story."</p> - -<p>The train stopped and they got out at Corvigny, the last station on the -local branch line which, starting from the chief town in the department, -runs through the Liseron Valley and ends, fifteen miles from the -frontier, at the foot of the little Lorraine city which Vauban, as he -tells us in his "Memoirs," surrounded "with the most perfect demilunes -imaginable."</p> - -<p>The railway-station presented an appearance of unusual animation. There -were numbers of soldiers, including many officers. A crowd of -passengers—tradespeople, peasants, workmen and visitors to the -neighboring health-resorts served by Corvigny—stood amid piles of -luggage on the platform, awaiting the departure of the next train for -the junction.</p> - -<p>It was the last Thursday in July, the Thursday before the mobilization -of the French army.</p> - -<p>Élisabeth pressed up against her husband:</p> - -<p>"Oh, Paul," she said, shivering with anxiety, "if only we don't have -war!"</p> - -<p>"War! What an idea!"</p> - -<p>"But look at all these people leaving, all these families running away -from the frontier!"</p> - -<p>"That proves nothing."</p> - -<p>"No, but you saw it in the paper just now. The news is very bad. Germany -is preparing for war. She has planned the whole thing. . . . Oh, Paul, -if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> we were to be separated! . . . I should know nothing about you . . . -and you might be wounded . . . and . . ."</p> - -<p>He squeezed her hand:</p> - -<p>"Don't be afraid, Élisabeth. Nothing of the kind will happen. There -can't be war unless somebody declares it. And who would be fool enough, -criminal enough, to do anything so abominable?"</p> - -<p>"I am not afraid," she said, "and I am sure that I should be very brave -if you had to go. Only . . . only it would be worse for us than for -anybody else. Just think, darling: we were only married this morning!"</p> - -<p>At this reference to their wedding of a few hours ago, containing so -great a promise of deep and lasting joy, her charming face lit up, under -its halo of golden curls, with a smile of utter trustfulness; and she -whispered:</p> - -<p>"Married this morning, Paul! . . . So you can understand that my load of -happiness is not yet very heavy."</p> - -<p>There was a movement among the crowd. Everybody gathered around the -exit. A general officer, accompanied by two aides-de-camp, stepped out -into the station-yard, where a motor-car stood waiting for him. The -strains were heard of a military band; a battalion of light infantry -marched down the road. Next came a team of sixteen horses, driven by -artillery-men and dragging an enormous siege-piece which, in spite of -the weight of its carriage, looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> light, because of the extreme length -of the gun. A herd of bullocks followed.</p> - -<p>Paul, who was unable to find a porter, was standing on the pavement, -carrying the two traveling-bags, when a man in leather gaiters, green -velveteen breeches and a shooting-jacket with horn buttons, came up to -him and raised his cap:</p> - -<p>"M. Paul Delroze?" he said. "I am the keeper at the château."</p> - -<p>He had a powerful, open face, a skin hardened by exposure to the sun and -the cold, hair that was already turning gray and that rather uncouth -manner often displayed by old servants whose place allows them a certain -degree of independence. For seventeen years he had lived on the great -estate of Ornequin, above Corvigny, and managed it for Élisabeth's -father, the Comte d'Andeville.</p> - -<p>"Ah, so you're Jérôme?" cried Paul. "Good! I see you had the Comte -d'Andeville's letter. Have our servants come?"</p> - -<p>"They arrived this morning, sir, the three of them; and they have been -helping my wife and me to tidy up the house and make it ready to receive -the master and the mistress."</p> - -<p>He took off his cap again to Élisabeth, who said:</p> - -<p>"Then you remember me, Jérôme? It is so long since I was here!"</p> - -<p>"Mlle. Élisabeth was four years old then. It was a real sorrow for my -wife and me when we heard that you would not come back to the house -. . . nor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> Monsieur le Comte either, because of his poor dead wife. So -Monsieur le Comte does not mean to pay us a little visit this year?"</p> - -<p>"No, Jérôme, I don't think so. Though it is so many years ago, my father -is still very unhappy."</p> - -<p>Jérôme took the bags and placed them in a fly which he had ordered at -Corvigny. The heavy luggage was to follow in the farm-cart.</p> - -<p>It was a fine day and Paul told them to lower the hood. Then he and his -wife took their seats.</p> - -<p>"It's not a very long drive," said the keeper. "Under ten miles. But -it's up-hill all the way."</p> - -<p>"Is the house more or less fit to live in?" asked Paul.</p> - -<p>"Well, it's not like a house that has been lived in; but you'll see for -yourself, sir. We've done the best we could. My wife is so pleased that -you and the mistress are coming! You'll find her waiting for her at the -foot of the steps. I told her that you would be there between half-past -six and seven. . . ."</p> - -<p>The fly drove off.</p> - -<p>"He seems a decent sort of man," said Paul to Élisabeth, "but he can't -have much opportunity for talking. He's making up for lost time."</p> - -<p>The street climbed the steep slope of the Corvigny hills and -constituted, between two rows of shops, hotels and public buildings, the -main artery of the town, blocked on this day with unaccustomed traffic. -Then it dipped and skirted Vauban's ancient bastions. Next came a -switchback road across a plain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> commanded on the right and left by the -two forts known as the Petit and the Grand Jonas.</p> - -<p>As they drove along this winding road, which meandered through fields of -oats and wheat beneath the leafy vault formed overhead by the -close-ranked poplars, Paul Delroze came back to the episode of his -childhood which he had promised to tell to Élisabeth:</p> - -<p>"As I said, Élisabeth, the incident is connected with a terrible -tragedy, so closely connected that the two form only one episode in my -memory. The tragedy was much talked about at the time; and your father, -who was a friend of my father's, as you know, heard of it through the -newspapers. The reason why he did not mention it to you was that I asked -him not to, because I wanted to be the first to tell you of events . . . -so painful to myself."</p> - -<p>Their hands met and clasped. He knew that every one of his words would -find a ready listener; and, after a brief pause, he continued:</p> - -<p>"My father was one of those men who compel the sympathy and even the -affection of all who know them. He had a generous, enthusiastic, -attractive nature and an unfailing good-humor, took a passionate -interest in any fine cause and any fine spectacle, loved life and -enjoyed it with a sort of precipitate haste. He enlisted in 1870 as a -volunteer, earned his lieutenant's commission on the battlefield and -found the soldier's heroic existence so well suited to his tastes that -he volunteered a second time for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> Tonkin, and a third to take part in -the conquest of Madagascar. . . . On his return from this campaign, in -which he was promoted to captain and received the Legion of Honor, he -married. Six years later he was a widower."</p> - -<p>"You were like me, Paul," said Élisabeth. "You hardly enjoyed the -happiness of knowing your mother."</p> - -<p>"No, for I was only four years old. But my father, who felt my mother's -death most cruelly, bestowed all his affection upon me. He made a point -of personally giving me my early education. He left nothing undone to -perfect my physical training and to make a strong and plucky lad of me. -I loved him with all my heart. To this day I cannot think of him without -genuine emotion. . . . When I was eleven years old, I accompanied him on -a journey through France, which he had put off for years because he -wanted me to take it with him at an age when I could understand its full -meaning. It was a pilgrimage to the identical places and along the roads -where he had fought during the terrible year."</p> - -<p>"Did your father believe in the possibility of another war?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; and he wanted to prepare me for it. 'Paul,' he said, 'I have no -doubt that one day you will be facing the same enemy whom I fought -against. From this moment pay no attention to any fine words of peace -that you may hear, but hate that enemy with all the hatred of which you -are capable. Whatever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> people may say, he is a barbarian, a -vain-glorious, bloodthirsty brute, a beast of prey. He crushed us once -and he will not rest content until he has crushed us again and, this -time, for good. When that day comes, Paul, remember all the journeys -which we have made together. Those which you will take will mark so many -triumphant stages, I am sure of it. But never forget the names of these -places, Paul; never let your joy in victory wipe out their names of -sorrow and humiliation: Froeschwiller, Mars-la-Tour, Saint-Privat and -the rest. Mind, Paul, and remember!' And he then smiled. 'But why should -I trouble? He himself, the enemy, will make it his business to arouse -hatred in the hearts of those who have forgotten and those who have not -seen. Can he change? Not he! You'll see, Paul, you'll see. Nothing that -I can say to you will equal the terrible reality. They are monsters.'"</p> - -<p>Paul Delroze ceased. His wife asked him a little timidly:</p> - -<p>"Do you think your father was absolutely right?"</p> - -<p>"He may have been influenced by cruel recollections that were too recent -in his memory. I have traveled a good deal in Germany, I have even lived -there, and I believe that the state of men's minds has altered. I -confess, therefore, that I sometimes find a difficulty in understanding -my father's words. And yet . . . and yet they very often disturb me. And -then what happened afterwards is so inexplicable."</p> - -<p>The carriage had slackened its pace. The road<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> was rising slowly towards -the hills that overhang the Liseron Valley. The sun was setting in the -direction of Corvigny. They passed a diligence, laden with trunks, and -two motor cars crowded with passengers and luggage. A picket of cavalry -galloped across the fields.</p> - -<p>"Let's get out and walk," said Paul Delroze.</p> - -<p>They followed the carriage on foot; and Paul continued:</p> - -<p>"The rest of what I have to tell you, Élisabeth, stands out in my memory -in very precise details, that seem to emerge as though from a thick fog -in which I cannot see a thing. For instance, I just know that, after -this part of our journey, we were to go from Strasburg to the Black -Forest. Why our plans were changed I cannot tell. . . . I can see myself -one morning in the station at Strasburg, stepping into the train for the -Vosges . . . yes, for the Vosges. . . . My father kept on reading a -letter which he had just received and which seemed to gratify him. The -letter may have affected his arrangements; I don't know. We lunched in -the train. There was a storm brewing, it was very hot and I fell asleep, -so that all I can remember is a little German town where we hired two -bicycles and left our bags in the cloak-room. It's all very vague in my -mind. We rode across the country."</p> - -<p>"But don't you remember what the country was like?"</p> - -<p>"No, all I know is that suddenly my father said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> 'There, Paul, we're -crossing the frontier; we're in France now.' Later on—I can't say how -long after—he stopped to ask his road of a peasant, who showed him a -short-cut through the woods. But the road and the short-cut are nothing -more in my mind than an impenetrable darkness in which my thoughts are -buried. . . . Then, all of a sudden, the darkness is rent and I see, -with astonishing plainness, a glade in the wood, tall trees, velvety -moss and an old chapel. And the rain falls in great, thick drops, and my -father says, 'Let's take shelter, Paul.' Oh, how I remember the sound of -his voice and how exactly I picture the little chapel, with its walls -green with damp! We went and put our bicycles under shelter at the back, -where the roof projected a little way beyond the choir. Just then the -sound of a conversation reached us from the inside and we heard the -grating of a door that opened round the corner. Some one came out and -said, in German, 'There's no one here. Let us make haste.' At that -moment we were coming round the chapel, intending to go in by this side -door; and it so happened that my father, who was leading the way, -suddenly found himself in the presence of the man who had spoken in -German. Both of them stepped back, the stranger apparently very much -annoyed and my father astounded at the unexpected meeting. For a second -or two, perhaps, they stood looking at each other without moving. I -heard my father say, under his breath, 'Is it possible? The Emperor?' -And I myself, surprised as I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> was at the words, had not a doubt of it, -for I had often seen the Kaiser's portrait; the man in front of us was -the German Emperor."</p> - -<p>"The German Emperor?" echoed Élisabeth. "You can't mean that!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the Emperor in France! He quickly lowered his head and turned the -velvet collar of his great, flowing cape right up to the brim of his -hat, which was pulled down over his eyes. He looked towards the chapel. -A lady came out, followed by a man whom I hardly saw, a sort of servant. -The lady was tall, a young woman still, dark and rather good-looking. -. . . The Emperor seized her arm with absolute violence and dragged her -away, uttering angry words which we were unable to hear. They took the -road by which we had come, the road leading to the frontier. The servant -had hurried into the woods and was walking on ahead. 'This really is a -queer adventure,' said my father, laughing. 'What on earth is William -doing here? Taking the risk in broad daylight, too! I wonder if the -chapel possesses some artistic interest. Come and see, Paul.' . . . We -went in. A dim light made its way through a window black with dust and -cobwebs. But this dim light was enough to show us some stunted pillars -and bare walls and not a thing that seemed to deserve the honor of an -imperial visit, as my father put it, adding, 'It's quite clear that -William came here as a tripper, at hazard, and that he is very cross at -having his escapade discovered. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> expect the lady who was with him told -him that he was running no danger. That would account for his irritation -and his reproaches.'"</p> - -<p>Paul broke off again. Élisabeth nestled up against him timidly. -Presently he continued:</p> - -<p>"It's curious, isn't it, Élisabeth, that all these little details, which -really were comparatively unimportant for a boy of my age, should have -been recorded faithfully in my mind, whereas so many other and much more -essential facts have left no trace at all. However, I am telling you all -this just as if I still had it before my eyes and as if the words were -still sounding in my ears. And at this very moment I can see, as plainly -as I saw her at the moment when we left the chapel, the Emperor's -companion coming back and crossing the glade with a hurried step; and I -can hear her say to my father, 'May I ask a favor of you, monsieur?' She -had been running and was out of breath, but did not wait for him to -answer and at once added, 'The gentleman you saw would like to speak to -you.' This was said in perfect French without the least accent. . . . My -father hesitated. But his hesitation seemed to shock her as though it -were an unspeakable offense against the person who had sent her; and she -said, in a harsher tone, 'Surely you do not mean to refuse!' 'Why not?' -said my father, with obvious impatience. 'I am not here to receive -orders.' She restrained herself and said, 'It is not an order, it is a -wish.' 'Very well,' said my father, 'I will agree to the interview. I -will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> wait for your friend here.' She seemed shocked. 'No, no,' she -said, 'you must . . .' 'I must put myself out, must I?' cried my father, -in a loud voice. 'You expect me to cross the frontier to where somebody -is condescending to expect me? I am sorry, madam, but I will not consent -to that. Tell your friend that if he fears an indiscretion on my part he -can set his mind at rest. Come along, Paul.' He took off his hat to the -lady and bowed. But she barred his way: 'No, no,' she said, 'you must do -what I ask. What is a promise of discretion worth? The thing must be -settled one way or the other; and you yourself will admit. . . .' Those -were the last words I heard. She was standing opposite my father in a -violent and hostile attitude. Her face was distorted with an expression -of fierceness that terrified me. Oh, why did I not foresee what was -going to happen? . . . But I was so young! And it all came so quickly! -. . . She walked up to my father and, so to speak, forced him back to -the foot of a large tree, on the right of the chapel. They raised their -voices. She made a threatening gesture. He began to laugh. And suddenly, -immediately, she whipped out a knife—I can see the blade now, flashing -through the darkness—and stabbed him in the chest, twice . . . twice, -there, full in the chest. My father fell to the ground."</p> - -<p>Paul Delroze stopped, pale with the memory of the crime.</p> - -<p>"Oh," faltered Élisabeth, "your father was mur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>dered? . . . My poor -Paul, my poor darling!" And in a voice of anguish she asked, "What -happened next, Paul? Did you cry out?"</p> - -<p>"I shouted, I rushed towards him, but a hand caught me in an -irresistible grip. It was the man, the servant, who had darted out of -the woods and seized me. I saw his knife raised above my head. I felt a -terrible blow on my shoulder. Then I also fell."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br /> -<span class="smalltext">THE LOCKED ROOM</span></h2> - - -<p>The carriage stood waiting for them a little way ahead. They had sat -down by the roadside on reaching the upland at the top of the ascent. -The green, undulating valley of the Liseron opened up before them, with -its little winding river escorted by two white roads which followed its -every turn. Behind them, under the setting sun, some three hundred feet -below, lay the clustering mass of Corvigny. Two miles in front of them -rose the turrets of Ornequin and the ruins of the old castle.</p> - -<p>Terrified by Paul's story, Élisabeth was silent for a time. Then she -said:</p> - -<p>"Oh, Paul, how terrible it all is! Were you very badly hurt?"</p> - -<p>"I can remember nothing until the day when I woke up in a room which I -did not know and saw a nun and an old lady, a cousin of my father's, who -were nursing me. It was the best room of an inn somewhere between -Belfort and the frontier. Twelve days before, at a very early hour in -the morning, the innkeeper had found two bodies, all covered with blood, -which had been laid there during the night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> One of the bodies was quite -cold. It was my poor father's. I was still breathing, but very slightly. -. . . I had a long convalescence, interrupted by relapses and fits of -delirium, in which I tried to make my escape. My old cousin, the only -relation I had left, showed me the most wonderful and devoted kindness. -Two months later she took me home with her. I was very nearly cured of -my wound, but so greatly affected by my father's death and by the -frightful circumstances surrounding it that it was several years before -I recovered my health completely. As to the tragedy itself. . . ."</p> - -<p>"Well?" asked Élisabeth, throwing her arm round her husband's neck, with -an eager movement of protection.</p> - -<p>"Well, they never succeeded in fathoming the mystery. And yet the police -conducted their investigations zealously and scrupulously, trying to -verify the only information which they were able to employ, that which I -gave them. All their efforts failed. You know, my information was very -vague. Apart from what had happened in the glade and in front of the -chapel, I knew nothing. I could not tell them where to find the chapel, -nor where to look for it, nor in what part of the country the tragedy -had occurred."</p> - -<p>"But still you had taken a journey, you and your father, to reach that -part of the country; and it seems to me that, by tracing your road back -to your departure from Strasburg. . . ."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>"Well, of course they did their best to follow up that track; and the -French police, not content with calling in the aid of the German police, -sent their shrewdest detectives to the spot. But this is exactly what -afterwards, when I was of an age to think out things, struck me as so -strange: not a single trace was found of our stay at Strasburg. You -quite understand? Not a trace of any kind. Now, if there was one thing -of which I was absolutely certain, it was that we had spent at least two -days and nights at Strasburg. The magistrate who had the case in hand, -looking upon me as a child and one who had been badly knocked about and -upset, came to the conclusion that my memory must be at fault. But I -knew that this was not so; I knew it then and I know it still."</p> - -<p>"What then, Paul?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I cannot help seeing a connection between the total elimination -of undeniable facts—facts easily checked or reconstructed, such as the -visit of a Frenchman and his son to Strasburg, their railway journey, -the leaving of their luggage in the cloak-room of a town in Alsace, the -hiring of a couple of bicycles—and this main fact, that the Emperor was -directly, yes, directly mixed up in the business."</p> - -<p>"But this connection must have been as obvious to the magistrate's mind -as to yours, Paul."</p> - -<p>"No doubt; but neither the examining magistrate nor any of his -colleagues and the other officials who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> took my evidence was willing to -admit the Emperor's presence in Alsace on that day."</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Because the German newspapers stated that he was in Frankfort at that -very hour."</p> - -<p>"In Frankfort?"</p> - -<p>"Of course, he is stated to be wherever he commands and never at a place -where he does not wish his presence known. At any rate, on this point -also I was accused of being in error and the inquiry was thwarted by an -assemblage of obstacles, impossibilities, lies and alibis which, to my -mind, revealed the continuous and all-powerful action of an unlimited -authority. There is no other explanation. Just think: how can two French -subjects put up at a Strasburg hotel without having their names entered -in the visitors' book? Well, whether because the book was destroyed or a -page torn out, no record whatever of the names was found. So there was -one proof, one clue gone. As for the hotel proprietor and waiters, the -railway booking clerks and porters, the man who owned the bicycles: -these were so many subordinates, so many accomplices, all of whom -received orders to be silent; and not one of them disobeyed."</p> - -<p>"But afterwards, Paul, you must have made your own search?"</p> - -<p>"I should think I did! Four times since I came of age I have been over -the whole frontier from Switzerland to Luxemburg, from Belfort to -Longwy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> questioning the inhabitants, studying the country. I have spent -hours and hours in cudgeling my brains in the vain hope of extracting -the slightest recollection that would have given me a gleam of light. -But all without result. There was not one fresh glimmer amid all that -darkness. Only three pictures showed through the dense fog of the past, -pictures of the place and the things which witnessed the crime: the -trees in the glade, the old chapel and the path leading through the -woods. And then there was the figure of the Emperor and . . . the figure -of the woman who killed my father."</p> - -<p>Paul had lowered his voice. His face was distorted with grief and -loathing.</p> - -<p>"As for her," he went on, "if I live to be a hundred, I shall see her -before my eyes as something standing out in all its details under the -full light of day. The shape of her lips, the expression of her eyes, -the color of her hair, the special character of her walk, the rhythm of -her movements, the outline of her body: all this is recorded within -myself, not as a vision which I summon up at will, but as something that -forms part of my very being. It is as though, during my delirium, all -the mysterious powers of my brain had collaborated to assimilate -entirely those hateful memories. There was a time when all this was a -morbid obsession: nowadays, I suffer only at certain hours, when the -night is coming in and I am alone. My father was murdered; and the woman -who murdered him is alive, unpun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>ished, happy, rich, honored, pursuing -her work of hatred and destruction."</p> - -<p>"Would you know her again if you saw her, Paul?"</p> - -<p>"Would I know her again! I should know her among a thousand. Even if she -were disfigured by age, I should discover in the wrinkles of the old -woman that she had become the face of the younger woman who stabbed my -father to death on that September evening. Know her again! Why, I -noticed the very shade of the dress she wore! It seems incredible, but -there it is. A gray dress, with a black lace scarf over the shoulders; -and here, in the bodice, by way of a brooch, a heavy cameo, set in a -gold snake with ruby eyes. You see, Élisabeth, I have not forgotten and -I never shall forget."</p> - -<p>He ceased. Élisabeth was crying. The past which her husband had revealed -to her was filling her with the same sense of horror and bitterness. He -drew her to him and kissed her on the forehead.</p> - -<p>"You are right not to forget," she said. "The murder will be punished -because it has to be punished. But you must not let your life be subject -to these memories of hatred. There are two of us now and we love each -other. Let us look towards the future."</p> - -<hr class="thin" /> - -<p>The Château d'Ornequin is a handsome sixteenth century building of -simple design, with four peaked turrets, tall windows with denticulated -pinnacles and a light balustrade projecting above the first story.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> The -esplanade is formed by well-kept lawns which surround the courtyard and -lead on the right and left to gardens, woods and orchards. One side of -these lawns ends in a broad terrace overlooking the valley of the -Liseron. On this terrace, in a line with the house, stand the majestic -ruins of a four-square castle-keep.</p> - -<p>The whole wears a very stately air. The estate, surrounded by farms and -fields, demands active and careful working for its maintenance. It is -one of the largest in the department.</p> - -<p>Seventeen years before, at the sale held upon the death of the last -Baron d'Ornequin, Élisabeth's father, the Comte d'Andeville, bought it -at his wife's desire. He had been married for five years and had -resigned his commission in the cavalry in order to devote himself -entirely to the woman he loved. A chance journey brought them to -Ornequin just as the sale, which had hardly been advertised in the local -press, was about to be held. Hermine d'Andeville fell in love with the -house and the domain; and the Count, who was looking for an estate whose -management would occupy his spare time effected the purchase through his -lawyer by private treaty.</p> - -<p>During the winter that followed, he directed from Paris the work of -restoration which was necessitated by the state of disrepair in which -the former owner had left the house. M. d'Andeville wished it to be not -only comfortable but also elegant; and, little by little, he sent down -all the tapestries, pictures, ob<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>jects of art and knicknacks that -adorned his house in Paris.</p> - -<p>They were not able to take up their residence until August. They then -spent a few delightful weeks with their dear Élisabeth, at this time -four years old, and their son, Bernard, a lusty boy to whom the Countess -had given birth that same year. Hermine d'Andeville was devoted to her -children and never went beyond the confines of the park. The Count -looked after his farms and shot over his coverts, accompanied by Jérôme, -his gamekeeper, a worthy Alsatian, who had been in the late owner's -service and who knew every yard of the estate.</p> - -<p>At the end of October, the Countess took cold; the illness that followed -was pretty serious; and the Comte d'Andeville decided to take her and -the children to the south. A fortnight later she had a relapse; and in -three days she was dead.</p> - -<p>The Count experienced the despair which makes a man feel that life is -over and that, whatever happens, he will never again know the sense of -joy nor even an alleviation of any sort. He lived not so much for the -sake of his children as to cherish within himself the cult of her whom -he had lost and to perpetuate a memory which now became the sole reason -of his existence.</p> - -<p>He was unable to return to the Château d'Ornequin, where he had known -too perfect a happiness; on the other hand, he would not have strangers -live there; and he ordered Jérôme to keep the doors and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> shutters closed -and to lock up the Countess' boudoir and bedroom in such a way that no -one could ever enter. Jérôme was also to let the farms and to collect -the tenants' rents.</p> - -<p>This break with the past was not enough to satisfy the Count. It seems -strange in a man who existed only for the sake of his wife's memory, but -everything that reminded him of her—familiar objects, domestic -surroundings, places and landscapes—became a torture to him; and his -very children filled him with a sense of discomfort which he was unable -to overcome. He had an elder sister, a widow, living in the country, at -Chaumont. He placed his daughter Élisabeth and his son Bernard in her -charge and went abroad.</p> - -<p>Aunt Aline was the most devoted and unselfish of women; and under her -care Élisabeth enjoyed a grave, studious and affectionate childhood in -which her heart developed together with her mind and her character. She -received the education almost of a boy, together with a strong moral -discipline. At the age of twenty, she had grown into a tall, capable, -fearless girl, whose face, inclined by nature to be melancholy, -sometimes lit up with the fondest and most innocent of smiles. It was -one of those faces which reveal beforehand the pangs and raptures held -in store by fate. The tears were never far from her eyes, which seemed -as though troubled by the spectacle of life. Her hair, with its bright -curls, lent a certain gaiety to her appearance.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>At each visit that the Comte d'Andeville paid his daughter between his -wanderings he fell more and more under her charm. He took her one winter -to Spain and the next to Italy. It was in this way that she became -acquainted with Paul Delroze at Rome and met him again at Naples and -Syracuse, from which town Paul accompanied the d'Andevilles on a long -excursion through Sicily. The intimacy thus formed attached the two -young people by a bond of which they did not realize the full strength -till the time came for parting.</p> - -<p>Like Élisabeth, Paul had been brought up in the country and, again like -her, by a fond kinswoman who strove, by dint of loving care, to make him -forget the tragedy of his childhood. Though oblivion failed to come, at -any rate she succeeded in continuing his father's work and in making of -Paul a manly and industrious lad, interested in books, life and the -doings of mankind. He went to school and, after performing his military -service, spent two years in Germany, studying some of his favorite -industrial and mechanical subjects on the spot.</p> - -<p>Tall and well set up, with his black hair flung back from his rather -thin face, with its determined chin, he made an impression of strength -and energy.</p> - -<p>His meeting with Élisabeth revealed to him a world of ideas and emotions -which he had hitherto disdained. For him as for her it was a sort of -intoxication mingled with amazement. Love created in them two new souls, -light and free as air, whose ready<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> enthusiasm and expansiveness formed -a sharp contrast with the habits enforced upon them by the strict -tendency of their lives. On his return to France he asked for -Élisabeth's hand in marriage and obtained her consent.</p> - -<p>On the day of the marriage contract, three days before the wedding, the -Comte d'Andeville announced that he would add the Château d'Ornequin to -Élisabeth's dowry. The young couple decided that they would live there -and that Paul should look about in the valleys of the neighboring -manufacturing district for some works which he could buy and manage.</p> - -<p>They were married on Thursday, the 30th of July, at Chaumont. It was a -quiet wedding, because of the rumors of war, though the Comte -d'Andeville, on the strength of information to which he attached great -credit, declared that no war would take place. At the breakfast in which -the two families took part, Paul made the acquaintance of Bernard -d'Andeville, Élisabeth's brother, a schoolboy of barely seventeen, whose -holidays had just begun. Paul took to him, because of his frank bearing -and high spirits; and it was arranged that Bernard should join them in a -few days at Ornequin. At one o'clock Élisabeth and Paul left Chaumont by -train. They were going hand-in-hand to the château where the first years -of their marriage were to be spent and perhaps all that happy and -peaceful future which opens up before the dazzling eyes of lovers.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>It was half-past six o'clock when they saw Jérôme's wife standing at the -foot of the steps. Rosalie was a stout, motherly body with ruddy, -mottled cheeks and a cheerful face.</p> - -<p>Before dining, they took a hurried turn in the garden and went over the -house. Élisabeth could not contain her emotion. Though there were no -memories to excite her, she seemed, nevertheless, to rediscover -something of the mother whom she had known for such a little while, -whose features she could not remember and who had here spent the last -happy days of her life. For her, the shade of the dead woman still trod -those garden paths. The great, green lawns exhaled a special fragrance. -The leaves on the trees rustled in the wind with a whisper which she -seemed already to have heard in that same spot and at the same hour of -the day, with her mother listening beside her.</p> - -<p>"You seem depressed, Élisabeth," said Paul.</p> - -<p>"Not depressed, but unsettled. I feel as though my mother were welcoming -us to this place where she thought she was to live and where we have -come with the same intention. And I somehow feel anxious. It is as -though I were a stranger, an intruder, disturbing the rest and peace of -the house. Only think! My mother has been here all alone for such a -time! My father would never come here; and I was telling myself that we -have no right to come here either, with our indifference for everything -that is not ourselves."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>Paul smiled:</p> - -<p>"Élisabeth, my darling, you are simply feeling that impression of -uneasiness which one always feels on arriving at a new place in the -evening."</p> - -<p>"I don't know," she said. "I daresay you are right. . . . But I can't -shake off the uneasiness; and that is so unlike me. Do you believe in -presentiments, Paul?"</p> - -<p>"No, do you?"</p> - -<p>"No, I don't either," she said, laughing and giving him her lips.</p> - -<p>They were surprised to find that the rooms of the house looked as if -they had been constantly inhabited. By the Count's orders, everything -had remained as it was in the far-off days of Hermine d'Andeville. The -knickknacks were there, in the same places, and every piece of -embroidery, every square of lace, every miniature, all the handsome -eighteenth century chairs, all the Flemish tapestry, all the furniture -which the Count had collected in the old days to add to the beauty of -his house. They were thus entering from the first into a charming and -home-like setting.</p> - -<p>After dinner they returned to the gardens, where they strolled to and -fro in silence, with their arms entwined round each other's waists. From -the terrace they looked down upon the dark valley, with a few lights -gleaming here and there. The old castle-keep raised its massive ruins -against a pale sky, in which a remnant of vague light still lingered.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>"Paul," said Élisabeth, in a low voice, "did you notice, as we went over -the house, a door closed with a great padlock?"</p> - -<p>"In the middle of the chief corridor, near your bedroom, you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. That was my poor mother's boudoir. My father insisted that it -should be locked, as well as the bedroom leading out of it; and Jérôme -put a padlock on the door and sent him the key. No one has set foot in -it since. It is just as my mother left it. All her own things—her -unfinished work, her books—are there. And on the wall facing the door, -between the two windows that have always been kept shut, is her -portrait, which my father had ordered a year before of a great painter -of his acquaintance, a full-length portrait which, I understand, is the -very image of her. Her <i>prie-Dieu</i> is beside it. This morning my father -gave me the key of the boudoir and I promised him that I would kneel -down on the <i>prie-Dieu</i> and say a prayer before the portrait of the -mother whom I hardly knew and whose features I cannot imagine, for I -never even had a photograph of her."</p> - -<p>"Really? How was that?"</p> - -<p>"You see, my father loved my mother so much that, in obedience to a -feeling which he himself was unable to explain, he wished to be alone in -his recollection of her. He wanted his memories to be hidden deep down -in himself, so that nothing would remind him of her except his own will -and his grief. He almost begged my pardon for it this morning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> said -that perhaps he had done me a wrong; and that is why he wants us to go -together, Paul, on this first evening, and pray before the picture of my -poor dead mother."</p> - -<p>"Let us go now, Élisabeth."</p> - -<p>Her hand trembled in her husband's hand as they climbed the stairs to -the first floor. Lamps had been lighted all along the passage. They -stopped in front of a tall, wide door surmounted with gilded carvings.</p> - -<p>"Unfasten the lock, Paul," said Élisabeth.</p> - -<p>Her voice shook as she spoke. She handed him the key. He removed the -padlock and seized the door-handle. But Élisabeth suddenly gripped her -husband's arm:</p> - -<p>"One moment, Paul, one moment! I feel so upset. This is the first time -that I shall look on my mother's face . . . and you, my dearest, are -beside me. . . . I feel as if I were becoming a little girl again."</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said, pressing her hand passionately, "a little girl and a -grown woman in one."</p> - -<p>Comforted by the clasp of his hand, she released hers and whispered:</p> - -<p>"We will go in now, Paul darling."</p> - -<p>He opened the door and returned to the passage to take a lamp from a -bracket on the wall and place it on the table. Meanwhile, Élisabeth had -walked across the room and was standing in front of the picture. Her -mother's face was in the shadow and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> she altered the position of the -lamp so as to throw the full light upon it.</p> - -<p>"How beautiful she is, Paul!"</p> - -<p>He went up to the picture and raised his head. Élisabeth sank to her -knees on the <i>prie-Dieu</i>. But presently, hearing Paul turn round, she -looked up at him and was stupefied by what she saw. He was standing -motionless, livid in the face, his eyes wide open, as though gazing at -the most frightful vision.</p> - -<p>"Paul," she cried, "what's the matter?"</p> - -<p>He began to make for the door, stepping backwards, unable to take his -eyes from the portrait of Hermine d'Andeville. He was staggering like a -drunken man; and his arms beat the air around him.</p> - -<p>"That . . . that . . ." he stammered, hoarsely.</p> - -<p>"Paul," Élisabeth entreated, "what is it? What are you trying to say?"</p> - -<p>"That . . . that is the woman who killed my father!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br /> -<span class="smalltext">THE CALL TO ARMS</span></h2> - - -<p>The hideous accusation was followed by an awful silence. Élisabeth was -now standing in front of her husband, striving to understand his words, -which had not yet acquired their real meaning for her, but which hurt -her as though she had been stabbed to the heart.</p> - -<p>She moved towards him and, with her eyes in his, spoke in a voice so low -that he could hardly hear:</p> - -<p>"You surely can't mean what you said, Paul? The thing is too monstrous!"</p> - -<p>He replied in the same tone:</p> - -<p>"Yes, it is a monstrous thing. I don't believe it myself yet. I refuse -to believe it."</p> - -<p>"Then—it's a mistake, isn't it?—Confess it, you've made a mistake."</p> - -<p>She implored him with all the distress that filled her being, as though -she were hoping to make him yield. He fixed his eyes again on the -accursed portrait, over his wife's shoulder, and shivered from head to -foot:</p> - -<p>"Oh, it is she!" he declared, clenching his fists. "It is she—I -recognize her—it is the woman who killed my——"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>A shock of protest ran through her body; and, beating her breast, she -cried:</p> - -<p>"My mother! My mother a murderess! My mother, whom my father used to -worship and went on worshiping! My mother, who used to hold me on her -knee and kiss me!—I have forgotten everything about her except that, -her kisses and her caresses! And you tell me that she is a murderess!"</p> - -<p>"It is true."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Paul, you must not say anything so horrible! How can you be -positive, such a long time after? You were only a child; and you saw so -little of the woman . . . hardly a few minutes . . ."</p> - -<p>"I saw more of her than it seems humanly possible to see," exclaimed -Paul, loudly. "From the moment of the murder her image never left my -sight. I have tried to shake it off at times, as one tries to shake off -a nightmare; but I could not. And the image is there, hanging on the -wall. As sure as I live, it is there; I know it as I should know your -image after twenty years. It is she . . . why, look, on her breast, that -brooch set in a gold snake! . . . a cameo, as I told you, and the -snake's eyes . . . two rubies! . . . and the black lace scarf around the -shoulders! It's she, I tell you, it's the woman I saw!"</p> - -<p>A growing rage excited him to frenzy; and he shook his fist at the -portrait of Hermine d'Andeville.</p> - -<p>"Hush!" cried Élisabeth, under the torment of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> words. "Hold your -tongue! I won't allow you to . . ."</p> - -<p>She tried to put her hand on his mouth to compel him to silence. But -Paul made a movement of repulsion, as though he were shrinking from his -wife's touch; and the movement was so abrupt and so instinctive that she -fell to the ground sobbing while he, incensed, exasperated by his sorrow -and hatred, impelled by a sort of terrified hallucination that drove him -back to the door, shouted:</p> - -<p>"Look at her! Look at her wicked mouth, her pitiless eyes! She is -thinking of the murder! . . . I see her, I see her! . . . She goes up to -my father . . . she leads him away . . . she raises her arm . . . and -she kills him! . . . Oh, the wretched, monstrous woman! . . ."</p> - -<p>He rushed from the room.</p> - -<hr class="thin" /> - -<p>Paul spent the night in the park, running like a madman wherever the -dark paths led him, or flinging himself, when tired out, on the grass -and weeping, weeping endlessly.</p> - -<p>Paul Delroze had known no suffering save from his memory of the murder, -a chastened suffering which, nevertheless, at certain periods became -acute until it smarted like a fresh wound. This time the pain was so -great and so unexpected that, notwithstanding his usual self-mastery and -his well-balanced mind, he utterly lost his head. His thoughts, his -actions, his attitudes, the words which he yelled into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> the darkness -were those of a man who has parted with his self-control.</p> - -<p>One thought and one alone kept returning to his seething brain, in which -his ideas and impressions whirled like leaves in the wind; one terrible -thought:</p> - -<p>"I know the woman who killed my father; and that woman's daughter is the -woman whom I love."</p> - -<p>Did he still love her? No doubt, he was desperately mourning a happiness -which he knew to be shattered; but did he still love Élisabeth? Could he -love Hermine d'Andeville's daughter?</p> - -<p>When he went indoors at daybreak and passed Élisabeth's room, his heart -beat no faster than before. His hatred of the murderess destroyed all -else that might stir within him: love, affection, longing, or even the -merest human pity.</p> - -<p>The torpor into which he sank for a few hours relaxed his nerves a -little, but did not change his mental attitude. Perhaps, on the -contrary, and without even thinking about it, he was still more -unwilling than before to meet Élisabeth. And yet he wanted to know, to -ascertain, to gather all the essential particulars and to make quite -certain before taking the resolve that would decide the great tragedy of -his life in one way or another.</p> - -<p>Above all, he must question Jérôme and his wife, whose evidence was of -no small value, owing to the fact that they had known the Comtesse -d'Andeville. Certain matters concerning the dates, for instance, might -be cleared up forthwith.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>He found them in their lodge, both of them greatly excited, Jérôme with -a newspaper in his hand and Rosalie making gestures of dismay.</p> - -<p>"It's settled, sir," cried Jérôme. "You can be sure of it: it's coming!"</p> - -<p>"What?" asked Paul.</p> - -<p>"Mobilization, sir, the call to arms. You'll see it does. I saw some -gendarmes, friends of mine, and they told me. The posters are ready."</p> - -<p>Paul remarked, absent-mindedly:</p> - -<p>"The posters are always ready."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but they're going to stick them up at once, you'll see, sir. Just -look at the paper. Those swine—you'll forgive me, sir, but it's the -only word for them—those swine want war. Austria would be willing to -negotiate, but in the meantime the others have been mobilizing for -several days. Proof is, they won't let you cross into their country any -more. And worse: yesterday they destroyed a French railway station, not -far from here, and pulled up the rails. Read it for yourself, sir!"</p> - -<p>Paul skimmed through the stop-press telegrams, but, though he saw that -they were serious, war seemed to him such an unlikely thing that he did -not pay much attention to them.</p> - -<p>"It'll be settled all right," he said. "That's just their way of -talking, with their hand on the sword-hilt; but I can't believe . . ."</p> - -<p>"You're wrong, sir," Rosalie muttered.</p> - -<p>He no longer listened, thinking only of the trag<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>edy of his fate and -casting about for the best means of obtaining the necessary replies from -Jérôme. But he was not able to contain himself any longer and he -broached the subject frankly:</p> - -<p>"I daresay you know, Jérôme, that madame and I have been to the Comtesse -d'Andeville's room."</p> - -<p>The statement produced an extraordinary effect upon the keeper and his -wife, as though it had been a sacrilege to enter that room so long kept -locked, the mistress' room, as they called it among themselves.</p> - -<p>"You don't mean that, sir!" Rosalie blurted out.</p> - -<p>And Jérôme added:</p> - -<p>"No, of course not, for I sent the only key of the padlock, a safety-key -it was, to Monsieur le Comte."</p> - -<p>"He gave it us yesterday morning," said Paul.</p> - -<p>And, without troubling further about their amazement, he proceeded -straightaway to put his questions:</p> - -<p>"There is a portrait of the Comtesse d'Andeville between the two -windows. When was it hung there?"</p> - -<p>Jérôme did not reply at once. He thought for a moment, looked at his -wife, and then said:</p> - -<p>"Why, that's easily answered. It was when Monsieur le Comte sent all his -furniture to the house . . . before they moved in."</p> - -<p>"When was that?"</p> - -<p>Paul's agony was unendurable during the three or four seconds before the -reply.</p> - -<p>"Well?" he asked.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>When the reply came at last it was decisive:</p> - -<p>"Well, it was in the spring of 1898."</p> - -<p>"Eighteen hundred and ninety-eight!"</p> - -<p>Paul repeated the words in a dull voice: 1898 was the year of his -father's murder!</p> - -<p>Without stopping to reflect, with the coolness of an examining -magistrate who does not swerve from the line which he has laid out, he -asked:</p> - -<p>"So the Comte and Comtesse d'Andeville arrived . . ."</p> - -<p>"Monsieur le Comte and Madame le Comtesse arrived at the castle on the -28th of August, 1898, and left for the south on the 24th of October."</p> - -<p>Paul now knew the truth, for his father was murdered on the 19th of -September. And all the circumstances which depended on that truth, which -explained it in its main details or which proceeded from it at once -appeared to him. He remembered that his father was on friendly terms -with the Comte d'Andeville. He said to himself that his father, in the -course of his journey in Alsace, must have learnt that his friend -d'Andeville was living in Lorraine and must have contemplated paying him -a surprise visit. He reckoned up the distance between Ornequin and -Strasburg, a distance which corresponded with the time spent in the -train. And he asked:</p> - -<p>"How far is this from the frontier?"</p> - -<p>"Three miles and three-quarters, sir."</p> - -<p>"On the other side, at no great distance, there's a little German town, -is there not?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>"Yes, sir, Èbrecourt."</p> - -<p>"Is there a short-cut to the frontier?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, for about half-way: a path at the other end of the park."</p> - -<p>"Through the woods?"</p> - -<p>"Through Monsieur le Comte's woods."</p> - -<p>"And in those woods . . ."</p> - -<p>To acquire total, absolute certainty, that certainty which comes not -from an interpretation of the facts but from the facts themselves, which -would stand out visible and palpable, all that he had to do was to put -the last question: in those woods was not there a little chapel in the -middle of a glade? Paul Delroze did not put the question. Perhaps he -thought it too precise, perhaps he feared lest it should induce the -gamekeeper to entertain thoughts and comparisons which the nature of the -conversation was already sufficient to warrant. He merely asked:</p> - -<p>"Was the Comtesse d'Andeville away at all during the six weeks which she -spent at Ornequin? For two or three days, I mean?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, Madame le Comtesse never left the grounds."</p> - -<p>"She kept to the park?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. Monsieur le Comte used to drive almost every afternoon to -Corvigny or in the valley, but Madame la Comtesse never went beyond the -park and the woods."</p> - -<p>Paul knew what he wanted to know. Not caring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> what Jérôme and his wife -might think, he did not trouble to find an excuse for his strange series -of apparently disconnected questions. He left the lodge and walked away.</p> - -<p>Eager though he was to complete his inquiry, he postponed the -investigations which he intended to pursue outside the park. It was as -though he dreaded to face the final proof, which had really become -superfluous after those with which chance had supplied him. He therefore -went back to the château and, at lunch-time, resolved to accept this -inevitable meeting with Élisabeth. But his wife's maid came to him in -the drawing-room and said that her mistress sent her excuses. Madame was -not feeling very well and asked did monsieur mind if she took her lunch -in her own room. He understood that she wished to leave him entirely -free, refusing, on her side, to appeal to him on behalf of a mother whom -she respected and, if necessary, submitting beforehand to whatever -eventual decision her husband might make.</p> - -<p>Lunching by himself under the eyes of the butler and footman waiting at -table, he felt in the utmost depths of his heart that his happiness was -gone and that Élisabeth and he, thanks to circumstances for which -neither of them was responsible, had on the very day of their marriage -become enemies whom no power on earth could bring together. Certainly, -he bore her no hatred and did not reproach her with her mother's crime; -but unconsciously he was angry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> with her, as for a fault, inasmuch as -she was her mother's daughter.</p> - -<p>For two hours after lunch he remained closeted with the portrait in the -boudoir: a tragic interview which he wished to have with the murderess, -so as to fill his eyes with her accursed image and give fresh strength -to his memories. He examined every slightest detail. He studied the -cameo, the swan with unfurled wings which it represented, the chasing of -the gold snake that formed the setting, the position of the rubies and -also the draping of the lace around the shoulders, not to speak of the -shape of the mouth and the color of the hair and the outline of the -face.</p> - -<p>It was undoubtedly the woman whom he had seen that September evening. A -corner of the picture bore the painter's signature; and underneath, on -the frame, was a scroll with the inscription:</p> - -<p class="center">Portrait of the Comtesse H.</p> - -<p>No doubt the portrait had been exhibited with that discreet reference to -the Comtesse Hermine.</p> - -<p>"Now, then," said Paul. "A few minutes more, and the whole past will -come to life again. I have found the criminal; I have now only to find -the place of the crime. If the chapel is there, in the woods, the truth -will be complete."</p> - -<p>He went for the truth resolutely. He feared it less now, because it -could no longer escape his grasp. And yet how his heart beat, with -great, painful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> throbs, and how he loathed the idea of taking the road -leading to that other road along which his father had passed sixteen -years before!</p> - -<p>A vague movement of Jérôme's hand had told him which way to go. He -crossed the park in the direction of the frontier, bearing to his left -and passing a lodge. At the entrance to the woods was a long avenue of -fir-trees down which he went. Four hundred yards farther it branched -into three narrow avenues. Two of these proved to end in impenetrable -thickets. The third led to the top of a mound, from which he descended, -still keeping to his left, by another avenue of fir-trees.</p> - -<p>In selecting this road, Paul realized that it was just this avenue of -firs the appearance of which aroused in him, through some untold -resemblance of shape and arrangement, memories clear enough to guide his -steps. It ran straight ahead for some time and then took a sudden turn -into a cluster of tall beeches whose leafy tops met overhead. Then the -road sloped upwards; and, at the end of the dark tunnel through which he -was walking, Paul perceived the glare of light that points to an open -space.</p> - -<p>The anguish of it all made his knees give way beneath him; and he had to -make an effort to proceed. Was it the glade in which his father had -received his death-blow? The more that luminous space became revealed to -his eyes, the more did he feel penetrated with a profound conviction. As -in the room<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> with the portrait, the past was recovering the very aspect -of the truth in and before him.</p> - -<p>It was the same glade, surrounded by a ring of trees that presented the -same picture and covered with a carpet of grass and moss which the same -paths divided as of old. The same glimpse of sky was above him, outlined -by the capricious masses of foliage. And there, on his left, guarded by -two yew-trees which Paul recognized, was the chapel.</p> - -<p>The chapel! The little old massive chapel, whose lines had etched -themselves like furrows into his brain! Trees grow, become taller, alter -their form. The appearance of a glade is liable to change. Its paths -will sometimes interlock in a different fashion. A man's memory can play -him a trick. But a building of granite and cement is immutable. It takes -centuries to give it the green-gray color that is the mark which time -sets upon the stone; and this bloom of age never alters. The chapel that -stood there, displaying a grimy-paned rose-window in its east front, was -undoubtedly that from which the German Emperor had stepped, followed by -the woman who, ten minutes later, committed the murder.</p> - -<p>Paul walked to the door. He wanted to revisit the place in which his -father had spoken to him for the last time. It was a moment of tense -emotion. The same little roof which had sheltered their bicycles -projected at the back; and the door was the same, with its great rusty -clamps and bars.</p> - -<p>He stood on the single step that led to it, raised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> the latch and pushed -the door. But as he was about to enter, two men, hidden in the shadow on -either side, sprang at him.</p> - -<p>One of them aimed a revolver full in his face. By some miracle, Paul -noticed the gleaming barrel of the weapon just in time to stoop before -the bullet could strike him. A second shot rang out, but he had hustled -the man and now snatched the revolver from his hand, while his other -aggressor threatened him with a dagger. He stepped backwards out of the -chapel, with outstretched arm, and twice pulled the trigger. Each time -there was a click but no shot. The mere fact, however, of his firing at -the two scoundrels terrified them, and they turned tail and made off as -fast as they could.</p> - -<p>Bewildered by the suddenness of the attack, Paul stood for a second -irresolute. Then he fired at the fugitives again, but to no purpose. The -revolver, which was obviously loaded in only two chambers, clicked but -did not go off.</p> - -<p>He then started running after his assailants; and he remembered that -long ago the Emperor and his companion, on leaving the chapel, had taken -the same direction, which was evidently that of the frontier.</p> - -<p>Almost at the same moment the men, seeing themselves pursued, plunged -into the wood and slipped in among the trees; but Paul, who was swifter -of foot, rapidly gained ground on them, all the more so as he had gone -round a hollow filled with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> bracken and brambles into which the others -had ventured.</p> - -<p>Suddenly one of them gave a shrill whistle, probably a warning to some -accomplice. Soon after they disappeared behind a line of extremely dense -bushes. When he had passed through these, Paul saw at a distance of -sixty yards before him a high wall which seemed to shut in the woods on -every side. The men were half-way to it; and he perceived that they were -making straight for a part of the wall containing a small door.</p> - -<p>Paul put on a spurt so as to reach the door before they had time to open -it. The bare ground enabled him to increase his speed, whereas the men, -who were obviously tired, had reduced theirs.</p> - -<p>"I've got them, the ruffians!" he murmured. "I shall at last know . . ."</p> - -<p>A second whistle sounded, followed by a guttural shout. He was now -within twenty yards of them and could hear them speak.</p> - -<p>"I've got them, I've got them!" he repeated, with fierce delight.</p> - -<p>And he made up his mind to strike one of them in the face with the -barrel of his revolver and to spring at the other's throat.</p> - -<p>But, before they even reached the wall, the door was pushed open from -the outside and a third man appeared and let them through.</p> - -<p>Paul flung away the revolver; and his impetus was such and the effort -which he made so great that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> he managed to seize the door and draw it to -him.</p> - -<p>The door gave way. And what he then saw scared him to such a degree that -he started backwards and did not even dream of defending himself against -this fresh attack. The third man—Oh, hideous nightmare! Could it -moreover be anything but a nightmare?—the third ruffian was raising a -knife against him; and Paul knew his face . . . it was a face resembling -the one which he had seen before, a man's face and not a woman's, but -the same sort of face, undoubtedly the same sort: a face marked by -fifteen additional years and by an even harder and more wicked -expression, but the same sort of face, the same sort!</p> - -<p>And the man stabbed Paul, even as the woman of fifteen years ago, even -as she who was since dead had stabbed Paul's father.</p> - -<hr class="thin" /> - -<p>Paul Delroze staggered, but rather as the result of the nervous shock -caused by the sudden appearance of this ghost of the past; for the blade -of the dagger, striking the button on the shoulder-strap of his -shooting-jacket, broke into splinters. Dazed and misty-eyed, he heard -the sound of the door closing, the grating of the key in the lock and -lastly the hum of a motor car starting on the other side of the wall. -When Paul recovered from his torpor there was nothing left for him to -do. The man and his two confederates were out of reach.</p> - -<p>Besides, for the moment he was utterly absorbed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> in the mystery of the -likeness between the figure from the past and that which he had just -seen. He could think of but one thing:</p> - -<p>"The Comtesse d'Andeville is dead; and here she is revived under the -aspect of a man whose face is the very face which she would have to-day. -Is it the face of some relation, of a brother of whom I never heard, a -twin perhaps?"</p> - -<p>And he reflected:</p> - -<p>"After all, am I not mistaken? Am I not the victim of an hallucination, -which would be only natural in the crisis through which I am passing? -How do I know for certain that there is any connection between the -present and the past? I must have a proof."</p> - -<p>The proof was ready to his hand; and it was so strong that Paul was not -able to doubt for much longer. He caught sight of the remains of the -dagger in the grass and picked up the handle. On it four letters were -engraved as with a red-hot iron: an H, an E, an R and an M.</p> - -<p>H, E, R, M; the first four letters of Hermine! . . . At this moment, -while he was staring at the letters which were to him so full of -meaning, at this moment, a moment which Paul was never to forget, the -bell of a church nearby began to ring in the most unusual manner: a -regular, monotonous, uninterrupted ringing, which sounded at once brisk -and unspeakably sinister.</p> - -<p>"The tocsin," he muttered to himself, without at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>taching the full sense -to the word. And he added: "A fire somewhere, I expect."</p> - -<p>A few minutes later Paul had succeeded in climbing over the wall by -means of the projecting branches of a tree. He found a further stretch -of woods, crossed by a forest road. He followed the tracks of a motor -car along this road and reached the frontier within an hour.</p> - -<p>A squad of German constabulary were sitting round the foot of the -frontier post; and he saw a white road with Uhlans trotting along it. At -the end of it was a cluster of red roofs and gardens. Was this the -little town where his father and he had hired their bicycles that day, -the little town of Èbrecourt?</p> - -<p>The melancholy bell never ceased. He noticed that the sound came from -France; also that another bell was ringing somewhere, likewise in -France, and a third from the direction of the Liseron; and all three on -the same hurried note, as though sending forth a wild appeal around -them.</p> - -<p>He repeated, anxiously:</p> - -<p>"The tocsin! . . . The alarm! . . . And it's being passed on from church -to church. . . . Can it mean that . . ."</p> - -<p>But he drove away the terrifying thought. No, his ears were misleading -him; or else it was the echo of a single bell thrown back in the hollow -valleys and ringing over the plains.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile he was gazing at the white road which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> issued from the little -German town, and he observed that a constant stream of horsemen was -arriving there and spreading across-country. Also a detachment of French -dragoons appeared on the ridge of a hill. The officer in command scanned -the horizon through his field-glasses and then trotted off with his men.</p> - -<p>Thereupon, unable to go any farther, Paul walked back to the wall which -he had climbed and found that the wall was prolonged around the whole of -the estate, including the woods and the park. He learnt besides from an -old peasant that it was built some twelve years ago, which explained why -Paul had never found the chapel in the course of his explorations along -the frontier. Once only, he now remembered, some one had told him of a -chapel; but it was one situated inside a private estate; and his -suspicions had not been aroused.</p> - -<p>While thus following the road that skirted the property, he came nearer -to the village of Ornequin, whose church suddenly rose at the end of a -clearing in the wood. The bell, which he had not heard for the last -moment or two, now rang out again with great distinctness. It was the -bell of Ornequin. It was frail, shrill, poignant as a lament and more -solemn than a passing-bell, for all its hurry and lightness.</p> - -<p>Paul walked towards the sound. A charming village, all aflower with -geraniums and Marguerites, stood gathered about its church. Silent -groups were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> studying a white notice posted on the Mayor's office. Paul -stepped forward and read the heading:</p> - -<p class="center">"Mobilization Order."</p> - -<p>At any other period of his life these words would have struck him with -all their gloomy and terrific meaning. But the crisis through which he -was passing was too powerful to allow room for any great emotion within -him. He scarcely even contemplated the unavoidable consequences of the -proclamation. Very well, the country was mobilizing: the mobilization -would begin at midnight. . . . Very well, every one must go; he would -go. . . . And this assumed in his mind the form of so imperative an act, -the proportions of a duty which so completely exceeded every minor -obligation and every petty individual need that he felt, on the -contrary, a sort of relief at thus receiving from the outside the order -that dictated his conduct. There was no hesitation possible. His duty -lay before him: he must go.</p> - -<p>Go? In that case why not go at once? What was the use of returning to -the house, seeing Élisabeth again, seeking a painful and futile -explanation, granting or refusing a forgiveness which his wife did not -ask of him, but which the daughter of Hermine d'Andeville did not -deserve?</p> - -<p>In front of the principal inn a diligence stood waiting, marked, -"Corvigny-Ornequin Railway Service." A few passengers were getting in. -Without giving a further thought to a position which events<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> were -developing in their own way, he climbed into the diligence.</p> - -<p>At the Corvigny railway station he was told that his train would not -leave for half an hour and that it was the last, as the evening train, -which connected with the night express on the main line, was not -running. Paul took his ticket and then asked his way to the jobmaster of -the village. He found that the man owned two motor cars and arranged -with him to have the larger of the two sent at once to the Château -d'Ornequin and placed at Mme. Paul Delroze's disposal.</p> - -<p>And he wrote a short note to his wife:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Élisabeth:</i></p> - -<p>"Circumstances are so serious that I must ask you to -leave Ornequin. The trains have become very uncertain; -and I am sending you a motor car which will take you -to-night to your aunt at Chaumont. I suppose that the -servants will go with you and that, if there should be -war (which seems to me very unlikely, in spite of -everything), Jérôme and Rosalie will shut up the house -and go to Corvigny.</p> - -<p>"As for me, I am joining my regiment. Whatever the -future may hold in store for us, Élisabeth, I shall -never forget the woman who was my bride and who bears -my name.</p> - -<p class="signature">"Paul Delroze."</p></div> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br /> -<span class="smalltext">A LETTER FROM ÉLISABETH</span></h2> - - -<p>It was nine o'clock; there was no holding the position; and the colonel -was furious.</p> - -<p>He had brought his regiment in the middle of the night—it was in the -first month of the war, on the 22nd of August, 1914—to the junction of -those three roads one of which ran from Belgian Luxemburg. The Germans -had taken possession of the lines of the frontier, seven or eight miles -away, on the day before. The general commanding the division had -expressly ordered that they were to hold the enemy in check until -mid-day, that is to say, until the whole division was able to come up -with them. The regiment was supported by a battery of seventy-fives.</p> - -<p>The colonel had drawn up his men in a dip in the ground. The battery was -likewise hidden. And yet, at the first gleams of dawn, both regiment and -battery were located by the enemy and lustily shelled.</p> - -<p>They moved a mile or more to the right. Five minutes later the shells -fell and killed half a dozen men and two officers.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>A fresh move was effected, followed in ten minutes by a fresh attack. -The colonel pursued his tactics. In an hour there were thirty men killed -or wounded. One of the guns was destroyed. And it was only nine o'clock.</p> - -<p>"Damn it all!" cried the colonel. "How can they spot us like this? -There's witchcraft in it."</p> - -<p>He was hiding, with his majors, the captain of artillery and a few -dispatch-riders, behind a bank from above which the eye took in a rather -large stretch of undulating upland. At no great distance, on the left, -was an abandoned village, with some scattered farms in front of it, and -there was not an enemy to be seen in all that deserted extent of -country. There was nothing to show where the hail of shells was coming -from. The seventy-fives had "searched" one or two points with no result. -The firing continued.</p> - -<p>"Three more hours to hold out," growled the colonel. "We shall do it; -but we shall lose a quarter of the regiment."</p> - -<p>At that moment a shell whistled between the officers and the -dispatch-riders and plumped down into the ground. All sprang back, -awaiting the explosion. But one man, a corporal, ran forward, lifted the -shell and examined it.</p> - -<p>"You're mad, corporal!" roared the colonel. "Drop that shell and be -quick about it."</p> - -<p>The corporal replaced the projectile quietly in the hole which it had -made; and then without hur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>rying, went up to the colonel, brought his -heels together and saluted:</p> - -<p>"Excuse me, sir, but I wanted to see by the fuse how far off the enemy's -guns are. It's two miles and fifty yards. That may be worth knowing."</p> - -<p>"By Jove! And suppose it had gone off?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, well, sir, nothing venture, nothing have!"</p> - -<p>"True, but, all the same, it was a bit thick! What's your name?"</p> - -<p>"Paul Delroze, sir, corporal in the third company."</p> - -<p>"Well, Corporal Delroze, I congratulate you on your pluck and I dare say -you'll soon have your sergeant's stripes. Meanwhile, take my advice and -don't do it again. . . ."</p> - -<p>He was interrupted by the sudden bursting of a shrapnel-shell. One of -the dispatch-riders standing near him fell, hit in the chest, and an -officer staggered under the weight of the earth that spattered against -him.</p> - -<p>"Come," said the colonel, when things had restored themselves, "there's -nothing to do but bow before the storm. Take the best shelter you can -find; and let's wait."</p> - -<p>Paul Delroze stepped forward once more.</p> - -<p>"Forgive me, sir, for interfering in what's not my business; but we -might, I think, avoid . . ."</p> - -<p>"Avoid the peppering? Of course, I have only to change our position -again. But, as we should be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> located again at once. . . . There, my lad, -go back to your place."</p> - -<p>Paul insisted:</p> - -<p>"It might be a question, sir, not of changing our position, but of -changing the enemy's fire."</p> - -<p>"Really!" said the colonel, a little sarcastically, but nevertheless -impressed by Paul's coolness. "And do you know a way of doing it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Give me twenty minutes, sir, and by that time the shells will be -falling in another direction."</p> - -<p>The colonel could not help smiling:</p> - -<p>"Capital! You'll make them drop where you please, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"On that beet-field over there, fifteen hundred yards to the right?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>The artillery-captain, who had been listening to the conversation, made -a jest in his turn:</p> - -<p>"While you are about it, corporal, as you have already given me the -distance and I know the direction more or less, couldn't you give it to -me exactly, so that I may lay my guns right and smash the German -batteries?"</p> - -<p>"That will be a longer job, sir, and much more difficult," said Paul. -"Still, I'll try. If you don't mind examining the horizon, at eleven -o'clock precisely, towards the frontier, I'll let off a signal."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>"What sort of signal?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, sir. Three rockets, I expect."</p> - -<p>"But your signal will be no use unless you send it off immediately above -the enemy's position."</p> - -<p>"Just so, sir."</p> - -<p>"And, to do that, you'll have to know it."</p> - -<p>"I shall, sir."</p> - -<p>"And to get there."</p> - -<p>"I shall get there, sir."</p> - -<p>Paul saluted, turned on his heel and, before the officers had time -either to approve or to object, he slipped along the foot of the slope -at a run, plunged on the left down a sort of hollow way, with bristling -edges of brambles, and disappeared from sight.</p> - -<p>"That's a queer fellow," said the colonel. "I wonder what he really -means to do."</p> - -<p>The young soldier's pluck and decision disposed the colonel in his -favor; and, though he felt only a limited confidence in the result of -the enterprise, he could not help looking at his watch, time after time, -during the minutes which he spent with his officers, behind the feeble -rampart of a hay-stack. They were terrible minutes, in which the -commanding officer did not think for a moment of the danger that -threatened himself, but only of the danger of the men in his charge, -whom he looked upon as children.</p> - -<p>He saw them around him, lying at full length on the stubble, with their -knapsacks over their heads, or snugly ensconced in the copses, or -squatting in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> the hollows in the ground. The iron hurricane increased in -violence. It came rushing down like a furious hail bent upon hastily -completing its work of destruction. Men suddenly leapt to their feet, -spun on their heels and fell motionless, amid the yells of the wounded, -the shouts of the soldiers exchanging remarks and even jokes and, over -everything, the incessant thunder of the bursting bomb-shells.</p> - -<p>And then, suddenly, silence! Total, definite silence, an infinite lull -in the air and on the ground, giving a sort of ineffable relief!</p> - -<p>The colonel expressed his delight by bursting into a laugh:</p> - -<p>"By Jupiter, Corporal Delroze knows his way about! The crowning -achievement would be for the beet-field to be shelled, as he promised."</p> - -<p>He had not finished speaking when a shell exploded fifteen hundred yards -to the right, not in the beet-field, but a little in front of it. The -second went too far. The third found the spot. And the bombardment began -with a will.</p> - -<p>There was something about the performance of the task which the corporal -had set himself that was at once so astounding and so mathematically -accurate that the colonel and his officers had hardly a doubt that he -would carry it out to the end and that, notwithstanding the -insurmountable obstacles, he would succeed in giving the signal agreed -upon.</p> - -<p>They never ceased sweeping the horizon with their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> field-glasses, while -the enemy redoubled his efforts against the beet-field.</p> - -<p>At five minutes past eleven, a red rocket went up. It appeared a good -deal farther to the right than they would have suspected. And it was -followed by two others.</p> - -<p>Through his telescope the artillery-captain soon discovered a -church-steeple that just showed above a valley which was itself -invisible among the rise and fall of the plateau; and the spire of the -steeple protruded so very little that it might well have been taken for -a tree standing by itself. A rapid glance at the map showed that it was -the village of Brumoy.</p> - -<p>Knowing, from the shell examined by the corporal, the exact distance of -the German batteries, the captain telephoned his instructions to his -lieutenant. Half an hour later the German batteries were silenced; and -as a fourth rocket had gone up the seventy-fives continued to bombard -the church as well as the village and its immediate neighborhood.</p> - -<p>At a little before twelve, the regiment was joined by a cyclists company -riding ahead of the division. The order was given to advance at all -costs.</p> - -<p>The regiment advanced, encountering no resistance, as it approached -Brumoy, except a few rifle shots. The enemy's rearguard was falling -back.</p> - -<p>The village was in ruins, with some of its houses still burning, and -displayed a most incredible disorder of corpses, of wounded men, of dead -horses, demolished guns and battered caissons and baggage-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>wagons. A -whole brigade had been surprised at the moment, when, feeling certain -that it had cleared the ground, it was about to march to the attack.</p> - -<p>But a shout came from the top of the church, the front and nave of which -had fallen in and presented an appearance of indescribable chaos. Only -the tower, perforated by gun-fire and blackened by the smoke from some -burning joists, still remained standing, bearing by some miracle of -equilibrium, the slender stone spire with which it was crowned. With his -body leaning out of this spire was a peasant, waving his arms and -shouting to attract attention.</p> - -<p>The officers recognized Paul Delroze.</p> - -<p>Picking their way through the rubbish, our men climbed the staircase -that led to the platform of the tower. Here, heaped up against the -little door admitting to the spire, were the bodies of eight Germans; -and the door, which was demolished and had dropped crosswise, barred the -entrance in such a way that it had to be chopped to pieces before Paul -could be released.</p> - -<p>Toward the end of the afternoon, when it was manifest that the obstacles -to the pursuit of the enemy were too serious to be overcome, the colonel -embraced Corporal Delroze in front of the regiment mustered in the -square.</p> - -<p>"Let's speak of your reward first," he said. "I shall recommend you for -the military medal; and you will be sure to get it. And now, my lad, -tell your story."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>And Paul stood answering questions in the middle of the circle formed -around him by the officers and the non-commissioned officers of each -company.</p> - -<p>"Why, it's very simple, sir," he said. "We were being spied upon."</p> - -<p>"Obviously; but who was the spy and where was he?"</p> - -<p>"I learnt that by accident. Beside the position which we occupied this -morning, there was a village, was there not, with a church?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but I had the village evacuated when I arrived; and there was no -one in the church."</p> - -<p>"If there was no one in the church, sir, why did the weather-vane point -the wind coming from the east, when it was blowing from the west? And -why, when we changed our position, was the vane pointed in our -direction?"</p> - -<p>"Are you sure of that?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. And that was why, after obtaining your leave, I did not -hesitate to slip into the church and to enter the steeple as stealthily -as I could. I was not mistaken. There was a man there whom I managed to -overmaster, not without difficulty."</p> - -<p>"The scoundrel! A Frenchman?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, a German dressed up as a peasant."</p> - -<p>"He shall be shot."</p> - -<p>"No, sir, please. I promised him his life."</p> - -<p>"Never!"</p> - -<p>"Well, you see, sir, I had to find out how he was keeping the enemy -informed."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, it was simple enough! The church has a clock, facing the north, of -which we could not see the dial, where we were. From the inside, our -friend worked the hands so that the big hand, resting by turns on three -or four figures, announced the exact distance at which we were from the -church, in the direction pointed by the vane. This is what I next did -myself; and the enemy at once, redirecting his fire by my indications, -began conscientiously to shell the beet-field."</p> - -<p>"He did," said the colonel, laughing.</p> - -<p>"All that remained for me to do was to move on to the other -observation-post, where the spy's messages were received. There I would -learn the essential details which the spy himself did not know; I mean, -where the enemy's batteries were hidden. I therefore ran to this place; -and it was only on arriving here that I saw those batteries and a whole -German brigade posted at the very foot of the church which did the duty -of signaling-station."</p> - -<p>"But that was a mad piece of recklessness! Didn't they fire on you?"</p> - -<p>"I had put on the spy's clothes, sir, <i>their</i> spy's. I can speak German, -I knew the pass-word and only one of them knew the spy and that was the -officer on observation-duty. Without the least suspicion, the general -commanding the brigade sent me to him as soon as I told him that the -French had discovered me and that I had managed to escape them."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>"And you had the cheek . . . ?"</p> - -<p>"I had to, sir; and besides I held all the trump cards. The officer -suspected nothing; and, when I reached the platform from which he was -sending his signals, I had no difficulty in attacking him and reducing -him to silence. My business was done and I had only to give you the -signals agreed upon."</p> - -<p>"Only that! In the midst of six or seven thousand men!"</p> - -<p>"I had promised you, sir, and it was eleven o'clock. The platform had on -it all the apparatus required for sending day or night signals. Why -shouldn't I use it? I lit a rocket, followed by a second and a third and -then a fourth; and the battle commenced."</p> - -<p>"But those rockets were indications to draw our fire upon the very -steeple where you were! It was you we were firing on!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I assure you, sir, one doesn't think of those things at such -moments! I welcomed the first shell that struck the church. And then the -enemy left me hardly any time for reflection. Half-a-dozen fellows at -once came climbing the tower. I accounted for some of them with my -revolver; but a second assault came and, later on, still another. I had -to take refuge behind the door that closes the spire. When they had -broken it down, it served me as a barricade; and, as I had the arms and -ammunition which I had taken from my first assailants and was -inaccessible and very nearly invisible, I found it easy to sustain a -regular siege."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>"While our seventy-fives were blazing away at you."</p> - -<p>"While our seventy-fives were releasing me, sir; for you can understand -that, once the church was destroyed and the nave in flames, no one dared -to venture up the tower. I had nothing to do, therefore, but wait -patiently for your arrival."</p> - -<p>Paul Delroze had told his story in the simplest way and as though it -concerned perfectly natural things. The colonel, after congratulating -him again, confirmed his promotion to the rank of sergeant and said:</p> - -<p>"Have you nothing to ask me?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, I should like to put a few more questions to the German spy -whom I left behind me and, at the same time, to get back my uniform, -which I hid."</p> - -<p>"Very well, you shall dine here and we'll give you a bicycle -afterwards."</p> - -<p>Paul was back at the first church by seven o'clock in the evening. A -great disappointment awaited him. The spy had broken his bonds and fled.</p> - -<p>All Paul's searching, in the church and village, was useless. -Nevertheless, on one of the steps of the staircase, near the place where -he had flung himself upon the spy, he picked up the dagger with which -his adversary had tried to strike him. It was exactly similar to the -dagger which he had picked up in the grass, three weeks before, outside -the little gate in the Ornequin woods. It had the same three-cornered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> -blade, the same brown horn handle and, on the handle, the same four -letters: H, E, R, M.</p> - -<p>The spy and the woman who bore so strange a resemblance to Hermine -d'Andeville, his father's murderess, both made use of an identical -weapon.</p> - -<hr class="thin" /> - -<p>Next day, the division to which Paul's regiment belonged continued the -offensive and entered Belgium after repulsing the enemy. But in the -evening the general received orders to fall back.</p> - -<p>The retreat began. Painful as it was to one and all, it was doubly so -perhaps to those of our troops which had been victorious at the start. -Paul and his comrades in the third company could not contain themselves -for rage and disappointment. During the half a day which they spent in -Belgium, they saw the ruins of a little town that had been destroyed by -the Germans, the bodies of eighty women who had been shot, old men hung -up by their feet, stacks of murdered children. And they had to retire -before those monsters!</p> - -<p>Some of the Belgian soldiers had attached themselves to the regiment; -and, with faces that still bore traces of horror at the infernal visions -which they had beheld, these men told of things beyond the conception of -the most vivid imagination. And our fellows had to retire. They had to -retire with hatred in their hearts and a mad desire for vengeance that -made their hands close fiercely on their rifles.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>And why retire? It was not a question of being defeated, because they -were falling back in good order, making sudden halts and delivering -violent counter-attacks upon the disconcerted enemy. But his numbers -overpowered all resistance. The wave of barbarians reformed itself. The -place of each thousand dead was taken by two thousand of the living. And -our men retired.</p> - -<p>One evening, Paul learnt one of the reasons for this retreat from a -week-old newspaper; and he was painfully affected by the news. On the -20th of August, Corvigny had been taken by assault, after some hours of -bombardment effected under the most inexplicable conditions, whereas the -stronghold was believed to be capable of holding out for at least some -days, which would have strengthened our operations against the left -flank of the Germans.</p> - -<p>So Corvigny had fallen; and the Château d'Ornequin, doubtless abandoned, -as Paul himself hoped, by Jérôme and Rosalie, was now destroyed, -pillaged and sacked with the methodical thoroughness which the Huns -applied to their work of devastation. On this side, too, the furious -horde were crowding precipitately.</p> - -<p>Those were sinister days, at the end of August, the most tragic days -perhaps that France has ever passed through. Paris was threatened, a -dozen departments were invaded. Death's icy breath hung over our gallant -nation.</p> - -<p>It was on the morning of one of these days that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> Paul heard a cheerful -voice calling to him from a group of young soldiers behind him:</p> - -<p>"Paul, Paul! I've got my way at last! Isn't it a stroke of luck?"</p> - -<p>Those young soldiers were lads who had enlisted voluntarily and been -drafted into the regiment; and Paul at once recognized Élisabeth's -brother, Bernard d'Andeville. He had no time to think of the attitude -which he had best take up. His first impulse would have been to turn -away; but Bernard had seized his two hands and was pressing them with an -affectionate kindness which showed that the boy knew nothing as yet of -the breach between Paul and his wife.</p> - -<p>"Yes, it's myself, old chap," he declared gaily. "I may call you old -chap, mayn't I? It's myself and it takes your breath away, what? You're -thinking of a providential meeting, the sort of coincidence one never -sees: two brothers-in-law dropping into the same regiment. Well, it's -not that: it happened at my express request. I said to the authorities, -'I'm enlisting by way of a duty and pleasure combined,' or words to that -effect. 'But, as a crack athlete and a prize-winner in every gymnastic -and drill-club I ever joined, I want to be sent to the front straight -away and into the same regiment as my brother-in-law, Corporal Paul -Delroze.' And, as they couldn't do without my services, they packed me -off here. . . . Well? You don't look particularly delighted . . . ?"</p> - -<p>Paul was hardly listening. He said to himself:</p> - -<p>"This is the son of Hermine d'Andeville. The boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> who is now touching me -is the son of the woman who killed . . ."</p> - -<p>But Bernard's face expressed such candor and such open-hearted pleasure -at seeing him that he said:</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am. Only you're so young!"</p> - -<p>"I? I'm quite ancient. Seventeen the day I enlisted."</p> - -<p>"But what did your father say?"</p> - -<p>"Dad gave me leave. But for that, of course, I shouldn't have given him -leave."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Why, he's enlisted, too."</p> - -<p>"At his age?"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense, he's quite juvenile. Fifty the day he enlisted! They found -him a job as interpreter with the British staff. All the family under -arms, you see. . . . Oh, I was forgetting, I've a letter for you from -Élisabeth!"</p> - -<p>Paul started. He had deliberately refrained from asking after his wife. -He now said, as he took the letter:</p> - -<p>"So she gave you this . . . ?"</p> - -<p>"No, she sent it to us from Ornequin."</p> - -<p>"From Ornequin? How can she have done that? Élisabeth left Ornequin on -the day of mobilization, in the evening. She was going to Chaumont, to -her aunt's."</p> - -<p>"Not at all. I went and said good-bye to our aunt: she hadn't heard from -Élisabeth since the be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>ginning of the war. Besides, look at the -envelope: 'M. Paul Delroze, care of M. d'Andeville, Paris, etc.' And -it's post-marked Ornequin and Corvigny."</p> - -<p>Paul looked and stammered:</p> - -<p>"Yes, you're right; and I can read the date on the post-mark: 18 August. -The 18th of August . . . and Corvigny fell into the hands of the Germans -two days later, on the 20th. So Élisabeth was still there."</p> - -<p>"No, no," cried Bernard, "Élisabeth isn't a child! You surely don't -think she would have waited for the Huns, so close to the frontier! She -would have left the château at the first sound of firing. And that's -what she's telling you, I expect. Why don't you read her letter, Paul?"</p> - -<p>Paul, on his side, had no idea of what he was about to learn on reading -the letter; and he opened the envelope with a shudder.</p> - -<p>What Élisabeth wrote was:</p> - - -<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Paul</i>,</p> - -<p>"I cannot make up my mind to leave Ornequin. A duty -keeps me here in which I shall not fail, the duty of -clearing my mother's memory. Do understand me, Paul. -My mother remains the purest of creatures in my eyes. -The woman who nursed me in her arms, for whom my -father retains all his love, must not be even -suspected. But you yourself accuse her; and it is -against you that I wish to defend her. To compel you -to believe me, I shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> find the proofs that are not -necessary to convince me. And it seems to me that -those proofs can only be found here. So I shall stay.</p> - -<p>"Jérôme and Rosalie are also staying on, though the -enemy is said to be approaching. They have brave -hearts, both of them, and you have nothing to fear, as -I shall not be alone.</p> - -<p class="signature">Élisabeth Delroze."</p></div> - -<p>Paul folded up the letter. He was very pale.</p> - -<p>Bernard asked:</p> - -<p>"She's gone, hasn't she?"</p> - -<p>"No, she's there."</p> - -<p>"But this is madness! What, with those beasts about! A lonely -country-house! . . . But look here, Paul, she must surely know the -terrible dangers that threaten her! . . . What can be keeping her there? -Oh, it's too dreadful to think of. . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul stood silent, with a drawn face and clenched fists. . . .</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br /> -<span class="smalltext">THE PEASANT-WOMAN AT CORVIGNY</span></h2> - - -<p>Three weeks before, on hearing that war was declared, Paul had felt -rising within him the immediate resolution to get killed at all costs. -The tragedy of his life, the horror of his marriage with a woman whom he -still loved in his heart, the certainty which he had acquired at the -Château d'Ornequin: all this had affected him to such a degree that he -came to look upon death as a boon. To him, war represented, from the -first and without the least demur, death. However much he might admire -the solemnly impressive and magnificently consoling events of those -first few weeks—the perfect order of the mobilization, the enthusiasm -of the soldiers, the wonderful unity that prevailed in France, the -awakening of the souls of the nation—none of these great spectacles -attracted his attention. Deep down within himself he had determined that -he would perform acts of such kind that not even the most improbable -hazard could succeed in saving him.</p> - -<p>Thus he thought that he had found the desired occasion on the first day. -To overmaster the spy whose presence he suspected in the church steeple<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -and then to penetrate to the very heart of the enemy's lines, in order -to signal the position, meant going to certain death. He went bravely. -And, as he had a very clear sense of his mission, he fulfilled it with -as much prudence as courage. He was ready to die, but to die after -succeeding. And he found a strange unexpected joy in the act itself as -well as in the success that attended it.</p> - -<p>The discovery of the dagger employed by the spy made a great impression -on him. What connection did it establish between this man and the one -who had tried to stab him? What was the connection between these two and -the Comtesse d'Andeville, who had died sixteen years ago? And how, by -what invisible links, were they all three related to that same work of -treachery and spying of which Paul had surprised so many instances?</p> - -<p>But Élisabeth's letter, above all, came upon him as a very violent blow. -She was over there, amidst the bullets and the shells, the hot fighting -around the château, the madness and the fury of the victors, the -burning, the shooting, the torturing and atrocities! She was there, she -so young and beautiful, almost alone, with no one to defend her! And she -was there because he, Paul, had not had the grit to go back to her and -see her once more and take her away with him!</p> - -<p>These thoughts produced in Paul fits of depression from which he would -suddenly awaken to thrust himself in the path of some danger, pursuing -his mad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> enterprises to the end, come what might, with a quiet courage -and a fierce obstinacy that filled his comrades with both surprise and -admiration. And from that time onward he seemed to be seeking not so -much death as the unspeakable ecstasy which a man feels in defying it.</p> - -<p>Then came the 6th of September, the day of the unheard-of miracle when -our great general-in-chief, addressing his armies in words that will -never perish, at last ordered them to fling themselves upon the enemy. -The gallantly-borne but cruel retreat came to an end. Exhausted, -breathless, fighting against odds for days, with no time for sleep, with -no time to eat, marching only by force of prodigious efforts of which -they were not even conscious, unable to say why they did not lie down in -the road-side ditches to await death, such were the men who received the -word of command:</p> - -<p>"Halt! About face! And now have at the enemy!"</p> - -<p>And they faced about. Those dying men recovered their strength. From the -humblest to the most illustrious, each summoned up his will and fought -as though the safety of France depended upon him alone. There were as -many glorious heroes as there were soldiers. They were asked to conquer -or die. They conquered.</p> - -<p>Paul shone in the front rank of the fearless. He himself knew that what -he did and what he endured, what he tried to do and what he succeeded in -doing surpassed the limits of reality. On the 6th and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> 7th and the -8th and again from the 11th to the 13th, despite his excessive fatigue, -despite the deprivations of sleep and food which it seemed impossible -for the human frame to resist, he had no other sensation than that of -advancing and again advancing—and always advancing. Whether in sunshine -or in shade, whether on the banks of the Marne or on the woody slopes of -the Argonne, whether north or east, when his division was sent to -reinforce the troops on the frontier, whether lying flat and creeping -along in the plowed fields or on his feet and charging with the bayonet, -he was always going forward and each step was a delivery and each step -was a conquest.</p> - -<p>Each step also increased the hatred in his heart. Oh, how right his -father had been to loathe those people! Paul now saw them at work. On -every side were stupid devastation and unreasoning destruction, on every -side arson, pillage and death, hostages shot, women murdered, bestially, -for the love of the thing. Churches, country-houses, mansions of the -rich and cabins of the poor: nothing remained. The very ruins had been -razed to the ground, the very corpses tortured.</p> - -<p>O the delight of defeating such an enemy! Though reduced to half its -full strength, Paul's regiment, released like a pack of hounds, never -ceased biting at the wild beast which it was hunting. The quarry seemed -more vicious and formidable the nearer it approached to the frontier; -and our men kept rushing at it in the mad hope of giving it the -death-stroke.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>One day Paul read on a sign-post at a cross-roads:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Corvigny, 14 Kil.<br /> -Ornequin, 31 Kil. 400.<br /> -The Frontier, 33 Kil. 200.</p></div> - -<p>Corvigny! Ornequin! A thrill passed through his frame when he saw those -unexpected words. As a rule, absorbed as he was by the heat of the -conflict and by his private cares, he paid little attention to the names -of the places which he passed; and he learnt them only by chance. And -now suddenly he was within so short a distance of the Château -d'Ornequin! "Corvigny, 14 kilometers:" less than nine miles! . . . Were -the French troops making for Corvigny, for the little fortified place -which the Germans had taken by assault and taken under such strange -conditions?</p> - -<p>That day, they had been fighting since daylight against an enemy whose -resistance seemed to grow slacker and slacker. Paul, at the head of a -squad of men, was sent to the village of Bléville with orders to enter -it if the enemy had retired, but go no farther. And it was just beyond -the last houses of the village that he saw the sign-post.</p> - -<p>At the time, he was not quite easy in his mind. A Taube had flown over -the country a few minutes before. There was the possibility of an -ambush.</p> - -<p>"Let's go back to the village," he said. "We'll barricade ourselves -while we wait."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>But there was a sudden noise behind a wooded hill that interrupted the -road in the Corvigny direction, a noise that became more and more -definite, until Paul recognized the powerful throb of a motor, doubtless -a motor carrying a quick-firing gun.</p> - -<p>"Crouch down in the ditch," he cried to his men. "Hide yourselves in the -haystacks. Fix bayonets. And don't move any of you!"</p> - -<p>He had realized the danger of that motor's passing through the village, -plunging in the midst of his company, scattering panic and then making -off by some other way.</p> - -<p>He quickly climbed the split trunk of an old oak and took up his -position in the branches a few feet above the road.</p> - -<p>The motor soon came in sight. It was, as he expected, an armored car, -but one of the old pattern, which allowed the helmets and heads of the -men to show above the steel plating.</p> - -<p>It came along at a smart pace, ready to dart forward in case of alarm. -The men were stooping with bent backs. Paul counted half-a-dozen of -them. The barrels of two Maxim guns projected beyond the car.</p> - -<p>He put his rifle to his shoulder and took aim at the driver, a fat -Teuton with a scarlet face that seemed dyed with blood. Then, when the -moment came, he calmly fired.</p> - -<p>"Charge, lads!" he cried, as he scrambled down from his tree.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>But it was not even necessary to take the car by storm. The driver, -struck in the chest, had had the presence of mind to apply the brakes -and pull up. Seeing themselves surrounded, the Germans threw up their -hands:</p> - -<p>"<i>Kamerad! Kamerad!</i>"</p> - -<p>And one of them, flinging down his arms, leapt from the motor and came -running up to Paul:</p> - -<p>"An Alsatian, sergeant, an Alsatian from Strasburg! Ah, sergeant, many's -the day that I've been waiting for this moment!"</p> - -<p>While his men were taking the prisoners to the village, Paul hurriedly -questioned the Alsatian:</p> - -<p>"Where has the car come from?"</p> - -<p>"Corvigny."</p> - -<p>"Any of your people there?"</p> - -<p>"Very few. A rearguard of two hundred and fifty Badeners at the most."</p> - -<p>"And in the forts?"</p> - -<p>"About the same number. They didn't think it necessary to mend the -turrets and now they've been taken unprepared. They're hesitating -whether to try and make a stand or to fall back on the frontier; and -that's why we were sent to reconnoiter."</p> - -<p>"So we can go ahead?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but at once, else they will receive powerful reinforcements, two -divisions."</p> - -<p>"When?"</p> - -<p>"To-morrow. They're to cross the frontier, to-morrow, about the middle -of the day."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>"By Jove! There's no time to be lost!" said Paul.</p> - -<p>While examining the guns and having the prisoners disarmed and searched, -Paul was considering the best measures to take, when one of his men, who -had stayed behind in the village, came and told him of the arrival of a -French detachment, with a lieutenant in command.</p> - -<p>Paul hastened to tell the officer what had happened. Events called for -immediate action. He offered to go on a scouting expedition in the -captured motor.</p> - -<p>"Very well," said the officer. "I'll occupy the village and arrange to -have the division informed as soon as possible."</p> - -<p>The car made off in the direction of Corvigny, with eight men packed -inside. Two of them, placed in charge of the quick-firing guns, studied -the mechanism. The Alsatian stood up, so as to show his helmet and -uniform clearly, and scanned the horizon on every side.</p> - -<p>All this was decided upon and done in the space of a few minutes, -without discussion and without delaying over the details of the -undertaking.</p> - -<p>"We must trust to luck," said Paul, taking his seat at the wheel. "Are -you ready to see the job through, boys?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; and further," said a voice which he recognized, just behind him.</p> - -<p>It was Bernard d'Andeville, Élisabeth's brother. Bernard belonged to the -9th company; and Paul had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> succeeded in avoiding him, since their first -meeting, or at least in not speaking to him. But he knew that the -youngster was fighting well.</p> - -<p>"Ah, so you're there?" he said.</p> - -<p>"In the flesh," said Bernard. "I came along with my lieutenant; and, -when I saw you getting into the motor and taking any one who turned up, -you can imagine how I jumped at the chance!" And he added, in a more -embarrassed tone, "The chance of doing a good stroke of work, under your -orders, and the chance of talking to you, Paul . . . for I've been -unlucky so far. . . . I even thought that . . . that you were not as -well-disposed to me as I hoped. . . ."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense," said Paul. "Only I was bothered. . . ."</p> - -<p>"You mean, about Élisabeth?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"I see. All the same, that doesn't explain why there was something -between us, a sort of constraint . . ."</p> - -<p>At that moment, the Alsatian exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"Lie low there! . . . Uhlans ahead! . . ."</p> - -<p>A patrol came trotting down a cross-road, turning the corner of a wood. -He shouted to them, as the car passed:</p> - -<p>"Clear out, Kameraden! Fast as you can! The French are coming!"</p> - -<p>Paul took advantage of the incident not to answer his brother-in-law. He -had forced the pace; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> the motor was now thundering along, scaling -the hills and shooting down them like a meteor.</p> - -<p>The enemy detachments became more numerous. The Alsatian called out to -them or else by means of signs incited them to beat an immediate -retreat.</p> - -<p>"It's the funniest thing to see," he said, laughing. "They're all -galloping behind us like mad." And he added, "I warn you, sergeant, that -at this rate we shall dash right into Corvigny. Is that what you want to -do?"</p> - -<p>"No," replied Paul, "we'll stop when the town's in sight."</p> - -<p>"And, if we're surrounded?"</p> - -<p>"By whom? In any case, these bands of fugitives won't be able to oppose -our return."</p> - -<p>Bernard d'Andeville spoke:</p> - -<p>"Paul," he said, "I don't believe you're thinking of returning."</p> - -<p>"You're quite right. Are you afraid?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, what an ugly word!"</p> - -<p>But presently Paul went on, in a gentler voice:</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry you came, Bernard."</p> - -<p>"Is the danger greater for me than for you and the others?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Then do me the honor not to be sorry."</p> - -<p>Still standing up and leaning over the sergeant, the Alsatian pointed -with his hand:</p> - -<p>"That spire straight ahead, behind the trees, is Corvigny. I calculate -that, by slanting up the hills<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> on the left, we ought to be able to see -what's happening in the town."</p> - -<p>"We shall see much better by going inside," Paul remarked. "Only it's a -big risk . . . especially for you, Alsatian. If they take you prisoner, -they'll shoot you. Shall I put you down this side of Corvigny?"</p> - -<p>"You haven't studied my face, sergeant."</p> - -<p>The road was now running parallel with the railway. Soon, the first -houses of the outskirts came in sight. A few soldiers appeared.</p> - -<p>"Not a word to these," Paul ordered. "It won't do to startle them . . . -or they'll take us from behind at the critical moment."</p> - -<p>He recognized the station and saw that it was strongly held. Spiked -helmets were coming and going along the avenues that led to the town.</p> - -<p>"Forward!" cried Paul. "If there's any large body of troops, it can only -be in the square. Are the guns ready? And the rifles? See to mine for -me, Bernard. And, at the first signal, independent fire!"</p> - -<p>The motor rushed at full speed into the square. As he expected, there -were about a hundred men there, all massed in front of the church-steps, -near their stacked rifles. The church was a mere heap of ruins; and -almost all the houses in the square had been leveled to the ground by -the bombardment.</p> - -<p>The officers, standing on one side, cheered and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> waved their hands on -seeing the motor which they had sent out to reconnoiter and whose return -they seemed to be expecting before making their decision about the -defense of the town. There were a good many of them, their number no -doubt including some communication officers. A general stood a head and -shoulders above the rest. A number of cars were waiting some little -distance away.</p> - -<p>The street was paved with cobble-stones and there was no raised pavement -between it and the square. Paul followed it; but, when he was within -twenty yards of the officers, he gave a violent turn of the wheel and -the terrible machine made straight for the group, knocking them down and -running over them, slanted off slightly, so as to take the stacks of -rifles, and then plunged like an irresistible mass right into the middle -of the detachment, spreading death as it went, amid a mad, hustling -flight and yells of pain and terror.</p> - -<p>"Independent fire!" cried Paul, stopping the car.</p> - -<p>And the firing began from this impregnable blockhouse, which had -suddenly sprung up in the center of the square, accompanied by the -sinister crackle of the two Maxim guns.</p> - -<p>In five minutes, the square was strewn with killed and wounded men. The -general and several officers lay dead. The survivors took to their -heels.</p> - -<p>Paul gave the order to cease fire and took the car to the top of the -avenue that led to the station. The troops from the station were -hastening up, at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>tracted by the shooting. A few volleys from the guns -dispersed them.</p> - -<p>Paul drove three times quickly round the square, to examine the -approaches. On every side the enemy was fleeing along the roads and -paths to the frontier. And on every hand the inhabitants of Corvigny -came out of their houses and gave vent to their delight.</p> - -<p>"Pick up and see to the wounded," Paul ordered. "And send for the -bell-ringer, or some one who understands about the bells. It's urgent!"</p> - -<p>An aged sacristan appeared.</p> - -<p>"The tocsin, old man, the tocsin for all you're worth! And, when you're -tired, have some one to take your place! The tocsin, without stopping -for a second!"</p> - -<p>This was the signal which Paul had agreed upon with the French -lieutenant, to announce to the division that the enterprise had -succeeded and that the troops were to advance.</p> - -<p>It was two o'clock. At five, the staff and a brigade had taken -possession of Corvigny and our seventy-fives were firing a few shells. -By ten o'clock in the evening, the rest of the division having come up -meantime, the Germans had been driven out of the Grand Jonas and the -Petit Jonas and were concentrating before the frontier. It was decided -to dislodge them at daybreak.</p> - -<p>"Paul," said Bernard to his brother-in-law, at the evening roll-call, "I -have something to tell you, something that puzzles me, a very queer -thing: you'll<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> judge for yourself. Just now, I was walking down one of -the streets near the church when a woman spoke to me. I couldn't make -out her face or her dress at first, because it was almost dark, but she -seemed to be a peasant-woman from the sound of her wooden shoes on the -cobbles. 'Young man,' she said—and her way of expressing herself -surprised me a little in a peasant-woman—'Young man, you may be able to -tell me something I want to know.' I said I was at her service and she -began, 'It's like this: I live in a little village close by. I heard -just now that your army corps was here. So I came, because I wanted to -see a soldier who belonged to it, only I don't know the number of his -regiment. I believe he has been transferred, because I never get a -letter from him; and I dare say he has not had mine. Oh, if you only -happened to know him! He's such a good lad, such a gallant fellow.' I -asked her to tell me his name; and she answered, 'Delroze, Corporal Paul -Delroze.'"</p> - -<p>"What!" cried Paul. "Did she want me?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Paul, and the coincidence struck me as so curious that I just gave -her the number of your regiment and your company, without telling her -that we were related. 'Good,' she said. 'And is the regiment at -Corvigny?' I said it had just arrived. 'And do you know Paul Delroze?' -'Only by name,' I answered. I can't tell you why I answered like that, -or why I continued the conversation so as not to let her guess my -surprise: 'He has been promoted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> to sergeant,' I said, 'and mentioned in -dispatches. That's how I come to have heard his name. Shall I find out -where he is and take you to him?' 'Not yet,' she said, 'not yet. I -should be too much upset.'"</p> - -<p>"What on earth did she mean?"</p> - -<p>"I can't imagine. It struck me as more and more suspicious. Here was a -woman looking for you eagerly and yet putting off the chance of seeing -you. I asked her if she was very much interested in you and she said -yes, that you were her son."</p> - -<p>"Her son!"</p> - -<p>"Up to then I am certain that she did not suspect for a second that I -was cross-examining her. But my astonishment was so great that she drew -back into the shadow, as though to put herself on the defensive. I -slipped my hand into my pocket, pulled out my little electric lamp, went -up to her, pressed the spring and flung the light full in her face. She -seemed disconcerted and stood for a moment without moving. Then she -quickly lowered a scarf which she wore over her head and, with a -strength which I should never have believed, struck me on the arm and -made me drop my lamp. Then came a second of absolute silence. I couldn't -make out where she was: whether in front of me, or on the right or the -left. There was no sound to tell me if she was there still or not. But I -understood presently, when, after picking up my lamp and switching on -the light again, I saw her two wooden shoes on the ground. She had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -stepped out of them and run away on her stocking-feet. I hunted for her, -but couldn't find her. She had disappeared."</p> - -<p>Paul had listened to his brother-in-law's story with increasing -attention.</p> - -<p>"Then you saw her face?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, quite distinctly! A strong face, with black hair and eyebrows and a -look of great wickedness. . . . Her clothes were those of a -peasant-woman, but too clean and too carefully put on: I felt somehow -that they were a disguise."</p> - -<p>"About what age was she?"</p> - -<p>"Forty."</p> - -<p>"Would you know her again?"</p> - -<p>"Without a moment's hesitation."</p> - -<p>"What was the color of the scarf you mentioned?"</p> - -<p>"Black."</p> - -<p>"How was it fastened? In a knot?"</p> - -<p>"No, with a brooch."</p> - -<p>"A cameo?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, a large cameo set in gold. How did you know that?"</p> - -<p>Paul was silent for some time and then said:</p> - -<p>"I will show you to-morrow, in one of the rooms at Ornequin, a portrait -which should bear a striking resemblance to the woman who spoke to you, -the sort of resemblance that exists between two sisters perhaps . . . or -. . . or . . ." He took his brother-in-law by the arm and, leading him -along, continued, "Listen to me, Bernard. There are terri<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>ble things -around us, in the present and the past, things that affect my life and -Élisabeth's . . . and yours as well. Therefore, I am struggling in the -midst of a hideous obscurity in which enemies whom I do not know have -for twenty years been pursuing a scheme which I am quite unable to -understand. In the beginning of the struggle, my father died, the victim -of a murder. To-day it is I that am being threatened. My marriage with -your sister is shattered and nothing can bring us together again, just -as nothing will ever again allow you and me to be on those terms of -friendship and confidence which we had the right to hope for. Don't ask -me any questions, Bernard, and don't try to find out any more. One day, -perhaps—and I do not wish that day ever to arrive—you will know why I -begged for your silence."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br /> -<span class="smalltext">WHAT PAUL SAW AT ORNEQUIN</span></h2> - - -<p>Paul Delroze was awakened at dawn by the bugle-call. And, in the -artillery duel that now began, he at once recognized the sharp, dry -voice of the seventy-fives and the hoarse bark of the German -seventy-sevens.</p> - -<p>"Are you coming, Paul?" Bernard called from his room. "Coffee is served -downstairs."</p> - -<p>The brothers-in-law had found two little bedrooms over a publican's -shop. While they both did credit to a substantial breakfast, Paul told -Bernard the particulars of the occupation of Corvigny and Ornequin which -he had gathered on the evening before:</p> - -<p>"On Wednesday, the nineteenth of August, Corvigny, to the great -satisfaction of the inhabitants, still thought that it would be spared -the horrors of war. There was fighting in Alsace and outside Nancy, -there was fighting in Belgium; but it looked as if the German thrust -were neglecting the route of invasion offered by the valley of the -Liseron. The fact is that this road is a narrow one and apparently of -secondary importance. At Corvigny, a French brigade was busily pushing -forward the defense-works. The Grand Jonas and the Petit Jonas were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> -ready under their concrete cupolas. Our fellows were waiting."</p> - -<p>"And at Ornequin?" asked Bernard.</p> - -<p>"At Ornequin, we had a company of light infantry. The officers put up at -the house. This company, supported by a detachment of dragoons, -patrolled the frontier day and night. In case of alarm, the orders were -to inform the forts at once and to retreat fighting. The evening of -Wednesday was absolutely quiet. A dozen dragoons had galloped over the -frontier till they were in sight of the little German town of Èbrecourt. -There was not a movement of troops to be seen on that side, nor on the -railway-line that ends at Èbrecourt. The night also was peaceful. Not a -shot was fired. It is fully proved that at two o'clock in the morning -not a single German soldier had crossed the frontier. Well, at two -o'clock exactly, a violent explosion was heard, followed by four others -at close intervals. These explosions were due to the bursting of five -four-twenty shells which demolished straightway the three cupolas of the -Grand Jonas and the two cupolas of the Petit Jonas."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean? Corvigny is fifteen miles from the frontier; and the -four-twenties don't carry as far as that!"</p> - -<p>"That didn't prevent six more shells falling at Corvigny, all on the -church or in the square. And these six shells fell twenty minutes later, -that is to say, at the time when it was to be presumed that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> the alarm -would have been given and that the Corvigny garrison would have -assembled in the square. This was just what had happened; and you can -imagine the carnage that resulted."</p> - -<p>"I agree; but, once more, the frontier was fifteen miles away. That -distance must have given our troops time to form up again and to prepare -for the attacks foretold by the bombardment. They had at least three or -four hours before them."</p> - -<p>"They hadn't fifteen minutes. The bombardment was not over before the -assault began. Assault isn't the word: our troops, those at Corvigny as -well as those which hastened up from the two forts, were decimated and -routed, surrounded by the enemy, shot down or obliged to surrender, -before it was possible to organize any sort of resistance. It all -happened suddenly under the blinding glare of flash-lights erected no -one knew where or how. And the catastrophe was immediate. You may take -it that Corvigny was invested, attacked, captured and occupied by the -enemy, all in ten minutes."</p> - -<p>"But where did he come from? Where did he spring from?"</p> - -<p>"Nobody knows."</p> - -<p>"But the night-patrols on the frontier? The sentries? The company on -duty at Ornequin?"</p> - -<p>"Never heard of again. No one knows anything, not a word, not a rumor, -about those three hundred men whose business it was to keep watch and to -warn the others. You can reckon up the Corvigny garri<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>son, with the -soldiers who escaped and the dead whom the inhabitants identified and -buried. But the three hundred light infantry of Ornequin disappeared -without leaving the shadow of a trace behind them, not a fugitive, not a -wounded man, not a corpse, nothing at all."</p> - -<p>"It seems incredible. Whom did you talk to?"</p> - -<p>"I saw ten people last night who, for a month, with no one to interfere -with them except a few soldiers of the Landsturm placed in charge of -Corvigny, have pursued a minute inquiry into all these problems, without -establishing so much as a plausible theory. One thing alone is certain: -the business was prepared long ago, down to the slightest detail. The -exact range had been taken of the forts, the cupolas, the church and the -square; and the siege-gun had been placed in position before and -accurately laid so that the eleven shells should strike the eleven -objects aimed at. That's all. The rest is mystery."</p> - -<p>"And what about the château? And Élisabeth?"</p> - -<p>Paul had risen from his seat. The bugles were sounding the morning -roll-call. The gun-fire was twice as intense as before. They both -started for the square; and Paul continued:</p> - -<p>"Here, too, the mystery is bewildering and perhaps worse. One of the -cross-roads that run through the fields between Corvigny and Ornequin -has been made a boundary by the enemy which no one here had the right to -overstep under pain of death."</p> - -<p>"Then Élisabeth . . . ?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>"I don't know, I know nothing more. And it's terrible, this shadow of -death lying over everything, over every incident. It appears—I have not -been able to find out where the rumor originated—that the village of -Ornequin, near the château, no longer exists. It has been entirely -destroyed, more than that, annihilated; and its four hundred inhabitants -have been sent away into captivity. And then . . ." Paul shuddered and, -lowering his voice, went on, "And then . . . what did they do at the -château? You can see the house, you can still see it at a distance, with -its walls and turrets standing. But what happened behind those walls? -What has become of Élisabeth? For nearly four weeks she has been living -in the midst of those brutes, poor thing, exposed to every outrage! -. . ."</p> - -<p>The sun had hardly risen when they reached the square. Paul was sent for -by his colonel, who gave him the heartiest congratulations of the -general commanding the division and told him that his name had been -submitted for the military cross and for a commission as second -lieutenant and that he was to take command of his section from now.</p> - -<p>"That's all," said the colonel, laughing. "Unless you have any further -request to make."</p> - -<p>"I have two, sir."</p> - -<p>"Go ahead."</p> - -<p>"First, that my brother-in-law here, Bernard d'Andeville, may be at once -transferred to my section as corporal. He's deserved it."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>"Very well. And next?"</p> - -<p>"My second request is that presently, when we move towards the frontier, -my section may be sent to the Château d'Ornequin, which is on the direct -route."</p> - -<p>"You mean that it is to take part in the attack on the château?"</p> - -<p>"The attack?" echoed Paul, in alarm. "Why, the enemy is concentrated -along the frontier, four miles from the château!"</p> - -<p>"So it was believed, yesterday. In reality, the concentration took place -at the Château d'Ornequin, an excellent defensive position where the -enemy is hanging desperately while waiting for his reinforcements to -come up. The best proof is that he's answering our fire. Look at that -shell bursting over there . . . and, farther off, that shrapnel . . . -two . . . three of them. Those are the guns which located the batteries -which we have set up on the surrounding hills and which are now -peppering them like mad. They must have twenty guns there."</p> - -<p>"Then, in that case," stammered Paul, tortured by a horrible thought, -"in that case, that fire of our batteries is directed at . . ."</p> - -<p>"At them, of course. Our seventy-fives have been bombarding the Château -d'Ornequin for the last hour."</p> - -<p>Paul uttered an exclamation of horror:</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to say, sir, that we're bombarding Ornequin? . . ."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>And Bernard d'Andeville, standing beside him, repeated, in an -anguish-stricken voice:</p> - -<p>"Bombarding Ornequin? Oh, how awful!"</p> - -<p>The colonel asked, in surprise:</p> - -<p>"Do you know the place? Perhaps it belongs to you? Is that so? And are -any of your people there?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, my wife."</p> - -<p>Paul was very pale. Though he made an effort to stand stock-still, in -order to master his emotion, his hands trembled a little and his chin -quivered.</p> - -<p>On the Grand Jonas, three pieces of heavy artillery began thundering, -three Rimailho guns, which had been hoisted into position by traction -engines. And this, added to the stubborn work of the seventy-fives, -assumed a terrible significance after Paul Delroze's words. The colonel -and the group of officers around him kept silence. The situation was one -of those in which the fatalities of war run riot in all their tragic -horror, stronger than the forces of nature themselves and, like them, -blind, unjust and implacable. There was nothing to be done. Not one of -those men would have dreamt of asking for the gun-fire to cease or to -slacken its activity. And Paul did not dream of it, either. He merely -said:</p> - -<p>"It looks as if the enemy's fire was slowing down. Perhaps they are -retreating. . . ."</p> - -<p>Three shells bursting at the far end of the town, behind the church, -belied this hope. The colonel shook his head:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>"Retreating? Not yet. The place is too important to them; they are -waiting for reinforcements and they won't give way until our regiments -take part in the game . . . which won't be long now."</p> - -<p>In fact, the order to advance was brought to the colonel a few moments -later. The regiment was to follow the road and deploy in the meadows on -the right.</p> - -<p>"Come along, gentlemen," he said to his officers. "Sergeant Delroze's -section will march in front. His objective will be the Château -d'Ornequin. There are two little short cuts. Take both of them."</p> - -<p>"Very well, sir."</p> - -<p>All Paul's sorrow and rage were intensified in a boundless need for -action; when he marched off with his men, he felt an inexhaustible -strength, felt capable of conquering the enemy's position all by -himself. He moved from one to the other with the untiring hurry of a -sheep-dog hustling his flock. He never ceased advising and encouraging -his men:</p> - -<p>"You're one of the plucky ones, old chap, I know, you're no shirker. -. . . Nor you either . . . Only you think too much about your skin, you -keep grumbling, when you ought to be cheerful. . . . Who's downhearted, -eh? There's a bit more collar-work to do and we're going to do it -without looking behind us, what?"</p> - -<p>Overhead, the shells followed their march in the air, whistling and -moaning and exploding till they formed a sort of canopy of steel and -grape-shot.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>"Duck your heads! Lie down flat!" cried Paul.</p> - -<p>He himself remained standing, indifferent to the flight of the enemy's -shells. But with what terror he listened to our own, those coming from -behind, from all the hills hard by, whizzing ahead of them to carry -destruction and death. Where would this one fall? And that one, where -would its murderous rain of bullets and splinters descend?</p> - -<p>He was obsessed with the vision of his wife, wounded, dying, and kept on -murmuring her name. For many days now, ever since the day when he learnt -that Élisabeth had refused to leave the Château d'Ornequin, he could not -think of her without a loving emotion that was never spoilt by any -impulse of revolt, any movement of anger. He no longer mingled the -detestable memories of the past with the charming reality of his love. -When he thought of the hated mother, the image of the daughter no longer -appeared before his mind. They were two creatures of a different race, -having no connection one with the other. Élisabeth, full of courage, -risking her life to obey a duty to which she attached a value greater -than her life, acquired in Paul's eyes a singular dignity. She was -indeed the woman whom he had loved and cherished, the woman whom he -loved still.</p> - -<p>Paul stopped. He had ventured with his men into an open piece of ground, -probably marked down in advance, which the enemy was now peppering with -shrapnel. A number of men were hit.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>"Halt!" he cried. "Flat on your stomachs, all of you!"</p> - -<p>He caught hold of Bernard:</p> - -<p>"Lie down, kid, can't you? Why expose yourself unnecessarily? . . . Stay -there. Don't move."</p> - -<p>He held him to the ground with a friendly pressure, keeping his arm -round Bernard's neck and speaking to him with gentleness, as though he -were trying to display to the brother all the affection that rose to his -heart for his dear Élisabeth. He forgot the harsh words which he had -addressed to Bernard and uttered quite different words, throbbing with a -fondness which he had denied the evening before:</p> - -<p>"Don't move, youngster. You see, I had no business to bring you with me -or to drag you into this hot place. I'm responsible for you and I'm not -going to have you hurt."</p> - -<p>The fire diminished in intensity. By crawling over the ground, the men -reached a double row of poplars which led them, by a gentle ascent, -towards a ridge intersected by a hollow road. Paul, on climbing the -slope which overlooked the Ornequin plateau, saw the ruins of the -village in the distance, with its shattered church, and, farther to the -left, a wilderness of trees and stones whence rose the walls of a -building. This was the château. On every side around were blazing -farmhouses, haystacks and barns.</p> - -<p>Behind the section, the French troops were scattering forward in all -directions. A battery had taken up its position in the shelter of a wood -close<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> by and was firing incessantly. Paul could see the shells bursting -over the château and among the ruins.</p> - -<p>Unable to bear the sight any longer, he resumed his march at the head of -his section. The enemy's guns had ceased thundering, had doubtless been -reduced to silence. But, when they were well within two miles of -Ornequin, the bullets whistled around them and Paul saw a detachment of -Germans falling back upon the village, firing as they went. And the -seventy-fives and Rimailhos kept on growling. The din was terrible.</p> - -<p>Paul gripped Bernard by the arm and, in a quivering voice, said:</p> - -<p>"If anything happens to me, tell Élisabeth that I beg her to forgive me. -Do you understand? I beg her to forgive me."</p> - -<p>He was suddenly afraid that fate would not allow him to see his wife -again; and he realized that he had behaved to her with unpardonable -cruelty, deserting her as though she were guilty of a fault which she -had not committed and abandoning her to every form of distress and -torment. And he walked on briskly, followed at a distance by his men.</p> - -<p>But, at the spot where the short cut joins the high road, in sight of -the Liseron, a cyclist rode up to him. The colonel had ordered that the -section should wait for the main body of the regiment in order to make -an attack in full force.</p> - -<p>This was the cruelest test of all. Paul, a victim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> to ever-increasing -excitement, trembled with fever and rage.</p> - -<p>"Come, Paul," said Bernard, "don't work yourself into such a state! We -shall get there in time."</p> - -<p>"In time for what?" he retorted. "To find her dead or wounded? Or not to -find her at all? Oh, hang it, why can't our guns stop their damned row? -What are they shelling, now that the enemy's no longer replying? Dead -bodies and demolished houses! . . ."</p> - -<p>"What about the rearguard covering the German retreat?"</p> - -<p>"Well, aren't we here, the infantry? This is our job. All we have to do -is to send out our sharpshooters and follow up with a good -bayonet-charge. . . ."</p> - -<p>At last the section set out again, reinforced by the remainder of the -ninth company and under the command of the captain. A detachment of -hussars galloped by, pricking towards the village to cut off the -fugitives. The company swerved towards the château.</p> - -<p>Opposite them, all was silent as the grave. Was it a trap? Was there not -every reason to believe that enemy forces, strongly entrenched and -barricaded as these were, would prepare to offer a last resistance? And -yet there was nothing suspicious in the avenue of old oaks that led to -the front court, not a sign of life to be seen or heard.</p> - -<p>Paul and Bernard, still keeping ahead, with their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> fingers on the -trigger of their rifles, searched the dim light of the underwood with a -keen glance. Columns of smoke rose above the wall, which was now quite -near, yawning with breach upon breach. As they approached, they heard -moans, followed by the heart-rending sound of a death-rattle. It was the -German wounded.</p> - -<p>And suddenly the earth shook as though an inner upheaval had shattered -its crust and from the other side of the wall came a tremendous -explosion, or rather a series of explosions, like so many peals of -thunder. The air was darkened with a cloud of sand and dust which sent -forth all sorts of stones and rubbish. The enemy had blown up the -château.</p> - -<p>"That was meant for us, I expect," said Bernard. "We were to have been -blown up at the same time. They were out in their calculations."</p> - -<p>When they had passed the gate, the sight of the mined court-yard, of the -shattered turrets, of the demolished château, of the out-houses in -flames, of the dying in their last throes and the thickly stacked -corpses of the dead startled them into recoiling.</p> - -<p>"Forward! Forward!" shouted the colonel, galloping up. "There are troops -that must have made off across the park."</p> - -<p>Paul knew the road, which he had covered a few weeks earlier in such -tragic circumstances. He rushed across the lawns, among blocks of stone -and uprooted trees. But, as he passed in sight of a little lodge that -stood at the entrance to the wood, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> stopped, nailed to the ground. -And Bernard and all the men stood stupefied, opening their mouths wide -with horror.</p> - -<p>Against the lodge, two corpses rested on their feet, fastened to rings -in the wall by a single chain wound round their waists. Their bodies -were bent over the chains and their arms hung to the ground.</p> - -<p>They were the corpses of a man and a woman. Paul recognized Jérôme and -Rosalie. They had been shot.</p> - -<p>The chain continued beyond them. There was a third ring in the wall. The -plaster was stained with blood and there were visible traces of bullets. -There had been a third victim, without a doubt, and the body had been -removed.</p> - -<p>As he approached, Paul noticed a splinter of bomb-shell embedded in the -plaster. Around the hole thus formed, between the plaster and the -splinter, was a handful of fair hair with golden lights in it, hair torn -from the head of Élisabeth.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br /> -<span class="smalltext">H. E. R. M.</span></h2> - - -<p>Paul's first feeling was an immense need of revenge, then and there, at -all costs, a need outweighing any sense of horror or despair. He gazed -around him, as though all the wounded men who lay dying in the park were -guilty of the monstrous crime:</p> - -<p>"The cowards!" he snarled. "The murderers!"</p> - -<p>"Are you sure," stammered Bernard, "are you sure it's Élisabeth's hair?"</p> - -<p>"Why, of course I am. They've shot her as they shot the two others. I -know them both: it's the keeper and his wife. Oh, the blackguards! -. . ."</p> - -<p>He raised the butt of his rifle over a German dragging himself in the -grass and was about to strike him, when the Colonel came up to him:</p> - -<p>"Hullo, Delroze, what are you doing? Where's your company?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, sir, if you only knew! . . ."</p> - -<p>He rushed up to his colonel. He looked like a madman and brandished his -rifle as he spoke:</p> - -<p>"They've killed her, sir, yes, they've shot my wife. . . . Look, against -the wall there, with the two people who were in her service. . . . -They've shot her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> . . . She was twenty years old, sir. . . . Oh, we -must kill them all like dogs!"</p> - -<p>But Bernard was dragging him away:</p> - -<p>"Don't let us waste time, Paul; we can take our revenge on those who are -still fighting. . . . I hear firing over there. Some of them are -surrounded, I expect."</p> - -<p>Paul hardly knew what he was doing. He started running again, drunk with -rage and grief.</p> - -<p>Ten minutes later, he had rejoined his company and was crossing the open -space where his father had been stabbed. The chapel was in front of him. -Farther on, instead of the little door that used to be in the wall, a -great breach had been made, to admit the convoys of wagons for -provisioning the castle. Eight hundred yards beyond it, a violent -rifle-fire crackled over the fields, at the crossing of the road and the -highway.</p> - -<p>A few dozen retreating Germans were trying to force their way through -the hussars who had come by the high road. They were attacked from -behind by Paul's company, but succeeded in taking shelter in a square -patch of trees and copsewood, where they defended themselves with fierce -energy, retiring step by step and dropping one after the other.</p> - -<p>"Why don't they surrender?" muttered Paul, who was firing continually -and who was gradually being calmed by the heat of the fray. "You would -think they were trying to gain time."</p> - -<p>"Look over there!" said Bernard, in a husky voice.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>Under the trees, a motor-car had just come from the frontier, crammed -with German soldiers. Was it bringing reinforcements? No, the motor -turned almost in its own length; and between it and the last of the -combatants stood an officer in a long gray cloak, who, revolver in hand, -exhorted them to persevere in their resistance, while he himself -effected his retreat towards the car sent to his rescue.</p> - -<p>"Look, Paul," Bernard repeated, "look!"</p> - -<p>Paul was dumfounded. That officer to whom Bernard was calling his -attention was . . . but no, it could not be. And yet . . .</p> - -<p>"What do you mean to suggest, Bernard?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"It's the same face," muttered Bernard, "the same face as yesterday, you -know, Paul: the face of the woman who asked me those questions about -you, Paul."</p> - -<p>And Paul on his side recognized beyond the possibility of a doubt the -mysterious individual who had tried to kill him at the little door -leading out of the park, the creature who presented such an -unconceivable resemblance to his father's murderess, to the woman of the -portrait, to Hermine d'Andeville, Élisabeth's mother and Bernard's.</p> - -<p>Bernard raised his rifle to fire.</p> - -<p>"No, don't do that!" cried Paul, terrified at the movement.</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Let's try and take him alive."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>He darted forward in a mad rush of hatred, but the officer had run to -the car. The German soldiers held out their hands and hoisted him into -their midst. Paul shot the one who was seated at the wheel. The officer -caught hold of it just as the car was about to strike a tree, changed -the direction and, skilfully guiding the car past the intervening -obstacles, drove it behind a bend in the ground and from there towards -the frontier. He was saved.</p> - -<p>As soon as he was beyond the range of the bullets, the German soldiers -who were still fighting surrendered.</p> - -<p>Paul was trembling with impotent fury. To him this individual -represented every imaginable form of evil; and, from the first to the -last minute of that long series of tragedies, murders, attempts at -spying and assassination, treacheries and deliberate shootings, all -conceived with the same object and the same spirit, that one figure -stood out as the very genius of crime.</p> - -<p>Nothing short of the creature's death would have appeased Paul's hatred. -It was he, the monster, Paul never entertained a doubt of it, who had -ordered Élisabeth to be shot. Élisabeth shot! Oh, the shame of it! Oh, -infernal vision that tormented him! . . .</p> - -<p>"Who is he?" he cried. "How can we find out? How can we get at him and -torture him and kill him?"</p> - -<p>"Question a prisoner," said Bernard.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>The captain considered it wiser to advance no farther and ordered the -company to fall back, so as to remain in touch with the remainder of the -regiment. Paul was told off specially to occupy the château with his -section and to take the prisoners there.</p> - -<p>He lost no time in questioning two or three non-commissioned officers -and some of the soldiers, as they went. But he could obtain nothing but -a mass of conflicting particulars from them, for they had arrived from -Corvigny the day before and had only spent the night at the château. -They did not even know the name of the officer in the flowing gray cloak -for whom so many of them had sacrificed their lives. He was called the -major; and that was all.</p> - -<p>"But still," Paul insisted, "he was your actual commanding officer?"</p> - -<p>"No. The leader of the rearguard detachment to which we belong is an -Oberleutnant who was wounded by the exploding of the mines, when we ran -away. We wanted to take him with us, but the major objected, leveling -his revolver at us, telling us to march in front of him and threatening -to shoot the first man who left him in the lurch. And just now, while we -were fighting, he stood ten paces behind us and kept threatening us with -his revolver to compel us to defend him. He shot three of us, as a -matter of fact."</p> - -<p>"He was reckoning on the assistance of the car, wasn't he?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>"Yes; and also on reinforcements which were to save us all, so he said. -But only the car came; and it just saved him."</p> - -<p>"The Oberleutnant would know his name, of course. Is he badly wounded?"</p> - -<p>"He's got a broken leg. We made him comfortable in a lodge in the park."</p> - -<p>"The lodge against which your people put to death . . . those -civilians?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>They were nearing the lodge, a sort of little orangery into which the -plants were taken in winter. Rosalie and Jérôme's bodies had been -removed. But the sinister chain was still hanging on the wall, fastened -to the three iron rings; and Paul once more beheld, with a shudder of -dread, the marks left by the bullet and the little splinter of -bomb-shell that kept Élisabeth's hair embedded in the plaster.</p> - -<p>A French bomb-shell! An added horror to the atrocity of the murder!</p> - -<p>It was therefore Paul who, on the day before, by capturing the armored -motor-car and effecting his daring raid on Corvigny, thus opening the -road to the French troops, had brought about the events that ended in -his wife's being murdered! The enemy had revenged himself for his -retreat by shooting the inhabitants of the château! Élisabeth fastened -to the wall by a chain had been riddled with bullets. And, by a hideous -irony, her corpse had received in addition the splinters of the first -shells which the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> French guns had fired before night-fall, from the top -of the hills near Corvigny.</p> - -<p>Paul pulled out the fragments of shell and removed the golden strands, -which he put away religiously. He and Bernard then entered the lodge, -where the Red Cross men had established a temporary ambulance. They -found the Oberleutnant lying on a truss of straw, well looked after and -able to answer questions.</p> - -<p>One point at once became quite clear, which was that the German troops -which had garrisoned the Château d'Ornequin had, so to speak, never been -in touch at all with those which, the day before, had retreated from -Corvigny and the adjoining forts. The garrison had been evacuated -immediately upon the arrival of the fighting troops, as though to avoid -any indiscretion on the subject of what had happened during the -occupation of the château.</p> - -<p>"At that moment," said the Oberleutnant, who belonged to the fighting -force, not to the garrison, "it was seven o'clock in the evening. Your -seventy-fives had already got the range of the château; and we found no -one there but a number of generals and other officers of superior rank. -Their baggage-wagons were leaving and their motors were ready to leave. -I was ordered to hold out as long as I could to blow up the château. The -major had made all the arrangements beforehand."</p> - -<p>"What was the major's name?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. He was walking about with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> young officer whom even the -generals addressed with respect. This same officer called me over to him -and charged me to obey the major 'as I would the emperor.'"</p> - -<p>"And who was the young officer?"</p> - -<p>"Prince Conrad."</p> - -<p>"A son of the Kaiser's?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. He left the château yesterday, late in the day."</p> - -<p>"And did the major spend the night here?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose so; at any rate, he was there this morning. We fired the -mines and left . . . a bit late, for I was wounded near this lodge . . . -near the wall. . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul mastered his emotion and said:</p> - -<p>"You mean, the wall against which your people shot three French -civilians, don't you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"When were they shot?"</p> - -<p>"About six o'clock in the afternoon, I believe, before we arrived from -Corvigny."</p> - -<p>"Who ordered them to be shot?"</p> - -<p>"The major."</p> - -<p>Paul felt the perspiration trickling from the top of his head down his -neck and forehead. It was as he thought: Élisabeth had been shot by the -orders of that nameless and more than mysterious individual whose face -was the very image of the face of Hermine d'Andeville, Élisabeth's -mother!</p> - -<p>He went on, in a trembling voice:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>"So there were three people shot? You're quite sure?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the people of the château. They had been guilty of treachery."</p> - -<p>"A man and two women?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"But there were only two bodies fastened to the wall of the lodge."</p> - -<p>"Yes, only two. The major had the lady of the house buried by Prince -Conrad's orders."</p> - -<p>"Where?"</p> - -<p>"He didn't tell me."</p> - -<p>"But why was she shot?"</p> - -<p>"I understand that she had got hold of some very important secrets."</p> - -<p>"They could have taken her away and kept her as a prisoner."</p> - -<p>"Certainly, but Prince Conrad was tired of her."</p> - -<p>Paul gave a start:</p> - -<p>"What's that you say?"</p> - -<p>The officer resumed, with a smile that might mean anything:</p> - -<p>"Well, damn it all, everybody knows Prince Conrad! He's the Don Juan of -the family. He'd been staying at the château for some weeks and had time -to make an impression, had he not? . . . And then . . . and then to get -tired. . . . Besides, the major maintained that the woman and her two -servants had tried to poison the prince. So you see . . ."</p> - -<p>He did not finish his sentence. Paul was bending<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> over him and, with a -face distorted with rage, took him by the throat and shouted:</p> - -<p>"Another word, you dog, and I'll throttle the life out of you! Ah, you -can thank your stars that you're wounded! . . . If you weren't . . . if -you weren't . . . !"</p> - -<p>And Bernard, beside himself with rage, joined in:</p> - -<p>"Yes, you can think yourself lucky. As for your Prince Conrad, he's a -swine, let me tell you . . . and I mean to tell <i>him</i> so to his face. -. . . He's a swine like all his beastly family and like the whole lot of -you! . . ."</p> - -<p>They left the Oberleutnant utterly dazed and unable to understand a word -of this sudden outburst. But, once outside, Paul had a fit of despair. -His nerves relaxed. All his anger and all his hatred were changed into -infinite depression. He could hardly contain his tears.</p> - -<p>"Come, Paul," exclaimed Bernard, "surely you don't believe a word -. . . ?"</p> - -<p>"No, no, and again no! But I can guess what happened. That drunken brute -of a prince must have tried to make eyes at Élisabeth and to take -advantage of his position. Just think! A woman, alone and defenseless: -that was a conquest worth making! What tortures the poor darling must -have undergone, what humiliations! . . . A daily struggle, with threats -and brutalities. . . . And, at the last moment, death, to punish her for -her resistance. . . ."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>"We shall avenge her, Paul," said Bernard, in a low voice.</p> - -<p>"We shall; but shall I ever forget that it was on my account, through my -fault, that she stayed here? I will explain what I mean later on; and -you will understand how hard and unjust I have been. . . . And yet -. . ."</p> - -<p>He stood gloomily thinking. He was haunted by the image of the major and -he repeated:</p> - -<p>"And yet . . . and yet . . . there are things that seem so strange. -. . ."</p> - -<hr class="thin" /> - -<p>All that afternoon, French troops kept streaming in through the valley -of the Liseron and the village of Ornequin in order to resist any -counter-attack by the enemy. Paul's section was resting; and he and -Bernard took advantage of this to make a minute search in the park and -among the ruins of the château. But there was no clue to reveal to them -where Élisabeth's body lay hidden.</p> - -<p>At five o'clock, they gave Rosalie and Jérôme a decent burial. Two -crosses were set up on a little mound strewn with flowers. An army -chaplain came and said the prayers for the dead. And Paul was moved to -tears when he knelt on the grave of those two faithful servants whose -devotion had been their undoing.</p> - -<p>Then also Paul promised to avenge. And his longing for vengeance evoked -in his mind, with almost painful intensity, the hated image of the -major, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> image which had now become inseparable from his -recollections of the Comtesse d'Andeville.</p> - -<p>He led Bernard away from the grave and asked:</p> - -<p>"Are you sure that you were not mistaken in connecting the major and the -supposed peasant-woman who questioned you at Corvigny?"</p> - -<p>"Absolutely."</p> - -<p>"Then come with me. I told you of a woman's portrait. We will go and -look at it and you shall tell me what impression it makes upon you."</p> - -<p>Paul had noticed that that part of the castle which contained Hermine -d'Andeville's bedroom and boudoir had not been entirely demolished by -the explosion of either the mines or shells. It was possible that the -boudoir was still in its former condition.</p> - -<p>The staircase had been destroyed; and they had to clamber up the -shattered masonry in order to reach the first floor. Traces of the -corridor were visible here and there. All the doors were gone; and the -rooms presented an appearance of pitiful chaos.</p> - -<p>"It's here," said Paul, pointing to an open place between two pieces of -wall that remained standing as by a miracle.</p> - -<p>It was indeed Hermine d'Andeville's boudoir, shattered and dilapidated, -cracked from top to bottom and filled with plaster and rubbish, but -quite recognizable and containing all the furniture which Paul had -noticed on the evening of his marriage. The window-shutters darkened the -room partly, but there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> was enough light for Paul to see the whereabouts -of the wall opposite. And he at once exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"The portrait has been taken away!"</p> - -<p>It was a great disappointment to him and, at the same time, a proof of -the great importance which his enemy attached to the portrait, which -could only have been removed because it constituted an overwhelming -piece of evidence.</p> - -<p>"I assure you," said Bernard, "that this does not affect my opinion in -the least. There was no need to verify my conviction about the major and -that peasant-woman at Corvigny. Whose portrait was it?"</p> - -<p>"I told you, a woman."</p> - -<p>"What woman? Was it a picture which my father hung there, one of the -pictures of his collection?"</p> - -<p>"That was it," said Paul, welcoming the opportunity of throwing his -brother-in-law off the scent.</p> - -<p>Opening one of the shutters, he saw a mark on the wall of the -rectangular space which the picture used to occupy; and he was able to -perceive, from certain details, that the removal had been effected in a -hurry. For instance, the gilt scroll had dropped from the frame and was -lying on the floor. Paul picked it up stealthily so that Bernard should -not see the inscription engraved upon it.</p> - -<p>But, while he was examining the panel more attentively after Bernard had -unfastened the other shutter, he gave an exclamation.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?" asked Bernard.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>"There . . . look . . . that signature on the wall . . . where the -picture was: a signature and a date."</p> - -<p>It was written in pencil; two lines across the white plaster, at a man's -height. The date, "Wednesday evening, 16 September, 1914," followed by -the signature: "Major Hermann."</p> - -<p>Major Hermann! Even before Paul was aware of it, his eyes had seized -upon a detail in which all the significance of those two lines of -writing was concentrated; and, while Bernard came forward to look in his -turn, he muttered, in boundless surprise:</p> - -<p>"Hermann! . . . Hermine! . . ."</p> - -<p>The two words were almost alike. Hermine began with the same letters as -the Christian or surname which the major had written, after his rank, on -the wall. Major Hermann! The Comtesse Hermine! H, E, R, M: The four -letters on the dagger with which Paul had nearly been killed! H, E, R, -M: the four letters on the dagger of the spy whom he had captured in the -church-steeple!</p> - -<p>Bernard said:</p> - -<p>"It looks to me like a woman's writing. But, if so. . . ." And he -continued thoughtfully, "If so . . . what conclusion are we to draw? -Either the peasant-woman and Major Hermann are one and the same person, -which means that the peasant-woman is a man or that the major is not, or -else we are dealing with two distinct persons, a woman and a man. I -believe that is how it is, in spite of the uncanny resemblance between -that man and that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> woman. For, after all, how can we suppose that the -same person can have written this signature yesterday evening, passed -through the French lines and spoken to me at Corvigny disguised as a -peasant-woman . . . and then be able to return here, disguised as a -German major, blow up the house, take to flight and, after killing some -of his own soldiers, make his escape in a motor-car?"</p> - -<p>Paul, absorbed by his thoughts, did not answer. Presently he went into -the adjoining room, which separated the boudoir from the set of rooms -which his wife had occupied. Of these nothing remained except debris. -But the room in between had not suffered so very much; and it was very -easy to see, by the wash-hand-stand and the condition of the bed, that -it was used as a bedroom and that some one had slept in it the night -before.</p> - -<p>On the table Paul found some German newspapers and a French one, dated -10 September, in which the <i>communiqué</i> telling of the great victory of -the Marne was struck out with two great dashes in red pencil and -annotated with the word "Lies!" followed by the initial H.</p> - -<p>"We're in Major Hermann's room right enough," said Paul to Bernard.</p> - -<p>"And Major Hermann," Bernard declared, "burnt some compromising papers -last night. Look at that heap of ashes in the fire-place." He stooped -and picked up a few envelopes, a few half-burnt sheets of paper -containing consecutive words, nothing but in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>coherent sentences. On -turning his eyes to the bed, however, he saw under the bolster a parcel -of clothes hidden or perhaps forgotten in the hurry of departure. He -pulled them out and at once cried: "I say, just look at this!"</p> - -<p>"At what?" asked Paul, who was searching another part of the room.</p> - -<p>"These clothes, look, peasant clothes, the clothes I saw on the woman at -Corvigny. There's no mistaking them: they are the same brown color and -the same sort of serge stuff. And then here's the black-lace scarf which -I told you about. . . ."</p> - -<p>"What's that?" exclaimed Paul, running up to him.</p> - -<p>"Here, see for yourself, it's a scarf of sorts and not one of the -newest, either. How worn and torn it is! And the brooch I described to -you is still in it. Do you see?"</p> - -<p>Paul had noticed the brooch at once with the greatest horror. What a -terrible significance it lent to the discovery of the clothes in the -room occupied by Major Hermann, the room next to Hermine d'Andeville's -boudoir! The cameo was carved with a swan with its wings outspread and -was set in a gold snake with ruby eyes. Paul had known that cameo since -his early boyhood, from seeing it in the dress of the woman who killed -his father, and he knew it also because he had seen it again, with every -smallest detail reproduced, in the Comtesse Hermine's portrait. And now -he was finding the actual brooch, stuck in the black-lace scarf among -the Corvigny peasant-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>woman's clothes and left behind in Major Hermann's -room!</p> - -<p>"This completes the evidence," said Bernard. "The fact that the clothes -are here proves that the woman who asked me about you came back here -last night; but what is the connection between her and that officer who -is her living likeness? Is the person who questioned me about you the -same as the individual who ordered Élisabeth to be shot two hours -earlier? And who are these people? What band of murderers and spies have -we run up against?"</p> - -<p>"They are simply Germans," was Paul's reply. "To them spying and -murdering are natural and permissible forms of warfare . . . in a war, -mark you, which they began and are carrying on in the midst of a -perfectly peaceful period. I have told you so before, Bernard: we have -been the victims of war for nearly twenty years. My father's murder -opened the tragedy. And to-day we are mourning our poor Élisabeth. And -that is not the end of it."</p> - -<p>"Still," said Bernard, "he has taken to flight."</p> - -<p>"We shall see him again, be sure of that. If he doesn't come back, I -will go and find him. And, when that day comes. . . ."</p> - -<p>There were two easy-chairs in the room. Paul and Bernard resolved to -spend the night there and, without further delay, wrote their names on -the wall of the passage. Then Paul went back to his men, in order to see -that they were comfortably settled in the barns and out-houses that -remained standing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> Here the soldier who served as his orderly, a decent -Auvergnat called Gériflour, told him that he had dug out two pairs of -sheets and a couple of clean mattresses from a little house next to the -guard-room and that the beds were ready. Paul accepted the offer for -Bernard and himself. It was arranged that Gériflour and one of his -companions should go to the château and sleep in the two easy-chairs.</p> - -<p>The night passed without any alarm. It was a feverish and sleepless -night for Paul, who was haunted by the thought of Élisabeth. In the -morning he fell into a heavy slumber, disturbed by nightmares. The -reveille woke him with a start. Bernard was waiting for him.</p> - -<p>The roll was called in the courtyard of the château. Paul noticed that -his orderly, Gériflour, and the other man were missing.</p> - -<p>"They must be asleep," he said to Bernard. "Let's go and shake them -awake."</p> - -<p>They went back, through the ruins, to the first floor and along the -demolished bedroom. In the room which Major Hermann had occupied they -found Private Gériflour, huddled on the bed, covered with blood, dead. -His friend was lying back in one of the chairs, also dead. There was no -disorder, no trace of a struggle around the bodies. The two soldiers -must have been killed in their sleep.</p> - -<p>Paul at once saw the weapon with which they had been murdered. It was a -dagger with the letters H, E, R, M. on the handle.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /> -<span class="smalltext">ÉLISABETH'S DIARY</span></h2> - - -<p>This double murder, following upon a series of tragic incidents all of -which were closely connected, was the climax to such an accumulation of -horrors and of shocking disasters that the two young men did not utter a -word or stir a limb. Death, whose breath they had already felt so often -on the battlefield, had never appeared to them under a more hateful or -forbidding guise.</p> - -<p>Death! They beheld it, not as an insidious disease that strikes at -hazard, but as a specter creeping in the shadow, watching its adversary, -choosing its moment and raising its arm with deliberate intention. And -this specter bore for them the very shape and features of Major Hermann.</p> - -<p>When Paul spoke at last, his voice had the dull, scared tone that seems -to summon up the evil powers of darkness:</p> - -<p>"He came last night. He came and, as we had written our names on the -wall, the names of Bernard d'Andeville and Paul Delroze which represent -the names of two enemies in his eyes, he took the opportunity to rid -himself of those two enemies. Per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>suaded that it was you and I who were -sleeping in this room, he struck . . . and those whom he struck were -poor Gériflour and his friend, who have died in our stead."</p> - -<p>After a long pause, he whispered:</p> - -<p>"They have died as my father died . . . and as Élisabeth died . . . and -the keeper also and his wife; and by the same hand, by the same hand, -Bernard, do you understand? . . . Yes, it's inadmissible, is it not? My -brain refuses to admit it. . . . And yet it is always the same hand that -holds the dagger . . . then and now."</p> - -<p>Bernard examined the dagger. At the sight of the four letters, he said:</p> - -<p>"That stands for Hermann, I suppose? Major Hermann?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Paul, eagerly. "Is it his real name, though? And who is he -actually? I don't know. But what I do know is that the criminal who -committed all those murders is the same who signs with these four -letters, H, E, R, M."</p> - -<p>After giving the alarm to the men of his section and sending to inform -the chaplain and the surgeons, Paul resolved to ask for a private -interview with his colonel and to tell him the whole of the secret -story, hoping that it might throw some light on the execution of -Élisabeth and the assassination of the two soldiers. But he learnt that -the colonel and his regiment were fighting on the other side of the -frontier and that the 3rd Company had been hurriedly sent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> for, all but -a detachment which was to remain at the château under Sergeant Delroze's -orders. Paul therefore made his own investigation with his men.</p> - -<p>It yielded nothing. There was no possibility of discovering the least -clue to the manner in which the murderer had made his way first into the -park, next into the ruins and lastly into the bedroom. As no civilian -had passed, were they to conclude that the perpetrator of the two crimes -was one of the privates of the 3rd company? Obviously not. And yet what -other theory was there to adopt?</p> - -<p>Nor did Paul discover anything to tell him of his wife's death or of the -place where she was buried. And this was the hardest trial of all.</p> - -<p>He encountered the same ignorance among the German wounded as among the -prisoners. They had all heard of the execution of a man and two women, -but they had all arrived after the execution and after the departure of -the troops that occupied the château.</p> - -<p>He went on to the village, thinking that they might know something -there; that the inhabitants had some news to tell of the lady of the -château, of the life she led, of her martyrdom and death. But Ornequin -was empty, with not a woman even, not an old man left in it. The enemy -must have sent all the inhabitants into Germany, doubtless from the -start, with the manifest object of destroying every witness to his -actions during the occupation and of creating a desert around the -château.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>Paul in this way devoted three days to the pursuit of fruitless -inquiries.</p> - -<p>"And yet," he said to Bernard, "Élisabeth cannot have disappeared -entirely. Even if I cannot find her grave, can I not find the least -trace of her existence? She lived here. She suffered here. I would give -anything for a relic of her."</p> - -<p>They had succeeded in fixing upon the exact site of the room in which -she used to sleep and even, in the midst of the ruins, the exact heap of -stones and plaster that remained of it. It was all mixed up with the -wreckage of the ground-floor rooms, into which the first-floor ceilings -had been precipitated; and it was in this chaos, under the pile of walls -and furniture reduced to dust and fragments, that one morning he picked -up a little broken mirror, followed by a tortoise-shell hair-brush, a -silver pen-knife and a set of scissors, all of which had belonged to -Élisabeth.</p> - -<p>But what affected him even more was the discovery of a thick diary, in -which he knew that his wife, before her marriage, used to note down her -expenses, the errands or visits that had to be remembered and, -occasionally, some more private details of her life. Now all that was -left of her diary was the binding, with the date, 1914, and the part -containing the entries for the first seven months of the year. All the -sheets for the last five months had been not torn out but removed -separately from the strings that fastened them to the binding.</p> - -<p>Paul at once thought to himself:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>"They were removed by Élisabeth, removed at her leisure, at a time when -there was no hurry and when she merely wished to use those pages for -writing on from day to day. What would she want to write? Just those -more personal notes which she used formerly to put down in her diary -between the entry of a disbursement and a receipt. And as there can have -been no accounts to keep since my departure and as her existence was -nothing but a hideous tragedy, there is no doubt that she confided her -distress to those pages, her complaints, possibly her shrinking from -me."</p> - -<p>That day, in Bernard's absence, Paul increased the thoroughness of his -search. He rummaged under every stone and in every hole. The broken -slabs of marble, the twisted lustres, the torn carpets, the beams -blackened by the flames, he lifted them all. He persisted for hours. He -divided the ruins into sections which he examined patiently in rotation; -and, when the ruins refused to answer his questions, he renewed his -minute investigations in the ground.</p> - -<p>His efforts were useless; and Paul knew that they were bound to be so. -Élisabeth must have attached far too much value to those pages not to -have either destroyed them or hidden them beyond the possibility of -discovery. Unless:</p> - -<p>"Unless," he said to himself, "they have been stolen from her. The major -must have kept a constant watch upon her. And, in that case, who knows?"</p> - -<p>An idea occurred to Paul's mind. After finding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> the peasant-woman's -clothes and black lace scarf, he had left them on the bed, attaching no -further importance to them; and he now asked himself if the major, on -the night when he had murdered the two soldiers, had not come with the -intention of fetching away the clothes, or at least the contents of -their pockets, which he had not been able to do because they were hidden -under Private Gériflour, who was sleeping on the top of them. Now Paul -seemed to remember that, when unfolding that peasant's skirt and bodice, -he had noticed a rustling of paper in one of the pockets. Was it not -reasonable to conclude that this was Élisabeth's diary, which had been -discovered and stolen by Major Hermann?</p> - -<p>Paul hastened to the room in which the murders had been committed, -snatched up the clothes and looked through them:</p> - -<p>"Ah," he at once exclaimed, with genuine delight, "here they are!"</p> - -<p>There was a large, yellow envelope filled with the pages removed from -the diary. These were crumpled and here and there torn; and Paul saw at -a glance that the pages corresponded only with the months of August and -September and that even some days in each of these months were missing.</p> - -<p>And he saw Élisabeth's handwriting.</p> - -<p>It was not a full or detailed diary. It consisted merely of notes, poor -little notes in which a bruised heart found an outlet. At times, when -they ran to greater length, an extra page had been added. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> notes had -been jotted down by day or night, anyhow, in ink and pencil; they were -sometimes hardly legible; and they gave the impression of a trembling -hand, of eyes veiled with tears and of a mind crazed with suffering.</p> - -<p>Paul was moved to the very depths of his being. He was alone and he -read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="date">"<i>Sunday, 2 August.</i></p> - -<p>"He ought not to have written me that letter. It is -too cruel. And why does he suggest that I should leave -Ornequin? The war? Does he think that, because there -is a chance of war, I shall not have the courage to -stay here and do my duty? How little he knows me! Then -he must either think me a coward or believe me capable -of suspecting my poor mother! . . . Paul, dear Paul, -you ought not to have left me. . . .</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Monday, 3 August.</i></p> - -<p>"Jérôme and Rosalie have been kinder and more -thoughtful than ever, now that the servants are gone. -Rosalie begged and prayed that I should go away, too.</p> - -<p>"'And what about yourselves, Rosalie?' I said. 'Will -you go?'</p> - -<p>"'Oh, we're people who don't matter, we have nothing -to fear! Besides, our place is here.'</p> - -<p>"I said that so was mine; but I saw that she could not -understand.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>"Jérôme, when I meet him, shakes his head and looks at -me sadly.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Tuesday, 4 August.</i></p> - -<p>"I have not the least doubt of what my duty is. I -would rather die than turn my back on it. But how am I -to fulfil that duty and get at the truth? I am full of -courage; and yet I am always crying, as though I had -nothing better to do. The fact is that I am always -thinking of Paul. Where is he? What has become of him? -When Jérôme told me this morning that war was -declared, I thought that I should faint. So Paul is -going to fight. He will be wounded perhaps. He may be -killed. God knows if my true place is not somewhere -near him, in a town close to where he is fighting! -What have I to hope for in staying here? My duty to my -mother, yes, I know. Ah, mother, I beseech your -forgiveness . . . but, you see, I love my husband and -I am so afraid of anything happening to him! . . .</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Thursday, 6 August.</i></p> - -<p>"Still crying. I grow unhappier every day. But I feel -that, even if I became still more so, I would not -desist. Besides, how can I go to him when he does not -want to have anything more to do with me and does not -even write? Love me? Why, he loathes me! I am the -daughter of a woman whom he hates above all things in -the world. How unspeakably horrible! If he thinks like -that of my mother and if I fail in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> my task, we shall -never see each other again! That is the life I have -before me.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Friday, 7 August.</i></p> - -<p>"I have made Jérôme and Rosalie tell me all about -mother. They only knew her for a few weeks, but they -remember her quite well; and what they said made me -feel so happy! She was so good, it seems, and so -pretty; everybody worshiped her.</p> - -<p>"'She was not always very cheerful,' said Rosalie. 'I -don't know if it was her illness already affecting her -spirits, but there was something about her, when she -smiled, that went to one's heart.'</p> - -<p>"My poor, darling mother!</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Saturday, 8 August.</i></p> - -<p>"We heard the guns this morning, a long way off. They -are fighting 25 miles away.</p> - -<p>"Some French soldiers have arrived. I had seen some of -them pretty often from the terrace, marching down the -Liseron Valley. But these are going to stay at the -house. The captain made his apologies. So as not to -inconvenience me, he and his lieutenants will sleep -and have their meals in the lodge where Jérôme and -Rosalie used to live.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Sunday, 9 August.</i></p> - -<p>"Still no news of Paul. I have given up trying to -write to him either. I don't want him to hear from me -until I have all the proofs. But what am I to do?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> How -can I get proofs of something that happened seventeen -years ago? Hunt about, think and reflect as I may, I -can find nothing.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Monday, 10 August.</i></p> - -<p>"The guns never ceased booming in the distance. -Nevertheless, the captain tells me that there is -nothing to make one expect an attack by the enemy on -this side.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Tuesday, 11 August.</i></p> - -<p>"A sentry posted in the woods, near the little door -leading out of the estate, has just been -killed—stabbed with a knife. They think that he must -have been trying to stop a man who wanted to get out -of the park. But how did the man get in?</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Wednesday, 12 August.</i></p> - -<p>"What can be happening? Here is something that has -made a great impression on me and seems impossible to -understand. There are other things besides which are -just as perplexing, though I can't say why. I am much -astonished that the captain and all his soldiers whom -I meet appear so indifferent and should even be able -to make jokes among themselves. I feel the sort of -depression that comes over one when a storm is at -hand. There must be something wrong with my nerves.</p> - -<p class="enddiary">"Well, this morning. . . ."</p></div> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>Paul stopped reading. The lower portion of the page containing the last -few lines and the whole of the next page were torn out. It looked as if -the major, after stealing Élisabeth's diary, had, for reasons best known -to himself, removed the pages in which she set forth a certain incident.</p> - -<p>The diary continued:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="date">"<i>Friday, 14 August.</i></p> - -<p>"I felt I must tell the captain. I took him to the -dead tree covered with ivy and asked him to lie down -on the ground and listen. He did so very patiently and -attentively. But he heard nothing and ended by saying:</p> - -<p>"'You see, madame, that everything is absolutely -normal.'</p> - -<p>"'I assure you,' I answered, 'that two days ago there -was a confused sound from this tree, just at this -spot. And it lasted for several minutes.'</p> - -<p>"He replied, smiling as he spoke:</p> - -<p>"'We could easily have the tree cut down. But don't -you think, madame, that in the state of nervous -tension in which we all are we are liable to make -mistakes; that we are subject to hallucinations? For, -after all, where could the sound come from?'</p> - -<p>"Of course, he was right. And yet I had heard and seen -for myself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>. . . .</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Saturday, 15 August.</i></p> - -<p>"Yesterday, two German officers were brought in and -were locked up in the wash-house, at the end of the -yard. This morning, there was nothing in the -wash-house but their uniforms. One can understand -their breaking open the door. But the captain has -found out that they made their escape in French -uniforms and that they passed the sentries, saying -that they had been sent to Corvigny.</p> - -<p>"Who can have supplied them with those uniforms? -Besides, they had to know the password: who can have -given them that?</p> - -<p>"It appears that a peasant woman called several days -in succession with eggs and milk, a woman rather too -well-dressed for her station, and that she hasn't been -here to-day. But there is nothing to prove her -complicity.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Sunday, 16 August.</i></p> - -<p>"The captain has been strongly urging me to go away. -He is no longer cheerful. He seems very much -preoccupied:</p> - -<p>"'We are surrounded by spies,' he said. 'And there is -every sign of the possibility of a speedy attack. Not -a big attack, intended to force a way through to -Corvigny, but an attempt to take the château by -surprise. It is my duty to warn you, madame, that we -may be compelled at any moment to fall back on -Corvigny and that it would be most imprudent for you -to stay.'</p> - -<p class="enddiary"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>"I answered that nothing would change my resolution. -Jérôme and Rosalie also implored me to leave. But what -is the good? I intend to remain."</p></div> - -<p>Once again Paul stopped. There was a page missing in this section of the -diary; and the next page, the one headed 18 August, was torn at the top -and the bottom and contained only a fragment of what Élisabeth had -written on that day:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="interrupt">". . . and that is why I have not spoken of it in the -letter which I have just sent to Paul. He will know -that I am staying on and the reasons for my decision; -but he must not know of my hopes.</p> - -<p class="enddiary">"Those hopes are still so vague and built on so -insignificant a detail. Still, I feel overjoyed. I do -not realize the meaning of that detail, but I feel its -importance. The captain is hurrying about, increasing -the patrols; the soldiers are polishing their arms and -crying out for the battle; the enemy may be taking up -his quarters at Èbrecourt, as they say: what do I -care? I have only one thought: have I found the key? -Am I on the right road? Let me think. . . ."</p></div> - -<p>The page was torn here, at the place where Élisabeth was about to -explain things exactly. Was this a precautionary measure on Major -Hermann's part? No doubt; but why?</p> - -<p>The first part of the page headed 19 August was likewise torn. The -nineteenth was the day before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> t on which the Germans had carried -Ornequin, Corvigny and the whole district by assault. What had Élisabeth -written on that Wednesday afternoon? What had she discovered? What was -preparing in the darkness?</p> - -<p>Paul felt a dread at his heart. He remembered that the first gunshot had -thundered over Corvigny at two o'clock in the morning on Thursday and it -was with an anxious mind that he read, on the second half of the page:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="date">"<i>11 p. m.</i></p> - -<p>"I have got up and opened my window. Dogs are barking -on every side. They answer one another, stop, seem to -be listening and then begin howling again as I have -never heard them do before. When they cease, the -silence becomes impressive and I listen in my turn to -try and catch the indistinct sounds that keep them -awake.</p> - -<p>"Those sounds seem to my ears also to exist. It is -something different from the rustling of the leaves. -It has nothing to do with the ordinary interruption to -the dead silence of the night. It comes from I can't -tell where; and the impression it makes on me is so -powerful that I ask myself at the same time whether I -am just listening to the beating of my heart or -whether I am hearing what might be the distant tramp -of a marching army.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I must be mad! A marching army! And our outposts -on the frontier? And our sentries all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> around the -château? Why, there would be fighting, firing! . . .</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>1 a. m.</i></p> - -<p>"I did not stir from the window. The dogs were no -longer barking. Everything was asleep. And suddenly I -saw some one come from under the trees and go across -the lawn. I at first imagined it was one of our -soldiers. But, when whoever it was passed under my -window, there was just enough light in the sky for me -to make out a woman's figure. I thought for a moment -of Rosalie. But no, the figure was taller and moved -with a lighter and quicker step.</p> - -<p>"I was on the point of waking Jérôme and giving the -alarm. I did not, however. The figure had disappeared -in the direction of the terrace. And all at once there -came the cry of a bird, which struck me as strange. -This was followed by a light that darted into the sky, -like a shooting star springing from the ground.</p> - -<p class="enddiary">"After that, nothing. Silence, general restfulness. -Nothing more. And yet I dare not go back to bed. I am -frightened, without knowing why. All sorts of dangers -seem to come rushing from every corner of the horizon. -They draw closer, they surround me, they hem me in, -they suffocate me, crush me, I can't breathe. I'm -frightened . . . I'm frightened. . . ."</p></div> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br /> -<span class="smalltext">A SPRIG OF EMPIRE</span></h2> - - -<p>Paul clutched with convulsive fingers the heart-breaking diary to which -Élisabeth had confided her anguish:</p> - -<p>"The poor angel!" he thought. "What she must have gone through! And this -is only the beginning of the road that led to her death. . . ."</p> - -<p>He dreaded reading on. The hours of torture were near at hand, menacing -and implacable, and he would have liked to call out to Élisabeth:</p> - -<p>"Go away, go away! Don't defy Fate! I have forgotten the past. I love -you."</p> - -<p>It was too late. He himself, through his cruelty, had condemned her to -suffer; and he must go on to the bitter end and witness every station of -the Calvary of which he knew the last, terrifying stage.</p> - -<p>He hastily turned the pages. There were first three blank leaves, those -dated 20, 21 and 22 August: days of confusion during which she had been -unable to write. The pages of the 23rd and 24th were missing. These no -doubt recounted what had happened and contained revelations concerning -the inexplicable invasion.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>The diary began again at the middle of a torn page, the page belonging -to Tuesday the 25th:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="interrupt">"'Yes, Rosalie, I feel quite well and I thank you for -looking after me so attentively.'</p> - -<p>"'Then there's no more fever?'</p> - -<p>"'No, Rosalie, it's gone.'</p> - -<p>"'You said the same thing yesterday, ma'am, and the -fever came back . . . perhaps because of that visit. -. . . But the visit won't be to-day . . . it's not -till to-morrow. . . . I was told to let you know, -ma'am. . . . At 5 o'clock to-morrow. . . .'</p> - -<p>"I made no answer. What is the use of rebelling? None -of the humiliating words that I shall have to hear -will hurt me more than what lies before my eyes: the -lawn invaded, horses picketed all over it, baggage -wagons and caissons in the walks, half the trees -felled, officers sprawling on the grass, drinking and -singing, and a German flag flapping from the balcony -of my window, just in front of me. Oh, the wretches!</p> - -<p>"I close my eyes so as not to see. And that makes it -more horrible still. . . . Oh, the memory of that -night . . . and, in the morning, when the sun rose, -the sight of all those dead bodies! Some of the poor -fellows were still alive, with those monsters dancing -round them; and I could hear the cries of the dying -men asking to be put out of their misery.</p> - -<p>"And then. . . . But I won't think of it or think of -anything that can destroy my courage and my hope<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>. -. . .</p> - -<p>"Paul, I always have you in my mind as I write my -diary. Something tells me that you will read it if -anything happens to me; and so I must have strength to -go on with it and to keep you informed from day to -day. Perhaps you can already understand from my story -what to me still seems very obscure. What is the -connection between the past and the present, between -the murder of long ago and the incomprehensible attack -of the other night? I don't know. I have told you the -facts in detail and also my theories. You will draw -your conclusions and follow up the truth to the end.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Wednesday, 26 August.</i></p> - -<p>"There is a great deal of noise in the château. People -are moving about everywhere, especially in the rooms -above my bedroom. An hour ago, half a dozen motor vans -and the same number of motor cars drove onto the lawn. -The vans were empty. Two or three ladies sprang out of -each of the cars, German women, waving their hands and -laughing noisily. The officers ran up to welcome them; -and there were loud expressions of delight. Then they -all went to the house. What do they want?</p> - -<p>"But I hear footsteps in the passage. . . . It is 5 -o'clock. . . . Somebody is knocking at the door. . . .</p> - -<hr class="thin" /> - -<p>"There were five of them: he first and four officers -who kept bowing to him obsequiously. He said to them, -in a formal tone:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>"'Attention, gentlemen. . . . I order you not to touch -anything in this room or in the other rooms reserved -for madame. As for the rest, except in the two big -drawing-rooms, it is yours. Keep anything here that -you want and take away what you please. It is war and -the law of war.'</p> - -<p>"He pronounced those words, 'The law of war,' in a -tone of fatuous conviction and repeated:</p> - -<p>"'As for madame's private apartments, not a thing is -to be moved. Do you understand? I know what is -becoming.'</p> - -<p>"He looked at me as though to say:</p> - -<p>"'What do you think of that? There's chivalry for you! -I could take it all, if I liked; but I'm a German and, -as such, I know what's becoming.'</p> - -<p>"He seemed to expect me to thank him. I said:</p> - -<p>"'Is this the pillage beginning? That explains the -empty motor vans.'</p> - -<p>"'You don't pillage what belongs to you by the law of -war,' he answered.</p> - -<p>"'I see. And the law of war does not extend to the -furniture and pictures in the drawing-rooms?'</p> - -<p>"He turned crimson. Then I began to laugh:</p> - -<p>"'I follow you,' I said. 'That's your share. Well -chosen. Nothing but rare and valuable things. The -refuse your servants can divide among them.'</p> - -<p>"The officers turned round furiously. He became redder -still. He had a face that was quite round, hair, which -was too light, plastered down with grease and divided -in the middle by a faultless parting. His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> forehead -was low; and I was able to guess the effort going on -behind it, to find a repartee. At last he came up to -me and, in a voice of triumph, said:</p> - -<p>"'The French have been beaten at Charleroi, beaten at -Morange, beaten everywhere. They are retreating all -along the line. The upshot of the war is settled.'</p> - -<p>"Violent though my grief was, I did not wince. I -whispered:</p> - -<p>"'You low blackguard!'</p> - -<p>"He staggered. His companions caught what I said; and -I saw one put his hand on his sword-hilt. But what -would he himself do? What would he say? I could feel -that he was greatly embarrassed and that I had wounded -his self-esteem.</p> - -<p>"'Madame,' he said, 'I daresay you don't know who I -am?'</p> - -<p>"'Oh, yes!' I answered. 'You are Prince Conrad, a son -of the Kaiser's. And what then?'</p> - -<p>"He made a fresh attempt at dignity. He drew himself -up. I expected threats and words to express his anger; -but no, his reply was a burst of laughter, the -affected laughter of a high and mighty lord, too -indifferent, too disdainful to take offense, too -intelligent to lose his temper.</p> - -<p>"'The dear little Frenchwoman! Isn't she charming, -gentlemen? Did you hear what she said? The -impertinence of her! There's your true Parisian, -gentlemen, with all her roguish grace.'</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>"And, making me a great bow, with not another word, he -stalked away, joking as he went:</p> - -<p>"'Such a dear little Frenchwoman! Ah, gentlemen, those -little Frenchwomen! . . .'</p> - -<hr class="thin" /> - -<p>"The vans were at work all day, going off to the -frontier laden with booty. It was my poor father's -wedding present to us, all his collections so -patiently and fondly brought together; it was the dear -setting in which Paul and I were to have lived. What a -wrench the parting means to me!</p> - -<p>"The war news is bad! I cried a great deal during the -day.</p> - -<p class="enddiary">"Prince Conrad came. I had to receive him, for he sent -me word by Rosalie that, if I refused to see him, the -inhabitants of Ornequin would suffer the -consequences."</p></div> - -<p>Here Élisabeth again broke off her diary. Two days later, on the 29th, -she went on:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="interrupt">"He came yesterday. To-day also. He tries to appear -witty and cultured. He talks literature and music, -Goethe, Wagner and so on. . . . I leave him to do his -own talking, however; and this throws him in such a -state of fury that he ended by exclaiming:</p> - -<p>"'Can't you answer? It's no disgrace, even for a -Frenchwoman, to talk to Prince Conrad of Prussia!'</p> - -<p>"'A woman doesn't talk to her gaoler.'</p> - -<p>"He protested briskly:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>"'But, dash it all, you're not in prison!'</p> - -<p>"'Can I leave the château?'</p> - -<p>"'You can walk about . . . in the grounds. . . .'</p> - -<p>"'Between four walls, therefore, like a prisoner.'</p> - -<p>"'Well, what do you want to do?'</p> - -<p>"'To go away from here and live . . . wherever you -tell me to: at Corvigny, for instance.'</p> - -<p>"'That is to say, away from me!'</p> - -<p>"As I did not answer, he bent forward a little and -continued, in a low voice:</p> - -<p>"'You hate me, don't you? Oh, I'm quite aware of it! -I've made a study of women. Only, it's Prince Conrad -whom you hate, isn't it? It's the German, the -conqueror. For, after all, there's no reason why you -should dislike the man himself. . . . And, at this -moment, it's the man who is in question, who is trying -to please you . . . do you understand? . . . So. -. . .'</p> - -<p class="enddiary">"I had risen to my feet and faced him. I did not speak -a single word; but he must have seen in my eyes so -great an expression of disgust that he stopped in the -middle of his sentence, looking absolutely stupid. -Then, his nature getting the better of him, he shook -his fist at me, like a common fellow, and went off -slamming the door and muttering threats. . . ."</p></div> - -<p>The next two pages of the diary were missing. Paul was gray in the face. -He had never suffered to such an extent as this. It seemed to him as -though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> his poor dear Élisabeth were still alive before his eyes and -feeling his eyes upon her. And nothing could have upset him more than -the cry of distress and love which marked the page headed:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="date"><i>1 September.</i></p> - -<p class="enddiary">"Paul, my own Paul, have no fear. Yes, I tore up those -two pages because I did not wish you ever to know such -revolting things. But that will not estrange you from -me, will it? Because a savage dared to insult me, that -is no reason, surely, why I should not be worthy of -your love? Oh, the things he said to me, Paul, only -yesterday: his offensive remarks, his hateful threats, -his even more infamous promises . . . and then his -rage! . . . No, I will not repeat them to you. In -making a confidant of this diary, I meant to confide -to you my daily acts and thoughts. I believed that I -was only writing down the evidence of my grief. But -this is something different; and I have not the -courage. . . . Forgive my silence. It will be enough -for you to know the offense, so that you may avenge me -later. Ask me no more. . . ."</p></div> - -<p>And, pursuing this intention, Élisabeth now ceased to describe Prince -Conrad's daily visits in detail; but it was easy to perceive from her -narrative that the enemy persisted in hovering round her. It consisted -of brief notes in which she no longer let herself go as before, notes -which she jotted down at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> random, marking the days herself, without -troubling about the printed headings.</p> - -<p>Paul trembled as he read on. And fresh revelations aggravated his dread:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="date">"<i>Thursday.</i></p> - -<p>"Rosalie asks them the news every morning. The French -retreat is continuing. They even say that it has -developed into a rout and that Paris has been -abandoned. The government has fled. We are done for.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Seven o'clock in the evening.</i></p> - -<p>"He is walking under my windows as usual. He has with -him a woman whom I have already seen many times at a -distance and who always wears a great peasant's cloak -and a lace scarf which hides her face. But, as a rule, -when he walks on the lawn he is accompanied by an -officer whom they call the major. This man also keeps -his head concealed, by turning up the collar of his -gray cloak.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Friday.</i></p> - -<p>"The soldiers are dancing on the lawn, while their -band plays German national hymns and the bells of -Ornequin are kept ringing with all their might. They -are celebrating the entrance of their troops into -Paris. It must be true, I fear! Their joy is the best -proof of the truth.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Saturday.</i></p> - -<p>"Between my rooms and the boudoir where moth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>er's -portrait used to hang is the room that was mother's -bedroom. This is now occupied by the major. He is an -intimate friend of the prince and an important person, -so they say. The soldiers know him only as Major -Hermann. He does not humble himself in the prince's -presence as the other officers do. On the contrary, he -seems to address him with a certain familiarity.</p> - -<p>"At this minute they are walking side by side on the -gravel path. The prince is leaning on Major Hermann's -arm. I feel sure that they are talking about me and -that they are not at one. It looks almost as if Major -Hermann were angry.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Ten o'clock in the morning.</i></p> - -<p>"I was right. Rosalie tells me that they had a violent -scene.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Tuesday, 8 September.</i></p> - -<p>"There is something strange in the behavior of all of -them. The prince, the major and the other officers -appear to be nervous about something. The soldiers -have ceased singing. There are sounds of quarreling. -Can things be turning in our favor?"</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Thursday.</i></p> - -<p>"The excitement is increasing. It seems that couriers -keep on arriving at every moment. The officers have -sent part of their baggage into Germany. I am full of -hope. But, on the other hand. . . .</p> - -<p>"Oh, my dear Paul, if you knew the torture those -visits cause me! . . . He is no longer the bland<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> and -honey-mouthed man of the early days. He has thrown off -the mask. . . . But, no, no, I will not speak of that! -. . .</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Friday.</i></p> - -<p>"The whole of the village of Ornequin has been packed -off to Germany. They don't want a single witness to -remain of what happened during the awful night which I -described to you.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Sunday evening.</i></p> - -<p>"They are defeated and retreating far from Paris. He -confessed as much, grinding his teeth and uttering -threats against me as he spoke. I am the hostage on -whom they are revenging themselves. . . .</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Tuesday.</i></p> - -<p>"Paul, if ever you meet him in battle, kill him like a -dog. But do those people fight? Oh, I don't know what -I'm saying! My head is going round and round. Why did -I stay here? You ought to have taken me away, Paul, by -force. . . .</p> - -<p>"Paul, what do you think he has planned? Oh, the -dastard! They have kept twelve of the Ornequin -villagers as hostages; and it is I, it is I who am -responsible for their lives! . . . Do you understand -the horror of it? They will live, or they will be -shot, one by one, according to my behavior. . . . The -thing seems too infamous to believe. Is he only trying -to frighten me? Oh, the shamefulness of such a threat! -What a hell to find one's self in! I would rather -die. . . .</p> - - -<p class="date"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>"<i>Nine o'clock in the evening.</i></p> - -<p>"Die? No! Why should I die? Rosalie has been. Her -husband has come to an understanding with one of the -sentries who will be on duty to-night at the little -door in the wall, beyond the chapel. Rosalie is to -wake me up at three in the morning and we shall run -away to the big wood, where Jérôme knows of an -inaccessible shelter. Heavens, if we can only succeed! -. . .</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Eleven o'clock.</i></p> - -<p>"What has happened? Why have I got up? It's only a -nightmare. I am sure of that; and yet I am shaking -with fever and hardly able to write. . . . And why am -I afraid to drink the glass of water by my bedside, as -I am accustomed to do when I cannot sleep?</p> - -<p>"Oh, such an abominable nightmare! How shall I ever -forget what I saw while I slept? For I was asleep, -that is certain. I had lain down to get a little rest -before running away; and I saw that woman's ghost in a -dream. . . . A ghost? It must have been one, for only -ghosts can enter through a bolted door; and her steps -made so little noise as she crept over the floor that -I scarcely heard the faintest rustling of her skirt.</p> - -<p>"What had she come to do? By the glimmer of my -night-light I saw her go round the table and walk up -to my bed, cautiously, with her head lost in the -darkness of the room. I was so frightened that I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> -closed my eyes, in order that she might believe me to -be asleep. But the feeling of her very presence and -approach increased within me; and I was able clearly -to follow all her doings. She stooped over me and -looked at me for a long time, as though she did not -know me and wanted to study my face. How was it that -she did not hear the frantic beating of my heart? I -could hear hers and also the regular movement of her -breath. The agony I went through! Who was the woman? -What was her object?</p> - -<p>"She ceased her scrutiny and went away, but not very -far. Through my eyelids I could half see her bending -beside me, occupied in some silent task; and at last I -became so certain that she was no longer watching me -that I gradually yielded to the temptation to open my -eyes. I wanted, if only for a second, to see her face -and what she was doing.</p> - -<p>"I looked; and Heaven only knows by what miracle I had -the strength to keep back the cry that tried to force -its way through my lips! The woman who stood there and -whose features I was able to make out plainly by the -light of the night-light was. . . .</p> - -<p>"Ah, I can't write anything so blasphemous! If the -woman had been beside me, kneeling down, praying, and -I had seen a gentle face smiling through its tears, I -should not have trembled before that unexpected vision -of the dead. But this distorted, fierce, infernal -expression, hideous with hatred and wickedness: no -sight in the world could have filled me with greater -terror. And it is perhaps for this reason,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> because -the sight was so extravagant and unnatural, that I did -not cry out and that I am now almost calm. <i>At the -moment when my eyes saw, I understood that I was the -victim of a nightmare.</i></p> - -<p>"Mother, mother, you never wore and you never can wear -that expression. You were kind and gentle, were you -not? You used to smile; and, if you were still alive, -you would now be wearing that same kind and gentle -look? Mother, darling, since the terrible night when -Paul recognized your portrait, I have often been back -to that room, to learn to know my mother's face, which -I had forgotten: I was so young, mother, when you -died! And, though I was sorry that the painter had -given you a different expression from the one I should -have liked to see, at least it was not the wicked and -malignant expression of just now. Why should you hate -me? I am your daughter. Father has often told me that -we had the same smile, you and I, and also that your -eyes would grow moist with tears when you looked at -me. So you do not loathe me, do you? And I did dream, -did I not?</p> - -<p>"Or, at least, if I was not dreaming when I saw a -woman in my room, I was dreaming when that woman -seemed to me to have your face. It was a delirious -hallucination, it must have been. I had looked at your -portrait so long and thought of you so much that I -gave the stranger the features which I knew; and it -was she, not you, who bore that hateful expression.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>"And so I sha'n't drink the water. What she poured -into it must have been poison . . . or perhaps a -powerful sleeping-drug which would make me helpless -against the prince. . . . And I cannot but think of -the woman who sometimes walks with him. . . .</p> - -<p>"As for me, I know nothing, I understand nothing, my -thoughts are whirling in my tired brain. . . .</p> - -<p>"It will soon be three o'clock. . . . I am waiting for -Rosalie. It is a quiet night. There is not a sound in -the house or outside. . . .</p> - -<p class="enddiary">"It is striking three. Ah, to be away from this! . . . -To be free! . . ."</p></div> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X<br /> -<span class="smalltext">75 OR 155?</span></h2> - - -<p>Paul Delroze anxiously turned the page, as though hoping that the plan -of escape might have proved successful; and he received, as it were, a -fresh shock of grief on reading the first lines, written the following -morning, in an almost illegible hand:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="interrupt">"We were denounced, betrayed. . . . Twenty men were -spying on our movements. . . . They fell upon us like -brutes. . . . I am now locked up in the park lodge. A -little lean-to beside it is serving as a prison for -Jérôme and Rosalie. They are bound and gagged. I am -free, but there are soldiers at the door. I can hear -them speaking to one another.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Twelve mid-day.</i></p> - -<p>"It is very difficult for me to write to you, Paul. -The sentry on duty opens the door and watches my every -movement. They did not search me, so I was able to -keep the leaves of my diary; and I write to you -hurriedly, by scraps at a time, in a dark corner. -. . .</p> - -<p>"My diary! Shall you find it, Paul? Will you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> know all -that has happened and what has become of me? If only -they don't take it from me! . . .</p> - -<p>"They have brought me bread and water! I am still -separated from Rosalie and Jérôme. They have not given -them anything to eat.</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Two o'clock.</i></p> - -<p>"Rosalie has managed to get rid of her gag. She is now -speaking to me in an undertone through the wall. She -heard what the men who are guarding us said and she -tells me that Prince Conrad left last night for -Corvigny; that the French are approaching and that the -soldiers here are very uneasy. Are they going to -defend themselves, or will they fall back towards the -frontier? . . . It was Major Hermann who prevented our -escape. Rosalie says that we are done for. . . .</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Half-past two.</i></p> - -<p>"Rosalie and I had to stop speaking. I have just asked -her what she meant, why we should be done for. She -maintains that Major Hermann is a devil:</p> - -<p>"'Yes, devil,' she repeated. 'And, as he has special -reasons for acting against you. . . .'</p> - -<p>"'What reasons, Rosalie?'</p> - -<p class="enddiary">"'I will explain later. But you may be sure that if -Prince Conrad does not come back from Corvigny in time -to save us, Major Hermann will seize the opportunity -to have all three of us shot. . . .'"</p></div> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>Paul positively roared with rage when he saw the dreadful word set down -in his poor Élisabeth's hand. It was on one of the last pages. After -that there were only a few sentences written at random, across the -paper, obviously in the dark, sentences that seemed breathless as the -voice of one dying:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="interrupt">"The tocsin! . . . The wind carries the sound from -Corvigny. . . . What can it mean? . . . The French -troops? . . . Paul, Paul, perhaps you are with them! -. . .</p> - -<p>"Two soldiers came in, laughing:</p> - -<p>"'Lady's <i>kaput</i>! . . . All three <i>kaput</i>! . . . Major -Hermann said so: they're <i>kaput</i>!'</p> - -<p>"I am alone again. . . . We are going to die. . . . -But Rosalie wants to talk to me and daren't. . . .</p> - - -<p class="date">"<i>Five o'clock.</i></p> - -<p>"The French artillery. . . . Shells bursting round the -château. . . . Oh, if one of them could hit me! . . . -I hear Rosalie's voice. . . . What has she to tell me? -What secret has she discovered?</p> - -<p class="enddiary">"Oh, horror! Oh, the vile truth! Rosalie has spoken. -Dear God, I beseech Thee, give me time to write. . . . -Paul, you could never imagine. . . . You must be told -before I die. . . . Paul. . . ."</p></div> - -<p>The rest of the page was torn out; and the following pages, to the end -of the month, were blank. Had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> Élisabeth had the time and the strength -to write down what Rosalie had revealed to her?</p> - -<p>This was a question which Paul did not even ask himself. What cared he -for those revelations and the darkness that once again and for good -shrouded the truth which he could no longer hope to discover? What cared -he for vengeance or Prince Conrad or Major Hermann or all those savages -who tortured and slew women? Élisabeth was dead. She had, so to speak, -died before his eyes. Nothing outside that fact was worth a thought or -an effort. Faint and stupefied by a sudden fit of cowardice, his eyes -still fixed on the diary in which his poor wife had jotted down the -phases of the most cruel martyrdom imaginable, he felt an immense -longing for death and oblivion steal slowly over him. Élisabeth was -calling to him. Why go on fighting? Why not join her?</p> - -<p>Then some one tapped him on the shoulder. A hand seized the revolver -which he was holding; and Bernard said:</p> - -<p>"Drop that, Paul. If you think that a soldier has the right to kill -himself at the present time, I will leave you free to do so when you -have heard what I have to say."</p> - -<p>Paul made no protest. The temptation to die had come to him, but almost -without his knowing it; and, though he would perhaps have yielded to it, -in a moment of madness, he was still in the state of mind in which a man -soon recovers his consciousness.</p> - -<p>"Speak," he said.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>"It will not take long. Three minutes will give me time to explain. -Listen to me. I see, from the writing, that you have found a diary kept -by Élisabeth. Does it confirm what you knew?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"When Élisabeth wrote it, was she threatened with death as well as -Jérôme and Rosalie?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And all three were shot on the day when you and I arrived at Corvigny, -that is to say, on Wednesday, the sixteenth?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"It was between five and six in the afternoon, on the day before the -Thursday when we arrived here, at the Château d'Ornequin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but why these questions?"</p> - -<p>"Why? Look at this, Paul. I took from you and I hold in my hand the -splinter of shell which you removed from the wall of the lodge at the -exact spot where Élisabeth was shot. Here it is. There was a lock of -hair still sticking to it."</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I had a talk just now with an adjutant of artillery, who was -passing by the château; and the result of our conversation and of his -inspection was that the splinter does not belong to a shell fired from a -75-centimeter gun, but to a shell fired from a 155-centimeter gun, a -Rimailho."</p> - -<p>"I don't understand."</p> - -<p>"You don't understand, because you don't know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> or because you have -forgotten what my adjutant reminded me of. On the Corvigny day, -Wednesday the sixteenth, the batteries which opened fire and dropped a -few shells on the château at the moment when the execution was taking -place were all batteries of seventy-fives; and our one-five-five -Rimailhos did not fire until the next day, Thursday, while we were -marching against the château. Therefore, as Élisabeth was shot and -buried at about 6 o'clock on the Wednesday evening, it is physically -impossible for a splinter of a shell fired from a Rimailho to have taken -off a lock of her hair, because the Rimailhos were not fired until the -Thursday morning."</p> - -<p>"Then you mean to say. . . ." murmured Paul, in a husky voice.</p> - -<p>"I mean to say, how can we doubt that the Rimailho splinter was picked -up from the ground on the Thursday morning and deliberately driven into -the wall among some locks of hair cut off on the evening before?"</p> - -<p>"But you're crazy, Bernard! What object can there have been in that?"</p> - -<p>Bernard gave a smile:</p> - -<p>"Well, of course, the object of making people think that Élisabeth had -been shot when she hadn't."</p> - -<p>Paul rushed at him and shook him:</p> - -<p>"You know something, Bernard, or you wouldn't be laughing! Can't you -speak? How do you account for the bullets in the wall of the lodge? And -the iron chain? And that third ring?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>"Just so. There were too many stage properties. When an execution takes -place, does one see marks of bullets like that? And did you ever find -Élisabeth's body? How do you know that they did not take pity on her -after shooting Jérôme and his wife? Or who can tell? Some one may have -interfered. . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul felt some little hope steal over him. Élisabeth, after being -condemned to death by Major Hermann, had perhaps been saved by Prince -Conrad, returning from Corvigny before the execution.</p> - -<p>He stammered:</p> - -<p>"Perhaps . . . yes . . . perhaps. . . . And then there's this: Major -Hermann knew of our presence at Corvigny—remember your meeting with -that peasant woman—and wanted Élisabeth at any rate to be dead for us, -so that we might give up looking for her. I expect Major Hermann -arranged those properties, as you call them. How can I tell? Have I any -right to hope?"</p> - -<p>Bernard came closer to him and said, solemnly:</p> - -<p>"It's not hope, Paul, that I'm bringing you, but a certainty. I wanted -to prepare you for it. And now listen. My reason for asking those -questions of the artillery adjutant was that I might check facts which I -already knew. Yes, when I was at Ornequin village just now, a convoy of -German prisoners arrived from the frontier. I was able to exchange a few -words with one of them who had formed part of the garrison of the -château. He had seen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> things, therefore. He knew. Well, Élisabeth was -not shot. Prince Conrad prevented the execution."</p> - -<p>"What's that? What's that?" cried Paul, overcome with joy. "You're quite -sure? She's alive?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, alive. . . . They've taken her to Germany."</p> - -<p>"But since then? For, after all, Major Hermann may have caught up with -her and succeeded in his designs."</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"How do you know?"</p> - -<p>"Through that prisoner. The French lady whom he had seen here he saw -this morning."</p> - -<p>"Where?"</p> - -<p>"Not far from the frontier, in a village just outside Èbrecourt, under -the protection of the man who saved her and who is certainly capable of -defending her against Major Hermann."</p> - -<p>"What's that?" repeated Paul, but in a dull voice this time and with a -face distorted with anger.</p> - -<p>"Prince Conrad, who seems to take his soldiering in a very amateurish -spirit—he is looked upon as an idiot, you know, even in his own -family—has made Èbrecourt his headquarters and calls on Élisabeth every -day. There is no fear, therefore. . . ." But Bernard interrupted -himself, and asked in amazement, "Why, what's the matter? You're gray in -the face."</p> - -<p>Paul took his brother-in-law by the shoulders and shouted:</p> - -<p>"Élisabeth is lost. Prince Conrad has fallen in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> love with her—we heard -that before, you know; and her diary is one long cry of distress—he has -fallen in love with her and he never lets go his prey. Do you -understand? He will stop at nothing!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Paul, I can't believe. . . ."</p> - -<p>"At nothing, I tell you. He is not only an idiot, but a scoundrel and a -blackguard. When you read the diary you will understand. . . . But -enough of words, Bernard. What we have to do is to act and to act at -once, without even taking time to reflect."</p> - -<p>"What do you propose?"</p> - -<p>"To snatch Élisabeth from that man's clutches, to deliver her."</p> - -<p>"Impossible."</p> - -<p>"Impossible? We are not eight miles from the place where my wife is a -prisoner, exposed to that rascal's insults, and you think that I am -going to stay here with my arms folded? Nonsense! We must show that we -have blood in our veins! To work, Bernard! And if you hesitate I shall -go alone."</p> - -<p>"You will go alone? Where?"</p> - -<p>"To Èbrecourt. I don't want any one with me. I need no assistance. A -German uniform will be enough. I shall cross the frontier in the dark. I -shall kill the enemies who have to be killed and to-morrow morning -Élisabeth shall be here, free."</p> - -<p>Bernard shook his head and said, gently:</p> - -<p>"My poor Paul!"</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"I mean that I should have been the first to agree<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> and that we should -have rushed to Élisabeth's rescue together, without counting the risk. -Unfortunately. . . ."</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>"Well, it's this, Paul: there is no intention on our side of taking a -more vigorous offensive. They've sent for reserve and territorial -regiments; and we are leaving."</p> - -<p>"Leaving?" stammered Paul, in dismay.</p> - -<p>"Yes, this evening. Our division is to start from Corvigny this evening -and go I don't know where . . . to Rheims, perhaps, or Arras. North and -west, in short. So you see, my poor chap, your plan can't be realized. -Come, buck up. And don't look so distressed. It breaks my heart to see -you. After all, Élisabeth isn't in danger. She will know how to defend -herself. . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul did not answer. He remembered Prince Conrad's abominable words, -quoted by Élisabeth in her diary:</p> - -<p>"It is war. It is the law, the law of war."</p> - -<p>He felt the tremendous weight of that law bearing upon him, but he felt -at the same time that he was obeying it in its noblest and loftiest -phase, the sacrifice of the individual to everything demanded by the -safety of the nation.</p> - -<p>The law of war? No, the duty of war; and a duty so imperious that a man -does not discuss it and that, implacable though it be, he must not even -allow the merest quiver of a complaint to stir in his secret soul.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> -Whether Élisabeth was faced by death or by dishonor did not concern -Sergeant Paul Delroze and could not make him turn for a second from the -path which he was ordered to follow. He was a soldier first and a man -afterwards. He owed no duty save to France, his sorely-stricken and -beloved country.</p> - -<p>He carefully folded up Élisabeth's diary and went out, followed by his -brother-in-law.</p> - -<p>At nightfall he left the Château d'Ornequin.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI<br /> -<span class="smalltext">"YSERY, MISERY"</span></h2> - - -<p>Toul, Bar-le-Duc, Vitry-le-François. . . . The little towns sped past as -the long train carried Paul and Bernard westwards into France. Other, -numberless trains came before or after theirs, laden with troops and -munitions of war. They reached the outskirts of Paris and turned north, -passing through Beauvais, Amiens and Arras.</p> - -<p>It was necessary that they should arrive there first, on the frontier, -to join the heroic Belgians and to join them as high up as possible. -Every mile of ground covered was so much territory snatched from the -invader during the long immobilized war that was in preparation.</p> - -<p>Second Lieutenant Paul Delroze—he had received his new rank in the -course of the railway journey—accomplished the northward march as it -were in a dream, fighting every day, risking his life every minute, -leading his men with irresistible dash, but all as though he were doing -it without his own cognizance, in obedience to the automatic operation -of a predetermined will.</p> - -<p>While Bernard continued to stake his life with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> laugh, as though in -play, keeping up his comrade's courage with his own light-hearted pluck, -Paul remained speechless and absent. Everything—fatigue, privations, -the weather—seemed to him a matter of indifference.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, it was an immense delight, as he would sometimes confess -to Bernard, to be going towards the fighting line. He had the feeling -that he was making for a definite object, the only one that interested -him: Élisabeth's deliverance. Even though he was attacking this frontier -and not the other, the eastern frontier, he was still rushing with all -the strength of his hatred against the detested enemy. Whether that -enemy was defeated here or there made little difference. In either case, -Élisabeth would be free.</p> - -<p>"We shall succeed," said Bernard. "You may be sure that Élisabeth will -outwit that swine. Meanwhile, we shall stampede the Huns, make a dash -across Belgium, take Conrad in the rear and capture Èbrecourt. Doesn't -the proposal make you smile? Oh, no, you never smile, do you, when you -demolish a Hun? Not you! You've got a little way of laughing that tells -me all about it. I say to myself, 'There's a bullet gone home,' or -'That's done it: he's got one at the end of his toothpick!' For you've a -way of your own of sticking them. Ah, lieutenant, how fierce we grow! -Simply through practise in killing! And to think that it makes us -laugh!"</p> - -<p>Roye, Lassigny, Chaulnes. . . . Later, the Bas<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>sée Canal and the River -Lys. . . . And, later and at last, Ypres. Ypres! Here the two lines met, -extended towards the sea. After the French rivers, after the Marne, the -Aisne, the Oise and the Somme, a little Belgian stream was to run red -with young men's blood. The terrible battle of the Yser was beginning.</p> - -<p>Bernard, who soon won his sergeant's stripes, and Paul Delroze lived in -this hell until the early days of December. Together with half a dozen -Parisians, a volunteer soldier, a reservist and a Belgian called -Laschen, who had escaped from Roulers and joined the French in order to -get at the enemy more quickly, they formed a little band who seemed -proof against fire. Of the whole section commanded by Paul, only these -remained; and, when the section was re-formed, they continued to group -together. They claimed all the dangerous expeditions. And each time, -when their task was fulfilled, they met again, safe and sound, without a -scratch, as though they brought one another luck.</p> - -<p>During the last fortnight, the regiment, which had been pushed to the -extreme point of the front, was flanked by the Belgian lines on the one -side and the British lines on the other. Heroic assaults were delivered. -Furious bayonet charges were made in the mud, even in the water of the -flooded fields; and the Germans fell by the thousand and the ten -thousand.</p> - -<p>Bernard was in the seventh heaven:</p> - -<p>"Tommy," he said to a little English soldier who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> was advancing by his -side one day under a hail of shot and who did not understand a single -word of French, "Tommy, no one admires the Belgians more than I do, but -they don't stagger me, for the simple reason that they fight in our -fashion; that is to say, like lions. The fellows who stagger me are you -English beggars. You're different, you know. You have a way of your own -of doing your work . . . and such work! No excitement, no fury. You keep -all that bottled up. Oh, of course, you go mad when you retreat: that's -when you're really terrible! You never gain as much ground as when -you've lost a bit. Result: mashed Boches!"</p> - -<p>He paused and then continued:</p> - -<p>"I give you my word, Tommy, it fills us with confidence to have you by -our side. Listen and I'll tell you a great secret. France is getting -lots of applause just now; and she deserves it. We are all standing on -our legs, holding our heads high and without boasting. We wear a smile -on our faces and are quite calm, with clean souls and bright eyes. Well, -the reason why we don't flinch, why we have confidence nailed to our -hearts, is that you are with us. It's as I say, Tommy. Look here, do you -know at what precise moment France felt just a little shaking at the pit -of her stomach? During the retreat from Belgium? Not a bit of it! When -Paris was within an ace of being sacked? Not at all. You give it up? -Well, it was on the first day or two. At that time, you see, we knew, -without saying so, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>out admitting it even to ourselves, that we were -done for. There was no help for it. No time to prepare ourselves. Done -for was what we were. And, though I say it as shouldn't, France behaved -well. She marched straight to death without wincing, with her brightest -smile and as gaily as if she were marching to certain victory. <i>Ave, -Cæsar, morituri te salutant!</i> Die? Why not, since our honor demands it? -Die to save the world? Right you are! And then suddenly London rings us -up on the telephone. 'Hullo! Who are you?' 'It's England speaking.' -'Well?' 'Well, I'm coming in.' 'You don't mean it?' 'I do—with my last -ship, with my last man, with my last shilling.' Then . . . oh, then -there was a sudden change of front! Die? Rather not! No question of that -now! Live, yes, and conquer! We two together will settle fate. From that -day, France did not know a moment's uneasiness. The retreat? A trifle. -Paris captured? A mere accident! One thing alone mattered: the final -result. Fighting against England and France, there's nothing left for -you Huns to do but go down on your knees. Here, Tommy, I'll start with -that one: the big fellow at the foot of the tree. Down on your knees, -you big fellow! . . . Hi! Tommy! Where are you off to? Calling you, are -they? Good-by, Tommy. My love to England!"</p> - -<p>It was on the evening of that day, as the 3rd company were skirmishing -near Dixmude, that an incident occurred which struck the two -brothers-in-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>law as very odd. Paul suddenly felt a violent blow in the -right side, just above the hip. He had no time to bother about it. But, -on retiring to the trenches, he saw that a bullet had passed through the -holster of his revolver and flattened itself against the barrel. Now, -judging from the position which Paul had occupied, the bullet must have -been fired from behind him; that is to say, by a soldier belonging to -his company or to some other company of his regiment. Was it an -accident? A piece of awkwardness?</p> - -<p>Two days later, it was Bernard's turn. Luck protected him, too. A bullet -went through his knapsack and grazed his shoulder-blade.</p> - -<p>And, four days after that, Paul had his cap shot through: and, this time -again, the bullet came from the French lines.</p> - -<p>There was no doubt about it therefore. The two brothers-in-law had -evidently been aimed at; and the traitor, a criminal in the enemy's pay, -was concealed in the French ranks.</p> - -<p>"It's as sure as eggs," said Bernard. "You first, then I, then you -again. There's a touch of Hermann about this. The major must be at -Dixmude."</p> - -<p>"And perhaps the prince, too," observed Paul.</p> - -<p>"Very likely. In any case, one of their agents has slipped in amongst -us. How are we to get at him? Tell the colonel?"</p> - -<p>"If you like, Bernard, but don't speak of ourselves and of our private -quarrel with the major. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> did think for a moment of going to the -colonel about it, but decided not to, as I did not want to drag in -Élisabeth's name."</p> - -<p>There was no occasion, however, for them to warn their superiors. Though -the attempts on the lives of Paul and Bernard were not repeated, there -were fresh instances of treachery every day. French batteries were -located and attacked; their movements were forestalled; and everything -proved that a spying system had been organized on a much more methodical -and active scale than anywhere else. They felt certain of the presence -of Major Hermann, who was evidently one of the chief pivots of the -system.</p> - -<p>"He is here," said Bernard, pointing to the German lines. "He is here -because the great game is being played in those marshes and because -there is work for him to do. And also he is here because we are."</p> - -<p>"How would he know?" Paul objected.</p> - -<p>And Bernard rejoined:</p> - -<p>"How could he fail to know?"</p> - -<p>One afternoon there was a meeting of the majors and the captains in the -cabin which served as the colonel's quarters. Paul Delroze was summoned -to attend it and was told that the general commanding the division had -ordered the capture of a little house, standing on the left bank of the -canal, which in ordinary times was inhabited by a ferryman. The Germans -had strengthened and were holding it. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> fire of their distant -batteries, set up on a height on the other side, defended this -block-house, which had formed the center of the fighting for some days. -It had become necessary to take it.</p> - -<p>"For this purpose," said the colonel, "we have called for a hundred -volunteers from the African companies. They will set out to-night and -deliver the assault to-morrow morning. Our business will be to support -them at once and, once the attack has succeeded, to repel the -counter-attacks, which are sure to be extremely violent because of the -importance of the position. You all of you know the position, gentlemen. -It is separated from us by the marshes which our African volunteers will -enter to-night . . . up to their waists, one might say. But to the right -of the marshes, alongside of the canal, runs a tow-path by which we will -be able to come to the rescue. This tow-path has been swept by the guns -on both sides and is free for a great part. Still, half a mile before -the ferryman's house there is an old lighthouse which was occupied by -the Germans until lately and which we have just destroyed with our -gun-fire. Have they evacuated it entirely? Is there a danger of -encountering an advance post there? It would be a good thing if we could -find out; and I thought of you, Delroze."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, sir."</p> - -<p>"It's not a dangerous job, but it's a delicate one; and it will have to -make certain. I want you to start to-night. If the old lighthouse is -occupied, come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> back. If not, send for a dozen reliable men and hide -them carefully until we come up. It will make an excellent base."</p> - -<p>"Very well, sir."</p> - -<p>Paul at once made his arrangements, called together his little band of -Parisians and volunteers who, with the reservist and Laschen the -Belgian, formed his usual command, warned them that he would probably -want them in the course of the night and, at nine o'clock in the -evening, set out, accompanied by Bernard d'Andeville.</p> - -<p>The fire from the enemy's guns kept them for a long time on the bank of -the canal, behind a huge, uprooted willow-trunk. Then an impenetrable -darkness gathered round them, so much so that they could not even -distinguish the water of the canal.</p> - -<p>They crept rather than walked along, for fear of unexpected flashes of -light. A slight breeze was blowing across the muddy fields and over the -marshes, which quivered with the whispering of the reeds.</p> - -<p>"It's pretty dreary here," muttered Bernard.</p> - -<p>"Hold your tongue."</p> - -<p>"As you please, lieutenant."</p> - -<p>Guns kept booming at intervals for no reason, like dogs barking to make -a noise amid the deep, nervous silence; and other guns at once barked -back furiously, as if to make a noise in their turn and to prove that -they were not asleep.</p> - -<p>And once more peace reigned. Nothing stirred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> in space. It was as though -the very grass of the marshes had ceased to wave. And yet Bernard and -Paul seemed to perceive the slow progress of the African volunteers who -had set out at the same time as themselves, their long halts in the -middle of the icy waters, their stubborn efforts.</p> - -<p>"Drearier and drearier," sighed Bernard.</p> - -<p>"You're very impressionable to-night," said Paul.</p> - -<p>"It's the Yser. You know what the men say: 'Yysery, misery!'"</p> - -<p>They dropped to the ground suddenly. The enemy was sweeping the path and -the marshes with search-lights. There were two more alarms; and at last -they reached the neighborhood of the old lighthouse without impediment.</p> - -<p>It was half-past eleven. With infinite caution they stole in between the -demolished blocks of masonry and soon perceived that the post had been -abandoned. Nevertheless, they discovered, under the broken steps of the -staircase, an open trap-door and a ladder leading to a cellar which -revealed gleams of swords and helmets. But Bernard, who was piercing the -darkness from above with the rays of his electric lamp, declared:</p> - -<p>"There's nothing to fear, they're dead. The Huns must have thrown them -in, after the recent bombardment."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Paul. "And we must be prepared for the fact that they may -send for the bodies. Keep guard on the Yser side, Bernard."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>"And suppose one of the beggars is still alive?"</p> - -<p>"I'll go down and see."</p> - -<p>"Turn out their pockets," said Bernard, as he moved away, "and bring us -back their note-books. I love those. They're the best indications of the -state of their souls . . . or rather of their stomachs."</p> - -<p>Paul went down. The cellar was a fairly large one. Half-a-dozen bodies -lay spread over the floor, all lifeless and cold. Acting on Bernard's -advice, he turned out the pockets and casually inspected the note-books. -There was nothing interesting to attract his attention. But in the tunic -of the sixth soldier whom he examined, a short, thin man, shot right -through the head, he found a pocket-book bearing the name of Rosenthal -and containing French and Belgian bank-notes and a packet of letters -with Spanish, Dutch and Swiss postage stamps. The letters, all of which -were in German, had been addressed to a German agent residing in France, -whose name did not appear, and sent by him to Private Rosenthal, on -whose body Paul discovered them. This private was to pass them on, -together with a photograph, to a third person, referred to as his -excellency.</p> - -<p>"Secret Service," said Paul, looking through them. "Confidential -information. . . . Statistics. . . . What a pack of scoundrels!"</p> - -<p>But, on glancing at the pocket-book again, he saw an envelope which he -tore open. Inside was a photo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>graph; and Paul's surprise at the sight of -it was so great that he uttered an exclamation. It represented the woman -whose portrait he had seen in the locked room at Ornequin, the same -woman, with the same lace scarf arranged in the identical way and with -the same expression, whose hardness was not masked by its smile. And was -this woman not the Comtesse Hermine d'Andeville, the mother of Élisabeth -and Bernard?</p> - -<p>The print bore the name of a Berlin photographer. On turning it over, -Paul saw something that increased his stupefaction. There were a few -words of writing:</p> - -<p class="center">"<i>To Stéphane d'Andeville. 1902.</i>"</p> - -<p>Stéphane was the Comte d'Andeville's Christian name!</p> - -<p>The photograph, therefore, had been sent from Berlin to the father of -Élisabeth and Bernard in 1902, that is to say, four years after the -Comtesse Hermine's death, so that Paul was faced with one of two -solutions: either the photograph, taken before the Comtesse Hermine's -death, was inscribed with the date of the year in which the count had -received it; or else the Comtesse Hermine was still alive.</p> - -<p>And, in spite of himself, Paul thought of Major Hermann, whose memory -was suggested to his troubled mind by this portrait, as it had been by -the picture in the locked room. Hermann! Hermine! And here was Hermine's -image discovered by him on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> the corpse of a German spy, by the banks of -the Yser, where the chief spy, who was certainly Major Hermann, must -even now be prowling.</p> - -<p>"Paul! Paul!"</p> - -<p>It was his brother-in-law calling him. Paul rose quickly, hid the -photograph, being fully resolved not to speak of it to Bernard, and -climbed the ladder.</p> - -<p>"Well, Bernard, what is it?"</p> - -<p>"A little troop of Boches. . . . I thought at first that they were a -patrol, relieving the sentries, and that they would keep on the other -side. But they've unmoored a couple of boats and are pulling across the -canal."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I can hear them."</p> - -<p>"Shall we fire at them?" Bernard suggested.</p> - -<p>"No, it would mean giving the alarm. It's better to watch them. Besides, -that's what we're here for."</p> - -<p>But at this moment there was a faint whistle from the tow-path. A -similar whistle answered from the boat. Two other signals were exchanged -at regular intervals.</p> - -<p>A church clock struck midnight.</p> - -<p>"It's an appointment," Paul conjectured. "This is becoming interesting. -Follow me. I noticed a place below where I think we shall be safe -against any surprise."</p> - -<p>It was a back-cellar separated from the first by a brick wall containing -a breach through which they easily made their way. They rapidly filled -up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> the breach with bricks that had fallen from the ceiling and the -walls.</p> - -<p>They had hardly finished when a sound of steps was heard overhead and -some words in German reached their ears. The troop of soldiers seemed to -be fairly numerous. Bernard fixed the barrel of his rifle in one of the -loop-holes in their barricade.</p> - -<p>"What are you doing?" asked Paul.</p> - -<p>"Making ready for them if they come. We can sustain a regular siege -here."</p> - -<p>"Don't be a fool, Bernard. Listen. Perhaps we shall be able to catch a -few words."</p> - -<p>"You may, perhaps. I don't know a syllable of German. . . ."</p> - -<p>A dazzling light suddenly filled the cellar. A soldier came down the -ladder and hung a large electric lamp to a hook in the wall. He was -joined by a dozen men; and the two brothers-in-law at once perceived -that they had come to remove the dead.</p> - -<p>It did not take long. In a quarter of an hour's time, there was nothing -left in the cellar but one body, that of Rosenthal, the spy.</p> - -<p>And an imperious voice above commanded:</p> - -<p>"Stay there, you others, and wait for us. And you, Karl, go down first."</p> - -<p>Some one appeared on the top rungs of the ladder. Paul and Bernard were -astounded at seeing a pair of red trousers, followed by a blue tunic and -the full uniform of a French private. The man jumped to the ground and -cried:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>"I'm here, <i>Excellenz</i>. You can come now."</p> - -<p>And they saw Laschen, the Belgian, or rather the self-styled Belgian who -had given his name as Laschen and who belonged to Paul's section. They -now knew where the three shots that had been fired at them came from. -The traitor was there. Under the light they clearly distinguished his -face, the face of a man of forty, with fat, heavy features and -red-rimmed eyes. He seized the uprights of the ladder so as to hold it -steady. An officer climbed down cautiously, wrapped in a wide gray cloak -with upturned collar.</p> - -<p>They recognized Major Hermann.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII<br /> -<span class="smalltext">MAJOR HERMANN</span></h2> - - -<p>Resisting the surge of hatred that might have driven him to perform an -immediate act of vengeance, Paul at once laid his hand on Bernard's arm -to compel him to prudence. But he himself was filled with rage at the -sight of that demon. The man who represented in his eyes every one of -the crimes committed against his father and his wife, that man was -there, in front of his revolver, and Paul must not budge! Nay more, -circumstances had taken such a shape that, to a certainty, the man would -go away in a few minutes, to commit other crimes, and there was no -possibility of calling him to account.</p> - -<p>"Good, Karl," said the major, in German, addressing the so-called -Belgian. "Good. You have been punctual. Well, what news is there?"</p> - -<p>"First of all, <i>Excellenz</i>," replied Karl, who seemed to treat the major -with that deference mingled with familiarity which men show to a -superior who is also their accomplice, "by your leave."</p> - -<p>He took off his blue tunic and put on that of one of the dead Germans. -Then, giving the military salute:</p> - -<p>"That's better. You see, I'm a good German,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> <i>Excellenz</i>. I don't stick -at any job. But this uniform chokes me.</p> - -<p>"Well, <i>Excellenz</i>, it's too dangerous a trade, plied in this way. A -peasant's smock is all very well; but a soldier's tunic won't do. Those -beggars know no fear; I am obliged to follow them; and I run the risk of -being killed by a German bullet."</p> - -<p>"What about the two brothers-in-law?"</p> - -<p>"I fired at them three times from behind and three times I missed them. -Couldn't be helped: they've got the devil's luck; and I should only end -by getting caught. So, as you say, I'm deserting; and I sent the -youngster who runs between me and Rosenthal to make an appointment with -you."</p> - -<p>"Rosenthal sent your note on to me at headquarters."</p> - -<p>"But there was also a photograph, the one you know of, and a bundle of -letters from your agents in France. I didn't want to have those proofs -found on me if I was discovered."</p> - -<p>"Rosenthal was to have brought them to me himself. Unfortunately, he -made a blunder."</p> - -<p>"What was that, <i>Excellenz</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Getting killed by a shell."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense!"</p> - -<p>"There's his body at your feet."</p> - -<p>Karl merely shrugged his shoulders and said:</p> - -<p>"The fool!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, he never knew how to look after himself," added the major, -completing the funeral oration.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> "Take his pocketbook from him, Karl. He -used to carry it in an inside pocket of his woolen waistcoat."</p> - -<p>The spy stooped and, presently, said:</p> - -<p>"It's not there, <i>Excellenz</i>."</p> - -<p>"Then he put it somewhere else. Look in the other pockets."</p> - -<p>Karl did so and said:</p> - -<p>"It's not there either."</p> - -<p>"What! This is beyond me! Rosenthal never parted with his pocketbook. He -used to keep it to sleep with; he would have kept it to die with."</p> - -<p>"Look for yourself, <i>Excellenz</i>."</p> - -<p>"But then . . . ?"</p> - -<p>"Some one must have been here recently and taken the pocketbook."</p> - -<p>"Who? Frenchmen?"</p> - -<p>The spy rose to his feet, was silent for a moment and then, going up to -the major, said in a deliberate voice:</p> - -<p>"Not Frenchmen, <i>Excellenz</i>, but a Frenchman."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Excellenz</i>, Delroze started on a reconnaissance not long ago with his -brother-in-law, Bernard d'Andeville. I could not get to know in which -direction, but I know now. He came this way. He must have explored the -ruins of the lighthouse and, seeing some dead lying about, turned out -their pockets."</p> - -<p>"That's a bad business," growled the major. "Are you sure?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>"Certain. He must have been here an hour ago at most. Perhaps," added -Karl, with a laugh, "perhaps he's here still, hiding in some hole. -. . ."</p> - -<p>Both of them cast a look around them, but mechanically; and the movement -denoted no serious fear on their part. Then the major continued, -pensively:</p> - -<p>"After all, that bundle of letters received by our agents, letters -without names or addresses to them, doesn't matter so much. But the -photograph is more important."</p> - -<p>"I should think so, <i>Excellenz</i>! Why, here's a photograph taken in 1902; -and we've been looking for it, therefore, for the last twelve years. I -manage, after untold efforts, to discover it among the papers which -Comte Stéphane d'Andeville left behind at the outbreak of war. And this -photograph, which you wanted to take back from the Comte d'Andeville, to -whom you had been careless enough to give it, is now in the hands of -Paul Delroze, M. d'Andeville's son-in-law, Élisabeth d'Andeville's -husband and your mortal enemy!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I know all that," cried the major, who was obviously annoyed. -"You needn't rub it in!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Excellenz</i>, one must always look facts in the face. What has been your -constant object with regard to Paul Delroze? To conceal from him the -truth as to your identity and therefore to turn his attention, his -enquiries, his hatred, towards Major Hermann. That's so, is it not? You -went to the length of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> multiplying the number of daggers engraved with -the letters H, E, R, M and even of signing 'Major Hermann' on the panel -where the famous portrait hung. In fact, you took every precaution, so -that, when you think fit to kill off Major Hermann, Paul Delroze will -believe his enemy to be dead and will cease to think of you. And now -what happens? Why, in that photograph he possesses the most certain -proof of the connection between Major Hermann and the famous portrait -which he saw on the evening of his marriage, that is to say, between the -present and the past."</p> - -<p>"True; but this photograph, found on the body of some dead soldier, -would have no importance in his eyes unless he knew where it came from, -for instance, if he could see his father-in-law."</p> - -<p>"His father-in-law is fighting with the British army within eight miles -of Paul Delroze."</p> - -<p>"Do they know it?"</p> - -<p>"No, but an accident may bring them together. Moreover, Bernard and his -father correspond; and Bernard must have told his father what happened -at the Château d'Ornequin, at least in so far as Paul Delroze was able -to piece the incidents together."</p> - -<p>"Well, what does that matter, so long as they know nothing of the other -events? And that's the main thing. They could discover all our secrets -through Élisabeth and find out who I am. But they won't look for her, -because they believe her to be dead."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>"Are you sure of that, <i>Excellenz</i>?"</p> - -<p>"What's that?"</p> - -<p>The two accomplices were standing close together, looking into each -other's eyes, the major uneasy and irritated, the spy cunning.</p> - -<p>"Speak," said the major. "What do you want to say?"</p> - -<p>"Just this, <i>Excellenz</i>, that just now I was able to put my hand on -Delroze's kit-bag. Not for long: two seconds, that's all; but long -enough to see two things. . . ."</p> - -<p>"Hurry up, can't you?"</p> - -<p>"First, the loose leaves of that manuscript of which you took care to -burn the more important papers, but of which, unfortunately, you mislaid -a considerable part."</p> - -<p>"His wife's diary?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>The major burst into an oath:</p> - -<p>"May I be damned for everlasting! One should burn everything in those -cases. Oh, if I hadn't indulged that foolish curiosity! . . . And next?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, hardly anything, <i>Excellenz</i>! A bit of a shell, yes, a little bit -of a shell; but I must say that it looked to me very like the splinter -which you ordered me to drive into the wall of the lodge, after sticking -some of Élisabeth's hair to it. What do you think of that, <i>Excellenz</i>?"</p> - -<p>The major stamped his foot with anger and let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> fly a new string of oaths -and anathemas at the head of Paul Delroze.</p> - -<p>"What do you think of that?" repeated the spy.</p> - -<p>"You are right," cried the major. "His wife's diary will have given that -cursed Frenchman a glimpse of the truth; and that piece of shell in his -possession is a proof to him that his wife is perhaps still alive, which -is the one thing I wanted to avoid. We shall never get rid of him now!" -His rage seemed to increase. "Oh, Karl, he makes me sick and tired! He -and his street-boy of a brother-in-law, what a pair of swankers! By God, -I did think that you had rid me of them the night when we came back to -their room at the château and found their names written on the wall! And -you can understand that they won't let things rest, now that they know -the girl isn't dead! They will look for her. They will find her. And, as -she knows all our secrets . . . ! You ought to have made away with her, -Karl!"</p> - -<p>"And the prince?" chuckled the spy.</p> - -<p>"Conrad is an ass! The whole of that family will bring us ill-luck and -first of all to him who was fool enough to fall in love with that hussy. -You ought to have made away with her at once, Karl—I told you—and not -to have waited for the prince's return."</p> - -<p>Standing full in the light as he was, Major Hermann displayed the most -appalling highwayman's face imaginable, appalling not because of the -de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>formity of the features or any particular ugliness, but because of -the most repulsive and savage expression, in which Paul once more -recognized, carried to the very limits of paroxysm, the expression of -the Comtesse Hermine, as revealed in her picture and the photograph. At -the thought of the crime which had failed, Major Hermann seemed to -suffer a thousand deaths, as though the murder had been a condition of -his own life. He ground his teeth. He rolled his bloodshot eyes.</p> - -<p>In a distraught voice, clutching the shoulder of his accomplice with his -fingers, he shouted, this time in French:</p> - -<p>"Karl, it is beginning to look as though we couldn't touch them, as -though some miracle protected them against us. You've missed them three -times lately. At the Château d'Ornequin you killed two others in their -stead. I also missed him the other day at the little gate in the park. -And it was in the same park, near the same chapel—you remember—sixteen -years ago, when he was only a child, that you drove your knife into him. -. . . Well, you started your blundering on that day."</p> - -<p>The spy gave an insolent, cynical laugh:</p> - -<p>"What did you expect, <i>Excellenz</i>? I was on the threshold of my career -and I had not your experience. Here were a father and a little boy whom -we had never set eyes on ten minutes before and who had done nothing to -us except annoy the Kaiser. My hand shook, I confess. You, on the other -hand:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> ah, you made neat work of the father, you did! One little touch -of your little hand and the trick was done!"</p> - -<p>This time it was Paul who, slowly and carefully, slipped the barrel of -his revolver into one of the breaches. He could no longer doubt, after -Karl's revelations, that the major had killed his father. It was that -creature whom he had seen, dagger in hand, on that tragic evening, that -creature and none other! And the creature's accomplice of to-day was the -accomplice of the earlier occasion, the satellite who had tried to kill -Paul while his father was dying.</p> - -<p>Bernard, seeing what Paul did, whispered in his ear:</p> - -<p>"So you have made up your mind? We're to shoot him down?"</p> - -<p>"Wait till I give the signal," answered Paul. "But don't you fire at -him, aim at the spy."</p> - -<p>In spite of everything, he was thinking of the inexplicable mystery of -the bonds connecting Major Hermann with Bernard d'Andeville and his -sister Élisabeth and he could not allow Bernard to be the one to carry -out the act of justice. He himself hesitated, as one hesitates before -performing an action of which one does not realize the full scope. Who -was that scoundrel? What identity was Paul to ascribe to him? To-day, -Major Hermann and chief of the German secret service; yesterday, Prince -Conrad's boon companion, all-powerful at the Châ<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>teau d'Ornequin, -disguising himself as a peasant-woman and prowling through Corvigny; -long before that, an assassin, the Emperor's accomplice . . . and the -lady of Ornequin: which of all these personalities, which were but -different aspects of one and the same being, was the real one?</p> - -<p>Paul looked at the major in bewilderment, as he had looked at the -photograph and, in the locked room, at the portrait of Hermine -d'Andeville. Hermann, Hermine! In his mind the two names became merged -into one. And he noticed the daintiness of the hands, white and small as -a woman's hands. The tapering fingers were decked with rings set with -precious stones. The booted feet, too, were delicately formed. The -colorless face showed not a trace of hair. But all this effeminate -appearance was belied by the grating sound of a hoarse voice, by -heaviness of gait and movement and by a sort of barbarous strength.</p> - -<p>The major put his hands before his face and reflected for a few minutes. -Karl watched him with a certain air of pity and seemed to be asking -himself whether his master was not beginning to feel some kind of -remorse at the thought of the crimes which he had committed. But the -major threw off his torpor and, in a hardly audible voice, quivering -with nothing but hatred, said:</p> - -<p>"On their heads be it, Karl! On their heads be it for trying to get in -our path! I put away the father and I did well. One day it will be the -son's turn.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> And now . . . now we have the girl to see to."</p> - -<p>"Shall I take charge of that, <i>Excellenz</i>?"</p> - -<p>"No, I have a use for you here and I must stay here myself. Things are -going very badly. But I shall go down there early in January. I shall be -at Èbrecourt on the morning of the tenth of January. The business must -be finished forty-eight hours after. And it shall be finished, that I -swear to you."</p> - -<p>He was again silent while the spy laughed loudly. Paul had stooped, so -as to bring his eyes to the level of his revolver. It would be criminal -to hesitate now. To kill the major no longer meant revenging himself and -slaying his father's murderer: it meant preventing a further crime and -saving Élisabeth. He had to act, whatever the consequences of his act -might be. He made up his mind.</p> - -<p>"Are you ready?" he whispered to Bernard.</p> - -<p>"Yes. I am waiting for you to give the signal."</p> - -<p>He took aim coldly, waiting for the propitious moment, and was about to -pull the trigger, when Karl said, in German: "I say, <i>Excellenz</i>, do you -know what's being prepared for the ferryman's house?"</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>"An attack, just that. A hundred volunteers from the African companies -are on their way through the marshes now. The assault will be delivered -at dawn. You have only just time to let them know at headquarters and to -find out what precautions they intend to take."</p> - -<p>The major simply said:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>"They are taken."</p> - -<p>"What's that you say, <i>Excellenz</i>?"</p> - -<p>"I say, that they are taken. I had word from another quarter; and, as -they attach great value to the ferryman's house, I telephoned to the -officer in command of the post that we would send him three hundred men -at five o'clock in the morning. The African volunteers will be caught in -a trap. Not one of them will come back alive."</p> - -<p>The major gave a little laugh of satisfaction and turned up the collar -of his cloak as he added:</p> - -<p>"Besides, to make doubly sure, I shall go and spend the night there -. . . especially as I am beginning to wonder whether the officer -commanding the post did not chance to send some men here with -instructions to take the papers off Rosenthal, whom he knew to be dead."</p> - -<p>"But . . ."</p> - -<p>"That'll do. Have Rosenthal seen to and let's be off."</p> - -<p>"Am I to go with you, <i>Excellenz</i>?"</p> - -<p>"No, there's no need. One of the boats will take me up the canal. The -house is not forty minutes from here."</p> - -<p>In answer to the spy's call, three soldiers came down and hoisted the -dead man's body to the trap-door overhead. Karl and the major both -remained where they were, at the foot of the ladder, while Karl turned -the light of the lantern, which he had taken down from the wall, towards -the trap-door.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>Bernard whispered:</p> - -<p>"Shall we fire now?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Paul.</p> - -<p>"But . . ."</p> - -<p>"I forbid you."</p> - -<p>When the operation was over, the major said to Karl:</p> - -<p>"Give me a good light and see that the ladder doesn't slip."</p> - -<p>He went up and disappeared from sight.</p> - -<p>"All right," he said. "Hurry."</p> - -<p>The spy climbed the ladder in his turn. Their footsteps were heard -overhead. The steps moved in the direction of the canal and there was -not a sound.</p> - -<p>"What on earth came over you?" cried Bernard. "We shall never have -another chance like that. The two ruffians would have dropped at the -first shot."</p> - -<p>"And we after them," said Paul. "There were twelve of them up there. We -should have been doomed."</p> - -<p>"But Élisabeth would have been saved, Paul! Upon my word, I don't -understand you. Fancy having two monsters like that at our mercy and -letting them go! The man who murdered your father and who is torturing -Élisabeth was there; and you think of ourselves!"</p> - -<p>"Bernard," said Paul Delroze, "you didn't understand what they said at -the end, in German. The enemy has been warned of the attack and of our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> -plans against the ferryman's house. In a little while, the hundred -volunteers who are stealing up through the marsh will be the victims of -an ambush laid for them. We've got to save them first. We have no right -to sacrifice our lives before performing that duty. And I am sure that -you agree with me."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Bernard. "But all the same it was a grand opportunity."</p> - -<p>"We shall have another and perhaps soon," said Paul, thinking of the -ferryman's house to which Major Hermann was now on his way.</p> - -<p>"Well, what do you propose to do?"</p> - -<p>"I shall join the detachment of volunteers. If the lieutenant in command -is of my opinion, he will not wait until seven to deliver the assault, -but attack at once. And I shall be of the party."</p> - -<p>"And I?"</p> - -<p>"Go back to the colonel. Explain the position to him and tell him that -the ferryman's house will be captured this morning and that we shall -hold it until reinforcements come up."</p> - -<p>They parted with no more words and Paul plunged resolutely into the -marshes.</p> - -<p>The task which he was undertaking did not meet with the obstacles he -expected. After forty minutes of rather difficult progress, he heard the -murmur of voices, gave the password and told the men to take him to the -lieutenant.</p> - -<p>Paul's explanations at once convinced that offi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>cer: the job must either -be abandoned or hurried on at once.</p> - -<p>The column went ahead. At three o'clock, guided by a peasant who knew a -path where the men sank no deeper than their knees, they succeeded in -reaching the neighborhood of the house unperceived. Then, when the alarm -had been given by a sentry, the attack began.</p> - -<p>This attack, one of the finest feats of arms in the war, is too well -known to need a detailed description here. It was extremely violent. The -enemy, who was on his guard, made an equally vigorous defense. There was -a tangle of barbed wire to be forced and many pitfalls to be overcome. A -furious hand-to-hand fight took place first outside and then inside the -house; and, by the time that the French had gained the victory after -killing or taking prisoner the eighty-three Germans who defended it, -they themselves had suffered losses which reduced their effective force -by half.</p> - -<p>Paul was the first to leap into the trenches, the line of which ran -beside the house on the left and was extended in a semicircle as far as -the Yser. He had an idea: before the attack succeeded and before it was -even certain that it would succeed, he wanted to cut off all retreat on -the part of the fugitives.</p> - -<p>Driven back at first, he made for the bank, followed by three -volunteers, stepped into the water, went up the canal and thus came to -the other side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> of the house, where, as he expected, he found a bridge -of boats.</p> - -<p>At that moment, he saw a figure disappearing in the darkness.</p> - -<p>"Stay here," he said to his men, "and let no one pass."</p> - -<p>He himself jumped out of the water, crossed the bridge and began to run.</p> - -<p>A searchlight was thrown on the canal bank and he again perceived the -figure, thirty yards in front of him.</p> - -<p>A minute later, he shouted:</p> - -<p>"Halt, or I fire!"</p> - -<p>And, as the man continued to run, he fired, but aimed so as not to hit -him.</p> - -<p>The fugitive stopped and fired his revolver four times, while Paul, -stooping down, flung himself between his legs and brought him to the -ground.</p> - -<p>The enemy, seeing that he was mastered, offered no resistance. Paul -rolled his cloak round him and took him by the throat. With the hand -that remained free, he threw the light of his pocket-lamp full on the -other's face.</p> - -<p>His instinct had not deceived him: the man he held by the throat was -Major Hermann.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /> -<span class="smalltext">THE FERRYMAN'S HOUSE</span></h2> - - -<p>Paul Delroze did not speak a word. Pushing his prisoner in front of him, -after tying the major's wrists behind his back, he returned to the -bridge of boats in the darkness illumined by brief flashes of light.</p> - -<p>The fighting continued. But a certain number of the enemy tried to run -away; and, when the volunteers who guarded the bridge received them with -a volley of fire, the Germans thought that they had been cut off; and -this diversion hastened their defeat.</p> - -<p>When Paul arrived, the combat was over. But the enemy was bound, sooner -or later, to deliver a counter-attack, supported by the reinforcements -that had been promised to the commandant; and the defense was prepared -forthwith.</p> - -<p>The ferryman's house, which had been strongly fortified by the Germans -and surrounded with trenches, consisted of a ground floor and an upper -story of three rooms, now knocked into one. At the back of this large -room, however, was a recess with a sloping roof, reached by three steps, -which at one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> time had done duty as a servant's attic. Paul, who was -entrusted with the arrangement of this upper floor, brought his prisoner -here. He laid him on the floor, bound him with a cord and fastened him -to a beam; and, while doing so, he was seized with such a paroxysm of -hatred that he took him by the throat as though to strangle him.</p> - -<p>He mastered himself, however. After all, there was no hurry. Before -killing the man or handing him over to the soldiers to be shot against -the wall, why deny himself the supreme satisfaction of having an -explanation with him?</p> - -<p>When the lieutenant entered, Paul said, so as to be heard by all and -especially by the major:</p> - -<p>"I recommend that scoundrel to your care, lieutenant. It's Major -Hermann, one of the chief spies in the German army. I have the proofs on -me. Remember that, in case anything happens to me. And, if we should -have to retreat. . . ."</p> - -<p>The lieutenant smiled:</p> - -<p>"There's no question of that. We shall not retreat, for the very good -reason that I would rather blow up the shanty first. And Major Hermann, -therefore, would be blown up with us. So make your mind easy."</p> - -<p>The two officers discussed the defensive measures to be adopted; and the -men quickly got to work.</p> - -<p>First of all, the bridge of boats was unmade, trenches dug along the -canal and the machine-guns<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> turned to face the other way. Paul, on his -first floor, had the sandbags moved from the one side of the house to -the other and the less solid-looking portions of the wall shored up with -beams.</p> - -<p>At half-past five, under the rays of the German flashlights, several -shells fell round about. One of them struck the house. The big guns -began to sweep the towpath.</p> - -<p>A few minutes before daybreak, a detachment of cyclists arrived by this -path, with Bernard d'Andeville at their head. He explained that two -companies and a section of sappers in advance of a complete battalion -had started, but their progress was hampered by the enemy's shells and -they were obliged to skirt the marshes, under the cover of the dyke -supporting the towpath. This had slowed their march; and it would be an -hour before they could arrive.</p> - -<p>"An hour," said the lieutenant. "It will be stiff work. Still, we can do -it. So . . ."</p> - -<p>While he was giving new orders and placing the cyclists at their posts, -Paul came up; and he was just going to tell Bernard of Major Hermann's -capture, when his brother-in-law announced his news:</p> - -<p>"I say, Paul, dad's with me!"</p> - -<p>Paul gave a start:</p> - -<p>"Your father is here? Your father came with you?"</p> - -<p>"Just so; and in the most natural manner. You must know that he had been -looking for an oppor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>tunity for some time. By the way, he has been -promoted to interpreter lieutenant. . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul was no longer listening. He merely said to himself:</p> - -<p>"M. d'Andeville is here. . . . M. d'Andeville, the Comtesse Hermine's -husband. He must know, surely. Is she alive or dead? Or has he been the -dupe of a scheming woman to the end and does he still bear a loving -recollection of one who has vanished from his life? But no, that's -incredible, because there is that photograph, taken four years later and -sent to him: sent to him from Berlin! So he knows; and then . . . ?"</p> - -<p>Paul was greatly perplexed. The revelations made by Karl the spy had -suddenly revealed M. d'Andeville in a startling light. And now -circumstances were bringing M. d'Andeville into Paul's presence, at the -very time when Major Hermann had been captured.</p> - -<p>Paul turned towards the attic. The major was lying motionless, with his -face against the wall.</p> - -<p>"Your father has remained outside?" Paul asked his brother-in-law.</p> - -<p>"Yes, he took the bicycle of a man who was riding near us and who was -slightly wounded. Papa is seeing to him."</p> - -<p>"Go and fetch him; and, if the lieutenant doesn't object . . ."</p> - -<p>He was interrupted by the bursting of a shrapnel shell the bullets of -which riddled the sandbags heaped up in the front of them. The day was -breaking.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> They could see an enemy column looming out of the darkness a -mile away at most.</p> - -<p>"Ready there!" shouted the lieutenant from below. "Don't fire a shot -till I give the order. No one to show himself!"</p> - -<p>It was not until a quarter of an hour later and then only for four or -five minutes that Paul and M. d'Andeville were able to exchange a few -words. Their conversation, moreover, was so greatly hurried that Paul -had no time to decide what attitude he should take up in the presence of -Élisabeth's father. The tragedy of the past, the part which the Comtesse -Hermine's husband played in that tragedy: all this was mingled in his -mind with the defense of the block-house. And, in spite of their great -liking for each other, their greeting was somewhat absent and -distracted.</p> - -<p>Paul was ordering a small window to be stopped with a mattress. Bernard -was posted at the other end of the room.</p> - -<p>M. d'Andeville said to Paul:</p> - -<p>"You're sure of holding out, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>"Absolutely, as we've got to."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you've got to. I was with the division yesterday, with the English -general to whom I am attached as interpreter, when the attack was -decided on. The position seems to be of essential importance; and it is -indispensable that we should stick to it. I saw that this gave me an -opportunity of seeing you, Paul, as I knew that your regiment was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> to be -here. So I asked leave to accompany the contingent that had been ordered -to. . . ."</p> - -<p>There was a fresh interruption. A shell came through the roof and -shattered the wall on the side opposite to the canal.</p> - -<p>"Any one hurt?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>M. d'Andeville went on:</p> - -<p>"The strangest part of it was finding Bernard at your colonel's last -night. You can imagine how glad I was to join the cyclists. It was my -only chance of seeing something of my boy and of shaking you by the -hand. . . . And then I had no news of my poor Élisabeth; and Bernard -told me. . . ."</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Paul quickly, "has Bernard told you all that happened at the -château?"</p> - -<p>"At least, as much as he knew; but there are a good many things that are -difficult to understand; and Bernard says that you have more precise -details. For instance, why did Élisabeth stay at the château?"</p> - -<p>"Because she wanted to," said Paul. "I was not told of her decision -until later, by letter."</p> - -<p>"I know. But why didn't you take her with you, Paul?"</p> - -<p>"When I left Ornequin, I made all the necessary arrangements for her to -go."</p> - -<p>"Good. But you ought not to have left Ornequin without her. All the -trouble is due to that."</p> - -<p>M. d'Andeville had been speaking with a certain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> acerbity, and, as Paul -did not answer, he asked again:</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you take Élisabeth away? Bernard said that there was -something very serious, that you spoke of exceptional circumstances. -Perhaps you won't mind explaining."</p> - -<p>Paul seemed to suspect a latent hostility in M. d'Andeville; and this -irritated him all the more on the part of a man whose conduct now -appeared to him so perplexing:</p> - -<p>"Do you think," he said, "that this is quite the moment?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes, yes. We may be separated any minute. . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul did not allow him to finish. He turned abruptly towards his -father-in-law and exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"You are right, sir! It's a horrible idea. It would be terrible if I -were not able to reply to your questions or you to mine. Élisabeth's -fate perhaps depends on the few words which we are about to speak. For -we must know the truth between us. A single word may bring it to light; -and there is no time to be lost. We must speak out now. . . . Whatever -happens."</p> - -<p>His excitement surprised M. d'Andeville, who asked:</p> - -<p>"Wouldn't it be as well to call Bernard over?"</p> - -<p>"No, no," said Paul, "on no account! It's a thing that he mustn't know -about, because it concerns. . . ."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>"Because it concerns whom?" asked M. d'Andeville, who was more and more -astonished.</p> - -<p>A man standing near them was hit by a bullet and fell. Paul rushed to -his assistance; but the man had been shot through the forehead and was -dead. Two more bullets entered through an opening which was wider than -it need be; and Paul ordered it to be partly closed up.</p> - -<p>M. d'Andeville, who had been helping him, pursued the conversation:</p> - -<p>"You were saying that Bernard must not hear because it concerns. . . ."</p> - -<p>"His mother," Paul replied.</p> - -<p>"His mother? What do you mean? His mother? It concerns my wife? I don't -understand. . . ."</p> - -<p>Through the loopholes in the wall they could see three enemy columns -advancing, above the flooded fields, moving forward on narrow causeways -which converged towards the canal opposite the ferryman's house.</p> - -<p>"We shall fire when they are two hundred yards from the canal," said the -lieutenant commanding the volunteers, who had come to inspect the -defenses. "If only their guns don't knock the shanty about too much!"</p> - -<p>"Where are our reinforcements?" asked Paul.</p> - -<p>"They'll be here in thirty or forty minutes. Meantime the seventy-fives -are doing good work."</p> - -<p>The shells were flying through space in both directions, some falling in -the midst of the German col<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>umns, others around the blockhouse. Paul ran -to every side, encouraging and directing the men. From time to time he -went to the attic and looked at Major Hermann, who lay perfectly still. -Then Paul returned to his post.</p> - -<p>He did not for a second cease to think of the duty incumbent on him as -an officer and a combatant, nor for a second of what he had to say to M. -d'Andeville. But these two mingled obsessions deprived him of all -lucidity of mind! and he did not know how to come to an explanation with -his father-in-law or how to unravel the tangled position. M. d'Andeville -asked his question several times. He did not reply.</p> - -<p>The lieutenant's voice was raised:</p> - -<p>"Attention! . . . Present! . . . Fire! . . ."</p> - -<p>The command was repeated four times over. The nearest enemy column, -decimated by the bullets, seemed to waver. But the others came up with -it; and it formed up again.</p> - -<p>Two German shells burst against the house. The roof was carried away -bodily, several feet of the frontage were demolished and three men -killed.</p> - -<p>After the storm, a calm. But Paul had so clear a sense of the danger -which threatened them all that he was unable to contain himself any -longer. Suddenly making up his mind, addressing M. d'Andeville without -further preamble, he said:</p> - -<p>"One word in particular. . . . I must know. . . . Are you quite sure -that the Comtesse d'Andeville is dead?" And without waiting for the -reply, he went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> on: "Yes, you think my question mad. It seems so to you -because you do not know. But I am not mad; and I ask you to answer my -question as you would do if I had the time to state the reasons that -justify me in asking it. Is the Comtesse Hermine dead?"</p> - -<p>M. d'Andeville, restraining his feelings and consenting to adopt the -hypothesis which Paul seemed to insist on, said:</p> - -<p>"Is there any reason that allows you to presume that my wife is still -alive?"</p> - -<p>"There are very serious reasons, I might say, incontestable reasons."</p> - -<p>M. d'Andeville shrugged his shoulders and said, in a firm voice:</p> - -<p>"My wife died in my arms. My lips touched her icy hands, felt that chill -of death which is so horrible in those we love. I myself dressed her, as -she had asked, in her wedding gown; and I was there when they nailed -down the coffin. Anything else?"</p> - -<p>Paul listened to him and thought to himself:</p> - -<p>"Has he spoken the truth? Yes, he has; and still how can I admit -. . . ?"</p> - -<p>Speaking more imperiously, M. d'Andeville repeated:</p> - -<p>"Anything else?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Paul, "one more question. There was a portrait in the -Comtesse d'Andeville's boudoir: was that her portrait?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>"Certainly, her full length portrait."</p> - -<p>"Showing her with a black lace scarf over her shoulders?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the kind of scarf she liked wearing."</p> - -<p>"And the scarf was fastened in front by a cameo set in a gold snake?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, it was an old cameo which belonged to my mother and which my wife -always wore."</p> - -<p>Paul yielded to thoughtless impulse. M. d'Andeville's assertions seemed -to him so many admissions; and, trembling with rage, he rapped out:</p> - -<p>"Monsieur, you have not forgotten, have you, that my father was -murdered? We often spoke of it, you and I. He was your friend. Well, the -woman who murdered him and whom I saw, the woman whose image has stamped -itself on my brain wore a black lace scarf round her shoulders and a -cameo set in a gold snake. And I found this woman's portrait in your -wife's room. Yes, I saw her portrait on my wedding evening. Do you -understand now? Do you understand or don't you?"</p> - -<p>It was a tragic moment between the two men. M. d'Andeville stood -trembling, with his hands clutching his rifle.</p> - -<p>"Why is he trembling?" Paul asked himself; and his suspicions increased -until they became an actual accusation. "Is it a feeling of protest or -his rage at being unmasked that makes him shake like that? And am I to -look upon him as his wife's accomplice? For, after all. . . ."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>He felt a fierce grip twisting his arm. M. d'Andeville, gray in the -face, blurted out:</p> - -<p>"How dare you? How dare you suggest that my wife murdered your father? -Why, you must be drunk! My wife, a saint in the sight of God and man! -And you dare! Oh, I don't know what keeps me from smashing your face -in!"</p> - -<p>Paul released himself roughly. The two men, shaking with a rage which -was increased by the din of the firing and the madness of their quarrel, -were on the verge of coming to blows while the shells and bullets -whistled all around them.</p> - -<p>Then a new strip of wall fell to pieces. Paul gave his orders and, at -the same time, thought of Major Hermann lying in his corner, to whom he -could have brought M. d'Andeville like a criminal who is confronted with -his accomplice. But why then did he not do so?</p> - -<p>Suddenly remembering the photograph of the Comtesse Hermine which he had -found on Rosenthal's body, he took it from his pocket and thrust it in -front of M. d'Andeville's eyes:</p> - -<p>"And this?" he shouted. "Do you know what this is? . . . There's a date -on it, 1902, and you pretend that the Comtesse Hermine is dead! . . . -Answer me, can't you? A photograph taken in Berlin and sent to you by -your wife four years after her death!"</p> - -<p>M. d'Andeville staggered. It was as though all his rage had evaporated -and was changing into infinite stupefaction. Paul brandished before his -face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> the overwhelming proof constituted by that bit of cardboard. And -he heard M. d'Andeville mutter:</p> - -<p>"Who can have stolen it from me? It was among my papers in Paris. . . . -Why didn't I tear it up? . . ." Then he added, in a very low whisper, -"Oh, Hermine, Hermine, my adored one!"</p> - -<p>Surely it was an avowal? But, if so, what was the meaning of an avowal -expressed in those terms and with that declaration of love for a woman -laden with crime and infamy?</p> - -<p>The lieutenant shouted from the ground floor:</p> - -<p>"Everybody into the trenches, except ten men. Delroze, keep the best -shots and order independent firing."</p> - -<p>The volunteers, headed by Bernard, hurried downstairs. The enemy was -approaching the canal, in spite of the losses which he had sustained. In -fact, on the right and left, knots of pioneers, constantly renewed, were -already striving with might and main to collect the boats stranded on -the bank. The lieutenant in command of the volunteers formed his men -into a first line of defense against the imminent assault, while the -sharpshooters in the house had orders to kill without ceasing under the -storm of shells.</p> - -<p>One by one, five of these marksmen fell.</p> - -<p>Paul and M. d'Andeville were here, there and everywhere, while -consulting one another as to the commands to be given and the things to -be done. There was not the least chance, in view of their great -inferiority in numbers, that they would be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> able to resist. But there -was some hope of their holding out until the arrival of the -reinforcements, which would ensure the possession of the blockhouse.</p> - -<p>The French artillery, finding it impossible to secure an effective aim -amid the confusion of the combatants, had ceased fire, whereas the -German guns were still bombarding the house; and shells were bursting at -every moment.</p> - -<p>Yet another man was wounded. He was carried into the attic and laid -beside Major Hermann, where he died almost immediately.</p> - -<p>Outside, there was fighting on and even in the water of the canal, in -the boats and around them. There were hand-to-hand contests amid general -uproar, yells of execration and pain, cries of terror and shouts of -victory. The confusion was so great that Paul and M. d'Andeville found -it difficult to take aim.</p> - -<p>Paul said to his father-in-law:</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid we may be done for before assistance arrives. I am bound -therefore to warn you that the lieutenant has made his arrangements to -blow up the house. As you are here by accident, without any -authorization that gives you the quality or duties of a combatant. -. . ."</p> - -<p>"I am here as a Frenchman," said M. d'Andeville, "and I shall stay on to -the end."</p> - -<p>"Then perhaps we shall have time to finish what we have to say, sir. -Listen to me. I will be as brief as I can. But if you should see the -least glim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>mer of light, please do not hesitate to interrupt me."</p> - -<p>He fully understood that there was a gulf of darkness between them and -that, whether guilty or not, whether his wife's accomplice or her dupe, -M. d'Andeville must know things which he, Paul, did not know and that -these things could only be made plain by an adequate recital of what had -happened.</p> - -<p>He therefore began to speak. He spoke calmly and deliberately, while M. -d'Andeville listened in silence. And they never ceased firing, quietly -loading, aiming and reloading, as though they were at practise. All -around and above them death pursued its implacable work.</p> - -<p>Paul had hardly described his arrival at Ornequin with Élisabeth, their -entrance into the locked room and his dismay at the sight of the -portrait, when an enormous shell exploded over their heads, spattering -them with shrapnel bullets.</p> - -<p>The four volunteers were hit. Paul also fell, wounded in the neck; and, -though he suffered no pain, he felt that all his ideas were gradually -fading into a mist without his being able to retain them. He made an -effort, however, and by some miracle of will was still able to exercise -a remnant of energy that allowed him to keep his hold on certain -reflections and impressions. Thus he saw his father-in-law kneeling -beside him and succeeded in saying to him:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>"Élisabeth's diary. . . . You'll find it in my kit-bag in camp . . . -with a few pages written by myself . . . which will explain. . . . But -first you must . . . Look, that German officer over there, bound up -. . . he's a spy. . . . Keep an eye on him. . . . Kill him. . . . If -not, on the tenth of January . . . but you will kill him, won't you?"</p> - -<p>Paul could speak no more. Besides, he saw that M. d'Andeville was not -kneeling down to listen to him or help him, but that, himself shot, with -his face bathed in blood, he was bending double and finally fell in a -huddled heap, uttering moans that grew fainter and fainter.</p> - -<p>A great calm now descended on the big room, while the rifles crackled -outside. The German guns were no longer firing. The enemy's -counter-attack must be meeting with success; and Paul, incapable of -moving, lay awaiting the terrible explosion foretold by the lieutenant.</p> - -<p>He pronounced Élisabeth's name time after time. He reflected that no -danger threatened her now, because Major Hermann was also about to die. -Besides, her brother Bernard would know how to defend her. But after a -while this sort of tranquillity disappeared, changed into uneasiness and -then into restless anxiety, giving way to a feeling of which every -second that passed increased the torture. He could not tell whether he -was haunted by a nightmare, by some morbid hallucination. It all -hap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>pened on the side of the attic to which he had dragged Major -Hermann. A soldier's dead body was lying between them. And it seemed, to -his horror, as if the major had cut his bonds and were rising to his -feet and looking around him.</p> - -<p>Paul exerted all his strength to open his eyes and keep them open. But -an ever thicker shadow veiled them; and through this shadow he -perceived, as one sees a confused sight in the darkness, the major -taking off his cloak, stooping over the body, removing its blue coat and -buttoning it on himself. Then he put the dead man's cap on his head, -fastened his scarf round his neck, took the soldier's rifle, bayonet and -cartridges and, thus transfigured, stepped down the three wooden stairs.</p> - -<p>It was a terrible vision. Paul would have been glad to doubt his eyes, -to believe in some phantom image born of his fever and delirium. But -everything confirmed the reality of what he saw; and it meant to him the -most infernal suffering. The major was making his escape!</p> - -<p>Paul was too weak to contemplate the position in all its bearings. Was -the major thinking of killing him and of killing M. d'Andeville? Did the -major know that they were there, both of them wounded, within reach of -his hand? Paul never asked himself these questions. One idea alone -obsessed his failing mind. Major Hermann was escaping. Thanks to his -uniform, he would mingle with the volunteers!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> By the aid of some -signal, he would get back to the Germans! And he would be free! And he -would resume his work of persecution, his deadly work, against -Élisabeth!</p> - -<p>Oh, if the explosion had only taken place! If the ferryman's house could -but be blown up and the major with it! . . .</p> - -<p>Paul still clung to this hope in his half-conscious condition. Meanwhile -his reason was wavering. His thoughts became more and more confused. And -he swiftly sank into that darkness in which one neither sees nor hears. -. . .</p> - -<hr class="thin" /> - -<p>Three weeks later the general commanding in chief stepped from his motor -car in front of an old château in the Bourbonnais, now transformed into -a military hospital. The officer in charge was waiting for him at the -door.</p> - -<p>"Does Second Lieutenant Delroze know that I am coming to see him?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"Take me to his room."</p> - -<p>Paul Delroze was sitting up. His neck was bandaged; but his features -were calm and showed no traces of fatigue. Much moved by the presence of -the great chief whose energy and coolness had saved France, he rose to -the salute. But the general gave him his hand and exclaimed, in a kind -and affectionate voice:</p> - -<p>"Sit down, Lieutenant Delroze. . . . I say lieu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>tenant, for you were -promoted yesterday. No, no thanks. By Jove, we are still your debtors! -So you're up and about?"</p> - -<p>"Why, yes, sir. The wound wasn't much."</p> - -<p>"So much the better. I'm satisfied with all my officers; but, for all -that, we don't find fellows like you by the dozen. Your colonel has sent -in a special report about you which sets forth such an array of acts of -incomparable bravery that I have half a mind to break my own rule and to -make the report public."</p> - -<p>"No, please don't, sir."</p> - -<p>"You are right, Delroze. It is the first attribute of heroism that it -likes to remain anonymous; and it is France alone that must have all the -glory for the time being. So I shall be content for the present to -mention you once more in the orders of the day and to hand you the cross -for which you were already recommended."</p> - -<p>"I don't know how to thank you, sir."</p> - -<p>"In addition, my dear fellow, if there's the least thing you want, I -insist that you should give me this opportunity of doing it for you."</p> - -<p>Paul nodded his head and smiled. All this cordial kindness and -attentiveness were putting him at his ease.</p> - -<p>"But suppose I want too much, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Go ahead."</p> - -<p>"Very well, sir, I accept. And what I ask is this: first of all, a -fortnight's sick leave, counting from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> Saturday, the ninth of January, -the day on which I shall be leaving the hospital."</p> - -<p>"That's not a favor, that's a right."</p> - -<p>"I know, sir. But I must have the right to spend my leave where I -please."</p> - -<p>"Very well."</p> - -<p>"And more than that: I must have in my pocket a permit written in your -own hand, sir, which will give me every latitude to move about as I wish -in the French lines and to call for any assistance that can be of use to -me."</p> - -<p>The general looked at Paul for a moment, and said:</p> - -<p>"That's a serious request you're making, Delroze."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, I know it is. But the thing I want to undertake is serious -too."</p> - -<p>"All right, I agree. Anything more?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, Sergeant Bernard d'Andeville, my brother-in-law, took part as -I did in the action at the ferryman's house. He was wounded like myself -and brought to the same hospital, from which he will probably be -discharged at the same time. I should like him to have the same leave -and to receive permission to accompany me."</p> - -<p>"I agree. Anything more?"</p> - -<p>"Bernard's father, Comte Stéphane d'Andeville, second lieutenant -interpreter attached to the British army, was also wounded on that day -by my side. I have learnt that his wound, though serious, is not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> likely -to prove fatal and that he has been moved to an English hospital, I -don't know which. I would ask you to send for him as soon as he is well -and to keep him on your staff until I come to you and report on the task -which I have taken in hand."</p> - -<p>"Very well. Is that all?"</p> - -<p>"Very nearly, sir. It only remains for me to thank you for your kindness -by asking you to give me a list of twenty French prisoners, now in -Germany, in whom you take a special interest. Those twenty prisoners -will be free in a fortnight from now at most."</p> - -<p>"Eh? What's that?"</p> - -<p>For all his coolness, the general seemed a little taken aback. He -echoed:</p> - -<p>"Free in a fortnight from now! Twenty prisoners!"</p> - -<p>"I give you my promise, sir."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk nonsense."</p> - -<p>"It shall be as I say."</p> - -<p>"Whatever the prisoners' rank? Whatever their social position?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"And by regular means, means that can be avowed?"</p> - -<p>"By means to which there can be no possible objection."</p> - -<p>The general looked at Paul again with the eye of a leader who is in the -habit of judging men and reckoning them at their true value. He knew -that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> the man before him was not a boaster, but a man of action and a -man of his word, who went straight ahead and kept his promises. He -replied:</p> - -<p>"Very well, Delroze, you shall have your list to-morrow."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /> -<span class="smalltext">A MASTERPIECE OF KULTUR</span></h2> - - -<p>On the morning of Sunday, the tenth of January, Lieutenant Delroze and -Sergeant d'Andeville stepped on to the platform at Corvigny, went to -call on the commandant of the town and then took a carriage in which -they drove to the Château d'Ornequin.</p> - -<p>"All the same," said Bernard, stretching out his legs in the fly, "I -never thought that things would turn out as they have done when I was -hit by a splinter of shrapnel between the Yser and the ferryman's house. -What a hot corner it was just then! Believe me or believe me not, Paul, -if our reinforcements hadn't come up, we should have been done for in -another five minutes. We were jolly lucky!"</p> - -<p>"We were indeed," said Paul. "I felt that next day, when I woke up in a -French ambulance!"</p> - -<p>"What I can't get over, though," Bernard continued, "is the way that -blackguard of a Major Hermann made off. So you took him prisoner? And -then you saw him unfasten his bonds and escape? The cheek of the rascal! -You may be sure he got away safe and sound!"</p> - -<p>Paul muttered:</p> - -<p>"I haven't a doubt of it; and I don't doubt either<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> that he means to -carry out his threats against Élisabeth."</p> - -<p>"Bosh! We have forty-eight hours before us, as he gave his pal Karl the -tenth of January as the date of his arrival and he won't act until two -days later."</p> - -<p>"And suppose he acts to-day?" said Paul, in a husky voice.</p> - -<p>Notwithstanding his anguish, however, the drive did not seem long to -him. He was at last approaching—and this time really—the object from -which each day of the last four months had removed him to a greater -distance. Ornequin was on the frontier; and Èbrecourt was but a few -minutes from the frontier. He refused to think of the obstacles which -would intervene before he could reach Èbrecourt, discover his wife's -retreat and save her. He was alive. Élisabeth was alive. No obstacles -existed between him and her.</p> - -<p>The Château d'Ornequin, or rather what remained of it—for even the -ruins of the château had been subjected to a fresh bombardment in -November—was serving as a cantonment for territorial troops, whose -first line of trenches skirted the frontier. There was not much fighting -on this side, because, for tactical reasons, it was not to the enemy's -advantage to push too far forward. The defenses were of equal strength; -and a very active watch was kept on either side.</p> - -<p>These were the particulars which Paul obtained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> from the territorial -lieutenant with whom he lunched.</p> - -<p>"My dear fellow," concluded the officer, after Paul had told him the -object of his journey, "I am altogether at your service; but, if it's a -question of getting from Ornequin to Èbrecourt, you can make up your -mind that you won't do it."</p> - -<p>"I shall do it all right."</p> - -<p>"It'll have to be through the air then," said the officer, with a laugh.</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Or underground."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps."</p> - -<p>"There you're wrong. We wanted ourselves to do some sapping and mining. -It was no use. We're on a deposit of rock in which it's impossible to -dig."</p> - -<p>It was Paul's turn to smile:</p> - -<p>"My dear chap, if you'll just be kind enough to lend me for one hour -four strong men armed with picks and shovels, I shall be at Èbrecourt -to-night."</p> - -<p>"I say! Four men to dig a six-mile tunnel through the rock in an hour!"</p> - -<p>"That's ample. Also, you must promise absolute secrecy both as to the -means employed and the rather curious discoveries to which they are -bound to lead. I shall make a report to the general commanding in chief; -but no one else is to know."</p> - -<p>"Very well, I'll select my four fellows for you myself. Where am I to -bring them to you?"</p> - -<p>"On the terrace, near the donjon."</p> - -<p>This terrace commands the Liseron from a height<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> of some hundred and -fifty feet and, in consequence of a loop in the river, is exactly -opposite Corvigny, whose steeple and the neighboring hills are seen in -the distance. Of the castle-keep nothing remains but its enormous base, -which is continued by the foundation-walls, mingled with natural rocks, -which support the terrace. A garden extends its clumps of laurels and -spindle-trees to the parapet.</p> - -<p>It was here that Paul went. Time after time he strode up and down the -esplanade, leaning over the river and inspecting the blocks that had -fallen from the keep under the mantle of ivy.</p> - -<p>"Now then," said the lieutenant, on arriving with his men. "Is this your -starting-point? I warn you we are standing with our backs to the -frontier."</p> - -<p>"Pooh!" replied Paul, in the same jesting tone. "All roads lead to -Berlin!"</p> - -<p>He pointed to a circle which he had marked out with stakes, and set the -men to work:</p> - -<p>"Go ahead, my lads."</p> - -<p>They began to throw up, within a circle of three yards in circumference, -a soil consisting of vegetable mold in which, in twenty minutes' time, -they had dug a hole five feet deep. Here they came upon a layer of -stones cemented together; and their work now became much more difficult, -for the cement was of incredible hardness and they were only to break it -up by inserting their picks into the cracks. Paul followed the -operations with anxious attention.</p> - -<p>After an hour, he told them to stop. He himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> went down into the hole -and then went on digging, but slowly and as though examining the effect -of every blow that he struck.</p> - -<p>"That's it!" he said, drawing himself up.</p> - -<p>"What?" asked Bernard.</p> - -<p>"The ground on which we are standing is only a floor of the big -buildings that used to adjoin the old keep, buildings which were razed -to the ground centuries ago and on the top of which this garden was laid -out."</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"Well, in clearing away the soil, I have broken through the ceiling of -one of the old rooms. Look."</p> - -<p>He took a stone, placed it right in the center of the narrower opening -which he himself had made and let it drop. The stone disappeared. A dull -sound followed almost immediately.</p> - -<p>"All that need now be done is for the men to widen the entrance. In the -meantime, we will go and fetch a ladder and lights: as much light as -possible."</p> - -<p>"We have pine torches," said the officer.</p> - -<p>"That will do capitally."</p> - -<p>Paul was right. When the ladder was let down and he had descended with -the lieutenant and Bernard, they saw a very large hall, whose vaults -were supported by massive pillars which divided it, like a church of -irregular design, into two main naves, with narrower and lower -side-aisles.</p> - -<p>But Paul at once called his companions' attention to the floor of those -two naves:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>"A concrete flooring, do you see? . . . And, look there, as I expected, -two rails running along one of the upper galleries! . . . And here are -two more rails in the other gallery! . . ."</p> - -<p>"But what does it all mean?" exclaimed Bernard and the lieutenant.</p> - -<p>"It means simply this," said Paul, "that we have before us what is -evidently the explanation of the great mystery surrounding the capture -of Corvigny and its two forts."</p> - -<p>"How?"</p> - -<p>"Corvigny and its two forts were demolished in a few minutes, weren't -they? Where did those gunshots come from, considering that Corvigny is -fifteen miles from the frontier and that not one of the enemy's guns had -crossed the frontier? They came from here, from this underground -fortress."</p> - -<p>"Impossible."</p> - -<p>"Here are the rails on which they moved the two gigantic pieces which -were responsible for the bombardment."</p> - -<p>"I say! You can't bombard from the bottom of a cavern! Where are the -embrasures?"</p> - -<p>"The rails will take us there. Show a good light, Bernard. Look, here's -a platform mounted on a pivot. It's a good size, eh? And here's the -other platform."</p> - -<p>"But the embrasures?"</p> - -<p>"In front of you, Bernard."</p> - -<p>"That's a wall."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>"It's the wall which, together with the rock of the hill, supports the -terrace above the Liseron, opposite Corvigny. And two circular breaches -were made in the wall and afterwards closed up again. You can see the -traces of the closing quite plainly."</p> - -<p>Bernard and the lieutenant could not get over their astonishment:</p> - -<p>"Why, it's an enormous work!" said the officer.</p> - -<p>"Absolutely colossal!" replied Paul. "But don't be too much surprised, -my dear fellow. It was begun sixteen or seventeen years ago, to my own -knowledge. Besides, as I told you, part of the work was already done, -because we are in the lower rooms of the old Ornequin buildings; and, -having found them, all they had to do was to arrange them according to -the object which they had in view. There is something much more -astounding, though!"</p> - -<p>"What is that?"</p> - -<p>"The tunnel which they had to build in order to bring their two pieces -here."</p> - -<p>"A tunnel?"</p> - -<p>"Well, of course! How do you expect they got here? Let's follow the -rails, in the other direction, and we'll soon come to the tunnel."</p> - -<p>As he anticipated, the two sets of rails joined a little way back and -they saw the yawning entrance to a tunnel about nine feet wide and the -same height. It dipped under ground, sloping very gently. The walls were -of brick. No damp oozed through the walls; and the ground itself was -perfectly dry.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>"Èbrecourt branch-line," said Paul, laughing. "Seven miles in the shade. -And that is how the stronghold of Corvigny was bagged. First, a few -thousand men passed through, who killed off the little Ornequin garrison -and the posts on the frontier and then went on to the town. At the same -time, the two huge guns were brought up, mounted and trained upon sites -located beforehand. When these had done their business, they were -removed and the holes stopped up. All this didn't take two hours."</p> - -<p>"But to achieve those two decisive hours the Kaiser worked for seventeen -years, bless him!" said Bernard. "Well, let's make a start."</p> - -<p>"Would you like my men to go with you?" suggested the lieutenant.</p> - -<p>"No, thank you. It's better that my brother-in-law and I should go by -ourselves. If we find, however, that the enemy has destroyed his tunnel, -we will come back and ask for help. But it will astonish me if he has. -Apart from the fact that he has taken every precaution lest the -existence of the tunnel should be discovered, he is likely to have kept -it intact in case he himself might want to use it again."</p> - -<p>And so, at three o'clock in the afternoon, the two brothers-in-law -started on their walk down the imperial tunnel, as Bernard called it. -They were well armed, supplied with provisions and ammunition and -resolved to pursue the adventure to the end.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes, that is to say, two hundred yards farther on, the -light of their pocket-lantern<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> showed them the steps of a staircase on -their right.</p> - -<p>"First turning," remarked Paul. "I take it there must be at least three -of them."</p> - -<p>"Where does the staircase lead to?"</p> - -<p>"To the château, obviously. And, if you want to know to what part, I -say, to the room with the portrait. There's no doubt that this is the -way by which Major Hermann entered the château on the evening of the day -when we attacked it. He had his accomplice Karl with him. Seeing our -names written on the wall, they stabbed the two men sleeping in the -room, Private Gériflour and his comrade."</p> - -<p>Bernard d'Andeville stopped short:</p> - -<p>"Look here, Paul, you've been bewildering me all day. You're acting with -the most extraordinary insight, going straight to the right place at -which to dig, describing all that happened as if you had been there, -knowing everything and foreseeing everything. I never suspected you of -that particular gift. Have you been studying Sherlock Holmes?"</p> - -<p>"Not even Arsène Lupin," said Paul, moving on again. "But I've been ill -and I have thought things over. Certain passages in Élisabeth's diary, -in which she spoke of her perplexing discoveries, gave me the first -hint. I began by asking myself why the Germans had taken such pains to -create a desert all around the château. And in this way, putting two and -two together, drawing inference after inference, examining the past and -the present, remembering my meeting with the German Emperor and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> -number of things which are all linked together, I ended by coming to the -conclusion that there was bound to be a secret communication between the -German and the French sides of the frontier, terminating at the exact -place from which it was possible to fire on Corvigny. It seemed to me -that, <i>a priori</i>, this place must be the terrace; and I became quite -sure of it when, just now, I saw on the terrace a dead tree, overgrown -with ivy, near which Élisabeth thought that she heard sounds coming from -underground. From that moment, I had nothing to do but get to work."</p> - -<p>"And your object is . . . ?" asked Bernard.</p> - -<p>"I have only one object: to deliver Élisabeth."</p> - -<p>"Your plan?"</p> - -<p>"I haven't one. Everything will depend on circumstances; but I am -convinced that I am on the right track."</p> - -<p>In fact all his surmises were proving to be correct. In ten minutes they -reached a space where another tunnel, also supplied with rails, branched -off to the right.</p> - -<p>"Second turning," said Paul. "Corvigny Road. It was down here that the -Germans marched to the town and took our troops by surprise before they -even had time to assemble; it was down here that the peasant-woman went -who accosted you in the evening. The outlet must be at some distance -from the town, perhaps in a farm belonging to the supposed -peasant-woman."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>"And the third turning?" said Bernard.</p> - -<p>"Here it is."</p> - -<p>"Another staircase?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; and I have no doubt that it leads to the chapel. We may safely -presume that, on the day when my father was murdered, the Emperor had -come to examine the works which he had ordered and which were being -executed under the supervision of the woman who accompanied him. The -chapel, which at that time was not inside the walls of the park, is -evidently one of the exits from the secret network of roads of which we -are following the main thoroughfare."</p> - -<p>Paul saw two more of these ramifications, which, judging from their -position and direction, must issue near the frontier, thus completing a -marvelous system of espionage and invasion.</p> - -<p>"It's wonderful," said Bernard. "It's admirable. If this isn't Kultur, I -should like to know what is. One can see that these people have the true -sense of war. The idea of digging for twenty years at a tunnel intended -for the possible bombardment of a tiny fortress would never have -occurred to a Frenchman. It needs a degree of civilization to which we -can't lay claim. Did you ever know such beggars!"</p> - -<p>His enthusiasm increased still further when he observed that the roof of -the tunnel was supplied with ventilating-shafts. But at last Paul -enjoined him to keep silent or to speak in a whisper:</p> - -<p>"You can imagine that, as they thought fit to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> preserve their lines of -communication, they must have done something to make them unserviceable -to the French. Èbrecourt is not far off. Perhaps there are -listening-posts, sentries posted at the right places. These people leave -nothing to chance."</p> - -<p>One thing that lent weight to Paul's remark was the presence, between -the rails, of those cast-iron slabs which covered the chambers of mines -laid in advance, so that they could be exploded by electricity. The -first was numbered five, the second four; and so on. Paul and Bernard -avoided them carefully; and this delayed their progress, for they no -longer dared switch on their lamps except at brief intervals.</p> - -<p>At about seven o'clock they heard or rather they seemed to hear confused -sounds of life and movement on the ground overhead. They felt deeply -moved. The soil above them was German soil; and the echo brought the -sounds of German life.</p> - -<p>"It's curious, you know, that the tunnel isn't better watched and that -we have been able to come so far without accident."</p> - -<p>"We'll give them a bad mark for that," said Bernard. "Kultur has made a -slip."</p> - -<p>Meanwhile a brisker draught blew along the walls. The outside air -entered in cool gusts; and they suddenly saw a distant light through the -darkness. It was stationary. Everything around it seemed still, as -though it were one of those fixed signals which are put up near a -railway.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>When they came closer, they perceived that it was the light of an -electric arc-lamp, that it was burning inside a shed standing at the -exit of the tunnel and its rays were cast upon great white cliffs and -upon little mounds of sand and pebbles.</p> - -<p>Paul whispered:</p> - -<p>"Those are quarries. By placing the entrance to their tunnel there, they -were able to continue their works in time of peace without attracting -attention. You may be sure that those so-called quarries were worked -very discreetly, in a compound to which the workmen were confined."</p> - -<p>"What Kultur!" Bernard repeated.</p> - -<p>He felt Paul's hand grip his arm. Something had passed in front of the -light, like a shadow rising and falling immediately after.</p> - -<p>With infinite caution they crawled up to the shed and raised themselves -until their eyes were on a level with the windows. Inside were half a -dozen soldiers, all lying down, or rather sprawling one across the -other, among empty bottles, dirty plates, greasy paper wrappers and -remnants of broken victuals. They were the men told off to guard the -tunnel; and they were dead-drunk.</p> - -<p>"More Kultur," said Bernard.</p> - -<p>"We're in luck," said Paul, "and I now understand why the watch is so -ill-kept: this is Sunday."</p> - -<p>There was a telegraph-apparatus on a table and a telephone on the wall; -and Paul saw under a glass case a switch-board with five brass handles, -which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> evidently corresponded by electric wires with the five -mine-chambers in the tunnel.</p> - -<p>When they passed on, Bernard and Paul continued to follow the rails -along the bed of a narrow channel, hollowed out of the rock, which led -them to an open space bright with many lights. A whole village lay -before them, consisting of barracks inhabited by soldiers whom they saw -moving to and fro. They went outside it. They then noticed the sound of -a motor-car and the blinding rays of two head-lights; and, after -climbing a fence and passing through a shrubbery, they saw a large villa -lit up from top to bottom.</p> - -<p>The car stopped in front of the doorstep, where some footmen were -standing, as well as a guard of soldiers. Two officers and a lady -wrapped in furs alighted. When the car turned, the lights revealed a -large garden, contained within very high walls.</p> - -<p>"It is just as I thought," said Paul. "This forms the counterpart of the -Château d'Ornequin. At either end there are strong walls which allow -work to be done unobserved by prying eyes. The terminus is in the open -air here, instead of underground, as it is down there; but at least the -quarries, the work-yards, the barracks, the garrison, the villa -belonging to the staff, the garden, the stables, all this military -organization is surrounded by walls and no doubt guarded on the outside -by sentries. That explains why one is able to move about so freely -inside."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>At that moment, a second motor-car set down three officers and then -joined the other in the coach-house.</p> - -<p>"There's a dinner-party on," said Bernard.</p> - -<p>They resolved to approach as near as they could, under cover of the -thick clumps of shrubs planted along the carriage-drive which surrounded -the house.</p> - -<p>They waited for some time; and then, from the sound of voices and -laughter that came from the ground-floor, at the back, they concluded -that this must be the scene of the banquet and that the guests were -sitting down to dinner. There were bursts of song, shouts of applause. -Outside, nothing stirred. The garden was deserted.</p> - -<p>"The place seems quiet," said Paul. "I shall ask you to give me a leg up -and to keep hidden yourself."</p> - -<p>"You want to climb to the ledge of one of the windows? What about the -shutters?"</p> - -<p>"I don't expect they're very close. You can see the light shining -through the middle."</p> - -<p>"Well, but why are you doing it? There is no reason to bother about this -house more than any other."</p> - -<p>"Yes, there is. You yourself told me that one of the wounded prisoners -said Prince Conrad had taken up his quarters in a villa outside -Èbrecourt. Now this one, standing in the middle of a sort of entrenched -camp and at the entrance to the tunnel, seems to me marked out. . . ."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>"Not to mention this really princely dinner-party," said Bernard, -laughing. "You're right. Up you go."</p> - -<p>They crossed the walk. With Bernard's assistance, Paul was easily able -to grip the ledge above the basement floor and to hoist himself to the -stone balcony.</p> - -<p>"That's it," he said. "Go back to where we were and whistle in case of -danger."</p> - -<p>After bestriding the balustrade, he carefully loosened one of the -shutters by passing first his fingers and then his hand through the -intervening space; and he succeeded in unfastening the bolt. The -curtains, being crossed inside, enabled him to move about unseen; but -they were open at the top, leaving an inverted triangle through which he -could see by climbing on to the balustrade.</p> - -<p>He did so and then bent forward and looked.</p> - -<p>The sight that met his eyes was such and gave him so horrible a blow -that his legs began to shake beneath him. . . .</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV<br /> -<span class="smalltext">PRINCE CONRAD MAKES MERRY</span></h2> - - -<p>A table running parallel with the three windows of the room. An -incredible collection of bottles, decanters and glasses, hardly leaving -room for the dishes of cake and fruit. Ornamental side-dishes flanked by -bottles of champagne. A basket of flowers surrounded by liqueur-bottles.</p> - -<p>Twenty persons were seated at table, including half-a-dozen women in -low-necked dresses. The others were officers, covered with gold lace and -orders.</p> - -<p>In the middle, facing the window, sat Prince Conrad, presiding over the -banquet, with a lady on his right and another on his left. And it was -the sight of these three, brought together in the most improbable -defiance of the logic of things, that caused Paul to undergo a torture -which was renewed from moment to moment.</p> - -<p>That one of the two women should be there, on the prince's right, -sitting stiff-backed in her plum-colored stuff gown, with a black-lace -scarf half-hiding her short hair, was easy to understand. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> the other -woman, to whom Prince Conrad kept turning with a clumsy affectation of -gallantry, that woman whom Paul contemplated with horror-struck eyes and -whom he would have liked to strangle where she sat, what was she doing -there? What was Élisabeth doing in the midst of those tipsy officers and -dubious German women, beside Prince Conrad and beside the monstrous -creature who was pursuing her with her hatred?</p> - -<p>The Comtesse Hermine d'Andeville! Élisabeth d'Andeville! The mother and -the daughter! There was no plausible argument that would allow Paul to -apply any other description to the prince's two companions. And -something happened to give this description its full value of hideous -reality when, a moment later, Prince Conrad rose to his feet, with a -glass of champagne in his hand, and shouted:</p> - -<p>"<i>Hoch! Hoch! Hoch!</i> Here's to the health of our very wideawake friend!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Hoch! Hoch! Hoch!</i>" shouted the band of guests. "The Comtesse -Hermine!"</p> - -<p>She took up a glass, emptied it at a draught and began to make a speech -which Paul could not hear, while the others did their best to listen -with a fervent attention which was all the more meritorious in view of -their copious libations.</p> - -<p>And Élisabeth also sat and listened. She was wearing a gray gown which -Paul knew well, quite a simple frock, cut very high in the neck and with -sleeves that came down to her wrists. But from her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> throat a wonderful -necklace, consisting of four rows of large pearls, hung over her bodice; -and this necklace Paul did not know.</p> - -<p>"The wretch! The wretch!" he spluttered.</p> - -<p>She was smiling. Yes, he saw on the younger woman's lips a smile -provoked by something that Prince Conrad said as he bent over her. And -the prince gave such a boisterous laugh that the Comtesse Hermine, who -was still speaking, called him to order by tapping him on the hand with -her fan.</p> - -<p>The whole scene was a horrible one for Paul; and he suffered such -scorching anguish that his one idea was to get away, to see no more, to -abandon the struggle and to drive this hateful wife of his out of his -life and out of his memory.</p> - -<p>"She is a true daughter of the Comtesse Hermine," he thought, in -despair.</p> - -<p>He was on the point of going, when a little incident held him back. -Élisabeth raised to her eyes a handkerchief which she held crumpled in -the hollow of her hand and furtively wiped away a tear that was ready to -flow. At the same time he perceived that she was terribly pale, not with -a factitious pallor, which until then he had attributed to the crudeness -of the light, but with a real and deathly pallor. It was as though all -the blood had fled from her poor face. And, after all, what a melancholy -smile was that which had twisted her lips in response to the prince's -jest!</p> - -<p>"But then what is she doing here?" Paul asked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> himself. "Am I not -entitled to regard her as guilty and to suppose that her tears are due -to remorse? She has become cowardly through fear, threats and the wish -to live; and now she is crying."</p> - -<p>He continued to insult her in his thoughts; but gradually he felt a -great pity steal over him for the woman who had not had the strength to -endure her intolerable trials.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the Comtesse Hermine made an end of her speech. She drank -again, swallowing bumper after bumper and each time flinging her glass -behind her. The officers and their women followed her example. -Enthusiastic <i>Hochs</i> were raised from every side; and, in a drunken fit -of patriotism, the prince got on his feet and struck up "<i>Deutschland -über Alles</i>," the others joining in the chorus with a sort of frenzy.</p> - -<p>Élisabeth had put her elbows on the table and her hands before her face, -as though trying to isolate herself from her surroundings. But the -prince, still standing and bawling, took her two arms and brutally -forced them apart:</p> - -<p>"None of your monkey-tricks, pretty one!"</p> - -<p>She gave a movement of repulsion which threw him beside himself.</p> - -<p>"What's all this? Sulking? And blubbering? A nice thing! And, bless my -soul, what do I see? Madame's glass is full!"</p> - -<p>He took the glass and, with a shaky hand, put it to Élisabeth's lips:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>"Drink my health, child! The health of your lord and master! What's -this? You refuse? . . . Ah, I see, you don't like champagne! Quite -right! Down with champagne! What you want is hock, good Rhine wine, eh, -baby? You're thinking of one of your country's songs: 'We held it once, -your German Rhine! It babbled in our brimming glass!' Rhine wine, -there!"</p> - -<p>With one movement, the officers rose and started shouting:</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Die Wacht am Rhein</i></p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0q">"They shall not have our German Rhine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tho' like a flock of hungry crows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They shriek their lust . . ."<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>"No, they shan't have it," rejoined the prince, angrily, "but you shall -drink it, little one!"</p> - -<p>Another glass had been filled. Once more he tried to force Élisabeth to -lift it to her lips; and, when she pushed it away, he began to whisper -in her ear, while the wine dribbled over her dress.</p> - -<p>Everybody was silent, waiting to see what would happen. Élisabeth turned -paler than ever, but did not move. The prince, leaning over her, showed -the face of a brute who alternately threatens, pleads, commands and -insults. It was a heart-rending sight. Paul would have given his life to -see Élisabeth yield to a fit of disgust and stab her insulter. Instead -of that, she threw back her head, closed her eyes and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> half-swooning, -accepted the chalice and swallowed a few mouthfuls.</p> - -<p>The prince gave a shout of triumph as he waved the glass on high; then -he put his lips, avidly, to the place at which she had drunk and emptied -it at a draught.</p> - -<p>"<i>Hoch! Hoch!</i>" he roared. "Up, comrades! Every one on his chair, with -one foot on the table! Up, conquerors of the world! Sing the strength of -Germany! Sing German gallantry!</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0qa">"'The Rhine, the free, the German Rhine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They shall not have while gallant boys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still tell of love to slender maids. . . .'<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>"Élisabeth, I have drunk Rhine wine from your glass. Élisabeth, I know -what you are thinking. Her thoughts are of love, my comrades! I am the -master! Oh, Parisienne! . . . You dear little Parisienne! . . . It's -Paris we want! . . . Oh, Paris, Paris! . . ."</p> - -<p>His foot slipped. The glass fell from his hand and smashed against the -neck of a bottle. He dropped on his knees on the table, amid a crash of -broken plates and glasses, seized a flask of liqueur and rolled to the -floor, stammering:</p> - -<p>"We want Paris. . . . Paris and Calais. . . . Papa said so. . . . The -Arc de Triomphe! . . . The Café Anglais! . . . A <i>cabinet particulier</i> -at the Café Anglais! . . ."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>The uproar suddenly stopped. The Comtesse Hermine's imperious voice was -raised in command:</p> - -<p>"Go away, all of you! Go home! And be quick about it, gentlemen, if you -please."</p> - -<p>The officers and the ladies soon made themselves scarce. Outside, on the -other side of the house, there was a great deal of whistling. The cars -at once drove up from the garage. A general departure took place.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the Countess had beckoned to the servants and, pointing to -Prince Conrad, said:</p> - -<p>"Carry him to his room."</p> - -<p>The prince was removed at once. Then the Comtesse Hermine went up to -Élisabeth.</p> - -<p>Not five minutes had elapsed since the prince rolled under the table; -and, after the din of the banquet, a great silence reigned in the -disorderly room where the two women were now by themselves. Élisabeth -had once more hidden her head in her hands and was weeping violently -with sobs that shook her shoulders. The Comtesse Hermine sat down beside -her and gently touched her on the arm.</p> - -<p>The two women looked at each other without a word. It was a strange -glance that they exchanged, a glance laden with mutual hatred. Paul did -not take his eyes from them. As he watched the two of them, he could not -doubt that they had met before and that the words which they were about -to speak were but the sequel and conclusion of some earlier<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> discussion. -But what discussion? And what did Élisabeth know of the Comtesse -Hermine? Did she accept that woman, for whom she felt such loathing, as -her mother?</p> - -<p>Never were two human beings distinguished by a greater difference in -physical appearance and above all by expressions of face denoting more -opposite natures. And yet how powerful was the series of proofs that -linked them together! These were no longer proofs, but rather the -factors of so actual a reality that Paul did not even dream of -discussing them. Besides, M. d'Andeville's confusion when confronted -with the countess' photograph, a photograph taken in Berlin some years -after her pretended death, showed that M. d'Andeville was an accessory -to that pretended death and perhaps an accessory to many other things.</p> - -<p>And Paul came back to the question provoked by the agonizing encounter -between the mother and daughter: what did Élisabeth know of it all? What -insight had she been able to obtain into the whole monstrous -conglomeration of shame, infamy, treachery and crime? Was she accusing -her mother? And, feeling herself crushed under the weight of the crimes, -did she hold her responsible for her own lack of courage?</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course she does," thought Paul. "But why so much hatred? There -is a hatred between them which only death can quench. And the longing to -kill is perhaps even more violent in the eyes of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> Élisabeth than in -those of the woman who has come to kill her."</p> - -<p>Paul felt this impression so keenly that he really expected one or the -other to take some immediate action; and he began to cast about for a -means of saving Élisabeth. But an utterly unforeseen thing happened. The -Comtesse Hermine took from her pocket one of those large road-maps which -motorists use, placed her finger at one spot, followed the red line of a -road to another spot and, stopping, spoke a few words that seemed to -drive Élisabeth mad with delight.</p> - -<p>She seized the countess by the arm and began to talk to her feverishly, -in words interrupted by alternate laughing and sobbing, while the -countess nodded her head and seemed to be saying:</p> - -<p>"That's all right. . . . We are agreed. . . . Everything shall be as you -wish. . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul thought that Élisabeth was actually going to kiss her enemy's hand, -for she seemed overcome with joy and gratitude; and he was anxiously -wondering into what new trap the poor thing had fallen, when the -countess rose, walked to a door and opened it.</p> - -<p>She beckoned to some one outside and then came back again.</p> - -<p>A man entered, dressed in uniform. And Paul now understood. The man whom -the Comtesse Hermine was admitting was Karl the spy, her confederate, -the agent of her designs, the man whom she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> was entrusting with the task -of killing Élisabeth, whose last hour had struck.</p> - -<p>Karl bowed. The Comtesse Hermine introduced the man to Élisabeth and -then, pointing to the road and the two places on the map, explained what -was expected of him. He took out his watch and made a gesture as though -to say:</p> - -<p>"It shall be done at such-and-such a time."</p> - -<p>Thereupon, at the countess' suggestion, Élisabeth left the room.</p> - -<p>Although Paul had not caught a single word of what was said, this brief -scene was, for him, pregnant with the plainest and most terrifying -significance. The countess, using her absolute power and taking -advantage of the fact that Prince Conrad was asleep, was proposing a -plan of escape to Élisabeth, doubtless a flight by motor-car, towards a -spot in the neighboring district thought out in advance. Élisabeth was -accepting this unhoped-for deliverance. And the flight would take place -under the management and protection of Karl!</p> - -<p>The trap was so well-laid and Élisabeth, driven mad with suffering, was -rushing into it so confidently that the two accomplices, on being left -alone, looked at each other and laughed. The trick was really too easy; -and there was no merit in succeeding under such conditions.</p> - -<p>There next took place between them, even before any explanation was -entered into, a short panto<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>mime: two movements, no more; but they were -marked with diabolical cynicism. With his eyes fixed on the countess, -Karl the spy opened his jacket and drew a dagger half-way out of its -sheath. The countess made a sign of disapproval and handed the scoundrel -a little bottle which he took with a shrug of the shoulders, apparently -saying:</p> - -<p>"As you please! It's all the same to me!"</p> - -<p>Then, sitting side by side, they embarked on a lively conversation, the -countess giving her instructions, while Karl expressed his approval or -his dissent.</p> - -<p>Paul had a feeling that, if he did not master his dismay, if he did not -stop the disordered beating of his heart, Élisabeth was lost. To save -her, he must keep his brain absolutely clear and take immediate -resolutions, as circumstances demanded, without giving himself time to -reflect or hesitate. And these resolutions he could only take at a -venture and perhaps erroneously, because he did not really know the -enemy's plans. Nevertheless he cocked his revolver.</p> - -<p>He was at that moment presuming that, when Élisabeth was ready to start, -she would return to the room and go away with the spy; but presently the -countess struck a bell on the table and spoke a few words to the servant -who appeared. The man went out. Paul heard two whistles, followed by the -hum of an approaching motor.</p> - -<p>Karl looked through the open door and down the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> passage. Then he turned -to the countess, as though to say:</p> - -<p>"Here she is. . . . She's coming down the stairs. . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul now understood that Élisabeth would go straight to the car and that -Karl would join her there. If so, it was a case for immediate action.</p> - -<p>For a second he remained undecided. Should he take advantage of the fact -that Karl was still there, burst into the room and shoot both him and -the countess dead? It would mean saving Élisabeth, because it was only -those two miscreants who had designs upon her life. But he dreaded the -failure of so daring an attempt and, jumping from the balcony, he called -Bernard.</p> - -<p>"Élisabeth is going off in a motor-car. Karl is with her and has been -told to poison her. Get out your revolver and come with me."</p> - -<p>"What do you intend to do?"</p> - -<p>"We shall see."</p> - -<p>They went round the villa, slipping through the bushes that bordered the -drive. The whole place, moreover, was deserted.</p> - -<p>"Listen," said Bernard, "there's a car going off."</p> - -<p>Paul, at first greatly alarmed, protested:</p> - -<p>"No, no, it's only the noise of the engine."</p> - -<p>In fact, when they came within sight of the front of the house, they saw -at the foot of the steps a closed car surrounded by a group of some -dozen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> soldiers. Its head-lamps, while lighting up one part of the -garden, left the spot where Paul and Bernard stood in darkness.</p> - -<p>A woman came down the steps and disappeared inside the car.</p> - -<p>"Élisabeth," said Paul. "And here comes Karl. . . ."</p> - -<p>The spy stopped on the bottom step and gave his orders to the soldier -who acted as chauffeur. Paul caught a syllable here and there.</p> - -<p>Their departure was imminent. Another moment and, if Paul raised no -obstacle, the car would carry off the assassin and his victim. It was a -horrible minute, for Paul Delroze felt all the danger attending an -interference which would not even possess the merit of being effective, -since Karl's death would not prevent the Comtesse Hermine from pursuing -her ends.</p> - -<p>Bernard whispered:</p> - -<p>"Surely you don't mean to carry away Élisabeth? There's a whole picket -of sentries there."</p> - -<p>"I mean to do only one thing, to do for Karl."</p> - -<p>"And then?"</p> - -<p>"Then they'll take us prisoners. We shall be questioned, cross-examined; -there will be a scandal. Prince Conrad will take the matter up."</p> - -<p>"And we shall be shot. I confess that your plan . . ."</p> - -<p>"Can you propose a better one?"</p> - -<p>He broke off. Karl the spy had flown into a rage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> and was storming at -his chauffeur; and Paul heard him shout:</p> - -<p>"You damned ass! You're always doing it! No petrol. . . . Where do you -think we shall find petrol in the middle of the night? There's some in -the garage, is there? Then run and fetch it, you fat-head! . . . And -where's my fur-coat? You've forgotten it? Go and get it at once. I shall -drive the car myself. I've no use for fools like you! . . ."</p> - -<p>The soldier started running. And Paul at once observed that he himself -would be able to reach the garage, of which he saw the lights, without -having to leave the protecting darkness.</p> - -<p>"Come," he said to Bernard. "I have an idea: you'll see what it is."</p> - -<p>With the sound of their footsteps deadened by a grassy lawn, they made -for that part of the out-houses containing the stables and motor-sheds, -which they were able to enter unseen by those without. The soldier was -in a back-room, the door of which was open. From their hiding-place they -saw him take from a peg a great goat-skin coat, which he threw over his -shoulder, and lay hold of four tins of petrol. Thus laden, he left the -back-room and passed in front of Paul and Bernard.</p> - -<p>The trick was soon done. Before he had time to cry out, he was knocked -down, rendered motionless and gagged.</p> - -<p>"That's that," said Paul. "Now give me his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> great-coat and his cap. I -would rather have avoided this disguise; but, if you want to be sure of -a thing, you mustn't stick at the means."</p> - -<p>"Then you're going to risk it?" asked Bernard. "Suppose Karl doesn't -recognize his chauffeur?"</p> - -<p>"He won't even think of looking at him."</p> - -<p>"But if he speaks to you?"</p> - -<p>"I shan't answer. Besides, once we are outside the grounds, I shall have -nothing to fear from him."</p> - -<p>"And what am I to do?"</p> - -<p>"You? Bind your prisoner carefully and lock him up in some safe place. -Then go back to the shrubbery beyond the window with the balcony. I hope -to join you there with Élisabeth some time during the middle of the -night; and we shall simply have to go back by the tunnel. If by accident -you don't see me return . . ."</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"Well, then go back alone before it gets light."</p> - -<p>"But . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul was already moving away. He was in the mood in which a man refuses -to consider the actions which he has decided to perform. Moreover, the -event seemed to prove that he was right. Karl received him with abusive -language, but without paying the least attention to this supernumerary -for whom he could not show enough contempt. The spy put on his fur-coat, -sat down at the wheel and began to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> handle the levers while Paul took -his seat beside him.</p> - -<p>The car was starting, when a voice from the doorstep called, in a tone -of command:</p> - -<p>"Karl! Stop!"</p> - -<p>Paul felt a moment's anxiety. It was the Comtesse Hermine. She went up -to the spy and, lowering her voice, said, in French:</p> - -<p>"I want you, Karl, to be sure . . . But your driver doesn't know French, -does he?"</p> - -<p>"He hardly knows German, <i>Excellenz</i>. He's an idiot. You can speak -freely."</p> - -<p>"What I was going to say is, don't use more than ten drops out of the -bottle, else. . . ."</p> - -<p>"Very well, <i>Excellenz</i>. Anything more?"</p> - -<p>"Write to me in a week's time if everything has gone off well. Write to -our Paris address and not before: it would be useless."</p> - -<p>"Then you're going back to France, <i>Excellenz</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my plan is ripe."</p> - -<p>"The same plan?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. The weather is in our favor. It has been raining for days and the -staff have told me that they mean to act on their side. So I shall be -there to-morrow evening; and it will only need a touch of the thumb -. . ."</p> - -<p>"That's it, a touch of the thumb, no more. I've worked at it myself and -everything's ready. But you spoke to me of another plan, to complete the -first; and I confess that that on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>e . . ."</p> - -<p>"It's got to be done. Luck is turning against us. If I succeed, it will -be the end of the run on the black."</p> - -<p>"And have you the Kaiser's consent?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't ask for it. It's one of those undertakings one doesn't talk -about."</p> - -<p>"But this one is terribly dangerous, <i>Excellenz</i>."</p> - -<p>"Can't be helped."</p> - -<p>"Sha'n't you want me over there, <i>Excellenz</i>?"</p> - -<p>"No. Get rid of the chit for us. That will be enough for the present. -Good-bye."</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, <i>Excellenz</i>."</p> - -<p>The spy released the brakes. The car started.</p> - -<p>The drive which ran round the central lawn led to a lodge which stood -beside the garden-gate and which served as a guard-room. The high walls -surrounding the grounds rose on either side of it.</p> - -<p>An officer came out of the lodge. Karl gave the pass-word, -"Hohenstaufen." The gate was opened and the motor dashed down a -high-road which first passed through the little town of Èbrecourt and -next wound among low hills.</p> - -<p>So Paul Delroze, at an hour before midnight, was alone in the open -country, with Élisabeth and Karl the spy. If he succeeded in mastering -the spy, as he did not doubt that he could, Élisabeth would be free. -There would then remain nothing to do but to return to Prince Conrad's -villa, with the aid of the pass-word, and pick up Bernard there. Once -the adventure was completed in accordance with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> Paul's designs, the -tunnel would bring back all the three of them to the Château d'Ornequin.</p> - -<p>Paul therefore gave way to the delight that was stealing over him. -Élisabeth was with him, under his protection: Élisabeth, whose courage, -no doubt, had yielded under the weight of her trials, but who had a -claim upon his indulgence because her misfortunes were due to his fault. -He forgot, he wished to forget all the ugly phases in the tragedy, in -order to think only of the end that was near at hand, his wife's triumph -and deliverance.</p> - -<p>He watched the road attentively, so as not to miss his way when -returning, and planned out his attack, fixing it at the first stop which -they would have to make. He resolved that he would not kill the spy, but -that he would stun him with a blow of his fist and, after knocking him -down and binding him, throw him into some wood by the road-side.</p> - -<p>They came to a fair-sized market-town, then two villages and then a town -where they had to stop and show the car's papers. It was past eleven.</p> - -<p>Then once more they were driving along country lanes which ran through a -series of little woods whose trees lit up as they passed.</p> - -<p>At that moment, the light of the lamps began to fail. Karl slackened -speed. He growled:</p> - -<p>"You dolt, can't you even keep your lamps alight? Have you got any -carbide?"</p> - -<p>Paul did not reply. Karl went on cursing his luck. Suddenly, he put on -the brakes, with an oath:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>"You blasted idiot! One can't go on like this. . . . Here, stir your -stumps and light up."</p> - -<p>Paul sprang from his seat, while the car drew up by the road-side. The -time had come to act.</p> - -<p>He first attended to the lamps, keeping an eye upon the spy's movements -and taking care to stand outside the rays. Karl got down, opened the -door of the car, and started a conversation which Paul could not hear. -Then he came back to where Paul was:</p> - -<p>"Well, pudding-head, haven't you done yet?"</p> - -<p>Paul had his back turned to him, attending to his work and waiting for -the propitious moment when the spy, coming two steps nearer, would be -within his reach.</p> - -<p>A minute elapsed. He clenched his fists. He foresaw the exact movement -which he would have to make and was on the point of making it, when -suddenly he felt himself seized round the body from behind and brought -to the ground without being able to offer the least resistance.</p> - -<p>"Thunder and lightning!" cried the spy, holding him down with his knee. -"So that's why you wouldn't answer? . . . It struck me somehow that you -were behaving queerly. . . . And then I never gave it another thought. -. . . It was the lamp, just now, that threw a light on your side-face. -. . . But who is the fellow I've got hold of? Some dog of a Frenchman, -may be?"</p> - -<p>Paul had stiffened his muscles and believed for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> moment that he would -succeed in escaping from the other's grip. The enemy's strength was -yielding; Paul gradually seemed to master him; and he exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"Yes, a Frenchman, Paul Delroze, the one you used to try and kill, the -husband of Élisabeth, your victim. . . . Yes, it's I; and I know who you -are: you're Laschen, the sham Belgian; you're Karl the spy."</p> - -<p>He stopped. The spy, who had only weakened his effort to draw a dagger -from his belt, was now raising it against him:</p> - -<p>"Ah, Paul Delroze! . . . God's truth, this'll be a lucky trip! . . . -First the husband and then the wife. . . . Ah, so you came running into -my clutches! . . . Here, take this, my lad! . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul saw the gleam of a blade flashing above his face. He closed his -eyes, uttering Élisabeth's name.</p> - -<p>Another second; and three shots rang out in rapid succession. Some one -was firing from behind the group formed by the two adversaries.</p> - -<p>The spy swore a hideous oath. His grip became relaxed. The weapon in the -hand trembled and he fell flat on the ground, moaning:</p> - -<p>"Oh, the cursed woman! . . . That cursed woman! . . . I ought to have -strangled her in the car. . . . I knew this would happen. . . ."</p> - -<p>His voice failed him. He stammered:</p> - -<p>"I've got it this time. . . . Oh, that cursed woman! . . . And the pain -. . . !"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>Then he was silent. A few convulsions, a dying gasp and that was all.</p> - -<p>Paul had leapt to his feet. He ran to the woman who had saved his life -and who was still holding her revolver in her hand:</p> - -<p>"Élisabeth!" he cried, wild with delight.</p> - -<p>But he stopped, with his arms outstretched. In the dark, the woman's -figure did not seem to him to be Élisabeth's, but a taller and broader -figure. He blurted out, in a tone of infinite anguish:</p> - -<p>"Élisabeth . . . is it you? . . . Is it really you? . . ."</p> - -<p>And at the same time he intuitively knew the answer which he was about -to hear:</p> - -<p>"No," said the woman, "Mme. Delroze started a little before us, in -another motor. Karl and I were to join her."</p> - -<p>Paul remembered that car, of which he and Bernard had thought that he -heard the sound when going round the villa. As the two starts had taken -place with an interval of a few minutes at most between them, he cried:</p> - -<p>"Let us be quick then and lose no time. . . . By putting on speed, we -shall be sure to catch them. . . ."</p> - -<p>But the woman at once objected:</p> - -<p>"It's impossible, because the two cars have taken different roads."</p> - -<p>"What does that matter, if they lead to the same point. Where are they -taking Mme. Delroze?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>"To a castle belonging to the Comtesse Hermine."</p> - -<p>"And where is that castle?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know."</p> - -<p>"You don't know? But this is terrible! At least, you know its name.</p> - -<p>"No, I don't. Karl never told me."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /> -<span class="smalltext">THE IMPOSSIBLE STRUGGLE</span></h2> - - -<p>In the terrible state of distress into which those last words threw him, -Paul felt the need of some immediate action, even as he had done at the -sight of the banquet given by Prince Conrad. Certainly, all hope was -lost. His plan, which was to use the tunnel before the alarm was raised, -his plan was shattered. Granting that he succeeded in finding Élisabeth -and delivering her, a very unlikely contingency, at what moment would -this take place? And how was he afterwards to escape the enemy and -return to France?</p> - -<p>No, henceforward space and time were both against him. His defeat was -such that there was nothing for it but to resign himself and await the -final blow.</p> - -<p>And yet he did not flinch. He saw that any weakness would be -irreparable. The impulse that had carried him so far must be continued -unchecked and with more vigor than ever.</p> - -<p>He walked up to the spy. The woman was stooping over the body and -examining it by the light of one of the lamps which she had taken down.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>"He's dead, isn't he?" asked Paul.</p> - -<p>"Yes, he's dead. Two bullets hit him in the back." And she murmured, in -a broken voice, "It's horrible, what I've done. I've killed him myself! -But it's not a murder, sir, is it? And I had the right to, hadn't I? -. . . But it's horrible all the same . . . I've killed Karl!"</p> - -<p>Her face, which was young and still rather pretty, though common, was -distorted. Her eyes seemed glued to the corpse.</p> - -<p>"Who are you?" asked Paul.</p> - -<p>She replied, sobbing:</p> - -<p>"I was his sweetheart . . . and better than that . . . or rather worse. -He had taken an oath that he would marry me. . . . But Karl's oath! He -was such a liar, sir, such a coward! . . . Oh, the things I know of him! -. . . I myself, simply through holding my tongue, gradually became his -accomplice. He used to frighten me so! I no longer loved him, but I was -afraid of him and obeyed him . . . with such loathing, at the end! . . . -And he knew how I loathed him. He used often to say, 'You are quite -capable of killing me some day or other.' No, sir, I did think of it, -but I should never have had the courage. It was only just now, when I -saw that he was going to stab you . . . and above all when I heard your -name. . . ."</p> - -<p>"My name? What has that to do with it?"</p> - -<p>"You are Madame Delroze's husband."</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>"Well, I know her. Not for long, only since to-day. This morning, Karl, -on his way from Belgium, passed through the town where I was and took me -to Prince Conrad's. He told me I was to be lady's maid to a French lady -whom we were going to take to a castle. I knew what that meant. I should -once more have to be his accomplice, to inspire confidence. And then I -saw that French lady, I saw her crying; and she was so gentle and kind -that I felt sorry for her. I promised to rescue her . . . Only, I never -thought that it would be in this way, by killing Karl. . . ."</p> - -<p>She drew herself up suddenly and said, in a hard voice:</p> - -<p>"But it had to be, sir. It was bound to happen, for I knew too much -about him. It had to be he or I. . . . It was he . . . and I can't help -it and I'm not sorry. . . . He was the wickedest wretch on earth; and, -with people like him, one mustn't hesitate. No, I am not sorry."</p> - -<p>Paul asked:</p> - -<p>"He was devoted to the Comtesse Hermine, was he not?"</p> - -<p>She shuddered and lowered her voice to reply:</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't speak of her, please! She is more terrible still; and she is -still alive. Ah, if she should ever suspect!"</p> - -<p>"Who is the woman?"</p> - -<p>"How can I tell? She comes and goes, she is the mistress wherever she -may be. . . . People obey her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> as they do the Emperor. Everybody fears -her . . . as they do her brother."</p> - -<p>"Her brother?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Major Hermann."</p> - -<p>"What's that? Do you mean to say that Major Hermann is her brother?"</p> - -<p>"Why, of course! Besides, you have only to look at him. He is the very -image of the Comtesse Hermine!"</p> - -<p>"Have you ever seen them together?"</p> - -<p>"Upon my word, I can't remember. Why do you ask?"</p> - -<p>Time was too precious for Paul to insist. The woman's opinion of the -Comtesse Hermine did not matter much. He asked:</p> - -<p>"She is staying at the prince's?"</p> - -<p>"For the present, yes. The prince is on the first floor, at the back; -she is on the same floor, but in front."</p> - -<p>"If I let her know that Karl has had an accident and that he has sent -me, his chauffeur, to tell her, will she see me?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly."</p> - -<p>"Does she know Karl's chauffeur, whose place I took?"</p> - -<p>"No. He was a soldier whom Karl brought with him from Belgium."</p> - -<p>Paul thought for a moment and then said:</p> - -<p>"Lend me a hand."</p> - -<p>They pushed the body towards the ditch by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> road-side, rolled it in -and covered it with dead branches.</p> - -<p>"I shall go back to the villa," he said. "You walk on until you come to -the first cluster of houses. Wake the people and tell them the story of -how Karl was murdered by his chauffeur and how you ran away. The time -which it will take to inform the police, to question you and to -telephone to the villa is more than I need."</p> - -<p>She took alarm:</p> - -<p>"But the Comtesse Hermine?"</p> - -<p>"Have no fear there. Granting that I do not deprive her of her power of -doing mischief, how could she suspect you, when the -police-investigations will hold me alone to account for everything? -Besides, we have no choice."</p> - -<p>And, without more words, he started the engine, took his seat at the -wheel and, in spite of the woman's frightened entreaties, drove off.</p> - -<p>He drove off with the same eagerness and decision as though he were -fulfilling the conditions of some new plan of which he had fixed every -detail beforehand and as though he felt sure of its success.</p> - -<p>"I shall see the countess," he said to himself. "She will either be -anxious as to Karl's fate and want me to take her to him at once or she -will see me in one of the rooms in the villa. In either case I shall -find a method of compelling her to reveal the name of the castle in -which Élisabeth is a prisoner. I shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> even compel her to give me the -means of delivering her and helping her to escape."</p> - -<p>But how vague it all was! The obstacles in the way! The impossibilities! -How could he expect circumstances to be so complaisant as first to blind -the countess' eyes to the facts and next to deprive her of all -assistance? A woman of her stamp was not likely to let herself be taken -in by words or subdued by threats.</p> - -<p>No matter, Paul would not entertain the thought of failure. Success lay -at the end of his undertaking; and in order to achieve it more quickly -he increased the pace, rushing his car like a whirlwind along the roads -and hardly slackening speed as he passed through villages and towns.</p> - -<p>"Hohenstaufen!" he cried to the sentry posted outside the wall.</p> - -<p>The officer of the picket, after questioning him, sent him on to the -sergeant in command of the post at the front-door. The sergeant was the -only one who had free access to the villa; and he would inform the -countess.</p> - -<p>"Very well," said Paul. "I'll put up my car first."</p> - -<p>In the garage, he turned off his lights; and, as he went towards the -villa, he thought that it might be well, before going back to the -sergeant, to look up Bernard and learn if his brother-in-law had -succeeded in discovering anything.</p> - -<p>He found him behind the villa, in the clumps of shrubs facing the window -with the balcony.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>"You're by yourself?" said Bernard, anxiously.</p> - -<p>"Yes, the job failed. Élisabeth was in an earlier motor."</p> - -<p>"What an awful thing!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but it can be put right. And you . . . what about the chauffeur?"</p> - -<p>"He's safely hidden away. No one will see him . . . at least not before -the morning, when other chauffeurs come to the garage."</p> - -<p>"Very well. Anything else?"</p> - -<p>"There was a patrol in the grounds an hour ago. I managed to keep out of -sight."</p> - -<p>"And then?"</p> - -<p>"Then I made my way as far as the tunnel. The men were beginning to -stir. Besides, there was something that made them jolly well pull -themselves together!"</p> - -<p>"What was that?"</p> - -<p>"The sudden arrival of a certain person of our acquaintance, the woman I -met at Corvigny, who is so remarkably like Major Hermann."</p> - -<p>"Was she going the rounds?"</p> - -<p>"No, she was leaving."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know, she means to leave."</p> - -<p>"She has left."</p> - -<p>"Oh, nonsense! I can't believe that. There was no immediate hurry about -her departure for France."</p> - -<p>"I saw her go, though."</p> - -<p>"How? By what road?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>"The tunnel, of course! Do you imagine that the tunnel serves no further -purpose? That was the road she took, before my eyes, under the most -comfortable conditions, in an electric trolley driven by a brakesman. No -doubt, since the object of her journey was, as you say, to get to -France, they shunted her on to the Corvigny branch. That was two hours -ago. I heard the trolley come back."</p> - -<p>The disappearance of the Comtesse Hermine was a fresh blow to Paul. How -was he now to find, how to deliver Élisabeth? What clue could he trust -in this darkness, in which each of his efforts was ending in disaster?</p> - -<p>He pulled himself together, made an act of will and resolved to -persevere in the adventure until he attained his object. He asked -Bernard if he had seen nothing more.</p> - -<p>"No, nothing."</p> - -<p>"Nobody going or coming in the garden?"</p> - -<p>"No. The servants have gone to bed. The lights are out."</p> - -<p>"All the lights?"</p> - -<p>"All except one, there, over our heads."</p> - -<p>The light was on the first floor, at a window situated above the window -through which Paul had watched Prince Conrad's supper-party. He asked:</p> - -<p>"Was that light put on while I was up on the balcony?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, towards the end."</p> - -<p>"From what I was told," Paul muttered, "that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> must be Prince Conrad's -room. He's drunk and had to be carried upstairs."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I saw some shadows at that time; and nothing has moved since."</p> - -<p>"He's evidently sleeping off his champagne. Oh, if one could only see, -if one could get into the room!"</p> - -<p>"That's easily done," said Bernard.</p> - -<p>"How?"</p> - -<p>"Through the next room, which must be the dressing-room. They've left -the window open, no doubt to give the prince a little air."</p> - -<p>"But I should want a ladder . . ."</p> - -<p>"There's one hanging on the wall of the coach-house. Shall I get it for -you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, do," said Paul eagerly. "Be quick."</p> - -<p>A whole new scheme was taking shape in his mind, similar in some -respects to his first plan of campaign and likely, he thought, to lead -to a successful issue.</p> - -<p>He made certain that the approaches to the villa on either side were -deserted and that none of the soldiers on guard had moved away from the -front-door. Then, when Bernard was back, he placed the ladder in -position and leant it against the wall. They went up.</p> - -<p>The open window belonged, as they expected, to the dressing-room and the -light from the bedroom showed through the open door. Not a sound came -from that other room except a loud snoring. Paul put his head through -the doorway.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>Prince Conrad was lying fast asleep across his bed, like a loose-jointed -doll, clad in his uniform, the front of which was covered with stains. -He was sleeping so soundly that Paul was able to examine the room at his -ease. There was a sort of little lobby between it and the passage, with -a door at either end. He locked and bolted both doors, so that they were -now alone with Prince Conrad, while it was impossible for them to be -heard from the outside.</p> - -<p>"Come on," said Paul, when they had apportioned the work to be done.</p> - -<p>And he placed a twisted towel over the prince's face and tried to insert -the ends into his mouth while Bernard bound his wrists and ankles with -some more towels. All this was done in silence. The prince offered no -resistance and uttered not a cry. He had opened his eyes and lay staring -at his aggressors with the air of a man who does not understand what is -happening to him, but is seized with increasing dread as he becomes -aware of his danger.</p> - -<p>"Not much pluck about William's son and heir," chuckled Bernard. "Lord, -what a funk he's in! Hi, young-fellow-my-lad, pull yourself together! -Where's your smelling-bottle?"</p> - -<p>Paul had at last succeeded in cramming half the towel into his mouth. He -lifted him up and said:</p> - -<p>"Now let's be off."</p> - -<p>"What do you propose to do?"</p> - -<p>"Take him away."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>"Where to?"</p> - -<p>"To France."</p> - -<p>"To France?"</p> - -<p>"Well, of course. We've got him; he'll have to help us."</p> - -<p>"They won't let him through."</p> - -<p>"And the tunnel?"</p> - -<p>"Out of the question. They're keeping too close a watch now."</p> - -<p>"We shall see."</p> - -<p>He took his revolver and pointed it at Prince Conrad:</p> - -<p>"Listen to me," he said. "Your head is too muddled, I dare say, to take -in any questions. But a revolver is easy to understand, isn't it? It -talks a very plain language, even to a man who is drunk and shaking all -over with fright. Well, if you don't come with me quietly, if you -attempt to struggle or to make a noise, if my friend and I are in danger -for a single moment, you're done for. You can feel the barrel of my -revolver on your temple: Well, it's there to blow out your brains. Do -you agree to my conditions?"</p> - -<p>The prince nodded his head.</p> - -<p>"Good," said Paul. "Bernard, undo his legs, but fasten his arms along -his body. . . . That's it. . . . And now let's be off."</p> - -<p>The descent of the ladder was easily accomplished and they walked -through the shrubberies to the fence which separated the garden from the -yard contain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>ing the barracks. Here they handed the prince across to -each other, like a parcel, and then, taking the same road as when they -came, they reached the quarries.</p> - -<p>The night was bright enough to allow them to see their way; and, -moreover, they had in front of them a diffused glow which seemed to rise -from the guard-house at the entrance to the tunnel. And indeed all the -lights there were burning; and the men were standing outside the shed, -drinking coffee.</p> - -<p>A soldier was pacing up and down in front of the tunnel, with his rifle -on his shoulder.</p> - -<p>"We are two," whispered Bernard. "There are six of them; and, at the -first shot fired, they will be joined by some hundreds of Boches who are -quartered five minutes away. It's a bit of an unequal struggle, what do -you say?"</p> - -<p>What increased the difficulty to the point of making it insuperable was -that they were not really two but three and that their prisoner hampered -them most terribly. With him it was impossible to hurry, impossible to -run away. They would have to think of some stratagem to help them.</p> - -<p>Slowly, cautiously, stealing along in such a way that not a stone rolled -from under their footsteps or the prince's, they described a circle -around the lighted space which brought them, after an hour, close to the -tunnel, under the rocky slopes against which its first buttresses were -built.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>"Stay there," said Paul to Bernard, speaking very low, but just loud -enough for the prince to hear. "Stay where you are and remember my -instructions. First of all, take charge of the prince, with your -revolver in your right hand and with your left hand on his collar. If he -struggles, break his head. That will be a bad business for us, but just -as bad for him. I shall go back to a certain distance from the shed and -draw off the five men on guard. Then the man doing sentry down there -will either join the rest, in which case you go on with the prince, or -else he will obey orders and remain at his post, in which case you fire -at him and wound him . . . and go on with the prince."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I shall go on, but the Boches will come after me and catch us up."</p> - -<p>"No, they won't."</p> - -<p>"If you say so. . . ."</p> - -<p>"Very well, that's understood. And you, sir," said Paul to the prince, -"do you understand? Absolute submission; if not, the least carelessness, -a mere mistake may cost you your life."</p> - -<p>Bernard whispered in his brother-in-law's ear:</p> - -<p>"I've picked up a rope; I shall fasten it round his neck; and, if he -jibs, he'll feel a sharp tug to recall him to the true state of things. -Only, Paul, I warn you that, if he takes it into his head to struggle, I -am incapable of killing him just like that, in cold blood."</p> - -<p>"Don't worry. He's too much afraid to struggle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> He'll go with you like -a lamb to the other end of the tunnel. When you get there, lock him up -in some corner of the château, but don't tell any one who he is."</p> - -<p>"And you, Paul?"</p> - -<p>"Never mind about me."</p> - -<p>"Still . . ."</p> - -<p>"We both stand the same risk. We're going to play a terribly dangerous -game and there's every chance of our losing it. But, if we win, it means -Élisabeth's safety. So we must go for it boldly. Good-bye, Bernard, for -the present. In ten minutes everything will be settled one way or the -other."</p> - -<p>They embraced and Paul walked away.</p> - -<p>As he had said, this one last effort could succeed only through -promptness and audacity; and it had to be made in the spirit in which a -man makes a desperate move. Ten minutes more would see the end of the -adventure. Ten minutes and he would be either victorious or a dead man.</p> - -<p>Every action which he performed from that moment was as orderly and -methodical as if he had had time to think it out carefully and to ensure -its inevitable success, whereas in reality he was forming a series of -separate decisions as he went along and as the tragic circumstances -seemed to call for them.</p> - -<p>Taking a roundabout way and keeping to the slopes of the mounds formed -by the sand thrown up in the works, he reached the hollow -communication-road between the quarries and the garrison-camp.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> On the -last of these rounds, his foot struck a block of stone which gave way -beneath him. On stooping and groping with his hands, he perceived that -this block held quite a heap of sand and pebbles in position behind it.</p> - -<p>"That's what I want," he said, without a moment's reflection.</p> - -<p>And, giving the stone a mighty kick, he sent the heap shooting into the -road with a roar like an avalanche.</p> - -<p>Paul jumped down among the stones, lay flat on his chest and began to -scream for help, as though he had met with an accident.</p> - -<p>From where he lay, it was impossible, owing to the winding of the road, -to hear him in the barracks; but the least cry was bound to carry as far -as the shed at the mouth of the tunnel, which was only a hundred yards -away at most. The soldiers on guard came running along at once.</p> - -<p>He counted only five of them. In an almost unintelligible voice, he gave -incoherent, gasping replies to the corporal's questions and conveyed the -impression that he had been sent by Prince Conrad to bring back the -Comtesse Hermine.</p> - -<p>Paul was quite aware that his stratagem had no chance of succeeding -beyond a very brief space of time; but every minute gained was of -inestimable value, because Bernard would make use of it on his side to -take action against the sixth man, the sentry outside the tunnel, and to -make his escape with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> Prince Conrad. Perhaps that man would come as -well. Or else perhaps Bernard would get rid of him without using his -revolver and therefore without attracting attention.</p> - -<p>And Paul, gradually raising his voice, was spluttering out vague -explanations, which only irritated without enlightening the corporal, -when a shot rang out, followed by two others.</p> - -<p>For the moment the corporal hesitated, not knowing for certain where the -sound came from. The men stood away from Paul and listened. Thereupon he -passed through them and walked straight on, without their realizing, in -the darkness, that it was he who was moving away. Then, at the first -turn, he started running and reached the shed in a few strides.</p> - -<p>Twenty yards in front of him, at the mouth of the tunnel, he saw Bernard -struggling with Prince Conrad, who was trying to escape. Near them, the -sentry was dragging himself along the ground and moaning.</p> - -<p>Paul saw clearly what he had to do. To lend Bernard a hand and with him -attempt to run the risk of flight would have been madness, because their -enemies would inevitably have caught them up and in any case Prince -Conrad would have been set free. No, the essential thing was to stop the -rush of the five other men, whose shadows were already appearing at the -bend in the road, and thus to enable Bernard to get away with the -prince.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>Half-hidden behind the shed, he aimed his revolver at them and cried:</p> - -<p>"Halt!"</p> - -<p>The corporal did not obey and ran on into the belt of light. Paul fired. -The German fell, but only wounded, for he began to command in a savage -tone:</p> - -<p>"Forward! Go for him! Forward, can't you, you funks!"</p> - -<p>The men did not stir a step. Paul seized a rifle from the stack which -they had made of theirs near the shed and, while taking aim at them, was -able to give a glance backwards and to see that Bernard had at last -mastered Prince Conrad and was leading him well into the tunnel.</p> - -<p>"It's only a question of holding out for five minutes," thought Paul, -"so that Bernard may go as far as possible."</p> - -<p>And he was so calm at this moment that he could have counted those -minutes by the steady beating of his pulse.</p> - -<p>"Forward! Rush at him! Forward!" the corporal kept clamoring, having -doubtless seen the figures of the two fugitives, though without -recognizing Prince Conrad.</p> - -<p>Rising to his knees, he fired a revolver-shot at Paul, who replied by -breaking his arm with a bullet. And yet the corporal went on shouting at -the top of his voice:</p> - -<p>"Forward! There are two of them making off through the tunnel! Forward! -Here comes help!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>It was half-a-dozen soldiers from the barracks, who had run up at the -sound of the shooting. Paul had now made his way into the shed. He broke -a window-pane and fired three shots. The soldiers made for shelter; but -others arrived, took their orders from the corporal and dispersed; and -Paul saw them scrambling up the adjoining slopes in order to head him -off. He fired his rifle a few more times; but what was the good? All -hope of resistance had long since disappeared.</p> - -<p>He persevered, however, killing his adversaries at intervals, firing -incessantly and thus gaining all the time possible. But he saw that the -enemy was maneuvering with the object of first circumventing him and -then making for the tunnel and chasing the fugitives.</p> - -<p>Paul set his teeth. He was really aware of each second that passed, of -each of those inappreciable seconds which increased Bernard's distance.</p> - -<p>Three men disappeared down the yawning mouth of the tunnel; then a -fourth; then a fifth. Moreover, the bullets were now beginning to rain -upon the shed.</p> - -<p>Paul made a calculation:</p> - -<p>"Bernard must be six or seven hundred yards away. The three men pursuing -him have gone fifty yards . . . seventy-five yards now. That's all -right."</p> - -<p>A serried mass of Germans were coming towards the shed. It was evidently -not believed that Paul<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> was alone, so quickly did he fire. This time -there was nothing for it but to surrender.</p> - -<p>"It's time," he thought. "Bernard is outside the danger-zone."</p> - -<p>He suddenly rushed at the board containing the handles which -corresponded with the mine-chambers in the tunnel, smashed the glass -with the butt-end of his rifle and pulled down the first handle and the -second.</p> - -<p>The earth seemed to shake. A thunderous roar rolled under the tunnel and -spread far and long, like a reverberating echo.</p> - -<p>The way was blocked between Bernard d'Andeville and the eager pack that -was trying to catch him. Bernard could take Prince Conrad quietly to -France.</p> - -<p>Then Paul walked out of the shed, raising his arms in the air and -crying, in a cheerful voice:</p> - -<p>"<i>Kamerad! Kamerad!</i>"</p> - -<p>Ten men surrounded him in a moment; and the officer who commanded them -shouted, in a frenzy of rage:</p> - -<p>"Let him be shot! . . . At once . . . at once! . . . Let him be shot! -. . ."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /> -<span class="smalltext">THE LAW OF THE CONQUEROR</span></h2> - - -<p>Brutally handled though he was, Paul offered no resistance; and, while -they were pushing him with needless violence towards a perpendicular -part of the cliff, he continued his inner calculations:</p> - -<p>"It is mathematically certain that the two explosions took place at -distances of three hundred and four hundred yards, respectively. I can -therefore also take it as certain that Bernard and Prince Conrad were on -the far side and that the men in pursuit were on this side. So all is -for the best."</p> - -<p>Docilely and with a sort of chaffing complacency he submitted to the -preparations for his execution. The twelve soldiers entrusted with it -were already drawn up in line under the bright rays of an electric -search-light and were only waiting for the order. The corporal whom he -had wounded early in the fight dragged himself up to him and snarled:</p> - -<p>"Shot! . . . You're going to be shot, you dirty <i>Franzose</i>!"</p> - -<p>He answered, with a laugh:</p> - -<p>"Not a bit of it! Things don't happen as quickly as all that."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>"Shot!" repeated the other. "<i>Herr Leutnant</i> said so."</p> - -<p>"Well, what's he waiting for, your <i>Herr Leutnant</i>?"</p> - -<p>The lieutenant was making a rapid investigation at the entrance to the -tunnel. The men who had gone down it came running back, half-asphyxiated -by the fumes of the explosion. As for the sentry, whom Bernard had been -forced to get rid of, he was losing blood so profusely that it was no -use trying to obtain any fresh information from him.</p> - -<p>At that moment, news arrived from the barracks, where they had just -learnt, through a courier sent from the villa, that Prince Conrad had -disappeared. The officers were ordered to double the guard and to keep a -good lookout, especially at the approaches.</p> - -<p>Of course, Paul had counted on this diversion or some other of the same -kind which would delay his execution. The day was beginning to break and -he had little doubt that, Prince Conrad having been left dead drunk in -his bedroom, one of his servants had been told to keep a watch on him. -Finding the doors locked, the man must have given the alarm. This would -lead to an immediate search.</p> - -<p>But what surprised Paul was that no one suspected that the prince had -been carried off through the tunnel. The sentry was lying unconscious -and was unable to speak. The men had not realized that, of the two -fugitives seen at a distance, one was drag<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>ging the other along. In -short, it was thought that the prince had been assassinated. His -murderers must have flung his body into some corner of the quarries and -then taken to flight. Two of them had succeeded in escaping. The third -was a prisoner. And nobody for a second entertained the least suspicion -of an enterprise whose audacity simply surpassed imagination.</p> - -<p>In any case there could no longer be any question of shooting Paul -without a preliminary inquiry, the results of which must first be -communicated to the highest authorities. He was taken to the villa, -where he was divested of his German overcoat, carefully searched and -lastly was locked up in a bedroom under the protection of four stalwart -soldiers.</p> - -<p>He spent several hours in dozing, glad of this rest, which he needed so -badly, and feeling very easy in his mind, because, now that Karl was -dead, the Comtesse Hermine absent and Élisabeth in a place of safety, -there was nothing for him to do but to await the normal course of -events.</p> - -<p>At ten o'clock he was visited by a general who endeavored to question -him and who, receiving no satisfactory replies, grew angry, but with a -certain reserve in which Paul observed the sort of respect which people -feel for noted criminals. And he said to himself:</p> - -<p>"Everything is going as it should. This visit is only a preliminary to -prepare me for the coming of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> a more serious ambassador, a sort of -plenipotentiary."</p> - -<p>He gathered from the general's words that they were still looking for -the prince's body. They were now in fact looking for it beyond the -immediate precincts, for a new clue, provided by the discovery and the -revelations of the chauffeur whom Paul and Bernard had imprisoned in the -garage, as well as by the departure and return of the motor car, as -reported by the sentries, widened the field of investigation -considerably.</p> - -<p>At twelve o'clock Paul was provided with a substantial meal. The -attentions shown to him increased. Beer was served with the lunch and -afterwards coffee.</p> - -<p>"I shall perhaps be shot," he thought, "but with due formality and not -before they know exactly who the mysterious person is whom they have the -honor of shooting, not to mention the motives of his enterprise and the -results obtained. Now I alone am able to supply the details. -Consequently . . ."</p> - -<p>He so clearly felt the strength of his position and the necessity in -which his enemies stood to contribute to the success of his plan that he -was not surprised at being taken, an hour later, to a small drawing-room -in the villa, before two persons all over gold lace, who first had him -searched once more and then saw that he was fastened up with more -elaborate care than ever.</p> - -<p>"It must," he thought, "be at least the imperial<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> chancellor coming all -the way from Berlin to see me . . . unless indeed . . ."</p> - -<p>Deep down within himself, in view of the circumstances, he could not -help foreseeing an even more powerful intervention than the -chancellor's; and, when he heard a motor car stop under the windows of -the villa and saw the fluster of the two gold-laced individuals, he was -convinced that his anticipations were being fully confirmed.</p> - -<p>Everything was ready. Even before any one appeared, the two individuals -drew themselves up and stood to attention; and the soldiers, stiffer -still, looked like dolls out of a Noah's ark.</p> - -<p>The door opened. And a whirlwind entrance took place, amid a jingling of -spurs and saber. The man who arrived in this fashion at once gave an -impression of feverish haste and of imminent departure. What he intended -to do he must accomplish within the space of a few minutes.</p> - -<p>At a sign from him, all those present quitted the room.</p> - -<p>The Emperor and the French officer were left face to face. And the -Emperor immediately asked, in an angry voice:</p> - -<p>"Who are you? What did you come to do? Who are your accomplices? By -whose orders were you acting?"</p> - -<p>It was difficult to recognize in him the figure represented by his -photographs and the illustrations in the newspapers, for the face had -aged into a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> worn and wasted mask, furrowed with wrinkles and disfigured -with yellow blotches.</p> - -<p>Paul was quivering with hatred, not so much a personal hatred aroused by -the recollection of his own sufferings as a hatred made up of horror and -contempt for the greatest criminal imaginable. And, despite his absolute -resolve not to depart from the usual formulas and the rules of outward -respect, he answered:</p> - -<p>"Let them untie me!"</p> - -<p>The Emperor started. It was the first time certainly that any one had -spoken to him like that; and he exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"Why, you're forgetting that a word will be enough to have you shot! And -you dare! Conditions! . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul remained silent. The Emperor strode up and down, with his hand on -the hilt of his sword, which he dragged along the carpet. Twice he -stopped and looked at Paul; and, when Paul did not move an eyelid, he -resumed his march, with an increasing display of indignation. And, all -of a sudden, he pressed the button of an electric bell:</p> - -<p>"Untie him!" he said to the men who hurried into the room.</p> - -<p>When released from his bonds, Paul rose up and stood like a soldier in -the presence of his superior officer.</p> - -<p>The room was emptied once again. Then the Em<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>peror went up to Paul and, -leaving a table as a barrier between them, asked, still in a harsh -voice:</p> - -<p>"Prince Conrad?"</p> - -<p>Paul answered:</p> - -<p>"Prince Conrad is not dead, sir; he is well."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" said the Kaiser, evidently relieved. And, still reluctant to come -to the point, he continued: "That does not affect matters in so far as -you are concerned. Assault . . . espionage . . . not to speak of the -murder of one of my best servants. . . ."</p> - -<p>"Karl the spy, sir? I killed him in self-defense."</p> - -<p>"But you did kill him? Then for that murder and for the rest you shall -be shot."</p> - -<p>"No, sir. Prince Conrad's life is security for mine."</p> - -<p>The Emperor shrugged his shoulders:</p> - -<p>"If Prince Conrad is alive he will be found."</p> - -<p>"No, sir, he will not be found."</p> - -<p>"There is not a place in Germany where my searching will fail to find -him," he declared, striking the table with his fist.</p> - -<p>"Prince Conrad is not in Germany, sir."</p> - -<p>"Eh? What's that? Then where is he?"</p> - -<p>"In France."</p> - -<p>"In France!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, in France, at the Château d'Ornequin, in the custody of my -friends. If I am not back with them by six o'clock to-morrow evening, -Prince Conrad will be handed over to the military authorities."</p> - -<p>The Emperor seemed to be choking, so much so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> that his anger suddenly -collapsed and that he did not even seek to conceal the violence of the -blow. All the humiliation, all the ridicule that would fall upon him and -upon his dynasty and upon the empire if his son were a prisoner, the -loud laughter that would ring through the whole world at the news, the -assurance which the possession of such a hostage would give to the -enemy; all this showed in his anxious look and in the stoop of his -shoulders.</p> - -<p>Paul felt the thrill of victory. He held that man as firmly as you hold -under your knee the beaten foe who cries out for mercy; and the balance -of the forces in conflict was so definitely broken in his favor that the -Kaiser's very eyes, raised to Paul's, gave him a sense of his triumph.</p> - -<p>The Emperor was able to picture the various phases of the drama enacted -during the previous night: the arrival through the tunnel, the -kidnapping by the way of the tunnel, the exploding of the mines to -ensure the flight of the assailants; and the mad daring of the adventure -staggered him. He murmured:</p> - -<p>"Who are you?"</p> - -<p>Paul relaxed slightly from his rigid attitude. He placed a quivering -hand upon the table between them and said, in a grave tone:</p> - -<p>"Sixteen years ago, sir, in the late afternoon of a September day, you -inspected the works of the tunnel which you were building from Èbrecourt -to Corvigny under the guidance of a person—how shall I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> describe -her—of a person highly placed in your secret service. At the moment -when you were leaving a little chapel which stands in the Ornequin -woods, you met two Frenchmen, a father and son—you remember, sir? It -was raining—and the meeting was so disagreeable to you that you allowed -a gesture of annoyance to escape you. Ten minutes later, the lady who -accompanied you returned and tried to take one of the Frenchmen, the -father, back with her to German territory, alleging as a pretext that -you wished to speak to him. The Frenchman refused. The woman murdered -him before his son's eyes. His name was Delroze. He was my father."</p> - -<p>The Kaiser had listened with increasing astonishment. It seemed to Paul -that his color had become more jaundiced than ever. Nevertheless he kept -his countenance under Paul's gaze. To him the death of that M. Delroze -was one of those minor incidents over which an emperor does not waste -time. Did he so much as remember it?</p> - -<p>He therefore declined to enter into the details of a crime which he had -certainly not ordered, though his indulgence for the criminal had made -him a party to it, and he contented himself, after a pause, with -observing:</p> - -<p>"The Comtesse Hermine is responsible for her own actions."</p> - -<p>"And responsible only to herself," Paul retorted, "seeing that the -police of her country refused to let her be called to account for this -one."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>The Emperor shrugged his shoulders, with the air of a man who scorns to -discuss questions of German morality and higher politics. He looked at -his watch, rang the bell, gave notice that he would be ready to leave in -a few minutes and, turning to Paul, said:</p> - -<p>"So it was to avenge your father's death that you carried off Prince -Conrad?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, that is a question between the Comtesse Hermine and me; but -with Prince Conrad I have another matter to settle. When Prince Conrad -was staying at the Château d'Ornequin, he pestered with his attentions a -lady living in the house. Finding himself rebuffed by her, he brought -her here, to his villa, as a prisoner. The lady bears my name; and I -came to fetch her."</p> - -<p>It was evident from the Emperor's attitude that he knew nothing of the -story and that his son's pranks were a great source of worry to him.</p> - -<p>"Are you sure?" he asked. "Is the lady here?"</p> - -<p>"She was here last night, sir. But the Comtesse Hermine resolved to do -away with her and gave her into the charge of Karl the spy, with -instructions to take her out of Prince Conrad's reach and poison her."</p> - -<p>"That's a lie!" cried the Emperor. "A damnable lie!"</p> - -<p>"There is the bottle which the Comtesse Hermine handed to Karl the -spy."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>"And then? And then?" said the Kaiser, in an angry voice.</p> - -<p>"Then, sir, as Karl the spy was dead and as I did not know the place to -which my wife had been taken, I came back here. Prince Conrad was -asleep. With the aid of one of my friends, I brought him down from his -room and sent him into France through the tunnel."</p> - -<p>"And I suppose, in return for his liberty, you want the liberty of your -wife?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"But I don't know where she is!" exclaimed the Emperor.</p> - -<p>"She is in a country house belonging to the Comtesse Hermine. Perhaps, -if you would just think, sir . . . a country house a few hours off by -motor car, say, a hundred or a hundred and twenty miles at most."</p> - -<p>The Emperor, without speaking, kept tapping the table angrily with the -pommel of his sword. Then he said:</p> - -<p>"Is that all you ask?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>"What? You want something more?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, the release of twenty French prisoners whose names appear on -a list given me by the French commander-in-chief."</p> - -<p>This time the Emperor sprang to his feet with a bound:</p> - -<p>"You're mad! Twenty prisoners! And of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>ficers, I expect? Commanders of -army corps? Generals?"</p> - -<p>"The list also contains the names of privates, sir."</p> - -<p>The Emperor refused to listen. His fury found expression in wild -gestures and incoherent words. His eyes shot terrible glances at Paul. -The idea of taking his orders from that little French subaltern, himself -a captive and yet in a position to lay down the law, must have been -fearfully unpleasant. Instead of punishing his insolent enemy, he had to -argue with him and to bow his head before his outrageous proposals. But -he had no choice. There was no means of escape. He had as his adversary -one whom not even torture would have caused to yield.</p> - -<p>And Paul continued:</p> - -<p>"Sir, my wife's liberty against Prince Conrad's liberty would really not -be a fair bargain. What do you care, sir, whether my wife is a prisoner -or free? No, it is only reasonable that Prince Conrad's release should -be the object of an exchange which justifies it. And twenty French -prisoners are none too many. . . . Besides, there is no need for this to -be done publicly. The prisoners can come back to France, one by one, if -you prefer, as though in exchange for German prisoners of the same rank -. . . so that . . ."</p> - -<p>The irony of these conciliatory words, intended to soften the bitterness -of defeat and to conceal the blow struck at the imperial pride under the -guise of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> a concession! Paul thoroughly relished those few minutes. He -received the impression that this man, upon whom a comparatively slight -injury to his self-respect inflicted so great a torment, must be -suffering more seriously still at seeing his gigantic scheme come to -nothing under the formidable onslaught of destiny.</p> - -<p>"I am nicely revenged," thought Paul to himself. "And this is only the -beginning!"</p> - -<p>The capitulation was at hand. The Emperor declared:</p> - -<p>"I shall see. . . . I will give orders. . . ."</p> - -<p>Paul protested:</p> - -<p>"It would be dangerous to wait, sir. Prince Conrad's capture might -become known in France . . ."</p> - -<p>"Well," said the Emperor, "bring Prince Conrad back and your wife shall -be restored to you the same day."</p> - -<p>But Paul was pitiless. He insisted on being treated with entire -confidence:</p> - -<p>"No, sir," he said, "I do not think that things can happen just like -that. My wife is in a most horrible position; and her very life is at -stake. I must ask to be taken to her at once. She and I will be in -France this evening. It is imperative that we should be in France this -evening."</p> - -<p>He repeated the words in a very firm tone and added:</p> - -<p>"As for the French prisoners, sir, they can be returned under such -conditions as you may be pleased<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> to state. I will give you a list of -their names with the places at which they are interned."</p> - -<p>Paul took a pencil and a sheet of paper. When he had finished writing, -the Emperor snatched the list from him and his face immediately became -convulsed. At each name he seemed to shake with impotent rage. He -crumpled the paper into a ball, as though he had resolved to break off -the whole arrangement. But, all of a sudden, abandoning his resistance, -with a hurried movement, as though feverishly determined to have done -with an exasperating business, he rang the bell three times.</p> - -<p>An orderly officer entered with a brisk step and brought his heels -together before the Kaiser.</p> - -<p>The Emperor reflected a few seconds longer. Then he gave his commands:</p> - -<p>"Take Lieutenant Delroze in a motor car to Schloss Hildensheim and bring -him back with his wife to the Èbrecourt outposts. On this day week, meet -him at the same point on our lines. He will be accompanied by Prince -Conrad and you by the twenty French prisoners whose names are on this -list. You will effect the exchange in a discreet manner, which you will -fix upon with Lieutenant Delroze. That will do. Keep me informed by -personal reports."</p> - -<p>This was uttered in a jerky, authoritative tone, as though it were a -series of measures which the Emperor had adopted of his own initiative, -without un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>dergoing pressure of any kind and by the mere exercise of his -imperial will.</p> - -<p>And, having thus settled the matter, he walked out, carrying his head -high, swaggering with his sword and jingling his spurs.</p> - -<p>"One more victory to his credit! What a play-actor!" thought Paul, who -could not help laughing, to the officer's great horror.</p> - -<p>He heard the Emperor's motor drive away. The interview had lasted hardly -ten minutes.</p> - -<p>A moment later he himself was outside, hastening along the road to -Hildensheim.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /> -<span class="smalltext">HILL 132</span></h2> - - -<p>What a ride it was! And how gay Paul Delroze felt! He was at last -attaining his object; and this time it was not one of those hazardous -enterprises which so often end in cruel disappointment, but the logical -outcome and reward of his efforts. He was beyond the reach of the least -shade of anxiety. There are victories—and his recent victory over the -Emperor was one of them—which involve the disappearance of every -obstacle. Élisabeth was at Hildensheim Castle and he was on his way to -the castle and nothing would stop him.</p> - -<p>He seemed to recognize by the daylight features in the landscape which -had been hidden from him by the darkness of the night before: a hamlet -here, a village there, a river which he had skirted. He saw the string -of little road-side woods, and he saw the ditch by which he had fought -with Karl the spy.</p> - -<p>It took hardly more than another hour to reach the hill which was topped -by the feudal fortress of Hildensheim. It was surrounded by a wide moat, -spanned by a draw-bridge. A suspicious porter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> made his appearance, but -a few words from the officer caused the doors to be flung open.</p> - -<p>Two footmen hurried down from the castle and, in reply to Paul's -question, said that the French lady was walking near the pond. He asked -the way and said to the officer:</p> - -<p>"I shall go alone. We shall start very soon."</p> - -<p>It had been raining. A pale winter sun, stealing through the heavy -clouds, lit up the lawns and shrubberies. Paul went along a row of -hot-houses and climbed an artificial rockery whence trickled the thin -stream of a waterfall which formed a large pool set in a frame of dark -fir trees and alive with swans and wild duck.</p> - -<p>At the end of the pool was a terrace adorned with statues and stone -benches. And there he saw Élisabeth.</p> - -<p>Paul underwent an indescribable emotion. He had not spoken to his wife -since the outbreak of war. Since that day, Élisabeth had suffered the -most horrible trials and had suffered them for the simple reason that -she wished to appear in her husband's eyes as a blameless wife, the -daughter of a blameless mother.</p> - -<p>And now he was about to meet her again at a time when none of the -accusations which he had brought against the Comtesse Hermine could be -rebuffed and when Élisabeth herself had roused Paul to such a pitch of -indignation by her presence at Prince Conrad's supper-party! <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>. . .</p> - -<p>But how long ago it all seemed! And how little it mattered! Prince -Conrad's blackguardism, the Comtesse Hermine's crimes, the ties of -relationship that might unite the two women, all the struggles which -Paul had passed through, all his anguish, all his rebelliousness, all -his loathing, were but so many insignificant details, now that he saw at -twenty paces from him his unhappy darling whom he loved so well. He no -longer thought of the tears which she had shed and saw nothing but her -wasted figure, shivering in the wintry wind.</p> - -<p>He walked towards her. His steps grated on the gravel path; and -Élisabeth turned round.</p> - -<p>She did not make a single gesture. He understood, from the expression of -her face, that she did not see him, really, that she looked upon him as -a phantom rising from the mists of dreams and that this phantom must -often float before her deluded eyes.</p> - -<p>She even smiled at him a little, such a sad smile that Paul clasped his -hands and was nearly falling on his knees:</p> - -<p>"Élisabeth. . . . Élisabeth," he stammered.</p> - -<p>Then she drew herself up and put her hand to her heart and turned even -paler than she had been the evening before, seated between Prince Conrad -and Comtesse Hermine. The image was emerging from the realm of mist; the -reality grew plainer before her eyes and in her brain. This time she saw -Paul!</p> - -<p>He ran towards her, for she seemed on the point of falling. But she -recovered herself, put out her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> hands to make him stay where he was and -looked at him with an effort as though she would have penetrated to the -very depths of his soul to read his thoughts.</p> - -<p>Paul, trembling with love from head to foot, did not stir. She murmured:</p> - -<p>"Ah, I see that you love me . . . that you have never ceased to love me! -. . . I am sure of it now . . ."</p> - -<p>She kept her arms outstretched, however, as though against an obstacle, -and he himself did not attempt to come closer. All their life and all -their happiness lay in their eyes; and, while her gaze wildly -encountered his, she went on:</p> - -<p>"They told me that you were a prisoner. Is it true, then? Oh, how I have -implored them to take me to you! How low I have stooped! I have even had -to sit down to table with them and laugh at their jokes and wear jewels -and pearl necklaces which he has forced upon me. All this in order to -see you! . . . And they kept on promising. And then, at length, they -brought me here last night and I thought that they had tricked me once -more . . . or else that it was a fresh trap . . . or that they had at -last made up their minds to kill me. . . . And now here you are, here -you are, Paul, my own darling! . . ."</p> - -<p>She took his face in her two hands and, suddenly, in a voice of despair:</p> - -<p>"But you are not going just yet? You will stay till to-morrow, surely? -They can't take you from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> me like that, after a few minutes? You're -staying, are you not? Oh, Paul, all my courage is gone . . . don't leave -me! . . ."</p> - -<p>She was greatly surprised to see him smile:</p> - -<p>"What's the matter? Why, my dearest, how happy you look!"</p> - -<p>He began to laugh and this time, drawing her to him with a masterful air -that admitted of no denial, he kissed her hair and her forehead and her -cheeks and her lips; and he said:</p> - -<p>"I am laughing because there is nothing to do but to laugh and kiss you. -I am laughing also because I have been imagining so many silly things. -Yes, just think, at that supper last night, I saw you from a distance -. . . and I suffered agonies: I accused you of I don't know what. . . . -Oh, what a fool I was!"</p> - -<p>She could not understand his gaiety; and she said again:</p> - -<p>"How happy you are! How can you be so happy?"</p> - -<p>"There is no reason why I should not be," said Paul, still laughing.</p> - -<p>"Come, look at things as they are: you and I are meeting after -unheard-of misfortunes. We are together; nothing can separate us; and -you wouldn't have me be glad?"</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to say that nothing can separate us?" she asked, in a voice -quivering with anxiety.</p> - -<p>"Why, of course! Is that so strange?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>"You are staying with me? Are we to live here?"</p> - -<p>"No, not that! What an idea! You're going to pack up your things at -express speed and we shall be off."</p> - -<p>"Where to?"</p> - -<p>"Where to? To France, of course. When you think of it, that's the only -country where one's really comfortable."</p> - -<p>And, when she stared at him in amazement, he said:</p> - -<p>"Come, let's hurry. The car's waiting; and I promised Bernard—yes, your -brother Bernard—that we should be with him to-night. . . . Are you -ready? But why that astounded look? Do you want to have things explained -to you? But, my very dearest, it will take hours and hours to explain -everything that's happened to yourself and me. You've turned the head of -an imperial prince . . . and then you were shot . . . and then . . . and -then . . . Oh, what does it all matter? Must I force you to come away -with me?"</p> - -<p>All at once she understood that he was speaking seriously; and, without -taking her eyes from him, she asked:</p> - -<p>"Is it true? Are we free?"</p> - -<p>"Absolutely free."</p> - -<p>"We're going back to France?"</p> - -<p>"Immediately."</p> - -<p>"We have nothing more to fear?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing."</p> - -<p>The tension from which she was suffering sud<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>denly relaxed. She in her -turn began to laugh, yielding to one of those fits of uncontrollable -mirth which find vent in every sort of childish nonsense. She could have -sung, she could have danced for sheer joy. And yet the tears flowed down -her cheeks. And she stammered:</p> - -<p>"Free! . . . it's all over! . . . Have I been through much? . . . Not at -all! . . . Oh, you know that I had been shot? Well, I assure you, it -wasn't so bad as all that. . . . I will tell you about it and lots of -other things. . . . And you must tell me, too. . . . But how did you -manage? You must be cleverer than the cleverest, cleverer than the -unspeakable Conrad, cleverer than the Emperor! Oh, dear, how funny it -is, how funny! . . ."</p> - -<p>She broke off and, seizing him forcibly by the arm, said:</p> - -<p>"Let us go, darling. It's madness to remain another second. These people -are capable of anything. They look upon no promise as binding. They are -scoundrels, criminals. Let's go. . . . Let's go. . . ."</p> - -<p>They went away.</p> - -<p>Their journey was uneventful. In the evening, they reached the lines on -the front, facing Èbrecourt.</p> - -<p>The officer on duty, who had full powers, had a reflector lit and -himself, after ordering a white flag to be displayed, took Élisabeth and -Paul to the French officer who came forward.</p> - -<p>The officer telephoned to the rear. A motor car<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> was sent; and, at nine -o'clock, Paul and Élisabeth pulled up at the gates of Ornequin and Paul -asked to have Bernard sent for. He met him half-way:</p> - -<p>"Is that you, Bernard?" he said. "Listen to me and don't let us waste a -minute. I have brought back Élisabeth. Yes, she's here, in the car. We -are off to Corvigny and you're coming with us. While I go for my bag and -yours, you give instructions to have Prince Conrad closely watched. He's -safe, isn't he?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Then hurry. I want to get at the woman whom you saw last night as she -was entering the tunnel. Now that she's in France, we'll hunt her down."</p> - -<p>"Don't you think, Paul, that we should be more likely to find her tracks -by ourselves going back into the tunnel and searching the place where it -opens at Corvigny?"</p> - -<p>"We can't afford the time. We have arrived at a phase of the struggle -that demands the utmost haste."</p> - -<p>"But, Paul, the struggle is over, now that Élisabeth is saved."</p> - -<p>"The struggle will never be over as long as that woman lives."</p> - -<p>"Well, but who is she?"</p> - -<p>Paul did not answer.</p> - -<p>At ten o'clock they all three alighted outside the station at Corvigny. -There were no more trains.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> Everybody was asleep. Paul refused to be put -off, went to the military guard, woke up the adjutant, sent for the -station-master, sent for the booking-clerk and, after a minute inquiry, -succeeded in establishing the fact that on that same Monday morning a -woman supplied with a pass in the name of Mme. Antonin had taken a -ticket for Château-Thierry. She was the only woman traveling alone. She -was wearing a Red Cross uniform. Her description corresponded at all -points with that of the Comtesse Hermine.</p> - -<p>"It's certainly she," said Paul, when they had taken their rooms for the -night at the hotel near the station. "There's no doubt about it. It's -the only way she could go from Corvigny. And it's the way that we shall -go to-morrow morning, at the same time that she did. I hope that she -will not have time to carry out the scheme that has brought her to -France. In any case, this is a great opportunity; and we must make the -most of it."</p> - -<p>"But who is the woman?" Bernard asked again.</p> - -<p>"Who is she? Ask Élisabeth to tell you. We have an hour left in which to -discuss certain details and then we must go to bed. We need rest, all -three of us."</p> - -<p>They started on the Tuesday morning. Paul's confidence was unshaken. -Though he knew nothing of the Comtesse Hermine's intentions, he felt -sure that he was on the right road. And, in fact, they were told several -times that a Red Cross nurse, trav<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>eling first-class and alone, had -passed through the same stations on the day before.</p> - -<p>They got out at Château-Thierry late in the afternoon. Paul made his -inquiries. On the previous evening, the nurse had driven away in a Red -Cross motor car which was waiting at the station. This car, according to -the papers carried by the driver, belonged to one of the ambulances -working to the rear of Soissons; but the exact position of the ambulance -was not known.</p> - -<p>This was near enough for Paul, however. Soissons was in the battle line.</p> - -<p>"Let's go to Soissons," he said.</p> - -<p>The order signed by the commander-in-chief which he had on him gave him -full power to requisition a motor car and to enter the fighting zone. -They reached Soissons at dinner-time.</p> - -<p>The outskirts, ruined by the bombardment, were deserted. The town itself -seemed abandoned for the greater part. But as they came nearer to the -center a certain animation prevailed in the streets. Companies of -soldiers passed at a quick pace. Guns and ammunition wagons trotted by. -In the hotel to which they went on the Grande Place, a hotel containing -a number of officers, there was general excitement, with much coming and -going and even a little disorder.</p> - -<p>Paul and Bernard asked the reason. They were told that, for some days -past, we had been successfully attacking the slopes opposite Soissons, -on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> other side of the Aisne. Two days before, some battalions of -light infantry and African troops had taken Hill 132 by assault. On the -following day, we held the positions which we had won and carried the -trenches on the Dent de Crouy. Then, in the course of the Monday night -at a time when the enemy was delivering a violent counter-attack, a -curious thing happened. The Aisne, which was swollen as the result of -the heavy rains, overflowed its banks and carried away all the bridges -at Villeneuve and Soissons.</p> - -<p>The rise of the Aisne was natural enough; but, high though the river -was, it did not explain the destruction of the bridges; and this -destruction, coinciding with the German counter-attack and apparently -due to suspect reasons which had not yet been cleared up, had -complicated the position of the French troops by making the dispatch of -reinforcements almost impossible. Our men had held the hill all day, but -with difficulty and with great losses. At this moment, a part of the -artillery was being moved back to the right bank of the Aisne.</p> - -<p>Paul and Bernard did not hesitate in their minds for a second. In all -this they recognized the Comtesse Hermine's handiwork. The destruction -of the bridges, the German attacks, those two incidents which happened -on the very night of her arrival were, beyond a doubt, the outcome of a -plan conceived by her, the execution of which had been prepared for the -time when the rains were bound to swell the river<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> and proved the -collaboration existing between the countess and the enemy's staff.</p> - -<p>Besides, Paul remembered the sentences which she had exchanged with Karl -the spy outside the door of Prince Conrad's villa:</p> - -<p>"I am going to France . . . everything is ready. The weather is in our -favor; and the staff have told me. . . . So I shall be there to-morrow -evening; and it will only need a touch of the thumb. . . ."</p> - -<p>She had given that touch of the thumb. All the bridges had been tampered -with by Karl or by men in his pay and had now broken down.</p> - -<p>"It's she, obviously enough," said Bernard. "And, if it is, why look so -anxious? You ought to be glad, on the contrary, because we are now -positively certain of laying hold of her."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but shall we do so in time? When she spoke to Karl, she uttered -another threat which struck me as much more serious. As I told you, she -said, 'Luck is turning against us. If I succeed, it will be the end of -the run on the black.' And, when the spy asked her if she had the -Emperor's consent, she answered that it was unnecessary and that this -was one of the undertakings which one doesn't talk about. You -understand, Bernard, it's not a question of the German attack or the -destruction of the bridges: that is honest warfare and the Emperor knows -all about it. No, it's a question of something different, which is -intended to coincide with other events and give them their full -significance. The woman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> can't think that an advance of half a mile or a -mile is an incident capable of ending what she calls the run on the -black. Then what is at the back of it all? I don't know; and that -accounts for my anxiety."</p> - -<p>Paul spent the whole of that evening and the whole of the next day, -Wednesday the 13th, in making prolonged searches in the streets of the -town or along the banks of the Aisne. He had placed himself in -communication with the military authorities. Officers and men took part -in his investigations. They went over several houses and questioned a -number of the inhabitants.</p> - -<p>Bernard offered to go with him; but Paul persisted in refusing:</p> - -<p>"No. It is true, the woman doesn't know you; but she must not see your -sister. I am asking you therefore to stay with Élisabeth, to keep her -from going out and to watch over her without a moment's intermission, -for we have to do with the most terrible enemy imaginable."</p> - -<p>The brother and sister therefore passed the long hours of that day with -their faces glued to the window-panes. Paul came back at intervals to -snatch a meal. He was quivering with hope.</p> - -<p>"She's here," he said. "She must have left those who were with her in -the motor car, dropped her nurse's disguise and is now hiding in some -hole, like a spider behind its web. I can see her, telephone in hand, -giving her orders to a whole band of people, who have taken to earth -like herself and made them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>selves invisible like her. But I am beginning -to perceive her plan and I have one advantage over her, which is that -she believes herself in safety. She does not know that her accomplice, -Karl, is dead. She does not know of Élisabeth's release. She does not -know of our presence here. I've got her, the loathsome beast, I've got -her."</p> - -<p>The news of the battle, meanwhile, was not improving. The retreating -movement on the left bank continued. At Crouy, the severity of their -losses and the depth of the mud stopped the rush of the Moroccan troops. -A hurriedly-constructed pontoon bridge went drifting down-stream.</p> - -<p>When Paul made his next appearance, at six o'clock in the evening, there -were a few drops of blood on his sleeve. Élisabeth took alarm.</p> - -<p>"It's nothing," he said, with a laugh. "A scratch; I don't know how I -got it."</p> - -<p>"But your hand; look at your hand. You're bleeding!"</p> - -<p>"No, it's not my blood. Don't be frightened. Everything's all right."</p> - -<p>Bernard said:</p> - -<p>"You know the commander-in-chief came to Soissons this morning."</p> - -<p>"Yes, so it seems. All the better. I should like to make him a present -of the spy and her gang. It would be a handsome gift."</p> - -<p>He went away for another hour and then came back and had dinner.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>"You look as though you were sure of things now," said Bernard.</p> - -<p>"One can never be sure of anything. That woman is the very devil."</p> - -<p>"But you know where she's hiding?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And what are you waiting for?"</p> - -<p>"I'm waiting for nine o'clock. I shall take a rest till then. Wake me up -at a little before nine."</p> - -<p>The guns never ceased booming in the distant darkness. Sometimes a shell -would fall on the town with a great crash. Troops passed in every -direction. Then there would be brief intervals of silence, in which the -sounds of war seemed to hang in suspense; and it was those minutes which -perhaps were most formidable and significant.</p> - -<p>Paul woke of himself. He said to his wife and Bernard:</p> - -<p>"You know, you're coming, too. It will be rough work, Élisabeth, very -rough work. Are you certain that you're equal to it?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Paul . . . But you yourself are looking so pale."</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said, "it's the excitement. Not because of what is going to -happen. But, in spite of all my precautions, I shall be afraid until the -last moment that the adversary will escape. A single act of -carelessness, a stroke of ill-luck that gives the alarm . . . and I -shall have to begin all over again. . . . Never mind about your -revolver, Bernard."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>"What!" cried Bernard. "Isn't there going to be any fighting in this -expedition of yours?"</p> - -<p>Paul did not reply. According to his custom, he expressed himself during -or after action. Bernard took his revolver.</p> - -<p>The last stroke of nine sounded as they crossed the Grande Place, amid a -darkness stabbed here and there by a thin ray of light issuing from a -closed shop. A group of soldiers were massed in the forecourt of the -cathedral, whose shadowy bulk they felt looming overhead.</p> - -<p>Paul flashed the light from an electric lamp upon them and asked the one -in command:</p> - -<p>"Any news, sergeant?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir. No one has entered the house and no one has gone out."</p> - -<p>The sergeant gave a low whistle. In the middle of the street, two men -emerged from the surrounding gloom and approached the group.</p> - -<p>"Any sound in the house?"</p> - -<p>"No, sergeant."</p> - -<p>"Any light behind the shutters?"</p> - -<p>"No, sergeant."</p> - -<p>Then Paul marched ahead and, while the others, in obedience to his -instructions, followed him without making the least noise, he stepped on -resolutely, like a belated wayfarer making for home.</p> - -<p>They stopped at a narrow-fronted house, the ground-floor of which was -hardly distinguishable in the darkness of the night. Three steps led to -the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> door. Paul gave four sharp taps and, at the same time, took a key -from his pocket and opened the door.</p> - -<p>He switched on his electric lamp again in the passage and, while his -companions continued as silent as before, turned to a mirror which rose -straight from the flagged floor. He gave four little taps on the mirror -and then pushed it, pressing one side of it. It masked the aperture of a -staircase which led to the basement; and Paul sent the light of his -lantern down the well.</p> - -<p>This appeared to be a signal, the third signal agreed upon, for a voice -from below, a woman's voice, but hoarse and rasping in its tones, asked:</p> - -<p>"Is that you, Daddy Walter?"</p> - -<p>The moment had come to act. Without answering, Paul rushed down the -stairs, taking four steps at a time. He reached the bottom just as a -massive door was closing, almost barring his access to the cellar.</p> - -<p>He gave a strong push and entered.</p> - -<p>The Comtesse Hermine was there, in the semi-darkness, motionless, -hesitating what to do.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly she ran to the other end of the cellar, seized a revolver -on the table, turned round and fired.</p> - -<p>The hammer clicked, but there was no report.</p> - -<p>She repeated the action three times; and the result, was three times the -same.</p> - -<p>"It's no use going on," said Paul, with a laugh. "The charge has been -removed."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span>The countess uttered a cry of rage, opened the drawer of the table and, -taking another revolver, pulled the trigger four times, without -producing a sound.</p> - -<p>"You may as well drop it," laughed Paul. "This one has been emptied, -too; and so has the one in the other drawer: so have all the firearms in -the house, for that matter."</p> - -<p>Then, when she stared at him in amazement, without understanding, dazed -by her own helplessness, he bowed and introduced himself, just in two -words, which meant so much:</p> - -<p>"Paul Delroze."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /> -<span class="smalltext">HOHENZOLLERN</span></h2> - - -<p>The cellar, though smaller, looked like one of those large vaulted -basement halls which prevail in the Champagne district. Walls spotlessly -clean, a smooth floor with brick paths running across it, a warm -atmosphere, a curtained-off recess between two wine vats, chairs, -benches and rugs all went to form not only a comfortable abode, out of -the way of the shells, but also a safe refuge for any one who stood in -fear of indiscreet visits.</p> - -<p>Paul remembered the ruins of the old lighthouse on the bank of the Yser -and the tunnel from Ornequin to Èbrecourt. So the struggle was still -continuing underground: a war of trenches and cellars, a war of spying -and trickery, the same unvarying, stealthy, disgraceful, suspicious, -criminal methods.</p> - -<p>Paul had put out his lantern, and the room was now only dimly lit by an -oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, whose rays, thrown downward by an -opaque shade, cast a white circle in which the two of them stood by -themselves. Élisabeth and Bernard remained in the background, in the -shadow.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>The sergeant and his men had not appeared, but they could be heard at -the foot of the stairs.</p> - -<p>The countess did not move. She was dressed as on the evening of the -supper at Prince Conrad's villa. Her face showed no longer any fear or -alarm, but rather an effort of thought, as though she were trying to -calculate all the consequences of the position now revealed to her. Paul -Delroze? With what object was he attacking her? His intention—and this -was evidently the idea that gradually caused the Comtesse Hermine's -features to relax—his intention no doubt was to procure his wife's -liberty.</p> - -<p>She smiled. Élisabeth a prisoner in Germany: what a trump card for -herself, caught in a trap but still able to command events!</p> - -<p>At a sign from Paul, Bernard stepped forward and Paul said to the -countess:</p> - -<p>"My brother-in-law. Major Hermann, when he lay trussed up in the -ferryman's house, may have seen him, just as he may have seen me. But, -in any case, the Comtesse Hermine—or, to be more exact, the Comtesse -d'Andeville—does not know or at least has forgotten her son, Bernard -d'Andeville."</p> - -<p>She now seemed quite reassured, still wearing the air of one fighting -with equal or even more powerful weapons. She displayed no confusion at -the sight of Bernard, and said, in a careless tone:</p> - -<p>"Bernard d'Andeville is very like his sister Élisabeth, of whom -circumstances have allowed me to see a great deal lately. It is only -three days since she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> and I were having supper with Prince Conrad. The -prince is very fond of Élisabeth, and he is quite right, for she is -charming . . . and so amiable!"</p> - -<p>Paul and Bernard both made the same movement, which would have ended in -their flinging themselves upon the countess, if they had not succeeded -in restraining their hatred. Paul pushed aside his brother-in-law, of -whose intense anger he was conscious, and replied to his adversary's -challenge in an equally casual tone:</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know all about it; I was there. I was even present at her -departure. Your friend Karl offered me a seat in his car and we went off -to your place at Hildensheim: a very handsome castle, which I should -have liked to see more thoroughly. . . . But it is not a safe house to -stay at; in fact, it is often deadly; and so . . ."</p> - -<p>The countess looked at him with increasing disquiet. What did he mean to -convey? How did he know these things? She resolved to frighten him in -his turn, so as to gain some idea of the enemy's plans, and she said, in -a hard voice:</p> - -<p>"Yes, deadly is the word. The air there is not good for everybody."</p> - -<p>"A poisonous air."</p> - -<p>"Just so."</p> - -<p>"And are you nervous about Élisabeth?"</p> - -<p>"Frankly, yes. The poor thing's health is none of the best, as it is; -and I shall not be easy . . ."</p> - -<p>"Until she's dead, I suppose?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>She waited a second or two and then retorted, speaking very clearly, so -that Paul might take in the meaning of her words:</p> - -<p>"Yes, until she is dead. . . . And that can't be far off . . . if it has -not happened already."</p> - -<p>There was a pause of some length. Once more, in the presence of that -woman, Paul felt the same craving to commit murder, the same craving to -gratify his hatred. She must be killed. It was his duty to kill her, it -was a crime not to obey that duty.</p> - -<p>Élisabeth was standing three paces back, in the dark. Slowly, without a -word, Paul turned in her direction, pressed the spring of his lantern -and flashed the light full on his wife's face.</p> - -<p>Not for a moment did he suspect the violent effect which his action -would have on the Comtesse Hermine. A woman like her was incapable of -making a mistake, of thinking herself the victim of an hallucination or -the dupe of a resemblance. No, she at once accepted the fact that Paul -had delivered his wife and that Élisabeth was standing in front of her. -But how was so disastrous an event possible? Élisabeth, whom three days -before she had left in Karl's hands; Élisabeth, who at this very moment -ought to be either dead or a prisoner in a German fortress, the access -to which was guarded by more than two million German soldiers: Élisabeth -was here! She had escaped Karl in less than three days! She had fled -from Hildensheim Castle and passed through the lines of those two -million Germans!</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>The Comtesse Hermine sat down with distorted features at the table that -served her as a rampart and, in her fury, dug her clenched fists into -her cheeks. She realized the position. The time was past for jesting or -defiance. The time was past for bargaining. In the hideous game which -she was playing, the last chance of victory had suddenly slipped from -her grasp. She must yield before the conqueror; and that conqueror was -Paul Delroze.</p> - -<p>She stammered:</p> - -<p>"What do you propose to do? What is your object? To murder me?"</p> - -<p>He shrugged his shoulders:</p> - -<p>"We are not murderers. You are here to be tried. The penalty which you -will suffer will be the sentence passed upon you after a lawful trial, -in which you will be able to defend yourself."</p> - -<p>A shiver ran through her; and she protested:</p> - -<p>"You have no right to try me; you are not judges."</p> - -<p>At that moment there was a noise on the stairs. A voice cried:</p> - -<p>"Eyes front!"</p> - -<p>And, immediately after, the door, which had remained ajar, was flung -open, admitting three officers in their long cloaks.</p> - -<p>Paul hastened towards them and gave them chairs in that part of the room -which the light did not reach. A fourth arrived, who was also received -by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> Paul and took a seat to one side, a little farther away.</p> - -<p>Élisabeth and Paul were close together.</p> - -<p>Paul went back to his place in front and, standing beside the table, -said:</p> - -<p>"There are your judges. I am the prosecutor."</p> - -<p>And forthwith, without hesitation, as though he had settled beforehand -all the counts of the indictment which he was about to deliver, speaking -in a tone deliberately free from any trace of anger or hatred, he said:</p> - -<p>"You were born at Hildensheim Castle, of which your grandfather was the -steward. The castle was given to your father after the war of 1870. Your -name is really Hermine: Hermine von Hohenzollern. Your father used to -boast of that name of Hohenzollern, though he had no right to it; but -the extraordinary favor in which he stood with the old Emperor prevented -any one from contesting his claim. He served in the campaign of 1870 as -a colonel and distinguished himself by the most outrageous acts of -cruelty and rapacity. All the treasures that adorn Hildensheim Castle -come from France; and, to complete the brazenness of it, each object -bears a note giving the place from which it came and the name of the -owner from whom it was stolen. In addition, in the hall there is a -marble slab inscribed in letters of gold with the name of all the French -villages burnt by order of His Excellency Colonel Count Hohenzollern. -The Kaiser has often<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> visited the castle. Each time he passes in front -of that marble slab he salutes."</p> - -<p>The countess listened without paying much heed. This story obviously -seemed to her of but indifferent importance. She waited until she -herself came into question.</p> - -<p>Paul continued:</p> - -<p>"You inherited from your father two sentiments which dominate your whole -existence. One of these is an immoderate love for the Hohenzollern -dynasty, with which your father appears to have been connected by the -hazard of an imperial or rather a royal whim. The other is a fierce and -savage hatred for France, which he regretted not to have injured as -deeply as he would have liked. Your love for the dynasty you -concentrated wholly, as soon as you had achieved womanhood, upon the man -who represents it now, so much so that, after entertaining the unlikely -hope of ascending the throne, you forgave him everything, even his -marriage, even his ingratitude, to devote yourself to him body and soul. -Married by him first to an Austrian prince, who died a mysterious death, -and then to a Russian prince, who died an equally mysterious death, you -worked solely for the greatness of your idol. At the time when war was -declared between England and the Transvaal, you were in the Transvaal. -At the time of the Russo-Japanese war, you were in Japan. You were -everywhere: at Vienna, when the Crown Prince Rudolph was assassinated; -at Belgrade when King Alexander<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> and Queen Draga were assassinated. But -I will not linger over the part played by you in diplomatic events. It -is time that I came to your favorite occupation, the work which for the -last twenty years you have carried on against France."</p> - -<p>An expression of wickedness and almost of happiness distorted the -Comtesse Hermine's features. Yes, indeed, that was her favorite -occupation. She had devoted all her strength to it and all her perverse -intelligence.</p> - -<p>"And even so," added Paul, "I shall not linger over the gigantic work of -preparation and espionage which you directed. I have found one of your -accomplices, armed with a dagger bearing your initials, even in a -village of the Nord, in a church-steeple. All that happened was -conceived, organized and carried out by yourself. The proofs which I -collected, your correspondent's letters and your own letters, are -already in the possession of the court. But what I wish to lay special -stress upon is that part of your work which concerns the Château -d'Ornequin. It will not take long: a few facts, linked together by -murders, will be enough."</p> - -<p>There was a further silence. The countess prepared to listen with a sort -of anxious curiosity. Paul went on:</p> - -<p>"It was in 1894 that you suggested to the Emperor the piercing of a -tunnel from Èbrecourt to Corvigny. After the question had been studied -by the engineers, it was seen that this work, this '<i>kolos<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span>sal</i>' work, -was not possible and could not be effective unless possession was first -obtained of the Château d'Ornequin. As it happened, the owner of the -property was in a very bad state of health. It was decided to wait. But, -as he seemed in no hurry to die, you came to Corvigny. A week later, he -died. Murder the first."</p> - -<p>"You lie! You lie!" cried the countess. "You have no proof. I defy you -to produce a proof."</p> - -<p>Paul, without replying, continued:</p> - -<p>"The château was put up for sale and, strange to say, without the least -advertisement, secretly, so to speak. Now what happened was that the man -of business whom you had instructed bungled the matter so badly that the -château was declared sold to the Comte d'Andeville, who took up his -residence there in the following year, with his wife and his two -children. This led to anger and confusion and lastly a resolve to start -work, nevertheless, and to begin boring at the site of a little chapel -which, at that time, stood outside the walls of the park. The Emperor -came often to Èbrecourt. One day, on leaving the chapel, he was met and -recognized by my father and myself. Two minutes later, you were -accosting my father. He was stabbed and killed. I myself received a -wound. Murder the second. A month later, the Comtesse d'Andeville was -seized with a mysterious illness and went down to the south to die."</p> - -<p>"You lie!" cried the countess, again. "Those are all lies! Not a single -proof! . . ."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>"A month later," continued Paul, still speaking very calmly, "M. -d'Andeville, who had lost his wife, took so great a dislike to Ornequin -that he decided never to go back to it. Your plan was carried out at -once. Now that the château was free, it became necessary for you to -obtain a footing there. How was it done? By buying over the keeper, -Jérôme, and his wife. That wretched couple, who certainly had the excuse -that they were not Alsatians, as they pretended to be, but of Luxemburg -birth, accepted the bribe. Thenceforth you were at home, free to come to -Ornequin as and when you pleased. By your orders, Jérôme even went to -the length of keeping the death of the Comtesse Hermine, the real -Comtesse Hermine, a secret. And, as you also were a Comtesse Hermine and -as no one knew Mme. d'Andeville, who had led a secluded life, everything -went off well. Moreover, you continued to multiply your precautions. -There was one, among others, that baffled me. A portrait of the Comtesse -d'Andeville hung in the boudoir which she used to occupy. You had a -portrait painted of yourself, of the same size, so as to fit the frame -inscribed with the name of the countess; and this portrait showed you -under the same outward aspect, wearing the same clothes and ornaments. -In short, you became what you had striven to appear from the outset and -indeed during the lifetime of Mme. d'Andeville, whose dress you were -even then beginning to copy: you became the Comtesse Hermine -d'Andeville, at least during the period of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> your visits to Ornequin. -There was only one danger, the possibility of M. d'Andeville's -unexpected return. To ward this off with certainty, there was but one -remedy, murder. You therefore managed to become acquainted with M. -d'Andeville, which enabled you to watch his movements and correspond -with him. Only, something happened on which you had not reckoned. I mean -to say that a feeling which was really surprising in a woman like -yourself began gradually to attach you to the man whom you had chosen as -a victim. I have placed among the exhibits a photograph of yourself -which you sent to M. d'Andeville from Berlin. At that time, you were -hoping to induce him to marry you; but he saw through your schemes, drew -back and broke off the friendship."</p> - -<p>The countess had knitted her brows. Her lips were distorted. The -lookers-on divined all the humiliation which she had undergone and all -the bitterness which she had retained in consequence. At the same time, -she felt no shame, but rather an increasing surprise at thus seeing her -life divulged down to the least detail and her murderous past dragged -from the obscurity in which she believed it buried.</p> - -<p>"When war was declared," Paul continued, "your work was ripe. Stationed -in the Èbrecourt villa, at the entrance to the tunnel, you were ready. -My marriage to Élisabeth d'Andeville, my sudden arrival at the château, -my amazement at seeing the portrait of the woman who had killed my -father: all this was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> told you by Jérôme and took you a little by -surprise. You had hurriedly to lay a trap in which I, in my turn, was -nearly assassinated. But the mobilization rid you of my presence. You -were able to act. Three weeks later, Corvigny was bombarded, Ornequin -taken, Élisabeth a prisoner of Prince Conrad's. . . . That, for you, was -an indescribable period. It meant revenge; and also, thanks to you, it -meant the great victory, the accomplishment—or nearly so—of the great -dream, the apotheosis of the Hohenzollerns! Two days more and Paris -would be captured; two months more and Europe was conquered. The -intoxication of it! I know of words which you uttered at that time and I -have read lines written by you which bear witness to an absolute -madness: the madness of pride, the madness of boundless power, the -madness of cruelty; a barbarous madness, an impossible, superhuman -madness. . . . And then, suddenly, the rude awakening, the battle of the -Marne! Ah, I have seen your letters on this subject, too! And I know no -finer revenge. A woman of your intelligence was bound to see from the -first, as you did see, that it meant the breakdown of every hope and -certainty. You wrote that to the Emperor, yes, you wrote it! I have a -copy of your letter. . . . Meanwhile, defense became necessary. The -French troops were approaching. Through my brother-in-law, Bernard, you -learnt that I was at Corvigny. Would Élisabeth be delivered, Élisabeth -who knew all your secrets?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> No, she must die. You ordered her to be -executed. Everything was made ready. And, though she was saved, thanks -to Prince Conrad, and though, in default of her death, you had to -content yourself with a mock execution intended to cut short my -inquiries, at least she was carried off like a slave. And you had two -victims for your consolation: Jérôme and Rosalie. Your accomplices, -smitten with tearful remorse by Élisabeth's tortures, tried to escape -with her. You dreaded their evidence against you: they were shot. -Murders the third and fourth. And the next day there were two more, two -soldiers whom you had killed, taking them for Bernard and myself. -Murders the fifth and sixth."</p> - -<p>Thus was the whole drama reconstructed in all its tragic phases and in -accordance with the order of the events and murders. And it was a -horrible thing to look upon this woman, guilty of so many crimes, walled -in by destiny, trapped in this cellar, face to face with her mortal -enemies. And yet how was it that she did not appear to have lost all -hope? For such was the case; and Bernard noticed it.</p> - -<p>"Look at her," he said, going up to Paul. "She has twice already -consulted her watch. Any one would think that she was expecting a -miracle or something more, a direct, inevitable aid which is to arrive -at a definite hour. See, her eyes are glancing about. . . . She is -listening for something. . . ."</p> - -<p>"Order all the soldiers at the foot of the stairs to come in," Paul -answered. "There is no reason<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> why they should not hear what I have -still to say."</p> - -<p>And, turning towards the countess, he said, in tones which gradually -betrayed more feeling:</p> - -<p>"We are coming to the last act. All this part of the contest you -conducted under the aspect of Major Hermann, which made it easier for -you to follow the armies and play your part as chief spy. Hermann, -Hermine. . . . The Major Hermann whom, when necessary, you passed off as -your brother was yourself, Comtesse Hermine. And it was you whose -conversation I overheard with the sham Laschen, or rather Karl the spy, -in the ruins of the lighthouse on the bank of the Yser. And it was you -whom I caught and bound in the attic of the ferryman's house. Ah, what a -fine stroke you missed that day! Your three enemies lay wounded, within -reach of your hand, and you ran away without seeing them, without making -an end of them! And you knew nothing further about us, whereas we knew -all about your plans. An appointment for the 10th of January at -Èbrecourt, that ill-omened appointment which you made with Karl while -telling him of your implacable determination to do away with Élisabeth. -And I was there, punctually, on the 10th of January! I looked on at -Prince Conrad's supper-party! And I was there, after the supper, when -you handed Karl the poison. I was there, on the driver's seat of the -motor-car, when you gave Karl your last instructions. I was everywhere! -And that same evening Karl died. And the next night I kidnaped Prince -Conrad. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> the day after, that is to say, two days ago, holding so -important a hostage and thus compelling the Emperor to treat with me, I -dictated conditions of which the first was the immediate release of -Élisabeth. The Emperor gave way. And here you see us!"</p> - -<p>In all this speech, a speech which showed the Comtesse Hermine with what -implacable energy she had been hunted down, there was one word which -overwhelmed her as though it related the most terrible of catastrophes. -She stammered:</p> - -<p>"Dead? You say that Karl is dead?"</p> - -<p>"Shot down by his mistress at the moment when he was trying to kill me," -cried Paul, once again mastered by his hatred. "Shot down like a mad -dog! Yes, Karl the spy is dead; and even after his death he remained the -traitor that he had been all his life. You were asking for my proofs: I -discovered them on Karl's person! It was in his pocket-book that I read -the story of your crimes and found copies of your letters and some of -the originals as well. He foresaw that sooner or later, when your work -was accomplished, you would sacrifice him to secure your own safety; and -he revenged himself in advance. He avenged himself just as Jérôme the -keeper and his wife Rosalie revenged themselves, when about to be shot -by your orders, by revealing to Élisabeth the mysterious part which you -played at the Château d'Ornequin. So much for your accomplices! You kill -them, but they destroy you. It is no longer I who accuse you, it is -they. Your letters and their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> evidence are in the hands of your judges. -What answer have you to make?"</p> - -<p>Paul was standing almost against her. They were separated at the most by -a corner of the table; and he was threatening her with all his anger and -all his loathing. She retreated towards the wall, under a row of pegs -from which hung skirts and blouses, a whole wardrobe of various -disguises. Though surrounded, caught in a trap, confounded by an -accumulation of proofs, unmasked and helpless, she maintained an -attitude of challenge and defiance. The game did not yet seem lost. She -had some trump cards left in her hand; and she said:</p> - -<p>"I have no answer to make. You speak of a woman who has committed -murders; and I am not that woman. It is not a question of proving that -the Comtesse Hermine is a spy and a murderess: it is a question of -proving that I am the Comtesse Hermine. Who can prove that?"</p> - -<p>"<i>I</i> can!"</p> - -<p>Sitting apart from the three officers whom Paul had mentioned as -constituting the court was a fourth, who had listened as silently and -impassively as they. He stepped forward. The light of the lamp shone on -his face. The countess murmured:</p> - -<p>"Stéphane d'Andeville. . . . Stéphane. . . ."</p> - -<p>It was the father of Élisabeth and Bernard. He was very pale, weakened -by the wounds which he had received and from which he was only beginning -to recover.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span>He embraced his children. Bernard expressed his surprise and delight at -seeing him there.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said, "I had a message from the commander-in-chief and I came -the moment Paul sent for me. Your husband is a fine fellow, Élisabeth. -He told me what had happened when we met a little while ago. And I now -see all that he has done . . . to crush that viper!"</p> - -<p>He had taken up his stand opposite the countess; and his hearers felt -beforehand the full importance of the words which he was about to speak. -For a moment, she lowered her head before him. But soon her eyes once -more flashed defiance; and she said:</p> - -<p>"So you, too, have come to accuse me? What have you to say against me? -Lies, I suppose? Infamies? . . ."</p> - -<p>There was a long pause after those words. Then, speaking slowly, he -said:</p> - -<p>"I come, in the first place, as a witness to give the evidence as to -your identity for which you were asking just now. You introduced -yourself to me long ago by a name which was not your own, a name under -which you succeeded in gaining my confidence. Later, when you tried to -bring about a closer relationship between us, you revealed to me who you -really were, hoping in this way to dazzle me with your titles and your -connections. It is therefore my right and my duty to declare before God -and man that you are really and truly the Countess Hermine von -Hohenzollern. The documents which you showed me were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> genuine. And it -was just because you were the Countess von Hohenzollern that I broke off -relations which in any case were painful and disagreeable to me, for -reasons which I should have been puzzled to state. That is my evidence."</p> - -<p>"It is infamous evidence!" she cried, in a fury. "Lying evidence, as I -said it would be! Not a proof!"</p> - -<p>"Not a proof?" echoed the Comte d'Andeville, moving closer to her and -shaking with rage. "What about this photograph, signed by yourself, -which you sent me from Berlin? This photograph in which you had the -impudence to dress up like my wife? Yes, you, you! You did this thing! -You thought that, by trying to make your picture resemble that of my -poor loved one, you would rouse in my breast feelings favorable to -yourself! And you did not feel that what you were doing was the worst -insult, the worst outrage that you could offer to the dead! And you -dared, you, you, after what had happened . . ."</p> - -<p>Like Paul Delroze a few minutes before, the count was standing close -against her, threatening her with his hatred. She muttered, in a sort of -embarrassment:</p> - -<p>"Well, why not?"</p> - -<p>He clenched his fists and said:</p> - -<p>"As you say, why not? I did not know at the time what you were . . . and -I knew nothing of the tragedy . . . of the tragedy of the past. . . . It -is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> only to-day that I have been able to compare the facts. And, whereas -I repulsed you at that time with a purely instinctive repulsion, I -accuse you now with unparalleled execration . . . now when I know, yes, -know, with absolute certainty. Long ago, when my poor wife was dying, -time after time the doctor said to me, 'It's a strange illness. She has -bronchitis and pneumonia, I know; and yet there are things which I don't -understand, symptoms—why conceal it?—symptoms of poisoning.' I used to -protest. The theory seemed impossible! My wife poisoned? And by whom? By -you, Comtesse Hermine, by you! I declare it to-day. By you! I swear it, -as I hope to be saved. Proofs? Why, your whole life bears witness -against you. Listen, there is one point on which Paul Delroze failed to -shed light. He did not understand why, when you murdered his father, you -wore clothes like those of my wife. Why did you? For this hateful reason -that, even at that time, my wife's death was resolved upon and that you -already wished to create in the minds of those who might see you a -confusion between the Comtesse d'Andeville and yourself. The proof is -undeniable. My wife stood in your way: you killed her. You guessed that, -once my wife was dead, I should never come back to Ornequin; and you -killed my wife. Paul Delroze, you have spoken of six murders. This is -the seventh: the murder of the Comtesse d'Andeville."</p> - -<p>The count had raised his two clenched fists and was shaking them in the -Comtesse Hermine's face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> He was trembling with rage and seemed on the -point of striking her. She, however, remained impassive. She made no -attempt to deny this latest accusation. It was as though everything had -become indifferent to her, this unexpected charge as well as all those -already leveled at her. She appeared to have no thought of impending -danger or of the need of replying. Her mind was elsewhere. She was -listening to something other than those words, seeing something other -than what was before her eyes; and, as Bernard had remarked, it was as -though she were preoccupied with outside happenings rather than with the -terrible position in which she found herself.</p> - -<p>But why? What was she hoping for?</p> - -<p>A minute elapsed; and another minute.</p> - -<p>Then, somewhere in the cellar, in the upper part of it, there was a -sound, a sort of click.</p> - -<p>The countess drew herself up. And she listened with all her concentrated -attention and with an expression of such eagerness that nobody disturbed -the tremendous silence. Paul Delroze and M. d'Andeville had -instinctively stepped back to the table. And the Comtesse Hermine went -on listening. . . .</p> - -<p>Suddenly, above her head, in the very thickness of the vaulted ceiling, -an electric bell rang . . . only for a few seconds. . . . Four peals of -equal length. . . . And that was all.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX<br /> -<span class="smalltext">THE DEATH PENALTY—AND A CAPITAL PUNISHMENT</span></h2> - - -<p>The Comtesse Hermine started up triumphantly; and this movement of hers -was even more dramatic than the inexplicable vibration of that electric -bell. She gave a cry of fierce delight, followed by an outburst of -laughter. The whole expression of her face changed. It denoted no more -anxiety, no more of that tension indicating a groping and bewildered -mind, nothing but insolence, assurance, scorn and intense pride.</p> - -<p>"Fools!" she snarled. "Fools! So you really believed—oh, what -simpletons you Frenchmen are!—that you had me caught like a rat in a -trap? Me! Me! . . ."</p> - -<p>The words rushed forth so volubly, so hurriedly, that her utterance was -impeded. She became rigid, closing her eyes for a moment. Then, -summoning up a great effort of will, she put out her right arm, pushed -aside a chair and uncovered a little mahogany slab with a brass switch, -for which she felt with her hand while her eyes remained turned on Paul, -on the Comte d'Andeville, on his son and on the three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> officers. And, in -a dry, cutting voice, she rapped out:</p> - -<p>"What have I to fear from you now? You wish to know if I am the Countess -von Hohenzollern? Yes, I am. I don't deny it, I even proclaim the fact. -The actions which you, in your stupid way, call murders, yes, I -committed them all. It was my duty to the Emperor, to the greater -Germany. . . . A spy? Not at all. Simply a German woman. And what a -German woman does for her country is rightly done. So let us have no -more silly phrases, no more babbling about the past. Nothing matters but -the present and the future. And I am once more mistress of the present -and the future both. Thanks to you, I am resuming the direction of -events; and we shall have some amusement. . . . Shall I tell you -something? All that has happened here during the past few days was -prepared by myself. The bridges carried away by the river were sapped at -their foundations by my orders. Why? For the trivial purpose of making -you fall back? No doubt, that was necessary first: we had to announce a -victory. Victory or not, it shall be announced; and it will have its -effect, that I promise you. But I wanted something better; and I have -succeeded."</p> - -<p>She stopped and then, leaning her body towards her hearers, continued, -in a lower voice:</p> - -<p>"The retreat, the disorder among your troops, the need of opposing our -advance and bringing up reinforcements must needs compel your -commander-in-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span>chief to come here and take counsel with his generals. For -months past, I have been lying in wait for him. It was impossible for me -to get within reach of him. So what was I to do? Why, of course, as I -couldn't go to him, I must make him come to me and lure him to a place, -chosen by myself, where I had made all my arrangements. Well, he has -come. My arrangements are made. And I have only to act. . . . I have -only to act! He is here, in a room at the little villa which he occupies -whenever he comes to Soissons. He is there, I know it. I was waiting for -the signal which one of my men was to give me. You have heard the signal -yourselves. So there is no doubt about it. The man whom I want is at -this moment deliberating with his generals in a house which I know and -which I have had mined. He has with him a general commanding an army and -another general, the commander of an army corps. Both are of the ablest. -There are three of them, not to speak of their subordinates. And I have -only to make a movement, understand what I say, a single movement, I -have only to touch this lever to blow them all up, together with the -house in which they are. Am I to make that movement?"</p> - -<p>There was a sharp click. Bernard d'Andeville had cocked his revolver:</p> - -<p>"We must kill the beast!" he cried.</p> - -<p>Paul rushed at him, shouting:</p> - -<p>"Hold your tongue! And don't move a finger!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span>The countess began laughing again; and her laugh was full of wicked -glee:</p> - -<p>"You're right, Paul Delroze, my man. You take in the situation, you do. -However quickly that young booby may fire his bullet at me, I shall -always have time to pull the lever. And that's what you don't want, -isn't it? That's what these other gentlemen and you want to avoid at all -costs . . . even at the cost of my liberty, eh? For that is how the -matter stands, alas! All my fine plan is falling to pieces because I am -in your hands. But I alone am worth as much as your three great -generals, am I not? And I have every right to spare them in order to -save myself. So are we agreed? Their lives against mine! And at once! -. . . Paul Delroze, I give you one minute in which to consult your -friends. If in one minute, speaking in their name and your own, you do -not give me your word of honor that you consider me free and that I -shall receive every facility for crossing the Swiss frontier, then . . . -then heigh-ho, up we go, as the children say! . . . Oh, how I've got -you, all of you! And the humor of it! Hurry up, friend Delroze, your -word! Yes, that's all I ask. Hang it, the word of a French officer! Ha, -ha, ha, ha!"</p> - -<p>Her nervous, scornful laugh went on ringing through the dead silence. -And it happened gradually that its tone rang less surely, like words -that fail to produce the intended effect. It rang false, broke and -suddenly ceased.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span>And she stood in dumb amazement: Paul Delroze had not budged, nor had -any of the officers nor any of the soldiers in the room.</p> - -<p>She shook her fist at them:</p> - -<p>"You're to hurry, do you hear? . . . You have one minute, my French -friends, one minute and no more! . . ."</p> - -<p>Not a man moved.</p> - -<p>She counted the seconds in a low voice and announced them aloud by tens.</p> - -<p>At the fortieth second, she stopped, with an anxious look on her face. -Those present were as motionless as before. Then she yielded to a fit of -fury:</p> - -<p>"Why, you must be mad!" she cried. "Don't you understand? Oh, perhaps -you don't believe me? Yes, that's it, they don't believe me! They can't -imagine that it's possible! Possible? Why, it's your own soldiers who -worked for me! Yes, by laying telephone-lines between the post-office -and the villa used for head-quarters! My assistants had only to tap the -wires and the thing was done: the mine-chamber Under the villa was -connected with this cellar. Do you believe me now?"</p> - -<p>Her hoarse, panting voice ceased. Her misgivings, which had become more -and more marked, distorted her features. Why did none of those men move? -Why did they pay no attention to her orders? Had they taken the -incredible resolution to accept whatever happened rather than show her -mercy?</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span>"Look here," she said, "you understand me, surely? Or else you have all -gone mad! Come, think of it: your generals, the effect which their death -would cause, the tremendous impression of our power which it would give! -. . . And the confusion that would follow! The retreat of your troops! -The disorganization of the staff! . . . Come, come! . . ."</p> - -<p>It seemed as if she was trying to convince them; nay, more, as if she -was beseeching them to look at things from her point of view and to -admit the consequence which she had attributed to her action. For her -plan to succeed, it was essential that they should consent to act -logically. Otherwise . . . otherwise . . .</p> - -<p>Suddenly she seemed to recoil against the humiliating sort of -supplication to which she had been stooping. Resuming her threatening -attitude, she cried:</p> - -<p>"So much the worse for them! So much the worse for them! It will be you -who have condemned them! So you insist upon it? We are quite agreed? -. . . And then I suppose you think you've got me! Come, come now! Even -if you show yourselves pig-headed, the Comtesse Hermine has not said her -last word! You don't know the Comtesse Hermine! The Comtesse Hermine -never surrenders! . . ."</p> - -<p>She was possessed by a sort of frenzy and was horrible to look at. -Twisting and writhing with rage, hideous of face, aged by fully twenty -years, she suggested the picture of a devil burning in the flames of -hell. She cursed. She blasphemed. She gave vent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> to a string of oaths. -She even laughed, at the thought of the catastrophe which her next -movement would produce. And she spluttered:</p> - -<p>"All right! It's you, it's you who are the executioners! . . . Oh, what -folly! . . . So you will have it so? But they must be mad! Look at them, -calmly sacrificing their generals, their commander-in-chief, in their -stupid obstinacy. Well, so much the worse for them! You have insisted on -it. I hold you responsible. A word from you, a single word. . . ."</p> - -<p>She had a last moment of hesitation. With a fierce and unyielding face -she stared at those stubborn men who seemed to be obeying an implacable -command. Not one of them budged.</p> - -<p>Then it seemed as if, at the moment of taking the fatal decision, she -was overcome with such an outburst of voluptuous wickedness that it made -her forget the horror of her own position. She simply said:</p> - -<p>"May God's will be done and my Emperor gain the victory!"</p> - -<p>Stiffening her body, her eyes staring before her, she touched the switch -with her finger.</p> - -<p>The effect was almost immediate. Through the outer air, through the -vaulted roof, the sound of the explosion reached the cellar. The ground -seemed to shake, as though the vibration had spread through the bowels -of the earth.</p> - -<p>Then came silence. The Comtesse Hermine listened for a few seconds -longer. Her face was radiant with joy. She repeated:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span>"So that my Emperor may gain the victory!"</p> - -<p>And suddenly, bringing her arm down to her side, she thrust herself -backwards, among the skirts and blouses against which she was leaning, -and seemed actually to sink into the wall and disappear from sight.</p> - -<p>A heavy door closed with a bang and, almost at the same moment, a shot -rang through the cellar. Bernard had fired at the row of clothes. And he -was rushing towards the hidden door when Paul collared him and held him -where he stood.</p> - -<p>Bernard struggled in Paul's grasp:</p> - -<p>"But she's escaping us! . . . Why can't you let me go after her? . . . -Look here, surely you remember the Èbrecourt tunnel and the system of -electric wires? This is the same thing exactly! And here she is getting -away! . . ."</p> - -<p>He could not understand Paul's conduct. And his sister was as indignant -as himself. Here was the foul creature who had killed their mother, who -had stolen their mother's name and place; and they were allowing her to -escape.</p> - -<p>"Paul," she cried, "Paul, you must go after her, you must make an end of -her! . . . Paul, you can't forget all that she has done!"</p> - -<p>Élisabeth did not forget. She remembered the Château d'Ornequin and -Prince Conrad's villa and the evening when she had been compelled to -toss down a bumper of champagne and the bargain en<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span>forced upon her and -all the shame and torture to which she had been put.</p> - -<p>But Paul paid no attention to either the brother or the sister, nor did -the officers and soldiers. All observed the same rigidly impassive -attitude, seemed unaffected by what was happening.</p> - -<p>Two or three minutes passed, during which a few words were exchanged in -whispers, while not a soul stirred. Broken down and shattered with -excitement, Élisabeth wept. Bernard's flesh crept at the sound of his -sister's sobs and he felt as if he was suffering from one of those -nightmares in which we witness the most horrible sights without having -the strength or the power to act.</p> - -<p>And then something happened which everybody except Bernard and Élisabeth -seemed to think quite natural. There was a grating sound behind the row -of clothes. The invisible door moved on its hinges. The clothes parted -and made way for a human form which was flung on the ground like a -bundle.</p> - -<p>Bernard d'Andeville uttered an exclamation of delight. Élisabeth looked -and laughed through her tears. It was the Comtesse Hermine, bound and -gagged.</p> - -<p>Three gendarmes entered after her:</p> - -<p>"We've delivered the goods, sir," one of them jested, with a fat, jolly -chuckle. "We were beginning to get a bit nervous and to wonder if you'd -guessed right and if this was really the way she meant to clear out by. -But, by Jove, sir, the bag<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span>gage gave us some work to do. A proper -hell-cat! She struggled and bit like a badger. And the way she yelled! -Oh, the vixen!" And, to the soldiers, who were in fits of laughter, -"Mates, this bit of game was just what we wanted to finish off our day's -hunting. It's a grand bag; and Lieutenant Delroze scented the trail -finely. There's a picture for you! A whole gang of Boches in one day! -. . . Look out, sir, what are you doing? Mind the beast's fangs!"</p> - -<p>Paul was stooping over the spy. He loosened her gag, which seemed to be -hurting her. She at once tried to call out, but succeeded only in -uttering stifled and incoherent syllables. Nevertheless, Paul was able -to make out a few words, against which he protested:</p> - -<p>"No," he said, "not even that to console you. The game is lost. And -that's the worst punishment of all, isn't it? To die without having done -the harm you meant to do. And such harm, too!"</p> - -<p>He rose and went up to the group of officers. The three, having -fulfilled their functions as judges, were talking together; and one of -them said to Paul:</p> - -<p>"Well played, Delroze. My best congratulations."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, sir. I would have prevented this attempt to escape. But I -wanted to heap up every possible proof against the woman and not only to -accuse her of the crimes which she has committed, but to show her to you -in the act of committing crime."</p> - -<p>"Ay; and there's nothing half-hearted about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> vixen! But for you, -Delroze, the villa would have been blown up with all my staff and myself -into the bargain! . . . But what was the explosion which we heard?"</p> - -<p>"A condemned building, sir, which had already been demolished by the -shells and which the commandant of the fortress wanted to get rid of. We -only had to divert the electric wire which starts from here."</p> - -<p>"So the whole gang is captured?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, thanks to a spy whom I had the luck to lay my hands on just -now and who told me what I had to do in order to get in here. He had -first revealed the Comtesse Hermine's plan in full detail, together with -the names of all his accomplices. It was arranged that the man was to -let the countess know, at ten o'clock this evening, by means of that -electric bell, if you were holding a council in your villa. The notice -was given, but by one of our own soldiers, acting under my orders."</p> - -<p>"Well done; and, once more, thank you, Delroze."</p> - -<p>The general stepped into the circle of light. He was tall and powerfully -built. His upper lip was covered with a thick white mustache.</p> - -<p>There was a movement of surprise among those present. Bernard -d'Andeville and his sister came forward. The soldiers stood to -attention. They had recognized the general commanding-in-chief. With him -were the two generals of whom the countess had spoken.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span>The gendarmes had pushed the spy against the wall opposite. They untied -her legs, but had to support her, because her knees were giving way -beneath her.</p> - -<p>And her face expressed unspeakable amazement even more than terror. With -wide-open eyes she stared at the man whom she had meant to kill, the man -whom she believed to be dead and who was alive and who would shortly -pronounce the inevitable sentence of death upon her.</p> - -<p>Paul repeated:</p> - -<p>"To die without having done the harm you intended to do, that is the -really terrible thing, is it not?"</p> - -<p>The commander-in-chief was alive! The hideous and tremendous plot had -failed! He was alive and so were his officers and so was every one of -the spy's enemies. Paul Delroze, Stéphane d'Andeville, Bernard, -Élisabeth, those whom she had pursued with her indefatigable hatred: -they were all there! She was about to die gazing at the vision, so -horrible for her, of her enemies reunited and happy.</p> - -<p>And above all she was about to die with the thought that everything was -lost. Her great dream was shattered to pieces. Her Emperor's throne was -tottering. The very soul of the Hohenzollerns was departing with the -Comtesse Hermine. And all this was plainly visible in her haggard eyes, -from which gleams of madness flashed at intervals.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span>The general said to one of those with him:</p> - -<p>"Have you given the order? Are they shooting the lot?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, this evening, sir."</p> - -<p>"Very well, we'll begin with this woman. And at once. Here, where we -are."</p> - -<p>The spy gave a start. With a distortion of all her features she -succeeded in shifting her gag; and they heard her beseeching for mercy -in a torrent of words and moans.</p> - -<p>"Let us go," said the commander-in-chief.</p> - -<p>He felt two burning hands press his own. Élisabeth was leaning towards -him and entreating him with tears.</p> - -<p>Paul introduced his wife. The general said, gently:</p> - -<p>"I see that you feel pity, madame, in spite of all that you have gone -through. But you must have no pity, madame. Of course it is the pity -which we cannot help feeling for those about to die. But we must have no -pity for these people or for members of their race. They have placed -themselves beyond the pale of mankind; and we must never forget it. When -you are a mother, madame, you will teach your children a feeling to -which France was a stranger and which will prove a safeguard in the -future: hatred of the Huns."</p> - -<p>He took her by the arm in a friendly fashion and led her towards the -door:</p> - -<p>"Allow me to see you out. Are you coming, Del<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span>roze? You must need rest -after such a day's work."</p> - -<p>They went out.</p> - -<p>The spy was shrieking:</p> - -<p>"Mercy! Mercy!"</p> - -<p>The soldiers were already drawn up in line along the opposite wall.</p> - -<p>The count, Paul and Bernard waited for a moment. She had killed the -Comte d'Andeville's wife. She had killed Bernard's mother and Paul's -father. She had tortured Élisabeth. And, though their minds were -troubled, they felt the great calm which the sense of justice gives. No -hatred stirred them. No thought of vengeance excited them.</p> - -<p>The gendarmes had fastened the spy by the waistband to a nail in the -wall, to hold her up. They now stood aside.</p> - -<p>Paul said to her:</p> - -<p>"One of the soldiers here is a priest. If you need his assistance. -. . ."</p> - -<p>But she did not understand. She did not listen. She merely saw what was -happening and what was about to happen; and she stammered without -ceasing:</p> - -<p>"Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . ."</p> - -<p>They went out. When they came to the top of the staircase, a word of -command reached their ears:</p> - -<p>"Present! . . ."</p> - -<p>Lest he should hear more, Paul slammed the inner and outer hall-doors -behind him.</p> - -<p>Outside was the open air, the good pure air with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> which men love to fill -their lungs. Troops were marching along, singing as they went. Paul and -Bernard learnt that the battle was over and our positions definitely -assured. Here also the Comtesse Hermine had failed. . . .</p> - -<hr class="thin" /> - -<p>A few days later, at the Château d'Ornequin, Second Lieutenant Bernard -d'Andeville, accompanied by twelve men, entered the casemate, -well-warmed and well-ventilated, which served as a prison for Prince -Conrad.</p> - -<p>On the table were some bottles and the remains of an ample repast. The -prince lay sleeping on a bed against the wall. Bernard tapped him on the -shoulder:</p> - -<p>"Courage, sir."</p> - -<p>The prisoner sprang up, terrified:</p> - -<p>"Eh? What's that?"</p> - -<p>"I said, courage, sir. The hour has come."</p> - -<p>Pale as death, the prince stammered:</p> - -<p>"Courage? . . . Courage? . . . I don't understand. . . . Oh Lord, oh -Lord, is it possible?"</p> - -<p>"Everything is always possible," said Bernard, "and what has to happen -always happens, especially calamities." And he suggested, "A glass of -rum, sir, to pull you together? A cigarette?"</p> - -<p>"Oh Lord, oh Lord!" the prince repeated, trembling like a leaf.</p> - -<p>Mechanically he took the cigarette offered him. But it fell from his -lips after the first few puffs.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span>"Oh Lord, oh Lord!" he never ceased stammering.</p> - -<p>And his distress increased when he saw the twelve men waiting, with -their rifles at rest. He wore the distraught look of the condemned man -who beholds the outline of the guillotine in the pale light of the dawn. -They had to carry him to the terrace, in front of a strip of broken -wall.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, sir," said Bernard.</p> - -<p>Even without this invitation, the wretched man would have been incapable -of standing on his feet. He sank upon a stone.</p> - -<p>The twelve soldiers took up their position facing him. He bent his head -so as not to see; and his whole body jerked like that of a dancing doll -when you pull its strings.</p> - -<p>A moment passed; and Bernard asked, in a kind and friendly tone:</p> - -<p>"Would you rather have it front or back?"</p> - -<p>The prince, utterly overwhelmed, did not reply; and Bernard exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid you're not very well, sir. Come, your royal highness must -pull yourself together. You have lots of time. Lieutenant Delroze won't -be here for another ten minutes. He was very keen on being present at -this—how shall I put it?—at this little ceremony. And really he will -be disappointed in your appearance. You're green in the face, sir."</p> - -<p>Still displaying the greatest interest and as though seeking to divert -the prince's thoughts, he said:</p> - -<p>"What can I tell you, sir, by way of news? You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> know that your friend -the Comtesse Hermine is dead, I suppose? Ha, ha, that makes you prick up -your ears, I see! It's quite true: that good and great woman was -executed the other day at Soissons. And, upon my word, she cut just as -poor a figure as you are doing now, sir. They had to hold her up. And -the way she yelled and screamed for mercy! There was no pose about her, -no dignity. But I can see that your thoughts are straying. Bother! What -can I do to cheer you up? Ah, I have an idea! . . ."</p> - -<p>He took a little paper-bound book from his pocket:</p> - -<p>"Look here, sir, I'll read to you. Of course, a Bible would be more -appropriate; only I haven't one on me. And the great thing, after all, -is to help you to forget; and I know nothing better for a German who -prides himself on his country and his army than this little book. We'll -dip into it together, shall we? It's called <i>German Crimes as Related by -German Eye-witnesses</i>. It consists of extracts from the diaries of your -fellow-countrymen. It is therefore one of those irrefutable documents -which earn the respect of German science. I'll open it at random. Here -goes. 'The inhabitants fled from the village. It was a horrible sight. -All the houses were plastered with blood; and the faces of the dead were -hideous to see. We buried them all at once; there were sixty of them, -including a number of old women, some old men, a woman about to become a -mother, and three children who had pressed themselves against one -another and who died like that. All the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> survivors were turned out; and -I saw four little boys carrying on two sticks a cradle with a child of -five or six months in it. The whole village was sacked. And I also saw a -mother with two babies and one of them had a great wound in the head and -had lost an eye.'"</p> - -<p>Bernard stopped to address the prince:</p> - -<p>"Interesting reading, is it not, sir?"</p> - -<p>And he went on:</p> - -<p>"'<i>26 August.</i> The charming village of Gué d'Hossus, in the Ardennes, -has been burnt to the ground, though quite innocent, as it seems to me. -They tell me that a cyclist fell from his machine and that the fall made -his rifle go off of its own accord, so they fired in his direction. -After that, they simply threw the male inhabitants into the flames.' -Here's another bit: '<i>25 August.</i>' This was in Belgium. 'We have shot -three hundred of the inhabitants of the town. Those who survived the -volleys were told off to bury the rest. You should have seen the women's -faces!'"</p> - -<p>And the reading continued, interrupted by judicious reflections which -Bernard emitted in a placid voice, as though he were commenting on an -historical work. Prince Conrad, meanwhile, seemed on the verge of -fainting.</p> - -<p>When Paul arrived at the Château d'Ornequin and, alighting from his car, -went to the terrace, the sight of the prince and the careful -stage-setting with the twelve soldiers told him of the rather uncanny -little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> comedy which Bernard was playing. He uttered a reproachful -protest:</p> - -<p>"I say! Bernard!"</p> - -<p>The young man exclaimed, in an innocent voice:</p> - -<p>"Ah, Paul, so you've come? Quick! His royal highness and I were waiting -for you. We shall be able to finish off this job at last!"</p> - -<p>He went and stood in front of his men at ten paces from the prince:</p> - -<p>"Are you ready, sir? Ah, I see you prefer it front way! . . . Very well, -though I can't say that you're very attractive seen from the front. -However. . . . Oh, but look here, this will never do! Don't bend your -legs like that, I beg of you. Hold yourself up, do! And please look -pleasant. Now then; keep your eyes on my cap. . . . I'm counting: one -. . . two . . . Look pleasant, can't you?"</p> - -<p>He had lowered his head and was holding a pocket camera against his -chest. Presently he squeezed the bulb, the camera clicked and Bernard -exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"There! I've got you! Sir, I don't know how to thank you. You have been -<i>so</i> kind, <i>so</i> patient. The smile was a little forced perhaps, like the -smile of a man on his way to the gallows, and the eyes were like the -eyes of a corpse. Otherwise the expression was quite charming. A -thousand thanks."</p> - -<p>Paul could not help laughing. Prince Conrad had not fully grasped the -joke. However, he felt that the danger was past and he was now trying to -put a good face on things, like a gentleman accustomed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> to bear any sort -of misfortune with dignified contempt.</p> - -<p>Paul said:</p> - -<p>"You are free, sir. I have an appointment with one of the Emperor's -aides-de-camp on the frontier at three o'clock to-day. He is bringing -twenty French prisoners and I am to hand your royal highness over to him -in exchange. Pray, step into the car."</p> - -<p>Prince Conrad obviously did not grasp a word of what Paul was saying. -The appointment on the frontier, the twenty prisoners and the rest were -just so many phrases which failed to make any impression on his -bewildered brain. But, when he had taken his seat and when the motor-car -drove slowly round the lawn, he saw something that completed his -discomfiture. Élisabeth stood on the grass and made him a smiling -curtsey.</p> - -<p>It was an obvious hallucination. He rubbed his eyes with a flabbergasted -air which so clearly indicated what was in his mind that Bernard said:</p> - -<p>"Make no mistake, sir. It's my sister all right. Yes, Paul Delroze and I -thought we had better go and fetch her in Germany. So we turned up our -Baedeker, asked for an interview with the Emperor and it was His Majesty -himself who, with his usual good grace. . . . Oh, by the way, sir, you -must expect to receive a wigging from the governor! His Majesty is -simply furious with you. Such a scandal,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> you know! Behaving like a -rotter, you know! You're in for a bad time, sir!"</p> - -<p>The exchange took place at the hour named. The twenty prisoners were -handed over. Paul Delroze took the aide-de-camp aside:</p> - -<p>"Sir," he said, "you will please tell the Emperor that the Comtesse -Hermine von Hohenzollern made an attempt to assassinate the -commander-in-chief. She was arrested by me, tried by court-martial and -sentenced and has been shot by the commander-in-chief's orders. I am in -possession of a certain number of her papers, especially private letters -to which I have no doubt that the Emperor himself attaches the greatest -importance. They will be returned to His Majesty on the day when the -Château d'Ornequin recovers all its furniture, pictures and other -valuables. I wish you good-day, sir."</p> - -<p>It was over. Paul had won all along the line. He had delivered Élisabeth -and revenged his father's death. He had destroyed the head of the German -secret service and, by insisting on the release of the twenty French -prisoners, kept all the promises which he had made to the general -commanding-in-chief. He had every right to be proud of his work.</p> - -<p>On the way back, Bernard asked:</p> - -<p>"So I shocked you just now?"</p> - -<p>"You more than shocked me," said Paul, laughing. "You made me feel -indignant."</p> - -<p>"Indignant! Really? Indignant, quotha! Here's a young bounder who tries -to take your wife from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> you and who is let off with a few days' solitary -confinement! Here's one of the leaders of those highwaymen who go about -committing murder and pillage; and he goes home free to start pillaging -and murdering again! Why, it's absurd! Just think: all those scoundrels -who wanted war—emperors and princes and emperors' and princes' -wives—know nothing of war but its pomp and its tragic beauty and -absolutely nothing of the agony that falls upon humbler people! They -suffer morally in the dread of the punishment that awaits them, but not -physically, in their flesh and in the flesh of their flesh. The others -die. They go on living. And, when I have this unparalleled opportunity -of getting hold of one of them, when I might take revenge on him and his -confederates and shoot him in cold blood, as they shoot our sisters and -our wives, you think it out of the way that I should put the fear of -death into him for just ten minutes! Why, if I had listened to sound -human and logical justice, I ought to have visited him with some -trifling torture which he would never have forgotten, such as cutting -off one of the ears or the tip of his nose!"</p> - -<p>"You're perfectly right," said Paul.</p> - -<p>"There, you see, you agree with me! I should have cut off the tip of his -nose! What a fool I was not to do it, instead of resting content with -giving him a wretched lesson which he will have forgotten by to-morrow! -What an ass I am! However, my one consolation is that I have taken a -photo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span>graph which will constitute a priceless document: the face of a -Hohenzollern in the presence of death. Oh, I ask you, did you see his -face? . . ."</p> - -<p>The car was passing through Ornequin village. It was deserted. The Huns -had burnt down every house and taken away all the inhabitants, driving -them before them like troops of slaves.</p> - -<p>But they saw, seated amid the ruins, a man in rags. He was an old man. -He stared at them foolishly, with a madman's eyes. Beside him a child -was holding forth its arms, poor little arms from which the hands were -gone. . . .</p> - - -<p class="center newchapter">THE END</p> - -<hr class="wide" /> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the -original edition have been corrected.</p> - -<p>In the Table of Contents, "Elisabeth's Diary" was changed to -"Élisabeth's Diary".</p> - -<p>In Chapter I, "was standin on the pavement" was changed to "was standing -on the pavement".</p> - -<p>In Chapter II, "The estate surrounded by farms and fields" was changed -to "The estate, surrounded by farms and fields", and "Élisazeth suddenly -gripped her husband's arm" was changed to "Élisabeth suddenly gripped -her husband's arm".</p> - -<p>In Chapter III, a quotation marks were added after "Confess it, you've -made a mistake" and "the wretched, monstrous woman", and "a regular, -montononous, uninterrupted ringing" was changed to "a regular, -monotonous, uninterrupted ringing".</p> - -<p>In Chapter IV, "<i>That's a queer fellow</i>, said he colonel" was changed to -"<i>That's a queer fellow</i>, said the colonel", and "care of M. -D'Andeville" was changed to "care of M. d'Andeville".</p> - -<p>In Chapter V, "but got no farther" was changed to "but go no farther".</p> - -<p>In Chapter VI, "echoed Paul, is alarm" was changed to "echoed Paul, in -alarm", "ought to be cheerful. . ." was changed to "ought to be -cheerful. . . .", and "rather a serious of explosions" was changed to -"rather a series of explosions".</p> - -<p>In Chapter VII, a missing period was added after "at a man's height".</p> - -<p>In Chapter XIII, a single quote (') was changed to a double quote (") -after "You're sure of holding out, aren't you?", "essential imporance" -was changed to "essential importance", and a quotation mark was added -after "Is it really you? . . ."</p> - -<p>In Chapter XVI, "He'll go with you like a limb" was changed to "He'll go -with you like a lamb".</p> - -<p>In Chapter XVII, a single quote (') was changed to a double quote (") -after "A damnable lie!"</p> - -<p>In Chapter XVIII, "his recest victory over the Emperor" was changed to -"his recent victory over the Emperor", and "I shall take a rest till -them" was changed to "I shall take a rest till then".</p> - -<p>In Chapter XIX, "I have found one of your occomplices" was changed to "I -have found one of your accomplices", a quotation mark was added after -"went down to the south to die", and "telling him of your inplacable -determination" was changed to "telling him of your implacable -determination".</p></div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Woman of Mystery, by Maurice Leblanc - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY *** - -***** This file should be named 34931-h.htm or 34931-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/9/3/34931/ - -Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Woman of Mystery - -Author: Maurice Leblanc - -Illustrator: Albert Matzke - -Release Date: January 13, 2011 [EBook #34931] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY *** - - - - -Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -[Illustration: Unmasked and helpless, she maintained an attitude of -challenge and defiance] - - - - -THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY - -BY MAURICE LEBLANC - -AUTHOR OF "CONFESSIONS OF ARSENE LUPIN," -"THE TEETH OF THE TIGER," ETC. - -NEW YORK -THE MACAULAY COMPANY - -COPYRIGHT, 1916. - -BY THE MACAULAY COMPANY - - - - - -CONTENTS - -CHAPTER PAGE -I. THE MURDER 9 -II. THE LOCKED ROOM 23 -III. THE CALL TO ARMS 39 -IV. A LETTER FROM ELISABETH 59 -V. THE PEASANT-WOMAN AT CORVIGNY 77 -VI. WHAT PAUL SAW AT ORNEQUIN 94 -VII. H. E. R. M. 108 -VIII. ELISABETH'S DIARY 126 -IX. A SPRIG OF EMPIRE 141 -X. 75 OR 155? 156 -XI. "YSERY, MISERY" 167 -XII. MAJOR HERMANN 182 -XIII. THE FERRYMAN'S HOUSE 198 -XIV. A MASTERPIECE OF KULTUR 220 -XV. PRINCE CONRAD MAKES MERRY 236 -XVI. THE IMPOSSIBLE STRUGGLE 258 -XVII. THE LAW OF THE CONQUEROR 277 -XVIII. HILL 132 292 -XIX. HOHENZOLLERN 310 -XX. THE DEATH PENALTY--AND A CAPITAL PUNISHMENT 330 - - - - -THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY - - -CHAPTER I - -THE MURDER - - -"Suppose I were to tell you," said Paul Delroze, "that I once stood face -to face with him on French. . . ." - -Elisabeth looked up at him with the fond expression of a bride to whom -the least word of the man she loves is a subject of wonder: - -"You have seen William II. in France?" - -"Saw him with my own eyes; and I have never forgotten a single one of -the details that marked the meeting. And yet it happened very long ago." - -He was speaking with a sudden seriousness, as though the revival of that -memory had awakened the most painful thoughts in his mind. - -"Tell me about it, won't you, Paul?" asked Elisabeth. - -"Yes, I will," he said. "In any case, though I was only a child at the -time, the incident played so tragic a part in my life that I am bound -to tell you the whole story." - -The train stopped and they got out at Corvigny, the last station on the -local branch line which, starting from the chief town in the department, -runs through the Liseron Valley and ends, fifteen miles from the -frontier, at the foot of the little Lorraine city which Vauban, as he -tells us in his "Memoirs," surrounded "with the most perfect demilunes -imaginable." - -The railway-station presented an appearance of unusual animation. There -were numbers of soldiers, including many officers. A crowd of -passengers--tradespeople, peasants, workmen and visitors to the -neighboring health-resorts served by Corvigny--stood amid piles of -luggage on the platform, awaiting the departure of the next train for -the junction. - -It was the last Thursday in July, the Thursday before the mobilization -of the French army. - -Elisabeth pressed up against her husband: - -"Oh, Paul," she said, shivering with anxiety, "if only we don't have -war!" - -"War! What an idea!" - -"But look at all these people leaving, all these families running away -from the frontier!" - -"That proves nothing." - -"No, but you saw it in the paper just now. The news is very bad. Germany -is preparing for war. She has planned the whole thing. . . . Oh, Paul, -if we were to be separated! . . . I should know nothing about you . . . -and you might be wounded . . . and . . ." - -He squeezed her hand: - -"Don't be afraid, Elisabeth. Nothing of the kind will happen. There -can't be war unless somebody declares it. And who would be fool enough, -criminal enough, to do anything so abominable?" - -"I am not afraid," she said, "and I am sure that I should be very brave -if you had to go. Only . . . only it would be worse for us than for -anybody else. Just think, darling: we were only married this morning!" - -At this reference to their wedding of a few hours ago, containing so -great a promise of deep and lasting joy, her charming face lit up, under -its halo of golden curls, with a smile of utter trustfulness; and she -whispered: - -"Married this morning, Paul! . . . So you can understand that my load of -happiness is not yet very heavy." - -There was a movement among the crowd. Everybody gathered around the -exit. A general officer, accompanied by two aides-de-camp, stepped out -into the station-yard, where a motor-car stood waiting for him. The -strains were heard of a military band; a battalion of light infantry -marched down the road. Next came a team of sixteen horses, driven by -artillery-men and dragging an enormous siege-piece which, in spite of -the weight of its carriage, looked light, because of the extreme length -of the gun. A herd of bullocks followed. - -Paul, who was unable to find a porter, was standing on the pavement, -carrying the two traveling-bags, when a man in leather gaiters, green -velveteen breeches and a shooting-jacket with horn buttons, came up to -him and raised his cap: - -"M. Paul Delroze?" he said. "I am the keeper at the chateau." - -He had a powerful, open face, a skin hardened by exposure to the sun and -the cold, hair that was already turning gray and that rather uncouth -manner often displayed by old servants whose place allows them a certain -degree of independence. For seventeen years he had lived on the great -estate of Ornequin, above Corvigny, and managed it for Elisabeth's -father, the Comte d'Andeville. - -"Ah, so you're Jerome?" cried Paul. "Good! I see you had the Comte -d'Andeville's letter. Have our servants come?" - -"They arrived this morning, sir, the three of them; and they have been -helping my wife and me to tidy up the house and make it ready to receive -the master and the mistress." - -He took off his cap again to Elisabeth, who said: - -"Then you remember me, Jerome? It is so long since I was here!" - -"Mlle. Elisabeth was four years old then. It was a real sorrow for my -wife and me when we heard that you would not come back to the house -. . . nor Monsieur le Comte either, because of his poor dead wife. So -Monsieur le Comte does not mean to pay us a little visit this year?" - -"No, Jerome, I don't think so. Though it is so many years ago, my father -is still very unhappy." - -Jerome took the bags and placed them in a fly which he had ordered at -Corvigny. The heavy luggage was to follow in the farm-cart. - -It was a fine day and Paul told them to lower the hood. Then he and his -wife took their seats. - -"It's not a very long drive," said the keeper. "Under ten miles. But -it's up-hill all the way." - -"Is the house more or less fit to live in?" asked Paul. - -"Well, it's not like a house that has been lived in; but you'll see for -yourself, sir. We've done the best we could. My wife is so pleased that -you and the mistress are coming! You'll find her waiting for her at the -foot of the steps. I told her that you would be there between half-past -six and seven. . . ." - -The fly drove off. - -"He seems a decent sort of man," said Paul to Elisabeth, "but he can't -have much opportunity for talking. He's making up for lost time." - -The street climbed the steep slope of the Corvigny hills and -constituted, between two rows of shops, hotels and public buildings, the -main artery of the town, blocked on this day with unaccustomed traffic. -Then it dipped and skirted Vauban's ancient bastions. Next came a -switchback road across a plain commanded on the right and left by the -two forts known as the Petit and the Grand Jonas. - -As they drove along this winding road, which meandered through fields of -oats and wheat beneath the leafy vault formed overhead by the -close-ranked poplars, Paul Delroze came back to the episode of his -childhood which he had promised to tell to Elisabeth: - -"As I said, Elisabeth, the incident is connected with a terrible -tragedy, so closely connected that the two form only one episode in my -memory. The tragedy was much talked about at the time; and your father, -who was a friend of my father's, as you know, heard of it through the -newspapers. The reason why he did not mention it to you was that I asked -him not to, because I wanted to be the first to tell you of events . . . -so painful to myself." - -Their hands met and clasped. He knew that every one of his words would -find a ready listener; and, after a brief pause, he continued: - -"My father was one of those men who compel the sympathy and even the -affection of all who know them. He had a generous, enthusiastic, -attractive nature and an unfailing good-humor, took a passionate -interest in any fine cause and any fine spectacle, loved life and -enjoyed it with a sort of precipitate haste. He enlisted in 1870 as a -volunteer, earned his lieutenant's commission on the battlefield and -found the soldier's heroic existence so well suited to his tastes that -he volunteered a second time for Tonkin, and a third to take part in -the conquest of Madagascar. . . . On his return from this campaign, in -which he was promoted to captain and received the Legion of Honor, he -married. Six years later he was a widower." - -"You were like me, Paul," said Elisabeth. "You hardly enjoyed the -happiness of knowing your mother." - -"No, for I was only four years old. But my father, who felt my mother's -death most cruelly, bestowed all his affection upon me. He made a point -of personally giving me my early education. He left nothing undone to -perfect my physical training and to make a strong and plucky lad of me. -I loved him with all my heart. To this day I cannot think of him without -genuine emotion. . . . When I was eleven years old, I accompanied him on -a journey through France, which he had put off for years because he -wanted me to take it with him at an age when I could understand its full -meaning. It was a pilgrimage to the identical places and along the roads -where he had fought during the terrible year." - -"Did your father believe in the possibility of another war?" - -"Yes; and he wanted to prepare me for it. 'Paul,' he said, 'I have no -doubt that one day you will be facing the same enemy whom I fought -against. From this moment pay no attention to any fine words of peace -that you may hear, but hate that enemy with all the hatred of which you -are capable. Whatever people may say, he is a barbarian, a -vain-glorious, bloodthirsty brute, a beast of prey. He crushed us once -and he will not rest content until he has crushed us again and, this -time, for good. When that day comes, Paul, remember all the journeys -which we have made together. Those which you will take will mark so many -triumphant stages, I am sure of it. But never forget the names of these -places, Paul; never let your joy in victory wipe out their names of -sorrow and humiliation: Froeschwiller, Mars-la-Tour, Saint-Privat and -the rest. Mind, Paul, and remember!' And he then smiled. 'But why should -I trouble? He himself, the enemy, will make it his business to arouse -hatred in the hearts of those who have forgotten and those who have not -seen. Can he change? Not he! You'll see, Paul, you'll see. Nothing that -I can say to you will equal the terrible reality. They are monsters.'" - -Paul Delroze ceased. His wife asked him a little timidly: - -"Do you think your father was absolutely right?" - -"He may have been influenced by cruel recollections that were too recent -in his memory. I have traveled a good deal in Germany, I have even lived -there, and I believe that the state of men's minds has altered. I -confess, therefore, that I sometimes find a difficulty in understanding -my father's words. And yet . . . and yet they very often disturb me. And -then what happened afterwards is so inexplicable." - -The carriage had slackened its pace. The road was rising slowly towards -the hills that overhang the Liseron Valley. The sun was setting in the -direction of Corvigny. They passed a diligence, laden with trunks, and -two motor cars crowded with passengers and luggage. A picket of cavalry -galloped across the fields. - -"Let's get out and walk," said Paul Delroze. - -They followed the carriage on foot; and Paul continued: - -"The rest of what I have to tell you, Elisabeth, stands out in my memory -in very precise details, that seem to emerge as though from a thick fog -in which I cannot see a thing. For instance, I just know that, after -this part of our journey, we were to go from Strasburg to the Black -Forest. Why our plans were changed I cannot tell. . . . I can see myself -one morning in the station at Strasburg, stepping into the train for the -Vosges . . . yes, for the Vosges. . . . My father kept on reading a -letter which he had just received and which seemed to gratify him. The -letter may have affected his arrangements; I don't know. We lunched in -the train. There was a storm brewing, it was very hot and I fell asleep, -so that all I can remember is a little German town where we hired two -bicycles and left our bags in the cloak-room. It's all very vague in my -mind. We rode across the country." - -"But don't you remember what the country was like?" - -"No, all I know is that suddenly my father said: 'There, Paul, we're -crossing the frontier; we're in France now.' Later on--I can't say how -long after--he stopped to ask his road of a peasant, who showed him a -short-cut through the woods. But the road and the short-cut are nothing -more in my mind than an impenetrable darkness in which my thoughts are -buried. . . . Then, all of a sudden, the darkness is rent and I see, -with astonishing plainness, a glade in the wood, tall trees, velvety -moss and an old chapel. And the rain falls in great, thick drops, and my -father says, 'Let's take shelter, Paul.' Oh, how I remember the sound of -his voice and how exactly I picture the little chapel, with its walls -green with damp! We went and put our bicycles under shelter at the back, -where the roof projected a little way beyond the choir. Just then the -sound of a conversation reached us from the inside and we heard the -grating of a door that opened round the corner. Some one came out and -said, in German, 'There's no one here. Let us make haste.' At that -moment we were coming round the chapel, intending to go in by this side -door; and it so happened that my father, who was leading the way, -suddenly found himself in the presence of the man who had spoken in -German. Both of them stepped back, the stranger apparently very much -annoyed and my father astounded at the unexpected meeting. For a second -or two, perhaps, they stood looking at each other without moving. I -heard my father say, under his breath, 'Is it possible? The Emperor?' -And I myself, surprised as I was at the words, had not a doubt of it, -for I had often seen the Kaiser's portrait; the man in front of us was -the German Emperor." - -"The German Emperor?" echoed Elisabeth. "You can't mean that!" - -"Yes, the Emperor in France! He quickly lowered his head and turned the -velvet collar of his great, flowing cape right up to the brim of his -hat, which was pulled down over his eyes. He looked towards the chapel. -A lady came out, followed by a man whom I hardly saw, a sort of servant. -The lady was tall, a young woman still, dark and rather good-looking. -. . . The Emperor seized her arm with absolute violence and dragged her -away, uttering angry words which we were unable to hear. They took the -road by which we had come, the road leading to the frontier. The servant -had hurried into the woods and was walking on ahead. 'This really is a -queer adventure,' said my father, laughing. 'What on earth is William -doing here? Taking the risk in broad daylight, too! I wonder if the -chapel possesses some artistic interest. Come and see, Paul.' . . . We -went in. A dim light made its way through a window black with dust and -cobwebs. But this dim light was enough to show us some stunted pillars -and bare walls and not a thing that seemed to deserve the honor of an -imperial visit, as my father put it, adding, 'It's quite clear that -William came here as a tripper, at hazard, and that he is very cross at -having his escapade discovered. I expect the lady who was with him told -him that he was running no danger. That would account for his irritation -and his reproaches.'" - -Paul broke off again. Elisabeth nestled up against him timidly. -Presently he continued: - -"It's curious, isn't it, Elisabeth, that all these little details, which -really were comparatively unimportant for a boy of my age, should have -been recorded faithfully in my mind, whereas so many other and much more -essential facts have left no trace at all. However, I am telling you all -this just as if I still had it before my eyes and as if the words were -still sounding in my ears. And at this very moment I can see, as plainly -as I saw her at the moment when we left the chapel, the Emperor's -companion coming back and crossing the glade with a hurried step; and I -can hear her say to my father, 'May I ask a favor of you, monsieur?' She -had been running and was out of breath, but did not wait for him to -answer and at once added, 'The gentleman you saw would like to speak to -you.' This was said in perfect French without the least accent. . . . My -father hesitated. But his hesitation seemed to shock her as though it -were an unspeakable offense against the person who had sent her; and she -said, in a harsher tone, 'Surely you do not mean to refuse!' 'Why not?' -said my father, with obvious impatience. 'I am not here to receive -orders.' She restrained herself and said, 'It is not an order, it is a -wish.' 'Very well,' said my father, 'I will agree to the interview. I -will wait for your friend here.' She seemed shocked. 'No, no,' she -said, 'you must . . .' 'I must put myself out, must I?' cried my father, -in a loud voice. 'You expect me to cross the frontier to where somebody -is condescending to expect me? I am sorry, madam, but I will not consent -to that. Tell your friend that if he fears an indiscretion on my part he -can set his mind at rest. Come along, Paul.' He took off his hat to the -lady and bowed. But she barred his way: 'No, no,' she said, 'you must do -what I ask. What is a promise of discretion worth? The thing must be -settled one way or the other; and you yourself will admit. . . .' Those -were the last words I heard. She was standing opposite my father in a -violent and hostile attitude. Her face was distorted with an expression -of fierceness that terrified me. Oh, why did I not foresee what was -going to happen? . . . But I was so young! And it all came so quickly! -. . . She walked up to my father and, so to speak, forced him back to -the foot of a large tree, on the right of the chapel. They raised their -voices. She made a threatening gesture. He began to laugh. And suddenly, -immediately, she whipped out a knife--I can see the blade now, flashing -through the darkness--and stabbed him in the chest, twice . . . twice, -there, full in the chest. My father fell to the ground." - -Paul Delroze stopped, pale with the memory of the crime. - -"Oh," faltered Elisabeth, "your father was murdered? . . . My poor -Paul, my poor darling!" And in a voice of anguish she asked, "What -happened next, Paul? Did you cry out?" - -"I shouted, I rushed towards him, but a hand caught me in an -irresistible grip. It was the man, the servant, who had darted out of -the woods and seized me. I saw his knife raised above my head. I felt a -terrible blow on my shoulder. Then I also fell." - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE LOCKED ROOM - - -The carriage stood waiting for them a little way ahead. They had sat -down by the roadside on reaching the upland at the top of the ascent. -The green, undulating valley of the Liseron opened up before them, with -its little winding river escorted by two white roads which followed its -every turn. Behind them, under the setting sun, some three hundred feet -below, lay the clustering mass of Corvigny. Two miles in front of them -rose the turrets of Ornequin and the ruins of the old castle. - -Terrified by Paul's story, Elisabeth was silent for a time. Then she -said: - -"Oh, Paul, how terrible it all is! Were you very badly hurt?" - -"I can remember nothing until the day when I woke up in a room which I -did not know and saw a nun and an old lady, a cousin of my father's, who -were nursing me. It was the best room of an inn somewhere between -Belfort and the frontier. Twelve days before, at a very early hour in -the morning, the innkeeper had found two bodies, all covered with blood, -which had been laid there during the night. One of the bodies was quite -cold. It was my poor father's. I was still breathing, but very slightly. -. . . I had a long convalescence, interrupted by relapses and fits of -delirium, in which I tried to make my escape. My old cousin, the only -relation I had left, showed me the most wonderful and devoted kindness. -Two months later she took me home with her. I was very nearly cured of -my wound, but so greatly affected by my father's death and by the -frightful circumstances surrounding it that it was several years before -I recovered my health completely. As to the tragedy itself. . . ." - -"Well?" asked Elisabeth, throwing her arm round her husband's neck, with -an eager movement of protection. - -"Well, they never succeeded in fathoming the mystery. And yet the police -conducted their investigations zealously and scrupulously, trying to -verify the only information which they were able to employ, that which I -gave them. All their efforts failed. You know, my information was very -vague. Apart from what had happened in the glade and in front of the -chapel, I knew nothing. I could not tell them where to find the chapel, -nor where to look for it, nor in what part of the country the tragedy -had occurred." - -"But still you had taken a journey, you and your father, to reach that -part of the country; and it seems to me that, by tracing your road back -to your departure from Strasburg. . . ." - -"Well, of course they did their best to follow up that track; and the -French police, not content with calling in the aid of the German police, -sent their shrewdest detectives to the spot. But this is exactly what -afterwards, when I was of an age to think out things, struck me as so -strange: not a single trace was found of our stay at Strasburg. You -quite understand? Not a trace of any kind. Now, if there was one thing -of which I was absolutely certain, it was that we had spent at least two -days and nights at Strasburg. The magistrate who had the case in hand, -looking upon me as a child and one who had been badly knocked about and -upset, came to the conclusion that my memory must be at fault. But I -knew that this was not so; I knew it then and I know it still." - -"What then, Paul?" - -"Well, I cannot help seeing a connection between the total elimination -of undeniable facts--facts easily checked or reconstructed, such as the -visit of a Frenchman and his son to Strasburg, their railway journey, -the leaving of their luggage in the cloak-room of a town in Alsace, the -hiring of a couple of bicycles--and this main fact, that the Emperor was -directly, yes, directly mixed up in the business." - -"But this connection must have been as obvious to the magistrate's mind -as to yours, Paul." - -"No doubt; but neither the examining magistrate nor any of his -colleagues and the other officials who took my evidence was willing to -admit the Emperor's presence in Alsace on that day." - -"Why not?" - -"Because the German newspapers stated that he was in Frankfort at that -very hour." - -"In Frankfort?" - -"Of course, he is stated to be wherever he commands and never at a place -where he does not wish his presence known. At any rate, on this point -also I was accused of being in error and the inquiry was thwarted by an -assemblage of obstacles, impossibilities, lies and alibis which, to my -mind, revealed the continuous and all-powerful action of an unlimited -authority. There is no other explanation. Just think: how can two French -subjects put up at a Strasburg hotel without having their names entered -in the visitors' book? Well, whether because the book was destroyed or a -page torn out, no record whatever of the names was found. So there was -one proof, one clue gone. As for the hotel proprietor and waiters, the -railway booking clerks and porters, the man who owned the bicycles: -these were so many subordinates, so many accomplices, all of whom -received orders to be silent; and not one of them disobeyed." - -"But afterwards, Paul, you must have made your own search?" - -"I should think I did! Four times since I came of age I have been over -the whole frontier from Switzerland to Luxemburg, from Belfort to -Longwy, questioning the inhabitants, studying the country. I have spent -hours and hours in cudgeling my brains in the vain hope of extracting -the slightest recollection that would have given me a gleam of light. -But all without result. There was not one fresh glimmer amid all that -darkness. Only three pictures showed through the dense fog of the past, -pictures of the place and the things which witnessed the crime: the -trees in the glade, the old chapel and the path leading through the -woods. And then there was the figure of the Emperor and . . . the figure -of the woman who killed my father." - -Paul had lowered his voice. His face was distorted with grief and -loathing. - -"As for her," he went on, "if I live to be a hundred, I shall see her -before my eyes as something standing out in all its details under the -full light of day. The shape of her lips, the expression of her eyes, -the color of her hair, the special character of her walk, the rhythm of -her movements, the outline of her body: all this is recorded within -myself, not as a vision which I summon up at will, but as something that -forms part of my very being. It is as though, during my delirium, all -the mysterious powers of my brain had collaborated to assimilate -entirely those hateful memories. There was a time when all this was a -morbid obsession: nowadays, I suffer only at certain hours, when the -night is coming in and I am alone. My father was murdered; and the woman -who murdered him is alive, unpunished, happy, rich, honored, pursuing -her work of hatred and destruction." - -"Would you know her again if you saw her, Paul?" - -"Would I know her again! I should know her among a thousand. Even if she -were disfigured by age, I should discover in the wrinkles of the old -woman that she had become the face of the younger woman who stabbed my -father to death on that September evening. Know her again! Why, I -noticed the very shade of the dress she wore! It seems incredible, but -there it is. A gray dress, with a black lace scarf over the shoulders; -and here, in the bodice, by way of a brooch, a heavy cameo, set in a -gold snake with ruby eyes. You see, Elisabeth, I have not forgotten and -I never shall forget." - -He ceased. Elisabeth was crying. The past which her husband had revealed -to her was filling her with the same sense of horror and bitterness. He -drew her to him and kissed her on the forehead. - -"You are right not to forget," she said. "The murder will be punished -because it has to be punished. But you must not let your life be subject -to these memories of hatred. There are two of us now and we love each -other. Let us look towards the future." - - * * * * * - -The Chateau d'Ornequin is a handsome sixteenth century building of -simple design, with four peaked turrets, tall windows with denticulated -pinnacles and a light balustrade projecting above the first story. The -esplanade is formed by well-kept lawns which surround the courtyard and -lead on the right and left to gardens, woods and orchards. One side of -these lawns ends in a broad terrace overlooking the valley of the -Liseron. On this terrace, in a line with the house, stand the majestic -ruins of a four-square castle-keep. - -The whole wears a very stately air. The estate, surrounded by farms and -fields, demands active and careful working for its maintenance. It is -one of the largest in the department. - -Seventeen years before, at the sale held upon the death of the last -Baron d'Ornequin, Elisabeth's father, the Comte d'Andeville, bought it -at his wife's desire. He had been married for five years and had -resigned his commission in the cavalry in order to devote himself -entirely to the woman he loved. A chance journey brought them to -Ornequin just as the sale, which had hardly been advertised in the local -press, was about to be held. Hermine d'Andeville fell in love with the -house and the domain; and the Count, who was looking for an estate whose -management would occupy his spare time effected the purchase through his -lawyer by private treaty. - -During the winter that followed, he directed from Paris the work of -restoration which was necessitated by the state of disrepair in which -the former owner had left the house. M. d'Andeville wished it to be not -only comfortable but also elegant; and, little by little, he sent down -all the tapestries, pictures, objects of art and knicknacks that -adorned his house in Paris. - -They were not able to take up their residence until August. They then -spent a few delightful weeks with their dear Elisabeth, at this time -four years old, and their son, Bernard, a lusty boy to whom the Countess -had given birth that same year. Hermine d'Andeville was devoted to her -children and never went beyond the confines of the park. The Count -looked after his farms and shot over his coverts, accompanied by Jerome, -his gamekeeper, a worthy Alsatian, who had been in the late owner's -service and who knew every yard of the estate. - -At the end of October, the Countess took cold; the illness that followed -was pretty serious; and the Comte d'Andeville decided to take her and -the children to the south. A fortnight later she had a relapse; and in -three days she was dead. - -The Count experienced the despair which makes a man feel that life is -over and that, whatever happens, he will never again know the sense of -joy nor even an alleviation of any sort. He lived not so much for the -sake of his children as to cherish within himself the cult of her whom -he had lost and to perpetuate a memory which now became the sole reason -of his existence. - -He was unable to return to the Chateau d'Ornequin, where he had known -too perfect a happiness; on the other hand, he would not have strangers -live there; and he ordered Jerome to keep the doors and shutters closed -and to lock up the Countess' boudoir and bedroom in such a way that no -one could ever enter. Jerome was also to let the farms and to collect -the tenants' rents. - -This break with the past was not enough to satisfy the Count. It seems -strange in a man who existed only for the sake of his wife's memory, but -everything that reminded him of her--familiar objects, domestic -surroundings, places and landscapes--became a torture to him; and his -very children filled him with a sense of discomfort which he was unable -to overcome. He had an elder sister, a widow, living in the country, at -Chaumont. He placed his daughter Elisabeth and his son Bernard in her -charge and went abroad. - -Aunt Aline was the most devoted and unselfish of women; and under her -care Elisabeth enjoyed a grave, studious and affectionate childhood in -which her heart developed together with her mind and her character. She -received the education almost of a boy, together with a strong moral -discipline. At the age of twenty, she had grown into a tall, capable, -fearless girl, whose face, inclined by nature to be melancholy, -sometimes lit up with the fondest and most innocent of smiles. It was -one of those faces which reveal beforehand the pangs and raptures held -in store by fate. The tears were never far from her eyes, which seemed -as though troubled by the spectacle of life. Her hair, with its bright -curls, lent a certain gaiety to her appearance. - -At each visit that the Comte d'Andeville paid his daughter between his -wanderings he fell more and more under her charm. He took her one winter -to Spain and the next to Italy. It was in this way that she became -acquainted with Paul Delroze at Rome and met him again at Naples and -Syracuse, from which town Paul accompanied the d'Andevilles on a long -excursion through Sicily. The intimacy thus formed attached the two -young people by a bond of which they did not realize the full strength -till the time came for parting. - -Like Elisabeth, Paul had been brought up in the country and, again like -her, by a fond kinswoman who strove, by dint of loving care, to make him -forget the tragedy of his childhood. Though oblivion failed to come, at -any rate she succeeded in continuing his father's work and in making of -Paul a manly and industrious lad, interested in books, life and the -doings of mankind. He went to school and, after performing his military -service, spent two years in Germany, studying some of his favorite -industrial and mechanical subjects on the spot. - -Tall and well set up, with his black hair flung back from his rather -thin face, with its determined chin, he made an impression of strength -and energy. - -His meeting with Elisabeth revealed to him a world of ideas and emotions -which he had hitherto disdained. For him as for her it was a sort of -intoxication mingled with amazement. Love created in them two new souls, -light and free as air, whose ready enthusiasm and expansiveness formed -a sharp contrast with the habits enforced upon them by the strict -tendency of their lives. On his return to France he asked for -Elisabeth's hand in marriage and obtained her consent. - -On the day of the marriage contract, three days before the wedding, the -Comte d'Andeville announced that he would add the Chateau d'Ornequin to -Elisabeth's dowry. The young couple decided that they would live there -and that Paul should look about in the valleys of the neighboring -manufacturing district for some works which he could buy and manage. - -They were married on Thursday, the 30th of July, at Chaumont. It was a -quiet wedding, because of the rumors of war, though the Comte -d'Andeville, on the strength of information to which he attached great -credit, declared that no war would take place. At the breakfast in which -the two families took part, Paul made the acquaintance of Bernard -d'Andeville, Elisabeth's brother, a schoolboy of barely seventeen, whose -holidays had just begun. Paul took to him, because of his frank bearing -and high spirits; and it was arranged that Bernard should join them in a -few days at Ornequin. At one o'clock Elisabeth and Paul left Chaumont by -train. They were going hand-in-hand to the chateau where the first years -of their marriage were to be spent and perhaps all that happy and -peaceful future which opens up before the dazzling eyes of lovers. - -It was half-past six o'clock when they saw Jerome's wife standing at the -foot of the steps. Rosalie was a stout, motherly body with ruddy, -mottled cheeks and a cheerful face. - -Before dining, they took a hurried turn in the garden and went over the -house. Elisabeth could not contain her emotion. Though there were no -memories to excite her, she seemed, nevertheless, to rediscover -something of the mother whom she had known for such a little while, -whose features she could not remember and who had here spent the last -happy days of her life. For her, the shade of the dead woman still trod -those garden paths. The great, green lawns exhaled a special fragrance. -The leaves on the trees rustled in the wind with a whisper which she -seemed already to have heard in that same spot and at the same hour of -the day, with her mother listening beside her. - -"You seem depressed, Elisabeth," said Paul. - -"Not depressed, but unsettled. I feel as though my mother were welcoming -us to this place where she thought she was to live and where we have -come with the same intention. And I somehow feel anxious. It is as -though I were a stranger, an intruder, disturbing the rest and peace of -the house. Only think! My mother has been here all alone for such a -time! My father would never come here; and I was telling myself that we -have no right to come here either, with our indifference for everything -that is not ourselves." - -Paul smiled: - -"Elisabeth, my darling, you are simply feeling that impression of -uneasiness which one always feels on arriving at a new place in the -evening." - -"I don't know," she said. "I daresay you are right. . . . But I can't -shake off the uneasiness; and that is so unlike me. Do you believe in -presentiments, Paul?" - -"No, do you?" - -"No, I don't either," she said, laughing and giving him her lips. - -They were surprised to find that the rooms of the house looked as if -they had been constantly inhabited. By the Count's orders, everything -had remained as it was in the far-off days of Hermine d'Andeville. The -knickknacks were there, in the same places, and every piece of -embroidery, every square of lace, every miniature, all the handsome -eighteenth century chairs, all the Flemish tapestry, all the furniture -which the Count had collected in the old days to add to the beauty of -his house. They were thus entering from the first into a charming and -home-like setting. - -After dinner they returned to the gardens, where they strolled to and -fro in silence, with their arms entwined round each other's waists. From -the terrace they looked down upon the dark valley, with a few lights -gleaming here and there. The old castle-keep raised its massive ruins -against a pale sky, in which a remnant of vague light still lingered. - -"Paul," said Elisabeth, in a low voice, "did you notice, as we went over -the house, a door closed with a great padlock?" - -"In the middle of the chief corridor, near your bedroom, you mean?" - -"Yes. That was my poor mother's boudoir. My father insisted that it -should be locked, as well as the bedroom leading out of it; and Jerome -put a padlock on the door and sent him the key. No one has set foot in -it since. It is just as my mother left it. All her own things--her -unfinished work, her books--are there. And on the wall facing the door, -between the two windows that have always been kept shut, is her -portrait, which my father had ordered a year before of a great painter -of his acquaintance, a full-length portrait which, I understand, is the -very image of her. Her _prie-Dieu_ is beside it. This morning my father -gave me the key of the boudoir and I promised him that I would kneel -down on the _prie-Dieu_ and say a prayer before the portrait of the -mother whom I hardly knew and whose features I cannot imagine, for I -never even had a photograph of her." - -"Really? How was that?" - -"You see, my father loved my mother so much that, in obedience to a -feeling which he himself was unable to explain, he wished to be alone in -his recollection of her. He wanted his memories to be hidden deep down -in himself, so that nothing would remind him of her except his own will -and his grief. He almost begged my pardon for it this morning, said -that perhaps he had done me a wrong; and that is why he wants us to go -together, Paul, on this first evening, and pray before the picture of my -poor dead mother." - -"Let us go now, Elisabeth." - -Her hand trembled in her husband's hand as they climbed the stairs to -the first floor. Lamps had been lighted all along the passage. They -stopped in front of a tall, wide door surmounted with gilded carvings. - -"Unfasten the lock, Paul," said Elisabeth. - -Her voice shook as she spoke. She handed him the key. He removed the -padlock and seized the door-handle. But Elisabeth suddenly gripped her -husband's arm: - -"One moment, Paul, one moment! I feel so upset. This is the first time -that I shall look on my mother's face . . . and you, my dearest, are -beside me. . . . I feel as if I were becoming a little girl again." - -"Yes," he said, pressing her hand passionately, "a little girl and a -grown woman in one." - -Comforted by the clasp of his hand, she released hers and whispered: - -"We will go in now, Paul darling." - -He opened the door and returned to the passage to take a lamp from a -bracket on the wall and place it on the table. Meanwhile, Elisabeth had -walked across the room and was standing in front of the picture. Her -mother's face was in the shadow and she altered the position of the -lamp so as to throw the full light upon it. - -"How beautiful she is, Paul!" - -He went up to the picture and raised his head. Elisabeth sank to her -knees on the _prie-Dieu_. But presently, hearing Paul turn round, she -looked up at him and was stupefied by what she saw. He was standing -motionless, livid in the face, his eyes wide open, as though gazing at -the most frightful vision. - -"Paul," she cried, "what's the matter?" - -He began to make for the door, stepping backwards, unable to take his -eyes from the portrait of Hermine d'Andeville. He was staggering like a -drunken man; and his arms beat the air around him. - -"That . . . that . . ." he stammered, hoarsely. - -"Paul," Elisabeth entreated, "what is it? What are you trying to say?" - -"That . . . that is the woman who killed my father!" - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE CALL TO ARMS - - -The hideous accusation was followed by an awful silence. Elisabeth was -now standing in front of her husband, striving to understand his words, -which had not yet acquired their real meaning for her, but which hurt -her as though she had been stabbed to the heart. - -She moved towards him and, with her eyes in his, spoke in a voice so low -that he could hardly hear: - -"You surely can't mean what you said, Paul? The thing is too monstrous!" - -He replied in the same tone: - -"Yes, it is a monstrous thing. I don't believe it myself yet. I refuse -to believe it." - -"Then--it's a mistake, isn't it?--Confess it, you've made a mistake." - -She implored him with all the distress that filled her being, as though -she were hoping to make him yield. He fixed his eyes again on the -accursed portrait, over his wife's shoulder, and shivered from head to -foot: - -"Oh, it is she!" he declared, clenching his fists. "It is she--I -recognize her--it is the woman who killed my----" - -A shock of protest ran through her body; and, beating her breast, she -cried: - -"My mother! My mother a murderess! My mother, whom my father used to -worship and went on worshiping! My mother, who used to hold me on her -knee and kiss me!--I have forgotten everything about her except that, -her kisses and her caresses! And you tell me that she is a murderess!" - -"It is true." - -"Oh, Paul, you must not say anything so horrible! How can you be -positive, such a long time after? You were only a child; and you saw so -little of the woman . . . hardly a few minutes . . ." - -"I saw more of her than it seems humanly possible to see," exclaimed -Paul, loudly. "From the moment of the murder her image never left my -sight. I have tried to shake it off at times, as one tries to shake off -a nightmare; but I could not. And the image is there, hanging on the -wall. As sure as I live, it is there; I know it as I should know your -image after twenty years. It is she . . . why, look, on her breast, that -brooch set in a gold snake! . . . a cameo, as I told you, and the -snake's eyes . . . two rubies! . . . and the black lace scarf around the -shoulders! It's she, I tell you, it's the woman I saw!" - -A growing rage excited him to frenzy; and he shook his fist at the -portrait of Hermine d'Andeville. - -"Hush!" cried Elisabeth, under the torment of his words. "Hold your -tongue! I won't allow you to . . ." - -She tried to put her hand on his mouth to compel him to silence. But -Paul made a movement of repulsion, as though he were shrinking from his -wife's touch; and the movement was so abrupt and so instinctive that she -fell to the ground sobbing while he, incensed, exasperated by his sorrow -and hatred, impelled by a sort of terrified hallucination that drove him -back to the door, shouted: - -"Look at her! Look at her wicked mouth, her pitiless eyes! She is -thinking of the murder! . . . I see her, I see her! . . . She goes up to -my father . . . she leads him away . . . she raises her arm . . . and -she kills him! . . . Oh, the wretched, monstrous woman! . . ." - -He rushed from the room. - - * * * * * - -Paul spent the night in the park, running like a madman wherever the -dark paths led him, or flinging himself, when tired out, on the grass -and weeping, weeping endlessly. - -Paul Delroze had known no suffering save from his memory of the murder, -a chastened suffering which, nevertheless, at certain periods became -acute until it smarted like a fresh wound. This time the pain was so -great and so unexpected that, notwithstanding his usual self-mastery and -his well-balanced mind, he utterly lost his head. His thoughts, his -actions, his attitudes, the words which he yelled into the darkness -were those of a man who has parted with his self-control. - -One thought and one alone kept returning to his seething brain, in which -his ideas and impressions whirled like leaves in the wind; one terrible -thought: - -"I know the woman who killed my father; and that woman's daughter is the -woman whom I love." - -Did he still love her? No doubt, he was desperately mourning a happiness -which he knew to be shattered; but did he still love Elisabeth? Could he -love Hermine d'Andeville's daughter? - -When he went indoors at daybreak and passed Elisabeth's room, his heart -beat no faster than before. His hatred of the murderess destroyed all -else that might stir within him: love, affection, longing, or even the -merest human pity. - -The torpor into which he sank for a few hours relaxed his nerves a -little, but did not change his mental attitude. Perhaps, on the -contrary, and without even thinking about it, he was still more -unwilling than before to meet Elisabeth. And yet he wanted to know, to -ascertain, to gather all the essential particulars and to make quite -certain before taking the resolve that would decide the great tragedy of -his life in one way or another. - -Above all, he must question Jerome and his wife, whose evidence was of -no small value, owing to the fact that they had known the Comtesse -d'Andeville. Certain matters concerning the dates, for instance, might -be cleared up forthwith. - -He found them in their lodge, both of them greatly excited, Jerome with -a newspaper in his hand and Rosalie making gestures of dismay. - -"It's settled, sir," cried Jerome. "You can be sure of it: it's coming!" - -"What?" asked Paul. - -"Mobilization, sir, the call to arms. You'll see it does. I saw some -gendarmes, friends of mine, and they told me. The posters are ready." - -Paul remarked, absent-mindedly: - -"The posters are always ready." - -"Yes, but they're going to stick them up at once, you'll see, sir. Just -look at the paper. Those swine--you'll forgive me, sir, but it's the -only word for them--those swine want war. Austria would be willing to -negotiate, but in the meantime the others have been mobilizing for -several days. Proof is, they won't let you cross into their country any -more. And worse: yesterday they destroyed a French railway station, not -far from here, and pulled up the rails. Read it for yourself, sir!" - -Paul skimmed through the stop-press telegrams, but, though he saw that -they were serious, war seemed to him such an unlikely thing that he did -not pay much attention to them. - -"It'll be settled all right," he said. "That's just their way of -talking, with their hand on the sword-hilt; but I can't believe . . ." - -"You're wrong, sir," Rosalie muttered. - -He no longer listened, thinking only of the tragedy of his fate and -casting about for the best means of obtaining the necessary replies from -Jerome. But he was not able to contain himself any longer and he -broached the subject frankly: - -"I daresay you know, Jerome, that madame and I have been to the Comtesse -d'Andeville's room." - -The statement produced an extraordinary effect upon the keeper and his -wife, as though it had been a sacrilege to enter that room so long kept -locked, the mistress' room, as they called it among themselves. - -"You don't mean that, sir!" Rosalie blurted out. - -And Jerome added: - -"No, of course not, for I sent the only key of the padlock, a safety-key -it was, to Monsieur le Comte." - -"He gave it us yesterday morning," said Paul. - -And, without troubling further about their amazement, he proceeded -straightaway to put his questions: - -"There is a portrait of the Comtesse d'Andeville between the two -windows. When was it hung there?" - -Jerome did not reply at once. He thought for a moment, looked at his -wife, and then said: - -"Why, that's easily answered. It was when Monsieur le Comte sent all his -furniture to the house . . . before they moved in." - -"When was that?" - -Paul's agony was unendurable during the three or four seconds before the -reply. - -"Well?" he asked. - -When the reply came at last it was decisive: - -"Well, it was in the spring of 1898." - -"Eighteen hundred and ninety-eight!" - -Paul repeated the words in a dull voice: 1898 was the year of his -father's murder! - -Without stopping to reflect, with the coolness of an examining -magistrate who does not swerve from the line which he has laid out, he -asked: - -"So the Comte and Comtesse d'Andeville arrived . . ." - -"Monsieur le Comte and Madame le Comtesse arrived at the castle on the -28th of August, 1898, and left for the south on the 24th of October." - -Paul now knew the truth, for his father was murdered on the 19th of -September. And all the circumstances which depended on that truth, which -explained it in its main details or which proceeded from it at once -appeared to him. He remembered that his father was on friendly terms -with the Comte d'Andeville. He said to himself that his father, in the -course of his journey in Alsace, must have learnt that his friend -d'Andeville was living in Lorraine and must have contemplated paying him -a surprise visit. He reckoned up the distance between Ornequin and -Strasburg, a distance which corresponded with the time spent in the -train. And he asked: - -"How far is this from the frontier?" - -"Three miles and three-quarters, sir." - -"On the other side, at no great distance, there's a little German town, -is there not?" - -"Yes, sir, Ebrecourt." - -"Is there a short-cut to the frontier?" - -"Yes, sir, for about half-way: a path at the other end of the park." - -"Through the woods?" - -"Through Monsieur le Comte's woods." - -"And in those woods . . ." - -To acquire total, absolute certainty, that certainty which comes not -from an interpretation of the facts but from the facts themselves, which -would stand out visible and palpable, all that he had to do was to put -the last question: in those woods was not there a little chapel in the -middle of a glade? Paul Delroze did not put the question. Perhaps he -thought it too precise, perhaps he feared lest it should induce the -gamekeeper to entertain thoughts and comparisons which the nature of the -conversation was already sufficient to warrant. He merely asked: - -"Was the Comtesse d'Andeville away at all during the six weeks which she -spent at Ornequin? For two or three days, I mean?" - -"No, sir, Madame le Comtesse never left the grounds." - -"She kept to the park?" - -"Yes, sir. Monsieur le Comte used to drive almost every afternoon to -Corvigny or in the valley, but Madame la Comtesse never went beyond the -park and the woods." - -Paul knew what he wanted to know. Not caring what Jerome and his wife -might think, he did not trouble to find an excuse for his strange series -of apparently disconnected questions. He left the lodge and walked away. - -Eager though he was to complete his inquiry, he postponed the -investigations which he intended to pursue outside the park. It was as -though he dreaded to face the final proof, which had really become -superfluous after those with which chance had supplied him. He therefore -went back to the chateau and, at lunch-time, resolved to accept this -inevitable meeting with Elisabeth. But his wife's maid came to him in -the drawing-room and said that her mistress sent her excuses. Madame was -not feeling very well and asked did monsieur mind if she took her lunch -in her own room. He understood that she wished to leave him entirely -free, refusing, on her side, to appeal to him on behalf of a mother whom -she respected and, if necessary, submitting beforehand to whatever -eventual decision her husband might make. - -Lunching by himself under the eyes of the butler and footman waiting at -table, he felt in the utmost depths of his heart that his happiness was -gone and that Elisabeth and he, thanks to circumstances for which -neither of them was responsible, had on the very day of their marriage -become enemies whom no power on earth could bring together. Certainly, -he bore her no hatred and did not reproach her with her mother's crime; -but unconsciously he was angry with her, as for a fault, inasmuch as -she was her mother's daughter. - -For two hours after lunch he remained closeted with the portrait in the -boudoir: a tragic interview which he wished to have with the murderess, -so as to fill his eyes with her accursed image and give fresh strength -to his memories. He examined every slightest detail. He studied the -cameo, the swan with unfurled wings which it represented, the chasing of -the gold snake that formed the setting, the position of the rubies and -also the draping of the lace around the shoulders, not to speak of the -shape of the mouth and the color of the hair and the outline of the -face. - -It was undoubtedly the woman whom he had seen that September evening. A -corner of the picture bore the painter's signature; and underneath, on -the frame, was a scroll with the inscription: - - Portrait of the Comtesse H. - -No doubt the portrait had been exhibited with that discreet reference to -the Comtesse Hermine. - -"Now, then," said Paul. "A few minutes more, and the whole past will -come to life again. I have found the criminal; I have now only to find -the place of the crime. If the chapel is there, in the woods, the truth -will be complete." - -He went for the truth resolutely. He feared it less now, because it -could no longer escape his grasp. And yet how his heart beat, with -great, painful throbs, and how he loathed the idea of taking the road -leading to that other road along which his father had passed sixteen -years before! - -A vague movement of Jerome's hand had told him which way to go. He -crossed the park in the direction of the frontier, bearing to his left -and passing a lodge. At the entrance to the woods was a long avenue of -fir-trees down which he went. Four hundred yards farther it branched -into three narrow avenues. Two of these proved to end in impenetrable -thickets. The third led to the top of a mound, from which he descended, -still keeping to his left, by another avenue of fir-trees. - -In selecting this road, Paul realized that it was just this avenue of -firs the appearance of which aroused in him, through some untold -resemblance of shape and arrangement, memories clear enough to guide his -steps. It ran straight ahead for some time and then took a sudden turn -into a cluster of tall beeches whose leafy tops met overhead. Then the -road sloped upwards; and, at the end of the dark tunnel through which he -was walking, Paul perceived the glare of light that points to an open -space. - -The anguish of it all made his knees give way beneath him; and he had to -make an effort to proceed. Was it the glade in which his father had -received his death-blow? The more that luminous space became revealed to -his eyes, the more did he feel penetrated with a profound conviction. As -in the room with the portrait, the past was recovering the very aspect -of the truth in and before him. - -It was the same glade, surrounded by a ring of trees that presented the -same picture and covered with a carpet of grass and moss which the same -paths divided as of old. The same glimpse of sky was above him, outlined -by the capricious masses of foliage. And there, on his left, guarded by -two yew-trees which Paul recognized, was the chapel. - -The chapel! The little old massive chapel, whose lines had etched -themselves like furrows into his brain! Trees grow, become taller, alter -their form. The appearance of a glade is liable to change. Its paths -will sometimes interlock in a different fashion. A man's memory can play -him a trick. But a building of granite and cement is immutable. It takes -centuries to give it the green-gray color that is the mark which time -sets upon the stone; and this bloom of age never alters. The chapel that -stood there, displaying a grimy-paned rose-window in its east front, was -undoubtedly that from which the German Emperor had stepped, followed by -the woman who, ten minutes later, committed the murder. - -Paul walked to the door. He wanted to revisit the place in which his -father had spoken to him for the last time. It was a moment of tense -emotion. The same little roof which had sheltered their bicycles -projected at the back; and the door was the same, with its great rusty -clamps and bars. - -He stood on the single step that led to it, raised the latch and pushed -the door. But as he was about to enter, two men, hidden in the shadow on -either side, sprang at him. - -One of them aimed a revolver full in his face. By some miracle, Paul -noticed the gleaming barrel of the weapon just in time to stoop before -the bullet could strike him. A second shot rang out, but he had hustled -the man and now snatched the revolver from his hand, while his other -aggressor threatened him with a dagger. He stepped backwards out of the -chapel, with outstretched arm, and twice pulled the trigger. Each time -there was a click but no shot. The mere fact, however, of his firing at -the two scoundrels terrified them, and they turned tail and made off as -fast as they could. - -Bewildered by the suddenness of the attack, Paul stood for a second -irresolute. Then he fired at the fugitives again, but to no purpose. The -revolver, which was obviously loaded in only two chambers, clicked but -did not go off. - -He then started running after his assailants; and he remembered that -long ago the Emperor and his companion, on leaving the chapel, had taken -the same direction, which was evidently that of the frontier. - -Almost at the same moment the men, seeing themselves pursued, plunged -into the wood and slipped in among the trees; but Paul, who was swifter -of foot, rapidly gained ground on them, all the more so as he had gone -round a hollow filled with bracken and brambles into which the others -had ventured. - -Suddenly one of them gave a shrill whistle, probably a warning to some -accomplice. Soon after they disappeared behind a line of extremely dense -bushes. When he had passed through these, Paul saw at a distance of -sixty yards before him a high wall which seemed to shut in the woods on -every side. The men were half-way to it; and he perceived that they were -making straight for a part of the wall containing a small door. - -Paul put on a spurt so as to reach the door before they had time to open -it. The bare ground enabled him to increase his speed, whereas the men, -who were obviously tired, had reduced theirs. - -"I've got them, the ruffians!" he murmured. "I shall at last know . . ." - -A second whistle sounded, followed by a guttural shout. He was now -within twenty yards of them and could hear them speak. - -"I've got them, I've got them!" he repeated, with fierce delight. - -And he made up his mind to strike one of them in the face with the -barrel of his revolver and to spring at the other's throat. - -But, before they even reached the wall, the door was pushed open from -the outside and a third man appeared and let them through. - -Paul flung away the revolver; and his impetus was such and the effort -which he made so great that he managed to seize the door and draw it to -him. - -The door gave way. And what he then saw scared him to such a degree that -he started backwards and did not even dream of defending himself against -this fresh attack. The third man--Oh, hideous nightmare! Could it -moreover be anything but a nightmare?--the third ruffian was raising a -knife against him; and Paul knew his face . . . it was a face resembling -the one which he had seen before, a man's face and not a woman's, but -the same sort of face, undoubtedly the same sort: a face marked by -fifteen additional years and by an even harder and more wicked -expression, but the same sort of face, the same sort! - -And the man stabbed Paul, even as the woman of fifteen years ago, even -as she who was since dead had stabbed Paul's father. - - * * * * * - -Paul Delroze staggered, but rather as the result of the nervous shock -caused by the sudden appearance of this ghost of the past; for the blade -of the dagger, striking the button on the shoulder-strap of his -shooting-jacket, broke into splinters. Dazed and misty-eyed, he heard -the sound of the door closing, the grating of the key in the lock and -lastly the hum of a motor car starting on the other side of the wall. -When Paul recovered from his torpor there was nothing left for him to -do. The man and his two confederates were out of reach. - -Besides, for the moment he was utterly absorbed in the mystery of the -likeness between the figure from the past and that which he had just -seen. He could think of but one thing: - -"The Comtesse d'Andeville is dead; and here she is revived under the -aspect of a man whose face is the very face which she would have to-day. -Is it the face of some relation, of a brother of whom I never heard, a -twin perhaps?" - -And he reflected: - -"After all, am I not mistaken? Am I not the victim of an hallucination, -which would be only natural in the crisis through which I am passing? -How do I know for certain that there is any connection between the -present and the past? I must have a proof." - -The proof was ready to his hand; and it was so strong that Paul was not -able to doubt for much longer. He caught sight of the remains of the -dagger in the grass and picked up the handle. On it four letters were -engraved as with a red-hot iron: an H, an E, an R and an M. - -H, E, R, M; the first four letters of Hermine! . . . At this moment, -while he was staring at the letters which were to him so full of -meaning, at this moment, a moment which Paul was never to forget, the -bell of a church nearby began to ring in the most unusual manner: a -regular, monotonous, uninterrupted ringing, which sounded at once brisk -and unspeakably sinister. - -"The tocsin," he muttered to himself, without attaching the full sense -to the word. And he added: "A fire somewhere, I expect." - -A few minutes later Paul had succeeded in climbing over the wall by -means of the projecting branches of a tree. He found a further stretch -of woods, crossed by a forest road. He followed the tracks of a motor -car along this road and reached the frontier within an hour. - -A squad of German constabulary were sitting round the foot of the -frontier post; and he saw a white road with Uhlans trotting along it. At -the end of it was a cluster of red roofs and gardens. Was this the -little town where his father and he had hired their bicycles that day, -the little town of Ebrecourt? - -The melancholy bell never ceased. He noticed that the sound came from -France; also that another bell was ringing somewhere, likewise in -France, and a third from the direction of the Liseron; and all three on -the same hurried note, as though sending forth a wild appeal around -them. - -He repeated, anxiously: - -"The tocsin! . . . The alarm! . . . And it's being passed on from church -to church. . . . Can it mean that . . ." - -But he drove away the terrifying thought. No, his ears were misleading -him; or else it was the echo of a single bell thrown back in the hollow -valleys and ringing over the plains. - -Meanwhile he was gazing at the white road which issued from the little -German town, and he observed that a constant stream of horsemen was -arriving there and spreading across-country. Also a detachment of French -dragoons appeared on the ridge of a hill. The officer in command scanned -the horizon through his field-glasses and then trotted off with his men. - -Thereupon, unable to go any farther, Paul walked back to the wall which -he had climbed and found that the wall was prolonged around the whole of -the estate, including the woods and the park. He learnt besides from an -old peasant that it was built some twelve years ago, which explained why -Paul had never found the chapel in the course of his explorations along -the frontier. Once only, he now remembered, some one had told him of a -chapel; but it was one situated inside a private estate; and his -suspicions had not been aroused. - -While thus following the road that skirted the property, he came nearer -to the village of Ornequin, whose church suddenly rose at the end of a -clearing in the wood. The bell, which he had not heard for the last -moment or two, now rang out again with great distinctness. It was the -bell of Ornequin. It was frail, shrill, poignant as a lament and more -solemn than a passing-bell, for all its hurry and lightness. - -Paul walked towards the sound. A charming village, all aflower with -geraniums and Marguerites, stood gathered about its church. Silent -groups were studying a white notice posted on the Mayor's office. Paul -stepped forward and read the heading: - - "Mobilization Order." - -At any other period of his life these words would have struck him with -all their gloomy and terrific meaning. But the crisis through which he -was passing was too powerful to allow room for any great emotion within -him. He scarcely even contemplated the unavoidable consequences of the -proclamation. Very well, the country was mobilizing: the mobilization -would begin at midnight. . . . Very well, every one must go; he would -go. . . . And this assumed in his mind the form of so imperative an act, -the proportions of a duty which so completely exceeded every minor -obligation and every petty individual need that he felt, on the -contrary, a sort of relief at thus receiving from the outside the order -that dictated his conduct. There was no hesitation possible. His duty -lay before him: he must go. - -Go? In that case why not go at once? What was the use of returning to -the house, seeing Elisabeth again, seeking a painful and futile -explanation, granting or refusing a forgiveness which his wife did not -ask of him, but which the daughter of Hermine d'Andeville did not -deserve? - -In front of the principal inn a diligence stood waiting, marked, -"Corvigny-Ornequin Railway Service." A few passengers were getting in. -Without giving a further thought to a position which events were -developing in their own way, he climbed into the diligence. - -At the Corvigny railway station he was told that his train would not -leave for half an hour and that it was the last, as the evening train, -which connected with the night express on the main line, was not -running. Paul took his ticket and then asked his way to the jobmaster of -the village. He found that the man owned two motor cars and arranged -with him to have the larger of the two sent at once to the Chateau -d'Ornequin and placed at Mme. Paul Delroze's disposal. - -And he wrote a short note to his wife: - - "_Elisabeth:_ - - "Circumstances are so serious that I must ask you to - leave Ornequin. The trains have become very uncertain; - and I am sending you a motor car which will take you - to-night to your aunt at Chaumont. I suppose that the - servants will go with you and that, if there should be - war (which seems to me very unlikely, in spite of - everything), Jerome and Rosalie will shut up the house - and go to Corvigny. - - "As for me, I am joining my regiment. Whatever the - future may hold in store for us, Elisabeth, I shall - never forget the woman who was my bride and who bears - my name. - - "PAUL DELROZE." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A LETTER FROM ELISABETH - - -It was nine o'clock; there was no holding the position; and the colonel -was furious. - -He had brought his regiment in the middle of the night--it was in the -first month of the war, on the 22nd of August, 1914--to the junction of -those three roads one of which ran from Belgian Luxemburg. The Germans -had taken possession of the lines of the frontier, seven or eight miles -away, on the day before. The general commanding the division had -expressly ordered that they were to hold the enemy in check until -mid-day, that is to say, until the whole division was able to come up -with them. The regiment was supported by a battery of seventy-fives. - -The colonel had drawn up his men in a dip in the ground. The battery was -likewise hidden. And yet, at the first gleams of dawn, both regiment and -battery were located by the enemy and lustily shelled. - -They moved a mile or more to the right. Five minutes later the shells -fell and killed half a dozen men and two officers. - -A fresh move was effected, followed in ten minutes by a fresh attack. -The colonel pursued his tactics. In an hour there were thirty men killed -or wounded. One of the guns was destroyed. And it was only nine o'clock. - -"Damn it all!" cried the colonel. "How can they spot us like this? -There's witchcraft in it." - -He was hiding, with his majors, the captain of artillery and a few -dispatch-riders, behind a bank from above which the eye took in a rather -large stretch of undulating upland. At no great distance, on the left, -was an abandoned village, with some scattered farms in front of it, and -there was not an enemy to be seen in all that deserted extent of -country. There was nothing to show where the hail of shells was coming -from. The seventy-fives had "searched" one or two points with no result. -The firing continued. - -"Three more hours to hold out," growled the colonel. "We shall do it; -but we shall lose a quarter of the regiment." - -At that moment a shell whistled between the officers and the -dispatch-riders and plumped down into the ground. All sprang back, -awaiting the explosion. But one man, a corporal, ran forward, lifted the -shell and examined it. - -"You're mad, corporal!" roared the colonel. "Drop that shell and be -quick about it." - -The corporal replaced the projectile quietly in the hole which it had -made; and then without hurrying, went up to the colonel, brought his -heels together and saluted: - -"Excuse me, sir, but I wanted to see by the fuse how far off the enemy's -guns are. It's two miles and fifty yards. That may be worth knowing." - -"By Jove! And suppose it had gone off?" - -"Ah, well, sir, nothing venture, nothing have!" - -"True, but, all the same, it was a bit thick! What's your name?" - -"Paul Delroze, sir, corporal in the third company." - -"Well, Corporal Delroze, I congratulate you on your pluck and I dare say -you'll soon have your sergeant's stripes. Meanwhile, take my advice and -don't do it again. . . ." - -He was interrupted by the sudden bursting of a shrapnel-shell. One of -the dispatch-riders standing near him fell, hit in the chest, and an -officer staggered under the weight of the earth that spattered against -him. - -"Come," said the colonel, when things had restored themselves, "there's -nothing to do but bow before the storm. Take the best shelter you can -find; and let's wait." - -Paul Delroze stepped forward once more. - -"Forgive me, sir, for interfering in what's not my business; but we -might, I think, avoid . . ." - -"Avoid the peppering? Of course, I have only to change our position -again. But, as we should be located again at once. . . . There, my lad, -go back to your place." - -Paul insisted: - -"It might be a question, sir, not of changing our position, but of -changing the enemy's fire." - -"Really!" said the colonel, a little sarcastically, but nevertheless -impressed by Paul's coolness. "And do you know a way of doing it?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Give me twenty minutes, sir, and by that time the shells will be -falling in another direction." - -The colonel could not help smiling: - -"Capital! You'll make them drop where you please, I suppose?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"On that beet-field over there, fifteen hundred yards to the right?" - -"Yes, sir." - -The artillery-captain, who had been listening to the conversation, made -a jest in his turn: - -"While you are about it, corporal, as you have already given me the -distance and I know the direction more or less, couldn't you give it to -me exactly, so that I may lay my guns right and smash the German -batteries?" - -"That will be a longer job, sir, and much more difficult," said Paul. -"Still, I'll try. If you don't mind examining the horizon, at eleven -o'clock precisely, towards the frontier, I'll let off a signal." - -"What sort of signal?" - -"I don't know, sir. Three rockets, I expect." - -"But your signal will be no use unless you send it off immediately above -the enemy's position." - -"Just so, sir." - -"And, to do that, you'll have to know it." - -"I shall, sir." - -"And to get there." - -"I shall get there, sir." - -Paul saluted, turned on his heel and, before the officers had time -either to approve or to object, he slipped along the foot of the slope -at a run, plunged on the left down a sort of hollow way, with bristling -edges of brambles, and disappeared from sight. - -"That's a queer fellow," said the colonel. "I wonder what he really -means to do." - -The young soldier's pluck and decision disposed the colonel in his -favor; and, though he felt only a limited confidence in the result of -the enterprise, he could not help looking at his watch, time after time, -during the minutes which he spent with his officers, behind the feeble -rampart of a hay-stack. They were terrible minutes, in which the -commanding officer did not think for a moment of the danger that -threatened himself, but only of the danger of the men in his charge, -whom he looked upon as children. - -He saw them around him, lying at full length on the stubble, with their -knapsacks over their heads, or snugly ensconced in the copses, or -squatting in the hollows in the ground. The iron hurricane increased in -violence. It came rushing down like a furious hail bent upon hastily -completing its work of destruction. Men suddenly leapt to their feet, -spun on their heels and fell motionless, amid the yells of the wounded, -the shouts of the soldiers exchanging remarks and even jokes and, over -everything, the incessant thunder of the bursting bomb-shells. - -And then, suddenly, silence! Total, definite silence, an infinite lull -in the air and on the ground, giving a sort of ineffable relief! - -The colonel expressed his delight by bursting into a laugh: - -"By Jupiter, Corporal Delroze knows his way about! The crowning -achievement would be for the beet-field to be shelled, as he promised." - -He had not finished speaking when a shell exploded fifteen hundred yards -to the right, not in the beet-field, but a little in front of it. The -second went too far. The third found the spot. And the bombardment began -with a will. - -There was something about the performance of the task which the corporal -had set himself that was at once so astounding and so mathematically -accurate that the colonel and his officers had hardly a doubt that he -would carry it out to the end and that, notwithstanding the -insurmountable obstacles, he would succeed in giving the signal agreed -upon. - -They never ceased sweeping the horizon with their field-glasses, while -the enemy redoubled his efforts against the beet-field. - -At five minutes past eleven, a red rocket went up. It appeared a good -deal farther to the right than they would have suspected. And it was -followed by two others. - -Through his telescope the artillery-captain soon discovered a -church-steeple that just showed above a valley which was itself -invisible among the rise and fall of the plateau; and the spire of the -steeple protruded so very little that it might well have been taken for -a tree standing by itself. A rapid glance at the map showed that it was -the village of Brumoy. - -Knowing, from the shell examined by the corporal, the exact distance of -the German batteries, the captain telephoned his instructions to his -lieutenant. Half an hour later the German batteries were silenced; and -as a fourth rocket had gone up the seventy-fives continued to bombard -the church as well as the village and its immediate neighborhood. - -At a little before twelve, the regiment was joined by a cyclists company -riding ahead of the division. The order was given to advance at all -costs. - -The regiment advanced, encountering no resistance, as it approached -Brumoy, except a few rifle shots. The enemy's rearguard was falling -back. - -The village was in ruins, with some of its houses still burning, and -displayed a most incredible disorder of corpses, of wounded men, of dead -horses, demolished guns and battered caissons and baggage-wagons. A -whole brigade had been surprised at the moment, when, feeling certain -that it had cleared the ground, it was about to march to the attack. - -But a shout came from the top of the church, the front and nave of which -had fallen in and presented an appearance of indescribable chaos. Only -the tower, perforated by gun-fire and blackened by the smoke from some -burning joists, still remained standing, bearing by some miracle of -equilibrium, the slender stone spire with which it was crowned. With his -body leaning out of this spire was a peasant, waving his arms and -shouting to attract attention. - -The officers recognized Paul Delroze. - -Picking their way through the rubbish, our men climbed the staircase -that led to the platform of the tower. Here, heaped up against the -little door admitting to the spire, were the bodies of eight Germans; -and the door, which was demolished and had dropped crosswise, barred the -entrance in such a way that it had to be chopped to pieces before Paul -could be released. - -Toward the end of the afternoon, when it was manifest that the obstacles -to the pursuit of the enemy were too serious to be overcome, the colonel -embraced Corporal Delroze in front of the regiment mustered in the -square. - -"Let's speak of your reward first," he said. "I shall recommend you for -the military medal; and you will be sure to get it. And now, my lad, -tell your story." - -And Paul stood answering questions in the middle of the circle formed -around him by the officers and the non-commissioned officers of each -company. - -"Why, it's very simple, sir," he said. "We were being spied upon." - -"Obviously; but who was the spy and where was he?" - -"I learnt that by accident. Beside the position which we occupied this -morning, there was a village, was there not, with a church?" - -"Yes, but I had the village evacuated when I arrived; and there was no -one in the church." - -"If there was no one in the church, sir, why did the weather-vane point -the wind coming from the east, when it was blowing from the west? And -why, when we changed our position, was the vane pointed in our -direction?" - -"Are you sure of that?" - -"Yes, sir. And that was why, after obtaining your leave, I did not -hesitate to slip into the church and to enter the steeple as stealthily -as I could. I was not mistaken. There was a man there whom I managed to -overmaster, not without difficulty." - -"The scoundrel! A Frenchman?" - -"No, sir, a German dressed up as a peasant." - -"He shall be shot." - -"No, sir, please. I promised him his life." - -"Never!" - -"Well, you see, sir, I had to find out how he was keeping the enemy -informed." - -"Well?" - -"Oh, it was simple enough! The church has a clock, facing the north, of -which we could not see the dial, where we were. From the inside, our -friend worked the hands so that the big hand, resting by turns on three -or four figures, announced the exact distance at which we were from the -church, in the direction pointed by the vane. This is what I next did -myself; and the enemy at once, redirecting his fire by my indications, -began conscientiously to shell the beet-field." - -"He did," said the colonel, laughing. - -"All that remained for me to do was to move on to the other -observation-post, where the spy's messages were received. There I would -learn the essential details which the spy himself did not know; I mean, -where the enemy's batteries were hidden. I therefore ran to this place; -and it was only on arriving here that I saw those batteries and a whole -German brigade posted at the very foot of the church which did the duty -of signaling-station." - -"But that was a mad piece of recklessness! Didn't they fire on you?" - -"I had put on the spy's clothes, sir, _their_ spy's. I can speak German, -I knew the pass-word and only one of them knew the spy and that was the -officer on observation-duty. Without the least suspicion, the general -commanding the brigade sent me to him as soon as I told him that the -French had discovered me and that I had managed to escape them." - -"And you had the cheek . . . ?" - -"I had to, sir; and besides I held all the trump cards. The officer -suspected nothing; and, when I reached the platform from which he was -sending his signals, I had no difficulty in attacking him and reducing -him to silence. My business was done and I had only to give you the -signals agreed upon." - -"Only that! In the midst of six or seven thousand men!" - -"I had promised you, sir, and it was eleven o'clock. The platform had on -it all the apparatus required for sending day or night signals. Why -shouldn't I use it? I lit a rocket, followed by a second and a third and -then a fourth; and the battle commenced." - -"But those rockets were indications to draw our fire upon the very -steeple where you were! It was you we were firing on!" - -"Oh, I assure you, sir, one doesn't think of those things at such -moments! I welcomed the first shell that struck the church. And then the -enemy left me hardly any time for reflection. Half-a-dozen fellows at -once came climbing the tower. I accounted for some of them with my -revolver; but a second assault came and, later on, still another. I had -to take refuge behind the door that closes the spire. When they had -broken it down, it served me as a barricade; and, as I had the arms and -ammunition which I had taken from my first assailants and was -inaccessible and very nearly invisible, I found it easy to sustain a -regular siege." - -"While our seventy-fives were blazing away at you." - -"While our seventy-fives were releasing me, sir; for you can understand -that, once the church was destroyed and the nave in flames, no one dared -to venture up the tower. I had nothing to do, therefore, but wait -patiently for your arrival." - -Paul Delroze had told his story in the simplest way and as though it -concerned perfectly natural things. The colonel, after congratulating -him again, confirmed his promotion to the rank of sergeant and said: - -"Have you nothing to ask me?" - -"Yes, sir, I should like to put a few more questions to the German spy -whom I left behind me and, at the same time, to get back my uniform, -which I hid." - -"Very well, you shall dine here and we'll give you a bicycle -afterwards." - -Paul was back at the first church by seven o'clock in the evening. A -great disappointment awaited him. The spy had broken his bonds and fled. - -All Paul's searching, in the church and village, was useless. -Nevertheless, on one of the steps of the staircase, near the place where -he had flung himself upon the spy, he picked up the dagger with which -his adversary had tried to strike him. It was exactly similar to the -dagger which he had picked up in the grass, three weeks before, outside -the little gate in the Ornequin woods. It had the same three-cornered -blade, the same brown horn handle and, on the handle, the same four -letters: H, E, R, M. - -The spy and the woman who bore so strange a resemblance to Hermine -d'Andeville, his father's murderess, both made use of an identical -weapon. - - * * * * * - -Next day, the division to which Paul's regiment belonged continued the -offensive and entered Belgium after repulsing the enemy. But in the -evening the general received orders to fall back. - -The retreat began. Painful as it was to one and all, it was doubly so -perhaps to those of our troops which had been victorious at the start. -Paul and his comrades in the third company could not contain themselves -for rage and disappointment. During the half a day which they spent in -Belgium, they saw the ruins of a little town that had been destroyed by -the Germans, the bodies of eighty women who had been shot, old men hung -up by their feet, stacks of murdered children. And they had to retire -before those monsters! - -Some of the Belgian soldiers had attached themselves to the regiment; -and, with faces that still bore traces of horror at the infernal visions -which they had beheld, these men told of things beyond the conception of -the most vivid imagination. And our fellows had to retire. They had to -retire with hatred in their hearts and a mad desire for vengeance that -made their hands close fiercely on their rifles. - -And why retire? It was not a question of being defeated, because they -were falling back in good order, making sudden halts and delivering -violent counter-attacks upon the disconcerted enemy. But his numbers -overpowered all resistance. The wave of barbarians reformed itself. The -place of each thousand dead was taken by two thousand of the living. And -our men retired. - -One evening, Paul learnt one of the reasons for this retreat from a -week-old newspaper; and he was painfully affected by the news. On the -20th of August, Corvigny had been taken by assault, after some hours of -bombardment effected under the most inexplicable conditions, whereas the -stronghold was believed to be capable of holding out for at least some -days, which would have strengthened our operations against the left -flank of the Germans. - -So Corvigny had fallen; and the Chateau d'Ornequin, doubtless abandoned, -as Paul himself hoped, by Jerome and Rosalie, was now destroyed, -pillaged and sacked with the methodical thoroughness which the Huns -applied to their work of devastation. On this side, too, the furious -horde were crowding precipitately. - -Those were sinister days, at the end of August, the most tragic days -perhaps that France has ever passed through. Paris was threatened, a -dozen departments were invaded. Death's icy breath hung over our gallant -nation. - -It was on the morning of one of these days that Paul heard a cheerful -voice calling to him from a group of young soldiers behind him: - -"Paul, Paul! I've got my way at last! Isn't it a stroke of luck?" - -Those young soldiers were lads who had enlisted voluntarily and been -drafted into the regiment; and Paul at once recognized Elisabeth's -brother, Bernard d'Andeville. He had no time to think of the attitude -which he had best take up. His first impulse would have been to turn -away; but Bernard had seized his two hands and was pressing them with an -affectionate kindness which showed that the boy knew nothing as yet of -the breach between Paul and his wife. - -"Yes, it's myself, old chap," he declared gaily. "I may call you old -chap, mayn't I? It's myself and it takes your breath away, what? You're -thinking of a providential meeting, the sort of coincidence one never -sees: two brothers-in-law dropping into the same regiment. Well, it's -not that: it happened at my express request. I said to the authorities, -'I'm enlisting by way of a duty and pleasure combined,' or words to that -effect. 'But, as a crack athlete and a prize-winner in every gymnastic -and drill-club I ever joined, I want to be sent to the front straight -away and into the same regiment as my brother-in-law, Corporal Paul -Delroze.' And, as they couldn't do without my services, they packed me -off here. . . . Well? You don't look particularly delighted . . . ?" - -Paul was hardly listening. He said to himself: - -"This is the son of Hermine d'Andeville. The boy who is now touching me -is the son of the woman who killed . . ." - -But Bernard's face expressed such candor and such open-hearted pleasure -at seeing him that he said: - -"Yes, I am. Only you're so young!" - -"I? I'm quite ancient. Seventeen the day I enlisted." - -"But what did your father say?" - -"Dad gave me leave. But for that, of course, I shouldn't have given him -leave." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Why, he's enlisted, too." - -"At his age?" - -"Nonsense, he's quite juvenile. Fifty the day he enlisted! They found -him a job as interpreter with the British staff. All the family under -arms, you see. . . . Oh, I was forgetting, I've a letter for you from -Elisabeth!" - -Paul started. He had deliberately refrained from asking after his wife. -He now said, as he took the letter: - -"So she gave you this . . . ?" - -"No, she sent it to us from Ornequin." - -"From Ornequin? How can she have done that? Elisabeth left Ornequin on -the day of mobilization, in the evening. She was going to Chaumont, to -her aunt's." - -"Not at all. I went and said good-bye to our aunt: she hadn't heard from -Elisabeth since the beginning of the war. Besides, look at the -envelope: 'M. Paul Delroze, care of M. d'Andeville, Paris, etc.' And -it's post-marked Ornequin and Corvigny." - -Paul looked and stammered: - -"Yes, you're right; and I can read the date on the post-mark: 18 August. -The 18th of August . . . and Corvigny fell into the hands of the Germans -two days later, on the 20th. So Elisabeth was still there." - -"No, no," cried Bernard, "Elisabeth isn't a child! You surely don't -think she would have waited for the Huns, so close to the frontier! She -would have left the chateau at the first sound of firing. And that's -what she's telling you, I expect. Why don't you read her letter, Paul?" - -Paul, on his side, had no idea of what he was about to learn on reading -the letter; and he opened the envelope with a shudder. - -What Elisabeth wrote was: - - "_Paul_, - - "I cannot make up my mind to leave Ornequin. A duty - keeps me here in which I shall not fail, the duty of - clearing my mother's memory. Do understand me, Paul. - My mother remains the purest of creatures in my eyes. - The woman who nursed me in her arms, for whom my - father retains all his love, must not be even - suspected. But you yourself accuse her; and it is - against you that I wish to defend her. To compel you - to believe me, I shall find the proofs that are not - necessary to convince me. And it seems to me that - those proofs can only be found here. So I shall stay. - - "Jerome and Rosalie are also staying on, though the - enemy is said to be approaching. They have brave - hearts, both of them, and you have nothing to fear, as - I shall not be alone. - - ELISABETH DELROZE." - -Paul folded up the letter. He was very pale. - -Bernard asked: - -"She's gone, hasn't she?" - -"No, she's there." - -"But this is madness! What, with those beasts about! A lonely -country-house! . . . But look here, Paul, she must surely know the -terrible dangers that threaten her! . . . What can be keeping her there? -Oh, it's too dreadful to think of. . . ." - -Paul stood silent, with a drawn face and clenched fists. . . . - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE PEASANT-WOMAN AT CORVIGNY - - -Three weeks before, on hearing that war was declared, Paul had felt -rising within him the immediate resolution to get killed at all costs. -The tragedy of his life, the horror of his marriage with a woman whom he -still loved in his heart, the certainty which he had acquired at the -Chateau d'Ornequin: all this had affected him to such a degree that he -came to look upon death as a boon. To him, war represented, from the -first and without the least demur, death. However much he might admire -the solemnly impressive and magnificently consoling events of those -first few weeks--the perfect order of the mobilization, the enthusiasm -of the soldiers, the wonderful unity that prevailed in France, the -awakening of the souls of the nation--none of these great spectacles -attracted his attention. Deep down within himself he had determined that -he would perform acts of such kind that not even the most improbable -hazard could succeed in saving him. - -Thus he thought that he had found the desired occasion on the first day. -To overmaster the spy whose presence he suspected in the church steeple -and then to penetrate to the very heart of the enemy's lines, in order -to signal the position, meant going to certain death. He went bravely. -And, as he had a very clear sense of his mission, he fulfilled it with -as much prudence as courage. He was ready to die, but to die after -succeeding. And he found a strange unexpected joy in the act itself as -well as in the success that attended it. - -The discovery of the dagger employed by the spy made a great impression -on him. What connection did it establish between this man and the one -who had tried to stab him? What was the connection between these two and -the Comtesse d'Andeville, who had died sixteen years ago? And how, by -what invisible links, were they all three related to that same work of -treachery and spying of which Paul had surprised so many instances? - -But Elisabeth's letter, above all, came upon him as a very violent blow. -She was over there, amidst the bullets and the shells, the hot fighting -around the chateau, the madness and the fury of the victors, the -burning, the shooting, the torturing and atrocities! She was there, she -so young and beautiful, almost alone, with no one to defend her! And she -was there because he, Paul, had not had the grit to go back to her and -see her once more and take her away with him! - -These thoughts produced in Paul fits of depression from which he would -suddenly awaken to thrust himself in the path of some danger, pursuing -his mad enterprises to the end, come what might, with a quiet courage -and a fierce obstinacy that filled his comrades with both surprise and -admiration. And from that time onward he seemed to be seeking not so -much death as the unspeakable ecstasy which a man feels in defying it. - -Then came the 6th of September, the day of the unheard-of miracle when -our great general-in-chief, addressing his armies in words that will -never perish, at last ordered them to fling themselves upon the enemy. -The gallantly-borne but cruel retreat came to an end. Exhausted, -breathless, fighting against odds for days, with no time for sleep, with -no time to eat, marching only by force of prodigious efforts of which -they were not even conscious, unable to say why they did not lie down in -the road-side ditches to await death, such were the men who received the -word of command: - -"Halt! About face! And now have at the enemy!" - -And they faced about. Those dying men recovered their strength. From the -humblest to the most illustrious, each summoned up his will and fought -as though the safety of France depended upon him alone. There were as -many glorious heroes as there were soldiers. They were asked to conquer -or die. They conquered. - -Paul shone in the front rank of the fearless. He himself knew that what -he did and what he endured, what he tried to do and what he succeeded in -doing surpassed the limits of reality. On the 6th and the 7th and the -8th and again from the 11th to the 13th, despite his excessive fatigue, -despite the deprivations of sleep and food which it seemed impossible -for the human frame to resist, he had no other sensation than that of -advancing and again advancing--and always advancing. Whether in sunshine -or in shade, whether on the banks of the Marne or on the woody slopes of -the Argonne, whether north or east, when his division was sent to -reinforce the troops on the frontier, whether lying flat and creeping -along in the plowed fields or on his feet and charging with the bayonet, -he was always going forward and each step was a delivery and each step -was a conquest. - -Each step also increased the hatred in his heart. Oh, how right his -father had been to loathe those people! Paul now saw them at work. On -every side were stupid devastation and unreasoning destruction, on every -side arson, pillage and death, hostages shot, women murdered, bestially, -for the love of the thing. Churches, country-houses, mansions of the -rich and cabins of the poor: nothing remained. The very ruins had been -razed to the ground, the very corpses tortured. - -O the delight of defeating such an enemy! Though reduced to half its -full strength, Paul's regiment, released like a pack of hounds, never -ceased biting at the wild beast which it was hunting. The quarry seemed -more vicious and formidable the nearer it approached to the frontier; -and our men kept rushing at it in the mad hope of giving it the -death-stroke. - -One day Paul read on a sign-post at a cross-roads: - - Corvigny, 14 Kil. - Ornequin, 31 Kil. 400. - The Frontier, 33 Kil. 200. - -Corvigny! Ornequin! A thrill passed through his frame when he saw those -unexpected words. As a rule, absorbed as he was by the heat of the -conflict and by his private cares, he paid little attention to the names -of the places which he passed; and he learnt them only by chance. And -now suddenly he was within so short a distance of the Chateau -d'Ornequin! "Corvigny, 14 kilometers:" less than nine miles! . . . Were -the French troops making for Corvigny, for the little fortified place -which the Germans had taken by assault and taken under such strange -conditions? - -That day, they had been fighting since daylight against an enemy whose -resistance seemed to grow slacker and slacker. Paul, at the head of a -squad of men, was sent to the village of Bleville with orders to enter -it if the enemy had retired, but go no farther. And it was just beyond -the last houses of the village that he saw the sign-post. - -At the time, he was not quite easy in his mind. A Taube had flown over -the country a few minutes before. There was the possibility of an -ambush. - -"Let's go back to the village," he said. "We'll barricade ourselves -while we wait." - -But there was a sudden noise behind a wooded hill that interrupted the -road in the Corvigny direction, a noise that became more and more -definite, until Paul recognized the powerful throb of a motor, doubtless -a motor carrying a quick-firing gun. - -"Crouch down in the ditch," he cried to his men. "Hide yourselves in the -haystacks. Fix bayonets. And don't move any of you!" - -He had realized the danger of that motor's passing through the village, -plunging in the midst of his company, scattering panic and then making -off by some other way. - -He quickly climbed the split trunk of an old oak and took up his -position in the branches a few feet above the road. - -The motor soon came in sight. It was, as he expected, an armored car, -but one of the old pattern, which allowed the helmets and heads of the -men to show above the steel plating. - -It came along at a smart pace, ready to dart forward in case of alarm. -The men were stooping with bent backs. Paul counted half-a-dozen of -them. The barrels of two Maxim guns projected beyond the car. - -He put his rifle to his shoulder and took aim at the driver, a fat -Teuton with a scarlet face that seemed dyed with blood. Then, when the -moment came, he calmly fired. - -"Charge, lads!" he cried, as he scrambled down from his tree. - -But it was not even necessary to take the car by storm. The driver, -struck in the chest, had had the presence of mind to apply the brakes -and pull up. Seeing themselves surrounded, the Germans threw up their -hands: - -"_Kamerad! Kamerad!_" - -And one of them, flinging down his arms, leapt from the motor and came -running up to Paul: - -"An Alsatian, sergeant, an Alsatian from Strasburg! Ah, sergeant, many's -the day that I've been waiting for this moment!" - -While his men were taking the prisoners to the village, Paul hurriedly -questioned the Alsatian: - -"Where has the car come from?" - -"Corvigny." - -"Any of your people there?" - -"Very few. A rearguard of two hundred and fifty Badeners at the most." - -"And in the forts?" - -"About the same number. They didn't think it necessary to mend the -turrets and now they've been taken unprepared. They're hesitating -whether to try and make a stand or to fall back on the frontier; and -that's why we were sent to reconnoiter." - -"So we can go ahead?" - -"Yes, but at once, else they will receive powerful reinforcements, two -divisions." - -"When?" - -"To-morrow. They're to cross the frontier, to-morrow, about the middle -of the day." - -"By Jove! There's no time to be lost!" said Paul. - -While examining the guns and having the prisoners disarmed and searched, -Paul was considering the best measures to take, when one of his men, who -had stayed behind in the village, came and told him of the arrival of a -French detachment, with a lieutenant in command. - -Paul hastened to tell the officer what had happened. Events called for -immediate action. He offered to go on a scouting expedition in the -captured motor. - -"Very well," said the officer. "I'll occupy the village and arrange to -have the division informed as soon as possible." - -The car made off in the direction of Corvigny, with eight men packed -inside. Two of them, placed in charge of the quick-firing guns, studied -the mechanism. The Alsatian stood up, so as to show his helmet and -uniform clearly, and scanned the horizon on every side. - -All this was decided upon and done in the space of a few minutes, -without discussion and without delaying over the details of the -undertaking. - -"We must trust to luck," said Paul, taking his seat at the wheel. "Are -you ready to see the job through, boys?" - -"Yes; and further," said a voice which he recognized, just behind him. - -It was Bernard d'Andeville, Elisabeth's brother. Bernard belonged to the -9th company; and Paul had succeeded in avoiding him, since their first -meeting, or at least in not speaking to him. But he knew that the -youngster was fighting well. - -"Ah, so you're there?" he said. - -"In the flesh," said Bernard. "I came along with my lieutenant; and, -when I saw you getting into the motor and taking any one who turned up, -you can imagine how I jumped at the chance!" And he added, in a more -embarrassed tone, "The chance of doing a good stroke of work, under your -orders, and the chance of talking to you, Paul . . . for I've been -unlucky so far. . . . I even thought that . . . that you were not as -well-disposed to me as I hoped. . . ." - -"Nonsense," said Paul. "Only I was bothered. . . ." - -"You mean, about Elisabeth?" - -"Yes." - -"I see. All the same, that doesn't explain why there was something -between us, a sort of constraint . . ." - -At that moment, the Alsatian exclaimed: - -"Lie low there! . . . Uhlans ahead! . . ." - -A patrol came trotting down a cross-road, turning the corner of a wood. -He shouted to them, as the car passed: - -"Clear out, Kameraden! Fast as you can! The French are coming!" - -Paul took advantage of the incident not to answer his brother-in-law. He -had forced the pace; and the motor was now thundering along, scaling -the hills and shooting down them like a meteor. - -The enemy detachments became more numerous. The Alsatian called out to -them or else by means of signs incited them to beat an immediate -retreat. - -"It's the funniest thing to see," he said, laughing. "They're all -galloping behind us like mad." And he added, "I warn you, sergeant, that -at this rate we shall dash right into Corvigny. Is that what you want to -do?" - -"No," replied Paul, "we'll stop when the town's in sight." - -"And, if we're surrounded?" - -"By whom? In any case, these bands of fugitives won't be able to oppose -our return." - -Bernard d'Andeville spoke: - -"Paul," he said, "I don't believe you're thinking of returning." - -"You're quite right. Are you afraid?" - -"Oh, what an ugly word!" - -But presently Paul went on, in a gentler voice: - -"I'm sorry you came, Bernard." - -"Is the danger greater for me than for you and the others?" - -"No." - -"Then do me the honor not to be sorry." - -Still standing up and leaning over the sergeant, the Alsatian pointed -with his hand: - -"That spire straight ahead, behind the trees, is Corvigny. I calculate -that, by slanting up the hills on the left, we ought to be able to see -what's happening in the town." - -"We shall see much better by going inside," Paul remarked. "Only it's a -big risk . . . especially for you, Alsatian. If they take you prisoner, -they'll shoot you. Shall I put you down this side of Corvigny?" - -"You haven't studied my face, sergeant." - -The road was now running parallel with the railway. Soon, the first -houses of the outskirts came in sight. A few soldiers appeared. - -"Not a word to these," Paul ordered. "It won't do to startle them . . . -or they'll take us from behind at the critical moment." - -He recognized the station and saw that it was strongly held. Spiked -helmets were coming and going along the avenues that led to the town. - -"Forward!" cried Paul. "If there's any large body of troops, it can only -be in the square. Are the guns ready? And the rifles? See to mine for -me, Bernard. And, at the first signal, independent fire!" - -The motor rushed at full speed into the square. As he expected, there -were about a hundred men there, all massed in front of the church-steps, -near their stacked rifles. The church was a mere heap of ruins; and -almost all the houses in the square had been leveled to the ground by -the bombardment. - -The officers, standing on one side, cheered and waved their hands on -seeing the motor which they had sent out to reconnoiter and whose return -they seemed to be expecting before making their decision about the -defense of the town. There were a good many of them, their number no -doubt including some communication officers. A general stood a head and -shoulders above the rest. A number of cars were waiting some little -distance away. - -The street was paved with cobble-stones and there was no raised pavement -between it and the square. Paul followed it; but, when he was within -twenty yards of the officers, he gave a violent turn of the wheel and -the terrible machine made straight for the group, knocking them down and -running over them, slanted off slightly, so as to take the stacks of -rifles, and then plunged like an irresistible mass right into the middle -of the detachment, spreading death as it went, amid a mad, hustling -flight and yells of pain and terror. - -"Independent fire!" cried Paul, stopping the car. - -And the firing began from this impregnable blockhouse, which had -suddenly sprung up in the center of the square, accompanied by the -sinister crackle of the two Maxim guns. - -In five minutes, the square was strewn with killed and wounded men. The -general and several officers lay dead. The survivors took to their -heels. - -Paul gave the order to cease fire and took the car to the top of the -avenue that led to the station. The troops from the station were -hastening up, attracted by the shooting. A few volleys from the guns -dispersed them. - -Paul drove three times quickly round the square, to examine the -approaches. On every side the enemy was fleeing along the roads and -paths to the frontier. And on every hand the inhabitants of Corvigny -came out of their houses and gave vent to their delight. - -"Pick up and see to the wounded," Paul ordered. "And send for the -bell-ringer, or some one who understands about the bells. It's urgent!" - -An aged sacristan appeared. - -"The tocsin, old man, the tocsin for all you're worth! And, when you're -tired, have some one to take your place! The tocsin, without stopping -for a second!" - -This was the signal which Paul had agreed upon with the French -lieutenant, to announce to the division that the enterprise had -succeeded and that the troops were to advance. - -It was two o'clock. At five, the staff and a brigade had taken -possession of Corvigny and our seventy-fives were firing a few shells. -By ten o'clock in the evening, the rest of the division having come up -meantime, the Germans had been driven out of the Grand Jonas and the -Petit Jonas and were concentrating before the frontier. It was decided -to dislodge them at daybreak. - -"Paul," said Bernard to his brother-in-law, at the evening roll-call, "I -have something to tell you, something that puzzles me, a very queer -thing: you'll judge for yourself. Just now, I was walking down one of -the streets near the church when a woman spoke to me. I couldn't make -out her face or her dress at first, because it was almost dark, but she -seemed to be a peasant-woman from the sound of her wooden shoes on the -cobbles. 'Young man,' she said--and her way of expressing herself -surprised me a little in a peasant-woman--'Young man, you may be able to -tell me something I want to know.' I said I was at her service and she -began, 'It's like this: I live in a little village close by. I heard -just now that your army corps was here. So I came, because I wanted to -see a soldier who belonged to it, only I don't know the number of his -regiment. I believe he has been transferred, because I never get a -letter from him; and I dare say he has not had mine. Oh, if you only -happened to know him! He's such a good lad, such a gallant fellow.' I -asked her to tell me his name; and she answered, 'Delroze, Corporal Paul -Delroze.'" - -"What!" cried Paul. "Did she want me?" - -"Yes, Paul, and the coincidence struck me as so curious that I just gave -her the number of your regiment and your company, without telling her -that we were related. 'Good,' she said. 'And is the regiment at -Corvigny?' I said it had just arrived. 'And do you know Paul Delroze?' -'Only by name,' I answered. I can't tell you why I answered like that, -or why I continued the conversation so as not to let her guess my -surprise: 'He has been promoted to sergeant,' I said, 'and mentioned in -dispatches. That's how I come to have heard his name. Shall I find out -where he is and take you to him?' 'Not yet,' she said, 'not yet. I -should be too much upset.'" - -"What on earth did she mean?" - -"I can't imagine. It struck me as more and more suspicious. Here was a -woman looking for you eagerly and yet putting off the chance of seeing -you. I asked her if she was very much interested in you and she said -yes, that you were her son." - -"Her son!" - -"Up to then I am certain that she did not suspect for a second that I -was cross-examining her. But my astonishment was so great that she drew -back into the shadow, as though to put herself on the defensive. I -slipped my hand into my pocket, pulled out my little electric lamp, went -up to her, pressed the spring and flung the light full in her face. She -seemed disconcerted and stood for a moment without moving. Then she -quickly lowered a scarf which she wore over her head and, with a -strength which I should never have believed, struck me on the arm and -made me drop my lamp. Then came a second of absolute silence. I couldn't -make out where she was: whether in front of me, or on the right or the -left. There was no sound to tell me if she was there still or not. But I -understood presently, when, after picking up my lamp and switching on -the light again, I saw her two wooden shoes on the ground. She had -stepped out of them and run away on her stocking-feet. I hunted for her, -but couldn't find her. She had disappeared." - -Paul had listened to his brother-in-law's story with increasing -attention. - -"Then you saw her face?" he asked. - -"Oh, quite distinctly! A strong face, with black hair and eyebrows and a -look of great wickedness. . . . Her clothes were those of a -peasant-woman, but too clean and too carefully put on: I felt somehow -that they were a disguise." - -"About what age was she?" - -"Forty." - -"Would you know her again?" - -"Without a moment's hesitation." - -"What was the color of the scarf you mentioned?" - -"Black." - -"How was it fastened? In a knot?" - -"No, with a brooch." - -"A cameo?" - -"Yes, a large cameo set in gold. How did you know that?" - -Paul was silent for some time and then said: - -"I will show you to-morrow, in one of the rooms at Ornequin, a portrait -which should bear a striking resemblance to the woman who spoke to you, -the sort of resemblance that exists between two sisters perhaps . . . or -. . . or . . ." He took his brother-in-law by the arm and, leading him -along, continued, "Listen to me, Bernard. There are terrible things -around us, in the present and the past, things that affect my life and -Elisabeth's . . . and yours as well. Therefore, I am struggling in the -midst of a hideous obscurity in which enemies whom I do not know have -for twenty years been pursuing a scheme which I am quite unable to -understand. In the beginning of the struggle, my father died, the victim -of a murder. To-day it is I that am being threatened. My marriage with -your sister is shattered and nothing can bring us together again, just -as nothing will ever again allow you and me to be on those terms of -friendship and confidence which we had the right to hope for. Don't ask -me any questions, Bernard, and don't try to find out any more. One day, -perhaps--and I do not wish that day ever to arrive--you will know why I -begged for your silence." - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -WHAT PAUL SAW AT ORNEQUIN - - -Paul Delroze was awakened at dawn by the bugle-call. And, in the -artillery duel that now began, he at once recognized the sharp, dry -voice of the seventy-fives and the hoarse bark of the German -seventy-sevens. - -"Are you coming, Paul?" Bernard called from his room. "Coffee is served -downstairs." - -The brothers-in-law had found two little bedrooms over a publican's -shop. While they both did credit to a substantial breakfast, Paul told -Bernard the particulars of the occupation of Corvigny and Ornequin which -he had gathered on the evening before: - -"On Wednesday, the nineteenth of August, Corvigny, to the great -satisfaction of the inhabitants, still thought that it would be spared -the horrors of war. There was fighting in Alsace and outside Nancy, -there was fighting in Belgium; but it looked as if the German thrust -were neglecting the route of invasion offered by the valley of the -Liseron. The fact is that this road is a narrow one and apparently of -secondary importance. At Corvigny, a French brigade was busily pushing -forward the defense-works. The Grand Jonas and the Petit Jonas were -ready under their concrete cupolas. Our fellows were waiting." - -"And at Ornequin?" asked Bernard. - -"At Ornequin, we had a company of light infantry. The officers put up at -the house. This company, supported by a detachment of dragoons, -patrolled the frontier day and night. In case of alarm, the orders were -to inform the forts at once and to retreat fighting. The evening of -Wednesday was absolutely quiet. A dozen dragoons had galloped over the -frontier till they were in sight of the little German town of Ebrecourt. -There was not a movement of troops to be seen on that side, nor on the -railway-line that ends at Ebrecourt. The night also was peaceful. Not a -shot was fired. It is fully proved that at two o'clock in the morning -not a single German soldier had crossed the frontier. Well, at two -o'clock exactly, a violent explosion was heard, followed by four others -at close intervals. These explosions were due to the bursting of five -four-twenty shells which demolished straightway the three cupolas of the -Grand Jonas and the two cupolas of the Petit Jonas." - -"What do you mean? Corvigny is fifteen miles from the frontier; and the -four-twenties don't carry as far as that!" - -"That didn't prevent six more shells falling at Corvigny, all on the -church or in the square. And these six shells fell twenty minutes later, -that is to say, at the time when it was to be presumed that the alarm -would have been given and that the Corvigny garrison would have -assembled in the square. This was just what had happened; and you can -imagine the carnage that resulted." - -"I agree; but, once more, the frontier was fifteen miles away. That -distance must have given our troops time to form up again and to prepare -for the attacks foretold by the bombardment. They had at least three or -four hours before them." - -"They hadn't fifteen minutes. The bombardment was not over before the -assault began. Assault isn't the word: our troops, those at Corvigny as -well as those which hastened up from the two forts, were decimated and -routed, surrounded by the enemy, shot down or obliged to surrender, -before it was possible to organize any sort of resistance. It all -happened suddenly under the blinding glare of flash-lights erected no -one knew where or how. And the catastrophe was immediate. You may take -it that Corvigny was invested, attacked, captured and occupied by the -enemy, all in ten minutes." - -"But where did he come from? Where did he spring from?" - -"Nobody knows." - -"But the night-patrols on the frontier? The sentries? The company on -duty at Ornequin?" - -"Never heard of again. No one knows anything, not a word, not a rumor, -about those three hundred men whose business it was to keep watch and to -warn the others. You can reckon up the Corvigny garrison, with the -soldiers who escaped and the dead whom the inhabitants identified and -buried. But the three hundred light infantry of Ornequin disappeared -without leaving the shadow of a trace behind them, not a fugitive, not a -wounded man, not a corpse, nothing at all." - -"It seems incredible. Whom did you talk to?" - -"I saw ten people last night who, for a month, with no one to interfere -with them except a few soldiers of the Landsturm placed in charge of -Corvigny, have pursued a minute inquiry into all these problems, without -establishing so much as a plausible theory. One thing alone is certain: -the business was prepared long ago, down to the slightest detail. The -exact range had been taken of the forts, the cupolas, the church and the -square; and the siege-gun had been placed in position before and -accurately laid so that the eleven shells should strike the eleven -objects aimed at. That's all. The rest is mystery." - -"And what about the chateau? And Elisabeth?" - -Paul had risen from his seat. The bugles were sounding the morning -roll-call. The gun-fire was twice as intense as before. They both -started for the square; and Paul continued: - -"Here, too, the mystery is bewildering and perhaps worse. One of the -cross-roads that run through the fields between Corvigny and Ornequin -has been made a boundary by the enemy which no one here had the right to -overstep under pain of death." - -"Then Elisabeth . . . ?" - -"I don't know, I know nothing more. And it's terrible, this shadow of -death lying over everything, over every incident. It appears--I have not -been able to find out where the rumor originated--that the village of -Ornequin, near the chateau, no longer exists. It has been entirely -destroyed, more than that, annihilated; and its four hundred inhabitants -have been sent away into captivity. And then . . ." Paul shuddered and, -lowering his voice, went on, "And then . . . what did they do at the -chateau? You can see the house, you can still see it at a distance, with -its walls and turrets standing. But what happened behind those walls? -What has become of Elisabeth? For nearly four weeks she has been living -in the midst of those brutes, poor thing, exposed to every outrage! -. . ." - -The sun had hardly risen when they reached the square. Paul was sent for -by his colonel, who gave him the heartiest congratulations of the -general commanding the division and told him that his name had been -submitted for the military cross and for a commission as second -lieutenant and that he was to take command of his section from now. - -"That's all," said the colonel, laughing. "Unless you have any further -request to make." - -"I have two, sir." - -"Go ahead." - -"First, that my brother-in-law here, Bernard d'Andeville, may be at once -transferred to my section as corporal. He's deserved it." - -"Very well. And next?" - -"My second request is that presently, when we move towards the frontier, -my section may be sent to the Chateau d'Ornequin, which is on the direct -route." - -"You mean that it is to take part in the attack on the chateau?" - -"The attack?" echoed Paul, in alarm. "Why, the enemy is concentrated -along the frontier, four miles from the chateau!" - -"So it was believed, yesterday. In reality, the concentration took place -at the Chateau d'Ornequin, an excellent defensive position where the -enemy is hanging desperately while waiting for his reinforcements to -come up. The best proof is that he's answering our fire. Look at that -shell bursting over there . . . and, farther off, that shrapnel . . . -two . . . three of them. Those are the guns which located the batteries -which we have set up on the surrounding hills and which are now -peppering them like mad. They must have twenty guns there." - -"Then, in that case," stammered Paul, tortured by a horrible thought, -"in that case, that fire of our batteries is directed at . . ." - -"At them, of course. Our seventy-fives have been bombarding the Chateau -d'Ornequin for the last hour." - -Paul uttered an exclamation of horror: - -"Do you mean to say, sir, that we're bombarding Ornequin? . . ." - -And Bernard d'Andeville, standing beside him, repeated, in an -anguish-stricken voice: - -"Bombarding Ornequin? Oh, how awful!" - -The colonel asked, in surprise: - -"Do you know the place? Perhaps it belongs to you? Is that so? And are -any of your people there?" - -"Yes, sir, my wife." - -Paul was very pale. Though he made an effort to stand stock-still, in -order to master his emotion, his hands trembled a little and his chin -quivered. - -On the Grand Jonas, three pieces of heavy artillery began thundering, -three Rimailho guns, which had been hoisted into position by traction -engines. And this, added to the stubborn work of the seventy-fives, -assumed a terrible significance after Paul Delroze's words. The colonel -and the group of officers around him kept silence. The situation was one -of those in which the fatalities of war run riot in all their tragic -horror, stronger than the forces of nature themselves and, like them, -blind, unjust and implacable. There was nothing to be done. Not one of -those men would have dreamt of asking for the gun-fire to cease or to -slacken its activity. And Paul did not dream of it, either. He merely -said: - -"It looks as if the enemy's fire was slowing down. Perhaps they are -retreating. . . ." - -Three shells bursting at the far end of the town, behind the church, -belied this hope. The colonel shook his head: - -"Retreating? Not yet. The place is too important to them; they are -waiting for reinforcements and they won't give way until our regiments -take part in the game . . . which won't be long now." - -In fact, the order to advance was brought to the colonel a few moments -later. The regiment was to follow the road and deploy in the meadows on -the right. - -"Come along, gentlemen," he said to his officers. "Sergeant Delroze's -section will march in front. His objective will be the Chateau -d'Ornequin. There are two little short cuts. Take both of them." - -"Very well, sir." - -All Paul's sorrow and rage were intensified in a boundless need for -action; when he marched off with his men, he felt an inexhaustible -strength, felt capable of conquering the enemy's position all by -himself. He moved from one to the other with the untiring hurry of a -sheep-dog hustling his flock. He never ceased advising and encouraging -his men: - -"You're one of the plucky ones, old chap, I know, you're no shirker. -. . . Nor you either . . . Only you think too much about your skin, you -keep grumbling, when you ought to be cheerful. . . . Who's downhearted, -eh? There's a bit more collar-work to do and we're going to do it -without looking behind us, what?" - -Overhead, the shells followed their march in the air, whistling and -moaning and exploding till they formed a sort of canopy of steel and -grape-shot. - -"Duck your heads! Lie down flat!" cried Paul. - -He himself remained standing, indifferent to the flight of the enemy's -shells. But with what terror he listened to our own, those coming from -behind, from all the hills hard by, whizzing ahead of them to carry -destruction and death. Where would this one fall? And that one, where -would its murderous rain of bullets and splinters descend? - -He was obsessed with the vision of his wife, wounded, dying, and kept on -murmuring her name. For many days now, ever since the day when he learnt -that Elisabeth had refused to leave the Chateau d'Ornequin, he could not -think of her without a loving emotion that was never spoilt by any -impulse of revolt, any movement of anger. He no longer mingled the -detestable memories of the past with the charming reality of his love. -When he thought of the hated mother, the image of the daughter no longer -appeared before his mind. They were two creatures of a different race, -having no connection one with the other. Elisabeth, full of courage, -risking her life to obey a duty to which she attached a value greater -than her life, acquired in Paul's eyes a singular dignity. She was -indeed the woman whom he had loved and cherished, the woman whom he -loved still. - -Paul stopped. He had ventured with his men into an open piece of ground, -probably marked down in advance, which the enemy was now peppering with -shrapnel. A number of men were hit. - -"Halt!" he cried. "Flat on your stomachs, all of you!" - -He caught hold of Bernard: - -"Lie down, kid, can't you? Why expose yourself unnecessarily? . . . Stay -there. Don't move." - -He held him to the ground with a friendly pressure, keeping his arm -round Bernard's neck and speaking to him with gentleness, as though he -were trying to display to the brother all the affection that rose to his -heart for his dear Elisabeth. He forgot the harsh words which he had -addressed to Bernard and uttered quite different words, throbbing with a -fondness which he had denied the evening before: - -"Don't move, youngster. You see, I had no business to bring you with me -or to drag you into this hot place. I'm responsible for you and I'm not -going to have you hurt." - -The fire diminished in intensity. By crawling over the ground, the men -reached a double row of poplars which led them, by a gentle ascent, -towards a ridge intersected by a hollow road. Paul, on climbing the -slope which overlooked the Ornequin plateau, saw the ruins of the -village in the distance, with its shattered church, and, farther to the -left, a wilderness of trees and stones whence rose the walls of a -building. This was the chateau. On every side around were blazing -farmhouses, haystacks and barns. - -Behind the section, the French troops were scattering forward in all -directions. A battery had taken up its position in the shelter of a wood -close by and was firing incessantly. Paul could see the shells bursting -over the chateau and among the ruins. - -Unable to bear the sight any longer, he resumed his march at the head of -his section. The enemy's guns had ceased thundering, had doubtless been -reduced to silence. But, when they were well within two miles of -Ornequin, the bullets whistled around them and Paul saw a detachment of -Germans falling back upon the village, firing as they went. And the -seventy-fives and Rimailhos kept on growling. The din was terrible. - -Paul gripped Bernard by the arm and, in a quivering voice, said: - -"If anything happens to me, tell Elisabeth that I beg her to forgive me. -Do you understand? I beg her to forgive me." - -He was suddenly afraid that fate would not allow him to see his wife -again; and he realized that he had behaved to her with unpardonable -cruelty, deserting her as though she were guilty of a fault which she -had not committed and abandoning her to every form of distress and -torment. And he walked on briskly, followed at a distance by his men. - -But, at the spot where the short cut joins the high road, in sight of -the Liseron, a cyclist rode up to him. The colonel had ordered that the -section should wait for the main body of the regiment in order to make -an attack in full force. - -This was the cruelest test of all. Paul, a victim to ever-increasing -excitement, trembled with fever and rage. - -"Come, Paul," said Bernard, "don't work yourself into such a state! We -shall get there in time." - -"In time for what?" he retorted. "To find her dead or wounded? Or not to -find her at all? Oh, hang it, why can't our guns stop their damned row? -What are they shelling, now that the enemy's no longer replying? Dead -bodies and demolished houses! . . ." - -"What about the rearguard covering the German retreat?" - -"Well, aren't we here, the infantry? This is our job. All we have to do -is to send out our sharpshooters and follow up with a good -bayonet-charge. . . ." - -At last the section set out again, reinforced by the remainder of the -ninth company and under the command of the captain. A detachment of -hussars galloped by, pricking towards the village to cut off the -fugitives. The company swerved towards the chateau. - -Opposite them, all was silent as the grave. Was it a trap? Was there not -every reason to believe that enemy forces, strongly entrenched and -barricaded as these were, would prepare to offer a last resistance? And -yet there was nothing suspicious in the avenue of old oaks that led to -the front court, not a sign of life to be seen or heard. - -Paul and Bernard, still keeping ahead, with their fingers on the -trigger of their rifles, searched the dim light of the underwood with a -keen glance. Columns of smoke rose above the wall, which was now quite -near, yawning with breach upon breach. As they approached, they heard -moans, followed by the heart-rending sound of a death-rattle. It was the -German wounded. - -And suddenly the earth shook as though an inner upheaval had shattered -its crust and from the other side of the wall came a tremendous -explosion, or rather a series of explosions, like so many peals of -thunder. The air was darkened with a cloud of sand and dust which sent -forth all sorts of stones and rubbish. The enemy had blown up the -chateau. - -"That was meant for us, I expect," said Bernard. "We were to have been -blown up at the same time. They were out in their calculations." - -When they had passed the gate, the sight of the mined court-yard, of the -shattered turrets, of the demolished chateau, of the out-houses in -flames, of the dying in their last throes and the thickly stacked -corpses of the dead startled them into recoiling. - -"Forward! Forward!" shouted the colonel, galloping up. "There are troops -that must have made off across the park." - -Paul knew the road, which he had covered a few weeks earlier in such -tragic circumstances. He rushed across the lawns, among blocks of stone -and uprooted trees. But, as he passed in sight of a little lodge that -stood at the entrance to the wood, he stopped, nailed to the ground. -And Bernard and all the men stood stupefied, opening their mouths wide -with horror. - -Against the lodge, two corpses rested on their feet, fastened to rings -in the wall by a single chain wound round their waists. Their bodies -were bent over the chains and their arms hung to the ground. - -They were the corpses of a man and a woman. Paul recognized Jerome and -Rosalie. They had been shot. - -The chain continued beyond them. There was a third ring in the wall. The -plaster was stained with blood and there were visible traces of bullets. -There had been a third victim, without a doubt, and the body had been -removed. - -As he approached, Paul noticed a splinter of bomb-shell embedded in the -plaster. Around the hole thus formed, between the plaster and the -splinter, was a handful of fair hair with golden lights in it, hair torn -from the head of Elisabeth. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -H. E. R. M. - - -Paul's first feeling was an immense need of revenge, then and there, at -all costs, a need outweighing any sense of horror or despair. He gazed -around him, as though all the wounded men who lay dying in the park were -guilty of the monstrous crime: - -"The cowards!" he snarled. "The murderers!" - -"Are you sure," stammered Bernard, "are you sure it's Elisabeth's hair?" - -"Why, of course I am. They've shot her as they shot the two others. I -know them both: it's the keeper and his wife. Oh, the blackguards! -. . ." - -He raised the butt of his rifle over a German dragging himself in the -grass and was about to strike him, when the Colonel came up to him: - -"Hullo, Delroze, what are you doing? Where's your company?" - -"Oh, sir, if you only knew! . . ." - -He rushed up to his colonel. He looked like a madman and brandished his -rifle as he spoke: - -"They've killed her, sir, yes, they've shot my wife. . . . Look, against -the wall there, with the two people who were in her service. . . . -They've shot her. . . . She was twenty years old, sir. . . . Oh, we -must kill them all like dogs!" - -But Bernard was dragging him away: - -"Don't let us waste time, Paul; we can take our revenge on those who are -still fighting. . . . I hear firing over there. Some of them are -surrounded, I expect." - -Paul hardly knew what he was doing. He started running again, drunk with -rage and grief. - -Ten minutes later, he had rejoined his company and was crossing the open -space where his father had been stabbed. The chapel was in front of him. -Farther on, instead of the little door that used to be in the wall, a -great breach had been made, to admit the convoys of wagons for -provisioning the castle. Eight hundred yards beyond it, a violent -rifle-fire crackled over the fields, at the crossing of the road and the -highway. - -A few dozen retreating Germans were trying to force their way through -the hussars who had come by the high road. They were attacked from -behind by Paul's company, but succeeded in taking shelter in a square -patch of trees and copsewood, where they defended themselves with fierce -energy, retiring step by step and dropping one after the other. - -"Why don't they surrender?" muttered Paul, who was firing continually -and who was gradually being calmed by the heat of the fray. "You would -think they were trying to gain time." - -"Look over there!" said Bernard, in a husky voice. - -Under the trees, a motor-car had just come from the frontier, crammed -with German soldiers. Was it bringing reinforcements? No, the motor -turned almost in its own length; and between it and the last of the -combatants stood an officer in a long gray cloak, who, revolver in hand, -exhorted them to persevere in their resistance, while he himself -effected his retreat towards the car sent to his rescue. - -"Look, Paul," Bernard repeated, "look!" - -Paul was dumfounded. That officer to whom Bernard was calling his -attention was . . . but no, it could not be. And yet . . . - -"What do you mean to suggest, Bernard?" he asked. - -"It's the same face," muttered Bernard, "the same face as yesterday, you -know, Paul: the face of the woman who asked me those questions about -you, Paul." - -And Paul on his side recognized beyond the possibility of a doubt the -mysterious individual who had tried to kill him at the little door -leading out of the park, the creature who presented such an -unconceivable resemblance to his father's murderess, to the woman of the -portrait, to Hermine d'Andeville, Elisabeth's mother and Bernard's. - -Bernard raised his rifle to fire. - -"No, don't do that!" cried Paul, terrified at the movement. - -"Why not?" - -"Let's try and take him alive." - -He darted forward in a mad rush of hatred, but the officer had run to -the car. The German soldiers held out their hands and hoisted him into -their midst. Paul shot the one who was seated at the wheel. The officer -caught hold of it just as the car was about to strike a tree, changed -the direction and, skilfully guiding the car past the intervening -obstacles, drove it behind a bend in the ground and from there towards -the frontier. He was saved. - -As soon as he was beyond the range of the bullets, the German soldiers -who were still fighting surrendered. - -Paul was trembling with impotent fury. To him this individual -represented every imaginable form of evil; and, from the first to the -last minute of that long series of tragedies, murders, attempts at -spying and assassination, treacheries and deliberate shootings, all -conceived with the same object and the same spirit, that one figure -stood out as the very genius of crime. - -Nothing short of the creature's death would have appeased Paul's hatred. -It was he, the monster, Paul never entertained a doubt of it, who had -ordered Elisabeth to be shot. Elisabeth shot! Oh, the shame of it! Oh, -infernal vision that tormented him! . . . - -"Who is he?" he cried. "How can we find out? How can we get at him and -torture him and kill him?" - -"Question a prisoner," said Bernard. - -The captain considered it wiser to advance no farther and ordered the -company to fall back, so as to remain in touch with the remainder of the -regiment. Paul was told off specially to occupy the chateau with his -section and to take the prisoners there. - -He lost no time in questioning two or three non-commissioned officers -and some of the soldiers, as they went. But he could obtain nothing but -a mass of conflicting particulars from them, for they had arrived from -Corvigny the day before and had only spent the night at the chateau. -They did not even know the name of the officer in the flowing gray cloak -for whom so many of them had sacrificed their lives. He was called the -major; and that was all. - -"But still," Paul insisted, "he was your actual commanding officer?" - -"No. The leader of the rearguard detachment to which we belong is an -Oberleutnant who was wounded by the exploding of the mines, when we ran -away. We wanted to take him with us, but the major objected, leveling -his revolver at us, telling us to march in front of him and threatening -to shoot the first man who left him in the lurch. And just now, while we -were fighting, he stood ten paces behind us and kept threatening us with -his revolver to compel us to defend him. He shot three of us, as a -matter of fact." - -"He was reckoning on the assistance of the car, wasn't he?" - -"Yes; and also on reinforcements which were to save us all, so he said. -But only the car came; and it just saved him." - -"The Oberleutnant would know his name, of course. Is he badly wounded?" - -"He's got a broken leg. We made him comfortable in a lodge in the park." - -"The lodge against which your people put to death . . . those -civilians?" - -"Yes." - -They were nearing the lodge, a sort of little orangery into which the -plants were taken in winter. Rosalie and Jerome's bodies had been -removed. But the sinister chain was still hanging on the wall, fastened -to the three iron rings; and Paul once more beheld, with a shudder of -dread, the marks left by the bullet and the little splinter of -bomb-shell that kept Elisabeth's hair embedded in the plaster. - -A French bomb-shell! An added horror to the atrocity of the murder! - -It was therefore Paul who, on the day before, by capturing the armored -motor-car and effecting his daring raid on Corvigny, thus opening the -road to the French troops, had brought about the events that ended in -his wife's being murdered! The enemy had revenged himself for his -retreat by shooting the inhabitants of the chateau! Elisabeth fastened -to the wall by a chain had been riddled with bullets. And, by a hideous -irony, her corpse had received in addition the splinters of the first -shells which the French guns had fired before night-fall, from the top -of the hills near Corvigny. - -Paul pulled out the fragments of shell and removed the golden strands, -which he put away religiously. He and Bernard then entered the lodge, -where the Red Cross men had established a temporary ambulance. They -found the Oberleutnant lying on a truss of straw, well looked after and -able to answer questions. - -One point at once became quite clear, which was that the German troops -which had garrisoned the Chateau d'Ornequin had, so to speak, never been -in touch at all with those which, the day before, had retreated from -Corvigny and the adjoining forts. The garrison had been evacuated -immediately upon the arrival of the fighting troops, as though to avoid -any indiscretion on the subject of what had happened during the -occupation of the chateau. - -"At that moment," said the Oberleutnant, who belonged to the fighting -force, not to the garrison, "it was seven o'clock in the evening. Your -seventy-fives had already got the range of the chateau; and we found no -one there but a number of generals and other officers of superior rank. -Their baggage-wagons were leaving and their motors were ready to leave. -I was ordered to hold out as long as I could to blow up the chateau. The -major had made all the arrangements beforehand." - -"What was the major's name?" - -"I don't know. He was walking about with a young officer whom even the -generals addressed with respect. This same officer called me over to him -and charged me to obey the major 'as I would the emperor.'" - -"And who was the young officer?" - -"Prince Conrad." - -"A son of the Kaiser's?" - -"Yes. He left the chateau yesterday, late in the day." - -"And did the major spend the night here?" - -"I suppose so; at any rate, he was there this morning. We fired the -mines and left . . . a bit late, for I was wounded near this lodge . . . -near the wall. . . ." - -Paul mastered his emotion and said: - -"You mean, the wall against which your people shot three French -civilians, don't you?" - -"Yes." - -"When were they shot?" - -"About six o'clock in the afternoon, I believe, before we arrived from -Corvigny." - -"Who ordered them to be shot?" - -"The major." - -Paul felt the perspiration trickling from the top of his head down his -neck and forehead. It was as he thought: Elisabeth had been shot by the -orders of that nameless and more than mysterious individual whose face -was the very image of the face of Hermine d'Andeville, Elisabeth's -mother! - -He went on, in a trembling voice: - -"So there were three people shot? You're quite sure?" - -"Yes, the people of the chateau. They had been guilty of treachery." - -"A man and two women?" - -"Yes." - -"But there were only two bodies fastened to the wall of the lodge." - -"Yes, only two. The major had the lady of the house buried by Prince -Conrad's orders." - -"Where?" - -"He didn't tell me." - -"But why was she shot?" - -"I understand that she had got hold of some very important secrets." - -"They could have taken her away and kept her as a prisoner." - -"Certainly, but Prince Conrad was tired of her." - -Paul gave a start: - -"What's that you say?" - -The officer resumed, with a smile that might mean anything: - -"Well, damn it all, everybody knows Prince Conrad! He's the Don Juan of -the family. He'd been staying at the chateau for some weeks and had time -to make an impression, had he not? . . . And then . . . and then to get -tired. . . . Besides, the major maintained that the woman and her two -servants had tried to poison the prince. So you see . . ." - -He did not finish his sentence. Paul was bending over him and, with a -face distorted with rage, took him by the throat and shouted: - -"Another word, you dog, and I'll throttle the life out of you! Ah, you -can thank your stars that you're wounded! . . . If you weren't . . . if -you weren't . . . !" - -And Bernard, beside himself with rage, joined in: - -"Yes, you can think yourself lucky. As for your Prince Conrad, he's a -swine, let me tell you . . . and I mean to tell _him_ so to his face. -. . . He's a swine like all his beastly family and like the whole lot of -you! . . ." - -They left the Oberleutnant utterly dazed and unable to understand a word -of this sudden outburst. But, once outside, Paul had a fit of despair. -His nerves relaxed. All his anger and all his hatred were changed into -infinite depression. He could hardly contain his tears. - -"Come, Paul," exclaimed Bernard, "surely you don't believe a word -. . . ?" - -"No, no, and again no! But I can guess what happened. That drunken brute -of a prince must have tried to make eyes at Elisabeth and to take -advantage of his position. Just think! A woman, alone and defenseless: -that was a conquest worth making! What tortures the poor darling must -have undergone, what humiliations! . . . A daily struggle, with threats -and brutalities. . . . And, at the last moment, death, to punish her for -her resistance. . . ." - -"We shall avenge her, Paul," said Bernard, in a low voice. - -"We shall; but shall I ever forget that it was on my account, through my -fault, that she stayed here? I will explain what I mean later on; and -you will understand how hard and unjust I have been. . . . And yet -. . ." - -He stood gloomily thinking. He was haunted by the image of the major and -he repeated: - -"And yet . . . and yet . . . there are things that seem so strange. -. . ." - - * * * * * - -All that afternoon, French troops kept streaming in through the valley -of the Liseron and the village of Ornequin in order to resist any -counter-attack by the enemy. Paul's section was resting; and he and -Bernard took advantage of this to make a minute search in the park and -among the ruins of the chateau. But there was no clue to reveal to them -where Elisabeth's body lay hidden. - -At five o'clock, they gave Rosalie and Jerome a decent burial. Two -crosses were set up on a little mound strewn with flowers. An army -chaplain came and said the prayers for the dead. And Paul was moved to -tears when he knelt on the grave of those two faithful servants whose -devotion had been their undoing. - -Then also Paul promised to avenge. And his longing for vengeance evoked -in his mind, with almost painful intensity, the hated image of the -major, that image which had now become inseparable from his -recollections of the Comtesse d'Andeville. - -He led Bernard away from the grave and asked: - -"Are you sure that you were not mistaken in connecting the major and the -supposed peasant-woman who questioned you at Corvigny?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Then come with me. I told you of a woman's portrait. We will go and -look at it and you shall tell me what impression it makes upon you." - -Paul had noticed that that part of the castle which contained Hermine -d'Andeville's bedroom and boudoir had not been entirely demolished by -the explosion of either the mines or shells. It was possible that the -boudoir was still in its former condition. - -The staircase had been destroyed; and they had to clamber up the -shattered masonry in order to reach the first floor. Traces of the -corridor were visible here and there. All the doors were gone; and the -rooms presented an appearance of pitiful chaos. - -"It's here," said Paul, pointing to an open place between two pieces of -wall that remained standing as by a miracle. - -It was indeed Hermine d'Andeville's boudoir, shattered and dilapidated, -cracked from top to bottom and filled with plaster and rubbish, but -quite recognizable and containing all the furniture which Paul had -noticed on the evening of his marriage. The window-shutters darkened the -room partly, but there was enough light for Paul to see the whereabouts -of the wall opposite. And he at once exclaimed: - -"The portrait has been taken away!" - -It was a great disappointment to him and, at the same time, a proof of -the great importance which his enemy attached to the portrait, which -could only have been removed because it constituted an overwhelming -piece of evidence. - -"I assure you," said Bernard, "that this does not affect my opinion in -the least. There was no need to verify my conviction about the major and -that peasant-woman at Corvigny. Whose portrait was it?" - -"I told you, a woman." - -"What woman? Was it a picture which my father hung there, one of the -pictures of his collection?" - -"That was it," said Paul, welcoming the opportunity of throwing his -brother-in-law off the scent. - -Opening one of the shutters, he saw a mark on the wall of the -rectangular space which the picture used to occupy; and he was able to -perceive, from certain details, that the removal had been effected in a -hurry. For instance, the gilt scroll had dropped from the frame and was -lying on the floor. Paul picked it up stealthily so that Bernard should -not see the inscription engraved upon it. - -But, while he was examining the panel more attentively after Bernard had -unfastened the other shutter, he gave an exclamation. - -"What's the matter?" asked Bernard. - -"There . . . look . . . that signature on the wall . . . where the -picture was: a signature and a date." - -It was written in pencil; two lines across the white plaster, at a man's -height. The date, "Wednesday evening, 16 September, 1914," followed by -the signature: "Major Hermann." - -Major Hermann! Even before Paul was aware of it, his eyes had seized -upon a detail in which all the significance of those two lines of -writing was concentrated; and, while Bernard came forward to look in his -turn, he muttered, in boundless surprise: - -"Hermann! . . . Hermine! . . ." - -The two words were almost alike. Hermine began with the same letters as -the Christian or surname which the major had written, after his rank, on -the wall. Major Hermann! The Comtesse Hermine! H, E, R, M: The four -letters on the dagger with which Paul had nearly been killed! H, E, R, -M: the four letters on the dagger of the spy whom he had captured in the -church-steeple! - -Bernard said: - -"It looks to me like a woman's writing. But, if so. . . ." And he -continued thoughtfully, "If so . . . what conclusion are we to draw? -Either the peasant-woman and Major Hermann are one and the same person, -which means that the peasant-woman is a man or that the major is not, or -else we are dealing with two distinct persons, a woman and a man. I -believe that is how it is, in spite of the uncanny resemblance between -that man and that woman. For, after all, how can we suppose that the -same person can have written this signature yesterday evening, passed -through the French lines and spoken to me at Corvigny disguised as a -peasant-woman . . . and then be able to return here, disguised as a -German major, blow up the house, take to flight and, after killing some -of his own soldiers, make his escape in a motor-car?" - -Paul, absorbed by his thoughts, did not answer. Presently he went into -the adjoining room, which separated the boudoir from the set of rooms -which his wife had occupied. Of these nothing remained except debris. -But the room in between had not suffered so very much; and it was very -easy to see, by the wash-hand-stand and the condition of the bed, that -it was used as a bedroom and that some one had slept in it the night -before. - -On the table Paul found some German newspapers and a French one, dated -10 September, in which the _communique_ telling of the great victory of -the Marne was struck out with two great dashes in red pencil and -annotated with the word "Lies!" followed by the initial H. - -"We're in Major Hermann's room right enough," said Paul to Bernard. - -"And Major Hermann," Bernard declared, "burnt some compromising papers -last night. Look at that heap of ashes in the fire-place." He stooped -and picked up a few envelopes, a few half-burnt sheets of paper -containing consecutive words, nothing but incoherent sentences. On -turning his eyes to the bed, however, he saw under the bolster a parcel -of clothes hidden or perhaps forgotten in the hurry of departure. He -pulled them out and at once cried: "I say, just look at this!" - -"At what?" asked Paul, who was searching another part of the room. - -"These clothes, look, peasant clothes, the clothes I saw on the woman at -Corvigny. There's no mistaking them: they are the same brown color and -the same sort of serge stuff. And then here's the black-lace scarf which -I told you about. . . ." - -"What's that?" exclaimed Paul, running up to him. - -"Here, see for yourself, it's a scarf of sorts and not one of the -newest, either. How worn and torn it is! And the brooch I described to -you is still in it. Do you see?" - -Paul had noticed the brooch at once with the greatest horror. What a -terrible significance it lent to the discovery of the clothes in the -room occupied by Major Hermann, the room next to Hermine d'Andeville's -boudoir! The cameo was carved with a swan with its wings outspread and -was set in a gold snake with ruby eyes. Paul had known that cameo since -his early boyhood, from seeing it in the dress of the woman who killed -his father, and he knew it also because he had seen it again, with every -smallest detail reproduced, in the Comtesse Hermine's portrait. And now -he was finding the actual brooch, stuck in the black-lace scarf among -the Corvigny peasant-woman's clothes and left behind in Major Hermann's -room! - -"This completes the evidence," said Bernard. "The fact that the clothes -are here proves that the woman who asked me about you came back here -last night; but what is the connection between her and that officer who -is her living likeness? Is the person who questioned me about you the -same as the individual who ordered Elisabeth to be shot two hours -earlier? And who are these people? What band of murderers and spies have -we run up against?" - -"They are simply Germans," was Paul's reply. "To them spying and -murdering are natural and permissible forms of warfare . . . in a war, -mark you, which they began and are carrying on in the midst of a -perfectly peaceful period. I have told you so before, Bernard: we have -been the victims of war for nearly twenty years. My father's murder -opened the tragedy. And to-day we are mourning our poor Elisabeth. And -that is not the end of it." - -"Still," said Bernard, "he has taken to flight." - -"We shall see him again, be sure of that. If he doesn't come back, I -will go and find him. And, when that day comes. . . ." - -There were two easy-chairs in the room. Paul and Bernard resolved to -spend the night there and, without further delay, wrote their names on -the wall of the passage. Then Paul went back to his men, in order to see -that they were comfortably settled in the barns and out-houses that -remained standing. Here the soldier who served as his orderly, a decent -Auvergnat called Geriflour, told him that he had dug out two pairs of -sheets and a couple of clean mattresses from a little house next to the -guard-room and that the beds were ready. Paul accepted the offer for -Bernard and himself. It was arranged that Geriflour and one of his -companions should go to the chateau and sleep in the two easy-chairs. - -The night passed without any alarm. It was a feverish and sleepless -night for Paul, who was haunted by the thought of Elisabeth. In the -morning he fell into a heavy slumber, disturbed by nightmares. The -reveille woke him with a start. Bernard was waiting for him. - -The roll was called in the courtyard of the chateau. Paul noticed that -his orderly, Geriflour, and the other man were missing. - -"They must be asleep," he said to Bernard. "Let's go and shake them -awake." - -They went back, through the ruins, to the first floor and along the -demolished bedroom. In the room which Major Hermann had occupied they -found Private Geriflour, huddled on the bed, covered with blood, dead. -His friend was lying back in one of the chairs, also dead. There was no -disorder, no trace of a struggle around the bodies. The two soldiers -must have been killed in their sleep. - -Paul at once saw the weapon with which they had been murdered. It was a -dagger with the letters H, E, R, M. on the handle. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -ELISABETH'S DIARY - - -This double murder, following upon a series of tragic incidents all of -which were closely connected, was the climax to such an accumulation of -horrors and of shocking disasters that the two young men did not utter a -word or stir a limb. Death, whose breath they had already felt so often -on the battlefield, had never appeared to them under a more hateful or -forbidding guise. - -Death! They beheld it, not as an insidious disease that strikes at -hazard, but as a specter creeping in the shadow, watching its adversary, -choosing its moment and raising its arm with deliberate intention. And -this specter bore for them the very shape and features of Major Hermann. - -When Paul spoke at last, his voice had the dull, scared tone that seems -to summon up the evil powers of darkness: - -"He came last night. He came and, as we had written our names on the -wall, the names of Bernard d'Andeville and Paul Delroze which represent -the names of two enemies in his eyes, he took the opportunity to rid -himself of those two enemies. Persuaded that it was you and I who were -sleeping in this room, he struck . . . and those whom he struck were -poor Geriflour and his friend, who have died in our stead." - -After a long pause, he whispered: - -"They have died as my father died . . . and as Elisabeth died . . . and -the keeper also and his wife; and by the same hand, by the same hand, -Bernard, do you understand? . . . Yes, it's inadmissible, is it not? My -brain refuses to admit it. . . . And yet it is always the same hand that -holds the dagger . . . then and now." - -Bernard examined the dagger. At the sight of the four letters, he said: - -"That stands for Hermann, I suppose? Major Hermann?" - -"Yes," said Paul, eagerly. "Is it his real name, though? And who is he -actually? I don't know. But what I do know is that the criminal who -committed all those murders is the same who signs with these four -letters, H, E, R, M." - -After giving the alarm to the men of his section and sending to inform -the chaplain and the surgeons, Paul resolved to ask for a private -interview with his colonel and to tell him the whole of the secret -story, hoping that it might throw some light on the execution of -Elisabeth and the assassination of the two soldiers. But he learnt that -the colonel and his regiment were fighting on the other side of the -frontier and that the 3rd Company had been hurriedly sent for, all but -a detachment which was to remain at the chateau under Sergeant Delroze's -orders. Paul therefore made his own investigation with his men. - -It yielded nothing. There was no possibility of discovering the least -clue to the manner in which the murderer had made his way first into the -park, next into the ruins and lastly into the bedroom. As no civilian -had passed, were they to conclude that the perpetrator of the two crimes -was one of the privates of the 3rd company? Obviously not. And yet what -other theory was there to adopt? - -Nor did Paul discover anything to tell him of his wife's death or of the -place where she was buried. And this was the hardest trial of all. - -He encountered the same ignorance among the German wounded as among the -prisoners. They had all heard of the execution of a man and two women, -but they had all arrived after the execution and after the departure of -the troops that occupied the chateau. - -He went on to the village, thinking that they might know something -there; that the inhabitants had some news to tell of the lady of the -chateau, of the life she led, of her martyrdom and death. But Ornequin -was empty, with not a woman even, not an old man left in it. The enemy -must have sent all the inhabitants into Germany, doubtless from the -start, with the manifest object of destroying every witness to his -actions during the occupation and of creating a desert around the -chateau. - -Paul in this way devoted three days to the pursuit of fruitless -inquiries. - -"And yet," he said to Bernard, "Elisabeth cannot have disappeared -entirely. Even if I cannot find her grave, can I not find the least -trace of her existence? She lived here. She suffered here. I would give -anything for a relic of her." - -They had succeeded in fixing upon the exact site of the room in which -she used to sleep and even, in the midst of the ruins, the exact heap of -stones and plaster that remained of it. It was all mixed up with the -wreckage of the ground-floor rooms, into which the first-floor ceilings -had been precipitated; and it was in this chaos, under the pile of walls -and furniture reduced to dust and fragments, that one morning he picked -up a little broken mirror, followed by a tortoise-shell hair-brush, a -silver pen-knife and a set of scissors, all of which had belonged to -Elisabeth. - -But what affected him even more was the discovery of a thick diary, in -which he knew that his wife, before her marriage, used to note down her -expenses, the errands or visits that had to be remembered and, -occasionally, some more private details of her life. Now all that was -left of her diary was the binding, with the date, 1914, and the part -containing the entries for the first seven months of the year. All the -sheets for the last five months had been not torn out but removed -separately from the strings that fastened them to the binding. - -Paul at once thought to himself: - -"They were removed by Elisabeth, removed at her leisure, at a time when -there was no hurry and when she merely wished to use those pages for -writing on from day to day. What would she want to write? Just those -more personal notes which she used formerly to put down in her diary -between the entry of a disbursement and a receipt. And as there can have -been no accounts to keep since my departure and as her existence was -nothing but a hideous tragedy, there is no doubt that she confided her -distress to those pages, her complaints, possibly her shrinking from -me." - -That day, in Bernard's absence, Paul increased the thoroughness of his -search. He rummaged under every stone and in every hole. The broken -slabs of marble, the twisted lustres, the torn carpets, the beams -blackened by the flames, he lifted them all. He persisted for hours. He -divided the ruins into sections which he examined patiently in rotation; -and, when the ruins refused to answer his questions, he renewed his -minute investigations in the ground. - -His efforts were useless; and Paul knew that they were bound to be so. -Elisabeth must have attached far too much value to those pages not to -have either destroyed them or hidden them beyond the possibility of -discovery. Unless: - -"Unless," he said to himself, "they have been stolen from her. The major -must have kept a constant watch upon her. And, in that case, who knows?" - -An idea occurred to Paul's mind. After finding the peasant-woman's -clothes and black lace scarf, he had left them on the bed, attaching no -further importance to them; and he now asked himself if the major, on -the night when he had murdered the two soldiers, had not come with the -intention of fetching away the clothes, or at least the contents of -their pockets, which he had not been able to do because they were hidden -under Private Geriflour, who was sleeping on the top of them. Now Paul -seemed to remember that, when unfolding that peasant's skirt and bodice, -he had noticed a rustling of paper in one of the pockets. Was it not -reasonable to conclude that this was Elisabeth's diary, which had been -discovered and stolen by Major Hermann? - -Paul hastened to the room in which the murders had been committed, -snatched up the clothes and looked through them: - -"Ah," he at once exclaimed, with genuine delight, "here they are!" - -There was a large, yellow envelope filled with the pages removed from -the diary. These were crumpled and here and there torn; and Paul saw at -a glance that the pages corresponded only with the months of August and -September and that even some days in each of these months were missing. - -And he saw Elisabeth's handwriting. - -It was not a full or detailed diary. It consisted merely of notes, poor -little notes in which a bruised heart found an outlet. At times, when -they ran to greater length, an extra page had been added. The notes had -been jotted down by day or night, anyhow, in ink and pencil; they were -sometimes hardly legible; and they gave the impression of a trembling -hand, of eyes veiled with tears and of a mind crazed with suffering. - -Paul was moved to the very depths of his being. He was alone and he -read: - - - "_Sunday, 2 August._ - - "He ought not to have written me that letter. It is - too cruel. And why does he suggest that I should leave - Ornequin? The war? Does he think that, because there - is a chance of war, I shall not have the courage to - stay here and do my duty? How little he knows me! Then - he must either think me a coward or believe me capable - of suspecting my poor mother! . . . Paul, dear Paul, - you ought not to have left me. . . . - - - "_Monday, 3 August._ - - "Jerome and Rosalie have been kinder and more - thoughtful than ever, now that the servants are gone. - Rosalie begged and prayed that I should go away, too. - - "'And what about yourselves, Rosalie?' I said. 'Will - you go?' - - "'Oh, we're people who don't matter, we have nothing - to fear! Besides, our place is here.' - - "I said that so was mine; but I saw that she could not - understand. - - "Jerome, when I meet him, shakes his head and looks at - me sadly. - - - "_Tuesday, 4 August._ - - "I have not the least doubt of what my duty is. I - would rather die than turn my back on it. But how am I - to fulfil that duty and get at the truth? I am full of - courage; and yet I am always crying, as though I had - nothing better to do. The fact is that I am always - thinking of Paul. Where is he? What has become of him? - When Jerome told me this morning that war was - declared, I thought that I should faint. So Paul is - going to fight. He will be wounded perhaps. He may be - killed. God knows if my true place is not somewhere - near him, in a town close to where he is fighting! - What have I to hope for in staying here? My duty to my - mother, yes, I know. Ah, mother, I beseech your - forgiveness . . . but, you see, I love my husband and - I am so afraid of anything happening to him! . . . - - - "_Thursday, 6 August._ - - "Still crying. I grow unhappier every day. But I feel - that, even if I became still more so, I would not - desist. Besides, how can I go to him when he does not - want to have anything more to do with me and does not - even write? Love me? Why, he loathes me! I am the - daughter of a woman whom he hates above all things in - the world. How unspeakably horrible! If he thinks like - that of my mother and if I fail in my task, we shall - never see each other again! That is the life I have - before me. - - - "_Friday, 7 August._ - - "I have made Jerome and Rosalie tell me all about - mother. They only knew her for a few weeks, but they - remember her quite well; and what they said made me - feel so happy! She was so good, it seems, and so - pretty; everybody worshiped her. - - "'She was not always very cheerful,' said Rosalie. 'I - don't know if it was her illness already affecting her - spirits, but there was something about her, when she - smiled, that went to one's heart.' - - "My poor, darling mother! - - - "_Saturday, 8 August._ - - "We heard the guns this morning, a long way off. They - are fighting 25 miles away. - - "Some French soldiers have arrived. I had seen some of - them pretty often from the terrace, marching down the - Liseron Valley. But these are going to stay at the - house. The captain made his apologies. So as not to - inconvenience me, he and his lieutenants will sleep - and have their meals in the lodge where Jerome and - Rosalie used to live. - - - "_Sunday, 9 August._ - - "Still no news of Paul. I have given up trying to - write to him either. I don't want him to hear from me - until I have all the proofs. But what am I to do? How - can I get proofs of something that happened seventeen - years ago? Hunt about, think and reflect as I may, I - can find nothing. - - - "_Monday, 10 August._ - - "The guns never ceased booming in the distance. - Nevertheless, the captain tells me that there is - nothing to make one expect an attack by the enemy on - this side. - - - "_Tuesday, 11 August._ - - "A sentry posted in the woods, near the little door - leading out of the estate, has just been - killed--stabbed with a knife. They think that he must - have been trying to stop a man who wanted to get out - of the park. But how did the man get in? - - - "_Wednesday, 12 August._ - - "What can be happening? Here is something that has - made a great impression on me and seems impossible to - understand. There are other things besides which are - just as perplexing, though I can't say why. I am much - astonished that the captain and all his soldiers whom - I meet appear so indifferent and should even be able - to make jokes among themselves. I feel the sort of - depression that comes over one when a storm is at - hand. There must be something wrong with my nerves. - - "Well, this morning. . . ." - -Paul stopped reading. The lower portion of the page containing the last -few lines and the whole of the next page were torn out. It looked as if -the major, after stealing Elisabeth's diary, had, for reasons best known -to himself, removed the pages in which she set forth a certain incident. - -The diary continued: - - - "_Friday, 14 August._ - - "I felt I must tell the captain. I took him to the - dead tree covered with ivy and asked him to lie down - on the ground and listen. He did so very patiently and - attentively. But he heard nothing and ended by saying: - - "'You see, madame, that everything is absolutely - normal.' - - "'I assure you,' I answered, 'that two days ago there - was a confused sound from this tree, just at this - spot. And it lasted for several minutes.' - - "He replied, smiling as he spoke: - - "'We could easily have the tree cut down. But don't - you think, madame, that in the state of nervous - tension in which we all are we are liable to make - mistakes; that we are subject to hallucinations? For, - after all, where could the sound come from?' - - "Of course, he was right. And yet I had heard and seen - for myself. . . . - - - "_Saturday, 15 August._ - - "Yesterday, two German officers were brought in and - were locked up in the wash-house, at the end of the - yard. This morning, there was nothing in the - wash-house but their uniforms. One can understand - their breaking open the door. But the captain has - found out that they made their escape in French - uniforms and that they passed the sentries, saying - that they had been sent to Corvigny. - - "Who can have supplied them with those uniforms? - Besides, they had to know the password: who can have - given them that? - - "It appears that a peasant woman called several days - in succession with eggs and milk, a woman rather too - well-dressed for her station, and that she hasn't been - here to-day. But there is nothing to prove her - complicity. - - - "_Sunday, 16 August._ - - "The captain has been strongly urging me to go away. - He is no longer cheerful. He seems very much - preoccupied: - - "'We are surrounded by spies,' he said. 'And there is - every sign of the possibility of a speedy attack. Not - a big attack, intended to force a way through to - Corvigny, but an attempt to take the chateau by - surprise. It is my duty to warn you, madame, that we - may be compelled at any moment to fall back on - Corvigny and that it would be most imprudent for you - to stay.' - - "I answered that nothing would change my resolution. - Jerome and Rosalie also implored me to leave. But what - is the good? I intend to remain." - -Once again Paul stopped. There was a page missing in this section of the -diary; and the next page, the one headed 18 August, was torn at the top -and the bottom and contained only a fragment of what Elisabeth had -written on that day: - - ". . . and that is why I have not spoken of it in the - letter which I have just sent to Paul. He will know - that I am staying on and the reasons for my decision; - but he must not know of my hopes. - - "Those hopes are still so vague and built on so - insignificant a detail. Still, I feel overjoyed. I do - not realize the meaning of that detail, but I feel its - importance. The captain is hurrying about, increasing - the patrols; the soldiers are polishing their arms and - crying out for the battle; the enemy may be taking up - his quarters at Ebrecourt, as they say: what do I - care? I have only one thought: have I found the key? - Am I on the right road? Let me think. . . ." - -The page was torn here, at the place where Elisabeth was about to -explain things exactly. Was this a precautionary measure on Major -Hermann's part? No doubt; but why? - -The first part of the page headed 19 August was likewise torn. The -nineteenth was the day before t on which the Germans had carried -Ornequin, Corvigny and the whole district by assault. What had Elisabeth -written on that Wednesday afternoon? What had she discovered? What was -preparing in the darkness? - -Paul felt a dread at his heart. He remembered that the first gunshot had -thundered over Corvigny at two o'clock in the morning on Thursday and it -was with an anxious mind that he read, on the second half of the page: - - - "_11 p. m._ - - "I have got up and opened my window. Dogs are barking - on every side. They answer one another, stop, seem to - be listening and then begin howling again as I have - never heard them do before. When they cease, the - silence becomes impressive and I listen in my turn to - try and catch the indistinct sounds that keep them - awake. - - "Those sounds seem to my ears also to exist. It is - something different from the rustling of the leaves. - It has nothing to do with the ordinary interruption to - the dead silence of the night. It comes from I can't - tell where; and the impression it makes on me is so - powerful that I ask myself at the same time whether I - am just listening to the beating of my heart or - whether I am hearing what might be the distant tramp - of a marching army. - - "Oh, I must be mad! A marching army! And our outposts - on the frontier? And our sentries all around the - chateau? Why, there would be fighting, firing! . . . - - - "_1 a. m._ - - "I did not stir from the window. The dogs were no - longer barking. Everything was asleep. And suddenly I - saw some one come from under the trees and go across - the lawn. I at first imagined it was one of our - soldiers. But, when whoever it was passed under my - window, there was just enough light in the sky for me - to make out a woman's figure. I thought for a moment - of Rosalie. But no, the figure was taller and moved - with a lighter and quicker step. - - "I was on the point of waking Jerome and giving the - alarm. I did not, however. The figure had disappeared - in the direction of the terrace. And all at once there - came the cry of a bird, which struck me as strange. - This was followed by a light that darted into the sky, - like a shooting star springing from the ground. - - "After that, nothing. Silence, general restfulness. - Nothing more. And yet I dare not go back to bed. I am - frightened, without knowing why. All sorts of dangers - seem to come rushing from every corner of the horizon. - They draw closer, they surround me, they hem me in, - they suffocate me, crush me, I can't breathe. I'm - frightened . . . I'm frightened. . . ." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -A SPRIG OF EMPIRE - - -Paul clutched with convulsive fingers the heart-breaking diary to which -Elisabeth had confided her anguish: - -"The poor angel!" he thought. "What she must have gone through! And this -is only the beginning of the road that led to her death. . . ." - -He dreaded reading on. The hours of torture were near at hand, menacing -and implacable, and he would have liked to call out to Elisabeth: - -"Go away, go away! Don't defy Fate! I have forgotten the past. I love -you." - -It was too late. He himself, through his cruelty, had condemned her to -suffer; and he must go on to the bitter end and witness every station of -the Calvary of which he knew the last, terrifying stage. - -He hastily turned the pages. There were first three blank leaves, those -dated 20, 21 and 22 August: days of confusion during which she had been -unable to write. The pages of the 23rd and 24th were missing. These no -doubt recounted what had happened and contained revelations concerning -the inexplicable invasion. - -The diary began again at the middle of a torn page, the page belonging -to Tuesday the 25th: - - "'Yes, Rosalie, I feel quite well and I thank you for - looking after me so attentively.' - - "'Then there's no more fever?' - - "'No, Rosalie, it's gone.' - - "'You said the same thing yesterday, ma'am, and the - fever came back . . . perhaps because of that visit. - . . . But the visit won't be to-day . . . it's not - till to-morrow. . . . I was told to let you know, - ma'am. . . . At 5 o'clock to-morrow. . . .' - - "I made no answer. What is the use of rebelling? None - of the humiliating words that I shall have to hear - will hurt me more than what lies before my eyes: the - lawn invaded, horses picketed all over it, baggage - wagons and caissons in the walks, half the trees - felled, officers sprawling on the grass, drinking and - singing, and a German flag flapping from the balcony - of my window, just in front of me. Oh, the wretches! - - "I close my eyes so as not to see. And that makes it - more horrible still. . . . Oh, the memory of that - night . . . and, in the morning, when the sun rose, - the sight of all those dead bodies! Some of the poor - fellows were still alive, with those monsters dancing - round them; and I could hear the cries of the dying - men asking to be put out of their misery. - - "And then. . . . But I won't think of it or think of - anything that can destroy my courage and my hope. - . . . - - "Paul, I always have you in my mind as I write my - diary. Something tells me that you will read it if - anything happens to me; and so I must have strength to - go on with it and to keep you informed from day to - day. Perhaps you can already understand from my story - what to me still seems very obscure. What is the - connection between the past and the present, between - the murder of long ago and the incomprehensible attack - of the other night? I don't know. I have told you the - facts in detail and also my theories. You will draw - your conclusions and follow up the truth to the end. - - - "_Wednesday, 26 August._ - - "There is a great deal of noise in the chateau. People - are moving about everywhere, especially in the rooms - above my bedroom. An hour ago, half a dozen motor vans - and the same number of motor cars drove onto the lawn. - The vans were empty. Two or three ladies sprang out of - each of the cars, German women, waving their hands and - laughing noisily. The officers ran up to welcome them; - and there were loud expressions of delight. Then they - all went to the house. What do they want? - - "But I hear footsteps in the passage. . . . It is 5 - o'clock. . . . Somebody is knocking at the door. . . . - - * * * * * - - "There were five of them: he first and four officers - who kept bowing to him obsequiously. He said to them, - in a formal tone: - - "'Attention, gentlemen. . . . I order you not to touch - anything in this room or in the other rooms reserved - for madame. As for the rest, except in the two big - drawing-rooms, it is yours. Keep anything here that - you want and take away what you please. It is war and - the law of war.' - - "He pronounced those words, 'The law of war,' in a - tone of fatuous conviction and repeated: - - "'As for madame's private apartments, not a thing is - to be moved. Do you understand? I know what is - becoming.' - - "He looked at me as though to say: - - "'What do you think of that? There's chivalry for you! - I could take it all, if I liked; but I'm a German and, - as such, I know what's becoming.' - - "He seemed to expect me to thank him. I said: - - "'Is this the pillage beginning? That explains the - empty motor vans.' - - "'You don't pillage what belongs to you by the law of - war,' he answered. - - "'I see. And the law of war does not extend to the - furniture and pictures in the drawing-rooms?' - - "He turned crimson. Then I began to laugh: - - "'I follow you,' I said. 'That's your share. Well - chosen. Nothing but rare and valuable things. The - refuse your servants can divide among them.' - - "The officers turned round furiously. He became redder - still. He had a face that was quite round, hair, which - was too light, plastered down with grease and divided - in the middle by a faultless parting. His forehead - was low; and I was able to guess the effort going on - behind it, to find a repartee. At last he came up to - me and, in a voice of triumph, said: - - "'The French have been beaten at Charleroi, beaten at - Morange, beaten everywhere. They are retreating all - along the line. The upshot of the war is settled.' - - "Violent though my grief was, I did not wince. I - whispered: - - "'You low blackguard!' - - "He staggered. His companions caught what I said; and - I saw one put his hand on his sword-hilt. But what - would he himself do? What would he say? I could feel - that he was greatly embarrassed and that I had wounded - his self-esteem. - - "'Madame,' he said, 'I daresay you don't know who I - am?' - - "'Oh, yes!' I answered. 'You are Prince Conrad, a son - of the Kaiser's. And what then?' - - "He made a fresh attempt at dignity. He drew himself - up. I expected threats and words to express his anger; - but no, his reply was a burst of laughter, the - affected laughter of a high and mighty lord, too - indifferent, too disdainful to take offense, too - intelligent to lose his temper. - - "'The dear little Frenchwoman! Isn't she charming, - gentlemen? Did you hear what she said? The - impertinence of her! There's your true Parisian, - gentlemen, with all her roguish grace.' - - "And, making me a great bow, with not another word, he - stalked away, joking as he went: - - "'Such a dear little Frenchwoman! Ah, gentlemen, those - little Frenchwomen! . . .' - - * * * * * - - "The vans were at work all day, going off to the - frontier laden with booty. It was my poor father's - wedding present to us, all his collections so - patiently and fondly brought together; it was the dear - setting in which Paul and I were to have lived. What a - wrench the parting means to me! - - "The war news is bad! I cried a great deal during the - day. - - "Prince Conrad came. I had to receive him, for he sent - me word by Rosalie that, if I refused to see him, the - inhabitants of Ornequin would suffer the - consequences." - -Here Elisabeth again broke off her diary. Two days later, on the 29th, -she went on: - - "He came yesterday. To-day also. He tries to appear - witty and cultured. He talks literature and music, - Goethe, Wagner and so on. . . . I leave him to do his - own talking, however; and this throws him in such a - state of fury that he ended by exclaiming: - - "'Can't you answer? It's no disgrace, even for a - Frenchwoman, to talk to Prince Conrad of Prussia!' - - "'A woman doesn't talk to her gaoler.' - - "He protested briskly: - - "'But, dash it all, you're not in prison!' - - "'Can I leave the chateau?' - - "'You can walk about . . . in the grounds. . . .' - - "'Between four walls, therefore, like a prisoner.' - - "'Well, what do you want to do?' - - "'To go away from here and live . . . wherever you - tell me to: at Corvigny, for instance.' - - "'That is to say, away from me!' - - "As I did not answer, he bent forward a little and - continued, in a low voice: - - "'You hate me, don't you? Oh, I'm quite aware of it! - I've made a study of women. Only, it's Prince Conrad - whom you hate, isn't it? It's the German, the - conqueror. For, after all, there's no reason why you - should dislike the man himself. . . . And, at this - moment, it's the man who is in question, who is trying - to please you . . . do you understand? . . . So. - . . .' - - "I had risen to my feet and faced him. I did not speak - a single word; but he must have seen in my eyes so - great an expression of disgust that he stopped in the - middle of his sentence, looking absolutely stupid. - Then, his nature getting the better of him, he shook - his fist at me, like a common fellow, and went off - slamming the door and muttering threats. . . ." - -The next two pages of the diary were missing. Paul was gray in the face. -He had never suffered to such an extent as this. It seemed to him as -though his poor dear Elisabeth were still alive before his eyes and -feeling his eyes upon her. And nothing could have upset him more than -the cry of distress and love which marked the page headed: - - - _1 September._ - - "Paul, my own Paul, have no fear. Yes, I tore up those - two pages because I did not wish you ever to know such - revolting things. But that will not estrange you from - me, will it? Because a savage dared to insult me, that - is no reason, surely, why I should not be worthy of - your love? Oh, the things he said to me, Paul, only - yesterday: his offensive remarks, his hateful threats, - his even more infamous promises . . . and then his - rage! . . . No, I will not repeat them to you. In - making a confidant of this diary, I meant to confide - to you my daily acts and thoughts. I believed that I - was only writing down the evidence of my grief. But - this is something different; and I have not the - courage. . . . Forgive my silence. It will be enough - for you to know the offense, so that you may avenge me - later. Ask me no more. . . ." - -And, pursuing this intention, Elisabeth now ceased to describe Prince -Conrad's daily visits in detail; but it was easy to perceive from her -narrative that the enemy persisted in hovering round her. It consisted -of brief notes in which she no longer let herself go as before, notes -which she jotted down at random, marking the days herself, without -troubling about the printed headings. - -Paul trembled as he read on. And fresh revelations aggravated his dread: - - - "_Thursday._ - - "Rosalie asks them the news every morning. The French - retreat is continuing. They even say that it has - developed into a rout and that Paris has been - abandoned. The government has fled. We are done for. - - - "_Seven o'clock in the evening._ - - "He is walking under my windows as usual. He has with - him a woman whom I have already seen many times at a - distance and who always wears a great peasant's cloak - and a lace scarf which hides her face. But, as a rule, - when he walks on the lawn he is accompanied by an - officer whom they call the major. This man also keeps - his head concealed, by turning up the collar of his - gray cloak. - - - "_Friday._ - - "The soldiers are dancing on the lawn, while their - band plays German national hymns and the bells of - Ornequin are kept ringing with all their might. They - are celebrating the entrance of their troops into - Paris. It must be true, I fear! Their joy is the best - proof of the truth. - - - "_Saturday._ - - "Between my rooms and the boudoir where mother's - portrait used to hang is the room that was mother's - bedroom. This is now occupied by the major. He is an - intimate friend of the prince and an important person, - so they say. The soldiers know him only as Major - Hermann. He does not humble himself in the prince's - presence as the other officers do. On the contrary, he - seems to address him with a certain familiarity. - - "At this minute they are walking side by side on the - gravel path. The prince is leaning on Major Hermann's - arm. I feel sure that they are talking about me and - that they are not at one. It looks almost as if Major - Hermann were angry. - - - "_Ten o'clock in the morning._ - - "I was right. Rosalie tells me that they had a violent - scene. - - - "_Tuesday, 8 September._ - - "There is something strange in the behavior of all of - them. The prince, the major and the other officers - appear to be nervous about something. The soldiers - have ceased singing. There are sounds of quarreling. - Can things be turning in our favor?" - - - "_Thursday._ - - "The excitement is increasing. It seems that couriers - keep on arriving at every moment. The officers have - sent part of their baggage into Germany. I am full of - hope. But, on the other hand. . . . - - "Oh, my dear Paul, if you knew the torture those - visits cause me! . . . He is no longer the bland and - honey-mouthed man of the early days. He has thrown off - the mask. . . . But, no, no, I will not speak of that! - . . . - - - "_Friday._ - - "The whole of the village of Ornequin has been packed - off to Germany. They don't want a single witness to - remain of what happened during the awful night which I - described to you. - - - "_Sunday evening._ - - "They are defeated and retreating far from Paris. He - confessed as much, grinding his teeth and uttering - threats against me as he spoke. I am the hostage on - whom they are revenging themselves. . . . - - - "_Tuesday._ - - "Paul, if ever you meet him in battle, kill him like a - dog. But do those people fight? Oh, I don't know what - I'm saying! My head is going round and round. Why did - I stay here? You ought to have taken me away, Paul, by - force. . . . - - "Paul, what do you think he has planned? Oh, the - dastard! They have kept twelve of the Ornequin - villagers as hostages; and it is I, it is I who am - responsible for their lives! . . . Do you understand - the horror of it? They will live, or they will be - shot, one by one, according to my behavior. . . . The - thing seems too infamous to believe. Is he only trying - to frighten me? Oh, the shamefulness of such a threat! - What a hell to find one's self in! I would rather - die. . . . - - - "_Nine o'clock in the evening._ - - "Die? No! Why should I die? Rosalie has been. Her - husband has come to an understanding with one of the - sentries who will be on duty to-night at the little - door in the wall, beyond the chapel. Rosalie is to - wake me up at three in the morning and we shall run - away to the big wood, where Jerome knows of an - inaccessible shelter. Heavens, if we can only succeed! - . . . - - - "_Eleven o'clock._ - - "What has happened? Why have I got up? It's only a - nightmare. I am sure of that; and yet I am shaking - with fever and hardly able to write. . . . And why am - I afraid to drink the glass of water by my bedside, as - I am accustomed to do when I cannot sleep? - - "Oh, such an abominable nightmare! How shall I ever - forget what I saw while I slept? For I was asleep, - that is certain. I had lain down to get a little rest - before running away; and I saw that woman's ghost in a - dream. . . . A ghost? It must have been one, for only - ghosts can enter through a bolted door; and her steps - made so little noise as she crept over the floor that - I scarcely heard the faintest rustling of her skirt. - - "What had she come to do? By the glimmer of my - night-light I saw her go round the table and walk up - to my bed, cautiously, with her head lost in the - darkness of the room. I was so frightened that I - closed my eyes, in order that she might believe me to - be asleep. But the feeling of her very presence and - approach increased within me; and I was able clearly - to follow all her doings. She stooped over me and - looked at me for a long time, as though she did not - know me and wanted to study my face. How was it that - she did not hear the frantic beating of my heart? I - could hear hers and also the regular movement of her - breath. The agony I went through! Who was the woman? - What was her object? - - "She ceased her scrutiny and went away, but not very - far. Through my eyelids I could half see her bending - beside me, occupied in some silent task; and at last I - became so certain that she was no longer watching me - that I gradually yielded to the temptation to open my - eyes. I wanted, if only for a second, to see her face - and what she was doing. - - "I looked; and Heaven only knows by what miracle I had - the strength to keep back the cry that tried to force - its way through my lips! The woman who stood there and - whose features I was able to make out plainly by the - light of the night-light was. . . . - - "Ah, I can't write anything so blasphemous! If the - woman had been beside me, kneeling down, praying, and - I had seen a gentle face smiling through its tears, I - should not have trembled before that unexpected vision - of the dead. But this distorted, fierce, infernal - expression, hideous with hatred and wickedness: no - sight in the world could have filled me with greater - terror. And it is perhaps for this reason, because - the sight was so extravagant and unnatural, that I did - not cry out and that I am now almost calm. _At the - moment when my eyes saw, I understood that I was the - victim of a nightmare._ - - "Mother, mother, you never wore and you never can wear - that expression. You were kind and gentle, were you - not? You used to smile; and, if you were still alive, - you would now be wearing that same kind and gentle - look? Mother, darling, since the terrible night when - Paul recognized your portrait, I have often been back - to that room, to learn to know my mother's face, which - I had forgotten: I was so young, mother, when you - died! And, though I was sorry that the painter had - given you a different expression from the one I should - have liked to see, at least it was not the wicked and - malignant expression of just now. Why should you hate - me? I am your daughter. Father has often told me that - we had the same smile, you and I, and also that your - eyes would grow moist with tears when you looked at - me. So you do not loathe me, do you? And I did dream, - did I not? - - "Or, at least, if I was not dreaming when I saw a - woman in my room, I was dreaming when that woman - seemed to me to have your face. It was a delirious - hallucination, it must have been. I had looked at your - portrait so long and thought of you so much that I - gave the stranger the features which I knew; and it - was she, not you, who bore that hateful expression. - - "And so I sha'n't drink the water. What she poured - into it must have been poison . . . or perhaps a - powerful sleeping-drug which would make me helpless - against the prince. . . . And I cannot but think of - the woman who sometimes walks with him. . . . - - "As for me, I know nothing, I understand nothing, my - thoughts are whirling in my tired brain. . . . - - "It will soon be three o'clock. . . . I am waiting for - Rosalie. It is a quiet night. There is not a sound in - the house or outside. . . . - - "It is striking three. Ah, to be away from this! . . . - To be free! . . ." - - - - -CHAPTER X - -75 OR 155? - - -Paul Delroze anxiously turned the page, as though hoping that the plan -of escape might have proved successful; and he received, as it were, a -fresh shock of grief on reading the first lines, written the following -morning, in an almost illegible hand: - - "We were denounced, betrayed. . . . Twenty men were - spying on our movements. . . . They fell upon us like - brutes. . . . I am now locked up in the park lodge. A - little lean-to beside it is serving as a prison for - Jerome and Rosalie. They are bound and gagged. I am - free, but there are soldiers at the door. I can hear - them speaking to one another. - - - "_Twelve mid-day._ - - "It is very difficult for me to write to you, Paul. - The sentry on duty opens the door and watches my every - movement. They did not search me, so I was able to - keep the leaves of my diary; and I write to you - hurriedly, by scraps at a time, in a dark corner. - . . . - - "My diary! Shall you find it, Paul? Will you know all - that has happened and what has become of me? If only - they don't take it from me! . . . - - "They have brought me bread and water! I am still - separated from Rosalie and Jerome. They have not given - them anything to eat. - - - "_Two o'clock._ - - "Rosalie has managed to get rid of her gag. She is now - speaking to me in an undertone through the wall. She - heard what the men who are guarding us said and she - tells me that Prince Conrad left last night for - Corvigny; that the French are approaching and that the - soldiers here are very uneasy. Are they going to - defend themselves, or will they fall back towards the - frontier? . . . It was Major Hermann who prevented our - escape. Rosalie says that we are done for. . . . - - - "_Half-past two._ - - "Rosalie and I had to stop speaking. I have just asked - her what she meant, why we should be done for. She - maintains that Major Hermann is a devil: - - "'Yes, devil,' she repeated. 'And, as he has special - reasons for acting against you. . . .' - - "'What reasons, Rosalie?' - - "'I will explain later. But you may be sure that if - Prince Conrad does not come back from Corvigny in time - to save us, Major Hermann will seize the opportunity - to have all three of us shot. . . .'" - -Paul positively roared with rage when he saw the dreadful word set down -in his poor Elisabeth's hand. It was on one of the last pages. After -that there were only a few sentences written at random, across the -paper, obviously in the dark, sentences that seemed breathless as the -voice of one dying: - - "The tocsin! . . . The wind carries the sound from - Corvigny. . . . What can it mean? . . . The French - troops? . . . Paul, Paul, perhaps you are with them! - . . . - - "Two soldiers came in, laughing: - - "'Lady's _kaput_! . . . All three _kaput_! . . . Major - Hermann said so: they're _kaput_!' - - "I am alone again. . . . We are going to die. . . . - But Rosalie wants to talk to me and daren't. . . . - - - "_Five o'clock._ - - "The French artillery. . . . Shells bursting round the - chateau. . . . Oh, if one of them could hit me! . . . - I hear Rosalie's voice. . . . What has she to tell me? - What secret has she discovered? - - "Oh, horror! Oh, the vile truth! Rosalie has spoken. - Dear God, I beseech Thee, give me time to write. . . . - Paul, you could never imagine. . . . You must be told - before I die. . . . Paul. . . ." - -The rest of the page was torn out; and the following pages, to the end -of the month, were blank. Had Elisabeth had the time and the strength -to write down what Rosalie had revealed to her? - -This was a question which Paul did not even ask himself. What cared he -for those revelations and the darkness that once again and for good -shrouded the truth which he could no longer hope to discover? What cared -he for vengeance or Prince Conrad or Major Hermann or all those savages -who tortured and slew women? Elisabeth was dead. She had, so to speak, -died before his eyes. Nothing outside that fact was worth a thought or -an effort. Faint and stupefied by a sudden fit of cowardice, his eyes -still fixed on the diary in which his poor wife had jotted down the -phases of the most cruel martyrdom imaginable, he felt an immense -longing for death and oblivion steal slowly over him. Elisabeth was -calling to him. Why go on fighting? Why not join her? - -Then some one tapped him on the shoulder. A hand seized the revolver -which he was holding; and Bernard said: - -"Drop that, Paul. If you think that a soldier has the right to kill -himself at the present time, I will leave you free to do so when you -have heard what I have to say." - -Paul made no protest. The temptation to die had come to him, but almost -without his knowing it; and, though he would perhaps have yielded to it, -in a moment of madness, he was still in the state of mind in which a man -soon recovers his consciousness. - -"Speak," he said. - -"It will not take long. Three minutes will give me time to explain. -Listen to me. I see, from the writing, that you have found a diary kept -by Elisabeth. Does it confirm what you knew?" - -"Yes." - -"When Elisabeth wrote it, was she threatened with death as well as -Jerome and Rosalie?" - -"Yes." - -"And all three were shot on the day when you and I arrived at Corvigny, -that is to say, on Wednesday, the sixteenth?" - -"Yes." - -"It was between five and six in the afternoon, on the day before the -Thursday when we arrived here, at the Chateau d'Ornequin?" - -"Yes, but why these questions?" - -"Why? Look at this, Paul. I took from you and I hold in my hand the -splinter of shell which you removed from the wall of the lodge at the -exact spot where Elisabeth was shot. Here it is. There was a lock of -hair still sticking to it." - -"Well?" - -"Well, I had a talk just now with an adjutant of artillery, who was -passing by the chateau; and the result of our conversation and of his -inspection was that the splinter does not belong to a shell fired from a -75-centimeter gun, but to a shell fired from a 155-centimeter gun, a -Rimailho." - -"I don't understand." - -"You don't understand, because you don't know or because you have -forgotten what my adjutant reminded me of. On the Corvigny day, -Wednesday the sixteenth, the batteries which opened fire and dropped a -few shells on the chateau at the moment when the execution was taking -place were all batteries of seventy-fives; and our one-five-five -Rimailhos did not fire until the next day, Thursday, while we were -marching against the chateau. Therefore, as Elisabeth was shot and -buried at about 6 o'clock on the Wednesday evening, it is physically -impossible for a splinter of a shell fired from a Rimailho to have taken -off a lock of her hair, because the Rimailhos were not fired until the -Thursday morning." - -"Then you mean to say. . . ." murmured Paul, in a husky voice. - -"I mean to say, how can we doubt that the Rimailho splinter was picked -up from the ground on the Thursday morning and deliberately driven into -the wall among some locks of hair cut off on the evening before?" - -"But you're crazy, Bernard! What object can there have been in that?" - -Bernard gave a smile: - -"Well, of course, the object of making people think that Elisabeth had -been shot when she hadn't." - -Paul rushed at him and shook him: - -"You know something, Bernard, or you wouldn't be laughing! Can't you -speak? How do you account for the bullets in the wall of the lodge? And -the iron chain? And that third ring?" - -"Just so. There were too many stage properties. When an execution takes -place, does one see marks of bullets like that? And did you ever find -Elisabeth's body? How do you know that they did not take pity on her -after shooting Jerome and his wife? Or who can tell? Some one may have -interfered. . . ." - -Paul felt some little hope steal over him. Elisabeth, after being -condemned to death by Major Hermann, had perhaps been saved by Prince -Conrad, returning from Corvigny before the execution. - -He stammered: - -"Perhaps . . . yes . . . perhaps. . . . And then there's this: Major -Hermann knew of our presence at Corvigny--remember your meeting with -that peasant woman--and wanted Elisabeth at any rate to be dead for us, -so that we might give up looking for her. I expect Major Hermann -arranged those properties, as you call them. How can I tell? Have I any -right to hope?" - -Bernard came closer to him and said, solemnly: - -"It's not hope, Paul, that I'm bringing you, but a certainty. I wanted -to prepare you for it. And now listen. My reason for asking those -questions of the artillery adjutant was that I might check facts which I -already knew. Yes, when I was at Ornequin village just now, a convoy of -German prisoners arrived from the frontier. I was able to exchange a few -words with one of them who had formed part of the garrison of the -chateau. He had seen things, therefore. He knew. Well, Elisabeth was -not shot. Prince Conrad prevented the execution." - -"What's that? What's that?" cried Paul, overcome with joy. "You're quite -sure? She's alive?" - -"Yes, alive. . . . They've taken her to Germany." - -"But since then? For, after all, Major Hermann may have caught up with -her and succeeded in his designs." - -"No." - -"How do you know?" - -"Through that prisoner. The French lady whom he had seen here he saw -this morning." - -"Where?" - -"Not far from the frontier, in a village just outside Ebrecourt, under -the protection of the man who saved her and who is certainly capable of -defending her against Major Hermann." - -"What's that?" repeated Paul, but in a dull voice this time and with a -face distorted with anger. - -"Prince Conrad, who seems to take his soldiering in a very amateurish -spirit--he is looked upon as an idiot, you know, even in his own -family--has made Ebrecourt his headquarters and calls on Elisabeth every -day. There is no fear, therefore. . . ." But Bernard interrupted -himself, and asked in amazement, "Why, what's the matter? You're gray in -the face." - -Paul took his brother-in-law by the shoulders and shouted: - -"Elisabeth is lost. Prince Conrad has fallen in love with her--we heard -that before, you know; and her diary is one long cry of distress--he has -fallen in love with her and he never lets go his prey. Do you -understand? He will stop at nothing!" - -"Oh, Paul, I can't believe. . . ." - -"At nothing, I tell you. He is not only an idiot, but a scoundrel and a -blackguard. When you read the diary you will understand. . . . But -enough of words, Bernard. What we have to do is to act and to act at -once, without even taking time to reflect." - -"What do you propose?" - -"To snatch Elisabeth from that man's clutches, to deliver her." - -"Impossible." - -"Impossible? We are not eight miles from the place where my wife is a -prisoner, exposed to that rascal's insults, and you think that I am -going to stay here with my arms folded? Nonsense! We must show that we -have blood in our veins! To work, Bernard! And if you hesitate I shall -go alone." - -"You will go alone? Where?" - -"To Ebrecourt. I don't want any one with me. I need no assistance. A -German uniform will be enough. I shall cross the frontier in the dark. I -shall kill the enemies who have to be killed and to-morrow morning -Elisabeth shall be here, free." - -Bernard shook his head and said, gently: - -"My poor Paul!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean that I should have been the first to agree and that we should -have rushed to Elisabeth's rescue together, without counting the risk. -Unfortunately. . . ." - -"What?" - -"Well, it's this, Paul: there is no intention on our side of taking a -more vigorous offensive. They've sent for reserve and territorial -regiments; and we are leaving." - -"Leaving?" stammered Paul, in dismay. - -"Yes, this evening. Our division is to start from Corvigny this evening -and go I don't know where . . . to Rheims, perhaps, or Arras. North and -west, in short. So you see, my poor chap, your plan can't be realized. -Come, buck up. And don't look so distressed. It breaks my heart to see -you. After all, Elisabeth isn't in danger. She will know how to defend -herself. . . ." - -Paul did not answer. He remembered Prince Conrad's abominable words, -quoted by Elisabeth in her diary: - -"It is war. It is the law, the law of war." - -He felt the tremendous weight of that law bearing upon him, but he felt -at the same time that he was obeying it in its noblest and loftiest -phase, the sacrifice of the individual to everything demanded by the -safety of the nation. - -The law of war? No, the duty of war; and a duty so imperious that a man -does not discuss it and that, implacable though it be, he must not even -allow the merest quiver of a complaint to stir in his secret soul. -Whether Elisabeth was faced by death or by dishonor did not concern -Sergeant Paul Delroze and could not make him turn for a second from the -path which he was ordered to follow. He was a soldier first and a man -afterwards. He owed no duty save to France, his sorely-stricken and -beloved country. - -He carefully folded up Elisabeth's diary and went out, followed by his -brother-in-law. - -At nightfall he left the Chateau d'Ornequin. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -"YSERY, MISERY" - - -Toul, Bar-le-Duc, Vitry-le-Francois. . . . The little towns sped past as -the long train carried Paul and Bernard westwards into France. Other, -numberless trains came before or after theirs, laden with troops and -munitions of war. They reached the outskirts of Paris and turned north, -passing through Beauvais, Amiens and Arras. - -It was necessary that they should arrive there first, on the frontier, -to join the heroic Belgians and to join them as high up as possible. -Every mile of ground covered was so much territory snatched from the -invader during the long immobilized war that was in preparation. - -Second Lieutenant Paul Delroze--he had received his new rank in the -course of the railway journey--accomplished the northward march as it -were in a dream, fighting every day, risking his life every minute, -leading his men with irresistible dash, but all as though he were doing -it without his own cognizance, in obedience to the automatic operation -of a predetermined will. - -While Bernard continued to stake his life with a laugh, as though in -play, keeping up his comrade's courage with his own light-hearted pluck, -Paul remained speechless and absent. Everything--fatigue, privations, -the weather--seemed to him a matter of indifference. - -Nevertheless, it was an immense delight, as he would sometimes confess -to Bernard, to be going towards the fighting line. He had the feeling -that he was making for a definite object, the only one that interested -him: Elisabeth's deliverance. Even though he was attacking this frontier -and not the other, the eastern frontier, he was still rushing with all -the strength of his hatred against the detested enemy. Whether that -enemy was defeated here or there made little difference. In either case, -Elisabeth would be free. - -"We shall succeed," said Bernard. "You may be sure that Elisabeth will -outwit that swine. Meanwhile, we shall stampede the Huns, make a dash -across Belgium, take Conrad in the rear and capture Ebrecourt. Doesn't -the proposal make you smile? Oh, no, you never smile, do you, when you -demolish a Hun? Not you! You've got a little way of laughing that tells -me all about it. I say to myself, 'There's a bullet gone home,' or -'That's done it: he's got one at the end of his toothpick!' For you've a -way of your own of sticking them. Ah, lieutenant, how fierce we grow! -Simply through practise in killing! And to think that it makes us -laugh!" - -Roye, Lassigny, Chaulnes. . . . Later, the Bassee Canal and the River -Lys. . . . And, later and at last, Ypres. Ypres! Here the two lines met, -extended towards the sea. After the French rivers, after the Marne, the -Aisne, the Oise and the Somme, a little Belgian stream was to run red -with young men's blood. The terrible battle of the Yser was beginning. - -Bernard, who soon won his sergeant's stripes, and Paul Delroze lived in -this hell until the early days of December. Together with half a dozen -Parisians, a volunteer soldier, a reservist and a Belgian called -Laschen, who had escaped from Roulers and joined the French in order to -get at the enemy more quickly, they formed a little band who seemed -proof against fire. Of the whole section commanded by Paul, only these -remained; and, when the section was re-formed, they continued to group -together. They claimed all the dangerous expeditions. And each time, -when their task was fulfilled, they met again, safe and sound, without a -scratch, as though they brought one another luck. - -During the last fortnight, the regiment, which had been pushed to the -extreme point of the front, was flanked by the Belgian lines on the one -side and the British lines on the other. Heroic assaults were delivered. -Furious bayonet charges were made in the mud, even in the water of the -flooded fields; and the Germans fell by the thousand and the ten -thousand. - -Bernard was in the seventh heaven: - -"Tommy," he said to a little English soldier who was advancing by his -side one day under a hail of shot and who did not understand a single -word of French, "Tommy, no one admires the Belgians more than I do, but -they don't stagger me, for the simple reason that they fight in our -fashion; that is to say, like lions. The fellows who stagger me are you -English beggars. You're different, you know. You have a way of your own -of doing your work . . . and such work! No excitement, no fury. You keep -all that bottled up. Oh, of course, you go mad when you retreat: that's -when you're really terrible! You never gain as much ground as when -you've lost a bit. Result: mashed Boches!" - -He paused and then continued: - -"I give you my word, Tommy, it fills us with confidence to have you by -our side. Listen and I'll tell you a great secret. France is getting -lots of applause just now; and she deserves it. We are all standing on -our legs, holding our heads high and without boasting. We wear a smile -on our faces and are quite calm, with clean souls and bright eyes. Well, -the reason why we don't flinch, why we have confidence nailed to our -hearts, is that you are with us. It's as I say, Tommy. Look here, do you -know at what precise moment France felt just a little shaking at the pit -of her stomach? During the retreat from Belgium? Not a bit of it! When -Paris was within an ace of being sacked? Not at all. You give it up? -Well, it was on the first day or two. At that time, you see, we knew, -without saying so, without admitting it even to ourselves, that we were -done for. There was no help for it. No time to prepare ourselves. Done -for was what we were. And, though I say it as shouldn't, France behaved -well. She marched straight to death without wincing, with her brightest -smile and as gaily as if she were marching to certain victory. _Ave, -Caesar, morituri te salutant!_ Die? Why not, since our honor demands it? -Die to save the world? Right you are! And then suddenly London rings us -up on the telephone. 'Hullo! Who are you?' 'It's England speaking.' -'Well?' 'Well, I'm coming in.' 'You don't mean it?' 'I do--with my last -ship, with my last man, with my last shilling.' Then . . . oh, then -there was a sudden change of front! Die? Rather not! No question of that -now! Live, yes, and conquer! We two together will settle fate. From that -day, France did not know a moment's uneasiness. The retreat? A trifle. -Paris captured? A mere accident! One thing alone mattered: the final -result. Fighting against England and France, there's nothing left for -you Huns to do but go down on your knees. Here, Tommy, I'll start with -that one: the big fellow at the foot of the tree. Down on your knees, -you big fellow! . . . Hi! Tommy! Where are you off to? Calling you, are -they? Good-by, Tommy. My love to England!" - -It was on the evening of that day, as the 3rd company were skirmishing -near Dixmude, that an incident occurred which struck the two -brothers-in-law as very odd. Paul suddenly felt a violent blow in the -right side, just above the hip. He had no time to bother about it. But, -on retiring to the trenches, he saw that a bullet had passed through the -holster of his revolver and flattened itself against the barrel. Now, -judging from the position which Paul had occupied, the bullet must have -been fired from behind him; that is to say, by a soldier belonging to -his company or to some other company of his regiment. Was it an -accident? A piece of awkwardness? - -Two days later, it was Bernard's turn. Luck protected him, too. A bullet -went through his knapsack and grazed his shoulder-blade. - -And, four days after that, Paul had his cap shot through: and, this time -again, the bullet came from the French lines. - -There was no doubt about it therefore. The two brothers-in-law had -evidently been aimed at; and the traitor, a criminal in the enemy's pay, -was concealed in the French ranks. - -"It's as sure as eggs," said Bernard. "You first, then I, then you -again. There's a touch of Hermann about this. The major must be at -Dixmude." - -"And perhaps the prince, too," observed Paul. - -"Very likely. In any case, one of their agents has slipped in amongst -us. How are we to get at him? Tell the colonel?" - -"If you like, Bernard, but don't speak of ourselves and of our private -quarrel with the major. I did think for a moment of going to the -colonel about it, but decided not to, as I did not want to drag in -Elisabeth's name." - -There was no occasion, however, for them to warn their superiors. Though -the attempts on the lives of Paul and Bernard were not repeated, there -were fresh instances of treachery every day. French batteries were -located and attacked; their movements were forestalled; and everything -proved that a spying system had been organized on a much more methodical -and active scale than anywhere else. They felt certain of the presence -of Major Hermann, who was evidently one of the chief pivots of the -system. - -"He is here," said Bernard, pointing to the German lines. "He is here -because the great game is being played in those marshes and because -there is work for him to do. And also he is here because we are." - -"How would he know?" Paul objected. - -And Bernard rejoined: - -"How could he fail to know?" - -One afternoon there was a meeting of the majors and the captains in the -cabin which served as the colonel's quarters. Paul Delroze was summoned -to attend it and was told that the general commanding the division had -ordered the capture of a little house, standing on the left bank of the -canal, which in ordinary times was inhabited by a ferryman. The Germans -had strengthened and were holding it. The fire of their distant -batteries, set up on a height on the other side, defended this -block-house, which had formed the center of the fighting for some days. -It had become necessary to take it. - -"For this purpose," said the colonel, "we have called for a hundred -volunteers from the African companies. They will set out to-night and -deliver the assault to-morrow morning. Our business will be to support -them at once and, once the attack has succeeded, to repel the -counter-attacks, which are sure to be extremely violent because of the -importance of the position. You all of you know the position, gentlemen. -It is separated from us by the marshes which our African volunteers will -enter to-night . . . up to their waists, one might say. But to the right -of the marshes, alongside of the canal, runs a tow-path by which we will -be able to come to the rescue. This tow-path has been swept by the guns -on both sides and is free for a great part. Still, half a mile before -the ferryman's house there is an old lighthouse which was occupied by -the Germans until lately and which we have just destroyed with our -gun-fire. Have they evacuated it entirely? Is there a danger of -encountering an advance post there? It would be a good thing if we could -find out; and I thought of you, Delroze." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"It's not a dangerous job, but it's a delicate one; and it will have to -make certain. I want you to start to-night. If the old lighthouse is -occupied, come back. If not, send for a dozen reliable men and hide -them carefully until we come up. It will make an excellent base." - -"Very well, sir." - -Paul at once made his arrangements, called together his little band of -Parisians and volunteers who, with the reservist and Laschen the -Belgian, formed his usual command, warned them that he would probably -want them in the course of the night and, at nine o'clock in the -evening, set out, accompanied by Bernard d'Andeville. - -The fire from the enemy's guns kept them for a long time on the bank of -the canal, behind a huge, uprooted willow-trunk. Then an impenetrable -darkness gathered round them, so much so that they could not even -distinguish the water of the canal. - -They crept rather than walked along, for fear of unexpected flashes of -light. A slight breeze was blowing across the muddy fields and over the -marshes, which quivered with the whispering of the reeds. - -"It's pretty dreary here," muttered Bernard. - -"Hold your tongue." - -"As you please, lieutenant." - -Guns kept booming at intervals for no reason, like dogs barking to make -a noise amid the deep, nervous silence; and other guns at once barked -back furiously, as if to make a noise in their turn and to prove that -they were not asleep. - -And once more peace reigned. Nothing stirred in space. It was as though -the very grass of the marshes had ceased to wave. And yet Bernard and -Paul seemed to perceive the slow progress of the African volunteers who -had set out at the same time as themselves, their long halts in the -middle of the icy waters, their stubborn efforts. - -"Drearier and drearier," sighed Bernard. - -"You're very impressionable to-night," said Paul. - -"It's the Yser. You know what the men say: 'Yysery, misery!'" - -They dropped to the ground suddenly. The enemy was sweeping the path and -the marshes with search-lights. There were two more alarms; and at last -they reached the neighborhood of the old lighthouse without impediment. - -It was half-past eleven. With infinite caution they stole in between the -demolished blocks of masonry and soon perceived that the post had been -abandoned. Nevertheless, they discovered, under the broken steps of the -staircase, an open trap-door and a ladder leading to a cellar which -revealed gleams of swords and helmets. But Bernard, who was piercing the -darkness from above with the rays of his electric lamp, declared: - -"There's nothing to fear, they're dead. The Huns must have thrown them -in, after the recent bombardment." - -"Yes," said Paul. "And we must be prepared for the fact that they may -send for the bodies. Keep guard on the Yser side, Bernard." - -"And suppose one of the beggars is still alive?" - -"I'll go down and see." - -"Turn out their pockets," said Bernard, as he moved away, "and bring us -back their note-books. I love those. They're the best indications of the -state of their souls . . . or rather of their stomachs." - -Paul went down. The cellar was a fairly large one. Half-a-dozen bodies -lay spread over the floor, all lifeless and cold. Acting on Bernard's -advice, he turned out the pockets and casually inspected the note-books. -There was nothing interesting to attract his attention. But in the tunic -of the sixth soldier whom he examined, a short, thin man, shot right -through the head, he found a pocket-book bearing the name of Rosenthal -and containing French and Belgian bank-notes and a packet of letters -with Spanish, Dutch and Swiss postage stamps. The letters, all of which -were in German, had been addressed to a German agent residing in France, -whose name did not appear, and sent by him to Private Rosenthal, on -whose body Paul discovered them. This private was to pass them on, -together with a photograph, to a third person, referred to as his -excellency. - -"Secret Service," said Paul, looking through them. "Confidential -information. . . . Statistics. . . . What a pack of scoundrels!" - -But, on glancing at the pocket-book again, he saw an envelope which he -tore open. Inside was a photograph; and Paul's surprise at the sight of -it was so great that he uttered an exclamation. It represented the woman -whose portrait he had seen in the locked room at Ornequin, the same -woman, with the same lace scarf arranged in the identical way and with -the same expression, whose hardness was not masked by its smile. And was -this woman not the Comtesse Hermine d'Andeville, the mother of Elisabeth -and Bernard? - -The print bore the name of a Berlin photographer. On turning it over, -Paul saw something that increased his stupefaction. There were a few -words of writing: - - "_To Stephane d'Andeville. 1902._" - -Stephane was the Comte d'Andeville's Christian name! - -The photograph, therefore, had been sent from Berlin to the father of -Elisabeth and Bernard in 1902, that is to say, four years after the -Comtesse Hermine's death, so that Paul was faced with one of two -solutions: either the photograph, taken before the Comtesse Hermine's -death, was inscribed with the date of the year in which the count had -received it; or else the Comtesse Hermine was still alive. - -And, in spite of himself, Paul thought of Major Hermann, whose memory -was suggested to his troubled mind by this portrait, as it had been by -the picture in the locked room. Hermann! Hermine! And here was Hermine's -image discovered by him on the corpse of a German spy, by the banks of -the Yser, where the chief spy, who was certainly Major Hermann, must -even now be prowling. - -"Paul! Paul!" - -It was his brother-in-law calling him. Paul rose quickly, hid the -photograph, being fully resolved not to speak of it to Bernard, and -climbed the ladder. - -"Well, Bernard, what is it?" - -"A little troop of Boches. . . . I thought at first that they were a -patrol, relieving the sentries, and that they would keep on the other -side. But they've unmoored a couple of boats and are pulling across the -canal." - -"Yes, I can hear them." - -"Shall we fire at them?" Bernard suggested. - -"No, it would mean giving the alarm. It's better to watch them. Besides, -that's what we're here for." - -But at this moment there was a faint whistle from the tow-path. A -similar whistle answered from the boat. Two other signals were exchanged -at regular intervals. - -A church clock struck midnight. - -"It's an appointment," Paul conjectured. "This is becoming interesting. -Follow me. I noticed a place below where I think we shall be safe -against any surprise." - -It was a back-cellar separated from the first by a brick wall containing -a breach through which they easily made their way. They rapidly filled -up the breach with bricks that had fallen from the ceiling and the -walls. - -They had hardly finished when a sound of steps was heard overhead and -some words in German reached their ears. The troop of soldiers seemed to -be fairly numerous. Bernard fixed the barrel of his rifle in one of the -loop-holes in their barricade. - -"What are you doing?" asked Paul. - -"Making ready for them if they come. We can sustain a regular siege -here." - -"Don't be a fool, Bernard. Listen. Perhaps we shall be able to catch a -few words." - -"You may, perhaps. I don't know a syllable of German. . . ." - -A dazzling light suddenly filled the cellar. A soldier came down the -ladder and hung a large electric lamp to a hook in the wall. He was -joined by a dozen men; and the two brothers-in-law at once perceived -that they had come to remove the dead. - -It did not take long. In a quarter of an hour's time, there was nothing -left in the cellar but one body, that of Rosenthal, the spy. - -And an imperious voice above commanded: - -"Stay there, you others, and wait for us. And you, Karl, go down first." - -Some one appeared on the top rungs of the ladder. Paul and Bernard were -astounded at seeing a pair of red trousers, followed by a blue tunic and -the full uniform of a French private. The man jumped to the ground and -cried: - -"I'm here, _Excellenz_. You can come now." - -And they saw Laschen, the Belgian, or rather the self-styled Belgian who -had given his name as Laschen and who belonged to Paul's section. They -now knew where the three shots that had been fired at them came from. -The traitor was there. Under the light they clearly distinguished his -face, the face of a man of forty, with fat, heavy features and -red-rimmed eyes. He seized the uprights of the ladder so as to hold it -steady. An officer climbed down cautiously, wrapped in a wide gray cloak -with upturned collar. - -They recognized Major Hermann. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -MAJOR HERMANN - - -Resisting the surge of hatred that might have driven him to perform an -immediate act of vengeance, Paul at once laid his hand on Bernard's arm -to compel him to prudence. But he himself was filled with rage at the -sight of that demon. The man who represented in his eyes every one of -the crimes committed against his father and his wife, that man was -there, in front of his revolver, and Paul must not budge! Nay more, -circumstances had taken such a shape that, to a certainty, the man would -go away in a few minutes, to commit other crimes, and there was no -possibility of calling him to account. - -"Good, Karl," said the major, in German, addressing the so-called -Belgian. "Good. You have been punctual. Well, what news is there?" - -"First of all, _Excellenz_," replied Karl, who seemed to treat the major -with that deference mingled with familiarity which men show to a -superior who is also their accomplice, "by your leave." - -He took off his blue tunic and put on that of one of the dead Germans. -Then, giving the military salute: - -"That's better. You see, I'm a good German, _Excellenz_. I don't stick -at any job. But this uniform chokes me. - -"Well, _Excellenz_, it's too dangerous a trade, plied in this way. A -peasant's smock is all very well; but a soldier's tunic won't do. Those -beggars know no fear; I am obliged to follow them; and I run the risk of -being killed by a German bullet." - -"What about the two brothers-in-law?" - -"I fired at them three times from behind and three times I missed them. -Couldn't be helped: they've got the devil's luck; and I should only end -by getting caught. So, as you say, I'm deserting; and I sent the -youngster who runs between me and Rosenthal to make an appointment with -you." - -"Rosenthal sent your note on to me at headquarters." - -"But there was also a photograph, the one you know of, and a bundle of -letters from your agents in France. I didn't want to have those proofs -found on me if I was discovered." - -"Rosenthal was to have brought them to me himself. Unfortunately, he -made a blunder." - -"What was that, _Excellenz_?" - -"Getting killed by a shell." - -"Nonsense!" - -"There's his body at your feet." - -Karl merely shrugged his shoulders and said: - -"The fool!" - -"Yes, he never knew how to look after himself," added the major, -completing the funeral oration. "Take his pocketbook from him, Karl. He -used to carry it in an inside pocket of his woolen waistcoat." - -The spy stooped and, presently, said: - -"It's not there, _Excellenz_." - -"Then he put it somewhere else. Look in the other pockets." - -Karl did so and said: - -"It's not there either." - -"What! This is beyond me! Rosenthal never parted with his pocketbook. He -used to keep it to sleep with; he would have kept it to die with." - -"Look for yourself, _Excellenz_." - -"But then . . . ?" - -"Some one must have been here recently and taken the pocketbook." - -"Who? Frenchmen?" - -The spy rose to his feet, was silent for a moment and then, going up to -the major, said in a deliberate voice: - -"Not Frenchmen, _Excellenz_, but a Frenchman." - -"What do you mean?" - -"_Excellenz_, Delroze started on a reconnaissance not long ago with his -brother-in-law, Bernard d'Andeville. I could not get to know in which -direction, but I know now. He came this way. He must have explored the -ruins of the lighthouse and, seeing some dead lying about, turned out -their pockets." - -"That's a bad business," growled the major. "Are you sure?" - -"Certain. He must have been here an hour ago at most. Perhaps," added -Karl, with a laugh, "perhaps he's here still, hiding in some hole. -. . ." - -Both of them cast a look around them, but mechanically; and the movement -denoted no serious fear on their part. Then the major continued, -pensively: - -"After all, that bundle of letters received by our agents, letters -without names or addresses to them, doesn't matter so much. But the -photograph is more important." - -"I should think so, _Excellenz_! Why, here's a photograph taken in 1902; -and we've been looking for it, therefore, for the last twelve years. I -manage, after untold efforts, to discover it among the papers which -Comte Stephane d'Andeville left behind at the outbreak of war. And this -photograph, which you wanted to take back from the Comte d'Andeville, to -whom you had been careless enough to give it, is now in the hands of -Paul Delroze, M. d'Andeville's son-in-law, Elisabeth d'Andeville's -husband and your mortal enemy!" - -"Well, I know all that," cried the major, who was obviously annoyed. -"You needn't rub it in!" - -"_Excellenz_, one must always look facts in the face. What has been your -constant object with regard to Paul Delroze? To conceal from him the -truth as to your identity and therefore to turn his attention, his -enquiries, his hatred, towards Major Hermann. That's so, is it not? You -went to the length of multiplying the number of daggers engraved with -the letters H, E, R, M and even of signing 'Major Hermann' on the panel -where the famous portrait hung. In fact, you took every precaution, so -that, when you think fit to kill off Major Hermann, Paul Delroze will -believe his enemy to be dead and will cease to think of you. And now -what happens? Why, in that photograph he possesses the most certain -proof of the connection between Major Hermann and the famous portrait -which he saw on the evening of his marriage, that is to say, between the -present and the past." - -"True; but this photograph, found on the body of some dead soldier, -would have no importance in his eyes unless he knew where it came from, -for instance, if he could see his father-in-law." - -"His father-in-law is fighting with the British army within eight miles -of Paul Delroze." - -"Do they know it?" - -"No, but an accident may bring them together. Moreover, Bernard and his -father correspond; and Bernard must have told his father what happened -at the Chateau d'Ornequin, at least in so far as Paul Delroze was able -to piece the incidents together." - -"Well, what does that matter, so long as they know nothing of the other -events? And that's the main thing. They could discover all our secrets -through Elisabeth and find out who I am. But they won't look for her, -because they believe her to be dead." - -"Are you sure of that, _Excellenz_?" - -"What's that?" - -The two accomplices were standing close together, looking into each -other's eyes, the major uneasy and irritated, the spy cunning. - -"Speak," said the major. "What do you want to say?" - -"Just this, _Excellenz_, that just now I was able to put my hand on -Delroze's kit-bag. Not for long: two seconds, that's all; but long -enough to see two things. . . ." - -"Hurry up, can't you?" - -"First, the loose leaves of that manuscript of which you took care to -burn the more important papers, but of which, unfortunately, you mislaid -a considerable part." - -"His wife's diary?" - -"Yes." - -The major burst into an oath: - -"May I be damned for everlasting! One should burn everything in those -cases. Oh, if I hadn't indulged that foolish curiosity! . . . And next?" - -"Oh, hardly anything, _Excellenz_! A bit of a shell, yes, a little bit -of a shell; but I must say that it looked to me very like the splinter -which you ordered me to drive into the wall of the lodge, after sticking -some of Elisabeth's hair to it. What do you think of that, _Excellenz_?" - -The major stamped his foot with anger and let fly a new string of oaths -and anathemas at the head of Paul Delroze. - -"What do you think of that?" repeated the spy. - -"You are right," cried the major. "His wife's diary will have given that -cursed Frenchman a glimpse of the truth; and that piece of shell in his -possession is a proof to him that his wife is perhaps still alive, which -is the one thing I wanted to avoid. We shall never get rid of him now!" -His rage seemed to increase. "Oh, Karl, he makes me sick and tired! He -and his street-boy of a brother-in-law, what a pair of swankers! By God, -I did think that you had rid me of them the night when we came back to -their room at the chateau and found their names written on the wall! And -you can understand that they won't let things rest, now that they know -the girl isn't dead! They will look for her. They will find her. And, as -she knows all our secrets . . . ! You ought to have made away with her, -Karl!" - -"And the prince?" chuckled the spy. - -"Conrad is an ass! The whole of that family will bring us ill-luck and -first of all to him who was fool enough to fall in love with that hussy. -You ought to have made away with her at once, Karl--I told you--and not -to have waited for the prince's return." - -Standing full in the light as he was, Major Hermann displayed the most -appalling highwayman's face imaginable, appalling not because of the -deformity of the features or any particular ugliness, but because of -the most repulsive and savage expression, in which Paul once more -recognized, carried to the very limits of paroxysm, the expression of -the Comtesse Hermine, as revealed in her picture and the photograph. At -the thought of the crime which had failed, Major Hermann seemed to -suffer a thousand deaths, as though the murder had been a condition of -his own life. He ground his teeth. He rolled his bloodshot eyes. - -In a distraught voice, clutching the shoulder of his accomplice with his -fingers, he shouted, this time in French: - -"Karl, it is beginning to look as though we couldn't touch them, as -though some miracle protected them against us. You've missed them three -times lately. At the Chateau d'Ornequin you killed two others in their -stead. I also missed him the other day at the little gate in the park. -And it was in the same park, near the same chapel--you remember--sixteen -years ago, when he was only a child, that you drove your knife into him. -. . . Well, you started your blundering on that day." - -The spy gave an insolent, cynical laugh: - -"What did you expect, _Excellenz_? I was on the threshold of my career -and I had not your experience. Here were a father and a little boy whom -we had never set eyes on ten minutes before and who had done nothing to -us except annoy the Kaiser. My hand shook, I confess. You, on the other -hand: ah, you made neat work of the father, you did! One little touch -of your little hand and the trick was done!" - -This time it was Paul who, slowly and carefully, slipped the barrel of -his revolver into one of the breaches. He could no longer doubt, after -Karl's revelations, that the major had killed his father. It was that -creature whom he had seen, dagger in hand, on that tragic evening, that -creature and none other! And the creature's accomplice of to-day was the -accomplice of the earlier occasion, the satellite who had tried to kill -Paul while his father was dying. - -Bernard, seeing what Paul did, whispered in his ear: - -"So you have made up your mind? We're to shoot him down?" - -"Wait till I give the signal," answered Paul. "But don't you fire at -him, aim at the spy." - -In spite of everything, he was thinking of the inexplicable mystery of -the bonds connecting Major Hermann with Bernard d'Andeville and his -sister Elisabeth and he could not allow Bernard to be the one to carry -out the act of justice. He himself hesitated, as one hesitates before -performing an action of which one does not realize the full scope. Who -was that scoundrel? What identity was Paul to ascribe to him? To-day, -Major Hermann and chief of the German secret service; yesterday, Prince -Conrad's boon companion, all-powerful at the Chateau d'Ornequin, -disguising himself as a peasant-woman and prowling through Corvigny; -long before that, an assassin, the Emperor's accomplice . . . and the -lady of Ornequin: which of all these personalities, which were but -different aspects of one and the same being, was the real one? - -Paul looked at the major in bewilderment, as he had looked at the -photograph and, in the locked room, at the portrait of Hermine -d'Andeville. Hermann, Hermine! In his mind the two names became merged -into one. And he noticed the daintiness of the hands, white and small as -a woman's hands. The tapering fingers were decked with rings set with -precious stones. The booted feet, too, were delicately formed. The -colorless face showed not a trace of hair. But all this effeminate -appearance was belied by the grating sound of a hoarse voice, by -heaviness of gait and movement and by a sort of barbarous strength. - -The major put his hands before his face and reflected for a few minutes. -Karl watched him with a certain air of pity and seemed to be asking -himself whether his master was not beginning to feel some kind of -remorse at the thought of the crimes which he had committed. But the -major threw off his torpor and, in a hardly audible voice, quivering -with nothing but hatred, said: - -"On their heads be it, Karl! On their heads be it for trying to get in -our path! I put away the father and I did well. One day it will be the -son's turn. And now . . . now we have the girl to see to." - -"Shall I take charge of that, _Excellenz_?" - -"No, I have a use for you here and I must stay here myself. Things are -going very badly. But I shall go down there early in January. I shall be -at Ebrecourt on the morning of the tenth of January. The business must -be finished forty-eight hours after. And it shall be finished, that I -swear to you." - -He was again silent while the spy laughed loudly. Paul had stooped, so -as to bring his eyes to the level of his revolver. It would be criminal -to hesitate now. To kill the major no longer meant revenging himself and -slaying his father's murderer: it meant preventing a further crime and -saving Elisabeth. He had to act, whatever the consequences of his act -might be. He made up his mind. - -"Are you ready?" he whispered to Bernard. - -"Yes. I am waiting for you to give the signal." - -He took aim coldly, waiting for the propitious moment, and was about to -pull the trigger, when Karl said, in German: "I say, _Excellenz_, do you -know what's being prepared for the ferryman's house?" - -"What?" - -"An attack, just that. A hundred volunteers from the African companies -are on their way through the marshes now. The assault will be delivered -at dawn. You have only just time to let them know at headquarters and to -find out what precautions they intend to take." - -The major simply said: - -"They are taken." - -"What's that you say, _Excellenz_?" - -"I say, that they are taken. I had word from another quarter; and, as -they attach great value to the ferryman's house, I telephoned to the -officer in command of the post that we would send him three hundred men -at five o'clock in the morning. The African volunteers will be caught in -a trap. Not one of them will come back alive." - -The major gave a little laugh of satisfaction and turned up the collar -of his cloak as he added: - -"Besides, to make doubly sure, I shall go and spend the night there -. . . especially as I am beginning to wonder whether the officer -commanding the post did not chance to send some men here with -instructions to take the papers off Rosenthal, whom he knew to be dead." - -"But . . ." - -"That'll do. Have Rosenthal seen to and let's be off." - -"Am I to go with you, _Excellenz_?" - -"No, there's no need. One of the boats will take me up the canal. The -house is not forty minutes from here." - -In answer to the spy's call, three soldiers came down and hoisted the -dead man's body to the trap-door overhead. Karl and the major both -remained where they were, at the foot of the ladder, while Karl turned -the light of the lantern, which he had taken down from the wall, towards -the trap-door. - -Bernard whispered: - -"Shall we fire now?" - -"No," said Paul. - -"But . . ." - -"I forbid you." - -When the operation was over, the major said to Karl: - -"Give me a good light and see that the ladder doesn't slip." - -He went up and disappeared from sight. - -"All right," he said. "Hurry." - -The spy climbed the ladder in his turn. Their footsteps were heard -overhead. The steps moved in the direction of the canal and there was -not a sound. - -"What on earth came over you?" cried Bernard. "We shall never have -another chance like that. The two ruffians would have dropped at the -first shot." - -"And we after them," said Paul. "There were twelve of them up there. We -should have been doomed." - -"But Elisabeth would have been saved, Paul! Upon my word, I don't -understand you. Fancy having two monsters like that at our mercy and -letting them go! The man who murdered your father and who is torturing -Elisabeth was there; and you think of ourselves!" - -"Bernard," said Paul Delroze, "you didn't understand what they said at -the end, in German. The enemy has been warned of the attack and of our -plans against the ferryman's house. In a little while, the hundred -volunteers who are stealing up through the marsh will be the victims of -an ambush laid for them. We've got to save them first. We have no right -to sacrifice our lives before performing that duty. And I am sure that -you agree with me." - -"Yes," said Bernard. "But all the same it was a grand opportunity." - -"We shall have another and perhaps soon," said Paul, thinking of the -ferryman's house to which Major Hermann was now on his way. - -"Well, what do you propose to do?" - -"I shall join the detachment of volunteers. If the lieutenant in command -is of my opinion, he will not wait until seven to deliver the assault, -but attack at once. And I shall be of the party." - -"And I?" - -"Go back to the colonel. Explain the position to him and tell him that -the ferryman's house will be captured this morning and that we shall -hold it until reinforcements come up." - -They parted with no more words and Paul plunged resolutely into the -marshes. - -The task which he was undertaking did not meet with the obstacles he -expected. After forty minutes of rather difficult progress, he heard the -murmur of voices, gave the password and told the men to take him to the -lieutenant. - -Paul's explanations at once convinced that officer: the job must either -be abandoned or hurried on at once. - -The column went ahead. At three o'clock, guided by a peasant who knew a -path where the men sank no deeper than their knees, they succeeded in -reaching the neighborhood of the house unperceived. Then, when the alarm -had been given by a sentry, the attack began. - -This attack, one of the finest feats of arms in the war, is too well -known to need a detailed description here. It was extremely violent. The -enemy, who was on his guard, made an equally vigorous defense. There was -a tangle of barbed wire to be forced and many pitfalls to be overcome. A -furious hand-to-hand fight took place first outside and then inside the -house; and, by the time that the French had gained the victory after -killing or taking prisoner the eighty-three Germans who defended it, -they themselves had suffered losses which reduced their effective force -by half. - -Paul was the first to leap into the trenches, the line of which ran -beside the house on the left and was extended in a semicircle as far as -the Yser. He had an idea: before the attack succeeded and before it was -even certain that it would succeed, he wanted to cut off all retreat on -the part of the fugitives. - -Driven back at first, he made for the bank, followed by three -volunteers, stepped into the water, went up the canal and thus came to -the other side of the house, where, as he expected, he found a bridge -of boats. - -At that moment, he saw a figure disappearing in the darkness. - -"Stay here," he said to his men, "and let no one pass." - -He himself jumped out of the water, crossed the bridge and began to run. - -A searchlight was thrown on the canal bank and he again perceived the -figure, thirty yards in front of him. - -A minute later, he shouted: - -"Halt, or I fire!" - -And, as the man continued to run, he fired, but aimed so as not to hit -him. - -The fugitive stopped and fired his revolver four times, while Paul, -stooping down, flung himself between his legs and brought him to the -ground. - -The enemy, seeing that he was mastered, offered no resistance. Paul -rolled his cloak round him and took him by the throat. With the hand -that remained free, he threw the light of his pocket-lamp full on the -other's face. - -His instinct had not deceived him: the man he held by the throat was -Major Hermann. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE FERRYMAN'S HOUSE - - -Paul Delroze did not speak a word. Pushing his prisoner in front of him, -after tying the major's wrists behind his back, he returned to the -bridge of boats in the darkness illumined by brief flashes of light. - -The fighting continued. But a certain number of the enemy tried to run -away; and, when the volunteers who guarded the bridge received them with -a volley of fire, the Germans thought that they had been cut off; and -this diversion hastened their defeat. - -When Paul arrived, the combat was over. But the enemy was bound, sooner -or later, to deliver a counter-attack, supported by the reinforcements -that had been promised to the commandant; and the defense was prepared -forthwith. - -The ferryman's house, which had been strongly fortified by the Germans -and surrounded with trenches, consisted of a ground floor and an upper -story of three rooms, now knocked into one. At the back of this large -room, however, was a recess with a sloping roof, reached by three steps, -which at one time had done duty as a servant's attic. Paul, who was -entrusted with the arrangement of this upper floor, brought his prisoner -here. He laid him on the floor, bound him with a cord and fastened him -to a beam; and, while doing so, he was seized with such a paroxysm of -hatred that he took him by the throat as though to strangle him. - -He mastered himself, however. After all, there was no hurry. Before -killing the man or handing him over to the soldiers to be shot against -the wall, why deny himself the supreme satisfaction of having an -explanation with him? - -When the lieutenant entered, Paul said, so as to be heard by all and -especially by the major: - -"I recommend that scoundrel to your care, lieutenant. It's Major -Hermann, one of the chief spies in the German army. I have the proofs on -me. Remember that, in case anything happens to me. And, if we should -have to retreat. . . ." - -The lieutenant smiled: - -"There's no question of that. We shall not retreat, for the very good -reason that I would rather blow up the shanty first. And Major Hermann, -therefore, would be blown up with us. So make your mind easy." - -The two officers discussed the defensive measures to be adopted; and the -men quickly got to work. - -First of all, the bridge of boats was unmade, trenches dug along the -canal and the machine-guns turned to face the other way. Paul, on his -first floor, had the sandbags moved from the one side of the house to -the other and the less solid-looking portions of the wall shored up with -beams. - -At half-past five, under the rays of the German flashlights, several -shells fell round about. One of them struck the house. The big guns -began to sweep the towpath. - -A few minutes before daybreak, a detachment of cyclists arrived by this -path, with Bernard d'Andeville at their head. He explained that two -companies and a section of sappers in advance of a complete battalion -had started, but their progress was hampered by the enemy's shells and -they were obliged to skirt the marshes, under the cover of the dyke -supporting the towpath. This had slowed their march; and it would be an -hour before they could arrive. - -"An hour," said the lieutenant. "It will be stiff work. Still, we can do -it. So . . ." - -While he was giving new orders and placing the cyclists at their posts, -Paul came up; and he was just going to tell Bernard of Major Hermann's -capture, when his brother-in-law announced his news: - -"I say, Paul, dad's with me!" - -Paul gave a start: - -"Your father is here? Your father came with you?" - -"Just so; and in the most natural manner. You must know that he had been -looking for an opportunity for some time. By the way, he has been -promoted to interpreter lieutenant. . . ." - -Paul was no longer listening. He merely said to himself: - -"M. d'Andeville is here. . . . M. d'Andeville, the Comtesse Hermine's -husband. He must know, surely. Is she alive or dead? Or has he been the -dupe of a scheming woman to the end and does he still bear a loving -recollection of one who has vanished from his life? But no, that's -incredible, because there is that photograph, taken four years later and -sent to him: sent to him from Berlin! So he knows; and then . . . ?" - -Paul was greatly perplexed. The revelations made by Karl the spy had -suddenly revealed M. d'Andeville in a startling light. And now -circumstances were bringing M. d'Andeville into Paul's presence, at the -very time when Major Hermann had been captured. - -Paul turned towards the attic. The major was lying motionless, with his -face against the wall. - -"Your father has remained outside?" Paul asked his brother-in-law. - -"Yes, he took the bicycle of a man who was riding near us and who was -slightly wounded. Papa is seeing to him." - -"Go and fetch him; and, if the lieutenant doesn't object . . ." - -He was interrupted by the bursting of a shrapnel shell the bullets of -which riddled the sandbags heaped up in the front of them. The day was -breaking. They could see an enemy column looming out of the darkness a -mile away at most. - -"Ready there!" shouted the lieutenant from below. "Don't fire a shot -till I give the order. No one to show himself!" - -It was not until a quarter of an hour later and then only for four or -five minutes that Paul and M. d'Andeville were able to exchange a few -words. Their conversation, moreover, was so greatly hurried that Paul -had no time to decide what attitude he should take up in the presence of -Elisabeth's father. The tragedy of the past, the part which the Comtesse -Hermine's husband played in that tragedy: all this was mingled in his -mind with the defense of the block-house. And, in spite of their great -liking for each other, their greeting was somewhat absent and -distracted. - -Paul was ordering a small window to be stopped with a mattress. Bernard -was posted at the other end of the room. - -M. d'Andeville said to Paul: - -"You're sure of holding out, aren't you?" - -"Absolutely, as we've got to." - -"Yes, you've got to. I was with the division yesterday, with the English -general to whom I am attached as interpreter, when the attack was -decided on. The position seems to be of essential importance; and it is -indispensable that we should stick to it. I saw that this gave me an -opportunity of seeing you, Paul, as I knew that your regiment was to be -here. So I asked leave to accompany the contingent that had been ordered -to. . . ." - -There was a fresh interruption. A shell came through the roof and -shattered the wall on the side opposite to the canal. - -"Any one hurt?" - -"No, sir." - -M. d'Andeville went on: - -"The strangest part of it was finding Bernard at your colonel's last -night. You can imagine how glad I was to join the cyclists. It was my -only chance of seeing something of my boy and of shaking you by the -hand. . . . And then I had no news of my poor Elisabeth; and Bernard -told me. . . ." - -"Ah," said Paul quickly, "has Bernard told you all that happened at the -chateau?" - -"At least, as much as he knew; but there are a good many things that are -difficult to understand; and Bernard says that you have more precise -details. For instance, why did Elisabeth stay at the chateau?" - -"Because she wanted to," said Paul. "I was not told of her decision -until later, by letter." - -"I know. But why didn't you take her with you, Paul?" - -"When I left Ornequin, I made all the necessary arrangements for her to -go." - -"Good. But you ought not to have left Ornequin without her. All the -trouble is due to that." - -M. d'Andeville had been speaking with a certain acerbity, and, as Paul -did not answer, he asked again: - -"Why didn't you take Elisabeth away? Bernard said that there was -something very serious, that you spoke of exceptional circumstances. -Perhaps you won't mind explaining." - -Paul seemed to suspect a latent hostility in M. d'Andeville; and this -irritated him all the more on the part of a man whose conduct now -appeared to him so perplexing: - -"Do you think," he said, "that this is quite the moment?" - -"Yes, yes, yes. We may be separated any minute. . . ." - -Paul did not allow him to finish. He turned abruptly towards his -father-in-law and exclaimed: - -"You are right, sir! It's a horrible idea. It would be terrible if I -were not able to reply to your questions or you to mine. Elisabeth's -fate perhaps depends on the few words which we are about to speak. For -we must know the truth between us. A single word may bring it to light; -and there is no time to be lost. We must speak out now. . . . Whatever -happens." - -His excitement surprised M. d'Andeville, who asked: - -"Wouldn't it be as well to call Bernard over?" - -"No, no," said Paul, "on no account! It's a thing that he mustn't know -about, because it concerns. . . ." - -"Because it concerns whom?" asked M. d'Andeville, who was more and more -astonished. - -A man standing near them was hit by a bullet and fell. Paul rushed to -his assistance; but the man had been shot through the forehead and was -dead. Two more bullets entered through an opening which was wider than -it need be; and Paul ordered it to be partly closed up. - -M. d'Andeville, who had been helping him, pursued the conversation: - -"You were saying that Bernard must not hear because it concerns. . . ." - -"His mother," Paul replied. - -"His mother? What do you mean? His mother? It concerns my wife? I don't -understand. . . ." - -Through the loopholes in the wall they could see three enemy columns -advancing, above the flooded fields, moving forward on narrow causeways -which converged towards the canal opposite the ferryman's house. - -"We shall fire when they are two hundred yards from the canal," said the -lieutenant commanding the volunteers, who had come to inspect the -defenses. "If only their guns don't knock the shanty about too much!" - -"Where are our reinforcements?" asked Paul. - -"They'll be here in thirty or forty minutes. Meantime the seventy-fives -are doing good work." - -The shells were flying through space in both directions, some falling in -the midst of the German columns, others around the blockhouse. Paul ran -to every side, encouraging and directing the men. From time to time he -went to the attic and looked at Major Hermann, who lay perfectly still. -Then Paul returned to his post. - -He did not for a second cease to think of the duty incumbent on him as -an officer and a combatant, nor for a second of what he had to say to M. -d'Andeville. But these two mingled obsessions deprived him of all -lucidity of mind! and he did not know how to come to an explanation with -his father-in-law or how to unravel the tangled position. M. d'Andeville -asked his question several times. He did not reply. - -The lieutenant's voice was raised: - -"Attention! . . . Present! . . . Fire! . . ." - -The command was repeated four times over. The nearest enemy column, -decimated by the bullets, seemed to waver. But the others came up with -it; and it formed up again. - -Two German shells burst against the house. The roof was carried away -bodily, several feet of the frontage were demolished and three men -killed. - -After the storm, a calm. But Paul had so clear a sense of the danger -which threatened them all that he was unable to contain himself any -longer. Suddenly making up his mind, addressing M. d'Andeville without -further preamble, he said: - -"One word in particular. . . . I must know. . . . Are you quite sure -that the Comtesse d'Andeville is dead?" And without waiting for the -reply, he went on: "Yes, you think my question mad. It seems so to you -because you do not know. But I am not mad; and I ask you to answer my -question as you would do if I had the time to state the reasons that -justify me in asking it. Is the Comtesse Hermine dead?" - -M. d'Andeville, restraining his feelings and consenting to adopt the -hypothesis which Paul seemed to insist on, said: - -"Is there any reason that allows you to presume that my wife is still -alive?" - -"There are very serious reasons, I might say, incontestable reasons." - -M. d'Andeville shrugged his shoulders and said, in a firm voice: - -"My wife died in my arms. My lips touched her icy hands, felt that chill -of death which is so horrible in those we love. I myself dressed her, as -she had asked, in her wedding gown; and I was there when they nailed -down the coffin. Anything else?" - -Paul listened to him and thought to himself: - -"Has he spoken the truth? Yes, he has; and still how can I admit -. . . ?" - -Speaking more imperiously, M. d'Andeville repeated: - -"Anything else?" - -"Yes," said Paul, "one more question. There was a portrait in the -Comtesse d'Andeville's boudoir: was that her portrait?" - -"Certainly, her full length portrait." - -"Showing her with a black lace scarf over her shoulders?" - -"Yes, the kind of scarf she liked wearing." - -"And the scarf was fastened in front by a cameo set in a gold snake?" - -"Yes, it was an old cameo which belonged to my mother and which my wife -always wore." - -Paul yielded to thoughtless impulse. M. d'Andeville's assertions seemed -to him so many admissions; and, trembling with rage, he rapped out: - -"Monsieur, you have not forgotten, have you, that my father was -murdered? We often spoke of it, you and I. He was your friend. Well, the -woman who murdered him and whom I saw, the woman whose image has stamped -itself on my brain wore a black lace scarf round her shoulders and a -cameo set in a gold snake. And I found this woman's portrait in your -wife's room. Yes, I saw her portrait on my wedding evening. Do you -understand now? Do you understand or don't you?" - -It was a tragic moment between the two men. M. d'Andeville stood -trembling, with his hands clutching his rifle. - -"Why is he trembling?" Paul asked himself; and his suspicions increased -until they became an actual accusation. "Is it a feeling of protest or -his rage at being unmasked that makes him shake like that? And am I to -look upon him as his wife's accomplice? For, after all. . . ." - -He felt a fierce grip twisting his arm. M. d'Andeville, gray in the -face, blurted out: - -"How dare you? How dare you suggest that my wife murdered your father? -Why, you must be drunk! My wife, a saint in the sight of God and man! -And you dare! Oh, I don't know what keeps me from smashing your face -in!" - -Paul released himself roughly. The two men, shaking with a rage which -was increased by the din of the firing and the madness of their quarrel, -were on the verge of coming to blows while the shells and bullets -whistled all around them. - -Then a new strip of wall fell to pieces. Paul gave his orders and, at -the same time, thought of Major Hermann lying in his corner, to whom he -could have brought M. d'Andeville like a criminal who is confronted with -his accomplice. But why then did he not do so? - -Suddenly remembering the photograph of the Comtesse Hermine which he had -found on Rosenthal's body, he took it from his pocket and thrust it in -front of M. d'Andeville's eyes: - -"And this?" he shouted. "Do you know what this is? . . . There's a date -on it, 1902, and you pretend that the Comtesse Hermine is dead! . . . -Answer me, can't you? A photograph taken in Berlin and sent to you by -your wife four years after her death!" - -M. d'Andeville staggered. It was as though all his rage had evaporated -and was changing into infinite stupefaction. Paul brandished before his -face the overwhelming proof constituted by that bit of cardboard. And -he heard M. d'Andeville mutter: - -"Who can have stolen it from me? It was among my papers in Paris. . . . -Why didn't I tear it up? . . ." Then he added, in a very low whisper, -"Oh, Hermine, Hermine, my adored one!" - -Surely it was an avowal? But, if so, what was the meaning of an avowal -expressed in those terms and with that declaration of love for a woman -laden with crime and infamy? - -The lieutenant shouted from the ground floor: - -"Everybody into the trenches, except ten men. Delroze, keep the best -shots and order independent firing." - -The volunteers, headed by Bernard, hurried downstairs. The enemy was -approaching the canal, in spite of the losses which he had sustained. In -fact, on the right and left, knots of pioneers, constantly renewed, were -already striving with might and main to collect the boats stranded on -the bank. The lieutenant in command of the volunteers formed his men -into a first line of defense against the imminent assault, while the -sharpshooters in the house had orders to kill without ceasing under the -storm of shells. - -One by one, five of these marksmen fell. - -Paul and M. d'Andeville were here, there and everywhere, while -consulting one another as to the commands to be given and the things to -be done. There was not the least chance, in view of their great -inferiority in numbers, that they would be able to resist. But there -was some hope of their holding out until the arrival of the -reinforcements, which would ensure the possession of the blockhouse. - -The French artillery, finding it impossible to secure an effective aim -amid the confusion of the combatants, had ceased fire, whereas the -German guns were still bombarding the house; and shells were bursting at -every moment. - -Yet another man was wounded. He was carried into the attic and laid -beside Major Hermann, where he died almost immediately. - -Outside, there was fighting on and even in the water of the canal, in -the boats and around them. There were hand-to-hand contests amid general -uproar, yells of execration and pain, cries of terror and shouts of -victory. The confusion was so great that Paul and M. d'Andeville found -it difficult to take aim. - -Paul said to his father-in-law: - -"I'm afraid we may be done for before assistance arrives. I am bound -therefore to warn you that the lieutenant has made his arrangements to -blow up the house. As you are here by accident, without any -authorization that gives you the quality or duties of a combatant. -. . ." - -"I am here as a Frenchman," said M. d'Andeville, "and I shall stay on to -the end." - -"Then perhaps we shall have time to finish what we have to say, sir. -Listen to me. I will be as brief as I can. But if you should see the -least glimmer of light, please do not hesitate to interrupt me." - -He fully understood that there was a gulf of darkness between them and -that, whether guilty or not, whether his wife's accomplice or her dupe, -M. d'Andeville must know things which he, Paul, did not know and that -these things could only be made plain by an adequate recital of what had -happened. - -He therefore began to speak. He spoke calmly and deliberately, while M. -d'Andeville listened in silence. And they never ceased firing, quietly -loading, aiming and reloading, as though they were at practise. All -around and above them death pursued its implacable work. - -Paul had hardly described his arrival at Ornequin with Elisabeth, their -entrance into the locked room and his dismay at the sight of the -portrait, when an enormous shell exploded over their heads, spattering -them with shrapnel bullets. - -The four volunteers were hit. Paul also fell, wounded in the neck; and, -though he suffered no pain, he felt that all his ideas were gradually -fading into a mist without his being able to retain them. He made an -effort, however, and by some miracle of will was still able to exercise -a remnant of energy that allowed him to keep his hold on certain -reflections and impressions. Thus he saw his father-in-law kneeling -beside him and succeeded in saying to him: - -"Elisabeth's diary. . . . You'll find it in my kit-bag in camp . . . -with a few pages written by myself . . . which will explain. . . . But -first you must . . . Look, that German officer over there, bound up -. . . he's a spy. . . . Keep an eye on him. . . . Kill him. . . . If -not, on the tenth of January . . . but you will kill him, won't you?" - -Paul could speak no more. Besides, he saw that M. d'Andeville was not -kneeling down to listen to him or help him, but that, himself shot, with -his face bathed in blood, he was bending double and finally fell in a -huddled heap, uttering moans that grew fainter and fainter. - -A great calm now descended on the big room, while the rifles crackled -outside. The German guns were no longer firing. The enemy's -counter-attack must be meeting with success; and Paul, incapable of -moving, lay awaiting the terrible explosion foretold by the lieutenant. - -He pronounced Elisabeth's name time after time. He reflected that no -danger threatened her now, because Major Hermann was also about to die. -Besides, her brother Bernard would know how to defend her. But after a -while this sort of tranquillity disappeared, changed into uneasiness and -then into restless anxiety, giving way to a feeling of which every -second that passed increased the torture. He could not tell whether he -was haunted by a nightmare, by some morbid hallucination. It all -happened on the side of the attic to which he had dragged Major -Hermann. A soldier's dead body was lying between them. And it seemed, to -his horror, as if the major had cut his bonds and were rising to his -feet and looking around him. - -Paul exerted all his strength to open his eyes and keep them open. But -an ever thicker shadow veiled them; and through this shadow he -perceived, as one sees a confused sight in the darkness, the major -taking off his cloak, stooping over the body, removing its blue coat and -buttoning it on himself. Then he put the dead man's cap on his head, -fastened his scarf round his neck, took the soldier's rifle, bayonet and -cartridges and, thus transfigured, stepped down the three wooden stairs. - -It was a terrible vision. Paul would have been glad to doubt his eyes, -to believe in some phantom image born of his fever and delirium. But -everything confirmed the reality of what he saw; and it meant to him the -most infernal suffering. The major was making his escape! - -Paul was too weak to contemplate the position in all its bearings. Was -the major thinking of killing him and of killing M. d'Andeville? Did the -major know that they were there, both of them wounded, within reach of -his hand? Paul never asked himself these questions. One idea alone -obsessed his failing mind. Major Hermann was escaping. Thanks to his -uniform, he would mingle with the volunteers! By the aid of some -signal, he would get back to the Germans! And he would be free! And he -would resume his work of persecution, his deadly work, against -Elisabeth! - -Oh, if the explosion had only taken place! If the ferryman's house could -but be blown up and the major with it! . . . - -Paul still clung to this hope in his half-conscious condition. Meanwhile -his reason was wavering. His thoughts became more and more confused. And -he swiftly sank into that darkness in which one neither sees nor hears. -. . . - - * * * * * - -Three weeks later the general commanding in chief stepped from his motor -car in front of an old chateau in the Bourbonnais, now transformed into -a military hospital. The officer in charge was waiting for him at the -door. - -"Does Second Lieutenant Delroze know that I am coming to see him?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Take me to his room." - -Paul Delroze was sitting up. His neck was bandaged; but his features -were calm and showed no traces of fatigue. Much moved by the presence of -the great chief whose energy and coolness had saved France, he rose to -the salute. But the general gave him his hand and exclaimed, in a kind -and affectionate voice: - -"Sit down, Lieutenant Delroze. . . . I say lieutenant, for you were -promoted yesterday. No, no thanks. By Jove, we are still your debtors! -So you're up and about?" - -"Why, yes, sir. The wound wasn't much." - -"So much the better. I'm satisfied with all my officers; but, for all -that, we don't find fellows like you by the dozen. Your colonel has sent -in a special report about you which sets forth such an array of acts of -incomparable bravery that I have half a mind to break my own rule and to -make the report public." - -"No, please don't, sir." - -"You are right, Delroze. It is the first attribute of heroism that it -likes to remain anonymous; and it is France alone that must have all the -glory for the time being. So I shall be content for the present to -mention you once more in the orders of the day and to hand you the cross -for which you were already recommended." - -"I don't know how to thank you, sir." - -"In addition, my dear fellow, if there's the least thing you want, I -insist that you should give me this opportunity of doing it for you." - -Paul nodded his head and smiled. All this cordial kindness and -attentiveness were putting him at his ease. - -"But suppose I want too much, sir?" - -"Go ahead." - -"Very well, sir, I accept. And what I ask is this: first of all, a -fortnight's sick leave, counting from Saturday, the ninth of January, -the day on which I shall be leaving the hospital." - -"That's not a favor, that's a right." - -"I know, sir. But I must have the right to spend my leave where I -please." - -"Very well." - -"And more than that: I must have in my pocket a permit written in your -own hand, sir, which will give me every latitude to move about as I wish -in the French lines and to call for any assistance that can be of use to -me." - -The general looked at Paul for a moment, and said: - -"That's a serious request you're making, Delroze." - -"Yes, sir, I know it is. But the thing I want to undertake is serious -too." - -"All right, I agree. Anything more?" - -"Yes, sir, Sergeant Bernard d'Andeville, my brother-in-law, took part as -I did in the action at the ferryman's house. He was wounded like myself -and brought to the same hospital, from which he will probably be -discharged at the same time. I should like him to have the same leave -and to receive permission to accompany me." - -"I agree. Anything more?" - -"Bernard's father, Comte Stephane d'Andeville, second lieutenant -interpreter attached to the British army, was also wounded on that day -by my side. I have learnt that his wound, though serious, is not likely -to prove fatal and that he has been moved to an English hospital, I -don't know which. I would ask you to send for him as soon as he is well -and to keep him on your staff until I come to you and report on the task -which I have taken in hand." - -"Very well. Is that all?" - -"Very nearly, sir. It only remains for me to thank you for your kindness -by asking you to give me a list of twenty French prisoners, now in -Germany, in whom you take a special interest. Those twenty prisoners -will be free in a fortnight from now at most." - -"Eh? What's that?" - -For all his coolness, the general seemed a little taken aback. He -echoed: - -"Free in a fortnight from now! Twenty prisoners!" - -"I give you my promise, sir." - -"Don't talk nonsense." - -"It shall be as I say." - -"Whatever the prisoners' rank? Whatever their social position?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"And by regular means, means that can be avowed?" - -"By means to which there can be no possible objection." - -The general looked at Paul again with the eye of a leader who is in the -habit of judging men and reckoning them at their true value. He knew -that the man before him was not a boaster, but a man of action and a -man of his word, who went straight ahead and kept his promises. He -replied: - -"Very well, Delroze, you shall have your list to-morrow." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -A MASTERPIECE OF KULTUR - - -On the morning of Sunday, the tenth of January, Lieutenant Delroze and -Sergeant d'Andeville stepped on to the platform at Corvigny, went to -call on the commandant of the town and then took a carriage in which -they drove to the Chateau d'Ornequin. - -"All the same," said Bernard, stretching out his legs in the fly, "I -never thought that things would turn out as they have done when I was -hit by a splinter of shrapnel between the Yser and the ferryman's house. -What a hot corner it was just then! Believe me or believe me not, Paul, -if our reinforcements hadn't come up, we should have been done for in -another five minutes. We were jolly lucky!" - -"We were indeed," said Paul. "I felt that next day, when I woke up in a -French ambulance!" - -"What I can't get over, though," Bernard continued, "is the way that -blackguard of a Major Hermann made off. So you took him prisoner? And -then you saw him unfasten his bonds and escape? The cheek of the rascal! -You may be sure he got away safe and sound!" - -Paul muttered: - -"I haven't a doubt of it; and I don't doubt either that he means to -carry out his threats against Elisabeth." - -"Bosh! We have forty-eight hours before us, as he gave his pal Karl the -tenth of January as the date of his arrival and he won't act until two -days later." - -"And suppose he acts to-day?" said Paul, in a husky voice. - -Notwithstanding his anguish, however, the drive did not seem long to -him. He was at last approaching--and this time really--the object from -which each day of the last four months had removed him to a greater -distance. Ornequin was on the frontier; and Ebrecourt was but a few -minutes from the frontier. He refused to think of the obstacles which -would intervene before he could reach Ebrecourt, discover his wife's -retreat and save her. He was alive. Elisabeth was alive. No obstacles -existed between him and her. - -The Chateau d'Ornequin, or rather what remained of it--for even the -ruins of the chateau had been subjected to a fresh bombardment in -November--was serving as a cantonment for territorial troops, whose -first line of trenches skirted the frontier. There was not much fighting -on this side, because, for tactical reasons, it was not to the enemy's -advantage to push too far forward. The defenses were of equal strength; -and a very active watch was kept on either side. - -These were the particulars which Paul obtained from the territorial -lieutenant with whom he lunched. - -"My dear fellow," concluded the officer, after Paul had told him the -object of his journey, "I am altogether at your service; but, if it's a -question of getting from Ornequin to Ebrecourt, you can make up your -mind that you won't do it." - -"I shall do it all right." - -"It'll have to be through the air then," said the officer, with a laugh. - -"No." - -"Or underground." - -"Perhaps." - -"There you're wrong. We wanted ourselves to do some sapping and mining. -It was no use. We're on a deposit of rock in which it's impossible to -dig." - -It was Paul's turn to smile: - -"My dear chap, if you'll just be kind enough to lend me for one hour -four strong men armed with picks and shovels, I shall be at Ebrecourt -to-night." - -"I say! Four men to dig a six-mile tunnel through the rock in an hour!" - -"That's ample. Also, you must promise absolute secrecy both as to the -means employed and the rather curious discoveries to which they are -bound to lead. I shall make a report to the general commanding in chief; -but no one else is to know." - -"Very well, I'll select my four fellows for you myself. Where am I to -bring them to you?" - -"On the terrace, near the donjon." - -This terrace commands the Liseron from a height of some hundred and -fifty feet and, in consequence of a loop in the river, is exactly -opposite Corvigny, whose steeple and the neighboring hills are seen in -the distance. Of the castle-keep nothing remains but its enormous base, -which is continued by the foundation-walls, mingled with natural rocks, -which support the terrace. A garden extends its clumps of laurels and -spindle-trees to the parapet. - -It was here that Paul went. Time after time he strode up and down the -esplanade, leaning over the river and inspecting the blocks that had -fallen from the keep under the mantle of ivy. - -"Now then," said the lieutenant, on arriving with his men. "Is this your -starting-point? I warn you we are standing with our backs to the -frontier." - -"Pooh!" replied Paul, in the same jesting tone. "All roads lead to -Berlin!" - -He pointed to a circle which he had marked out with stakes, and set the -men to work: - -"Go ahead, my lads." - -They began to throw up, within a circle of three yards in circumference, -a soil consisting of vegetable mold in which, in twenty minutes' time, -they had dug a hole five feet deep. Here they came upon a layer of -stones cemented together; and their work now became much more difficult, -for the cement was of incredible hardness and they were only to break it -up by inserting their picks into the cracks. Paul followed the -operations with anxious attention. - -After an hour, he told them to stop. He himself went down into the hole -and then went on digging, but slowly and as though examining the effect -of every blow that he struck. - -"That's it!" he said, drawing himself up. - -"What?" asked Bernard. - -"The ground on which we are standing is only a floor of the big -buildings that used to adjoin the old keep, buildings which were razed -to the ground centuries ago and on the top of which this garden was laid -out." - -"Well?" - -"Well, in clearing away the soil, I have broken through the ceiling of -one of the old rooms. Look." - -He took a stone, placed it right in the center of the narrower opening -which he himself had made and let it drop. The stone disappeared. A dull -sound followed almost immediately. - -"All that need now be done is for the men to widen the entrance. In the -meantime, we will go and fetch a ladder and lights: as much light as -possible." - -"We have pine torches," said the officer. - -"That will do capitally." - -Paul was right. When the ladder was let down and he had descended with -the lieutenant and Bernard, they saw a very large hall, whose vaults -were supported by massive pillars which divided it, like a church of -irregular design, into two main naves, with narrower and lower -side-aisles. - -But Paul at once called his companions' attention to the floor of those -two naves: - -"A concrete flooring, do you see? . . . And, look there, as I expected, -two rails running along one of the upper galleries! . . . And here are -two more rails in the other gallery! . . ." - -"But what does it all mean?" exclaimed Bernard and the lieutenant. - -"It means simply this," said Paul, "that we have before us what is -evidently the explanation of the great mystery surrounding the capture -of Corvigny and its two forts." - -"How?" - -"Corvigny and its two forts were demolished in a few minutes, weren't -they? Where did those gunshots come from, considering that Corvigny is -fifteen miles from the frontier and that not one of the enemy's guns had -crossed the frontier? They came from here, from this underground -fortress." - -"Impossible." - -"Here are the rails on which they moved the two gigantic pieces which -were responsible for the bombardment." - -"I say! You can't bombard from the bottom of a cavern! Where are the -embrasures?" - -"The rails will take us there. Show a good light, Bernard. Look, here's -a platform mounted on a pivot. It's a good size, eh? And here's the -other platform." - -"But the embrasures?" - -"In front of you, Bernard." - -"That's a wall." - -"It's the wall which, together with the rock of the hill, supports the -terrace above the Liseron, opposite Corvigny. And two circular breaches -were made in the wall and afterwards closed up again. You can see the -traces of the closing quite plainly." - -Bernard and the lieutenant could not get over their astonishment: - -"Why, it's an enormous work!" said the officer. - -"Absolutely colossal!" replied Paul. "But don't be too much surprised, -my dear fellow. It was begun sixteen or seventeen years ago, to my own -knowledge. Besides, as I told you, part of the work was already done, -because we are in the lower rooms of the old Ornequin buildings; and, -having found them, all they had to do was to arrange them according to -the object which they had in view. There is something much more -astounding, though!" - -"What is that?" - -"The tunnel which they had to build in order to bring their two pieces -here." - -"A tunnel?" - -"Well, of course! How do you expect they got here? Let's follow the -rails, in the other direction, and we'll soon come to the tunnel." - -As he anticipated, the two sets of rails joined a little way back and -they saw the yawning entrance to a tunnel about nine feet wide and the -same height. It dipped under ground, sloping very gently. The walls were -of brick. No damp oozed through the walls; and the ground itself was -perfectly dry. - -"Ebrecourt branch-line," said Paul, laughing. "Seven miles in the shade. -And that is how the stronghold of Corvigny was bagged. First, a few -thousand men passed through, who killed off the little Ornequin garrison -and the posts on the frontier and then went on to the town. At the same -time, the two huge guns were brought up, mounted and trained upon sites -located beforehand. When these had done their business, they were -removed and the holes stopped up. All this didn't take two hours." - -"But to achieve those two decisive hours the Kaiser worked for seventeen -years, bless him!" said Bernard. "Well, let's make a start." - -"Would you like my men to go with you?" suggested the lieutenant. - -"No, thank you. It's better that my brother-in-law and I should go by -ourselves. If we find, however, that the enemy has destroyed his tunnel, -we will come back and ask for help. But it will astonish me if he has. -Apart from the fact that he has taken every precaution lest the -existence of the tunnel should be discovered, he is likely to have kept -it intact in case he himself might want to use it again." - -And so, at three o'clock in the afternoon, the two brothers-in-law -started on their walk down the imperial tunnel, as Bernard called it. -They were well armed, supplied with provisions and ammunition and -resolved to pursue the adventure to the end. - -In a few minutes, that is to say, two hundred yards farther on, the -light of their pocket-lantern showed them the steps of a staircase on -their right. - -"First turning," remarked Paul. "I take it there must be at least three -of them." - -"Where does the staircase lead to?" - -"To the chateau, obviously. And, if you want to know to what part, I -say, to the room with the portrait. There's no doubt that this is the -way by which Major Hermann entered the chateau on the evening of the day -when we attacked it. He had his accomplice Karl with him. Seeing our -names written on the wall, they stabbed the two men sleeping in the -room, Private Geriflour and his comrade." - -Bernard d'Andeville stopped short: - -"Look here, Paul, you've been bewildering me all day. You're acting with -the most extraordinary insight, going straight to the right place at -which to dig, describing all that happened as if you had been there, -knowing everything and foreseeing everything. I never suspected you of -that particular gift. Have you been studying Sherlock Holmes?" - -"Not even Arsene Lupin," said Paul, moving on again. "But I've been ill -and I have thought things over. Certain passages in Elisabeth's diary, -in which she spoke of her perplexing discoveries, gave me the first -hint. I began by asking myself why the Germans had taken such pains to -create a desert all around the chateau. And in this way, putting two and -two together, drawing inference after inference, examining the past and -the present, remembering my meeting with the German Emperor and a -number of things which are all linked together, I ended by coming to the -conclusion that there was bound to be a secret communication between the -German and the French sides of the frontier, terminating at the exact -place from which it was possible to fire on Corvigny. It seemed to me -that, _a priori_, this place must be the terrace; and I became quite -sure of it when, just now, I saw on the terrace a dead tree, overgrown -with ivy, near which Elisabeth thought that she heard sounds coming from -underground. From that moment, I had nothing to do but get to work." - -"And your object is . . . ?" asked Bernard. - -"I have only one object: to deliver Elisabeth." - -"Your plan?" - -"I haven't one. Everything will depend on circumstances; but I am -convinced that I am on the right track." - -In fact all his surmises were proving to be correct. In ten minutes they -reached a space where another tunnel, also supplied with rails, branched -off to the right. - -"Second turning," said Paul. "Corvigny Road. It was down here that the -Germans marched to the town and took our troops by surprise before they -even had time to assemble; it was down here that the peasant-woman went -who accosted you in the evening. The outlet must be at some distance -from the town, perhaps in a farm belonging to the supposed -peasant-woman." - -"And the third turning?" said Bernard. - -"Here it is." - -"Another staircase?" - -"Yes; and I have no doubt that it leads to the chapel. We may safely -presume that, on the day when my father was murdered, the Emperor had -come to examine the works which he had ordered and which were being -executed under the supervision of the woman who accompanied him. The -chapel, which at that time was not inside the walls of the park, is -evidently one of the exits from the secret network of roads of which we -are following the main thoroughfare." - -Paul saw two more of these ramifications, which, judging from their -position and direction, must issue near the frontier, thus completing a -marvelous system of espionage and invasion. - -"It's wonderful," said Bernard. "It's admirable. If this isn't Kultur, I -should like to know what is. One can see that these people have the true -sense of war. The idea of digging for twenty years at a tunnel intended -for the possible bombardment of a tiny fortress would never have -occurred to a Frenchman. It needs a degree of civilization to which we -can't lay claim. Did you ever know such beggars!" - -His enthusiasm increased still further when he observed that the roof of -the tunnel was supplied with ventilating-shafts. But at last Paul -enjoined him to keep silent or to speak in a whisper: - -"You can imagine that, as they thought fit to preserve their lines of -communication, they must have done something to make them unserviceable -to the French. Ebrecourt is not far off. Perhaps there are -listening-posts, sentries posted at the right places. These people leave -nothing to chance." - -One thing that lent weight to Paul's remark was the presence, between -the rails, of those cast-iron slabs which covered the chambers of mines -laid in advance, so that they could be exploded by electricity. The -first was numbered five, the second four; and so on. Paul and Bernard -avoided them carefully; and this delayed their progress, for they no -longer dared switch on their lamps except at brief intervals. - -At about seven o'clock they heard or rather they seemed to hear confused -sounds of life and movement on the ground overhead. They felt deeply -moved. The soil above them was German soil; and the echo brought the -sounds of German life. - -"It's curious, you know, that the tunnel isn't better watched and that -we have been able to come so far without accident." - -"We'll give them a bad mark for that," said Bernard. "Kultur has made a -slip." - -Meanwhile a brisker draught blew along the walls. The outside air -entered in cool gusts; and they suddenly saw a distant light through the -darkness. It was stationary. Everything around it seemed still, as -though it were one of those fixed signals which are put up near a -railway. - -When they came closer, they perceived that it was the light of an -electric arc-lamp, that it was burning inside a shed standing at the -exit of the tunnel and its rays were cast upon great white cliffs and -upon little mounds of sand and pebbles. - -Paul whispered: - -"Those are quarries. By placing the entrance to their tunnel there, they -were able to continue their works in time of peace without attracting -attention. You may be sure that those so-called quarries were worked -very discreetly, in a compound to which the workmen were confined." - -"What Kultur!" Bernard repeated. - -He felt Paul's hand grip his arm. Something had passed in front of the -light, like a shadow rising and falling immediately after. - -With infinite caution they crawled up to the shed and raised themselves -until their eyes were on a level with the windows. Inside were half a -dozen soldiers, all lying down, or rather sprawling one across the -other, among empty bottles, dirty plates, greasy paper wrappers and -remnants of broken victuals. They were the men told off to guard the -tunnel; and they were dead-drunk. - -"More Kultur," said Bernard. - -"We're in luck," said Paul, "and I now understand why the watch is so -ill-kept: this is Sunday." - -There was a telegraph-apparatus on a table and a telephone on the wall; -and Paul saw under a glass case a switch-board with five brass handles, -which evidently corresponded by electric wires with the five -mine-chambers in the tunnel. - -When they passed on, Bernard and Paul continued to follow the rails -along the bed of a narrow channel, hollowed out of the rock, which led -them to an open space bright with many lights. A whole village lay -before them, consisting of barracks inhabited by soldiers whom they saw -moving to and fro. They went outside it. They then noticed the sound of -a motor-car and the blinding rays of two head-lights; and, after -climbing a fence and passing through a shrubbery, they saw a large villa -lit up from top to bottom. - -The car stopped in front of the doorstep, where some footmen were -standing, as well as a guard of soldiers. Two officers and a lady -wrapped in furs alighted. When the car turned, the lights revealed a -large garden, contained within very high walls. - -"It is just as I thought," said Paul. "This forms the counterpart of the -Chateau d'Ornequin. At either end there are strong walls which allow -work to be done unobserved by prying eyes. The terminus is in the open -air here, instead of underground, as it is down there; but at least the -quarries, the work-yards, the barracks, the garrison, the villa -belonging to the staff, the garden, the stables, all this military -organization is surrounded by walls and no doubt guarded on the outside -by sentries. That explains why one is able to move about so freely -inside." - -At that moment, a second motor-car set down three officers and then -joined the other in the coach-house. - -"There's a dinner-party on," said Bernard. - -They resolved to approach as near as they could, under cover of the -thick clumps of shrubs planted along the carriage-drive which surrounded -the house. - -They waited for some time; and then, from the sound of voices and -laughter that came from the ground-floor, at the back, they concluded -that this must be the scene of the banquet and that the guests were -sitting down to dinner. There were bursts of song, shouts of applause. -Outside, nothing stirred. The garden was deserted. - -"The place seems quiet," said Paul. "I shall ask you to give me a leg up -and to keep hidden yourself." - -"You want to climb to the ledge of one of the windows? What about the -shutters?" - -"I don't expect they're very close. You can see the light shining -through the middle." - -"Well, but why are you doing it? There is no reason to bother about this -house more than any other." - -"Yes, there is. You yourself told me that one of the wounded prisoners -said Prince Conrad had taken up his quarters in a villa outside -Ebrecourt. Now this one, standing in the middle of a sort of entrenched -camp and at the entrance to the tunnel, seems to me marked out. . . ." - -"Not to mention this really princely dinner-party," said Bernard, -laughing. "You're right. Up you go." - -They crossed the walk. With Bernard's assistance, Paul was easily able -to grip the ledge above the basement floor and to hoist himself to the -stone balcony. - -"That's it," he said. "Go back to where we were and whistle in case of -danger." - -After bestriding the balustrade, he carefully loosened one of the -shutters by passing first his fingers and then his hand through the -intervening space; and he succeeded in unfastening the bolt. The -curtains, being crossed inside, enabled him to move about unseen; but -they were open at the top, leaving an inverted triangle through which he -could see by climbing on to the balustrade. - -He did so and then bent forward and looked. - -The sight that met his eyes was such and gave him so horrible a blow -that his legs began to shake beneath him. . . . - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -PRINCE CONRAD MAKES MERRY - - -A table running parallel with the three windows of the room. An -incredible collection of bottles, decanters and glasses, hardly leaving -room for the dishes of cake and fruit. Ornamental side-dishes flanked by -bottles of champagne. A basket of flowers surrounded by liqueur-bottles. - -Twenty persons were seated at table, including half-a-dozen women in -low-necked dresses. The others were officers, covered with gold lace and -orders. - -In the middle, facing the window, sat Prince Conrad, presiding over the -banquet, with a lady on his right and another on his left. And it was -the sight of these three, brought together in the most improbable -defiance of the logic of things, that caused Paul to undergo a torture -which was renewed from moment to moment. - -That one of the two women should be there, on the prince's right, -sitting stiff-backed in her plum-colored stuff gown, with a black-lace -scarf half-hiding her short hair, was easy to understand. But the other -woman, to whom Prince Conrad kept turning with a clumsy affectation of -gallantry, that woman whom Paul contemplated with horror-struck eyes and -whom he would have liked to strangle where she sat, what was she doing -there? What was Elisabeth doing in the midst of those tipsy officers and -dubious German women, beside Prince Conrad and beside the monstrous -creature who was pursuing her with her hatred? - -The Comtesse Hermine d'Andeville! Elisabeth d'Andeville! The mother and -the daughter! There was no plausible argument that would allow Paul to -apply any other description to the prince's two companions. And -something happened to give this description its full value of hideous -reality when, a moment later, Prince Conrad rose to his feet, with a -glass of champagne in his hand, and shouted: - -"_Hoch! Hoch! Hoch!_ Here's to the health of our very wideawake friend!" - -"_Hoch! Hoch! Hoch!_" shouted the band of guests. "The Comtesse -Hermine!" - -She took up a glass, emptied it at a draught and began to make a speech -which Paul could not hear, while the others did their best to listen -with a fervent attention which was all the more meritorious in view of -their copious libations. - -And Elisabeth also sat and listened. She was wearing a gray gown which -Paul knew well, quite a simple frock, cut very high in the neck and with -sleeves that came down to her wrists. But from her throat a wonderful -necklace, consisting of four rows of large pearls, hung over her bodice; -and this necklace Paul did not know. - -"The wretch! The wretch!" he spluttered. - -She was smiling. Yes, he saw on the younger woman's lips a smile -provoked by something that Prince Conrad said as he bent over her. And -the prince gave such a boisterous laugh that the Comtesse Hermine, who -was still speaking, called him to order by tapping him on the hand with -her fan. - -The whole scene was a horrible one for Paul; and he suffered such -scorching anguish that his one idea was to get away, to see no more, to -abandon the struggle and to drive this hateful wife of his out of his -life and out of his memory. - -"She is a true daughter of the Comtesse Hermine," he thought, in -despair. - -He was on the point of going, when a little incident held him back. -Elisabeth raised to her eyes a handkerchief which she held crumpled in -the hollow of her hand and furtively wiped away a tear that was ready to -flow. At the same time he perceived that she was terribly pale, not with -a factitious pallor, which until then he had attributed to the crudeness -of the light, but with a real and deathly pallor. It was as though all -the blood had fled from her poor face. And, after all, what a melancholy -smile was that which had twisted her lips in response to the prince's -jest! - -"But then what is she doing here?" Paul asked himself. "Am I not -entitled to regard her as guilty and to suppose that her tears are due -to remorse? She has become cowardly through fear, threats and the wish -to live; and now she is crying." - -He continued to insult her in his thoughts; but gradually he felt a -great pity steal over him for the woman who had not had the strength to -endure her intolerable trials. - -Meanwhile, the Comtesse Hermine made an end of her speech. She drank -again, swallowing bumper after bumper and each time flinging her glass -behind her. The officers and their women followed her example. -Enthusiastic _Hochs_ were raised from every side; and, in a drunken fit -of patriotism, the prince got on his feet and struck up "_Deutschland -ueber Alles_," the others joining in the chorus with a sort of frenzy. - -Elisabeth had put her elbows on the table and her hands before her face, -as though trying to isolate herself from her surroundings. But the -prince, still standing and bawling, took her two arms and brutally -forced them apart: - -"None of your monkey-tricks, pretty one!" - -She gave a movement of repulsion which threw him beside himself. - -"What's all this? Sulking? And blubbering? A nice thing! And, bless my -soul, what do I see? Madame's glass is full!" - -He took the glass and, with a shaky hand, put it to Elisabeth's lips: - -"Drink my health, child! The health of your lord and master! What's -this? You refuse? . . . Ah, I see, you don't like champagne! Quite -right! Down with champagne! What you want is hock, good Rhine wine, eh, -baby? You're thinking of one of your country's songs: 'We held it once, -your German Rhine! It babbled in our brimming glass!' Rhine wine, -there!" - -With one movement, the officers rose and started shouting: - - _Die Wacht am Rhein_ - - "They shall not have our German Rhine, - Tho' like a flock of hungry crows - They shriek their lust . . ." - -"No, they shan't have it," rejoined the prince, angrily, "but you shall -drink it, little one!" - -Another glass had been filled. Once more he tried to force Elisabeth to -lift it to her lips; and, when she pushed it away, he began to whisper -in her ear, while the wine dribbled over her dress. - -Everybody was silent, waiting to see what would happen. Elisabeth turned -paler than ever, but did not move. The prince, leaning over her, showed -the face of a brute who alternately threatens, pleads, commands and -insults. It was a heart-rending sight. Paul would have given his life to -see Elisabeth yield to a fit of disgust and stab her insulter. Instead -of that, she threw back her head, closed her eyes and half-swooning, -accepted the chalice and swallowed a few mouthfuls. - -The prince gave a shout of triumph as he waved the glass on high; then -he put his lips, avidly, to the place at which she had drunk and emptied -it at a draught. - -"_Hoch! Hoch!_" he roared. "Up, comrades! Every one on his chair, with -one foot on the table! Up, conquerors of the world! Sing the strength of -Germany! Sing German gallantry! - - "'The Rhine, the free, the German Rhine - They shall not have while gallant boys - Still tell of love to slender maids. . . .' - -"Elisabeth, I have drunk Rhine wine from your glass. Elisabeth, I know -what you are thinking. Her thoughts are of love, my comrades! I am the -master! Oh, Parisienne! . . . You dear little Parisienne! . . . It's -Paris we want! . . . Oh, Paris, Paris! . . ." - -His foot slipped. The glass fell from his hand and smashed against the -neck of a bottle. He dropped on his knees on the table, amid a crash of -broken plates and glasses, seized a flask of liqueur and rolled to the -floor, stammering: - -"We want Paris. . . . Paris and Calais. . . . Papa said so. . . . The -Arc de Triomphe! . . . The Cafe Anglais! . . . A _cabinet particulier_ -at the Cafe Anglais! . . ." - -The uproar suddenly stopped. The Comtesse Hermine's imperious voice was -raised in command: - -"Go away, all of you! Go home! And be quick about it, gentlemen, if you -please." - -The officers and the ladies soon made themselves scarce. Outside, on the -other side of the house, there was a great deal of whistling. The cars -at once drove up from the garage. A general departure took place. - -Meanwhile the Countess had beckoned to the servants and, pointing to -Prince Conrad, said: - -"Carry him to his room." - -The prince was removed at once. Then the Comtesse Hermine went up to -Elisabeth. - -Not five minutes had elapsed since the prince rolled under the table; -and, after the din of the banquet, a great silence reigned in the -disorderly room where the two women were now by themselves. Elisabeth -had once more hidden her head in her hands and was weeping violently -with sobs that shook her shoulders. The Comtesse Hermine sat down beside -her and gently touched her on the arm. - -The two women looked at each other without a word. It was a strange -glance that they exchanged, a glance laden with mutual hatred. Paul did -not take his eyes from them. As he watched the two of them, he could not -doubt that they had met before and that the words which they were about -to speak were but the sequel and conclusion of some earlier discussion. -But what discussion? And what did Elisabeth know of the Comtesse -Hermine? Did she accept that woman, for whom she felt such loathing, as -her mother? - -Never were two human beings distinguished by a greater difference in -physical appearance and above all by expressions of face denoting more -opposite natures. And yet how powerful was the series of proofs that -linked them together! These were no longer proofs, but rather the -factors of so actual a reality that Paul did not even dream of -discussing them. Besides, M. d'Andeville's confusion when confronted -with the countess' photograph, a photograph taken in Berlin some years -after her pretended death, showed that M. d'Andeville was an accessory -to that pretended death and perhaps an accessory to many other things. - -And Paul came back to the question provoked by the agonizing encounter -between the mother and daughter: what did Elisabeth know of it all? What -insight had she been able to obtain into the whole monstrous -conglomeration of shame, infamy, treachery and crime? Was she accusing -her mother? And, feeling herself crushed under the weight of the crimes, -did she hold her responsible for her own lack of courage? - -"Yes, of course she does," thought Paul. "But why so much hatred? There -is a hatred between them which only death can quench. And the longing to -kill is perhaps even more violent in the eyes of Elisabeth than in -those of the woman who has come to kill her." - -Paul felt this impression so keenly that he really expected one or the -other to take some immediate action; and he began to cast about for a -means of saving Elisabeth. But an utterly unforeseen thing happened. The -Comtesse Hermine took from her pocket one of those large road-maps which -motorists use, placed her finger at one spot, followed the red line of a -road to another spot and, stopping, spoke a few words that seemed to -drive Elisabeth mad with delight. - -She seized the countess by the arm and began to talk to her feverishly, -in words interrupted by alternate laughing and sobbing, while the -countess nodded her head and seemed to be saying: - -"That's all right. . . . We are agreed. . . . Everything shall be as you -wish. . . ." - -Paul thought that Elisabeth was actually going to kiss her enemy's hand, -for she seemed overcome with joy and gratitude; and he was anxiously -wondering into what new trap the poor thing had fallen, when the -countess rose, walked to a door and opened it. - -She beckoned to some one outside and then came back again. - -A man entered, dressed in uniform. And Paul now understood. The man whom -the Comtesse Hermine was admitting was Karl the spy, her confederate, -the agent of her designs, the man whom she was entrusting with the task -of killing Elisabeth, whose last hour had struck. - -Karl bowed. The Comtesse Hermine introduced the man to Elisabeth and -then, pointing to the road and the two places on the map, explained what -was expected of him. He took out his watch and made a gesture as though -to say: - -"It shall be done at such-and-such a time." - -Thereupon, at the countess' suggestion, Elisabeth left the room. - -Although Paul had not caught a single word of what was said, this brief -scene was, for him, pregnant with the plainest and most terrifying -significance. The countess, using her absolute power and taking -advantage of the fact that Prince Conrad was asleep, was proposing a -plan of escape to Elisabeth, doubtless a flight by motor-car, towards a -spot in the neighboring district thought out in advance. Elisabeth was -accepting this unhoped-for deliverance. And the flight would take place -under the management and protection of Karl! - -The trap was so well-laid and Elisabeth, driven mad with suffering, was -rushing into it so confidently that the two accomplices, on being left -alone, looked at each other and laughed. The trick was really too easy; -and there was no merit in succeeding under such conditions. - -There next took place between them, even before any explanation was -entered into, a short pantomime: two movements, no more; but they were -marked with diabolical cynicism. With his eyes fixed on the countess, -Karl the spy opened his jacket and drew a dagger half-way out of its -sheath. The countess made a sign of disapproval and handed the scoundrel -a little bottle which he took with a shrug of the shoulders, apparently -saying: - -"As you please! It's all the same to me!" - -Then, sitting side by side, they embarked on a lively conversation, the -countess giving her instructions, while Karl expressed his approval or -his dissent. - -Paul had a feeling that, if he did not master his dismay, if he did not -stop the disordered beating of his heart, Elisabeth was lost. To save -her, he must keep his brain absolutely clear and take immediate -resolutions, as circumstances demanded, without giving himself time to -reflect or hesitate. And these resolutions he could only take at a -venture and perhaps erroneously, because he did not really know the -enemy's plans. Nevertheless he cocked his revolver. - -He was at that moment presuming that, when Elisabeth was ready to start, -she would return to the room and go away with the spy; but presently the -countess struck a bell on the table and spoke a few words to the servant -who appeared. The man went out. Paul heard two whistles, followed by the -hum of an approaching motor. - -Karl looked through the open door and down the passage. Then he turned -to the countess, as though to say: - -"Here she is. . . . She's coming down the stairs. . . ." - -Paul now understood that Elisabeth would go straight to the car and that -Karl would join her there. If so, it was a case for immediate action. - -For a second he remained undecided. Should he take advantage of the fact -that Karl was still there, burst into the room and shoot both him and -the countess dead? It would mean saving Elisabeth, because it was only -those two miscreants who had designs upon her life. But he dreaded the -failure of so daring an attempt and, jumping from the balcony, he called -Bernard. - -"Elisabeth is going off in a motor-car. Karl is with her and has been -told to poison her. Get out your revolver and come with me." - -"What do you intend to do?" - -"We shall see." - -They went round the villa, slipping through the bushes that bordered the -drive. The whole place, moreover, was deserted. - -"Listen," said Bernard, "there's a car going off." - -Paul, at first greatly alarmed, protested: - -"No, no, it's only the noise of the engine." - -In fact, when they came within sight of the front of the house, they saw -at the foot of the steps a closed car surrounded by a group of some -dozen soldiers. Its head-lamps, while lighting up one part of the -garden, left the spot where Paul and Bernard stood in darkness. - -A woman came down the steps and disappeared inside the car. - -"Elisabeth," said Paul. "And here comes Karl. . . ." - -The spy stopped on the bottom step and gave his orders to the soldier -who acted as chauffeur. Paul caught a syllable here and there. - -Their departure was imminent. Another moment and, if Paul raised no -obstacle, the car would carry off the assassin and his victim. It was a -horrible minute, for Paul Delroze felt all the danger attending an -interference which would not even possess the merit of being effective, -since Karl's death would not prevent the Comtesse Hermine from pursuing -her ends. - -Bernard whispered: - -"Surely you don't mean to carry away Elisabeth? There's a whole picket -of sentries there." - -"I mean to do only one thing, to do for Karl." - -"And then?" - -"Then they'll take us prisoners. We shall be questioned, cross-examined; -there will be a scandal. Prince Conrad will take the matter up." - -"And we shall be shot. I confess that your plan . . ." - -"Can you propose a better one?" - -He broke off. Karl the spy had flown into a rage and was storming at -his chauffeur; and Paul heard him shout: - -"You damned ass! You're always doing it! No petrol. . . . Where do you -think we shall find petrol in the middle of the night? There's some in -the garage, is there? Then run and fetch it, you fat-head! . . . And -where's my fur-coat? You've forgotten it? Go and get it at once. I shall -drive the car myself. I've no use for fools like you! . . ." - -The soldier started running. And Paul at once observed that he himself -would be able to reach the garage, of which he saw the lights, without -having to leave the protecting darkness. - -"Come," he said to Bernard. "I have an idea: you'll see what it is." - -With the sound of their footsteps deadened by a grassy lawn, they made -for that part of the out-houses containing the stables and motor-sheds, -which they were able to enter unseen by those without. The soldier was -in a back-room, the door of which was open. From their hiding-place they -saw him take from a peg a great goat-skin coat, which he threw over his -shoulder, and lay hold of four tins of petrol. Thus laden, he left the -back-room and passed in front of Paul and Bernard. - -The trick was soon done. Before he had time to cry out, he was knocked -down, rendered motionless and gagged. - -"That's that," said Paul. "Now give me his great-coat and his cap. I -would rather have avoided this disguise; but, if you want to be sure of -a thing, you mustn't stick at the means." - -"Then you're going to risk it?" asked Bernard. "Suppose Karl doesn't -recognize his chauffeur?" - -"He won't even think of looking at him." - -"But if he speaks to you?" - -"I shan't answer. Besides, once we are outside the grounds, I shall have -nothing to fear from him." - -"And what am I to do?" - -"You? Bind your prisoner carefully and lock him up in some safe place. -Then go back to the shrubbery beyond the window with the balcony. I hope -to join you there with Elisabeth some time during the middle of the -night; and we shall simply have to go back by the tunnel. If by accident -you don't see me return . . ." - -"Well?" - -"Well, then go back alone before it gets light." - -"But . . ." - -Paul was already moving away. He was in the mood in which a man refuses -to consider the actions which he has decided to perform. Moreover, the -event seemed to prove that he was right. Karl received him with abusive -language, but without paying the least attention to this supernumerary -for whom he could not show enough contempt. The spy put on his fur-coat, -sat down at the wheel and began to handle the levers while Paul took -his seat beside him. - -The car was starting, when a voice from the doorstep called, in a tone -of command: - -"Karl! Stop!" - -Paul felt a moment's anxiety. It was the Comtesse Hermine. She went up -to the spy and, lowering her voice, said, in French: - -"I want you, Karl, to be sure . . . But your driver doesn't know French, -does he?" - -"He hardly knows German, _Excellenz_. He's an idiot. You can speak -freely." - -"What I was going to say is, don't use more than ten drops out of the -bottle, else. . . ." - -"Very well, _Excellenz_. Anything more?" - -"Write to me in a week's time if everything has gone off well. Write to -our Paris address and not before: it would be useless." - -"Then you're going back to France, _Excellenz_?" - -"Yes, my plan is ripe." - -"The same plan?" - -"Yes. The weather is in our favor. It has been raining for days and the -staff have told me that they mean to act on their side. So I shall be -there to-morrow evening; and it will only need a touch of the thumb -. . ." - -"That's it, a touch of the thumb, no more. I've worked at it myself and -everything's ready. But you spoke to me of another plan, to complete the -first; and I confess that that one . . ." - -"It's got to be done. Luck is turning against us. If I succeed, it will -be the end of the run on the black." - -"And have you the Kaiser's consent?" - -"I didn't ask for it. It's one of those undertakings one doesn't talk -about." - -"But this one is terribly dangerous, _Excellenz_." - -"Can't be helped." - -"Sha'n't you want me over there, _Excellenz_?" - -"No. Get rid of the chit for us. That will be enough for the present. -Good-bye." - -"Good-bye, _Excellenz_." - -The spy released the brakes. The car started. - -The drive which ran round the central lawn led to a lodge which stood -beside the garden-gate and which served as a guard-room. The high walls -surrounding the grounds rose on either side of it. - -An officer came out of the lodge. Karl gave the pass-word, -"Hohenstaufen." The gate was opened and the motor dashed down a -high-road which first passed through the little town of Ebrecourt and -next wound among low hills. - -So Paul Delroze, at an hour before midnight, was alone in the open -country, with Elisabeth and Karl the spy. If he succeeded in mastering -the spy, as he did not doubt that he could, Elisabeth would be free. -There would then remain nothing to do but to return to Prince Conrad's -villa, with the aid of the pass-word, and pick up Bernard there. Once -the adventure was completed in accordance with Paul's designs, the -tunnel would bring back all the three of them to the Chateau d'Ornequin. - -Paul therefore gave way to the delight that was stealing over him. -Elisabeth was with him, under his protection: Elisabeth, whose courage, -no doubt, had yielded under the weight of her trials, but who had a -claim upon his indulgence because her misfortunes were due to his fault. -He forgot, he wished to forget all the ugly phases in the tragedy, in -order to think only of the end that was near at hand, his wife's triumph -and deliverance. - -He watched the road attentively, so as not to miss his way when -returning, and planned out his attack, fixing it at the first stop which -they would have to make. He resolved that he would not kill the spy, but -that he would stun him with a blow of his fist and, after knocking him -down and binding him, throw him into some wood by the road-side. - -They came to a fair-sized market-town, then two villages and then a town -where they had to stop and show the car's papers. It was past eleven. - -Then once more they were driving along country lanes which ran through a -series of little woods whose trees lit up as they passed. - -At that moment, the light of the lamps began to fail. Karl slackened -speed. He growled: - -"You dolt, can't you even keep your lamps alight? Have you got any -carbide?" - -Paul did not reply. Karl went on cursing his luck. Suddenly, he put on -the brakes, with an oath: - -"You blasted idiot! One can't go on like this. . . . Here, stir your -stumps and light up." - -Paul sprang from his seat, while the car drew up by the road-side. The -time had come to act. - -He first attended to the lamps, keeping an eye upon the spy's movements -and taking care to stand outside the rays. Karl got down, opened the -door of the car, and started a conversation which Paul could not hear. -Then he came back to where Paul was: - -"Well, pudding-head, haven't you done yet?" - -Paul had his back turned to him, attending to his work and waiting for -the propitious moment when the spy, coming two steps nearer, would be -within his reach. - -A minute elapsed. He clenched his fists. He foresaw the exact movement -which he would have to make and was on the point of making it, when -suddenly he felt himself seized round the body from behind and brought -to the ground without being able to offer the least resistance. - -"Thunder and lightning!" cried the spy, holding him down with his knee. -"So that's why you wouldn't answer? . . . It struck me somehow that you -were behaving queerly. . . . And then I never gave it another thought. -. . . It was the lamp, just now, that threw a light on your side-face. -. . . But who is the fellow I've got hold of? Some dog of a Frenchman, -may be?" - -Paul had stiffened his muscles and believed for a moment that he would -succeed in escaping from the other's grip. The enemy's strength was -yielding; Paul gradually seemed to master him; and he exclaimed: - -"Yes, a Frenchman, Paul Delroze, the one you used to try and kill, the -husband of Elisabeth, your victim. . . . Yes, it's I; and I know who you -are: you're Laschen, the sham Belgian; you're Karl the spy." - -He stopped. The spy, who had only weakened his effort to draw a dagger -from his belt, was now raising it against him: - -"Ah, Paul Delroze! . . . God's truth, this'll be a lucky trip! . . . -First the husband and then the wife. . . . Ah, so you came running into -my clutches! . . . Here, take this, my lad! . . ." - -Paul saw the gleam of a blade flashing above his face. He closed his -eyes, uttering Elisabeth's name. - -Another second; and three shots rang out in rapid succession. Some one -was firing from behind the group formed by the two adversaries. - -The spy swore a hideous oath. His grip became relaxed. The weapon in the -hand trembled and he fell flat on the ground, moaning: - -"Oh, the cursed woman! . . . That cursed woman! . . . I ought to have -strangled her in the car. . . . I knew this would happen. . . ." - -His voice failed him. He stammered: - -"I've got it this time. . . . Oh, that cursed woman! . . . And the pain -. . . !" - -Then he was silent. A few convulsions, a dying gasp and that was all. - -Paul had leapt to his feet. He ran to the woman who had saved his life -and who was still holding her revolver in her hand: - -"Elisabeth!" he cried, wild with delight. - -But he stopped, with his arms outstretched. In the dark, the woman's -figure did not seem to him to be Elisabeth's, but a taller and broader -figure. He blurted out, in a tone of infinite anguish: - -"Elisabeth . . . is it you? . . . Is it really you? . . ." - -And at the same time he intuitively knew the answer which he was about -to hear: - -"No," said the woman, "Mme. Delroze started a little before us, in -another motor. Karl and I were to join her." - -Paul remembered that car, of which he and Bernard had thought that he -heard the sound when going round the villa. As the two starts had taken -place with an interval of a few minutes at most between them, he cried: - -"Let us be quick then and lose no time. . . . By putting on speed, we -shall be sure to catch them. . . ." - -But the woman at once objected: - -"It's impossible, because the two cars have taken different roads." - -"What does that matter, if they lead to the same point. Where are they -taking Mme. Delroze?" - -"To a castle belonging to the Comtesse Hermine." - -"And where is that castle?" - -"I don't know." - -"You don't know? But this is terrible! At least, you know its name. - -"No, I don't. Karl never told me." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE IMPOSSIBLE STRUGGLE - - -In the terrible state of distress into which those last words threw him, -Paul felt the need of some immediate action, even as he had done at the -sight of the banquet given by Prince Conrad. Certainly, all hope was -lost. His plan, which was to use the tunnel before the alarm was raised, -his plan was shattered. Granting that he succeeded in finding Elisabeth -and delivering her, a very unlikely contingency, at what moment would -this take place? And how was he afterwards to escape the enemy and -return to France? - -No, henceforward space and time were both against him. His defeat was -such that there was nothing for it but to resign himself and await the -final blow. - -And yet he did not flinch. He saw that any weakness would be -irreparable. The impulse that had carried him so far must be continued -unchecked and with more vigor than ever. - -He walked up to the spy. The woman was stooping over the body and -examining it by the light of one of the lamps which she had taken down. - -"He's dead, isn't he?" asked Paul. - -"Yes, he's dead. Two bullets hit him in the back." And she murmured, in -a broken voice, "It's horrible, what I've done. I've killed him myself! -But it's not a murder, sir, is it? And I had the right to, hadn't I? -. . . But it's horrible all the same . . . I've killed Karl!" - -Her face, which was young and still rather pretty, though common, was -distorted. Her eyes seemed glued to the corpse. - -"Who are you?" asked Paul. - -She replied, sobbing: - -"I was his sweetheart . . . and better than that . . . or rather worse. -He had taken an oath that he would marry me. . . . But Karl's oath! He -was such a liar, sir, such a coward! . . . Oh, the things I know of him! -. . . I myself, simply through holding my tongue, gradually became his -accomplice. He used to frighten me so! I no longer loved him, but I was -afraid of him and obeyed him . . . with such loathing, at the end! . . . -And he knew how I loathed him. He used often to say, 'You are quite -capable of killing me some day or other.' No, sir, I did think of it, -but I should never have had the courage. It was only just now, when I -saw that he was going to stab you . . . and above all when I heard your -name. . . ." - -"My name? What has that to do with it?" - -"You are Madame Delroze's husband." - -"Well?" - -"Well, I know her. Not for long, only since to-day. This morning, Karl, -on his way from Belgium, passed through the town where I was and took me -to Prince Conrad's. He told me I was to be lady's maid to a French lady -whom we were going to take to a castle. I knew what that meant. I should -once more have to be his accomplice, to inspire confidence. And then I -saw that French lady, I saw her crying; and she was so gentle and kind -that I felt sorry for her. I promised to rescue her . . . Only, I never -thought that it would be in this way, by killing Karl. . . ." - -She drew herself up suddenly and said, in a hard voice: - -"But it had to be, sir. It was bound to happen, for I knew too much -about him. It had to be he or I. . . . It was he . . . and I can't help -it and I'm not sorry. . . . He was the wickedest wretch on earth; and, -with people like him, one mustn't hesitate. No, I am not sorry." - -Paul asked: - -"He was devoted to the Comtesse Hermine, was he not?" - -She shuddered and lowered her voice to reply: - -"Oh, don't speak of her, please! She is more terrible still; and she is -still alive. Ah, if she should ever suspect!" - -"Who is the woman?" - -"How can I tell? She comes and goes, she is the mistress wherever she -may be. . . . People obey her as they do the Emperor. Everybody fears -her . . . as they do her brother." - -"Her brother?" - -"Yes, Major Hermann." - -"What's that? Do you mean to say that Major Hermann is her brother?" - -"Why, of course! Besides, you have only to look at him. He is the very -image of the Comtesse Hermine!" - -"Have you ever seen them together?" - -"Upon my word, I can't remember. Why do you ask?" - -Time was too precious for Paul to insist. The woman's opinion of the -Comtesse Hermine did not matter much. He asked: - -"She is staying at the prince's?" - -"For the present, yes. The prince is on the first floor, at the back; -she is on the same floor, but in front." - -"If I let her know that Karl has had an accident and that he has sent -me, his chauffeur, to tell her, will she see me?" - -"Certainly." - -"Does she know Karl's chauffeur, whose place I took?" - -"No. He was a soldier whom Karl brought with him from Belgium." - -Paul thought for a moment and then said: - -"Lend me a hand." - -They pushed the body towards the ditch by the road-side, rolled it in -and covered it with dead branches. - -"I shall go back to the villa," he said. "You walk on until you come to -the first cluster of houses. Wake the people and tell them the story of -how Karl was murdered by his chauffeur and how you ran away. The time -which it will take to inform the police, to question you and to -telephone to the villa is more than I need." - -She took alarm: - -"But the Comtesse Hermine?" - -"Have no fear there. Granting that I do not deprive her of her power of -doing mischief, how could she suspect you, when the -police-investigations will hold me alone to account for everything? -Besides, we have no choice." - -And, without more words, he started the engine, took his seat at the -wheel and, in spite of the woman's frightened entreaties, drove off. - -He drove off with the same eagerness and decision as though he were -fulfilling the conditions of some new plan of which he had fixed every -detail beforehand and as though he felt sure of its success. - -"I shall see the countess," he said to himself. "She will either be -anxious as to Karl's fate and want me to take her to him at once or she -will see me in one of the rooms in the villa. In either case I shall -find a method of compelling her to reveal the name of the castle in -which Elisabeth is a prisoner. I shall even compel her to give me the -means of delivering her and helping her to escape." - -But how vague it all was! The obstacles in the way! The impossibilities! -How could he expect circumstances to be so complaisant as first to blind -the countess' eyes to the facts and next to deprive her of all -assistance? A woman of her stamp was not likely to let herself be taken -in by words or subdued by threats. - -No matter, Paul would not entertain the thought of failure. Success lay -at the end of his undertaking; and in order to achieve it more quickly -he increased the pace, rushing his car like a whirlwind along the roads -and hardly slackening speed as he passed through villages and towns. - -"Hohenstaufen!" he cried to the sentry posted outside the wall. - -The officer of the picket, after questioning him, sent him on to the -sergeant in command of the post at the front-door. The sergeant was the -only one who had free access to the villa; and he would inform the -countess. - -"Very well," said Paul. "I'll put up my car first." - -In the garage, he turned off his lights; and, as he went towards the -villa, he thought that it might be well, before going back to the -sergeant, to look up Bernard and learn if his brother-in-law had -succeeded in discovering anything. - -He found him behind the villa, in the clumps of shrubs facing the window -with the balcony. - -"You're by yourself?" said Bernard, anxiously. - -"Yes, the job failed. Elisabeth was in an earlier motor." - -"What an awful thing!" - -"Yes, but it can be put right. And you . . . what about the chauffeur?" - -"He's safely hidden away. No one will see him . . . at least not before -the morning, when other chauffeurs come to the garage." - -"Very well. Anything else?" - -"There was a patrol in the grounds an hour ago. I managed to keep out of -sight." - -"And then?" - -"Then I made my way as far as the tunnel. The men were beginning to -stir. Besides, there was something that made them jolly well pull -themselves together!" - -"What was that?" - -"The sudden arrival of a certain person of our acquaintance, the woman I -met at Corvigny, who is so remarkably like Major Hermann." - -"Was she going the rounds?" - -"No, she was leaving." - -"Yes, I know, she means to leave." - -"She has left." - -"Oh, nonsense! I can't believe that. There was no immediate hurry about -her departure for France." - -"I saw her go, though." - -"How? By what road?" - -"The tunnel, of course! Do you imagine that the tunnel serves no further -purpose? That was the road she took, before my eyes, under the most -comfortable conditions, in an electric trolley driven by a brakesman. No -doubt, since the object of her journey was, as you say, to get to -France, they shunted her on to the Corvigny branch. That was two hours -ago. I heard the trolley come back." - -The disappearance of the Comtesse Hermine was a fresh blow to Paul. How -was he now to find, how to deliver Elisabeth? What clue could he trust -in this darkness, in which each of his efforts was ending in disaster? - -He pulled himself together, made an act of will and resolved to -persevere in the adventure until he attained his object. He asked -Bernard if he had seen nothing more. - -"No, nothing." - -"Nobody going or coming in the garden?" - -"No. The servants have gone to bed. The lights are out." - -"All the lights?" - -"All except one, there, over our heads." - -The light was on the first floor, at a window situated above the window -through which Paul had watched Prince Conrad's supper-party. He asked: - -"Was that light put on while I was up on the balcony?" - -"Yes, towards the end." - -"From what I was told," Paul muttered, "that must be Prince Conrad's -room. He's drunk and had to be carried upstairs." - -"Yes, I saw some shadows at that time; and nothing has moved since." - -"He's evidently sleeping off his champagne. Oh, if one could only see, -if one could get into the room!" - -"That's easily done," said Bernard. - -"How?" - -"Through the next room, which must be the dressing-room. They've left -the window open, no doubt to give the prince a little air." - -"But I should want a ladder . . ." - -"There's one hanging on the wall of the coach-house. Shall I get it for -you?" - -"Yes, do," said Paul eagerly. "Be quick." - -A whole new scheme was taking shape in his mind, similar in some -respects to his first plan of campaign and likely, he thought, to lead -to a successful issue. - -He made certain that the approaches to the villa on either side were -deserted and that none of the soldiers on guard had moved away from the -front-door. Then, when Bernard was back, he placed the ladder in -position and leant it against the wall. They went up. - -The open window belonged, as they expected, to the dressing-room and the -light from the bedroom showed through the open door. Not a sound came -from that other room except a loud snoring. Paul put his head through -the doorway. - -Prince Conrad was lying fast asleep across his bed, like a loose-jointed -doll, clad in his uniform, the front of which was covered with stains. -He was sleeping so soundly that Paul was able to examine the room at his -ease. There was a sort of little lobby between it and the passage, with -a door at either end. He locked and bolted both doors, so that they were -now alone with Prince Conrad, while it was impossible for them to be -heard from the outside. - -"Come on," said Paul, when they had apportioned the work to be done. - -And he placed a twisted towel over the prince's face and tried to insert -the ends into his mouth while Bernard bound his wrists and ankles with -some more towels. All this was done in silence. The prince offered no -resistance and uttered not a cry. He had opened his eyes and lay staring -at his aggressors with the air of a man who does not understand what is -happening to him, but is seized with increasing dread as he becomes -aware of his danger. - -"Not much pluck about William's son and heir," chuckled Bernard. "Lord, -what a funk he's in! Hi, young-fellow-my-lad, pull yourself together! -Where's your smelling-bottle?" - -Paul had at last succeeded in cramming half the towel into his mouth. He -lifted him up and said: - -"Now let's be off." - -"What do you propose to do?" - -"Take him away." - -"Where to?" - -"To France." - -"To France?" - -"Well, of course. We've got him; he'll have to help us." - -"They won't let him through." - -"And the tunnel?" - -"Out of the question. They're keeping too close a watch now." - -"We shall see." - -He took his revolver and pointed it at Prince Conrad: - -"Listen to me," he said. "Your head is too muddled, I dare say, to take -in any questions. But a revolver is easy to understand, isn't it? It -talks a very plain language, even to a man who is drunk and shaking all -over with fright. Well, if you don't come with me quietly, if you -attempt to struggle or to make a noise, if my friend and I are in danger -for a single moment, you're done for. You can feel the barrel of my -revolver on your temple: Well, it's there to blow out your brains. Do -you agree to my conditions?" - -The prince nodded his head. - -"Good," said Paul. "Bernard, undo his legs, but fasten his arms along -his body. . . . That's it. . . . And now let's be off." - -The descent of the ladder was easily accomplished and they walked -through the shrubberies to the fence which separated the garden from the -yard containing the barracks. Here they handed the prince across to -each other, like a parcel, and then, taking the same road as when they -came, they reached the quarries. - -The night was bright enough to allow them to see their way; and, -moreover, they had in front of them a diffused glow which seemed to rise -from the guard-house at the entrance to the tunnel. And indeed all the -lights there were burning; and the men were standing outside the shed, -drinking coffee. - -A soldier was pacing up and down in front of the tunnel, with his rifle -on his shoulder. - -"We are two," whispered Bernard. "There are six of them; and, at the -first shot fired, they will be joined by some hundreds of Boches who are -quartered five minutes away. It's a bit of an unequal struggle, what do -you say?" - -What increased the difficulty to the point of making it insuperable was -that they were not really two but three and that their prisoner hampered -them most terribly. With him it was impossible to hurry, impossible to -run away. They would have to think of some stratagem to help them. - -Slowly, cautiously, stealing along in such a way that not a stone rolled -from under their footsteps or the prince's, they described a circle -around the lighted space which brought them, after an hour, close to the -tunnel, under the rocky slopes against which its first buttresses were -built. - -"Stay there," said Paul to Bernard, speaking very low, but just loud -enough for the prince to hear. "Stay where you are and remember my -instructions. First of all, take charge of the prince, with your -revolver in your right hand and with your left hand on his collar. If he -struggles, break his head. That will be a bad business for us, but just -as bad for him. I shall go back to a certain distance from the shed and -draw off the five men on guard. Then the man doing sentry down there -will either join the rest, in which case you go on with the prince, or -else he will obey orders and remain at his post, in which case you fire -at him and wound him . . . and go on with the prince." - -"Yes, I shall go on, but the Boches will come after me and catch us up." - -"No, they won't." - -"If you say so. . . ." - -"Very well, that's understood. And you, sir," said Paul to the prince, -"do you understand? Absolute submission; if not, the least carelessness, -a mere mistake may cost you your life." - -Bernard whispered in his brother-in-law's ear: - -"I've picked up a rope; I shall fasten it round his neck; and, if he -jibs, he'll feel a sharp tug to recall him to the true state of things. -Only, Paul, I warn you that, if he takes it into his head to struggle, I -am incapable of killing him just like that, in cold blood." - -"Don't worry. He's too much afraid to struggle. He'll go with you like -a lamb to the other end of the tunnel. When you get there, lock him up -in some corner of the chateau, but don't tell any one who he is." - -"And you, Paul?" - -"Never mind about me." - -"Still . . ." - -"We both stand the same risk. We're going to play a terribly dangerous -game and there's every chance of our losing it. But, if we win, it means -Elisabeth's safety. So we must go for it boldly. Good-bye, Bernard, for -the present. In ten minutes everything will be settled one way or the -other." - -They embraced and Paul walked away. - -As he had said, this one last effort could succeed only through -promptness and audacity; and it had to be made in the spirit in which a -man makes a desperate move. Ten minutes more would see the end of the -adventure. Ten minutes and he would be either victorious or a dead man. - -Every action which he performed from that moment was as orderly and -methodical as if he had had time to think it out carefully and to ensure -its inevitable success, whereas in reality he was forming a series of -separate decisions as he went along and as the tragic circumstances -seemed to call for them. - -Taking a roundabout way and keeping to the slopes of the mounds formed -by the sand thrown up in the works, he reached the hollow -communication-road between the quarries and the garrison-camp. On the -last of these rounds, his foot struck a block of stone which gave way -beneath him. On stooping and groping with his hands, he perceived that -this block held quite a heap of sand and pebbles in position behind it. - -"That's what I want," he said, without a moment's reflection. - -And, giving the stone a mighty kick, he sent the heap shooting into the -road with a roar like an avalanche. - -Paul jumped down among the stones, lay flat on his chest and began to -scream for help, as though he had met with an accident. - -From where he lay, it was impossible, owing to the winding of the road, -to hear him in the barracks; but the least cry was bound to carry as far -as the shed at the mouth of the tunnel, which was only a hundred yards -away at most. The soldiers on guard came running along at once. - -He counted only five of them. In an almost unintelligible voice, he gave -incoherent, gasping replies to the corporal's questions and conveyed the -impression that he had been sent by Prince Conrad to bring back the -Comtesse Hermine. - -Paul was quite aware that his stratagem had no chance of succeeding -beyond a very brief space of time; but every minute gained was of -inestimable value, because Bernard would make use of it on his side to -take action against the sixth man, the sentry outside the tunnel, and to -make his escape with Prince Conrad. Perhaps that man would come as -well. Or else perhaps Bernard would get rid of him without using his -revolver and therefore without attracting attention. - -And Paul, gradually raising his voice, was spluttering out vague -explanations, which only irritated without enlightening the corporal, -when a shot rang out, followed by two others. - -For the moment the corporal hesitated, not knowing for certain where the -sound came from. The men stood away from Paul and listened. Thereupon he -passed through them and walked straight on, without their realizing, in -the darkness, that it was he who was moving away. Then, at the first -turn, he started running and reached the shed in a few strides. - -Twenty yards in front of him, at the mouth of the tunnel, he saw Bernard -struggling with Prince Conrad, who was trying to escape. Near them, the -sentry was dragging himself along the ground and moaning. - -Paul saw clearly what he had to do. To lend Bernard a hand and with him -attempt to run the risk of flight would have been madness, because their -enemies would inevitably have caught them up and in any case Prince -Conrad would have been set free. No, the essential thing was to stop the -rush of the five other men, whose shadows were already appearing at the -bend in the road, and thus to enable Bernard to get away with the -prince. - -Half-hidden behind the shed, he aimed his revolver at them and cried: - -"Halt!" - -The corporal did not obey and ran on into the belt of light. Paul fired. -The German fell, but only wounded, for he began to command in a savage -tone: - -"Forward! Go for him! Forward, can't you, you funks!" - -The men did not stir a step. Paul seized a rifle from the stack which -they had made of theirs near the shed and, while taking aim at them, was -able to give a glance backwards and to see that Bernard had at last -mastered Prince Conrad and was leading him well into the tunnel. - -"It's only a question of holding out for five minutes," thought Paul, -"so that Bernard may go as far as possible." - -And he was so calm at this moment that he could have counted those -minutes by the steady beating of his pulse. - -"Forward! Rush at him! Forward!" the corporal kept clamoring, having -doubtless seen the figures of the two fugitives, though without -recognizing Prince Conrad. - -Rising to his knees, he fired a revolver-shot at Paul, who replied by -breaking his arm with a bullet. And yet the corporal went on shouting at -the top of his voice: - -"Forward! There are two of them making off through the tunnel! Forward! -Here comes help!" - -It was half-a-dozen soldiers from the barracks, who had run up at the -sound of the shooting. Paul had now made his way into the shed. He broke -a window-pane and fired three shots. The soldiers made for shelter; but -others arrived, took their orders from the corporal and dispersed; and -Paul saw them scrambling up the adjoining slopes in order to head him -off. He fired his rifle a few more times; but what was the good? All -hope of resistance had long since disappeared. - -He persevered, however, killing his adversaries at intervals, firing -incessantly and thus gaining all the time possible. But he saw that the -enemy was maneuvering with the object of first circumventing him and -then making for the tunnel and chasing the fugitives. - -Paul set his teeth. He was really aware of each second that passed, of -each of those inappreciable seconds which increased Bernard's distance. - -Three men disappeared down the yawning mouth of the tunnel; then a -fourth; then a fifth. Moreover, the bullets were now beginning to rain -upon the shed. - -Paul made a calculation: - -"Bernard must be six or seven hundred yards away. The three men pursuing -him have gone fifty yards . . . seventy-five yards now. That's all -right." - -A serried mass of Germans were coming towards the shed. It was evidently -not believed that Paul was alone, so quickly did he fire. This time -there was nothing for it but to surrender. - -"It's time," he thought. "Bernard is outside the danger-zone." - -He suddenly rushed at the board containing the handles which -corresponded with the mine-chambers in the tunnel, smashed the glass -with the butt-end of his rifle and pulled down the first handle and the -second. - -The earth seemed to shake. A thunderous roar rolled under the tunnel and -spread far and long, like a reverberating echo. - -The way was blocked between Bernard d'Andeville and the eager pack that -was trying to catch him. Bernard could take Prince Conrad quietly to -France. - -Then Paul walked out of the shed, raising his arms in the air and -crying, in a cheerful voice: - -"_Kamerad! Kamerad!_" - -Ten men surrounded him in a moment; and the officer who commanded them -shouted, in a frenzy of rage: - -"Let him be shot! . . . At once . . . at once! . . . Let him be shot! -. . ." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE LAW OF THE CONQUEROR - - -Brutally handled though he was, Paul offered no resistance; and, while -they were pushing him with needless violence towards a perpendicular -part of the cliff, he continued his inner calculations: - -"It is mathematically certain that the two explosions took place at -distances of three hundred and four hundred yards, respectively. I can -therefore also take it as certain that Bernard and Prince Conrad were on -the far side and that the men in pursuit were on this side. So all is -for the best." - -Docilely and with a sort of chaffing complacency he submitted to the -preparations for his execution. The twelve soldiers entrusted with it -were already drawn up in line under the bright rays of an electric -search-light and were only waiting for the order. The corporal whom he -had wounded early in the fight dragged himself up to him and snarled: - -"Shot! . . . You're going to be shot, you dirty _Franzose_!" - -He answered, with a laugh: - -"Not a bit of it! Things don't happen as quickly as all that." - -"Shot!" repeated the other. "_Herr Leutnant_ said so." - -"Well, what's he waiting for, your _Herr Leutnant_?" - -The lieutenant was making a rapid investigation at the entrance to the -tunnel. The men who had gone down it came running back, half-asphyxiated -by the fumes of the explosion. As for the sentry, whom Bernard had been -forced to get rid of, he was losing blood so profusely that it was no -use trying to obtain any fresh information from him. - -At that moment, news arrived from the barracks, where they had just -learnt, through a courier sent from the villa, that Prince Conrad had -disappeared. The officers were ordered to double the guard and to keep a -good lookout, especially at the approaches. - -Of course, Paul had counted on this diversion or some other of the same -kind which would delay his execution. The day was beginning to break and -he had little doubt that, Prince Conrad having been left dead drunk in -his bedroom, one of his servants had been told to keep a watch on him. -Finding the doors locked, the man must have given the alarm. This would -lead to an immediate search. - -But what surprised Paul was that no one suspected that the prince had -been carried off through the tunnel. The sentry was lying unconscious -and was unable to speak. The men had not realized that, of the two -fugitives seen at a distance, one was dragging the other along. In -short, it was thought that the prince had been assassinated. His -murderers must have flung his body into some corner of the quarries and -then taken to flight. Two of them had succeeded in escaping. The third -was a prisoner. And nobody for a second entertained the least suspicion -of an enterprise whose audacity simply surpassed imagination. - -In any case there could no longer be any question of shooting Paul -without a preliminary inquiry, the results of which must first be -communicated to the highest authorities. He was taken to the villa, -where he was divested of his German overcoat, carefully searched and -lastly was locked up in a bedroom under the protection of four stalwart -soldiers. - -He spent several hours in dozing, glad of this rest, which he needed so -badly, and feeling very easy in his mind, because, now that Karl was -dead, the Comtesse Hermine absent and Elisabeth in a place of safety, -there was nothing for him to do but to await the normal course of -events. - -At ten o'clock he was visited by a general who endeavored to question -him and who, receiving no satisfactory replies, grew angry, but with a -certain reserve in which Paul observed the sort of respect which people -feel for noted criminals. And he said to himself: - -"Everything is going as it should. This visit is only a preliminary to -prepare me for the coming of a more serious ambassador, a sort of -plenipotentiary." - -He gathered from the general's words that they were still looking for -the prince's body. They were now in fact looking for it beyond the -immediate precincts, for a new clue, provided by the discovery and the -revelations of the chauffeur whom Paul and Bernard had imprisoned in the -garage, as well as by the departure and return of the motor car, as -reported by the sentries, widened the field of investigation -considerably. - -At twelve o'clock Paul was provided with a substantial meal. The -attentions shown to him increased. Beer was served with the lunch and -afterwards coffee. - -"I shall perhaps be shot," he thought, "but with due formality and not -before they know exactly who the mysterious person is whom they have the -honor of shooting, not to mention the motives of his enterprise and the -results obtained. Now I alone am able to supply the details. -Consequently . . ." - -He so clearly felt the strength of his position and the necessity in -which his enemies stood to contribute to the success of his plan that he -was not surprised at being taken, an hour later, to a small drawing-room -in the villa, before two persons all over gold lace, who first had him -searched once more and then saw that he was fastened up with more -elaborate care than ever. - -"It must," he thought, "be at least the imperial chancellor coming all -the way from Berlin to see me . . . unless indeed . . ." - -Deep down within himself, in view of the circumstances, he could not -help foreseeing an even more powerful intervention than the -chancellor's; and, when he heard a motor car stop under the windows of -the villa and saw the fluster of the two gold-laced individuals, he was -convinced that his anticipations were being fully confirmed. - -Everything was ready. Even before any one appeared, the two individuals -drew themselves up and stood to attention; and the soldiers, stiffer -still, looked like dolls out of a Noah's ark. - -The door opened. And a whirlwind entrance took place, amid a jingling of -spurs and saber. The man who arrived in this fashion at once gave an -impression of feverish haste and of imminent departure. What he intended -to do he must accomplish within the space of a few minutes. - -At a sign from him, all those present quitted the room. - -The Emperor and the French officer were left face to face. And the -Emperor immediately asked, in an angry voice: - -"Who are you? What did you come to do? Who are your accomplices? By -whose orders were you acting?" - -It was difficult to recognize in him the figure represented by his -photographs and the illustrations in the newspapers, for the face had -aged into a worn and wasted mask, furrowed with wrinkles and disfigured -with yellow blotches. - -Paul was quivering with hatred, not so much a personal hatred aroused by -the recollection of his own sufferings as a hatred made up of horror and -contempt for the greatest criminal imaginable. And, despite his absolute -resolve not to depart from the usual formulas and the rules of outward -respect, he answered: - -"Let them untie me!" - -The Emperor started. It was the first time certainly that any one had -spoken to him like that; and he exclaimed: - -"Why, you're forgetting that a word will be enough to have you shot! And -you dare! Conditions! . . ." - -Paul remained silent. The Emperor strode up and down, with his hand on -the hilt of his sword, which he dragged along the carpet. Twice he -stopped and looked at Paul; and, when Paul did not move an eyelid, he -resumed his march, with an increasing display of indignation. And, all -of a sudden, he pressed the button of an electric bell: - -"Untie him!" he said to the men who hurried into the room. - -When released from his bonds, Paul rose up and stood like a soldier in -the presence of his superior officer. - -The room was emptied once again. Then the Emperor went up to Paul and, -leaving a table as a barrier between them, asked, still in a harsh -voice: - -"Prince Conrad?" - -Paul answered: - -"Prince Conrad is not dead, sir; he is well." - -"Ah!" said the Kaiser, evidently relieved. And, still reluctant to come -to the point, he continued: "That does not affect matters in so far as -you are concerned. Assault . . . espionage . . . not to speak of the -murder of one of my best servants. . . ." - -"Karl the spy, sir? I killed him in self-defense." - -"But you did kill him? Then for that murder and for the rest you shall -be shot." - -"No, sir. Prince Conrad's life is security for mine." - -The Emperor shrugged his shoulders: - -"If Prince Conrad is alive he will be found." - -"No, sir, he will not be found." - -"There is not a place in Germany where my searching will fail to find -him," he declared, striking the table with his fist. - -"Prince Conrad is not in Germany, sir." - -"Eh? What's that? Then where is he?" - -"In France." - -"In France!" - -"Yes, sir, in France, at the Chateau d'Ornequin, in the custody of my -friends. If I am not back with them by six o'clock to-morrow evening, -Prince Conrad will be handed over to the military authorities." - -The Emperor seemed to be choking, so much so that his anger suddenly -collapsed and that he did not even seek to conceal the violence of the -blow. All the humiliation, all the ridicule that would fall upon him and -upon his dynasty and upon the empire if his son were a prisoner, the -loud laughter that would ring through the whole world at the news, the -assurance which the possession of such a hostage would give to the -enemy; all this showed in his anxious look and in the stoop of his -shoulders. - -Paul felt the thrill of victory. He held that man as firmly as you hold -under your knee the beaten foe who cries out for mercy; and the balance -of the forces in conflict was so definitely broken in his favor that the -Kaiser's very eyes, raised to Paul's, gave him a sense of his triumph. - -The Emperor was able to picture the various phases of the drama enacted -during the previous night: the arrival through the tunnel, the -kidnapping by the way of the tunnel, the exploding of the mines to -ensure the flight of the assailants; and the mad daring of the adventure -staggered him. He murmured: - -"Who are you?" - -Paul relaxed slightly from his rigid attitude. He placed a quivering -hand upon the table between them and said, in a grave tone: - -"Sixteen years ago, sir, in the late afternoon of a September day, you -inspected the works of the tunnel which you were building from Ebrecourt -to Corvigny under the guidance of a person--how shall I describe -her--of a person highly placed in your secret service. At the moment -when you were leaving a little chapel which stands in the Ornequin -woods, you met two Frenchmen, a father and son--you remember, sir? It -was raining--and the meeting was so disagreeable to you that you allowed -a gesture of annoyance to escape you. Ten minutes later, the lady who -accompanied you returned and tried to take one of the Frenchmen, the -father, back with her to German territory, alleging as a pretext that -you wished to speak to him. The Frenchman refused. The woman murdered -him before his son's eyes. His name was Delroze. He was my father." - -The Kaiser had listened with increasing astonishment. It seemed to Paul -that his color had become more jaundiced than ever. Nevertheless he kept -his countenance under Paul's gaze. To him the death of that M. Delroze -was one of those minor incidents over which an emperor does not waste -time. Did he so much as remember it? - -He therefore declined to enter into the details of a crime which he had -certainly not ordered, though his indulgence for the criminal had made -him a party to it, and he contented himself, after a pause, with -observing: - -"The Comtesse Hermine is responsible for her own actions." - -"And responsible only to herself," Paul retorted, "seeing that the -police of her country refused to let her be called to account for this -one." - -The Emperor shrugged his shoulders, with the air of a man who scorns to -discuss questions of German morality and higher politics. He looked at -his watch, rang the bell, gave notice that he would be ready to leave in -a few minutes and, turning to Paul, said: - -"So it was to avenge your father's death that you carried off Prince -Conrad?" - -"No, sir, that is a question between the Comtesse Hermine and me; but -with Prince Conrad I have another matter to settle. When Prince Conrad -was staying at the Chateau d'Ornequin, he pestered with his attentions a -lady living in the house. Finding himself rebuffed by her, he brought -her here, to his villa, as a prisoner. The lady bears my name; and I -came to fetch her." - -It was evident from the Emperor's attitude that he knew nothing of the -story and that his son's pranks were a great source of worry to him. - -"Are you sure?" he asked. "Is the lady here?" - -"She was here last night, sir. But the Comtesse Hermine resolved to do -away with her and gave her into the charge of Karl the spy, with -instructions to take her out of Prince Conrad's reach and poison her." - -"That's a lie!" cried the Emperor. "A damnable lie!" - -"There is the bottle which the Comtesse Hermine handed to Karl the -spy." - -"And then? And then?" said the Kaiser, in an angry voice. - -"Then, sir, as Karl the spy was dead and as I did not know the place to -which my wife had been taken, I came back here. Prince Conrad was -asleep. With the aid of one of my friends, I brought him down from his -room and sent him into France through the tunnel." - -"And I suppose, in return for his liberty, you want the liberty of your -wife?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"But I don't know where she is!" exclaimed the Emperor. - -"She is in a country house belonging to the Comtesse Hermine. Perhaps, -if you would just think, sir . . . a country house a few hours off by -motor car, say, a hundred or a hundred and twenty miles at most." - -The Emperor, without speaking, kept tapping the table angrily with the -pommel of his sword. Then he said: - -"Is that all you ask?" - -"No, sir." - -"What? You want something more?" - -"Yes, sir, the release of twenty French prisoners whose names appear on -a list given me by the French commander-in-chief." - -This time the Emperor sprang to his feet with a bound: - -"You're mad! Twenty prisoners! And officers, I expect? Commanders of -army corps? Generals?" - -"The list also contains the names of privates, sir." - -The Emperor refused to listen. His fury found expression in wild -gestures and incoherent words. His eyes shot terrible glances at Paul. -The idea of taking his orders from that little French subaltern, himself -a captive and yet in a position to lay down the law, must have been -fearfully unpleasant. Instead of punishing his insolent enemy, he had to -argue with him and to bow his head before his outrageous proposals. But -he had no choice. There was no means of escape. He had as his adversary -one whom not even torture would have caused to yield. - -And Paul continued: - -"Sir, my wife's liberty against Prince Conrad's liberty would really not -be a fair bargain. What do you care, sir, whether my wife is a prisoner -or free? No, it is only reasonable that Prince Conrad's release should -be the object of an exchange which justifies it. And twenty French -prisoners are none too many. . . . Besides, there is no need for this to -be done publicly. The prisoners can come back to France, one by one, if -you prefer, as though in exchange for German prisoners of the same rank -. . . so that . . ." - -The irony of these conciliatory words, intended to soften the bitterness -of defeat and to conceal the blow struck at the imperial pride under the -guise of a concession! Paul thoroughly relished those few minutes. He -received the impression that this man, upon whom a comparatively slight -injury to his self-respect inflicted so great a torment, must be -suffering more seriously still at seeing his gigantic scheme come to -nothing under the formidable onslaught of destiny. - -"I am nicely revenged," thought Paul to himself. "And this is only the -beginning!" - -The capitulation was at hand. The Emperor declared: - -"I shall see. . . . I will give orders. . . ." - -Paul protested: - -"It would be dangerous to wait, sir. Prince Conrad's capture might -become known in France . . ." - -"Well," said the Emperor, "bring Prince Conrad back and your wife shall -be restored to you the same day." - -But Paul was pitiless. He insisted on being treated with entire -confidence: - -"No, sir," he said, "I do not think that things can happen just like -that. My wife is in a most horrible position; and her very life is at -stake. I must ask to be taken to her at once. She and I will be in -France this evening. It is imperative that we should be in France this -evening." - -He repeated the words in a very firm tone and added: - -"As for the French prisoners, sir, they can be returned under such -conditions as you may be pleased to state. I will give you a list of -their names with the places at which they are interned." - -Paul took a pencil and a sheet of paper. When he had finished writing, -the Emperor snatched the list from him and his face immediately became -convulsed. At each name he seemed to shake with impotent rage. He -crumpled the paper into a ball, as though he had resolved to break off -the whole arrangement. But, all of a sudden, abandoning his resistance, -with a hurried movement, as though feverishly determined to have done -with an exasperating business, he rang the bell three times. - -An orderly officer entered with a brisk step and brought his heels -together before the Kaiser. - -The Emperor reflected a few seconds longer. Then he gave his commands: - -"Take Lieutenant Delroze in a motor car to Schloss Hildensheim and bring -him back with his wife to the Ebrecourt outposts. On this day week, meet -him at the same point on our lines. He will be accompanied by Prince -Conrad and you by the twenty French prisoners whose names are on this -list. You will effect the exchange in a discreet manner, which you will -fix upon with Lieutenant Delroze. That will do. Keep me informed by -personal reports." - -This was uttered in a jerky, authoritative tone, as though it were a -series of measures which the Emperor had adopted of his own initiative, -without undergoing pressure of any kind and by the mere exercise of his -imperial will. - -And, having thus settled the matter, he walked out, carrying his head -high, swaggering with his sword and jingling his spurs. - -"One more victory to his credit! What a play-actor!" thought Paul, who -could not help laughing, to the officer's great horror. - -He heard the Emperor's motor drive away. The interview had lasted hardly -ten minutes. - -A moment later he himself was outside, hastening along the road to -Hildensheim. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -HILL 132 - - -What a ride it was! And how gay Paul Delroze felt! He was at last -attaining his object; and this time it was not one of those hazardous -enterprises which so often end in cruel disappointment, but the logical -outcome and reward of his efforts. He was beyond the reach of the least -shade of anxiety. There are victories--and his recent victory over the -Emperor was one of them--which involve the disappearance of every -obstacle. Elisabeth was at Hildensheim Castle and he was on his way to -the castle and nothing would stop him. - -He seemed to recognize by the daylight features in the landscape which -had been hidden from him by the darkness of the night before: a hamlet -here, a village there, a river which he had skirted. He saw the string -of little road-side woods, and he saw the ditch by which he had fought -with Karl the spy. - -It took hardly more than another hour to reach the hill which was topped -by the feudal fortress of Hildensheim. It was surrounded by a wide moat, -spanned by a draw-bridge. A suspicious porter made his appearance, but -a few words from the officer caused the doors to be flung open. - -Two footmen hurried down from the castle and, in reply to Paul's -question, said that the French lady was walking near the pond. He asked -the way and said to the officer: - -"I shall go alone. We shall start very soon." - -It had been raining. A pale winter sun, stealing through the heavy -clouds, lit up the lawns and shrubberies. Paul went along a row of -hot-houses and climbed an artificial rockery whence trickled the thin -stream of a waterfall which formed a large pool set in a frame of dark -fir trees and alive with swans and wild duck. - -At the end of the pool was a terrace adorned with statues and stone -benches. And there he saw Elisabeth. - -Paul underwent an indescribable emotion. He had not spoken to his wife -since the outbreak of war. Since that day, Elisabeth had suffered the -most horrible trials and had suffered them for the simple reason that -she wished to appear in her husband's eyes as a blameless wife, the -daughter of a blameless mother. - -And now he was about to meet her again at a time when none of the -accusations which he had brought against the Comtesse Hermine could be -rebuffed and when Elisabeth herself had roused Paul to such a pitch of -indignation by her presence at Prince Conrad's supper-party! . . . - -But how long ago it all seemed! And how little it mattered! Prince -Conrad's blackguardism, the Comtesse Hermine's crimes, the ties of -relationship that might unite the two women, all the struggles which -Paul had passed through, all his anguish, all his rebelliousness, all -his loathing, were but so many insignificant details, now that he saw at -twenty paces from him his unhappy darling whom he loved so well. He no -longer thought of the tears which she had shed and saw nothing but her -wasted figure, shivering in the wintry wind. - -He walked towards her. His steps grated on the gravel path; and -Elisabeth turned round. - -She did not make a single gesture. He understood, from the expression of -her face, that she did not see him, really, that she looked upon him as -a phantom rising from the mists of dreams and that this phantom must -often float before her deluded eyes. - -She even smiled at him a little, such a sad smile that Paul clasped his -hands and was nearly falling on his knees: - -"Elisabeth. . . . Elisabeth," he stammered. - -Then she drew herself up and put her hand to her heart and turned even -paler than she had been the evening before, seated between Prince Conrad -and Comtesse Hermine. The image was emerging from the realm of mist; the -reality grew plainer before her eyes and in her brain. This time she saw -Paul! - -He ran towards her, for she seemed on the point of falling. But she -recovered herself, put out her hands to make him stay where he was and -looked at him with an effort as though she would have penetrated to the -very depths of his soul to read his thoughts. - -Paul, trembling with love from head to foot, did not stir. She murmured: - -"Ah, I see that you love me . . . that you have never ceased to love me! -. . . I am sure of it now . . ." - -She kept her arms outstretched, however, as though against an obstacle, -and he himself did not attempt to come closer. All their life and all -their happiness lay in their eyes; and, while her gaze wildly -encountered his, she went on: - -"They told me that you were a prisoner. Is it true, then? Oh, how I have -implored them to take me to you! How low I have stooped! I have even had -to sit down to table with them and laugh at their jokes and wear jewels -and pearl necklaces which he has forced upon me. All this in order to -see you! . . . And they kept on promising. And then, at length, they -brought me here last night and I thought that they had tricked me once -more . . . or else that it was a fresh trap . . . or that they had at -last made up their minds to kill me. . . . And now here you are, here -you are, Paul, my own darling! . . ." - -She took his face in her two hands and, suddenly, in a voice of despair: - -"But you are not going just yet? You will stay till to-morrow, surely? -They can't take you from me like that, after a few minutes? You're -staying, are you not? Oh, Paul, all my courage is gone . . . don't leave -me! . . ." - -She was greatly surprised to see him smile: - -"What's the matter? Why, my dearest, how happy you look!" - -He began to laugh and this time, drawing her to him with a masterful air -that admitted of no denial, he kissed her hair and her forehead and her -cheeks and her lips; and he said: - -"I am laughing because there is nothing to do but to laugh and kiss you. -I am laughing also because I have been imagining so many silly things. -Yes, just think, at that supper last night, I saw you from a distance -. . . and I suffered agonies: I accused you of I don't know what. . . . -Oh, what a fool I was!" - -She could not understand his gaiety; and she said again: - -"How happy you are! How can you be so happy?" - -"There is no reason why I should not be," said Paul, still laughing. - -"Come, look at things as they are: you and I are meeting after -unheard-of misfortunes. We are together; nothing can separate us; and -you wouldn't have me be glad?" - -"Do you mean to say that nothing can separate us?" she asked, in a voice -quivering with anxiety. - -"Why, of course! Is that so strange?" - -"You are staying with me? Are we to live here?" - -"No, not that! What an idea! You're going to pack up your things at -express speed and we shall be off." - -"Where to?" - -"Where to? To France, of course. When you think of it, that's the only -country where one's really comfortable." - -And, when she stared at him in amazement, he said: - -"Come, let's hurry. The car's waiting; and I promised Bernard--yes, your -brother Bernard--that we should be with him to-night. . . . Are you -ready? But why that astounded look? Do you want to have things explained -to you? But, my very dearest, it will take hours and hours to explain -everything that's happened to yourself and me. You've turned the head of -an imperial prince . . . and then you were shot . . . and then . . . and -then . . . Oh, what does it all matter? Must I force you to come away -with me?" - -All at once she understood that he was speaking seriously; and, without -taking her eyes from him, she asked: - -"Is it true? Are we free?" - -"Absolutely free." - -"We're going back to France?" - -"Immediately." - -"We have nothing more to fear?" - -"Nothing." - -The tension from which she was suffering suddenly relaxed. She in her -turn began to laugh, yielding to one of those fits of uncontrollable -mirth which find vent in every sort of childish nonsense. She could have -sung, she could have danced for sheer joy. And yet the tears flowed down -her cheeks. And she stammered: - -"Free! . . . it's all over! . . . Have I been through much? . . . Not at -all! . . . Oh, you know that I had been shot? Well, I assure you, it -wasn't so bad as all that. . . . I will tell you about it and lots of -other things. . . . And you must tell me, too. . . . But how did you -manage? You must be cleverer than the cleverest, cleverer than the -unspeakable Conrad, cleverer than the Emperor! Oh, dear, how funny it -is, how funny! . . ." - -She broke off and, seizing him forcibly by the arm, said: - -"Let us go, darling. It's madness to remain another second. These people -are capable of anything. They look upon no promise as binding. They are -scoundrels, criminals. Let's go. . . . Let's go. . . ." - -They went away. - -Their journey was uneventful. In the evening, they reached the lines on -the front, facing Ebrecourt. - -The officer on duty, who had full powers, had a reflector lit and -himself, after ordering a white flag to be displayed, took Elisabeth and -Paul to the French officer who came forward. - -The officer telephoned to the rear. A motor car was sent; and, at nine -o'clock, Paul and Elisabeth pulled up at the gates of Ornequin and Paul -asked to have Bernard sent for. He met him half-way: - -"Is that you, Bernard?" he said. "Listen to me and don't let us waste a -minute. I have brought back Elisabeth. Yes, she's here, in the car. We -are off to Corvigny and you're coming with us. While I go for my bag and -yours, you give instructions to have Prince Conrad closely watched. He's -safe, isn't he?" - -"Yes." - -"Then hurry. I want to get at the woman whom you saw last night as she -was entering the tunnel. Now that she's in France, we'll hunt her down." - -"Don't you think, Paul, that we should be more likely to find her tracks -by ourselves going back into the tunnel and searching the place where it -opens at Corvigny?" - -"We can't afford the time. We have arrived at a phase of the struggle -that demands the utmost haste." - -"But, Paul, the struggle is over, now that Elisabeth is saved." - -"The struggle will never be over as long as that woman lives." - -"Well, but who is she?" - -Paul did not answer. - -At ten o'clock they all three alighted outside the station at Corvigny. -There were no more trains. Everybody was asleep. Paul refused to be put -off, went to the military guard, woke up the adjutant, sent for the -station-master, sent for the booking-clerk and, after a minute inquiry, -succeeded in establishing the fact that on that same Monday morning a -woman supplied with a pass in the name of Mme. Antonin had taken a -ticket for Chateau-Thierry. She was the only woman traveling alone. She -was wearing a Red Cross uniform. Her description corresponded at all -points with that of the Comtesse Hermine. - -"It's certainly she," said Paul, when they had taken their rooms for the -night at the hotel near the station. "There's no doubt about it. It's -the only way she could go from Corvigny. And it's the way that we shall -go to-morrow morning, at the same time that she did. I hope that she -will not have time to carry out the scheme that has brought her to -France. In any case, this is a great opportunity; and we must make the -most of it." - -"But who is the woman?" Bernard asked again. - -"Who is she? Ask Elisabeth to tell you. We have an hour left in which to -discuss certain details and then we must go to bed. We need rest, all -three of us." - -They started on the Tuesday morning. Paul's confidence was unshaken. -Though he knew nothing of the Comtesse Hermine's intentions, he felt -sure that he was on the right road. And, in fact, they were told several -times that a Red Cross nurse, traveling first-class and alone, had -passed through the same stations on the day before. - -They got out at Chateau-Thierry late in the afternoon. Paul made his -inquiries. On the previous evening, the nurse had driven away in a Red -Cross motor car which was waiting at the station. This car, according to -the papers carried by the driver, belonged to one of the ambulances -working to the rear of Soissons; but the exact position of the ambulance -was not known. - -This was near enough for Paul, however. Soissons was in the battle line. - -"Let's go to Soissons," he said. - -The order signed by the commander-in-chief which he had on him gave him -full power to requisition a motor car and to enter the fighting zone. -They reached Soissons at dinner-time. - -The outskirts, ruined by the bombardment, were deserted. The town itself -seemed abandoned for the greater part. But as they came nearer to the -center a certain animation prevailed in the streets. Companies of -soldiers passed at a quick pace. Guns and ammunition wagons trotted by. -In the hotel to which they went on the Grande Place, a hotel containing -a number of officers, there was general excitement, with much coming and -going and even a little disorder. - -Paul and Bernard asked the reason. They were told that, for some days -past, we had been successfully attacking the slopes opposite Soissons, -on the other side of the Aisne. Two days before, some battalions of -light infantry and African troops had taken Hill 132 by assault. On the -following day, we held the positions which we had won and carried the -trenches on the Dent de Crouy. Then, in the course of the Monday night -at a time when the enemy was delivering a violent counter-attack, a -curious thing happened. The Aisne, which was swollen as the result of -the heavy rains, overflowed its banks and carried away all the bridges -at Villeneuve and Soissons. - -The rise of the Aisne was natural enough; but, high though the river -was, it did not explain the destruction of the bridges; and this -destruction, coinciding with the German counter-attack and apparently -due to suspect reasons which had not yet been cleared up, had -complicated the position of the French troops by making the dispatch of -reinforcements almost impossible. Our men had held the hill all day, but -with difficulty and with great losses. At this moment, a part of the -artillery was being moved back to the right bank of the Aisne. - -Paul and Bernard did not hesitate in their minds for a second. In all -this they recognized the Comtesse Hermine's handiwork. The destruction -of the bridges, the German attacks, those two incidents which happened -on the very night of her arrival were, beyond a doubt, the outcome of a -plan conceived by her, the execution of which had been prepared for the -time when the rains were bound to swell the river and proved the -collaboration existing between the countess and the enemy's staff. - -Besides, Paul remembered the sentences which she had exchanged with Karl -the spy outside the door of Prince Conrad's villa: - -"I am going to France . . . everything is ready. The weather is in our -favor; and the staff have told me. . . . So I shall be there to-morrow -evening; and it will only need a touch of the thumb. . . ." - -She had given that touch of the thumb. All the bridges had been tampered -with by Karl or by men in his pay and had now broken down. - -"It's she, obviously enough," said Bernard. "And, if it is, why look so -anxious? You ought to be glad, on the contrary, because we are now -positively certain of laying hold of her." - -"Yes, but shall we do so in time? When she spoke to Karl, she uttered -another threat which struck me as much more serious. As I told you, she -said, 'Luck is turning against us. If I succeed, it will be the end of -the run on the black.' And, when the spy asked her if she had the -Emperor's consent, she answered that it was unnecessary and that this -was one of the undertakings which one doesn't talk about. You -understand, Bernard, it's not a question of the German attack or the -destruction of the bridges: that is honest warfare and the Emperor knows -all about it. No, it's a question of something different, which is -intended to coincide with other events and give them their full -significance. The woman can't think that an advance of half a mile or a -mile is an incident capable of ending what she calls the run on the -black. Then what is at the back of it all? I don't know; and that -accounts for my anxiety." - -Paul spent the whole of that evening and the whole of the next day, -Wednesday the 13th, in making prolonged searches in the streets of the -town or along the banks of the Aisne. He had placed himself in -communication with the military authorities. Officers and men took part -in his investigations. They went over several houses and questioned a -number of the inhabitants. - -Bernard offered to go with him; but Paul persisted in refusing: - -"No. It is true, the woman doesn't know you; but she must not see your -sister. I am asking you therefore to stay with Elisabeth, to keep her -from going out and to watch over her without a moment's intermission, -for we have to do with the most terrible enemy imaginable." - -The brother and sister therefore passed the long hours of that day with -their faces glued to the window-panes. Paul came back at intervals to -snatch a meal. He was quivering with hope. - -"She's here," he said. "She must have left those who were with her in -the motor car, dropped her nurse's disguise and is now hiding in some -hole, like a spider behind its web. I can see her, telephone in hand, -giving her orders to a whole band of people, who have taken to earth -like herself and made themselves invisible like her. But I am beginning -to perceive her plan and I have one advantage over her, which is that -she believes herself in safety. She does not know that her accomplice, -Karl, is dead. She does not know of Elisabeth's release. She does not -know of our presence here. I've got her, the loathsome beast, I've got -her." - -The news of the battle, meanwhile, was not improving. The retreating -movement on the left bank continued. At Crouy, the severity of their -losses and the depth of the mud stopped the rush of the Moroccan troops. -A hurriedly-constructed pontoon bridge went drifting down-stream. - -When Paul made his next appearance, at six o'clock in the evening, there -were a few drops of blood on his sleeve. Elisabeth took alarm. - -"It's nothing," he said, with a laugh. "A scratch; I don't know how I -got it." - -"But your hand; look at your hand. You're bleeding!" - -"No, it's not my blood. Don't be frightened. Everything's all right." - -Bernard said: - -"You know the commander-in-chief came to Soissons this morning." - -"Yes, so it seems. All the better. I should like to make him a present -of the spy and her gang. It would be a handsome gift." - -He went away for another hour and then came back and had dinner. - -"You look as though you were sure of things now," said Bernard. - -"One can never be sure of anything. That woman is the very devil." - -"But you know where she's hiding?" - -"Yes." - -"And what are you waiting for?" - -"I'm waiting for nine o'clock. I shall take a rest till then. Wake me up -at a little before nine." - -The guns never ceased booming in the distant darkness. Sometimes a shell -would fall on the town with a great crash. Troops passed in every -direction. Then there would be brief intervals of silence, in which the -sounds of war seemed to hang in suspense; and it was those minutes which -perhaps were most formidable and significant. - -Paul woke of himself. He said to his wife and Bernard: - -"You know, you're coming, too. It will be rough work, Elisabeth, very -rough work. Are you certain that you're equal to it?" - -"Oh, Paul . . . But you yourself are looking so pale." - -"Yes," he said, "it's the excitement. Not because of what is going to -happen. But, in spite of all my precautions, I shall be afraid until the -last moment that the adversary will escape. A single act of -carelessness, a stroke of ill-luck that gives the alarm . . . and I -shall have to begin all over again. . . . Never mind about your -revolver, Bernard." - -"What!" cried Bernard. "Isn't there going to be any fighting in this -expedition of yours?" - -Paul did not reply. According to his custom, he expressed himself during -or after action. Bernard took his revolver. - -The last stroke of nine sounded as they crossed the Grande Place, amid a -darkness stabbed here and there by a thin ray of light issuing from a -closed shop. A group of soldiers were massed in the forecourt of the -cathedral, whose shadowy bulk they felt looming overhead. - -Paul flashed the light from an electric lamp upon them and asked the one -in command: - -"Any news, sergeant?" - -"No, sir. No one has entered the house and no one has gone out." - -The sergeant gave a low whistle. In the middle of the street, two men -emerged from the surrounding gloom and approached the group. - -"Any sound in the house?" - -"No, sergeant." - -"Any light behind the shutters?" - -"No, sergeant." - -Then Paul marched ahead and, while the others, in obedience to his -instructions, followed him without making the least noise, he stepped on -resolutely, like a belated wayfarer making for home. - -They stopped at a narrow-fronted house, the ground-floor of which was -hardly distinguishable in the darkness of the night. Three steps led to -the door. Paul gave four sharp taps and, at the same time, took a key -from his pocket and opened the door. - -He switched on his electric lamp again in the passage and, while his -companions continued as silent as before, turned to a mirror which rose -straight from the flagged floor. He gave four little taps on the mirror -and then pushed it, pressing one side of it. It masked the aperture of a -staircase which led to the basement; and Paul sent the light of his -lantern down the well. - -This appeared to be a signal, the third signal agreed upon, for a voice -from below, a woman's voice, but hoarse and rasping in its tones, asked: - -"Is that you, Daddy Walter?" - -The moment had come to act. Without answering, Paul rushed down the -stairs, taking four steps at a time. He reached the bottom just as a -massive door was closing, almost barring his access to the cellar. - -He gave a strong push and entered. - -The Comtesse Hermine was there, in the semi-darkness, motionless, -hesitating what to do. - -Then suddenly she ran to the other end of the cellar, seized a revolver -on the table, turned round and fired. - -The hammer clicked, but there was no report. - -She repeated the action three times; and the result, was three times the -same. - -"It's no use going on," said Paul, with a laugh. "The charge has been -removed." - -The countess uttered a cry of rage, opened the drawer of the table and, -taking another revolver, pulled the trigger four times, without -producing a sound. - -"You may as well drop it," laughed Paul. "This one has been emptied, -too; and so has the one in the other drawer: so have all the firearms in -the house, for that matter." - -Then, when she stared at him in amazement, without understanding, dazed -by her own helplessness, he bowed and introduced himself, just in two -words, which meant so much: - -"Paul Delroze." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -HOHENZOLLERN - - -The cellar, though smaller, looked like one of those large vaulted -basement halls which prevail in the Champagne district. Walls spotlessly -clean, a smooth floor with brick paths running across it, a warm -atmosphere, a curtained-off recess between two wine vats, chairs, -benches and rugs all went to form not only a comfortable abode, out of -the way of the shells, but also a safe refuge for any one who stood in -fear of indiscreet visits. - -Paul remembered the ruins of the old lighthouse on the bank of the Yser -and the tunnel from Ornequin to Ebrecourt. So the struggle was still -continuing underground: a war of trenches and cellars, a war of spying -and trickery, the same unvarying, stealthy, disgraceful, suspicious, -criminal methods. - -Paul had put out his lantern, and the room was now only dimly lit by an -oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, whose rays, thrown downward by an -opaque shade, cast a white circle in which the two of them stood by -themselves. Elisabeth and Bernard remained in the background, in the -shadow. - -The sergeant and his men had not appeared, but they could be heard at -the foot of the stairs. - -The countess did not move. She was dressed as on the evening of the -supper at Prince Conrad's villa. Her face showed no longer any fear or -alarm, but rather an effort of thought, as though she were trying to -calculate all the consequences of the position now revealed to her. Paul -Delroze? With what object was he attacking her? His intention--and this -was evidently the idea that gradually caused the Comtesse Hermine's -features to relax--his intention no doubt was to procure his wife's -liberty. - -She smiled. Elisabeth a prisoner in Germany: what a trump card for -herself, caught in a trap but still able to command events! - -At a sign from Paul, Bernard stepped forward and Paul said to the -countess: - -"My brother-in-law. Major Hermann, when he lay trussed up in the -ferryman's house, may have seen him, just as he may have seen me. But, -in any case, the Comtesse Hermine--or, to be more exact, the Comtesse -d'Andeville--does not know or at least has forgotten her son, Bernard -d'Andeville." - -She now seemed quite reassured, still wearing the air of one fighting -with equal or even more powerful weapons. She displayed no confusion at -the sight of Bernard, and said, in a careless tone: - -"Bernard d'Andeville is very like his sister Elisabeth, of whom -circumstances have allowed me to see a great deal lately. It is only -three days since she and I were having supper with Prince Conrad. The -prince is very fond of Elisabeth, and he is quite right, for she is -charming . . . and so amiable!" - -Paul and Bernard both made the same movement, which would have ended in -their flinging themselves upon the countess, if they had not succeeded -in restraining their hatred. Paul pushed aside his brother-in-law, of -whose intense anger he was conscious, and replied to his adversary's -challenge in an equally casual tone: - -"Yes, I know all about it; I was there. I was even present at her -departure. Your friend Karl offered me a seat in his car and we went off -to your place at Hildensheim: a very handsome castle, which I should -have liked to see more thoroughly. . . . But it is not a safe house to -stay at; in fact, it is often deadly; and so . . ." - -The countess looked at him with increasing disquiet. What did he mean to -convey? How did he know these things? She resolved to frighten him in -his turn, so as to gain some idea of the enemy's plans, and she said, in -a hard voice: - -"Yes, deadly is the word. The air there is not good for everybody." - -"A poisonous air." - -"Just so." - -"And are you nervous about Elisabeth?" - -"Frankly, yes. The poor thing's health is none of the best, as it is; -and I shall not be easy . . ." - -"Until she's dead, I suppose?" - -She waited a second or two and then retorted, speaking very clearly, so -that Paul might take in the meaning of her words: - -"Yes, until she is dead. . . . And that can't be far off . . . if it has -not happened already." - -There was a pause of some length. Once more, in the presence of that -woman, Paul felt the same craving to commit murder, the same craving to -gratify his hatred. She must be killed. It was his duty to kill her, it -was a crime not to obey that duty. - -Elisabeth was standing three paces back, in the dark. Slowly, without a -word, Paul turned in her direction, pressed the spring of his lantern -and flashed the light full on his wife's face. - -Not for a moment did he suspect the violent effect which his action -would have on the Comtesse Hermine. A woman like her was incapable of -making a mistake, of thinking herself the victim of an hallucination or -the dupe of a resemblance. No, she at once accepted the fact that Paul -had delivered his wife and that Elisabeth was standing in front of her. -But how was so disastrous an event possible? Elisabeth, whom three days -before she had left in Karl's hands; Elisabeth, who at this very moment -ought to be either dead or a prisoner in a German fortress, the access -to which was guarded by more than two million German soldiers: Elisabeth -was here! She had escaped Karl in less than three days! She had fled -from Hildensheim Castle and passed through the lines of those two -million Germans! - -The Comtesse Hermine sat down with distorted features at the table that -served her as a rampart and, in her fury, dug her clenched fists into -her cheeks. She realized the position. The time was past for jesting or -defiance. The time was past for bargaining. In the hideous game which -she was playing, the last chance of victory had suddenly slipped from -her grasp. She must yield before the conqueror; and that conqueror was -Paul Delroze. - -She stammered: - -"What do you propose to do? What is your object? To murder me?" - -He shrugged his shoulders: - -"We are not murderers. You are here to be tried. The penalty which you -will suffer will be the sentence passed upon you after a lawful trial, -in which you will be able to defend yourself." - -A shiver ran through her; and she protested: - -"You have no right to try me; you are not judges." - -At that moment there was a noise on the stairs. A voice cried: - -"Eyes front!" - -And, immediately after, the door, which had remained ajar, was flung -open, admitting three officers in their long cloaks. - -Paul hastened towards them and gave them chairs in that part of the room -which the light did not reach. A fourth arrived, who was also received -by Paul and took a seat to one side, a little farther away. - -Elisabeth and Paul were close together. - -Paul went back to his place in front and, standing beside the table, -said: - -"There are your judges. I am the prosecutor." - -And forthwith, without hesitation, as though he had settled beforehand -all the counts of the indictment which he was about to deliver, speaking -in a tone deliberately free from any trace of anger or hatred, he said: - -"You were born at Hildensheim Castle, of which your grandfather was the -steward. The castle was given to your father after the war of 1870. Your -name is really Hermine: Hermine von Hohenzollern. Your father used to -boast of that name of Hohenzollern, though he had no right to it; but -the extraordinary favor in which he stood with the old Emperor prevented -any one from contesting his claim. He served in the campaign of 1870 as -a colonel and distinguished himself by the most outrageous acts of -cruelty and rapacity. All the treasures that adorn Hildensheim Castle -come from France; and, to complete the brazenness of it, each object -bears a note giving the place from which it came and the name of the -owner from whom it was stolen. In addition, in the hall there is a -marble slab inscribed in letters of gold with the name of all the French -villages burnt by order of His Excellency Colonel Count Hohenzollern. -The Kaiser has often visited the castle. Each time he passes in front -of that marble slab he salutes." - -The countess listened without paying much heed. This story obviously -seemed to her of but indifferent importance. She waited until she -herself came into question. - -Paul continued: - -"You inherited from your father two sentiments which dominate your whole -existence. One of these is an immoderate love for the Hohenzollern -dynasty, with which your father appears to have been connected by the -hazard of an imperial or rather a royal whim. The other is a fierce and -savage hatred for France, which he regretted not to have injured as -deeply as he would have liked. Your love for the dynasty you -concentrated wholly, as soon as you had achieved womanhood, upon the man -who represents it now, so much so that, after entertaining the unlikely -hope of ascending the throne, you forgave him everything, even his -marriage, even his ingratitude, to devote yourself to him body and soul. -Married by him first to an Austrian prince, who died a mysterious death, -and then to a Russian prince, who died an equally mysterious death, you -worked solely for the greatness of your idol. At the time when war was -declared between England and the Transvaal, you were in the Transvaal. -At the time of the Russo-Japanese war, you were in Japan. You were -everywhere: at Vienna, when the Crown Prince Rudolph was assassinated; -at Belgrade when King Alexander and Queen Draga were assassinated. But -I will not linger over the part played by you in diplomatic events. It -is time that I came to your favorite occupation, the work which for the -last twenty years you have carried on against France." - -An expression of wickedness and almost of happiness distorted the -Comtesse Hermine's features. Yes, indeed, that was her favorite -occupation. She had devoted all her strength to it and all her perverse -intelligence. - -"And even so," added Paul, "I shall not linger over the gigantic work of -preparation and espionage which you directed. I have found one of your -accomplices, armed with a dagger bearing your initials, even in a -village of the Nord, in a church-steeple. All that happened was -conceived, organized and carried out by yourself. The proofs which I -collected, your correspondent's letters and your own letters, are -already in the possession of the court. But what I wish to lay special -stress upon is that part of your work which concerns the Chateau -d'Ornequin. It will not take long: a few facts, linked together by -murders, will be enough." - -There was a further silence. The countess prepared to listen with a sort -of anxious curiosity. Paul went on: - -"It was in 1894 that you suggested to the Emperor the piercing of a -tunnel from Ebrecourt to Corvigny. After the question had been studied -by the engineers, it was seen that this work, this '_kolossal_' work, -was not possible and could not be effective unless possession was first -obtained of the Chateau d'Ornequin. As it happened, the owner of the -property was in a very bad state of health. It was decided to wait. But, -as he seemed in no hurry to die, you came to Corvigny. A week later, he -died. Murder the first." - -"You lie! You lie!" cried the countess. "You have no proof. I defy you -to produce a proof." - -Paul, without replying, continued: - -"The chateau was put up for sale and, strange to say, without the least -advertisement, secretly, so to speak. Now what happened was that the man -of business whom you had instructed bungled the matter so badly that the -chateau was declared sold to the Comte d'Andeville, who took up his -residence there in the following year, with his wife and his two -children. This led to anger and confusion and lastly a resolve to start -work, nevertheless, and to begin boring at the site of a little chapel -which, at that time, stood outside the walls of the park. The Emperor -came often to Ebrecourt. One day, on leaving the chapel, he was met and -recognized by my father and myself. Two minutes later, you were -accosting my father. He was stabbed and killed. I myself received a -wound. Murder the second. A month later, the Comtesse d'Andeville was -seized with a mysterious illness and went down to the south to die." - -"You lie!" cried the countess, again. "Those are all lies! Not a single -proof! . . ." - -"A month later," continued Paul, still speaking very calmly, "M. -d'Andeville, who had lost his wife, took so great a dislike to Ornequin -that he decided never to go back to it. Your plan was carried out at -once. Now that the chateau was free, it became necessary for you to -obtain a footing there. How was it done? By buying over the keeper, -Jerome, and his wife. That wretched couple, who certainly had the excuse -that they were not Alsatians, as they pretended to be, but of Luxemburg -birth, accepted the bribe. Thenceforth you were at home, free to come to -Ornequin as and when you pleased. By your orders, Jerome even went to -the length of keeping the death of the Comtesse Hermine, the real -Comtesse Hermine, a secret. And, as you also were a Comtesse Hermine and -as no one knew Mme. d'Andeville, who had led a secluded life, everything -went off well. Moreover, you continued to multiply your precautions. -There was one, among others, that baffled me. A portrait of the Comtesse -d'Andeville hung in the boudoir which she used to occupy. You had a -portrait painted of yourself, of the same size, so as to fit the frame -inscribed with the name of the countess; and this portrait showed you -under the same outward aspect, wearing the same clothes and ornaments. -In short, you became what you had striven to appear from the outset and -indeed during the lifetime of Mme. d'Andeville, whose dress you were -even then beginning to copy: you became the Comtesse Hermine -d'Andeville, at least during the period of your visits to Ornequin. -There was only one danger, the possibility of M. d'Andeville's -unexpected return. To ward this off with certainty, there was but one -remedy, murder. You therefore managed to become acquainted with M. -d'Andeville, which enabled you to watch his movements and correspond -with him. Only, something happened on which you had not reckoned. I mean -to say that a feeling which was really surprising in a woman like -yourself began gradually to attach you to the man whom you had chosen as -a victim. I have placed among the exhibits a photograph of yourself -which you sent to M. d'Andeville from Berlin. At that time, you were -hoping to induce him to marry you; but he saw through your schemes, drew -back and broke off the friendship." - -The countess had knitted her brows. Her lips were distorted. The -lookers-on divined all the humiliation which she had undergone and all -the bitterness which she had retained in consequence. At the same time, -she felt no shame, but rather an increasing surprise at thus seeing her -life divulged down to the least detail and her murderous past dragged -from the obscurity in which she believed it buried. - -"When war was declared," Paul continued, "your work was ripe. Stationed -in the Ebrecourt villa, at the entrance to the tunnel, you were ready. -My marriage to Elisabeth d'Andeville, my sudden arrival at the chateau, -my amazement at seeing the portrait of the woman who had killed my -father: all this was told you by Jerome and took you a little by -surprise. You had hurriedly to lay a trap in which I, in my turn, was -nearly assassinated. But the mobilization rid you of my presence. You -were able to act. Three weeks later, Corvigny was bombarded, Ornequin -taken, Elisabeth a prisoner of Prince Conrad's. . . . That, for you, was -an indescribable period. It meant revenge; and also, thanks to you, it -meant the great victory, the accomplishment--or nearly so--of the great -dream, the apotheosis of the Hohenzollerns! Two days more and Paris -would be captured; two months more and Europe was conquered. The -intoxication of it! I know of words which you uttered at that time and I -have read lines written by you which bear witness to an absolute -madness: the madness of pride, the madness of boundless power, the -madness of cruelty; a barbarous madness, an impossible, superhuman -madness. . . . And then, suddenly, the rude awakening, the battle of the -Marne! Ah, I have seen your letters on this subject, too! And I know no -finer revenge. A woman of your intelligence was bound to see from the -first, as you did see, that it meant the breakdown of every hope and -certainty. You wrote that to the Emperor, yes, you wrote it! I have a -copy of your letter. . . . Meanwhile, defense became necessary. The -French troops were approaching. Through my brother-in-law, Bernard, you -learnt that I was at Corvigny. Would Elisabeth be delivered, Elisabeth -who knew all your secrets? No, she must die. You ordered her to be -executed. Everything was made ready. And, though she was saved, thanks -to Prince Conrad, and though, in default of her death, you had to -content yourself with a mock execution intended to cut short my -inquiries, at least she was carried off like a slave. And you had two -victims for your consolation: Jerome and Rosalie. Your accomplices, -smitten with tearful remorse by Elisabeth's tortures, tried to escape -with her. You dreaded their evidence against you: they were shot. -Murders the third and fourth. And the next day there were two more, two -soldiers whom you had killed, taking them for Bernard and myself. -Murders the fifth and sixth." - -Thus was the whole drama reconstructed in all its tragic phases and in -accordance with the order of the events and murders. And it was a -horrible thing to look upon this woman, guilty of so many crimes, walled -in by destiny, trapped in this cellar, face to face with her mortal -enemies. And yet how was it that she did not appear to have lost all -hope? For such was the case; and Bernard noticed it. - -"Look at her," he said, going up to Paul. "She has twice already -consulted her watch. Any one would think that she was expecting a -miracle or something more, a direct, inevitable aid which is to arrive -at a definite hour. See, her eyes are glancing about. . . . She is -listening for something. . . ." - -"Order all the soldiers at the foot of the stairs to come in," Paul -answered. "There is no reason why they should not hear what I have -still to say." - -And, turning towards the countess, he said, in tones which gradually -betrayed more feeling: - -"We are coming to the last act. All this part of the contest you -conducted under the aspect of Major Hermann, which made it easier for -you to follow the armies and play your part as chief spy. Hermann, -Hermine. . . . The Major Hermann whom, when necessary, you passed off as -your brother was yourself, Comtesse Hermine. And it was you whose -conversation I overheard with the sham Laschen, or rather Karl the spy, -in the ruins of the lighthouse on the bank of the Yser. And it was you -whom I caught and bound in the attic of the ferryman's house. Ah, what a -fine stroke you missed that day! Your three enemies lay wounded, within -reach of your hand, and you ran away without seeing them, without making -an end of them! And you knew nothing further about us, whereas we knew -all about your plans. An appointment for the 10th of January at -Ebrecourt, that ill-omened appointment which you made with Karl while -telling him of your implacable determination to do away with Elisabeth. -And I was there, punctually, on the 10th of January! I looked on at -Prince Conrad's supper-party! And I was there, after the supper, when -you handed Karl the poison. I was there, on the driver's seat of the -motor-car, when you gave Karl your last instructions. I was everywhere! -And that same evening Karl died. And the next night I kidnaped Prince -Conrad. And the day after, that is to say, two days ago, holding so -important a hostage and thus compelling the Emperor to treat with me, I -dictated conditions of which the first was the immediate release of -Elisabeth. The Emperor gave way. And here you see us!" - -In all this speech, a speech which showed the Comtesse Hermine with what -implacable energy she had been hunted down, there was one word which -overwhelmed her as though it related the most terrible of catastrophes. -She stammered: - -"Dead? You say that Karl is dead?" - -"Shot down by his mistress at the moment when he was trying to kill me," -cried Paul, once again mastered by his hatred. "Shot down like a mad -dog! Yes, Karl the spy is dead; and even after his death he remained the -traitor that he had been all his life. You were asking for my proofs: I -discovered them on Karl's person! It was in his pocket-book that I read -the story of your crimes and found copies of your letters and some of -the originals as well. He foresaw that sooner or later, when your work -was accomplished, you would sacrifice him to secure your own safety; and -he revenged himself in advance. He avenged himself just as Jerome the -keeper and his wife Rosalie revenged themselves, when about to be shot -by your orders, by revealing to Elisabeth the mysterious part which you -played at the Chateau d'Ornequin. So much for your accomplices! You kill -them, but they destroy you. It is no longer I who accuse you, it is -they. Your letters and their evidence are in the hands of your judges. -What answer have you to make?" - -Paul was standing almost against her. They were separated at the most by -a corner of the table; and he was threatening her with all his anger and -all his loathing. She retreated towards the wall, under a row of pegs -from which hung skirts and blouses, a whole wardrobe of various -disguises. Though surrounded, caught in a trap, confounded by an -accumulation of proofs, unmasked and helpless, she maintained an -attitude of challenge and defiance. The game did not yet seem lost. She -had some trump cards left in her hand; and she said: - -"I have no answer to make. You speak of a woman who has committed -murders; and I am not that woman. It is not a question of proving that -the Comtesse Hermine is a spy and a murderess: it is a question of -proving that I am the Comtesse Hermine. Who can prove that?" - -"_I_ can!" - -Sitting apart from the three officers whom Paul had mentioned as -constituting the court was a fourth, who had listened as silently and -impassively as they. He stepped forward. The light of the lamp shone on -his face. The countess murmured: - -"Stephane d'Andeville. . . . Stephane. . . ." - -It was the father of Elisabeth and Bernard. He was very pale, weakened -by the wounds which he had received and from which he was only beginning -to recover. - -He embraced his children. Bernard expressed his surprise and delight at -seeing him there. - -"Yes," he said, "I had a message from the commander-in-chief and I came -the moment Paul sent for me. Your husband is a fine fellow, Elisabeth. -He told me what had happened when we met a little while ago. And I now -see all that he has done . . . to crush that viper!" - -He had taken up his stand opposite the countess; and his hearers felt -beforehand the full importance of the words which he was about to speak. -For a moment, she lowered her head before him. But soon her eyes once -more flashed defiance; and she said: - -"So you, too, have come to accuse me? What have you to say against me? -Lies, I suppose? Infamies? . . ." - -There was a long pause after those words. Then, speaking slowly, he -said: - -"I come, in the first place, as a witness to give the evidence as to -your identity for which you were asking just now. You introduced -yourself to me long ago by a name which was not your own, a name under -which you succeeded in gaining my confidence. Later, when you tried to -bring about a closer relationship between us, you revealed to me who you -really were, hoping in this way to dazzle me with your titles and your -connections. It is therefore my right and my duty to declare before God -and man that you are really and truly the Countess Hermine von -Hohenzollern. The documents which you showed me were genuine. And it -was just because you were the Countess von Hohenzollern that I broke off -relations which in any case were painful and disagreeable to me, for -reasons which I should have been puzzled to state. That is my evidence." - -"It is infamous evidence!" she cried, in a fury. "Lying evidence, as I -said it would be! Not a proof!" - -"Not a proof?" echoed the Comte d'Andeville, moving closer to her and -shaking with rage. "What about this photograph, signed by yourself, -which you sent me from Berlin? This photograph in which you had the -impudence to dress up like my wife? Yes, you, you! You did this thing! -You thought that, by trying to make your picture resemble that of my -poor loved one, you would rouse in my breast feelings favorable to -yourself! And you did not feel that what you were doing was the worst -insult, the worst outrage that you could offer to the dead! And you -dared, you, you, after what had happened . . ." - -Like Paul Delroze a few minutes before, the count was standing close -against her, threatening her with his hatred. She muttered, in a sort of -embarrassment: - -"Well, why not?" - -He clenched his fists and said: - -"As you say, why not? I did not know at the time what you were . . . and -I knew nothing of the tragedy . . . of the tragedy of the past. . . . It -is only to-day that I have been able to compare the facts. And, whereas -I repulsed you at that time with a purely instinctive repulsion, I -accuse you now with unparalleled execration . . . now when I know, yes, -know, with absolute certainty. Long ago, when my poor wife was dying, -time after time the doctor said to me, 'It's a strange illness. She has -bronchitis and pneumonia, I know; and yet there are things which I don't -understand, symptoms--why conceal it?--symptoms of poisoning.' I used to -protest. The theory seemed impossible! My wife poisoned? And by whom? By -you, Comtesse Hermine, by you! I declare it to-day. By you! I swear it, -as I hope to be saved. Proofs? Why, your whole life bears witness -against you. Listen, there is one point on which Paul Delroze failed to -shed light. He did not understand why, when you murdered his father, you -wore clothes like those of my wife. Why did you? For this hateful reason -that, even at that time, my wife's death was resolved upon and that you -already wished to create in the minds of those who might see you a -confusion between the Comtesse d'Andeville and yourself. The proof is -undeniable. My wife stood in your way: you killed her. You guessed that, -once my wife was dead, I should never come back to Ornequin; and you -killed my wife. Paul Delroze, you have spoken of six murders. This is -the seventh: the murder of the Comtesse d'Andeville." - -The count had raised his two clenched fists and was shaking them in the -Comtesse Hermine's face. He was trembling with rage and seemed on the -point of striking her. She, however, remained impassive. She made no -attempt to deny this latest accusation. It was as though everything had -become indifferent to her, this unexpected charge as well as all those -already leveled at her. She appeared to have no thought of impending -danger or of the need of replying. Her mind was elsewhere. She was -listening to something other than those words, seeing something other -than what was before her eyes; and, as Bernard had remarked, it was as -though she were preoccupied with outside happenings rather than with the -terrible position in which she found herself. - -But why? What was she hoping for? - -A minute elapsed; and another minute. - -Then, somewhere in the cellar, in the upper part of it, there was a -sound, a sort of click. - -The countess drew herself up. And she listened with all her concentrated -attention and with an expression of such eagerness that nobody disturbed -the tremendous silence. Paul Delroze and M. d'Andeville had -instinctively stepped back to the table. And the Comtesse Hermine went -on listening. . . . - -Suddenly, above her head, in the very thickness of the vaulted ceiling, -an electric bell rang . . . only for a few seconds. . . . Four peals of -equal length. . . . And that was all. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE DEATH PENALTY--AND A CAPITAL PUNISHMENT - - -The Comtesse Hermine started up triumphantly; and this movement of hers -was even more dramatic than the inexplicable vibration of that electric -bell. She gave a cry of fierce delight, followed by an outburst of -laughter. The whole expression of her face changed. It denoted no more -anxiety, no more of that tension indicating a groping and bewildered -mind, nothing but insolence, assurance, scorn and intense pride. - -"Fools!" she snarled. "Fools! So you really believed--oh, what -simpletons you Frenchmen are!--that you had me caught like a rat in a -trap? Me! Me! . . ." - -The words rushed forth so volubly, so hurriedly, that her utterance was -impeded. She became rigid, closing her eyes for a moment. Then, -summoning up a great effort of will, she put out her right arm, pushed -aside a chair and uncovered a little mahogany slab with a brass switch, -for which she felt with her hand while her eyes remained turned on Paul, -on the Comte d'Andeville, on his son and on the three officers. And, in -a dry, cutting voice, she rapped out: - -"What have I to fear from you now? You wish to know if I am the Countess -von Hohenzollern? Yes, I am. I don't deny it, I even proclaim the fact. -The actions which you, in your stupid way, call murders, yes, I -committed them all. It was my duty to the Emperor, to the greater -Germany. . . . A spy? Not at all. Simply a German woman. And what a -German woman does for her country is rightly done. So let us have no -more silly phrases, no more babbling about the past. Nothing matters but -the present and the future. And I am once more mistress of the present -and the future both. Thanks to you, I am resuming the direction of -events; and we shall have some amusement. . . . Shall I tell you -something? All that has happened here during the past few days was -prepared by myself. The bridges carried away by the river were sapped at -their foundations by my orders. Why? For the trivial purpose of making -you fall back? No doubt, that was necessary first: we had to announce a -victory. Victory or not, it shall be announced; and it will have its -effect, that I promise you. But I wanted something better; and I have -succeeded." - -She stopped and then, leaning her body towards her hearers, continued, -in a lower voice: - -"The retreat, the disorder among your troops, the need of opposing our -advance and bringing up reinforcements must needs compel your -commander-in-chief to come here and take counsel with his generals. For -months past, I have been lying in wait for him. It was impossible for me -to get within reach of him. So what was I to do? Why, of course, as I -couldn't go to him, I must make him come to me and lure him to a place, -chosen by myself, where I had made all my arrangements. Well, he has -come. My arrangements are made. And I have only to act. . . . I have -only to act! He is here, in a room at the little villa which he occupies -whenever he comes to Soissons. He is there, I know it. I was waiting for -the signal which one of my men was to give me. You have heard the signal -yourselves. So there is no doubt about it. The man whom I want is at -this moment deliberating with his generals in a house which I know and -which I have had mined. He has with him a general commanding an army and -another general, the commander of an army corps. Both are of the ablest. -There are three of them, not to speak of their subordinates. And I have -only to make a movement, understand what I say, a single movement, I -have only to touch this lever to blow them all up, together with the -house in which they are. Am I to make that movement?" - -There was a sharp click. Bernard d'Andeville had cocked his revolver: - -"We must kill the beast!" he cried. - -Paul rushed at him, shouting: - -"Hold your tongue! And don't move a finger!" - -The countess began laughing again; and her laugh was full of wicked -glee: - -"You're right, Paul Delroze, my man. You take in the situation, you do. -However quickly that young booby may fire his bullet at me, I shall -always have time to pull the lever. And that's what you don't want, -isn't it? That's what these other gentlemen and you want to avoid at all -costs . . . even at the cost of my liberty, eh? For that is how the -matter stands, alas! All my fine plan is falling to pieces because I am -in your hands. But I alone am worth as much as your three great -generals, am I not? And I have every right to spare them in order to -save myself. So are we agreed? Their lives against mine! And at once! -. . . Paul Delroze, I give you one minute in which to consult your -friends. If in one minute, speaking in their name and your own, you do -not give me your word of honor that you consider me free and that I -shall receive every facility for crossing the Swiss frontier, then . . . -then heigh-ho, up we go, as the children say! . . . Oh, how I've got -you, all of you! And the humor of it! Hurry up, friend Delroze, your -word! Yes, that's all I ask. Hang it, the word of a French officer! Ha, -ha, ha, ha!" - -Her nervous, scornful laugh went on ringing through the dead silence. -And it happened gradually that its tone rang less surely, like words -that fail to produce the intended effect. It rang false, broke and -suddenly ceased. - -And she stood in dumb amazement: Paul Delroze had not budged, nor had -any of the officers nor any of the soldiers in the room. - -She shook her fist at them: - -"You're to hurry, do you hear? . . . You have one minute, my French -friends, one minute and no more! . . ." - -Not a man moved. - -She counted the seconds in a low voice and announced them aloud by tens. - -At the fortieth second, she stopped, with an anxious look on her face. -Those present were as motionless as before. Then she yielded to a fit of -fury: - -"Why, you must be mad!" she cried. "Don't you understand? Oh, perhaps -you don't believe me? Yes, that's it, they don't believe me! They can't -imagine that it's possible! Possible? Why, it's your own soldiers who -worked for me! Yes, by laying telephone-lines between the post-office -and the villa used for head-quarters! My assistants had only to tap the -wires and the thing was done: the mine-chamber Under the villa was -connected with this cellar. Do you believe me now?" - -Her hoarse, panting voice ceased. Her misgivings, which had become more -and more marked, distorted her features. Why did none of those men move? -Why did they pay no attention to her orders? Had they taken the -incredible resolution to accept whatever happened rather than show her -mercy? - -"Look here," she said, "you understand me, surely? Or else you have all -gone mad! Come, think of it: your generals, the effect which their death -would cause, the tremendous impression of our power which it would give! -. . . And the confusion that would follow! The retreat of your troops! -The disorganization of the staff! . . . Come, come! . . ." - -It seemed as if she was trying to convince them; nay, more, as if she -was beseeching them to look at things from her point of view and to -admit the consequence which she had attributed to her action. For her -plan to succeed, it was essential that they should consent to act -logically. Otherwise . . . otherwise . . . - -Suddenly she seemed to recoil against the humiliating sort of -supplication to which she had been stooping. Resuming her threatening -attitude, she cried: - -"So much the worse for them! So much the worse for them! It will be you -who have condemned them! So you insist upon it? We are quite agreed? -. . . And then I suppose you think you've got me! Come, come now! Even -if you show yourselves pig-headed, the Comtesse Hermine has not said her -last word! You don't know the Comtesse Hermine! The Comtesse Hermine -never surrenders! . . ." - -She was possessed by a sort of frenzy and was horrible to look at. -Twisting and writhing with rage, hideous of face, aged by fully twenty -years, she suggested the picture of a devil burning in the flames of -hell. She cursed. She blasphemed. She gave vent to a string of oaths. -She even laughed, at the thought of the catastrophe which her next -movement would produce. And she spluttered: - -"All right! It's you, it's you who are the executioners! . . . Oh, what -folly! . . . So you will have it so? But they must be mad! Look at them, -calmly sacrificing their generals, their commander-in-chief, in their -stupid obstinacy. Well, so much the worse for them! You have insisted on -it. I hold you responsible. A word from you, a single word. . . ." - -She had a last moment of hesitation. With a fierce and unyielding face -she stared at those stubborn men who seemed to be obeying an implacable -command. Not one of them budged. - -Then it seemed as if, at the moment of taking the fatal decision, she -was overcome with such an outburst of voluptuous wickedness that it made -her forget the horror of her own position. She simply said: - -"May God's will be done and my Emperor gain the victory!" - -Stiffening her body, her eyes staring before her, she touched the switch -with her finger. - -The effect was almost immediate. Through the outer air, through the -vaulted roof, the sound of the explosion reached the cellar. The ground -seemed to shake, as though the vibration had spread through the bowels -of the earth. - -Then came silence. The Comtesse Hermine listened for a few seconds -longer. Her face was radiant with joy. She repeated: - -"So that my Emperor may gain the victory!" - -And suddenly, bringing her arm down to her side, she thrust herself -backwards, among the skirts and blouses against which she was leaning, -and seemed actually to sink into the wall and disappear from sight. - -A heavy door closed with a bang and, almost at the same moment, a shot -rang through the cellar. Bernard had fired at the row of clothes. And he -was rushing towards the hidden door when Paul collared him and held him -where he stood. - -Bernard struggled in Paul's grasp: - -"But she's escaping us! . . . Why can't you let me go after her? . . . -Look here, surely you remember the Ebrecourt tunnel and the system of -electric wires? This is the same thing exactly! And here she is getting -away! . . ." - -He could not understand Paul's conduct. And his sister was as indignant -as himself. Here was the foul creature who had killed their mother, who -had stolen their mother's name and place; and they were allowing her to -escape. - -"Paul," she cried, "Paul, you must go after her, you must make an end of -her! . . . Paul, you can't forget all that she has done!" - -Elisabeth did not forget. She remembered the Chateau d'Ornequin and -Prince Conrad's villa and the evening when she had been compelled to -toss down a bumper of champagne and the bargain enforced upon her and -all the shame and torture to which she had been put. - -But Paul paid no attention to either the brother or the sister, nor did -the officers and soldiers. All observed the same rigidly impassive -attitude, seemed unaffected by what was happening. - -Two or three minutes passed, during which a few words were exchanged in -whispers, while not a soul stirred. Broken down and shattered with -excitement, Elisabeth wept. Bernard's flesh crept at the sound of his -sister's sobs and he felt as if he was suffering from one of those -nightmares in which we witness the most horrible sights without having -the strength or the power to act. - -And then something happened which everybody except Bernard and Elisabeth -seemed to think quite natural. There was a grating sound behind the row -of clothes. The invisible door moved on its hinges. The clothes parted -and made way for a human form which was flung on the ground like a -bundle. - -Bernard d'Andeville uttered an exclamation of delight. Elisabeth looked -and laughed through her tears. It was the Comtesse Hermine, bound and -gagged. - -Three gendarmes entered after her: - -"We've delivered the goods, sir," one of them jested, with a fat, jolly -chuckle. "We were beginning to get a bit nervous and to wonder if you'd -guessed right and if this was really the way she meant to clear out by. -But, by Jove, sir, the baggage gave us some work to do. A proper -hell-cat! She struggled and bit like a badger. And the way she yelled! -Oh, the vixen!" And, to the soldiers, who were in fits of laughter, -"Mates, this bit of game was just what we wanted to finish off our day's -hunting. It's a grand bag; and Lieutenant Delroze scented the trail -finely. There's a picture for you! A whole gang of Boches in one day! -. . . Look out, sir, what are you doing? Mind the beast's fangs!" - -Paul was stooping over the spy. He loosened her gag, which seemed to be -hurting her. She at once tried to call out, but succeeded only in -uttering stifled and incoherent syllables. Nevertheless, Paul was able -to make out a few words, against which he protested: - -"No," he said, "not even that to console you. The game is lost. And -that's the worst punishment of all, isn't it? To die without having done -the harm you meant to do. And such harm, too!" - -He rose and went up to the group of officers. The three, having -fulfilled their functions as judges, were talking together; and one of -them said to Paul: - -"Well played, Delroze. My best congratulations." - -"Thank you, sir. I would have prevented this attempt to escape. But I -wanted to heap up every possible proof against the woman and not only to -accuse her of the crimes which she has committed, but to show her to you -in the act of committing crime." - -"Ay; and there's nothing half-hearted about the vixen! But for you, -Delroze, the villa would have been blown up with all my staff and myself -into the bargain! . . . But what was the explosion which we heard?" - -"A condemned building, sir, which had already been demolished by the -shells and which the commandant of the fortress wanted to get rid of. We -only had to divert the electric wire which starts from here." - -"So the whole gang is captured?" - -"Yes, sir, thanks to a spy whom I had the luck to lay my hands on just -now and who told me what I had to do in order to get in here. He had -first revealed the Comtesse Hermine's plan in full detail, together with -the names of all his accomplices. It was arranged that the man was to -let the countess know, at ten o'clock this evening, by means of that -electric bell, if you were holding a council in your villa. The notice -was given, but by one of our own soldiers, acting under my orders." - -"Well done; and, once more, thank you, Delroze." - -The general stepped into the circle of light. He was tall and powerfully -built. His upper lip was covered with a thick white mustache. - -There was a movement of surprise among those present. Bernard -d'Andeville and his sister came forward. The soldiers stood to -attention. They had recognized the general commanding-in-chief. With him -were the two generals of whom the countess had spoken. - -The gendarmes had pushed the spy against the wall opposite. They untied -her legs, but had to support her, because her knees were giving way -beneath her. - -And her face expressed unspeakable amazement even more than terror. With -wide-open eyes she stared at the man whom she had meant to kill, the man -whom she believed to be dead and who was alive and who would shortly -pronounce the inevitable sentence of death upon her. - -Paul repeated: - -"To die without having done the harm you intended to do, that is the -really terrible thing, is it not?" - -The commander-in-chief was alive! The hideous and tremendous plot had -failed! He was alive and so were his officers and so was every one of -the spy's enemies. Paul Delroze, Stephane d'Andeville, Bernard, -Elisabeth, those whom she had pursued with her indefatigable hatred: -they were all there! She was about to die gazing at the vision, so -horrible for her, of her enemies reunited and happy. - -And above all she was about to die with the thought that everything was -lost. Her great dream was shattered to pieces. Her Emperor's throne was -tottering. The very soul of the Hohenzollerns was departing with the -Comtesse Hermine. And all this was plainly visible in her haggard eyes, -from which gleams of madness flashed at intervals. - -The general said to one of those with him: - -"Have you given the order? Are they shooting the lot?" - -"Yes, this evening, sir." - -"Very well, we'll begin with this woman. And at once. Here, where we -are." - -The spy gave a start. With a distortion of all her features she -succeeded in shifting her gag; and they heard her beseeching for mercy -in a torrent of words and moans. - -"Let us go," said the commander-in-chief. - -He felt two burning hands press his own. Elisabeth was leaning towards -him and entreating him with tears. - -Paul introduced his wife. The general said, gently: - -"I see that you feel pity, madame, in spite of all that you have gone -through. But you must have no pity, madame. Of course it is the pity -which we cannot help feeling for those about to die. But we must have no -pity for these people or for members of their race. They have placed -themselves beyond the pale of mankind; and we must never forget it. When -you are a mother, madame, you will teach your children a feeling to -which France was a stranger and which will prove a safeguard in the -future: hatred of the Huns." - -He took her by the arm in a friendly fashion and led her towards the -door: - -"Allow me to see you out. Are you coming, Delroze? You must need rest -after such a day's work." - -They went out. - -The spy was shrieking: - -"Mercy! Mercy!" - -The soldiers were already drawn up in line along the opposite wall. - -The count, Paul and Bernard waited for a moment. She had killed the -Comte d'Andeville's wife. She had killed Bernard's mother and Paul's -father. She had tortured Elisabeth. And, though their minds were -troubled, they felt the great calm which the sense of justice gives. No -hatred stirred them. No thought of vengeance excited them. - -The gendarmes had fastened the spy by the waistband to a nail in the -wall, to hold her up. They now stood aside. - -Paul said to her: - -"One of the soldiers here is a priest. If you need his assistance. -. . ." - -But she did not understand. She did not listen. She merely saw what was -happening and what was about to happen; and she stammered without -ceasing: - -"Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . ." - -They went out. When they came to the top of the staircase, a word of -command reached their ears: - -"Present! . . ." - -Lest he should hear more, Paul slammed the inner and outer hall-doors -behind him. - -Outside was the open air, the good pure air with which men love to fill -their lungs. Troops were marching along, singing as they went. Paul and -Bernard learnt that the battle was over and our positions definitely -assured. Here also the Comtesse Hermine had failed. . . . - - * * * * * - -A few days later, at the Chateau d'Ornequin, Second Lieutenant Bernard -d'Andeville, accompanied by twelve men, entered the casemate, -well-warmed and well-ventilated, which served as a prison for Prince -Conrad. - -On the table were some bottles and the remains of an ample repast. The -prince lay sleeping on a bed against the wall. Bernard tapped him on the -shoulder: - -"Courage, sir." - -The prisoner sprang up, terrified: - -"Eh? What's that?" - -"I said, courage, sir. The hour has come." - -Pale as death, the prince stammered: - -"Courage? . . . Courage? . . . I don't understand. . . . Oh Lord, oh -Lord, is it possible?" - -"Everything is always possible," said Bernard, "and what has to happen -always happens, especially calamities." And he suggested, "A glass of -rum, sir, to pull you together? A cigarette?" - -"Oh Lord, oh Lord!" the prince repeated, trembling like a leaf. - -Mechanically he took the cigarette offered him. But it fell from his -lips after the first few puffs. - -"Oh Lord, oh Lord!" he never ceased stammering. - -And his distress increased when he saw the twelve men waiting, with -their rifles at rest. He wore the distraught look of the condemned man -who beholds the outline of the guillotine in the pale light of the dawn. -They had to carry him to the terrace, in front of a strip of broken -wall. - -"Sit down, sir," said Bernard. - -Even without this invitation, the wretched man would have been incapable -of standing on his feet. He sank upon a stone. - -The twelve soldiers took up their position facing him. He bent his head -so as not to see; and his whole body jerked like that of a dancing doll -when you pull its strings. - -A moment passed; and Bernard asked, in a kind and friendly tone: - -"Would you rather have it front or back?" - -The prince, utterly overwhelmed, did not reply; and Bernard exclaimed: - -"I'm afraid you're not very well, sir. Come, your royal highness must -pull yourself together. You have lots of time. Lieutenant Delroze won't -be here for another ten minutes. He was very keen on being present at -this--how shall I put it?--at this little ceremony. And really he will -be disappointed in your appearance. You're green in the face, sir." - -Still displaying the greatest interest and as though seeking to divert -the prince's thoughts, he said: - -"What can I tell you, sir, by way of news? You know that your friend -the Comtesse Hermine is dead, I suppose? Ha, ha, that makes you prick up -your ears, I see! It's quite true: that good and great woman was -executed the other day at Soissons. And, upon my word, she cut just as -poor a figure as you are doing now, sir. They had to hold her up. And -the way she yelled and screamed for mercy! There was no pose about her, -no dignity. But I can see that your thoughts are straying. Bother! What -can I do to cheer you up? Ah, I have an idea! . . ." - -He took a little paper-bound book from his pocket: - -"Look here, sir, I'll read to you. Of course, a Bible would be more -appropriate; only I haven't one on me. And the great thing, after all, -is to help you to forget; and I know nothing better for a German who -prides himself on his country and his army than this little book. We'll -dip into it together, shall we? It's called _German Crimes as Related by -German Eye-witnesses_. It consists of extracts from the diaries of your -fellow-countrymen. It is therefore one of those irrefutable documents -which earn the respect of German science. I'll open it at random. Here -goes. 'The inhabitants fled from the village. It was a horrible sight. -All the houses were plastered with blood; and the faces of the dead were -hideous to see. We buried them all at once; there were sixty of them, -including a number of old women, some old men, a woman about to become a -mother, and three children who had pressed themselves against one -another and who died like that. All the survivors were turned out; and -I saw four little boys carrying on two sticks a cradle with a child of -five or six months in it. The whole village was sacked. And I also saw a -mother with two babies and one of them had a great wound in the head and -had lost an eye.'" - -Bernard stopped to address the prince: - -"Interesting reading, is it not, sir?" - -And he went on: - -"'_26 August._ The charming village of Gue d'Hossus, in the Ardennes, -has been burnt to the ground, though quite innocent, as it seems to me. -They tell me that a cyclist fell from his machine and that the fall made -his rifle go off of its own accord, so they fired in his direction. -After that, they simply threw the male inhabitants into the flames.' -Here's another bit: '_25 August._' This was in Belgium. 'We have shot -three hundred of the inhabitants of the town. Those who survived the -volleys were told off to bury the rest. You should have seen the women's -faces!'" - -And the reading continued, interrupted by judicious reflections which -Bernard emitted in a placid voice, as though he were commenting on an -historical work. Prince Conrad, meanwhile, seemed on the verge of -fainting. - -When Paul arrived at the Chateau d'Ornequin and, alighting from his car, -went to the terrace, the sight of the prince and the careful -stage-setting with the twelve soldiers told him of the rather uncanny -little comedy which Bernard was playing. He uttered a reproachful -protest: - -"I say! Bernard!" - -The young man exclaimed, in an innocent voice: - -"Ah, Paul, so you've come? Quick! His royal highness and I were waiting -for you. We shall be able to finish off this job at last!" - -He went and stood in front of his men at ten paces from the prince: - -"Are you ready, sir? Ah, I see you prefer it front way! . . . Very well, -though I can't say that you're very attractive seen from the front. -However. . . . Oh, but look here, this will never do! Don't bend your -legs like that, I beg of you. Hold yourself up, do! And please look -pleasant. Now then; keep your eyes on my cap. . . . I'm counting: one -. . . two . . . Look pleasant, can't you?" - -He had lowered his head and was holding a pocket camera against his -chest. Presently he squeezed the bulb, the camera clicked and Bernard -exclaimed: - -"There! I've got you! Sir, I don't know how to thank you. You have been -_so_ kind, _so_ patient. The smile was a little forced perhaps, like the -smile of a man on his way to the gallows, and the eyes were like the -eyes of a corpse. Otherwise the expression was quite charming. A -thousand thanks." - -Paul could not help laughing. Prince Conrad had not fully grasped the -joke. However, he felt that the danger was past and he was now trying to -put a good face on things, like a gentleman accustomed to bear any sort -of misfortune with dignified contempt. - -Paul said: - -"You are free, sir. I have an appointment with one of the Emperor's -aides-de-camp on the frontier at three o'clock to-day. He is bringing -twenty French prisoners and I am to hand your royal highness over to him -in exchange. Pray, step into the car." - -Prince Conrad obviously did not grasp a word of what Paul was saying. -The appointment on the frontier, the twenty prisoners and the rest were -just so many phrases which failed to make any impression on his -bewildered brain. But, when he had taken his seat and when the motor-car -drove slowly round the lawn, he saw something that completed his -discomfiture. Elisabeth stood on the grass and made him a smiling -curtsey. - -It was an obvious hallucination. He rubbed his eyes with a flabbergasted -air which so clearly indicated what was in his mind that Bernard said: - -"Make no mistake, sir. It's my sister all right. Yes, Paul Delroze and I -thought we had better go and fetch her in Germany. So we turned up our -Baedeker, asked for an interview with the Emperor and it was His Majesty -himself who, with his usual good grace. . . . Oh, by the way, sir, you -must expect to receive a wigging from the governor! His Majesty is -simply furious with you. Such a scandal, you know! Behaving like a -rotter, you know! You're in for a bad time, sir!" - -The exchange took place at the hour named. The twenty prisoners were -handed over. Paul Delroze took the aide-de-camp aside: - -"Sir," he said, "you will please tell the Emperor that the Comtesse -Hermine von Hohenzollern made an attempt to assassinate the -commander-in-chief. She was arrested by me, tried by court-martial and -sentenced and has been shot by the commander-in-chief's orders. I am in -possession of a certain number of her papers, especially private letters -to which I have no doubt that the Emperor himself attaches the greatest -importance. They will be returned to His Majesty on the day when the -Chateau d'Ornequin recovers all its furniture, pictures and other -valuables. I wish you good-day, sir." - -It was over. Paul had won all along the line. He had delivered Elisabeth -and revenged his father's death. He had destroyed the head of the German -secret service and, by insisting on the release of the twenty French -prisoners, kept all the promises which he had made to the general -commanding-in-chief. He had every right to be proud of his work. - -On the way back, Bernard asked: - -"So I shocked you just now?" - -"You more than shocked me," said Paul, laughing. "You made me feel -indignant." - -"Indignant! Really? Indignant, quotha! Here's a young bounder who tries -to take your wife from you and who is let off with a few days' solitary -confinement! Here's one of the leaders of those highwaymen who go about -committing murder and pillage; and he goes home free to start pillaging -and murdering again! Why, it's absurd! Just think: all those scoundrels -who wanted war--emperors and princes and emperors' and princes' -wives--know nothing of war but its pomp and its tragic beauty and -absolutely nothing of the agony that falls upon humbler people! They -suffer morally in the dread of the punishment that awaits them, but not -physically, in their flesh and in the flesh of their flesh. The others -die. They go on living. And, when I have this unparalleled opportunity -of getting hold of one of them, when I might take revenge on him and his -confederates and shoot him in cold blood, as they shoot our sisters and -our wives, you think it out of the way that I should put the fear of -death into him for just ten minutes! Why, if I had listened to sound -human and logical justice, I ought to have visited him with some -trifling torture which he would never have forgotten, such as cutting -off one of the ears or the tip of his nose!" - -"You're perfectly right," said Paul. - -"There, you see, you agree with me! I should have cut off the tip of his -nose! What a fool I was not to do it, instead of resting content with -giving him a wretched lesson which he will have forgotten by to-morrow! -What an ass I am! However, my one consolation is that I have taken a -photograph which will constitute a priceless document: the face of a -Hohenzollern in the presence of death. Oh, I ask you, did you see his -face? . . ." - -The car was passing through Ornequin village. It was deserted. The Huns -had burnt down every house and taken away all the inhabitants, driving -them before them like troops of slaves. - -But they saw, seated amid the ruins, a man in rags. He was an old man. -He stared at them foolishly, with a madman's eyes. Beside him a child -was holding forth its arms, poor little arms from which the hands were -gone. . . . - - -THE END - - - - -Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the -original edition have been corrected. - -In the Table of Contents, "Elisabeth's Diary" was changed to -"Elisabeth's Diary". - -In Chapter I, "was standin on the pavement" was changed to "was standing -on the pavement". - -In Chapter II, "The estate surrounded by farms and fields" was changed -to "The estate, surrounded by farms and fields", and "Elisazeth suddenly -gripped her husband's arm" was changed to "Elisabeth suddenly gripped -her husband's arm". - -In Chapter III, a quotation marks were added after "Confess it, you've -made a mistake" and "the wretched, monstrous woman", and "a regular, -montononous, uninterrupted ringing" was changed to "a regular, -monotonous, uninterrupted ringing". - -In Chapter IV, "_That's a queer fellow_, said he colonel" was changed to -"_That's a queer fellow_, said the colonel", and "care of M. -D'Andeville" was changed to "care of M. d'Andeville". - -In Chapter V, "but got no farther" was changed to "but go no farther". - -In Chapter VI, "echoed Paul, is alarm" was changed to "echoed Paul, in -alarm", "ought to be cheerful. . ." was changed to "ought to be -cheerful. . . .", and "rather a serious of explosions" was changed to -"rather a series of explosions". - -In Chapter VII, a missing period was added after "at a man's height". - -In Chapter XIII, a single quote (') was changed to a double quote (") -after "You're sure of holding out, aren't you?", "essential imporance" -was changed to "essential importance", and a quotation mark was added -after "Is it really you? . . ." - -In Chapter XVI, "He'll go with you like a limb" was changed to "He'll go -with you like a lamb". - -In Chapter XVII, a single quote (') was changed to a double quote (") -after "A damnable lie!" - -In Chapter XVIII, "his recest victory over the Emperor" was changed to -"his recent victory over the Emperor", and "I shall take a rest till -them" was changed to "I shall take a rest till then". - -In Chapter XIX, "I have found one of your occomplices" was changed to "I -have found one of your accomplices", a quotation mark was added after -"went down to the south to die", and "telling him of your inplacable -determination" was changed to "telling him of your implacable -determination". - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Woman of Mystery, by Maurice Leblanc - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY *** - -***** This file should be named 34931.txt or 34931.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/9/3/34931/ - -Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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