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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3fd7518 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #65709 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65709) diff --git a/old/65709-0.txt b/old/65709-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6087548..0000000 --- a/old/65709-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5805 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The House of the Secret, by Claude Farrère - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The House of the Secret - (La maison des hommes vivants) - -Author: Claude Farrère - -Translator: Arthur Livingston - -Release Date: June 27, 2021 [eBook #65709] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE SECRET *** - -THE HOUSE OF THE SECRET - -(_LA MAISON DES HOMMES VIVANTS_) - -BY - -CLAUDE FARRÈRE - -AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY - -ARTHUR LIVINGSTON - -[Illustration: Logo] - -NEW YORK -E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY -681 FIFTH AVENUE - - - - -Copyright, 1923 -By E. P. Dutton & Company - -_All Rights Reserved_ - - -_First edition limited to 1500 copies_ - - -PRINTED IN THE UNITED -STATES OF AMERICA - - - - -The House of the Secret - - - - -I - - -This day, January 20, 1909, I have decided to set my story down in -writing. Dangerous and terrifying the task! But I must perform it. For -day after tomorrow I shall be dead. Day after tomorrow.... Just two -days! And death from old age! Of this I am as certain as a man can be -of anything. What, then, have I to lose by speaking? - -Speak I must! - -That much I owe to the unsuspecting men and women who are to survive -me. They are in danger; and I must warn them.... Day after tomorrow I -shall be safe. Day after tomorrow I shall be dead.... And this is my -testament and last will, written in my own hand! To all men and women, -my brothers and my sisters, I bequeath--a Secret, _the_ Secret. May my -death serve as a warning to them, one and all! Such is my last will and -testament.... - -Now I am quite in my right mind--let there be no doubt of that. I am -sound, absolutely sound, in mind and, for that matter, in body. I have -never known what it means to be sick. But I am old, old beyond human -experience of age. How old, I wonder? Eighty? A hundred? Make it a -hundred and fifty! It really doesn’t matter. I have nothing to decide -the question. You might find my birth certificate, papers I may have -written, people who may have known me. Such things would not help. Not -even my own sensations give me any accurate impression of my actual -age. I have been old for such a very few days! I have had no time to -grow accustomed to the sudden change. There is no comparison, either, -between my absorption of the centuries and ordinary old age--this last, -indeed, has never been mine. I became what I am instantaneously, one -may say. - -I am cold, inside here, in my blood, in my flesh, in my bones. And -tired, horribly, unendurably tired, with a fatigue that sleep cannot -alleviate! My arms and legs are heavy and my joints are stiff. My teeth -are chattering. I cannot bring them together on my food. I struggle to -stand erect; but my shoulders stoop inexorably. I am hard of hearing. -My eyes are dim. And these infirmities are the more excruciating -because they each are new. No living man, I am sure, has ever been -quite as miserable as I. - -But it will all be over in two days! Forty-eight hours! Two thousand -eight hundred and forty-eight minutes! What is a matter of two days? -The prospect fills my heart with hopefulness; though death, in itself, -is a terrible thing, far more terrible than living men imagine. That I -know, as no one else knows. But I am ready! The life I am leading has -ceased to be anything resembling life. - -So then, I am in my right mind. My head is clear. Furthermore, I am -about to die. Two considerations, these, that should dispel all doubt -as to my veracity. A man does not lie when he stands on the threshold -of Eternity! So I beg of you who find this little book of mine, of -all you who read this story of my Adventure--in the name of your -God, if you have one, do not doubt me! I am not spinning you a yarn, -nor telling you a tale for an idle hour. A great danger hangs over -you, over your son, your daughter, your wife, your dear ones! Do not -scorn my warning, therefore! Do not shrug your shoulders, or tap your -forehead! I am not a lunatic! And death is standing near you! Do not -laugh, either. But read, understand, believe--and, then--do as your -best judgment dictates. - -Forgive me if I write with a trembling hand. The words may seem faint, -almost illegible, at times. I found a pencil lying in a gutter on the -roadside. Its point is dulled, and it is too short for my stiffened -fingers. And this paper--from a funeral register--is not of the best. -Its broad black border leaves very little space and compels me to cramp -my lines. A broad black border! How inconvenient! Yet how appropriate! -This funeral page is perchance the best for such a story as mine! - -Here I begin. And again I beg of you; doubt me not, but read, -understand, believe! - - - - -II - - -It all started with a letter from Colonel Terrisse, commander of field -artillery, to Vice-Admiral de Fierce, commander-in-chief of the Western -Mediterranean, prefect of the Maritime reserve, line-officer, and -governor of the fortress of Toulon. The letter in question came in to -Staff Headquarters by the evening mail of Monday, December 21, 1908. -Notice now! That was the twenty-first of _last_ December. It is now -the 20th of January, 1909. Not quite a month ago! It will be a month -tomorrow, day for day. A month! One single month! Gods of Heaven and -Hell! - -The Colonel’s letter reached Headquarters by the evening mail--military -headquarters, you understand, not the naval. At Toulon, as is the -case with similar stations, the vice-admiral in command functions -in a double capacity as maritime prefect and military governor. His -residence is the mansion of the prefecture; while his adjutant occupies -the governor’s house. There are thus separate offices communicating by -telephone. The wire is for obvious reasons a private one, independent -of the city “central.” - -I was in the officers’ room when the mail came in; and I opened -the letter. Among my duties was that of reading and sorting -the correspondence of the military commander. I was a captain -of cavalry detailed to the General Staff. I was young--just -thirty-three--thirty-three, mark you! And that was less than a calendar -month ago! Four weeks and two days ago, to be exact. - -I opened the letter; and read it. It was a matter of no great interest -that I could see. I am going to transcribe it textually, however, for I -can see it right before me now. - - - _XVth Army Corps_ - - FORTRESS OF TOULON - - _Toulon, Dec. 21, 1908._ - - _Corr. No. 287_ - _Re: Broken Telegraph Wires_ - - Vice-Admiral Charles de Fierce, - Commander-in-Chief of Western Mediterranean, - Headquarters, Navy Yard, Toulon. - - Sir:-- - - I have the honor to report that telegraph poles Nos. 171, 172, - 173, 174, 175 are down as the result of a wash-out occurring on - Dec. 19th last, and that, in consequence, the Tourris-Grand Cap - line is out of commission. - - I have issued the necessary orders for repairs. In view of the - heavy rains and the long distance the repair crew will have to - cover over muddy roads, it is probable that the poles cannot be - in place again under forty-eight hours. All communication by wire - between Toulon and Grand Cap will accordingly be impossible for - that length of time. - - I have the honor to be, sir, - - Your Obedient Servant, - TERRISSE, - _Colonel-in-Command of Field Artillery_. - - -I need not observe that, in peace times, Toulon and the Grand Cap have -nothing of importance to say to each other, with the single exception -of days when there is target practice. The Grand Cap is one of the -mountains in the chain east of Toulon. It is a bold, forbidding pile of -rock, crowned with a modern and fairly strong battery. Ordinarily the -place is held by a corporal’s guard, a full garrison being stationed -there only during periods of manœuvre. The country around the mountain -is a rough uncultivated heath virtually uninhabited. Charcoal burners -camp there from time to time; but there are no farms nor permanent -settlements. The wire leading to that God-forsaken place could be down -for more than two days without the world’s coming to an end on that -account! I was intending to file the colonel’s letter and let it go at -that, when the telegraph corporal knocked at the office door. - -“A call for you, Captain,” he said, “from Naval Headquarters!” - -“I’ll be there directly,” I replied. - -As I rose from my chair, I chanced to look at the clock over the -fireplace. - -It was three P.M., to the minute. - -I stepped down the corridor to the telephone booth, which was in the -adjoining room. - -I took up the receiver. - -The voice calling me by name over the wire, was, as I recognized to my -surprise, that of Vice-Admiral de Fierce, himself. - -“Hello! That you, Narcy!” - -“At your service, Admiral!” - -“Barras tells me you have a horse down at Solliès-Pont. Is that right?” - -“Quite so, Admiral. I left my bay down there, last night.” - -“What condition is he in? Pretty good?” - -“Excellent! Hasn’t worked for some days. I was intending to use him -tomorrow, for the inspection at Fenouillet.” - -“Splendid! However, the inspection at Fenouillet is off. But I’ve got a -dirty job to attend to; and I don’t see anybody handy except you.” - -“Quite at your service, Admiral!” - -“Good!... You know the wire is down between here and the Grand Cap?” - -“I just received a letter to that effect from Colonel Terrisse.” - -“Now that’s a nuisance, just at this moment. The guard up at the -battery there must be informed at all hazards that the seventy-fives -will be working over at Roca-Troca tomorrow.” - -“Tomorrow, Admiral?” - -“Yes, firing starts at noon. We can’t put it off, because General Felte -must get away from Toulon tomorrow night at the latest. They’re going -to shell the approaches to the mountain; and we’ve got to warn any -wood-choppers there may be in the neighborhood. Otherwise somebody will -be getting hurt! What time is it now, Narcy?” - -“Three five, Admiral.” - -“How far do you make it, from here to Solliès-Pont?” - -“Ten or twelve miles.” - -“Good! Well, telephone your orderly ... you have a man down there, -haven’t you?...” - -“Yes, Admiral!” - -“ ... tell him to get your horse ready and bring it to you somewhere -along the road.... Are you in uniform?” - -“No, Admiral, military regulations permit civilian after luncheon as -you know. I am wearing a riding suit, however, with boots and spurs. I -was thinking of trying out Colonel Lescaut’s new mare this afternoon.” - -“Fine! I’ll send my car over to get you in five minutes. My man will -drive you down to Solliès-Pont, and you’ll be there by 3:40. There’s -no way of going on by auto, is there?” - -“To the Grand Cap? Impossible, Admiral. Even Valaury is difficult for -wagons.” - -“You know the way?” - -“I think so. I went over the ground once last year, during evolutions. -Beyond Valaury you have to take a trail, a sort of mountain road.” - -“But a horse can do it?” - -“It was on a horse that I went there.” - -“Very well, then. Try to make it. But the Grand Cap is a good hour and -a half beyond Solliès-Pont, and it gets dark at five. You understand -that?” - -“I’ll spend the night up on the Cap, of course.” - -“Yes. And it won’t be so bad. There’s an officers’ building there -with good beds. The guard will fix you up. And you can come back in -the morning. Sorry to give you a job like this, Narcy. But I don’t -just see any other way out of it. We’ve got to get word to the people -there. I had thought of sending a car around, by way of Revest. But -just our luck! The road is torn up all the way from Ragas to Morière. -The simplest thing is for someone who knows the road to ride out from -Solliès-Pont. And you seem to be the only man in sight.” - -“Glad to be of use, Admiral. Your car is here now. I hear the engine -out in the yard.” - -“Be sure to telephone your man at Solliès-Pont.” - -“The corporal will do that for me. I’m off without losing a second’s -time!” - -“And ever so much obliged, eh, Narcy? Call and see me when you get -back!” - -I hung up the receiver. The telegraph corporal was standing outside -the booth with my water-proof and my soft felt hat. A misty rain was -falling outside. - -I hurried back into the office, gave a turn at the combination on the -safe, and locked the cabinet for the correspondence files. This latter -operation wasted a good half minute. The lock was out of order and -refused to turn. After some cursing on my part, it yielded to the key. - -Through the white lace curtains hanging over the office windows -a bright, though grayish light was streaming in from the waning -afternoon. The stove was glowing red, giving the room a touch of -cosiness that I was to exchange with some regret for the raw damp -outside. - -On the table I noticed Colonel Terrise’s letter, which, in my haste, -I had forgotten to file. I thought of opening the cabinet again. But -no, that would take too much time. Not knowing what else to do with -the letter, I folded it and slipped it into the inside pocket of my -waistcoat.... That is why I can see it now! - -In the courtyard of Headquarters a hostler was currying the -adjutant-general’s mare. He spat out the stub of his cigar and saluted -me. In the west, a dim outline of the sun was visible through a thin -place in the clouds. A tree near-by was dripping with great drops of -moisture. The swinging of the outer gate rang a bell in the sentinel’s -box. I remember that a dog, sleeping inside, raised his head lazily and -looked up. - -Beside the curbing on the street, the Admiral’s auto was standing, its -sixty horse-power motor purring softly but powerfully. I opened the -side door and stepped in.... - -We were off! - - - - -III - - -At the corner of Rue Revel and the Place de la Liberté we skidded as -the chauffeur turned sharply to avoid a child playing just off the -sidewalk. - -We slowed down along the Boulevard de Strasbourg on account of crowded -traffic. I was shaken up as we stopped short under the Porte Nôtre Dame -to prevent collision with a truck. - -We sped along through the Faubourg de Saint-Jean-du-Var between two -rows of tall narrow houses propped one against the other. Every three -quarters of a mile we passed a trolley car. Some workmen were repairing -the road under the railroad bridge. They had to jump to get out of our -way; but a train passing overhead drowned the curses they sent after us. - -It had stopped raining; but the road was still wet and slippery. The -gray sky seemed to reach down and touch the roofs of dark tiling. Not -a ray of sunshine brightened the landscape, depressing under the best -conditions, but ghastly now under that mournful light. - -We reached the outskirts of the settled region. One straight unbroken -line of mud, the road reached out into the foggy heath. Here now to -the left the foot-hills of the Faron were rising one above the other. I -leaned out over the running board to get a good look at the top of the -mountain. A thick bank of fog was hiding it from view. That was bad! -The Grand Cap was higher still. I might have some trouble in groping -my way along, and I might easily take the wrong trail. Yes, that was -something to think about.... Though it worried me only for an instant. - -The village of Valette, the first town outside Toulon in the direction -of Nice! We were making forty miles an hour. Children scampered this -way and that to get off the road ahead of us, screaming at the top of -their voices. I looked at my watch. It was twenty-six minutes past -three. I pulled the wind shield down and nudged the chauffeur with my -elbow. - -“We can speed her up, now, eh, till we get to the bad road?” - -“Yes, Captain.” - -The auto lunged ahead at a fifty-mile clip. The macadam lay straight -and level ahead of us. Here was the hamlet of La Garde, perched on -its hill-top around its dilapidated castle. The train of thought was -quite involuntary--but these ruins brought back to my memory a woman’s -face--the face of Madeleine, Madeleine de ... I almost betrayed her -name ... whom I had met just a year before in those self-same ruins. - -The old walls stood out with their battlements cut clean against the -darkening sky. The plain below was a naked, leprous tangle of stupid -olive-trees.... But that day, I had crossed the courtyard of the -castle; and, I remembered, behind the tower I had spied the slender, -agile form of a woman. She was a sight-seer, probably, resting for a -moment on the top step of the stairway leading to the old postern. My -heels clacked on the pavement, and she looked around my way--a dazzling -vision of greenish golden hair, with eyes of emerald. - -Madeleine.... How endlessly, limitlessly far away all those days now -seem! But they are so remotely past for me, alone. That woman is still -alive ... still young ... still beautiful. Indeed it were indiscreet -to give even the four syllables of her name. But there are so many -Madeleines in the world--Madeleines even with hair of greenish gold and -emerald eyes! - -Still at fifty miles an hour we swept into and through the village of -Farlède. A mile or two ahead the first houses of Solliès-Pont were -coming into view. - -I looked at my watch. Three thirty-nine! At three forty, to a second, -we reached the turning where a road makes off from Solliès-Pont to -Aiguiers and thence toward the Grand Cap. My orderly was waiting there, -holding my horse playfully by the nose. We stopped so short that I -struck hard against the wind-shield with my chest. - -A moment later I was in the saddle. - -Some women of the village sat looking at me with interest from their -door-steps. They thought the speed of my arrival and the suddenness -of my departure were a bit suspicious. I remember hearing one of them -remark in a shrill Provençal dialect: - -“Anyhow it’s not the kind of weather for a dress parade ... no girls -are out!” - -I believe those were the last words I heard that day ... that day, -which was the last day of my life, really.... - - - - -IV - - -I took the Aiguiers road. The going was good--not too slippery, not -too hard. My horse was trotting cheerfully along, at an easy swinging -canter. - -He was a fine animal and I loved him--a perfect Arles thoroughbred, -high in the withers, short in the cropper, with a fine spread of neck -and shoulders. A courageous fellow, too, and so good-natured! I had -picked him out at my leisure and just to my taste, during a turn of -duty at the ministry in Paris. There you have facilities for such -things that officers in garrison never dream of.... I called him -_Siegfried_. We had come to know each other very well; and, in all -our intimacy as comrades, I never discovered a defect in him worth -mentioning. - -Siegfried took me to Aiguiers without stopping once for breath. -Aiguiers is a little cluster of houses backed up against one of the -last foot-hills of the Maurras chain. Beyond there, the road began to -get more difficult. It ran along a hillside above a ravine cut deep by -the Gapeau. There were sharp turns conforming to the twists in the bed -of the little torrent, where the water mirrored gray with the pallor -of the leaden clouds. - -It now began to rain again, in huge drops that made visible circles in -the silent pools of the stream. I suggested a gallop to Siegfried. Away -off to the right, the bell-tower of Solliès-Toucas pierced a clump of -cherry trees. Then the road turned sharp to the left hiding the distant -village from view. Now there was nothing ahead but a deserted country, -on which the sky was raining in a thick, dispiriting drizzle. - -Halfway up a steep fold in the ground, Siegfried slowed down to a walk. -The other side was a more gradual slope, the inner rim of the great -bowl of Valaury--a sort of crater, half filled, and perhaps two miles -in diameter. Now the Grand Cap, hitherto concealed by the Maurras -ridge, was in plain view. It came forward, as it were, out of the rain, -sullenly dominating all the smaller hills around it. But its peaks were -quite invisible, lost in the ceiling of clouds. It was nothing but a -truncated cone, a huge pillar propping up the leaden architecture of -mist and sky above it. Stray flecks of fog were wandering here and -there along its sides, drifting slowly down to the break between the -heath and the farm lands. For a second time the danger of going forward -into that thick and sticky gloom occurred to me. Even if I found the -trail, it might be hard, if not impossible, to keep to it.... But, for -the moment, the floor of the basin was clear and the path before me -broad and level. A word to Siegfried and he joyfully resumed his gallop. - -Madeleine had often gone with me on early morning rides. There in the -pine groves, which drape the Points of Cépet and Sicie in gorgeous -green, we would trot along side by side inhaling the cool, resinous -air. The memory came to me at just this moment; for the evening breeze -was rising and I had breathed it deeply in. It felt damp and musty to -my lungs, polluted with a strange odor of rotting leaves and oozing -ground. I straightened up in my saddle for a deeper breath, a keener -sense, of the uncanny smell. Yes, it was the same as before--and the -queer notion came to me that it was the breath of the mountain, close, -cadaverous, nauseous. A creeping, disagreeable chill ran over me! - -Siegfried, meanwhile, was galloping on; but in a moment or two I reined -him in. We were well across the bowl, and the other slope, steep and -slippery, was before us. At the top of a knoll four huts were gathered -in jumbled array. No one seemed to be living in them, but a dog came -out and sniffed at Siegfried’s heels, without, however, barking. - -We came to a fork in the trail. I stopped to consult my military map -and get my bearings. Straight in front of me, the Grand Cap blocked -the horizon with a formidable chaos of precipitous rocks. Its first -foothills were perhaps a mile and a half ahead. Now this was East; -so North would be on my left hand. I studied the map for a while. -It was not so very clear, but I did make out the fork where I then -was standing and the two paths between which I had to choose. So -far as I could see, they both led up to the battery; the one to the -right, by way of the old convent of Saint Hubert and the village -of Morière-la-Tourne; the one to the left, through the hamlet of -Morière-les-Vignes and Morière itself. I decided to take the latter -route. - -Had I selected the other, Adventure doubtless would have missed me! - -As I went on again, I thought I could make out a sort of pinkish cast -to the clouds heaped up along the mountain. I was headed west now. That -radiance must be, therefore, a shaft from the setting sun making its -way through the bank of mist and fog. Before long it would be pitch -dark. Instinctively, I looked back to the eastward, better to gauge the -approach of night; and frank uneasiness came over me as I thought of -the long distance still to go. Darkness, indeed, had already settled -on the plains. It was climbing the heights of Solliès, engulfing -the basin of Valaury, and striding rapidly, stealthily, along up the -mountain trail behind me. Now it was passing us, reaching the dangerous -slopes of the mountain far ahead. The path was barely perceptible, and -Siegfried kept slipping alarmingly. - -For the first time, I clearly realized that my mission involved far -greater risks that an uncomfortable night of wandering out in the cold -and rain. - - - - -V - - -It must have been somewhere on the northernmost spur of the Maurras -range that I lost my way. It was not yet night, exactly, but it was -far from broad daylight. The trail seemed to come to an end in a -tangled clump of bushes, that looked like all the other underbrush on -the solitary heath. Siegfried went courageously in, however, slipping -about, but shrewdly feeling the ground with a forefoot before he rested -his weight upon it. I relied mostly on his instinct to determine what -was path and what was heather. Unfortunately I had forgotten that at -the northern tip of the ridge the Tourris trail makes off to the left -from the route to the Grand Cap. I should have remembered this, I -suppose; for the Tourris trail makes a well-known tramp from Toulon--up -to the famous Col de la Mort de Gauthier. Strangely significant name! - -My horse turned off on that trail, a fact of which I was not at once -aware, because I had not even noticed the fork when we came to it. - -If the path hitherto had been bad, it now became positively dangerous. -The ground was rough, broken by boulders and ledges and with deep -ravines and rain-courses. We had left the rolling knolls about the -basin of Valaury and were skirting the first rocky escarpments of -the mountains. Siegfried went down on his knees a number of times. -Meanwhile long streamers of cloud kept reaching down from the ceiling -of mist above us, a ceiling that was closer and closer to our heads as -we reached the higher land. Eventually we found ourselves in a sort of -transparent, almost luminous, haze, which I knew was the forerunner -of the bank of thick fog I had been watching as it drifted along some -thirty feet above our heads. - -“Provence always was a dirty hole!” I swore, as I well remember. - -But at just this moment, the trail, if trail it could be called, took -a sharp descent. Now we should have been going up-grade all along, and -this sudden drop surprised me. Nothing of the kind had been indicated -on my chart. I thought for a moment of consulting the map again, but -the annoyance of unfolding the unwieldy paper and of studying in such -wretched light all that maze of ditches and indentations deterred me. -Besides, the drop soon came to an end and we were going uphill again, -across a sort of hollow thickly overgrown with brush. The path was now -a thing of the past decidedly. We were in a thicket of cat-briar which -scratched Siegfried’s belly and sides and cut my hands as I tried to -keep the nettles off my own face. I could not get a good look at the -ground, so thick was the undergrowth, but I observed that Siegfried was -advancing with greater and greater reluctance. That much was evident. -He did not like this going blindly into a territory where he scented -danger. - -Now there was another sharp drop followed by a third up-grade. - -This convinced me that I was certainly off the road. I had been -crossing a sort of saddle with three humps in line. No such ground -figured on the trail to the Grand Cap. I thought I would keep on, -however, to the top of the next rise. From there, perhaps, I could get -a look around. - -And it turned out as I had hoped. - -From the top of the grade ahead, I could see a broad plain shut in -on all sides by mountains. These were lost in the distance; but even -in that heavy weather their outlines were characteristic enough. -This massive barrier to the West could be nothing but the Faron--the -“Sleeping Dog” as it is sometimes called from its unusual contour. Over -here was the Coudon, just as surely; there was no mistaking its eastern -spur, sharp-pointed like the prow of a vessel cutting into the plain. -Where was I then? There could be no doubt. I had made the summit of -“Walter’s Death” itself! So then, I must hurry back, and make as good -time as possible! I must try to find the fork where I had gone astray -and take the trail that went out to the right from there. Time was an -important matter. I might still have a half hour left before complete -nightfall. - -Siegfried was loathe to plunge back into the maze of cat-briar from -which we had just so painfully emerged. His nose had been scratched in -a number of places. I pressed my knees into his sides to intimate that -speed was a consideration. Pluckily he went back down the incline, and -at the bottom, indeed, he broke into a trot. - -And he trotted on--but not for long. - -Just before we were reaching the second grade, I suddenly felt my -saddle give way beneath me. I fell, and so did Siegfried. I remember -the rough scratch of the brambles as I shot through them and the thud -with which I struck on a stone. I lay stunned for the fraction of a -minute; then I jumped to my feet, bleeding, bruised, torn, but unhurt, -all in all. Not so with Siegfried! I knelt beside my poor, poor horse. -His left forefoot had caught in a crevice between two stones, and his -leg had snapped like a pipe-stem at the ankle. Never again would -Siegfried take me on my morning gallop! Never would he leave that fatal -gully into which he had gone so much against his will! - -I wept. - -We men of the cavalry think more of our horses than we do of our -friends and of our lovers. I wept! But then, in a sort of reaction to -cold brutality, I drew my revolver, pressed the muzzle into Siegfried’s -ear, closed my eyes, and fired. The noble body trembled for a brief -second; then it lay limp and relaxed under that shroud of bush and -cat-briar. - -Coldly, mechanically, I returned my pistol to its place. Then I walked -away, up toward the top of the second hill, where I sat down on the -first stone I came to. - -A quarter of an hour must have passed before I came really to myself -and thought of considering the plight in which I found myself. - -It was not an enviable one! Here I was, on foot, well off any beaten -trail, virtually lost in the most lonesome waste of the mountains of -Provence. I had passed a deserted hut some four miles back on the road. -The battery on the Cap must be fully seven or eight miles further on -beyond the fork. And my duty it was to get there regardless of my -helplessness in that impenetrable thicket, from which twilight was -rapidly fading now, yielding to black night. - - - - -VI - - -Again I beg of you who read me.... Believe! Believe! Believe! - -I was seated on a stone, to one side of what I took for the path. My -eyes turned down toward the hollow from which I had just come--the -place where the body of my horse was lying. Then I looked in the other -direction, over toward the first hump of the double saddle of three -hills. I was intending to rise and start out on my way again. It was my -duty.... I was in honor bound to make the summit of the Grand Cap, find -the battery, deliver my dispatch. - -Suddenly, on the hill-top--the first one--it could not have been more -than a hundred yards away, I perceived a human form, standing out in -dark profile against the still livid sky. I say it was a human figure. -It was that of a woman, and she was coming toward me at a rapid pace. - -In joyous surprise I sprang to my feet. Certainly this was the last -thing on earth I could have hoped for in such a place and at such an -hour. Even in daytime it is rare to find a peasant, a wood-chopper, or -a hunter in the neighborhood of the _Mort de Gauthier_! There are no -trees worth cutting on those barren mountain sides. There are no fruits -nor berries, nor even game. Yet here on this cold, rainy, foggy night -I was meeting a woman--the only woman, as I was willing to bet, who -had been along that trail in a month’s time. Somebody from Valaury or -Morière, probably, hurrying to get home by nightfall. She would be well -acquainted with the region, doubtless, and would be only too glad to -set me right about the trails. - -I took two or three steps in her direction, observing, however, that -she would pass right in front of me, in any case! How fast she was -coming, too! How easily she managed all that rough uneven ground! - -She was now some twenty yards away. And I stopped in utter stupefaction! - -She was not a peasant girl, by any means. That dress! It was of a -fashionable cut, such as a society woman of distinction might wear. An -afternoon otter cloak, edged with ermine, in the latest style; a large -loosely hanging muff, of ermine also; a turban hat with plumes, the -latter lying flat and pasted to the crown by the rain and mist. She -had no umbrella and no heavier coat. There was nothing about her that -seemed probable in that wilderness. I glanced in panic around me to be -sure I was indeed in the foothills of those mountains and not in the -winter-garden of some fashionable hotel on the Blue Coast; that it was -the same desert in which I had lost my way, and that it was a cold, -raw, rainy night of December. - -I could scarcely breathe now, and a cold chill began to run up and down -my back. - -Was it not an apparition? - -Perhaps, but no ordinary apparition at any rate! Here was no -impalpable, supernatural body. For I could hear the crunching of her -feet on the leaves, a slight squeak in her shoes, and the silken rustle -of her garments as they brushed against the brambles. - -The woman came up to me, passed me, barely grazing my body. She was -looking fixedly ahead, without stopping, without turning her eyes this -way or that. I had first a front view of her features, then another in -profile. I recognized her! It was she! - -“Madeleine!” - -The cry came from me involuntarily, a cry of terror absolute: - -“Madeleine!” - -The woman seemed not to hear, just as she had seemed not to see. She -walked rapidly past and away down the trail into the underbrush of the -hollow. - - - - -VII - - -Madeleine, Madeleine de.... - -But no. I must not write her name! - -I had met her the year before--that would be year before last, the -year 1907. It was the month of May, I believe, but of that I cannot be -sure. It seems so long, long ago, such a frightfully long, long, time -ago! My memory is faltering like a waning candle flame flickering above -its last drop of molten wax, sputtering with bursts of blue and yellow -light as it is about to die out! - -So then, the month of May, in the year 1907.... At this moment, a -clearer flash of my memory comes--I see everything as vividly as I -lived it then. - -It was in the courtyard of the castle at La Garde. I had strolled up -the winding path to the ancient ruins; and behind the tower of the old -donjon, I found ... Madeleine sitting on the last step of the stairway -leading up to the postern. She turned at the sound of my footsteps and -she blushed. That blush told me I had intruded on a very personal, a -very intimate, reverie. At our feet stretched the leprous plain and -beyond the southern limit of the plain, the sea. A radiant sky, not -a trace of vapor veiling the glare of the naked sun! The ugly plain -caught fire from the rain of light, became beautiful for a moment. It -was one of those golden days, when the chest can scarcely contain the -exultant throbbing of a drunken heart! - -When my eyes fell on the greenish golden hair of Madeleine, my heart -began to throb intoxicated. When her emerald eyes fell on me, my bosom -heaved with an inner, ecstatic joy. - -Later we knew that that instant had been the beginning of our love; for -Madeleine confessed to me that a deep mysterious thrill had moved her -also, at sight of my own enthralling emotion.... And the incredible -horror of it all! That was not quite two years ago. And this hollow bag -of crackling bones was I, I, a young, strong, hopeful man, loved and in -love! Less than two years ago! - -Sometime later: a _fiesta_ at a sumptuous country house, looking down -on the sea! Precipitous promontories, into which the maritime fir -trees shot their roots and hung out horizontally above the foaming -surf! Paths winding in and out among the trees--and lanterns, lanterns -everywhere, shedding a soft and mellow light about the groves! - -There I saw Madeleine a second time! - -An evening gown of cloth-of-silver, cut low over splendid shoulders; -and my eyes lingered on them with imperious desire! - -We met by a balustrade hanging out over the sea. The subdued murmur -of the breakers softened the echo of our voices. In the distance the -wail of violins! Other couples walking to and fro on the path behind -us! A man and woman came up to our terrace, broke the silence of our -communion, went away again! - -We talked of indifferent things--the small change of conversation, -withholding words of deeper import. We sat there for a long time. One -by one the lanterns burned themselves out. A red oval moon came up out -of the sea, reached out along the water in the outline of a glistening, -elongated cypress tree. The violins fell silent. - -We walked back toward the villa. - -Madeleine rested a cold hand on my arm. A sudden exaltation came over -me. That woman whom I had so passionately loved under the hot sunglow -of an afternoon was now at my side. We were alone in that pine grove, -alone under that moonlight! I threw an arm about her shoulders, drew -her toward me, and pressed my lips to her lips in a kiss she did not -avoid. - -This was less than two years ago! It is Hell to remember it now! - - - - -VIII - - -Madeleine was a vivacious creature. Her graceful, subtle, intelligent -beauty was not coarsened by the ruddy vitality of her features and the -warmth of passion evident in the Southern blood that raced through her -blue veins. I must not linger on these impressions, however; they are -of interest only to me. I am not writing a diary of my inner life! I am -not writing my memoirs! This is a testament, in which I bequeath to the -generations after me a Secret which it behooves all men and women, my -brothers and sisters, to know. It were better, perhaps, to abbreviate -my story, suppress everything not pertinent to that Secret. But I must -convince the sceptical. The voice of Truth must be felt in every word I -say. I must show myself to be really the man I pretend to be: Charles -André Narcy, captain of cavalry, Distinguished Service Cross, detailed -to Staff Headquarters, born in Lyons, April 27th, 1876, died at Toulon, -December 21, 1908 (or January 22, 1909). That I am this person I can -prove only by this story. What desperation! Only by this story! I must -convince you by the detailed fullness of my account. And in this -sense, everything, everything, has a bearing on the Secret. - -Now I must say that Madeleine was a beautiful, vivacious creature, -plump with the healthy vigor of her Provençal race. And as I took her -in my arms for the first time, I noted what a firm, solid, _heavy_ -person she was. - -Later, when once I took her in my arms again and playfully lifted her -from her feet, she seemed to me much _lighter_, much _lighter_! - -Madeleine de X.... What horror! If only I could give her name! Then you -would know! And she would confirm my story! However ... honor impels -me at this point to evade a little, to falsify a number of dates, and -places, and details. You must get the meaning of what I say; but what -does it matter if I write “June” instead of “October,” or “Tamaris” -instead of “Hyères,” “taxicab” instead of “Peuchot.” I must be careful, -all the more because from moment to moment the flame of my memory -is weakening, trembling, threatening to go out, reviving again only -after minutes of anguish! The flame of my memory, and the flame of my -intelligence, also! If I am not on my guard, some word, blighting to a -lady’s honor, may escape me! - -She was the only daughter of a rich man! He was a hard, sour, -ill-tempered fellow. During winter seasons he lived in a decrepit -castle lost in the chalk dunes between Toulon and Aubagne. There he -kept aloof from the world, receiving no visitors and making no calls -himself. One of those domestic tragedies, as laughable in the eyes of -society as they are torturing to the hearts they tear, had separated -him from his wife some twelve or fifteen years before. The old folks -in Toulon, Nice, Marseilles, used to refer amusedly to the story, -which they considered a most savory scandal. I never had an appetite -for such things. I am unable to tell exactly why that man and that -woman separated! I was never a friend of either of them. I saw him -occasionally, in the old days, at our officers’ balls. His wife I used -to meet from time to time at various resorts along the Riviera. She had -a luxurious villa at La Turbie and another at Beaulieu. Part of the -year she lived on her own properties; another part in Paris; usually -she spent two or three months with Madeleine in Toulon, for there her -daughter married and settled permanently. - -In the summer months, Madeleine lived in a cottage of her own on Cépet -Point, where the peninsula juts out into the roadstead and is always -exposed to a cool breeze. Inspections often took me to the batteries in -that neighborhood, and I had occasion for many a delightful promenade -in the groves and forests of Cépet and Sicie. I would ride up on -horseback with an orderly, who came on the horse that Madeleine was to -ride. We kept a side-saddle for her in the sentry box at one of the -customs’ houses.... If you want details, there you have plenty of them. -However.... - -I have figured it out: It was in the month of May, of the year 1907, -that I met Madeleine for the first time at the old castle at La Garde; -it was in the month of June of the same year that I encountered her for -the second time at the _fiesta_; it was two or three weeks after that -when I first took her in my arms and lifted her from her feet. - -And, she was a heavy person, robust, solid, well-built, but _heavy_, -_heavy_! - -Some two months later, when we were playing on a beach, it occurred -to me to take her in my arms and lift her again. I turned all my -muscle to the task and prepared for the strain I so well remembered. -To my surprise she was _light_, as _light_ as a feather, strangely, -surprisingly _light_! I carried her about in my arms without effort. -And she had been such a _heavy_ person! - - - - -IX - - -The dying flame of my memory burns up here into a brighter light. I -remember the following with a strange, besetting vividness. - -As Madeleine rose from the sand some straws and bits of earth clung to -her skirt, and I brushed them off. Under the trees that bordered the -shore, our horses were browsing at some leaves, and I still can hear -the crumpling sound as they chewed them. To get back into the saddle, -Madeleine rested a foot in my hand; and again I had that sensation of -her extraordinary _lightness_. I looked up at her in some alarm. - -As we rode along, I finally asked concernedly: - -“My dear, have you been quite well these days past?” - -She seemed surprised at the question: - -“I?” - -“Why yes, you! You seemed rather tired, I thought!” - -She opened her handbag, produced a beauty-box and looked into the tiny -mirror that was on its cover. Then she laughed: - -“What can you be dreaming of, silly! You quite frightened me! But my -skin is as rosy as a milkmaid’s!” - -That was true. The exhilaration of the drive had brought the ruddiest -glow to her cheeks. She brushed them over with her powder puff, -however. I might well have accepted the explanation, but a feeling of -uneasiness came over me. Might there not be strange diseases that eat -out the vitality of a person without changing appearances of perfect -health? Certain fevers bring rosiness and not pallor to the features! - -I had not seen Madeleine for nearly a week just previous. She usually -told me all she did. Perhaps she had been tiring herself in some way or -other: - -“What have you been doing, love, since I saw you Tuesday?” - -“Since Tuesday?” she repeated with some hesitation. - -“Ho!” said I, “What a memory! Yes, since Tuesday, to be sure!” - -“Oh, yes!... It would be easier to remember if there were anything in -particular,” she replied. “I have done nothing at all, stupid! Oh yes, -that’s so! I did go into town once! That was Thursday!” - -“And without telling me you were to be there, where I could have seen -you?” - -She turned toward me and stared, with a certain perplexity, as one -looks on discovering in the mind a thought, or a memory, one had -never dreamed of finding there. She repeated my exclamation with an -interrogative inflection: - -“Without letting you know?” - -She looked dreamily down over the mane of her horse. Then she resumed. - -“That’s true! I didn’t let you know!” - -And she blushed in the most evident perplexity and confusion. I was -quite amused; and I went on: - -“And I suppose you had a date with somebody ... somebody whose company -was far more alluring than that of your old friend perhaps!...” - -She passed a hand across her forehead, as though to collect her -thoughts; once, twice she did this. And I noticed that where her four -fingers pressed upon her marble skin, four ruddy spots appeared. - -“Did I see someone?” she asked. “Whom did I see?” - -She asked the question quite innocently in a sort of dreamy reverie. I -raised my voice in mock severity, the way one calls a child to order: - -“‘Whom did I see!’ How should I know, dearie, whom you saw? I was -asking you?” - -She started imperceptibly, and then quite changing tone and manner, she -resumed: - -“Oh, I made a mistake ... Thursday! I didn’t go into town, Thursday! It -was Tuesday, and I took the train ... for Beaulieu!” - -“I see ... so your mother is at Beaulieu again. You paid her a visit?” - -“Nonsense! Mother is at Aix! This is September, you see!” - -“Why Beaulieu, then?” - -“Why Beaulieu?” - -Again she seemed to have lapsed into a dream. As she answered, her lips -quivered and each word came out with an effort that was noticeable. - -“Because ... why yes ... I had some errands to do there.... I went to -Beaulieu.... In fact ... see for yourself ...!” - -She dropped the reins and began looking through the little bag that was -hanging from her wrist. - -“See ... here is my ticket ...!” she added triumphantly. - -I was quite puzzled, less at the fact of her visit to Beaulieu than at -her whole manner. And my astonishment was not relieved when I observed -that the ticket had been punched but once. - -“You got on the train--that is evident! But how do you happen to have -the ticket, anyway? How did you get through the gate without giving it -up?” - -Her eyes turned toward me vacantly, wide open, almost bulging: - -“Why, I.... Yes.... How do I know? Of course not! I didn’t give it up. -I suppose the gateman failed to ask me for it....” - -And her brow knit into a slight wrinkle that seemed to mark a strange -and intense mental concentration. A second later she seemed to give up, -and she confessed: - -“Listen, darling ... I think I had better tell you.... It’s all so -absurd.... I’m really quite ashamed. But I think you ought to know. -Well ... see here ... I simply don’t know why I went to Beaulieu -Tuesday. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, to call me there ... -at least, nothing that I can remember right now.... Nor can I remember -having done anything in particular when I got there.... I left Tuesday -morning and I came back Wednesday night.... And I was all tired out -when I reached home.... There you have the whole story....” - -I was so astounded at this incredible tale that I pulled my horse up -short. - -“The whole story! That’s absurd, my dear! You must have left word at -home ... given some pretext....” - -“Of course ... but what it was I can’t remember!” - -“But your housekeeper ... your maid ... your husband ... when you came -home, they must have asked you about the villa or something!” - -“Yes, my husband asked me if I had had a good trip and I answered that -I had!” - -“And the train ... the journey itself ... the station ... Beaulieu! -Where did you go, when you got out of the train?” - -“To ... to the villa, ... of course!” - -“Of course nothing! You don’t seem to be so sure!” - -“Oh, I’m sure ... sure enough! The trouble is, André ... I don’t know, -it all seems so vague and hazy in my mind ... and it’s funny ... the -harder I try to remember, the less I seem able to.... Oh, I’m ill, ill, -André! Here ... here!” - -And one of her pink fingers pointed to the vertical wrinklet between -her eyebrows. As I sat there looking at her fixedly, searchingly, she -burst suddenly into convulsive sobs. I reined my horse to her side, put -my arm about her shoulders, and kissed her tears away. - - - - -X - - -For I loved the girl! - -I make that confession here again, absurd, ridiculous, grimly ironical -though the declaration may seem. - -I loved her. This I must say so that all of you ... men and women ... -will understand, and believe! - -I loved her. Notice: I met her on a sunny afternoon in May; and again -on a moonlight night in June; and I found her beautiful; and I told -her so.... To you cynics it may seem strange, incredible, to call that -love! I can see you smiling! - -But--all of you--look around among your memories, try to remember! You -have all met your mistresses for the first time at some time or other. -Before that, you were not in love. You began with simple curiosity; and -your first kiss was a kiss of playfulness--“Once will do no harm!” And -perhaps often it was the first and the last kiss. - -But more often the first kiss gave you a longing for the second. The -flirtation became passion, and the passion devotion. “Once!” “Again!” -“And again!” And, finally, “Forever!” “For all our lives!” - -Oh, yes, I know, I know! It was all a dream, and people cannot dream -forever. The flesh is weak, and the spirit less enduring than the -flesh. You wearied of each other! Forever became a year, six months, -six weeks! Love, indifference, infidelity, estrangement, oblivion! Oh -yes, I know, I know! But what of that? It was honestly that you loved -each other! In good faith you swore: “I must have you with me forever!” -In good faith you promised to love each other and cherish each other -and cleave unto each other! And truly would you have laid down your -lives that your mistresses might never die.... - -Smile then, if you wish, when I say that I loved her! - - - - -XI - - -So then, it was twilight, just after sunset on a raw, foggy, rainy -day, the 21st of December, 1908--my last day of life. And around me -was the hill of the strangely significant name: _Le col de la Mort de -Gauthier!_ A cry of terror had escaped me: - -“Madeleine!” - -It was she--Madeleine, the girl I loved, alone, afoot, on that deserted -heath, on that raw, foggy, rainy, wintry evening--Madeleine, hurrying -along that solitary trail through the sweet-fern and the cat-briar, in -her afternoon costume, as she would dress for a tea at a fashionable -hotel ... and twenty miles from home! - -“Madeleine!” I called. And she seemed not to hear me, and not to see -me; but hurried on, on, on, rapidly, with unerring step, over that -rough and broken and rain-soaked ground. - -My heart stopped beating. For ten, fifteen, twenty seconds I stood -there paralyzed, rooted to the trail. Then I came to myself; and in a -mad dash down the incline, I went off in pursuit of her. - -Ahead of me I could see her figure already ascending the slope of the -third knoll. She moved easily, rapidly, experiencing no difficulty from -the matted underbrush and cat-briar. She was following the trail. But -at the top of the hill she turned--to the eastward, with her back to -Toulon, that is. There a thick curtain of night seemed to have fallen -before the taller underbrush. I saw her skirt as it vanished across the -line of darkness into shrubbery that reached above her head. A second -later I caught a glimpse of her ermine collar farther in, and then once -more and then for a third time. - -I was running with all the headlong speed I could muster. My foot -caught in a snarl of cat-briar. I plunged forward, scraping across a -flat stone. But I barely touched the ground. I was on my feet in an -instant. “Madeleine! Madeleine!” I called. - -I thought I caught sight of her ermine collar again as she hurried -across a clearing. Then she was gone. The wet moss was thin above the -solid ledging of the knoll. It slipped under my feet, on the brink -of a ditch such as that which had cost Siegfried his life. I fell a -second time. Again I was on my feet. And now, against the sky over the -hill-top ahead of me, profiled on the leaden but much darker clouds, -I saw the same mysterious figure I had seen at first--save that now it -was of hazier, more indistinct outline. - -“Madeleine! Madeleine!” I shouted desperately. And I dashed on. - -Step by step the figure sank behind the crest of the hill. When I -reached the place, I found one of her footprints in the mud on the edge -of a stone. But she had disappeared completely. The soft moss preserved -no record of her passage. Before me lay the silent, deserted slope of -the Col de la Mort de Gauthier; to the right the escarpments of the -Maurras range; to my left the approaches to the Grand Cap. And no signs -of any human being! - -In anguished desperation I tore out into the underbrush, on which night -had definitely fallen. I was determined to overtake the fugitive, get -to the bottom of this prodigious mystery. I ran and ran, all my heart -bent on finding the slightest trace of her ... all my heart and all my -bewildered mind. I mounted great boulders with one bound, and was over -them in another. I went forward springing from rock to rock, falling at -times, turning my ankles, forcing thickets of briars by sheer weight -of impact, tearing my clothes, scratching my face and hands, but -running, running, running. I thought I saw a light off to the left. I -turned in that direction, and again ran on. I must have spent hours -in this fruitless, aimless, despairing search. I remember that finally -I sank to the ground, breathless, exhausted, utterly unable to move. I -don’t know where I fell. I know simply that I lay there, insensible, -corpse-like, dead; and, as happens when one had gone beyond his -physical and spiritual resources, a deep, dreamless, annihilating sleep -came over me. - - - - -XII - - -How long I had been sleeping there I do not know. But suddenly a -curious, though well-known sensation drew me from my slumber--the -sense of a strange presence near me, and of a gaze fixed upon me. -I was lying on one side, with my forehead resting on my bent arm. -Evidently then I could not see; but the emanation of that presence and -the weight of that gaze impressed me at one and the same time, as a -veritable blow striking me on the back of the head. The experience was -not new to me. Often in a sound sleep have I thus divined the approach -of a living being--though never with such intensity as this. I had -the consciousness that the person who was thus powerfully exerting -his influence upon me could be like no other human being I had ever -seen. And I, who at that time--how unutterably distant in the past -it seems!--was a young, a vigorous, a courageous man, instead of -sitting up at once, and facing my visitant, lay there as I was, for -some moments, with my forehead resting on my arm, pretending not to be -awake, and listening, listening. - -Through my half-opened eyelids, I could see perhaps a square foot of -earth and moss in the area encircled by my arm. That earth and that -moss were lighted by a pale, trembling, yellowish glow. I understood -that someone was waving a light above my head. - -At last I did sit up and with a start, as though I had just awakened. -And I rose to my feet, drawing back a step in bewilderment. - -A man was standing before me, a very very aged man; as I remarked from -the long, broad, glistening, snow-white beard that covered his chest -and abdomen. That much I could see in spite of the glare from a dark -lantern which he was holding with the spotlight up-turned into my face. -However, his voice had no huskiness when he addressed me. It was deep -and solemn, but without a sign of trembling or of faintness--on the -contrary, it seemed resonant with virility and vigor. I was somewhat -taken aback, besides, with the curt abruptness with which he questioned -me: - -“What are you doing here, Monsieur?” - -That was not the greeting I had been expecting; and in view of the -obvious plight I was in, I found it quite discourteous. But the man was -at least three times my age, I judged, and I answered as politely as I -could: - -“As you see, Sir, I am off the road and quite lost, I fear.” - -He kept the spotlight playing on my features, and I observed that his -two piercing, extraordinarily luminous eyes were studying me critically. - -“Lost, eh? And here! How did you get here, Sir? And where were you -going?” - -I was now frankly irritated at these irrelevancies; so much so, -indeed, that I failed to note the incongruity of such formal and -correct language in the mouth of what must apparently have been a -charcoal-burner of the mountains. - -Drily I exclaimed: - -“I came from Toulon by way of Solliès-Pont headed for the battery on -the Grand Cap. I missed the trail somewhere near the Col de la Mort de -Gauthier. There my horse fell and broke his leg; and I got lost trying -to reach the paths up the Cap, cross-country.” - -This version of my experiences seemed moderately to satisfy the old -man. He took the light away from my eyes and swept the bushes and rocks -about us with it. It was, in truth, an appallingly wild locality. In my -mad race through the darkness I had reached a jumbled region of rocks -and ravines where my presence might well astonish anybody. But I had -just as good a right to wonder. How should he happen to be there, too? - -“And you, Sir, what were you doing away off here?” - -He shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the top of an escarpment that -towered on my left. - -“I saw you from up there!” he said. - -And he fell silent, as did I. - -No longer pestered with the glare in my eyes, I could examine my -strange companion at more advantage. He was an old man, no doubt of -that, an extremely old man, as his snow-white beard, his wrinkled, -withered skin, his lean, tenuous hands attested. But he was a -marvellously robust and wiry old fellow. There was no droop to his -shoulders. He held his head erect. His arms were well knit at the -joints and he seemed lithe and agile on his legs. In view of his whole -bearing, which suggested strength, energy, initiative, I gathered that -the cane on which he was leaning he carried not for support but as a -weapon. - -I, a soldier in my early thirties, felt helpless in the presence of -that powerful octogenarian. Instinctively my hand went to the automatic -in my hip-pocket, where only one of the eight bullets was dead--the one -that had put poor Siegfried out of his agony. However, I felt ashamed, -almost at once, of such stupid and unreasonable fear of the man. I -again addressed him, and this time with a deferential and somewhat -effusive politeness: - -“I have not thanked you, Sir, as yet. Do, please, excuse such rudeness. -I appreciate your generous kindness in going to so much trouble in my -behalf. I am sure you have saved my life by coming to my rescue down -that perilous cliff. Please accept my deepest thanks. I am Captain -André Narcy, of the staff of Vice-Admiral de Fierce ...!” - -I stopped, expecting that a name would be volunteered in exchange for -mine. But the old man did not introduce himself, though he did listen -to what I was saying with the closest attention. I began again: - -“I was, I am, the bearer of a dispatch to the corporal on guard at -the Grand Cap battery. It was in an effort to execute that mission, -unfortunately still unperformed, that I lost my way, wandered aimlessly -about for a time, and finally lay down here to sleep when I was quite -all in. And now, Sir, might I impose upon your kindness further? Could -you not direct me to the Grand Cap trail, the good one, the one I was -looking for and could not manage to find myself?” - -Meanwhile I was studying the old man carefully. There was nothing -unusual about his dress. His clothes were, to a button approximately, -those one might expect to find in such weather on a shepherd, a hunter, -a wood-chopper of those mountain regions; heavy hobnailed shoes and -thick leggings, corduroy trousers and coat, a plain flannel shirt. -But it was just at this point that the contrast between his costume -and the cultivated intonation of his language first impressed me. The -observation caused me another thrill of fear. In my confusion I caught -his reply but indistinctly: - -“The good road, Monsieur? In truth, you are on the bad road, the worst -road, I might even say!” - -I suppressed my uneasiness as best I could: - -“Where am I, exactly? Am I far from the battery?” - -“Very, very far!” - -“Well, but ... what do you call this place?” - -“I doubt if it has a name! At any rate, you will not find it on your -chart!” - -“Oh, you must be joking. I can’t be so very far off the road! I must be -somewhere between the Mort de Gauthier and the Grand Cap! Call it eight -miles to the fort ... and you will be putting it high!” - -The fist that was clenched about the cane rose and fell in a gesture of -ironic helplessness: - -“Well, call it eight miles, Monsieur. How could you do eight miles in a -dark like this?” - -Again he swept the spotlight around that chaotic devil’s dump of -boulders. To tell the truth, I cringed with involuntary terror, though -I did manage to pull myself together again: - -“Do them I must, in any event. The dispatch of which I have the honor -to be bearer is of the first importance. You will be so kind, Sir, -as to suggest the direction of the battery--and I will be infinitely -obliged.” - -The point of the cane swung upward from the ground toward the steepest -of the precipices, the upper brink of which projected out into the -chasm in a menacing overhang. - -“It’s off in that direction,” said the old man. - -I bowed with some ceremony, determined to waste no further time: - -“Thank you, and good night, Sir!” - -Resolutely I advanced to the foot of the cliff, and climbed up to the -first indentation in the virtually perpendicular wall. But a sullen -rage came over me as I realized the impossibility of making the ascent: - -“Off in this direction, eh? But there are night hawks that seem to get -around all right--and with little loss of time!” - -I grumbled the words between my clenched teeth, addressing them to my -own angry self alone. The man was fully fifty feet away and could not -possibly have heard. Yet I suddenly felt the same pressure on the back -of my head and between my shoulders which had been the cause of my -awakening. The man was looking at me! That impact was the shock from -his piercing eyes! I turned sharply about, almost expecting an attack -from him. - -But he was standing just where I had left him, his eyes fixed upon me -with an expression in no sense hostile. Rather I seemed to catch a -smile of kindliness playing about his withered, wrinkly features. When -he now spoke, the same note of kindly benevolence was sensible in his -voice, and the abruptness noticeable in his first questions had also -softened measurably: - -“Monsieur,” said he, “I was loathe to venture a suggestion which you -had failed to invite and which, doubtless, you would be quite unwilling -to accept. Nevertheless ... I should be grievously at fault, were I to -let you run to certain death. I will give you an hour to break a leg, -or an arm, or your neck, in tumbling into one of these gorges. Suppose -you lay with a fractured skull at the foot of a wall of rock--your -message would not be delivered any the sooner, would it? Don’t be -impatient! Wait till daylight comes! And an early morning start will -bring you to the fort and, perhaps, in time. Try to get there now and -your dispatch, I assure you, will never reach its destination!” - -He stood there thinking for a moment and then he concluded pensively: -“A mountaineer as experienced as I am might possibly venture such a -thing. But at night, over rock that is forever breaking off under your -feet ...!” - -I don’t know why, at just that moment, my thoughts reverted to the -other encounter I had had a few hours earlier in that self-same -neighborhood. I closed my eyes to reconstruct in my mind the image of -Madeleine, deaf, mute, unconscious apparently, running that heath like -a somnambulist.... And for the third time, but on this occasion full in -the face, I felt the impact of the fluid energy which seemed to spurt -from the eyes that were fixed upon me. When I looked up again, the same -uncontrollable terror was in possession of me: the man was in truth -gazing at me--and that was all. An extravagant suspicion flitted across -my mind: that man, that curious old man--could he be listening to the -sound of my thoughts, as I could hear the sound of his words? - -At last he seemed willing to come to the point: - -“Consider, Monsieur! I live not far from here! Would you not accept my -hospitality until dawn? The rain is beginning again. It will be wet -and cold on the mountains, and it is hardly midnight.” - -I looked around in astonishment into the wall of darkness about us. He -lived near-by? A house, in that appalling solitude? - -He understood my perplexity. - -“Quite so!” he said, answering my unexpressed thought. “Quite so! Just -a step or two! This way, Monsieur, if you please!” - -His voice had now a soft, caressing gentleness; though I sensed an -imperious order in his words--a command I could only obey. - -When he turned to go, I followed him. - - - - -XIII - - -Easily, lightly, rapidly, over the jumbled rocks and through the -tangled underbrush, the hoary old man made his way, beating his cane -to right and left to open a path before us. I kept carefully to his -foot-prints, really exerting myself, however, to maintain his rate of -progress. - -Fully a quarter of an hour it must have been that we walked thus in -file one behind the other. Then my guide stopped of a sudden, turned -toward me, and said: - -“Monsieur, you will be careful!” - -His cane pointed to some obstacle, or to some danger, just to my right. -Cautiously I stepped nearer, and a creeping chill ran over me: we were -on the brink of a precipice, its edges so thoroughly masked with fern -that a step six inches off the path would have hurled me into a void. I -could not have guessed the nearness of such peril. Feeling the ground -in front of me with my toe, I leaned over and peered down into the -abyss. Along its bottom a mountain torrent ran, black water rushing -over polished white stones. The sheer face of the gorge offered not a -projection to foot or hand. - -“Keep well to the left, Monsieur,” said the old man; and he strode on. - -The ground now took on a strange contour previously unknown to me. The -ditched, pockmarked, crevassed soil of the Mort de Gauthier where my -horse was lying, and the maze of gorges through which I had pursued -Madeleine, came to an end. We were now on a gently sloping table-land -broken in all directions by curious blocks of stone. The soil was -overgrown with brambles, juniper, and numerous other spiny shrubs. -The rocks sprang naked from the earth in abrupt faces cut apparently -to geometrical design, triangles, squares, polygons, as though -fashioned with human tools. On the one hand, none of their surfaces was -sufficiently smooth to warrant the assumption of deliberate working; -on the other there was too little irregularity in their structure and -disposition to allay wonder at such a strange caprice of Nature. As -a whole, indeed, they formed a veritable labyrinth, through which it -would have been difficult to pick one’s way even in broad daylight. The -old man went indifferently onward, nevertheless, not hesitating in the -least, and finding his path without effort through this entanglement of -scattered boulders. - -Again the topography changed. The monoliths became fewer in number; the -plateau had a perceptible down grade. The junipers, myrtles and mastics -grew stunted and less crowded, and the land was otherwise quite barren. - -If I describe this walk of ours in such detail, I do so in the hope -that some of you may be tempted to seek out in the neighborhood of my -misfortune, the house of which I am to speak. Its exact location I -cannot recall. I could not find it again for the life of me; nor could -I really identify it among other houses you might show me. It is, -nevertheless, the House of the Secret, though all I can say of it is -that, at last, we came to it. - -In the opaque wall of darkness ahead of us a tall black mass stood out -against the paler black of the night around it. First came a hedge of -tall cypress trees, the boundary of a private park, a hedge like the -thousands of other hedges one may find about the country villas of -Provence--the Provence that frizzles in summer sunshine. - -In the hedge was an iron gate, between the bars of which the old man -slipped a hand and turned some secret lock. The gate swung open. My -feet began to tread on a soft, thick sod, unmown. Brushing my head -I could feel low-hanging branches of cedars, pines and cork-trees. -Finally through the inky black of the grove the brick-stone front of a -house came into view. It was so dark under the matted interlacing of -branches along the walk, that I could not isolate a single distinctive -feature on the façade before me, except perhaps the stone stairway up -which I went to a door. There were just eight steps. I remember because -I counted them. One other detail: from the roof, and on my left as I -went in, an indistinct but tall, slender mass seemed to rise, a sort of -tower, or belfry.... Mark this item carefully.... It may help you! - -The door was of heavy oak, studded with iron nails. The knocker was a -hammer and an anvil, the latter with two points and set deep into the -thick panelling. - -As he raised the hammer, my companion turned to me, his eyes gleaming -with an eagerness I did not like. But his voice, soft, calm, caressing, -benevolent, once more relieved my fear, once more constrained me to -resist an impulse to stand on my guard like an animal at bay! - -“Monsieur,” he said, “I am sure you will forgive me for a slight -advertence: my father, who is about to open the door, is a very old -man, and his sleep must be respected; you will be good enough to make -as little noise inside as possible!” - -The metallic beat of the hammer upon the anvil strangely mingled in my -ears with the words I had just heard. It was something like an echo of -the stupor, which, at these strange phrases, struck me like a blow. So -this old fellow had a father, whom he referred to as an old man! If he -was eighty, more or less, how old would this parent be? - -Again the hammer fell upon the anvil in a double rapid stroke like the -ritualistic stamp of the fencer’s foot as the duel begins. And this -double stroke was followed by another, a single one, like the first. - -The door swung open. - - - - -XIV - - -The anteroom that now came into view was a spacious one, dimly lighted -by two candles. I could make out a series of frescos on the four walls -above the paneling, which was of some dark almost black wood, oak or -walnut, I should say. Except for the heads of two stags with antlers, -there were no ornamental furnishings. The doors, in some ancient style, -were so fashioned as to blend, when closed, with the sheathing. - -But one detail I did see with absolute distinctness the moment I -crossed the threshold. Standing in front of me, with his left hand -still on the latch which it had just opened, was an old man so like -in every particular to my guide that I turned, despite myself, to be -sure it was really a case of two different individuals and not of one -with an image reflected in a mirror. They had the same long, wide, -flowing snow-white beards; the same serious, motionless, mysterious -eyes. Yes, I turned and stared. Such complete identity was beyond -belief. But yet, they were really two men,--father and son,--the son -bowing with deference to the father. In fact, this demeanor on the part -of the person who had come through the heath with me was the means, -henceforth, by which I managed to distinguish the younger from the -older man; though both, to the eye, seemed equally full of years, not -to say centuries, ages; both equally robust, withal, equally erect of -carriage, equally muscular with the litheness of youth. - -I had stopped instinctively, eventually mustering presence of mind -enough to bow deeply to mine host, a greeting which he returned -politely but without pronouncing a word. His eyes, meanwhile, were -surveying me with the most searching fixity. After a time they turned -for the fraction of a second upon my escort, and I understood that they -carried a question, imperiously. - -“I took upon myself, Sir, the responsibility of bringing this gentleman -here. I found him lying out in the rain in the hapless state you see -him in. He had gone astray among the boulders at the outer end of the -labyrinth.” - -These sentences were uttered in a half-whisper, as though the speaker -were afraid of disturbing a household at slumber. - -The father did not answer for a space of time which I found a markedly -long one. Then he said: - -“Your conduct was quite proper, I believe, Sir.” - -And he too spoke in a half-whisper. - -These “Sirs” between father and son astonished me with their savor of -antique formality; and I was impelled thereby to glance at the costume -of this hoary gentleman who was thus addressing his offspring with the -ceremonious formulas of bygone feudal days. Nothing in particular! A -rustic outfit in corduroy, exactly like that of the “boy”; except that -the elder man wore old-fashioned knee-breeches with woolen stockings -and buckles at the knees. - -The son was meantime recounting my story to his parent with a fullness -that neglected no detail. - -“Monsieur is an officer,” said he. “His name is Narcy, Captain André -Narcy. He is the bearer of a sealed dispatch for the fort on the -Grand Cap, and this dispatch, a very urgent one so it seems, must be -delivered at the earliest possible moment. That is why I judged it -best to offer our hospitality to monsieur for the night: he must have -a good rest to be in condition for a hurried journey tomorrow morning, -when daylight will permit him to make the ascent without such a -distant wandering from his path as he fell into--for lack of a guiding -hand--tonight. For, without any doubt whatever, monsieur met not a -living soul along the trail to set him on the right road. And that, -without any doubt whatever, is the reason why monsieur strayed so very -very far from this Grand Cap where he was going.” - -The innuendos in this narrative did not fail to impress me. I scanned -the faces of the two men, one after the other, anxiously; but neither -carried the slightest expression. The father answered also in a tone -that was entirely normal, repeating word for word his earlier sentence -of approval: - -“Your conduct was quite proper, I believe, Sir.” - -I groped about in my mind for an appropriate phrase of thanks; but -before I hit upon one, mine host, pointing a finger at one of the -invisible doors in the paneling, remarked, still addressing his son: - -“It is evident that monsieur should be allowed to retire at once. Be so -good as to show him to his room, Sir! You will need a light.” - -I bowed in acknowledgement, without speaking. The son was already in -motion, leading the way with the same spotlight playing on the room -about us. Our first steps on the tiled floor raised a curious echo in -that all but unfurnished chamber, the four walls of which threw each -sound back upon us and seemed to prolong it with a briefly sustained -tremor. The spotlight chanced to cast a round, luminous circle upon one -of the frescos. As far as my hasty glimpse of it enabled me to judge, -it was a mythological subject in faded color and not over-stressed -design--a birth of Aphrodite from the sea, perhaps. - -My guide drew back, in succession, three long thick bolts, longer and -thicker than any bolts I could remember ever having seen. They secured -the door to which the elder of the two men had pointed. A closer view -of the wall revealed to me that beside this door there was another, -similarly disguised in the paneling and fastened in the same way. -Taken together, they might have been mistaken for the two wings of one -folding door, joining very badly, for that matter, despite their rugged -hinges; for a gap of a full inch was visible under each of the presumed -wings, leaving free play to draughts. - -These observations had scarcely flashed through my mind, when the old -man, the father, that is, who had been standing in the center of the -reception hall with his eyes glued upon me, advanced suddenly in my -direction, and his steps, light as they were, echoed about the room -as ours had done. I stopped and looked at him. With a gesture, and -speaking to me directly for the first time, he said: - -“Monsieur, I forgot to remind you that in our house, and not far indeed -from the quarters you will occupy, we have a case of sickness. Might I -request you, therefore, kindly to make as little noise as possible?” - -This was the second time I had been urged not to talk; but the pretext -had been different on each occasion.... - -And then something happened ... a very inconsiderable thing, which -gave me a distinct shiver of excitement. It was not so much myself who -trembled, but rather that submerged, unconscious being we each have -within us which watches while we slumber and ever has a memory and a -consciousness quite apart from our waking selves.... - -From under the other door--the door which had not been opened, -namely--a sudden draught of warm air came. It was cold, noticeably -cold, in the reception hall; but behind the closed door was a room -which they kept much better heated. Now that draught of warm air!... -As it passed through my nostrils, I became gradually aware of its -fragrance. It was sweet with a perfume which my conscious self did not -recognize, but which my submerged ego at once remembered--my submerged -ego only, indeed. That is why I had crossed the threshold of the open -door before I really understood.... - -Before I really understood, that is, what the closed door concealed.... - - - - -XV - - -Beyond the door that was open stretched a passageway, and at the end -of the passageway came another door. Once we were through the latter, -the spotlight of my escort fell upon a flight of stairs, six steps -high, as I counted. I noted also that the treads were of the same red -square tiles as the floor of the reception hall. Only the nosings were -of wood, a wood much worn from long service. At the top of the steps my -guide opened one last door. - -I now found myself in a very dark room, so dark, indeed, that I paused -just inside the threshold from fear of colliding with some piece of -furniture. The man, however, drew aside the top of his lantern and -from the flame within it began to light the three wicks of a massive -iron candlestick, a sort of tripod fashioned to represent three lances -supporting one another. - -The room brightened. I noted that it contained this candelabrum, one -chair, and one bed, the latter simple, home-made articles such as a -peasant might improvise for himself. - -“And I wish you a good night, Monsieur,” said my guide, with a bow. -“Please sleep quite at your ease. I shall have the honor of waking you -in time, myself.” - -“At sunrise?” said I. - -“At sunrise,” he answered, “or perhaps ... perhaps a moment or two -before sunrise....” - -That seemed to me a very natural thing to say, and I returned his -courtesy: - -“Good night, Monsieur!” - -He went away. I listened to his footsteps as they clacked on the tiles -of the six steps, and then on the pavement of the passage. Finally I -heard the door into the anteroom swing to, and, less to my surprise -than to my alarm, the great iron bolts slide back into their places: -the grating sound they made, however slight, was quite audible in the -absolute silence of the mansion. - -I sat down on the wicker chair at the foot of the plain pine bedstead. - -In sitting down I had intended to collect my thoughts if possible, -bring a little order into the chaos of impressions, suspicions and -fears that were whirling in my bewildered brain. But I had hardly -touched the seat, when an unexpected sensation put an end to my -reflections. - -I had cast my eyes about the four walls of the room where I now -was--four walls cheaply papered in a stock design of loud colors. -Again the miserable poverty of the furnishings had impressed me, with -the exception of the antique candlestick. The place, indeed, in its -present condition, had all the appearances of a spare room, roughly -fitted up with these few odd and ill-matched articles. I should not -have thought it strange had I detected there the close musty odor that -one always meets in apartments long unoccupied and rarely aired. - -But that was not the smell that came to my nostrils. Quite the contrary -in fact! The room was suddenly fragrant with a warm living perfume, a -perfume that now reminded me of the one I had vaguely perceived in the -draught from under the closed door of the anteroom. It was not the same -perfume, by any means, though it was of the same general kind, one of -those essences which float about every house where women are, combining -the most diverse aromas into a single fragrance that is the alluring -fragrance of feminine beauty. - -I brought all my senses to bear upon it. “Heliotrope,” I analyzed, ... -“and rose”! The isolation of these two essences seemed all at once to -sharpen my memory of the earlier perfume; the latter, unmistakably, had -been a lily of the valley. - -“_Muguet_,” I said aloud, “lily of the valley!” - -All a-quiver I leapt to my feet, terrified, stunned, but ferociously -determined. Of course! Of course! The two syllables of that French -word, _muguet_, had brought a flood of light into my clouded mind. Of -course! _Muguet!_ Her perfume! Madeleine! Madeleine! - -It is curious that in the overwhelming anguish that had now seized -upon me, an insignificant thought came to the surface of my seething -consciousness and restored all the coolness and self-control that I had -lost: “What an unconscionable ass I have been! Fool! Fool! Fool! Of -course! Of course! Why did I not get the point at the very first? Long -ago, long ago? After the very first suspicious words I heard from the -mouths of those two weird hosts of mine?... Fool of fools! Why did I -not recognize her perfume out there in the hall where I first perceived -it--before those three bolts were drawn upon me, leaving me a helpless -prisoner in this hole where I am caught like a rat in a trap? - -“Helpless, eh? Like a rat in a trap, eh? Not quite.” - -I was almost normally calm as I put a hand to my belt and drew my -revolver. Helpless, eh? There were eight cartridges in my automatic, -and I had used only one--the one that put poor Siegfried out of his -misery! “Seven left! Helpless? Not so helpless as all that? There must -be seven of them!” - -I snapped the lock on the hammer and opened the magazine. The seven -bullets were in place. I threw the barrel back into position and -released the lock again, testing the trigger lightly with my finger to -be sure the requisite free play was there. I put the pistol into my -coat pocket, with my right hand upon it. - -“At sunrise, eh? You were coming back at sunrise, old Methuselah? Do! I -shall be glad to see you!” - -I looked at my watch. Two o’clock! It was mid-winter time. The dawn -would be long in coming. - -I rose from the chair and stepped over to the bed. The sheets were -singularly delicate, the coverlets thick and downy. Another breath of -perfume floated past my nostrils.--I buried a fist in my hot, feverish -cheek.... That bed, so daintily prepared! It had been offered to me! -But for whom had it been made so cosy? Who slept there ordinarily? -And my thoughts flashed out through the walls and partitions of that -accursed mansion to another room, where there would be another bed and -in it a woman, sleeping! Madeleine, my Madeleine! - -The dart of horrified jealousy that ran through my heart was like the -thrust of a sharp, white-hot sword. Madeleine! There, in that other -chamber, at night! The victim of what unconscionable sorcery! The -plaything of what loathsome and unmentionable desires! - -But no--my calmer judgment soon concluded. Those men--demons, -perhaps--could not have been dastards in the thrall of lust! That -secret house could not be a House of Love! What was the mystery, then? -What? Oh, what? - -The three candles were flickering at the three points of their tripod -of lances. The door! I looked at it. Here also the joinings yawned from -age. And that would doubtless be the case with the window. - -For there was a window in the room, the room that was really my prison. - -I stepped over to examine it, pressing my forehead to the panes and -plunging my gaze into the outer blanket of darkness. - -Nothing! Nothing at all. An impenetrable pall of inky blackness came -right up against my eyes. A thick growth of ivy formed an outer curtain -over the window, weaving a fabric through and around the heavy iron -bars which guarded it. - -A prison! That was the very name for it! - -I heard footsteps moving softly along one of the partitions behind me. -I held my breath. Soon silence returned, complete death-like silence. - -I went back to the bed and lay down upon it, waiting, ready for -anything. I had my clothes and my boots on. My hand clutched the butt -of the automatic in my pocket. - -I waited, my eyes glued upon the door, my ears straining to catch the -slightest sound. - -I waited! - - - - -XVI - - -Little by little my brain had regained its lucidity and my heart its -normal beat. Now, outstretched on the bed, with my boots and clothes -on, and my hand upon my pistol, I was waiting, waiting. I noted the -fact: the hand upon my pistol had not a tremor: it was ready to -kill. My Adventure was approaching its dénouement. I would soon have -to fight a battle, where I must needs come off victorious. These -considerations were like a potent cordial to my overstrained nerves. -So cool and collected indeed had I become that I was now prepared to -take everything as a matter of course. I could, that is, restrain my -astonishment, or at least postpone any expression of it. Madeleine, -in that mysterious house, at that time of night! No, there was no -explaining it, with any explanation at all convincing. But, for the -moment, no explanation was necessary, or in point. We would come to -that later--after the combat--which must end in my victory. Meantime, -all conjecture would be superfluous. - -The three candles were still burning on their tripod of the three -crossed lances. But they were getting short. I took out my watch and -looked at it. Half past two! The candles would almost certainly fail -to outlast the night. And to shoot accurately you must see, clearly -see, your target! I rose from the bed, walked over to the candlestick -and put out two of the three wicks burning. Then I went back to my bed -again. - -But I had my boots on. My spurs had scraped noisily on the tiling of -the floor; and, since the latter had no carpet, my heels had clacked -loudly as I walked. And that was not the worst of it. As my weight -came down upon the edge of the bed, the spring gave a long, piercing, -metallic squeak, which, in case anyone at all were guarding me, had a -fine chance of being heard, in that sepulchral silence reigning, two -or three partitions away. This reflection had had just time to settle -clearly in my mind, when, and almost as an echo to the creaking of the -spring, the lock in the door of my room creaked in turn. - -With a bound I was off the bed; and I had to restrain myself in order -not to level my automatic upon the door and let fly the moment it -opened. - -I managed to control that impulse. Besides there came a knock, a -discreet, a courteous knock, on the panel. The door swung open slowly, -and in the doorway I saw one of my hosts, I could not decide whether -the father or the son, but at any rate one of the two old men with the -long, broad, glistening, snow-white beards. He was standing there quite -motionless, not presuming to come in. His eyes, in truth, had swept -me with a glance from head to foot; and there I was, with my clothes -and my boots on, in the unmistakable posture of a man who had not been -in bed at all, who had resisted slumber, and kept on watch, nervous, -suspicious, mistrustful, ready for any emergency that might arise. I -caught a rapid flash in those scrutinizing eyes, a lightning-like flare -that vanished on the instant. And again a thought that I had had before -flitted across my straining consciousness: those penetrating eyes--did -they not have, perchance, the power of going deeper than my forehead, -piercing through to the secret thoughts harbored naked in my brain? - -And then the old man spoke: - -“Monsieur has not been sleeping. Truly, we suspected as much. In view -of that, why should monsieur pass such a dull time alone here in this -chamber? Would monsieur not like to join us in the room below? I think -that would be far better--for monsieur, as well as for us.” - -I had regained my composure once more; and I answered with decision: - -“I will accept your invitation, Sir!” - -And I advanced upon him. - -But he drew back, as though to let me pass in front of him. This I -refused to do. He may have guessed what was in my mind, for he did not -insist. He led the way in front of me, with the words: - -“As you will, Monsieur, ... just to show you the way!...” - -On reaching the reception hall, I stopped in front of the door where -I had caught the breath of Madeleine’s perfume. But it was not toward -it--not as yet toward it--that I was guided. - -In fact, the old man went straight across the anteroom, and, seeing me -motionless in front of the same door, politely called: - -“This way, if Monsieur will be so kind!” - -Another door, concealed as all the others in the paneling, now opened, -not, however, into a corridor, but directly into a large, in fact, a -very very large room, which was thus cut off from the reception hall by -the thickness of one partition. - -My eyes winced before the glare of some fifty or sixty candles -distributed about the room in holders along the walls and of two -massive lamps, one to either side of the fire-place. The latter was a -majestic hearth in ancient style with a huge embossed and sculptured -hood spacious enough, I thought, to accommodate a goodly number of -whole oxen. - -Seated in an armchair and facing me as I came in was the old father--so -at least I decided; but next to him, now, was a third aged man whom I -had not seen as yet, and whom I took for a much younger person than -the other two, though he also was far from young. They both bowed in -greeting as I entered. - -I stopped near enough to the door to prevent its being closed. The man -to whom I had not been introduced motioned toward an empty chair. I -declined it with a shake of my head; whereupon he rose: - -“As you will,” said he, “I understand your feeling!” - -His voice was in a very queer falsetto. - -I saw him push his chair back and come forward a step in my direction. -His two aged companions took up positions to the right and left of him, -as though he were their chief. Chief indeed he proved to be. - -There was a moment’s silence: then this man resumed: - -“Monsieur le capitaine, I must offer you my apologies. It may seem -inconsiderate of me to have disturbed you in your slumbers. But it may -be you were not having a very quiet repose. In that case I may count on -your forgiveness!...” - -He broke off, and pointed with a gesture first to the one and then to -the other of his two companions. - -“And pray forgive them, too,” he added. “They are well-meaning boys, on -the whole, though their manners leave something to be desired. In this -they are entitled to be excused, perhaps, in view of the place and the -times we are living in and our aloofness from most men of the world. -Certainly it would be difficult to explain away all their breaches of -good form to a stickler on the niceties of conduct or to some one of -over-delicate susceptibilities. But such, fortunately, you prove not to -be, and I must congratulate you on your forbearance. Nevertheless, I -cannot overlook the first and grossest of the impertinences inflicted -on you. When you were so kind as to volunteer your name, this young man -here neglected to give his name to you. I have reproved him severely -for this oversight, and I solicit your indulgence in his behalf. He is -the Vicomte Antoine, at your service, Sir; and here is Count François, -his father, if you please. And I--you will pardon me--am the Marquis -Gaspard, father of Count François and grandfather to Vicomte Antoine. -There you have us all; and now, I trust, you will not impose upon me -the hardship of remaining longer standing. Let us be comfortable! Will -you not please take a chair!” - -The door behind me was wide open still, as I satisfied myself with a -glance in that direction. Moreover, the strange address I had been -listening to had a curiously persuasive quality. I sat down as had been -suggested, and the three of them did likewise. - -“Dear me, dear me,” said the Marquis Gaspard as he eased himself in his -cushions. “You have left the door wide open, and a terrible draught is -coming into the room!” - -Hastily the Vicomte Antoine arose; but he was not so quick as I. I was -at the door in a second and closed it with my own hands, making sure, -meanwhile, that a simple latch was all that fastened it. - -“Thanks, a thousand thanks!” exclaimed the marquis. “But, Monsieur le -capitaine, why go to such extremes of courtesy? My grandson could have -closed it just as well!” - -I was already in my seat again, and the vicomte in his. There was a -period of silence, in which my eyes had time to flit about the room. -A couple of logs were glowing in the ancient fire-place. The candles -about the walls were gleaming brightly. The beams in the ceiling were -darkened from the smoke of the open fire during many years. The easy -chairs I found quite beautiful in their upholstery of old brocade. - -And there were my three hosts! - -An uncontrollable astonishment now came over me, something far in -excess of any of the surprises I had experienced heretofore. Those -two more than centenarians in their long snow-white beards were -respectively son and grandson of the third, who seemed to be, by far, -the youngest of the three! His face, smooth shaven, had not the trace -of a wrinkle. There was no suggestion of sunkenness about his eyes; -just as his falsetto voice came from high in his throat without a -tremor and without hesitation. And yet--such the situation seemed to -be! He was indeed the ancestor par excellence, the veritable patriarch, -and of an age that beggared the full many years of the fathers of -Abraham! - -But of what could I be really sure? - -The silence continued unbroken. Now we were in our chairs, the three -of them facing me. They looked for all the world like a tribunal, with -the marquis figuring as chief justice, and his son and grandson as -associates. And I, what was I in that picture? Suspect? Defendant? A -culprit awaiting sentence? - -The silence lasted an unutterably long time. The three pairs of eyes -fixed upon me eventually got on my nerves. To conceal my annoyance and -self consciousness, I turned my head and again examined the vast hall. -It was a sort of living-room--low-studded--and not a parlor, nor a -lounge. The woodwork on the chairs was gilded, and the upholstery, as -I had before observed, was of old brocade. The plastering was painted -simply, without hangings, mirrors, or pictures, of any kind. Meagre, -also, the furnishings: in addition to our four arm-chairs, two divans -in the same style (an impeccable Louis XV), and two seats of fantastic -form--_dormeuses_, one might have called them--with complicated -rests for arms and feet and head, and so deep that they might have -smothered rather than accommodated the human form. I further noticed -an old-fashioned clock and a chest, on opposite sides of the room, and -then a kind of horse, or easel, such as painters use to incline their -canvases according to the fall of light. - -I was studying this latter object, when the Marquis Gaspard coughed, -and then sneezed noisily. My eyes came back to him. He was holding -a snuff box in his hand and had just taken a pinch from it. He -returned the object to his pocket, and then began, evidently by way of -introduction: - -“Monsieur le capitaine, I am eager, before all else, to convince you of -our good will in your regard, a good will that is absolute and which -will prove, I trust, efficient. Changing times have done us wrong, to -tell the truth; for to look at us, I suppose, one would take us rather -for brigands of the wild than for amiable, well-intentioned gentlemen. -And yet, we are not so bad as we seem, a fact of which you will, in the -end, become aware.” - -The old man fell silent, took out his snuff-box again, treated himself -to another pinch, and then sat thinking for a moment. - -“Monsieur,” he resumed at last, “I should dislike being put into the -position of matching wits with you. I prefer to rely on your honesty -and honor as a soldier of France. I put the question quite bluntly -therefore: Was it, or was it not, by pure chance, that you came, last -evening, so very very close to this residence of ours?” - -I did not have time to answer. He silenced me with a gesture and went -on: - -“Of course, I take a number of things for granted. You did not venture -into this retreat for the purpose merely of paying us a visit! Far from -that, monsieur! My vanity would not be crossed if I did not hear such -an extravagant avowal on your part. I am quite ready to admit that -before this evening our triple existence played a slight if any part -at all in your normal thoughts and preoccupations. I am right on that -point, am I not? Quite so! So much for that! - -“Nevertheless, it is not inconceivable that your present trespass on -our domains may be due to something more, a little something more, -than plain simple chance.... May I expatiate: monsieur le vicomte, -my grandson, found you some hours ago in an extraordinary place, to -say the least. You were on your way from the Mort de Gauthier to the -Grand Cap? Be it so! Heaven preserve me from doubting your assertion -in the slightest. And yet, and yet! The fact is that to reach the -point where the vicomte found you, you must have proceeded with your -back persistently and repeatedly turned upon your goal. The brush -and undergrowth on the mountains, I suppose, are by no means an easy -problem for the wayfarer. To find one’s way about therein requires -no little presence of mind. Permit me, nevertheless, to express my -great surprise that a gentleman of such talent as I perceive in you, a -gentleman trained in cartography as the members of your distinguished -profession are, should have gone so far, so very very far, astray, -and over such rough and trying ground! My honor, Monsieur! Must one -assume that some will-o’-the-wisp, running the heath to lure poor -travellers to destruction, may have caught you in its spell! I suggest -that hypothesis--one I am by no means loathe to accept. So I ask you, -Monsieur le capitaine: Was it such a wandering fay--an evil fairy of -the deadliest lineage--that brought you to our refuge?” - -He concluded, and fastened his eyes upon me. - -From the first syllable in his quaintly formal discourse, I had -foreseen the point at which he was ultimately to arrive. So I was not -by any means taken unawares. His address, besides, had been a long one, -and I had had plenty of time to make a supreme decision. When he came -to his will-o’-the-wisp, my mind was quite made up. Gently my hand -had made its way to my pocket and come to rest on my revolver. I had -withdrawn my left leg from beneath my chair and stiffened the muscles -of the calf. Ready to spring forward and mix in, I now looked up and -answered without a tremor: - -“Monsieur, will you not take your own choice? You have suggested -chance, foxfire, fairies. Have it as you will. I have no reply to make. -On the contrary I have a number of questions to put to you!” - -He did not bat an eyelash, nor did the men to the left and right of -him; but eventually a smile came to his lips and refused to fade as -time went on. I got a good grip on my automatic. - -“I have no intention,” I resumed, “of matching wits with you either! I -expect immediate frankness on your part; for you will find it to your -interest, I assure you, not to prevaricate by a syllable. Shall we then -come to the point without evasion? I ask you, monsieur: are you by any -chance acquainted with a young lady, Madame Madeleine de X....” - -I gave her name in full, of course. - -The Marquis Gaspard, still smiling and more blandly if anything, nodded -and waved his hand in emphasis of assent. - -“Very well,” said I. “I will go on. Monsieur, is it, or is it not, a -fact, that this lady is a prisoner, at this moment, in this house?” - -The hoary head was now slowly raised, while the same wide opened hand -sketched a gesture of perplexity. The smile puckered into something -expressive of incertitude. - -“A prisoner?” said he. “That is hardly the word, Monsieur. It is a fact -that the lady in question is, and at this moment as you say, honoring -us with her distinguished presence in this house. But if, as I can now -hardly doubt, you chanced to meet her on your way, you must have been -able to see for yourself, Monsieur, that she was coming alone and of -her own accord, without constraint from anyone, to visit us under this -roof where you wrongfully choose to call her a prisoner--as she is not, -Monsieur, my word of honor!” - -Whereupon, he settled back into his chair, and his ghoulish, ironical, -joyous face stood out more clearly against the bright brocade of the -cushions. - -He had outmanoeuvred me in the exchange, and for a second or two I was -disconcerted. Then, however, I regained the offensive. - -“As you will have it, Sir,” I said. “I was wrong, in my choice of -words: I confess my error. Madame de X.... is a free woman here; and, -accordingly, there is no reason in the world why I should not be -admitted to her presence at once, to offer her my respectful homage. -May I see her? I am one of her friends, the most intimate of her -friends, I might say.” - -The smiling, clean-shaven mouth relaxed into a broad laugh accentuated -with little explosions of mirth in that queer falsetto: - -“Oh, Monsieur le capitaine, you are telling us nothing we do not know, -believe me, Sir. And rather, pray excuse the generous liberty I am -taking in laughing at an affair such as yours and hers. I date from -very long ago; and in my day, we were not so particular about secrecy -in such matters. Let us pass on, pass on. I see that I have hurt -your feelings by my inopportune mirth. No offense, I assure you. Let -us forget that whole side of the subject. You ask to interview Madame -de X.... Nothing, in fact, would be easier; but unfortunately, Madame -de X.... was feeling very tired, and went to bed, not long ago. She -must now be in her first sleep; and I know you are far too much of a -gentleman to disturb a lady under such conditions--to mention only the -first of many obstacles to your satisfaction.” - -He was making fun of me; and my face burned hot with anger. - -“I insist,” said I, mastering my indignation. “I promise further not to -disturb Madame de X.... if her first sleep is as deep and peaceful as -you assert. But I insist on seeing her--and I have a right to, I should -say, a right which I am certain you will not dispute.” - -At last the smile faded from the Marquis Gaspard’s face. His eyes -settled upon me searchingly, as he replied in an earnest voice: - -“Monsieur le capitaine, you are, rest quite assured, in a position to -ask everything in this house, without finding anything denied you. Will -you follow me!” - -He arose, walked to the door, opened it, and stepped across the -reception hall. I followed in his footsteps in nervous astonishment. -The other two men also rose and came along behind me. - -“Monsieur,” said the marquis softly, “you are now able to understand, -I trust, why you were several times requested to make no noise in your -apartment, which is so close to this one....” - -I had guessed rightly, from the first. It was the room behind the -door with the three long thick bolts, from under which the perfume -so familiar to my nostrils had come--the fragrance of _muguet_, of -lilies-of-the-valley. And it was just such a room as I had imagined -later--a naked, sparsely furnished chamber like the one they had given -to me; and the same bed with fine sheets and silken coverlets. - -On that bed Madeleine was lying, her eyes closed, her lips white, her -cheeks a leaden gray. They had told me the truth, also. She was asleep, -deeply, too deeply, sunk in slumber, a strange, bloodless, icy slumber, -nearer to death, perhaps, than to life. - -“Monsieur will be mindful strictly of his promise,” cautioned the -Marquis Gaspard. “You have satisfied yourself that Madame is sleeping, -soundly sleeping. I may add that she is so greatly fatigued that the -shock of a sudden awakening might be fatal to her....” - -The words were uttered in a grave, solemn voice in striking contrast -with the bantering tone he had hitherto adopted. - -From the very depths of my being a cold, relentless anger rose, as a -hurricane of winter rises on an unsheltered plain. Drawing my pistol, I -turned sharply upon the man, my enemy, and, my finger upon the unlocked -trigger, I pressed the muzzle against his heart: “Peace!” I commanded, -“Not a word from any one of you, or I shoot this fellow like a dog! -Now, you speak up, you, Sir, you! And the truth, as you value your -life! This woman! What are you doing with her here?” - -I had my eyes fixed upon those of the old man under my pistol. - -And these began to glow, to glow, to glow! What was happening to me? -For a second I was blinded, dazzled, dazed. Then a sudden panic seized -on me. I felt my prey slipping from my clutches. With my last ounce -of will-power I pressed upon the trigger; but the weapon did not go -off. The eyes of my prisoner had fallen slowly, quietly, deliberately -from my eyes upon my hand. A vise-like grip fell upon my fingers, -paralyzing, bruising, crushing them. The automatic slipped from my -grasp and fell to the floor.... - -Then, in the same deep, solemn voice, coolly, calmly, as though nothing -whatever had occurred, the Marquis Gaspard answered my question: - -“What am I doing with this woman here? No query could be more natural, -more legitimate, I am sure, Monsieur. I shall consider it a privilege -to satisfy your curiosity. But perhaps Monsieur would prefer to return -whence we came, to avoid any disturbance of Madame, in her slumbers.” - -My two arms were hanging loose at my sides. And my two legs were free. -Nevertheless I felt bound hand and foot, unable to make the slightest -movement save such as my master, the Marquis Gaspard, commanded.... A -prisoner, body and soul, I obeyed in silence. I walked back toward the -room we had left a few moments before. As I stepped through the door -of Madeleine’s chamber, I experienced a bitter longing to give her one -more glance, one more, one more. - -But it was not vouchsafed me to turn my head. - - - - -XVII - - -“Monsieur le capitaine,” the Marquis Gaspard began, “you are in -a position to ask anything of us here, without its being denied -you--anything except one thing--but of this we shall speak later. For -the moment you have been good enough to question me in reference to -Madame de X.... and I should consider myself rude indeed, were I not to -answer. The explanation may be longer than you expect, I dare say. That -matters little! I am completely at your service; I am ready to satisfy -your every desire! Forgive me this preamble, which may seem long -extended. And forgive me also if I chance to bore you with a narrative -which also may seem irrelevant, but the necessity of which I am sure -you will recognize as we proceed.” - -He thought a moment. Then he drew his snuff-box, opened it, offered a -pinch to the man on his right and another to the man on his left, took -one himself, and finally continued: - -“Monsieur, I was born very far from here, in a little town in Germany. -It was in the year of Our Lord....” - -The old man stopped. Count François had leapt from his armchair and -extended a broad flat hand before his father as though begging that -latter to reveal no more. The Marquis Gaspard fell silent, in fact, for -as long as three seconds, in the meantime looking steadily at his son, -his lips perked into an expression of indulgent irony. - -“I declare!” said he, eventually, in his queer falsetto voice, “that -from you, Monsieur François, at your age! Will you never grow up, Sir? -Imagine! Do you not suppose that Monsieur le capitaine is already well -initiated, too well initiated, into the Secret? What matters it whether -he stop where he is now, or go on to learn the rest of it?” - -He turned toward me again and repeated: - -“Monsieur, I was born in a little town in Germany, as I had the honor -of informing you. It was at Eckernfoerde, not far from Schleswig, in -the year of Our Lord, One Thousand, Seven Hundred and Thirty Three! -1733! Yes, Monsieur! - -“Today is the twenty-second of December, 1908. Figure it up yourself. I -am one hundred and seventy-five years old! Don’t be too much surprised, -Monsieur. Such is the simple fact, and it will seem simpler still, as -I progress with my explanation. If we were more at leisure and your -curiosity should extend that far, it would be a great pleasure for me -to give you a detailed story of my life; not, of course, of my whole -life--that you would find a rambling, disconnected narrative, I am -sure--but the more interesting moments, my first fifty years, let us -say. That, however, would take us far afield, and the night, though a -winter’s one, would scarcely suffice for such a tale. Let us keep to -essentials, therefore. - -“My father was a gentleman, a soldier in the service of His Majesty -King Christian VI of Denmark. He had played a distinguished rôle in -the wars of the preceding reign; but his position was not brilliant at -the court of this Prince, who was so wholly engrossed with the gentler -arts of letters, science and society. All Europe, for that matter, was -enjoying a period of quiet; and my father had to make the best of the -situation, however hard it bore on him, a professional soldier. But -the peace was of short duration, as the event proved; and I was just -turning my seventh year when a new conflict broke out, with Austria, -Prussia, and France leading scores of those little kingdoms which -were forever fishing in the troubled waters of Continental politics. -However, Denmark was one of the few small states to keep her weapons -sheathed. - -“Under this disappointment my father chafed--refused to put up with -it, in fact. He decided to go abroad to live. - -“We moved first to Paris, then to Versailles, where Louis XV welcomed -us cordially. A brilliant career was opening before my father, whose -bravery in action soon attracted royal attention, when, on the tenth -of May, 1745, just as the famous battle of Fontenoy was developing -into a French triumph, an English bullet laid him low. To the victory -my parent’s gallantry had contributed not a little, and that, too, -under the very eyes of the King himself. The latter, anxious that such -distinguished service should not pass unrecognized, called me to his -presence, and there, on the battle field, elevated me to the rank of -royal page. - -“This, Monsieur, was the beginning of my real life as a man--a life, I -may add, that was for long carefree and joyous. I can still remember -the placid delights of those years which all France enjoyed under the -Treaty of 1747. At Court, especially, there was one round of festivals, -revelries and intrigues of love, wherein I played my part as well as -the next one; and I may even say that if today you see before you in -my person a hermit, a man, at least, inclined to solitude, the fact -must be attributed to the immense, the delicate felicity in which I -passed my early days, a happiness whose sheer perfection has disgusted -me forever with the banal pleasures which you people of this modern -age could offer me if I cared for them. But why arouse in you the -melancholy yearning for those golden days, which I feel? I will pass -on, and pray forgive me if I have dwelt too much upon them as it is. I -come, then, and tardily enough, to the main point. - -“I said, Monsieur, that after 1745, from the date, that is, of my -father’s death on the field of honor, I was a page at the Court of -Louis XV. In that capacity I was still serving five years later, in the -year 1750. Indeed, it was my honor and my pleasure as a royal page, -to escort the Maréchal de Belle Isle one day into the presence of His -Majesty; the marshall, in turn, leading by the hand a rather handsome -gentleman whose name was quite unknown to me. - -“‘Sire,’ the marshall began--(How his silky wig shone, as he made -obeissance! And to me how glorious his purple coat seemed, thrown up in -back by the studded scabbard of his sword!)--‘Sire, I have the honor to -present to your Majesty, as your Majesty deigned to command, Monsieur -le Comte de Saint Germain, who, beyond all dispute, is the most aged -gentleman of your kingdom.’ - -“My eyes, I remember, turned upon the count in question. And, quite -to the contrary of his introduction, he seemed to me a man in the -flower of youth. If he were a day older than thirty, there was not the -slightest reason in the world to suspect so. - -“It is surely not my place, Monsieur le capitaine, to play the -school-master for a man of your evident education. I am certain -you are familiar with all that our historians have said about that -extraordinary, that superhuman individual, known to successive -generations, as the Count of Saint Germain, the Marquis of Monferrat, -Count Bellamye, Signor Rotondo, Count Tzarogy, the Reverend Father -Aymar, and so on. No, it was rather out of a sense of filial regard -than out of any desire to enlighten you, that I forgot myself so far as -to recount the detailed story of my first and fortunate encounter with -this personage whom I was later to revere as father, mother, master and -friend, all in one. To be sure, the intimacy between him and me was not -the outcome of this first meeting only. In the ten years following, -between 1750 and 1760, that is, the Count of Saint Germain was one of -the most frequent guests at the Court of Versailles, and I continued as -gentleman-in-waiting to the King. - -“Thereafter intrigues and jealousies had their play, and the Count was -no longer welcome. Unable by that time to live apart from the company -of that distinguished genius, I determined to seek him out in his -banishment. For long my search was vain. Free Masonry, of which he was -the secret General and Grand Master, was keeping him in hiding--as I -later learned, in Moscow, where he was plotting a sort of revolution. -In despair at last of ever finding him, I abandoned my quest; and, -since now the thought of life in France had become intolerable to -me, I decided to return to my old Danish home, establish a peaceful -hearthfire there, and cultivate the memory of the prodigious friend -whom I had lost. - -“This I did. I went back to Eckernfoerde, to my ancestral mansion which -had not been occupied for fully twenty-four years. - -“It was now the year 1764. Denmark was still at peace, or virtually so. -One single army indeed was campaigning in the Duchy of Mecklenburg, -under the command of a young fellow, some twenty years of age, who gave -promise of a most brilliant career in arms--the Landgrave Charles of -Hesse-Cassel, I mean, whom King Christian VII was soon to nominate as -his Lieutenant-General. - -“The circumstance arose eventually whereby I was called upon to pay -homage to His Highness, during a visit which he made, in the interval -between two seasons in the field, to a palace of his at Eckernfoerde. -Imagine my delight, Monsieur, imagine my boundless joy, when I -discovered, seated on his Highness’s right hand and in the place of -honor and confidence, the man whom I had everywhere been looking for -and had given up for lost. The landgrave himself wept at sight of my -emotion. Saint Germain was then living under the name of Tzarogy, -dividing his time between the general, whom he was advising as privy -councilor, and divers other lords and gentlemen to whom he was lending -the assistance of his marvelous science. Prince Orlof, was among these, -I may mention, and His Highness, the Margrave Charles Alexander of -Anspach.... - -“My own disappointments, alas, were not yet at an end, however; for, -many times, I was still to be deprived of the society of this being who -was growing from hour to hour more precious and more necessary to me. -But finally my master ceased his wanderings. Prince Charles became, as -I said, lieutenant-general to the new king, Christian VII; but, though -war now broke out between Norway (a vassal state of ours) and Sweden, -the new marshall was frequently at leisure; and this he spent in secret -labors at which my master and I often assisted him. Fifteen years thus -passed, years as solemnly and earnestly happy as the days I had spent -in France had been wildly joyous. Then a horrible catastrophe came to -destroy this long and perfect bliss. I referred casually, some moments -ago, to the extreme youth my master had succeeded in preserving despite -his unmeasurable age. That youth now suddenly began to depart from him. - -“I noticed the change, without daring for a time to make mention of it -to him. But his health soon broke down to such a remarkable extent that -I could not endure my silence. One day I threw myself at the count’s -feet and begged him to be more attentive to his well-being, indeed to -make use of his own science in his own behalf. To my relief he took no -offense at my presumptuousness, and lifting me tenderly to my feet, he -said--in a deep sepulchral voice that froze my blood: - -“‘Gaspard, there are diseases against which the science to which you -advise appeal is of no avail. My wisdom is helpless, for example, -against a secret cancer of which my heart is bleeding: against a will I -have--a determination on my part--not to be well again.’ - -“So speaking, he opened before my eyes a bejewelled medallion which -he was wearing about his neck; and in it, fastened to the gold, I -perceived a ring of braided hair. - -“‘Gaspard,’ he continued, ‘I am dying! My mistake was in trying to -immortalize, not my maturer manhood, but my frivolous youth. Had I been -a wiser man I should have assured--by a wrinkle or two, at least, and -a few white hairs--this mortal envelop of mine against the shafts of -love; in which case it might surely have become eternal. Now, when you -have wholly acquired my Secret, profit by this mistake of mine, and, as -my heir and continuator, show yourself worthy of the inheritance!’ - -“A week later he passed away. To his friend, the landgrave, he -bequeathed his note-books, manuscripts, and talismans (all of which -were so much Greek to that well-meaning warrior). To me he left what he -called his ‘Secret.’ - -“Monsieur le capitaine, when I began this account of my life, it was -to the subject of this Secret, my legitimate heritage, that I intended -eventually to come. I have arrived at last. Again I crave your pardon -for my great prolixity. But without this long preamble I feared you -would not really understand. Now, however, there is no reason in the -world why I should not satisfy your curiosity, and, without falsehood, -reticence or evasion, answer your query as to what I, my son, and my -grandson here are doing with the girl you love, with Madame Madeleine -de X....” - - - - -XVIII - - -Once more, the Marquis Gaspard drew his snuff-box and opened it. But -this time he did not close it again. He held it wide open in the palm -of his hand without taking his pinch of snuff. - -“Monsieur,” he resumed, “I am far from being a philosopher. On -the subject of metaphysics I am quite as unpretentious as you. -Nevertheless, you and I know as much assuredly as any man in France -about the real nature of that undefinable thing called Life. I say -‘as much,’ though I might well say ‘as little’; for no one ever has -known, or ever will know, anything really about Life. At the very most -we are at liberty to guess at a few of the phenomena which accompany -the existence of living beings on earth and which disappear on the -advent of Death. My master, the Count of Saint Germain, never deluded -himself on this point. Once he discovered the path we may follow with -security, he contented himself with not departing from it by an inch, -though the path itself he traversed in Seven League Boots, one might -say, burning a very long candle at both ends! In his case, there -was not, as commonplace minds have stupidly imagined, any trace of -sorcery or magic. With him it was a matter of solid science, acquired -by patient experiment--a matter of mentality, of genius, if you -will--nothing more, nothing less, than that. The Secret, the Truth -which he discovered, and which he bequeathed to me when he had tired -of using it, the Secret of Long Life, the Secret of Never Dying--is a -purely natural, a purely scientific affair. You yourself can be judge, -Monsieur le capitaine. - -“Not that I shall pretend to explain, to demonstrate, this Secret to -you with the rigor mathematicians and physicists require in their -sciences. My master might have presumed so much. For myself, I feel -quite too ignorant even to venture on such a task. But, after all, what -does that matter? All you want to know is what your friend, Madame -Madeleine de X...., has to do with it. Am I not right, Monsieur? - -“Very well, Sir! To the point! We, Monsieur le capitaine, you, I, all -of us, considered as living beings, are compounds of elements, so many -bundles of atoms, or cells, which latter come to life in us, live their -lives, and die, to be replaced, in the end, by other similar elements -engendered of those before them. Trustworthy scientists have declared -that the bodies we have today do not contain a single particle of the -substances of which they were composed ten years ago. This incessant -transformation, this constant renewal of ourselves, constitutes one of -the distinctive traits of the Life to which I referred a moment since. - -“This reconstruction, however, does not take place in the same way in -every creature, nor in the same way at all periods in one individual -existence. When a child grows, for example, each old atom is replaced -by several new ones. In old age, on the contrary, many atoms disappear -while only a few successors take their places. Death occurs when the -departing elements are no longer replaced at all. - -“Monsieur le capitaine, this was the special fact which arrested my -master’s attention, and meditation on which revealed to him in the -end the Secret I have the honor to be discussing with you--instead of -sleeping, as I might normally and reasonably be doing, in some coffin -already rotted from the years. And this Secret.... - -“I will reveal it to you, Sir, and without flinching, dangerous as that -may be. You, Monsieur, must I again remind you, are in a position to -ask anything of us and always be contented--anything save one thing, -of course; but this one thing is not the Secret. So then.... - -“If we grow old, or if we die, the reason is that our atoms, our cells, -have lost the power to engender others, the others which are essential -to the prolongation of life--the reason is that our aged bodies have -become inept at a task which our youthful constitutions perform at -play, as it were, without effort. Well then, why not pass on a burden -too heavy for our years to some other body, whose youth and vigor will -do double duty--for itself and us--and quite willingly besides, not -even perceiving the extra labor imposed upon it? - -“I am not sure than any objection, any reasonable objection, can be -raised to that. My master thought not, at least; and I am of his -opinion. So are my son and my grandson here. And I take it, personal -presumptuousness quite aside, that when it is a case of unanimity among -four competent judges, all old men, and consequently the wiser from an -experience not unusual but quite unprecedented, our opinion should be -respected. I venture to hope, Monsieur le capitaine, that you yourself -will share it.... - -“Madame Madeleine de X...., your friend, is here of her own free will, -or virtually of her own free will, for the purpose of coöperating, -generously, in our profit--in the task, that is, of rejuvenating our -aged substances which, without her, could not recover of themselves....” - -In the pale hand of the Marquis Gaspard the snuff-box cover snapped, -with a sharp though barely audible click; and he returned it to his -pocket, this time without remembering to take his pinch of snuff. - - - - -XIX - - -I was still seated facing my three hosts, and nothing seemed changed -between us. To all appearances, I was quite at liberty: no shackles, no -bonds, impeded me; I was free to get up, walk around, make a fight of -it. In reality an irresistible force, a crushing weight, had settled on -my members. I was paralyzed in the most complete, the most atrocious -sense of the word. To save my life, to save my soul, to save the woman -I loved, I should not, even at the command of God himself, have been -able to lift a finger or wink an eyelid. - -The Marquis Gaspard finished his bloodcurdling reply without -interruption from me. I listened on in silence; my face failing quite -to show the unspeakable horror convulsing through my inner self. - -Now this man--this beast--of prey was silent for a moment. At times -in the placid atmosphere of that room I had the creeping sensation of -wings whirring about me--the weird ghoulish flight of vampires. - -Suddenly the Marquis Gaspard spoke up anew: - -“Monsieur le capitaine, I am inclined to suppose that now your -curiosity is satisfied; but should there remain some shadow of doubt in -your mind still, should there be any point I have not yet made entirely -clear, please consider me at your disposal quite. In my opinion--I know -it is but a humble one--it were best all around that we understand each -other perfectly, leaving nothing, absolutely nothing, in the dark. You -will be patient, therefore, if I supplement my recent explanation with -a few observations in detail--and kindly pardon me, if I seem to do -all the talking. For that matter, I do not insist. You may be bored -insufferably for instance. In that event you are quite at liberty -to make your escape--you might go to bed again, for one thing. The -narrative I have just completed seemed to me essential to an accurate -understanding of the facts. On the other hand, what I was minded to -tell you now is not wholly indispensable. I should not be in the least -offended if you thought best not to hear it.... - -“To proceed then, Madame Madeleine de X...., a friend of yours, is -here, as you now know, to work, with the best of her soul and body, -for our benefit; and specifically for the purpose of renewing, of -rejuvenating, the physical substance of us three. Now I know how -you love this lady; and I am quite ready to assume that you would be -interested in hearing more of the marvelous things she does for us, and -for which we are indeed her debtors. I should feel remiss in concealing -anything on such a delicate matter. - -“Monsieur le capitaine, I shall not inflict upon you a review I might -make--dull, dry, wearisome it would almost certainly be--of the efforts -men--and by men, I mean physicians more particularly--have made to -transfuse a life that is young into bodies that are old. I use the word -‘transfuse,’ my mind reverting to a crude experiment resorted to from -time to time (with no success worth mentioning) and which consists in a -simple transfer of blood from a strong man to a weaker one. Folderol! -Balderdash! Charlatanry! What else could you expect from doctors of -medicine, so called? Among donkeys your physician is the prize ass! And -I cannot understand how your age, Monsieur le capitaine, the Twentieth -Century of Our Lord’s era, can take so seriously these fakirs who, in -my time, I assure you, were appraised at a far juster worth. - -“That, however, is beside the point. I need not remind you--you must -surely have guessed as much yourself--that my master made no use of -medical devices in arriving at his astonishing results. His pride it -was to be a chemist, not to say an alchemist, as he would have said. He -was no mere horse-doctor. He was no mere barber. His discerning eye was -fixed on the mysterious depths of the test-tube, not on the point of a -brutal butcher-knife. And he discovered.... - -“Just when, I do not know. It is well authenticated that the Count -de Saint Germain lived several centuries, a fact explainable only on -the assumption that the Secret of Long Life must be of very ancient -origin. I stress this fact, for the glory of my master is but enhanced -thereby. Our Secret, indeed, has a number of curious analogies with the -electric or magnetic appliances the invention of which is the glory -of the present age. Just consider then how far ahead of his time this -great man was! But in speaking of electricity I am not, believe me, -thinking of the primitive tricks that were known even to men of old. -No, my master did not waste his time in drawing sparks from a cat’s -tail nor in making bull-frogs dance to music. But he did manipulate -the philosopher’s stone most handily, and he was able to dispense with -mercury when he chose to plate with silver or with gold. I remember -that many a time, just in play one might say, he would amuse us by -transferring the metal of one object to the surface of another object -of a different metal; and this he did by means of electric batteries, -of which, precisely, he was an independent inventor; though he used -other processes still, quite as far from being supernatural as they -were kindred to the marvelous. But he did not stop at so little, for -these things were mere child’s play to him. I saw him, with my own -eyes, one day, take a branch from a rose-bush with two roses on it -and one bud, not to mention the leaves, and transport the whole in -some mysterious way through a thick partition, in which the doors -were sealed, into an adjoining room. Little by little the rose-branch -wasted away before our eyes and as gradually reassembled in another -place. That experiment impressed me, I can tell you, Sir; though the -Count assured me there was nothing very remarkable about it, since -any substance could be disintegrated for a certain short length of -time into incredibly minute atoms which made light of passing through -such coarsely textured obstacles as wooden doors, or brick and plaster -walls. ‘The time will come,’ he used to say, ‘when _matter_ and -_movement_, which, moreover, are identical, can be _exteriorized_, much -as smells, sounds, or light are normally at present.’ - -“It would be scant flattery to your acumen, Monsieur le capitaine, were -I now to fear you had not guessed the general method of our Secret. -Just as a mass of pure gold, suitably moistened in an appropriate -liquid and acted upon by a current from an electric battery of an -appropriate force, may be broken up and distributed toward a mass of -plain iron so placed as to be receptive of such action, so a living -creature, likewise placed in a favorable environment and subjected to -a magnetic energy of proper strength, gives up its cells in certain -numbers and transmits them to another living creature stationed at a -point where they may be received and assimilated. There, Monsieur le -capitaine, you have our ‘process’--if I may borrow a term from the -jargon of your modern alchemists. - -“You must be aware by this time, Sir, that I am seeking to hide -nothing from you, that I come down indeed to very perilous details. I -will go even so far as to add that the conditions favorable for this -operation may be found in any room whatever, provided such room be -tightly closed, perfectly silent, and darkened to a half light; and -provided also, it be laid on a line from North to South. This latter -specification is necessary in order to keep at sufficient tension -(by drawing on the magnetic forces of the Earth itself) the magnetic -current which, for its part, any strong and wilful man can find in his -own physical being when he so pleases. - -“Now, Monsieur le capitaine, I dare hope you have been furnished with -all the facts that you desired to know?” - - - - -XX - - -The invincible, all-powerful clutch which fastened me helpless to my -chair, seemed to have paralyzed my tongue and some of the functions -even of my brain. I was in full possession of consciousness. I could -still think clearly and logically; and I could feel--what despair -indeed was mine! But volition, the power to act, had left me; and -my combativeness, also, my rage, my fury against these drinkers of -human blood, these assassins of the girl I loved, were weakening, -vacillating, melting away into a hazy, vaporous, indistinct emotion. - -The Marquis Gaspard, after a pause, was again speaking, with that same -obtrusive, labored, sinister urbanity. - -“Monsieur le capitaine,” said he, “at the risk of seeming intolerably -repetitious, I must here revert to something I have mentioned at -least twice before, the fact, to wit, that everything under this roof -is at your beck and call, without fear or refusal, save one single -thing. Eventually, alas, we shall be constrained to broach the painful -subject of that single thing, which, to our extreme regret, we shall -have perforce to deny you. Will you not, therefore, carefully examine -your mind in all its nooks and corners the better to acquaint us--and -as specifically as possible--with all your desires? My honor as a -gentleman, they will be satisfied, if the satisfaction be within our -power.” - -He fell silent, and looked up as though expecting me to speak. Indeed, -with the final syllables of his last phrase, a curious, and very -complex, sensation began coursing through me. At first, it was a -sort of tingling in all my veins and arteries, where my blood seemed -to be moving faster as my heart beat with a gradually increasing -force. Then I began to understand: little by little, by imperceptible -degrees, the control over me was slackening; an influence which my -mind could not comprehend was lifting the weight that had settled on -my limbs. I was not free, by any means; but neither was I completely -helpless as before; so that, when the Marquis Gaspard repeated his -question, directly, this time, and without so many mellifluous -detours--“Monsieur, what do you wish?”--I was able to answer easily, -and with absolute sincerity. - -And answer I did--an answer that expressed the deepest, most ardent -feelings in my heart: “There is nothing I wish, Monsieur. Kill me, as -you have killed the girl I love. But kill me quickly: I am ready!” - -In reply the Marquis Gaspard, as he had so often done before, laughed -a laugh in that queer falsetto voice of his; and therewith, on the -instant, the mysterious weight came down again upon my shoulders, while -the clutch tightened again upon my nerves and muscles. Once more I was -a prisoner, securely bound, my tongue clinging limp and lifeless to my -teeth. Inert, body and soul, I felt the ironical voice of my conqueror -again laving me with its scalding mirth. - -“My word, Monsieur le capitaine! What are you dreaming of? Badly indeed -I must have expressed myself! Are you not taking me for some _feu_ -Cartouche of the good old days, for some Monsieur de Paris, perhaps? -Hah! Hah!” - -And this time, as he laughed, he shrugged his shoulders in affected -resignation; and I found a certain ironic exaggeration in the sweep of -the hand with which he again took out his snuff-box. - -“Well,” he continued, “I can see there is no help for it. Another -bit of glossing will be far from wasted here. Your pardon, Monsieur -le capitaine, if I, who should not, remind you, that the three men -you see before you are three of the most reputable gentlemen of the -Kingdom of France. This right hand of mine was never soiled with a -drop of blood. Count François here, born in 1770, grew up in the days -of your Revolution and was a ‘philosopher’ of the Jean Jacques style -in the days when Rousseau was all the rage. Believe me, what he saw -of the France of that time, a nation gone entirely mad, and bent on -turning into a slaughter-house, disgusted him forever with Samsons -and guillotines. As for the Vicomte Antoine, he came into the world -in season to figure among those _enfants du siècle_ who borrowed the -pen of Alfred de Musset to wring the hearts of an admiring world with -words of tender lassitude and languishing despair. Poor makings for a -cannibal, in truth, monsieur! No, I can see the effects of the reading -people do in these modern days. Too many novels, too many novels! A -bad diet, I take it, for impressionable, imaginative minds. Who said -a word here about killing anybody? The idea of putting you--or Madame -de X....--to death had not occurred to us in the remotest degree. -Count François, as I may have intimated, has a bit of the moralist -under his skin. Give him half a chance and he starts preaching at you! -Well, he will explain, if you choose to ask him, and have the patience -to bear the consequences, how wholly improper it would be for men -possessing the Secret of Long Life, for Men who really know what Living -means, to deprive simple ordinary people of any portion of that brief -course which leads them unfailingly and miserably to the Hereafter. -We have the Powers Above to thank, Monsieur, that our Secret, _the_ -Secret, makes (barring a few chance exceptions, so infrequent as to be -negligible), no cruel demands upon us. So far, Monsieur le capitaine, -I have added a full century to my appointed years. Believe me, none -of those additional days have I stolen from the lives of others. No, -we are not of those who kill! Can you, Monsieur, a soldier, say as -much? Many young people, to be sure, boys and girls alike, have passed -through our laboratory. That I cannot deny. Nor could I swear that they -departed thence without leaving something of their ultimate vitality. -But, at the worst, their loss was a very slight, a very unappreciable -one, Monsieur le capitaine; and this loss I might condone with the -reflection that a single extra day of life for an ancient sage like -me ought surely be worth some sacrifice--a sacrifice, I repeat, quite -exceptional in point of fact, since all of the contributors on whom we -draw, having once accomplished their generous task, return safe, sound -and happy to their normal pursuits. Your friend, for instance, Madame -de X...., is by no means so far gone as you imagine. When, tomorrow -evening, she goes back to her home from another trip to ... Beaulieu, -no one will take the trouble to observe that she is lighter by some -pounds than at the time she went away--a relatively few ounces of -blood, and bone, and flesh, which we have claimed from her youthful -substance. Concede the fact yourself, Monsieur le capitaine: your -indignation was a bit excessive. So now, I suppose, we are at the -end of our misunderstandings. From what you have just said I gather -simply that you have no particular desires except, I dare say, an -early solution of your Adventure. In the latter case, Monsieur, we -might proceed. What do you say? Shall we look for such a solution in a -friendly spirit ... together?” - -Again the iron grasp upon my being was loosened for the fraction of a -second; I was permitted to nod in acquiescence. - - - - -XXI - - -The Marquis Gaspard hitched about in his chair; and, as his body lay -back in the deep cushions, I noticed, on either of the arms of gilded -wood, a small withered hand, the desiccated skin of which, faultlessly -manicured, was as glossy as ancient ivory. The Count François and the -Vicomte Antoine, whether of their own accord or in imitation of their -respective parent and grand-parent, relaxed into similar comfortable -positions, their hands also, broader and less wasted, likewise resting -on their carved chair-arms--which they quite encircled, what with -fingers and palm. I could not help observing these details; for a -clear, definite conviction mysteriously seized upon my mind that those -talons, of such innocent and genteel exteriors, had their nails somehow -buried in every part of my tortured flesh. - -The marquis was again speaking: “Monsieur le capitaine, I consider -you an intelligent man; and I will not do you the injustice of -supposing for an instant that you have failed to divine the nature -of the restriction which I have always been careful to introduce -expressly into all my offers of service and hospitality. The time has -come--believe me, I am more pained than you thereat--for us to touch -more directly upon this restriction. As I have repeatedly assured you, -Monsieur le capitaine, our house is wholly, entirely, absolutely at -your disposal; but you will understand, knowing what you know, that you -will never be allowed to depart from it. Everything here is yours for -the asking, everything! Everything save one single thing: your freedom! - -“In thus detaining you against your will, our sorrow, Monsieur le -capitaine, knows no bounds, no bounds whatever. I say that in behalf -of the three of us; for I know that the count here, and the vicomte, -feel the same regret as I. But what else can we do? In our heart of -hearts, we regard ourselves as absolutely not responsible for any of -the consequences that may result from your visit to our abode. Chance, -and your own--very pardonable--curiosity, are to blame. A thousand -to one chance--and it went against you! It was your ridiculously -unreasonable misfortune to have seen last evening something that no -mortal man could be allowed to see: Madame de X.... on the Col de la -Mort de Gauthier. But your bad luck did not end even there. In your -rambling search for your lady, it was your second mischance to come -dangerously near our refuge. From that point on we were helpless. -Knowing, perhaps, that we exist, knowing perhaps where we live, knowing -perhaps the kind of visits we are occasionally obliged to receive, you -know far too much, Monsieur le capitaine; for the Secret preserves -its efficacy only so long as it remains a Secret. It must, by nature, -be the exclusive appanage of a few Living Men. Let the generality of -Mortals even suspect its existence, and it is finished. Our Secret, -you see, Monsieur, is an essentially aristocratic one. Its exercise -presupposes the subservience of a great number of inferior creatures, -who must endure labor, suffering and fatigue for the profit and welfare -of a few master beings. I need not remind you that the humanitarian -prejudices, the democratic sentimentality, of the present age would -not take kindly to such a notion. Your politicians, who flatter and -fawn on a vulgar demos more vilely than any of my comrades, the royal -pages, ever courted the _Roi Bien Aimé_, would tear their hair in -oratoric indignation if they ever discovered that for the past hundred -and seventy-five years one man has been allowing himself to avoid death -in defiance of all equalitarian principles. So much so, Monsieur le -capitaine, that we three, among the most well-intentioned gentlemen in -the Kingdom, as I boasted not long since, find ourselves obliged to -hide like brigands in this out-of-the-way spot, and behind a labyrinth -of boulders, precipices and thickets certain to keep all intruders away. - -“In the circumstances, our embarrassment should not be hard to -understand. You have happened on us, Monsieur le capitaine, much as a -wasp might strike into a spider’s web, tearing everything to pieces. If -you were left at liberty to return whence you came, carrying the shreds -of our Secret in your pockets, it would be the jolly end of us, now -would it not? I am speaking, as you well realize, without a trace of -exaggeration. - -“Consider a moment, Monsieur le capitaine! Try to imagine the -prodigies of prudence and cunning we have had to perform, the -limitless sacrifices we have had to make, to ensure our safety and our -independence in the various countries where we have had to live. For -one thing, we have always been moving from this place to that. The -business of a Wandering Jew would be child’s play compared with our -many flights and migrations. But the discomforts attendant on such -things have been the least of our troubles. Monsieur le capitaine, when -my master died, I was still a comparatively young man, and François -here was a mere boy. His mother I had married twenty years before, in -France--still young and beautiful she was, and as strict in her loyalty -to her husband as conjugal happiness demands--neither too much nor too -little, that is. I loved her dearly; and my great joy, at first, was -to think of taking her along with me to share the new destiny I had in -store. But then I reflected: was it wise, was it prudent, to entrust -to a woman a Secret on the keeping of which depended whether I should -come to be another Count de Saint Germain, and perhaps, indeed, an -older and a more learned one? Could I stake, on a female’s discretion -and wisdom, the outcome of a game to last for years and years, when -winning would make us literally immortal, and a single uncautious -word would spell certain ruin? Alas! You understand: I could not! I -submitted accordingly, Monsieur le capitaine, to the torture of seeing -the mother of my only child perish before my very eyes, while, all -along, I could have preserved forever the smile of her lips and the -sweetness of her caresses. Such a price the continuance of our lives -as Living Men exacted. And twenty years thereafter, my son, in his -turn, to prevent the Secret of Long Life from becoming entangled in -skirts, sacrificed his wife. Such facts will enable you, Monsieur le -capitaine, to estimate the value of this formidable knowledge, which -we have preferred to two lives no less precious, you must admit, than -your own. I have said two lives, with a view to a reasonable statistic. -There may have been more. A few moments ago you saw how pale and -weakened your friend, Madame de X...., appeared. It is no simple matter -to give up some eight or ten pounds of living substance to another -person.... Then, there are the accidents to take account of.... We have -had such lamentable occurrences to regret, unfortunately ... though -very few, very very few.... In any event, you can see that the ransom -of our lives must be a heavy one, though a capricious Circumstance -has decreed that others should pay it for us.... Alas, Monsieur le -capitaine! You surely will not be surprised if it has fallen to you now -to assume a portion of the cost.... - -“You must, in short, pay something; and I am certain I can rely, in -such a matter, on your liberality as a gentleman of parts.... What -puzzles me rather is the kind of currency that might be passed between -us....” - -At this point he broke off, and looked first at the one and then at the -other of his two companions, who, first one and then the other, wagged -their heads in doubt. A moment or so must thus have passed. - -“Monsieur le capitaine,” the marquis suddenly resumed; “if we -were living a hundred years earlier, in 1808 instead of 1908, our -difficulties would be easily superable. For, I must tell you: this -is not the first time we have been embarrassed by the inconvenient -presence with us of an intruder--living or dead as the case may be. -Forgive my using such a term for you; it is accurate, however seemingly -discourteous. Yes, I remember, to mention only one such episode, a -poor Neapolitan who, some eighty odd years ago, died in our house most -inopportunely. We were living in Naples at the time. The police service -of the Bourbons was a pretty ramshackle affair; none the less I was -afraid of considerable annoyance, should it ever occur to the Gentlemen -of the Guard to ask how that particular person happened to be found -dead so far from his own home. I decided to anticipate any indiscrete -inquisitiveness. A felucca from Malta happened to be lying in port. We -went aboard long before any one in town could possibly have begun to -work up interest in the death of that unfortunate man. The felucca set -sail; and no one found any objection to raise against the departure of -three kind-hearted old gentlemen noted for the promptness with which -they paid their bills. From Malta we took another boat to Cadiz; and -from Cadiz we went on to Seville, where we were sure no citizen of the -Two Sicilies would ever suspect our presence. - -“But nowadays, alas, the earth has become much smaller, and the -telegraph, especially, has seriously complicated our manner of living. -Take your case, Monsieur le capitaine. I have no doubt that in the -course of the next few hours, any number of official dispatches will -be sent out over all this region, broadcasting the news that you are -missing and asking light on the mysterious failure of your mission. -There is another difficulty. At the time of our settling here, I was -obliged, through the obnoxious provisions of French law, to make a -declaration before your magistrates, in order to acquire legal title to -this homestead. So you see, the authorities know who I am; or at least -they think they know who I am. You can rely upon it: if you were to -drop out of sight, an army of detectives would come looking for you, -and turn this house upside down from cellar to attic. You know that I -am right. Well, there we are, in a blind alley as it were. We cannot -let you go away, alive and free, as you came. Nor can we keep you here, -a prisoner--or a corpse....” - -Again he broke off. Then inclining his head slightly to one side, and -pushing his lips forward into a grimace of amusement, he laughed once -more in the same thin, high-pitched, crackling tone. - -“I seem to note a movement of surprise in you,” he now continued. “I -imagine you are thinking of your friend, Madame de X...., and you -are objecting that she comes here, goes away, comes back again, and -that others, doubtless, of our contributors do likewise without any -untoward consequence resulting. And you are right. But do you suppose -that she or any one of her co-workers knows the slightest thing about -us and about what we are doing, that any one of them is in the least -conscious of the philanthropic service he or she is rendering? Monsieur -le capitaine, our disposition to solitude has always inclined us to -choose very secluded spots for our abode in whatever neighborhood we -are living. The road to our door is necessarily a long one, and our -guests would have good reason to complain had we not, from the very -outset, devised a means of sinking them into an hypnotic slumber which -spares them all consciousness of fatigue. On such a system, for that -matter, our security itself depends, as you can readily see. By virtue -of it, we are able, whenever we set up our household for ten or twenty -years in some hospitable region, to survey the inhabitants for their -strongest and most robust members, to select, in the end, those who -are freest and most independent in their habits and manner of living. -These latter, only, become collaborators in our Secret. And may I, in -this connection, reassure you, in case there should be some temptation -to jealousy on your part: Madame de X.... was not chosen by us for her -pretty eyes, though these may, I grant you, be the brightest pair in -the world; but because she lives, for most of the time, quite apart -from any relatives, and because her country house, situated at some -distance from Toulon, requires frequent protracted absences from the -city; and her occasional disappearances are not, therefore, likely to -cause uneasiness in her husband or in any of her friends. I hope, now, -Monsieur le capitaine, that your mind is at rest on that point.... - -“ ... as I wish mine were on the issue of your adventure! We have -reached this conclusion in our talk thus far: that you cannot leave -this place alive and free; on the other hand, you cannot remain here a -prisoner, and much less a corpse. Oh, of course, we might conceivably -take unfair advantage of the situation you are in, kill you, and carry -your body to some place where no possible suspicion could fall upon us. -But for all you may be thinking or may actually have said, we are not -murderers, Monsieur le capitaine, nor anything resembling murderers. -For that reason we shall not kill you, even were the temptation to do -so to be very great indeed.... - -“Such being the case, our problem is to discover some way of not -killing you ... a problem which I regard as difficult enough to merit -consulting the views of each of us, yours included, Monsieur le -capitaine!” - -The marquis once more opened his snuff-box and offered a pinch first -to the count and then to the vicomte. Then he helped himself; and this -time he sneezed, voluptuously, into his handkerchief. - - - - -XXII - - -Each in turn, at a deferential nod of their respective father and -grandfather, first the count and then the vicomte proffered their -suggestions; and so long had I been listening to the shrill falsetto of -the marquis, that the sharp, low-pitched enunciation of the other two -almost made me start with surprise, paralyzed though I was. - -“Monsieur,” said the count, addressing the Marquis Gaspard, “you are -right on every point; and especially in what you said of the danger -we incur from the presence of Monsieur le capitaine in this place--a -danger enhanced by the fact that Madame de X.... is likewise our guest -at the present moment. We cannot think of sending her away before this -evening, whether to Toulon or to Solliès. That would expose her too -soon to the fatigue of the return journey. She is still extremely weak, -and neither you nor I, in the very worst circumstances, would consent -to risking an innocent life. Now tomorrow morning, this neighborhood -will be full of soldiers--we can depend upon that. For, obviously, -Monsieur is very close to the governor: his absence will be noticed, -and a thorough search made. We have every reason to fear a visit -ourselves; and in such an unfortunate event we shall be compelled to -conceal two persons instead of one: a double danger, if you think as I -think.” - -“I do,” said the marquis. - -The count bowed and proceeded: - -“The path of virtue is not the easiest to follow in a case like this: -no end of criminal or treacherous devices suggest themselves for -relieving us of our present embarrassment. To mention one: few people -in Toulon are unaware of the relations existing between Madame de X.... -and Monsieur le capitaine. It would be a simple matter to account for -his disappearance by turning suspicion upon this estimable young lady. -Can there be any doubt of that? Tomorrow police and soldiery will be -searching this territory inch by inch. On the Mort de Gauthier, not -far from the carcass of Monsieur’s horse--that clue it is too late -to obliterate--they find the captain’s lover! Nothing more would be -necessary: of course--a “crime passionel,” served to the taste of the -metropolitan press! The work of a jealous woman! The eagerness of the -public to accept such an exciting hypothesis would divert all attention -from us without fail. And Madame de X...., mark you, would meanwhile -be unable to defend herself from a charge the very monstrousness of -which would quite confound her. That unfortunate girl could never -explain to herself, let alone to her judges, her incomprehensible -presence in such improbable surroundings.” - -The Vicomte Antoine had raised his head: “Such barbarity, such -cowardice, would be worse than murder outright and stain our hands -darker than with blood: you would make us the vilest of cads, Monsieur.” - -There was an abundance of heat in his tone. The count turned toward him -and bowed with a nod of approval: - -“I agree with you, and no rational gentleman devoted to a life in -accord with Nature, would ever allow an innocent head to fall under -an unjust punishment. But observe, nevertheless: no court would ever -convict the lady on pure supposition; and all direct evidence of a -crime would be wanting....” - -The vicomte interrupted: “I grant you that a court might acquit, -Monsieur; but the public never. And this woman, convicted through our -agency of having lived according to her heart, would be the victim of -general hostility and opprobrium. Her honor would be smirched forever, -and her life ruined.” - -“That is true,” the count again admitted. - -The squeaky laugh of the marquis took them both to task: - -“Enough, gentlemen! Spare us your preciosities, I beg of you. There -you are, at it again, indulging your usual fatuities in behalf of the -widowed mother and her ten children! Will you gentlemen never tire of -sentimentalizing--playing with those soap-bubbles of yours: Humanity, -Fraternity, Love, Nature? Does neither of you see that the security -of our Secret is perhaps of more importance than the so-called good -name of a woman who has already, of her own accord, made herself the -talk of a county? The solution you have suggested, Sir, is by no means -unworthy of consideration. I do not, however, regard it as the best. -I think that before deciding on any course we should review all the -possibilities before us. It is your turn, Vicomte. Have you something -practicable to propose?” - -The youngest of the three men hesitated. Finally he said: - -“May it not be that the solution lies in the very magnetic forces -over which we have control? I am thinking of yours particularly, -Monsieur, so prodigiously powerful, when you choose to exert them. It -has occurred to me that we might send the captain home, free to all -appearances, but still retained under such an influence that every -word he uttered would be dictated by us. We could gain some days in -that way; and then....” - -The smile on the lips of the marquis was almost a sneer: - -“Then what?” he questioned. - -The vicomte failed to find an answer, and the marquis supplied one for -him: - -“Then ... nothing! Where could such a comedy end? How long do you think -we could stand the strain? It is no easy matter to keep our hold on an -old man ready for the grave. Could we, without a moment’s respite, and -till the end of the world, suppress the individuality of a man like -Monsieur le capitaine, youthful, robust of body, and strong of will? -Nonsense, Monsieur! Utter nonsense! Find something better than that, -Vicomte. Come, gentlemen, you have heads! Use them!” - -But the count and the vicomte added not a word. The staccato laugh of -the marquis alone continued to grate through the silence of the hall. - - - - -XXIII - - -Suddenly my flaccid arteries began to dilate again under stronger -pulsations of my heart. As had been my experience a few moments -earlier, a diffuse tingling spread through all my fibres, and the -paralyzing grasp upon me was relaxed anew. But on previous occasions -my freedom had been only half restored and for very brief intervals. -Now I was free, free from head to foot--a liberty without any restraint -whatever; and the sensation of possessing it was destined to endure. -I raised my head in astonishment. On my eyes the eyes of the marquis -rested; but no imperious commands were emanating from them now. - -A temptation flashed across my mind: to leap from my chair, spring upon -my captors, and, disarmed as I was, make a fight to the death against -them. And a second thought also came to me: the thought of fleeing. - -But I contented myself in the end with a shrug of the shoulders. What -could I do, after all? Speedier than my flight, more powerful than any -violence, the unerring glance darting from the old man’s eyes would -have halted me, overwhelmed me--that I well knew. If indeed he was now -loosening the unseen bonds that held me, much as shackles are removed -from a prisoner once the doors of the gaol are closed, I was in reality -no less a captive than before; and any strength I may have had, though -I was now ostensibly free to use it, seemed hardly dangerous to my -three antagonists. - -So I sat there motionless in my chair. - -When the marquis now addressed me it was in a very gentle tone indeed. - -“Monsieur le capitaine,” said he, “I am sure you are at present in a -much more reasonable frame of mind and that you understand perfectly at -last the kind of people with whom you are dealing: just plain decent -people like yourself--only a great deal older, and with lives, for that -reason, necessarily more precious. Yes, that is the whole question, -really: to safeguard, first of all, these marvelous, virtually immortal -lives we three are living, and then, if, and so far as possible, to do -something for you; just as we always do the best we can for the men and -women who serve us in the manner I have explained. A simple situation, -isn’t it? I am inclined to trust your sense of fair play, Monsieur le -capitaine. You will admit that we have treated you considerately thus -far, refraining from unseemly harshness even when you had tried our -patience sorely. Our desire you see, is to regard you not as an enemy -but as an ally, a co-worker, a friend. Fundamentally both you and we -have the same object in view. That enables me, without further delay, -to invite you to take a part in our deliberations. You have heard what -has just been said. Unfortunately no workable plan seems to have come -from it. I wonder whether you, perchance, can think of some egress from -our difficulties?” - -I beseech you--you who read these lines that I am writing, struggling -perhaps to decipher the crude scrawling of this pencil now worn to -the wood, bear me witness that my Adventure was a terrible adventure, -fraught with a horror beyond humanity, beyond life. All that night -long--it was my last night, remember--I was not my normal self, but -rather like a dreamer caught in the terrors of some ghastly nightmare; -and if I chanced, while groping in the depths of that abyss, to forget, -for a moment, that I was a man, and was able to think, for a moment, of -betraying the cause of Men, of Mortal Men, for the profit and comfort -of the Men of Prey, the Ever-living Men, do you who read my full -confession, measure my weakness with the measure of your own; and do -not condemn me lightly! - -Yes, of just that I was guilty! And any crime was in vain. - -When the Marquis Gaspard had twice repeated his question: “Can you, -perchance, think of some egress from our difficulties,” I, yes, I, -André Narcy with lowered head and cheeks aflame, made answer. And I -answered with these literal words: - -“Monsieur, open your doors and let me depart in peace; and let Madame -de X...., the girl I love, go also. Give me your word of honor as a -gentleman that this lady will never again be called to this house; -and I, for my part, will give my word of honor as a soldier, never to -breath a word to living person, man or woman, free mason or priest, of -anything that I have seen or heard here, or even of your existence!” - -The Marquis Gaspard was on his feet almost before I had finished: - -“Monsieur,” said he, with a wave of the hand, “I congratulate you! That -is what I had been hoping to hear! Your proposal affords me unbounded -satisfaction: I would fain see in it the beginning of a perfect -understanding between us, with promise of the further success certain -to spring from such perfect accord.” - -He sat down again, felt his pockets for his snuff-box, took it out, -reflected a moment, and then, with another toss of the head, resumed: - -“Alas, Monsieur, I am deeply pained at my inability to accept, offhand, -a proposition in itself so generous. Pray do not mistake my meaning: I -have the sincerest regard for your word of honor as a soldier. I hold -for it the same high esteem which you profess for my word of honor -as a gentleman. Both, we may rest assured, are of pure alloy, more -precious than gold, more trusty than steel. I have implicit confidence -in you, Monsieur le capitaine, as you will have the charity to believe! -But--have you considered carefully, Monsieur le capitaine? The Secret -which you would take in trust so courageously is a burden that weighs -more heavily than you realize perhaps. What is needed to betray it? -A word merely, a single imprudent word! Who, other than a man bereft -of speech, could undertake to withhold such a word eternally? Why, -Monsieur le capitaine, how can one deny it? Look at the matter as it -actually stands! I ask you: do you never talk in your sleep? Do you -always sleep out of hearing of others? Can you be certain never to have -a fever, a delirium? That might be enough! That might be enough! You -can see the point, I am sure: good faith, by itself, has no practical -value in such a serious circumstance. It is no discourtesy to you -if we must reject, to our extreme regret, the offer of a promise -which might be dangerous to the honor of the man brave enough to make -it--with the most earnest intentions, as I know.” - -The old man here bowed to me with a very formal deference. When he -proceeded, it was with a change of tone: - -“But, whatever the course we are finally to adopt, it would help -to know with reasonable accuracy, beforehand, whether we may be -exaggerating the probability of immediate danger. Monsieur le -capitaine, no one is better placed than you to enlighten us on that -detail. Will you not tell us therefore: are we right, or are we wrong, -in assuming that, with this coming dawn, a patrol will begin looking -for you in this neighborhood?” - -Without speaking, I nodded in the affirmative. - -“Ah,” commented the marquis, with deep concern. - -He sat thinking for some moments. - -“Your horse,” he finally continued, “they tell me its carcass is lying -out there on the Col de la Mort de Gauthier.” - -Again I nodded. - -His next words were uttered in a subdued tone almost as though he were -thinking aloud to himself: - -“So the real search will begin there! The important thing is to have it -a brief one. Time is a capital consideration. The speediest solution -should be the best....” - -He had opened his snuff box, and with one of his fingers was stirring -the tobacco about, absent-mindedly: - -“Beyond a doubt.... The danger will be less in proportion as it be -brief.... Those people will hunt and hunt, and keep hunting for a long -time.... A long time, except on one condition....” - -He looked at me, and once or twice again he tossed his head in his -characteristic manner: - -“Except on one condition--the condition that they find immediately ... -what they are looking for! What would satisfy them? You, of course, -nothing, nobody else--you, alive or dead ... preferably dead!...” - -I was certain he was preparing to broach the subject of assassination; -and I had quite prepared myself: - -“I am in your power,” I observed coldly. - -But the marquis frowned and answered curtly: - -“Monsieur le capitaine, I thought I had explained to you that we would -not kill you even were the failure to do so to cost us dearly.” - -He shrugged his shoulders; and then, turning to his two companions, he -said: - -“I see no alternative: we must organize, stage as it were, some -ingenious situation, fit to deceive those investigators, who, for that -matter, start with no prepossessions, and are a very ordinary lot of -numbskulls into the bargain. It will not be so difficult to arrange -something. All we need is a corpse, at the foot of a precipice; a -safe distance from here, naturally, and not too far from the Mort de -Gauthier....” - -Again he relapsed into thought, his eyes fixed on the floor. - -But the Vicomte Antoine raised an objection. - -“A corpse, yes! But we haven’t one, Monsieur. Where can we get a -corpse? Can you be thinking of breaking a grave, somewhere?” - -The marquis came out of his revery, and laughed aloud: - -“Antoine, there you are again--the inevitable touch of Gothic! Will -you never get cured of your romanticism? What a thrill! A dark night! -A cemetery! Three men stealing up to a vault with pick-axes.... The -idea is not only romantic: it is asinine. Do you suppose the stupidest -police sergeant, even, would stop at the first skull and cross bones he -came to, and immediately draw up the death certificate of our friend, -the captain, here? And that death certificate, precisely, we are -looking for, are we not! For the world, for every living person in it, -Monsieur le capitaine must be a dead man, and of a death as simple and -as easily explainable as possible. Then only can we feel secure!” - -His jocular mood vanished. He looked up at me again with deepest -concern. - -“Monsieur,” he said, “I am profoundly sympathetic with you! I -realize how hard it must seem to lose one’s self--one’s name, one’s -professional and social position, one’s very individuality. That, alas, -is the lot in store for you! You will be allowed to live--that I have -promised, and I reiterate the promise now. But you will nevertheless -have, in some cemetery, a grave with a stone and an epitaph upon it, -and under the sod, a coffin with your mortal remains. There is no -escape from that; and I beg you to be as resigned as possible!” - -An icy chill ran the length of my spine. For death I had been long -preparing; but I was beginning at last to see that dying was not what -threatened me: it was a question of something else, of something worse, -perhaps. - -The Vicomte Antoine persisted in his objection: - -“But those mortal remains, where are we....” - -The marquis cut the sentence off with an oblique downward movement of -his hand and arm: - -“Here!” said he. - - - - -XXIV - - -In the silence which followed, I could hear the violent leap of my -heart and feel the drops of chilling sweat as they gathered about my -temples. I was afraid, with that indescribable sensation of fear which -one has of the dark, or of the ghosts and phantoms that walk by night. -The falsetto of the marquis did little to allay my weird uneasiness -when his voice again came to my ears. He was speaking to me: - -“Monsieur le capitaine, I have been weighing the pros and cons in my -mind carefully and thoroughly. But now my decision has been made. From -it all our further deliberations must proceed. You, of course, can -have no rational objection to it, since you could devise no means for -solving the problem before us when your turn came. You will be so kind, -accordingly, as to consider the present recourse settled beyond appeal.” - -He raised his right hand as though about to take an oath: - -“Monsieur le capitaine, up to this day, you have been Monsieur André -Narcy, captain of cavalry, staff officer at the fortress of Toulon. You -are no longer such: Monsieur André Narcy, captain of cavalry, staff -officer of the said fortress, is hereby suppressed, and nothing can -save him, since his life has become a mortal menace to the Ever-living -Man. You, Monsieur--henceforth I cannot call you Monsieur le -capitaine--will continue to live under such name as shall be pleasing -to you; but you shall continue to live here, a prisoner in this -house--at least for a certain length of time; for it is by no means a -life-long captivity that we are obliged to impose upon you. Our sojourn -in this place may be shortened. Out of consideration for you, we will -undertake to limit your restraint to a maximum of three years, dating -from today. We will change our residence as soon as we may safely do -so, without arousing unduly hazardous suspicions. We will take you with -us. Then, on any spot on earth which you may designate--we require only -that it be distant--we will set you at liberty, gladly, and without -demanding any pledge of silence whatsoever from you. Why such a pledge, -indeed? Your story, should you tell one, would be that of an unknown -adventurer--or that of an imposter, should you have the extravagant -audacity to attempt a resuscitation of Captain André Narcy. Thirty or -forty months before this time on this 22nd of December, 1908, Captain -André Narcy was found dead; and, unquestionably identified, was buried -with military honors. Such a story, I repeat, and as you know well, -would send you to an asylum for a much longer time than the three or -four years we ask of you. No, you will be silent without a pledge and -silently begin life over again--a new life, which, I trust, will be -happy, prosperous, and free from accidents, even from accidents less -tragic than the one which has brought your present life to an end this -very hour!” - -I had listened, with a deathly chill in my heart. The marquis leaned -forward toward me. - -“Do you accept this recourse--of your own free will?” he asked. - -I threw my shoulders back and mustered the little strength that still -remained in me. With head high I answered: - -“I am in your power. There is nothing for me to accept or to refuse. I -have no choice in the matter.” - -To my surprise, my answer, easy as it must have been to foresee, -strangely disconcerted my prosecutor. I saw him bite his lips, and look -hesitatingly first to his right and then to his left. After a time, he -resumed, abruptly, and with a curious plaint in his voice: - -“Monsieur, I am disappointed in you, and I confess to you quite frankly -that this resignation you are affecting does not serve my purposes at -all. Remember, if you will be so kind, exactly who we are. In my view, -you and I do not stand toward each other in the position respectively -of victim and executioner. And you have an absolutely free choice in -agreeing or in refusing to submit to what we ask of you.” - -I was quite unable to fathom the meaning of this man who was addressing -me in this incomprehensible language. I made no answer. - -“Once more I ask you, Monsieur,” he insisted: “Do you consent freely -and heartily to the death of Captain André Narcy; and do you consent -freely and heartily to survive him, at the simple cost of a few years -of pleasurable captivity?” - -I made no effort to understand, this time. I shrugged my shoulders and -answered bluntly: - -“No.” - -Once and again the marquis tossed his head. - -“Monsieur, you are making a great mistake,” said he; and his bright, -restless eyes swept me with a glance of severe disapprobation: “A great -mistake, Monsieur! I am a very very old man. May I plead indulgence for -my years and employ toward you the language a grandfather might use -toward one of his children’s children? You are a stubborn bad-tempered -boy--naughty, would be almost the word. You are rebelling petulantly -against an inexorable destiny which, nevertheless, is deaf to the -whimpering of men. Yes, it is childish of you; your conduct is not -seemly in a grown man. I hope you cannot be imagining that a simple -‘no’ from you is going to cause us so very much embarrassment, or that -we are going to commit suicide just because you refuse a real favor -at our hands! Agreed: we will not kill you, whatever happens. But do -not speculate too rashly on the horror of bloodshed which we so deeply -feel. You have little to gain from it. You have been able to see from -what I have told you how little, on the whole, we hesitate where women -are concerned. Nothing would be easier that to sacrifice the so-called -honor of the girl you love in exchange for the peace of mind of us -three old men. No, nothing would be easier--as the count here explained -to you, only a moment ago.” - -And at this point he too shrugged his shoulders. After a moment’s -pause, he resumed: - -“What do you say, Monsieur? Shall we stop all this nonsense, and -play the game with cards face up on the table? Look here: my idea, -as I intimated, is to deceive the civil and military authorities of -Toulon, and the newspapers and the public of Toulon, in regard to -what has actually happened to you. They will, in other words, believe -you dead. Your death certificate will be duly filed, your obituary -written, your grave dug, and filled. In such a case, no one will -ever dream of looking for you away off here in this lonely mansion, -where you will continue to live, temporarily, the life that we are -living--temporarily, I say; for as I promised a bare moment ago, -you will be set at liberty again, and as soon as possible, in some -distant country. What is there so terrible in all that for a man -in your situation--unmarried, without dependents, without serious -responsibilities of any kind? Now, for staging the first act of this -trifling comedy, your coöperation is absolutely indispensable. This -fictitious corpse they are to bury with military honors, honors -worthily your due, Monsieur, why--I cannot produce it with the wave -of a magic wand over a cucumber, as some fairy godmother might do -in a Christmas tale; but I can produce it in a manner quite as -satisfactory--only, to do so, I must have your help, a help which, I -repeat, must be freely, spontaneously, proffered!” - -I had listened I know not whether with greater surprise or alarm. At -his concluding words I saw the Count François and the Vicomte Antoine -turn with one movement toward their respective parent and grandparent, -their eyes aflame with a sudden intelligence as though some revelation -which had not yet dawned on me had come to them. Once more I mustered -all the forces of my faltering will; and I said: - -“Why all this beating about the bush? You have the upper hand. Why so -particular about the precise form of blackmail you will eventually -resort to? I have already offered my life in ransom for the life of -Madame de X....? Do you want me to repeat that offer? Very well! I am -still ready. Do your will upon me!” - -Several times the Marquis Gaspard waved a broad wide-open hand from -right to left, each gesture timed to an exclamation of protest: - -“Tic tac too! Did ever you see a worse case of balkiness? Monsieur, -for the dozenth time, and as you know perfectly well: nobody but you -has raised the question of throat-cutting! No, it’s a simple matter -of what you call, with some generosity I must say, the good name of -a woman; which presumptive good name is to be saved or sacrificed, -as you chance to decide, and at a price of which you are thoroughly -aware. However, I will concede a point: once this so-called good name -has been saved, I will, if you think it in the least important, add -the further stipulation that the object of your concern shall never -again be invited to this place, that she shall henceforth and forever -be excused from that special collaboration with us which, a few moments -ago, seemed to arouse in you a very understandable compassion. What -more can you ask, Monsieur? The question may now be stated thus: will -you pay for madame, or shall madame pay for you?” - -He had not completed the antithesis before I nodded in assent. The -marquis rose: “I thank you,” said he with great solemnity. “I have your -word of honor. Between a man like you and a man like me that is quite -enough.” - -Meanwhile the count and the vicomte had also risen to their feet. - -“Gentlemen,” said the marquis to them in a tone of command, “I noticed -that you at last had understood me. Be so good, accordingly, as to -attend to all the preparations necessary for the work that is now -before us. No time must be lost, since the dawn is close at hand. For -my part I must rest a moment, to collect myself.” - -He had stepped over, meanwhile, to one of the _dormeuses_ of the -complicated backs and arm rests, the curious design of which had -attracted my attention when I first came into the room. He sat down, -or rather, he buried himself, in one of these chairs. I saw him relax -against the cushions, which seemed calculated to fit every projection -and indentation of his form. - -There he rested, with arms folded and eyes closed. - - - - -XXV - - -While I waited, seated in my chair, looking on at everything intently, -the Count François and the Vicomte Antoine silently applied themselves -to a series of mysterious activities. First they took up each piece -of furniture and moved it away from the center of the hall, standing -the chairs in line against the wall, and leaving the whole floor clear -as if in preparation for a ball. Next, and still without exchanging -a syllable, evidently repeating an operation learned from long -experience, they brought out the horse, or easel, of which I have -spoken, and set it up, being careful to adjust it with precision to -the longitudinal axis of the hall, at a point about a third way down -the length thereof. Next they opened the antique chest, and drew from -it a curious object which they handled with great care, carrying it, -with visible effort, to the foot of the horse on which they finally -erected it in a vertical position. I noted that this object was about -as large as an ordinary cart wheel, that it was flat and circular. A -sort of lens, I judged it to be, much like the glass reflector of a -powerful searchlight. Its substance was not crystal, however, but -a material which I could not identify, something translucent rather -than transparent, colorless when viewed with even light, but otherwise -showing brilliant metallic glints, shading from ruby red to emerald -green with a profusion of all the tints of gold. This lustre, moreover, -stood out against the colorless background, as if it came from matter -distinct from the disk itself, though incorporated in the latter’s -substance. You are doubtless acquainted with Danzig brandy, a liquor -which seems filled with particles of floating gold; or with samples -of Leyden ware showing bits of crumpled tinsel sprinkled through the -glass. Such was the dish, or lens, in question. - -Finally the two old men stepped cautiously up to their respective -father and grandfather, still rigorously motionless in his strange -_dormeuse_; and avoiding the slightest noise, they slowly, gently, -wheeled him towards a point on the floor which I noticed was marked -off, with geometrical exactitude, by four plaques of glass--one -apparently for each of the four legs of the chair. Indeed, when they -had pushed the old man to the square, the count and the vicomte kneeled -on the floor to make sure that each castor was in the right position. -From all their movements I could see that the operation they were -about to perform was one requiring meticulous accuracy. This chair in -place, they turned to the second _dormeuse_, which, though empty, was -advanced just as carefully and noiselessly, and its position verified -with just as thorough an examination. - -Whereupon, the two old men returned to the seats they had previously -occupied, now, however, sitting with their backs against the wall and -their faces turned toward me. During all this time, I, for my part, -had not stirred; nor had I been once disturbed or caused to change my -position in the slightest. - -I sat there, observing intently. Things were now arranged as follows -in the room: the two _dormeuses_ and the horse stood at three points -on a straight line running lengthwise of the hall. The two seats faced -each other, with the horse between them but nearer to one than to the -other. Assuming the lens to be a refractor, I concluded from a rough -computation of the angles, that the image passing through it from one -chair would fall exactly into the other. - -However, the Marquis Gaspard, his body still relaxed and his eyes -closed, continued to give not a sign of life. - -A long silence ensued. - - - - -XXVI - - -A long, long silence.... - -At first I struggled with all my soul to keep cool and indifferent, -preserving on my features the mask of disdain which I had somehow -imprinted there. But little by little I could feel that the hold I had -on my nerves was growing steadily weaker. My Adventure was beginning -to show a semi-supernatural aspect the very indefiniteness of which -gradually paralyzed my courage as my motor centers had been paralyzed -an hour or more before. So much so that eventually I grew alarmed -lest my captors perceive the uncontrollable anxiety that was taking -possession of me: I suddenly arose, and with the idea of hiding the -expression on my face, I walked several steps away down the room. - -Still without moving, asleep perhaps, the Marquis Gaspard seemed not -to notice. Not so the Count François nor the Vicomte Antoine, however. -They, with a perfection of courtesy and with no trace of irony so -far as I could see, inquired as to whether I were tired, or indeed -impatient. - -“Monsieur,” the count spoke up solicitously, “be so kind as to excuse -the slowness of all this. If I have accurately divined my father’s -idea, I assure you it is a very bold one, and care in preparation is a -matter of unavoidable necessity. We have before us, unless I am quite -mistaken, one of the most delicate operations magnetic science knows; -and the Marquis Gaspard, with a proper caution, is summoning every -particle of energy at his command. Believe me, Monsieur: he will need -it all!” - -I had stopped, and was looking at the man as he began speaking; but my -eyes now turned instinctively toward the strange apparatus which he and -his son had but recently put in position on the easel. - -“That lens which you are examining,” the Vicomte Antoine explained, “is -used for concentrating the magnetic flow on the spot desired. It is -made of a special compound invented by the Count de Saint Germain, and -it has the power of refracting electrical waves just as glass refracts -rays of light. By such inventions and after numberless unsuccessful -experiments, the famous count, and my grandfather in his footsteps, -were enabled to master the natural magnetism they possessed in their -own bodies, and in consequence to obtain results which are rivalled -by nothing that your alienists, your psychiatrists--that is what you -call them, is it not?--nor even your wonder-working mediums, have ever -dreamed of. You will soon be convinced, I warrant you. The operation -that is probably to be tried tonight will furnish you with a prodigious -demonstration!” - -In spite of my ghastly desperation, I raised my eyebrows inquiringly. -The vicomte shook his head, with a significant nod towards his -grandfather. - -“The marquis did not deem fit to discuss his project with us, nor -even to reveal it in any precise detail to you. I should hardly -regard myself as authorized to go into the matter more fully at -present; but without divulging anything essential, I may ask -whether you are familiar with a term from the jargon of the occult -sciences--‘exteriorization’? You must have witnessed, at one time or -another, the evocation of a so-called spirit by a medium?” - -The question seemed so utterly inane that I did not answer. - -“I have, anyway,” the vicomte continued, overlooking my silence. “I -remember having seen something of the sort with my own eyes. Two -fairly skillful performers, one of whom called himself a medium, were -entertaining a number of people, myself among them, in a darkened room -in Paris; and one day they actually succeeded in producing a luminous -shadow of an approximately human form; and this, they claimed, was -the ghost of I forget what famous personage. That part of it was all -a hoax, of course; though the shadow itself was not by any means. You -could see it as plain as day, and almost touch it. There is no doubt in -my mind that the practitioner in question was in possession of some of -the same processes which we are using all the time, and got this shadow -from his colleague by a kind of ‘exteriorization,’ as they call it. -This, to be sure, was all a very crude affair; but it does suggest some -of the things we do in getting our life-workers to surrender a certain -number of their cells or atoms to us; and it resembles more closely -still the method we shall employ in a few moments ... but I think I -have said too much already....” - -He stopped, with an expression of mortification on his face; and the -Count François spoke up, as though to detract attention from his son’s -last words: - -“Monsieur, it is hardly worth while to discuss that subject now, -inasmuch as you will have full light upon it soon. I am going to seize -this opportunity to congratulate you. Whatever you may be thinking of -your experiences this night, it is really a piece of singular good -fortune that has befallen you. Here you are an ordinary mortal, thrown -by accident into the company of the Ever-living Men and forced, by an -equally fortunate train of events, to share their lives for a certain -length of time. Oh no, I beg of you--do not imagine I am bantering! -Just consider! You people can count on less than a hundred years of -life; and you are obliged, in consequence, to live in a perpetual -hurry, thinking, talking, acting forever in a rush, bolting your -daily bread, so to speak. Since you have to live rapidly in order to -live at all, you never really know what living means, nor do you ever -taste the infinite sweetness that life holds at bottom. Monsieur, -the besetting thought that death is nearer by each moment must quite -inhibit meditation and soil every leisure hour; and thoughtful idleness -I regard as the one true delight, which far outstrips in consoling -power the false and disappointing joys of sensuous indulgence. In -enjoining on us to perpetuate not our youth but our maturer manhood, -the Count de Saint Germain thought he was imposing on us a painful -sacrifice that would, however, in the end prove well worth while. -Over a long period of years, he himself had never tired of a most -stormy voyage on the seas of human passion; and he ended in shipwreck -on the shoals laid in his course by a tress of golden hair. I wonder -if he ever realized that he was missing the haven of real happiness -through fundamental misapprehension on his own part of the relative -value of things? Now to judge by the interest you seem to show in a -certain woman--a good-looking woman, I grant you, but noteworthy in no -other way that I can see--you must still be ignorant of the fatuity -of carnal satisfactions, when these are compared with the joys that -purely spiritual pleasures bring--through eyes, for example, that have -learned to sense the simple yet sublime beauties of a sky reddened by -the setting sun or of clouds touched with silver by a rising moon!” - -The Vicomte Antoine raised an arm in a gesture of sanguine enthusiasm: - -“The savor of such enjoyments never cloys, Monsieur; and while you -are our guest, I hope to have the opportunity of revealing to you two -wonders that Mortal Men have never learned to taste: Night, Monsieur, -and Day. The age to which you belong has stubbornly and blindly limited -its vision to the mechanical arts, seeking an absurd perfection of -bodily comfort and well-being which is useless and contemptible once -it has been attained. Your generation has quite lost sight of the -gratifications that naturally come to life; and, losing these from -view, it has of course lost the power to appreciate them. You, for -instance, just a few hours ago, were walking with me out on the -heath. It was raining and the night was menacing with storm. I am sure -your mind was engrossed with the slippery muddy path, the cold wet -bushes--all the discomforts, in short. Did you once raise your eyes to -the romantic splendors with which we were surrounded--those frowning -brows of the hills, their crests piercing the pearly mantle of mist and -fog in aspiration toward that upper wrapping of transparent silver that -Nature throws over her chilly shoulders?...” - -I listened on in an amazement that for the moment quite mastered my -anxiety. These atrocious demons, these vampires, cannibals indeed since -they lived, after all, on human flesh and blood--how could they bring -themselves to affect such delicate and poetic hypocrisies? And my -thoughts went out to all the pitiable victims who entered that accursed -House of the Secret, strong robust young men and women, and left it -pale, fainting, emaciated invalids; all to the end that three beasts -of prey might eschew “the false and disappointing joys of sensuous -indulgence” for the higher ones that “purely spiritual pleasures bring.” - - - - -XXVII - - -The Count François stopped and looked at his father who still sat, or -lay, motionless as a corpse in that singular _dormeuse_, half chair, -half couch. Had there appeared on those utterly blank features some -expression which I had not perceived? The count, at any rate, turned at -once toward me, and said: - -“Monsieur, we are almost ready. Think again, I beg of you. Is there -really nothing you would like before the operation begins? Is there -anything we can do for you within the limits you now know? Our earnest -wish is to satisfy your slightest desire, if possible; and we hope you -will enable us to demonstrate our best good will!” - -I was about to shake my head from right to left, in sign of refusal, -when an idea flashed across my mind, setting my whole being afire with -a sudden glow. I checked myself, my eyes fixed upon my interlocutor, -one hand raised, my lips opening to form a word. - -“Do not hesitate, Monsieur,” the count encouraged. - -“Gentlemen,” said I, with decision, and sweeping all three of them -with a rapid glance, “Gentlemen, there is one favor you could do me, -a favor which I trust you will have no difficulty in according, such -immense store do I set upon it. Grant me this boon I ask, and I am -ready to repay you not with my passive consent merely, but with my most -active and sincere assistance in whatever you intend to do with me--be -it even against my life. Look, gentlemen: some time ago you allowed -me, did you not, to visit the room where my friend Madame de X.... is -sleeping, perhaps in an hypnotic trance. My desire, my fervent prayer -is to see her ... once more ... for one last time; but I must see her -natural self, awake, that is, conscious, living, so that I may speak -to her and hear her speak to me, that I may bid her farewell, forever, -and spend one short hour alone, alone, with her. An hour, yes, just -one hour. Then ... I shall be at your service, your man, your chattel, -anything you wish, for as long a time as you wish.” - -I fell silent, crossing my arms upon my chest. Neither the count nor -the vicomte replied for a moment; and I could see them consulting each -other out of the corners of their eyes. Then, as they had so often done -before, they turned toward their respective father and grandfather, and -questioned him in silence. Again there was no change that I could see -on that inert and expressionless countenance; and the old man’s eyelids -remained firmly closed. But the Count François must have seen something -that I did not see; for he addressed me straightway and without the -shadow of incertitude: - -“Monsieur,” said he, “your wish shall be granted. We will do as you -propose.” - -A thrill of undescribable emotion swept over me. The count meanwhile -held his gaze intently fixed upon his father’s face, interpreting to me -the decision he found written there: - -“Monsieur,” he repeated, “we shall do as you propose. We shall have -the honor of escorting you to the room where Madame de X.... is -sleeping. We shall leave you alone with her. As soon as we are gone, -she, according to your request, will regain consciousness, and you will -be free to converse with her on any subject without any restriction -whatsoever. Do not be surprised, Monsieur. During your visit Madame -de X.... will be her material self, awake, conscious, living, as you -have asked. She will know that you are there, and she will be glad to -see you. But of course she will still have over her eyes the invisible -blinder that we have placed upon them. She will not know where she -is, and will not find it extraordinary to be meeting you in a strange -room. Indeed it will not be strange to her. She will take it for her -own or for yours. She will, in short, be unaware of everything which -the vital interest of the Ever-living Men requires her not to know. -Supposing, for example, you were to spend your time and pains in trying -to enlighten this beneficent unconsciousness of hers. You will not -succeed, I warn you in advance, for, at the end of the sixtieth minute, -Madame de X.... will fall asleep again, as we have bargained, and will -lose all memory of this talk with you, which memory will be erased from -her mind, rendered absolutely null and nil forever ... Monsieur, will -you be so kind as to step this way?...” - -He was already on the threshold, and, with the younger man leading, he -crossed the same anteroom again. I followed close behind him. I am sure -I staggered as I walked along. - -Outside the badly jointed door, the familiar perfume that I loved came -to my nostrils in warm subtle waves of fragrance. I thought I was -fainting as I breathed it in. - -“Monsieur,” the Count François was now saying in a low voice, -“Monsieur, for the duration of one hour, please consider this your -house!” - - - - -XVIII - - -She was still asleep, lost in that terrible slumber which, assuredly -was more like death than like life. Her black eyelids, her livid lips, -her ashen cheeks, her cold flesh, I scanned vehemently for some faint, -deep-seated flush that would bespeak the coursing of a little blood, at -least, through a few of her arteries.... In vain! In vain! - -An endless minute passed. I had bent forward over the bed to gaze -upon her, not daring to stir the coverlets with the merest touch of -my fingers. Finally, from her sunken chest the sound of stronger -breathing seemed to come; and simultaneously on both her cheeks I could -distinguish the pallid but reassuring blush I had waited for, so long, -so ardently.... - -What now took place was like a swift, miraculous resurrection. Her -whole countenance regained its color gradually, her pulse beat more -strongly, her beautiful breast began to raise the comforters in a -regular rhythmic heaving. I lowered my head till my face almost rested -on her eyelids, my lips ready to welcome with a kiss the first opening -of her eyes; I could feel the vital warmth again returning to her -forehead and cheeks. She sighed inaudibly and her lips sketched a -smile. I could restrain my caress no longer. It was under a passionate -shower of kisses from me that she returned to consciousness.... - -Oh gods of Heaven and Hell! All this was but a few weeks ago! Yet how -many ages have died, how many aeons have sunk into eternity, since that -kiss was mine? - -She said: - -“Oh, I have been asleep!... And you were here, saucy boy!” - -She knotted her silken arms about my neck; and I felt her body--how -light, how alarmingly light it was!--stiffen a little as she drew -herself up languidly under the coverlets.... - -She also said: - -“Dearest, dearest love!... Oh, how tired I am!... It seems as though -I could never again lift my head or stir a finger!... Never, never -again!... But you love your poor little girl, don’t you?... Look out, -Monsieur! Perhaps your doll is broken!...” - -She said no more--just then; because my lips had smothered her last -words. - -As she sat up, I piled the pillows behind her. Her hair of greenish -gold poured in a sparkling torrent down over her body. Her white -arms still encircled my neck. She laughed--that laugh of mischievous -girlish gaiety which I had always so much adored in her. I released -myself from her embrace; and resting a knee upon the bed, and throwing -an arm around her wonderful shoulders, I plunged my gaze into the -bright lucid depths of her eyes.... And I forgot, I forgot, everything, -everything!... - -She said: - -“Why, my hair is all down! I seem to have lost every comb, every pin to -my name!” And she laughed aloud. - -I listened with all my soul. - -She drew up higher on the pillows, with an effort that brought the -pallor to her face again. She cast a nervous glance about the room. I -was afraid lest she perceive the bare walls, the grated window, the -single wicker chair--afraid lest, perceiving them, she take fright -at her strange surroundings, and kill the smile of trustfulness and -confidence that lingered entrancingly on her lips.... But no! The -invisible blinder was securely fastened upon her eyes. She saw nothing -unusual in that chamber which was our prison. - -She asked simply: - -“What time is it? Surely not yet seven o’clock?” - -When I answered I too summoned a smile: - -“It’s early still, my silly, charming, little girl....” - -With a toss of her head, she shook from her face a few golden tresses -that had strayed there--they shone with all the splendor of the -sun--and sinking back deliciously upon the pillows, on which her light, -her exceedingly light form left scarcely any imprint, she observed: - -“I’m glad of that ... I can stay in bed a moment longer.... If I -overslept, I might be late for dinner.... How tired I am! If you only -knew how tired, tired, tired I am!” - -She did not move again, but lay there passively, happily, submissive to -the kisses which I rained upon her, though barely pressing my lips to -her tortured wasted flesh. - -No, I would tell her nothing! I would be very careful not to tell -her anything! She did not suspect in the least. And what an immense -good fortune that she did not know! Why enlighten her, indeed? No! -My despair, my terror, my mortal danger, that must all remain for me -alone! And she would never, never know! Since I was alone condemned, -I alone would bear the horrors of my destiny. She, free, unknowing, -redeemed, would be on her way back ... toward life! I alone would stay -behind, silently turning my footsteps toward ... nonentity!... But -for my silence I would be repaid with one supreme reward; the almost -unbearable intoxication of this last love tryst, which would come to me -pure, spotless, undisturbed, without a shadow of any kind upon it.... - -She was becoming more and more wakeful, and now was chatting with a -ripple of words, words of no import, that entered like little gleams of -freedom into the darkness of our prison. - -She said: - -“Imagine, dearest! At my dressmaker’s last Tuesday....” - -And later on: - -“You know very well whom I mean! Marie Thérèse, the ugly thing! I saw -her! She was making up to you under my very nose, at the Squadron -Ball....” - -And again: - -“The next time we go for a ride....” - -I, meanwhile, kept drawing my two hands down caressingly over her -silky hair and silky arms, hungrily absorbing every possible sensation -of that living reality which was in her as her very self.... And I -thought.... What was I, indeed, but a corpse, listening from the depths -of a grave to living beings conversing on the sod overhead ...? - -Yes, a corpse.... - -My gaze was fixed upon her bright sea-green eyes, and upon her -delicate, gaily chirping lips; and within me was a scream of desperate -anguish! - -“You, you are my destroyer ... you! You crossed my path, and I followed -you; and you guided me, almost by the hand, to the yawning gateway -of the tomb! Yes, that was true: a will-o’-the-wisp of the deadliest -lineage, leading the luckless wayfarer blindly to destruction! And -I succumbed! Everything is lost ... for me! But now ... can’t you -see, can’t you feel, my agony? You are gay? You laugh? You chatter? -Is it not written on my face, is it not written in my heart, that I -am doomed, that I shall never, never more set eyes upon you? Yes, it -is all written there--my love, my fate, my death! And if you fail to -read, it is because you know not how to read; and if you know not -how to read, it is because you do not love. Oh my dear lost love! Oh -my fragile Goddess! You do not love me ... so you will not miss me, -overmuch.... You will find another man to love.... Youth will erase -unhappy memories.... You will begin life anew ... life anew! Better -thus! Much better thus! I ... I love you! I am saving you! I love you!” - -And this last phrase I pronounced aloud, as though I were answering in -those three words all that she had been saying to me: - -“I love you ...!” - -She stopped, and looked at me in astonishment. Then she burst into a -gay laugh: - -“You love me? You love me? Thanks, Monsieur! If ever you dared say you -didn’t ...!” - -To punish me, she drew my head down teasingly, and pressed her lips to -mine, in a kiss that lasted ... that lasted, till I knew no more.... - -When her clasp relaxed, I sat up again. She had sunk gently back upon -the pillows. - -Suddenly her eyelids quivered. - -“Oh!” she said; “how that kiss fatigued me! Dearest, it cannot be seven -o’clock? Won’t you tell me that I needn’t get up? I’m so tired! So -tired! It can’t be sev....” - -She collapsed suddenly upon the pillows, her eyes closed. - -The door behind me opened. - - - - -XXIX - - -“Monsieur,” said the Marquis Gaspard to me, “it was a great pleasure to -be able to allow you this hour you so much desired. I hope it came up -fully to your expectations.” - -He was standing in the center of the large hall to which I had just -returned--taller he seemed to me than formerly, with a carriage more -erect and eyes agleam with a brighter, more imperious flame. - -The candles along the wall had been put out; only the two lamps to -the right and left of the fireplace were still lighted, and the Count -François was busy lowering the wicks of these. - -“Monsieur,” the marquis continued, “will you not kindly take your place -for what we still have to do?” - -He pointed to the deep chair in which he himself had been resting -before I left the room. - -I was anxious to betray no uneasiness whatever. I advanced without -hesitation to the seat appointed and calmly sat down. - -“Antoine!” the count called. - -I was in that one of the two chairs which seemed nearest to the great -lens. Facing me, and some ten or twelve paces away was the other -seat, its arms opening toward me. It was empty. The stuffed cushions -on the back of my chair, of the seat, arms and head-rest, seemed to -accommodate my body perfectly; so that I was not conscious of any -weight or fatigue at all. I stiffened nevertheless when I saw what the -Vicomte Antoine was about to do. At his father’s call, the younger man -stepped forward in my direction carrying in his hand a sort of dark -lantern, much larger than the one which had lighted our path over the -mountains. - -“Look out! Look out, Monsieur!” he called, noticing that I had fixed my -eyes in some alarm upon him. “Turn your head the other way, or you may -be blinded.” - -He slipped the shutter over the spot-light aside. I was bathed from -head to foot in a harsh raw light which was all the more painful from -the relative darkness of the rest of the room. I closed my eyes at -first. When I opened them again, I avoided the stream of radiance that -was turned upon me, and looked past it to one side, toward the lens and -the empty chair beyond the latter. - -Despite my efforts to control myself, I trembled, stupidly trembled, -at what I saw. The chair was no longer empty; someone, or rather, -something, was occupying it--the luminous shadow of a man seated, -a shadow of myself, in fact. Of this I furnished proof at once by -raising my arm, a movement which the shadow repeated with absolute -fidelity. Now I understood; the hypothesis I had formed when the lens -was first brought out was the correct one; the second chair was fixed -on the spot where the image of the other chair, passing through the -lens, would fall. The moment a vivid light was thrown upon me in that -darkened room, my image became visible over there. There was nothing -so mysterious in all that so far. I was somewhat ashamed of my first -quiver of fright. - -After a second or so, the vicomte closed his lantern again, and the -image disappeared. Then only did I remember something very strange, -which at first had not occurred to me. If the apparatus nearby were an -ordinary lens, my image, as I had just observed it, should have been -upside down, my feet above my head. Now such was not the case. It was -right side up, a thing which I could not account for then, and have not -been able to account for since. - -Meanwhile, there had been a question, delivered in the shrill falsetto -of the marquis: - -“Is the image clear?” - -The vicomte’s low-pitched voice responded: - -“Perfectly, Monsieur!” - -I had let my head fall back against the prop behind it; and it half -buried itself in the upholstery, which sustained its weight so evenly -and firmly that I am sure I could have fainted and yet still have kept -to the same position without bending my neck. The field of my vision -was proportionately reduced, however: I could see no one now except the -Count François, who was still watching his lamps, turning them by this -time so low that a faint blue flicker only was visible around the wicks. - -The marquis asked another question, and this time of me: - -“Monsieur, you are well seated in your chair, quite comfortable, quite -relaxed? It is very important that you should be, I caution you!” - -I tested the springs and mattressing: - -“I think I am all right,” I answered briefly. - -As I replied, I touched my fingers to the covering of the _dormeuse_ -about me. It was not satin, nor velvet, as I had supposed; but a kind -of silk so closely woven that I guessed it to be for purposes of -insulation. Leaning over I now noticed also for the first time that the -four legs of my chair were shod with glass. - -When I sat up again, I saw the Marquis Gaspard standing in front of me. - -“Monsieur,” said he, with the very greatest gentleness in his manner -and tone of voice, “Monsieur, the dawn will soon be upon us. We can -delay no longer now. You are quite sure you have no objection to our -beginning?” - -One last wave of anguished rebellion gathered in my throat, and choked -me. Nevertheless, I shook my head impatiently, to indicate that I had -no objection whatever. - -“That is better than I dared hope,” the marquis exclaimed; “I cannot -tell how grateful to you I am!” - -He was looking at me with an emotion that quite surprised me. Visibly -affected, and with some hesitation, he resumed: - -“Monsieur, there is one thought which I cannot bear your having even -for a single moment: the thought that you have fallen, this night, into -the hands of heartless, inhuman men.” - -I stared at him coldly without answering. - -“The operation I am about to try on you,” he resumed, “is something -absolutely new. I advise you with the utmost frankness that it is a -very dangerous one, though it is not, unfortunately, in my power to -avoid it. The best I can guarantee is that you will not suffer much -pain. To add just one more chance that the issue will be favorable, I -have decided not to put you to sleep; though the experiment conducted -under such conditions will cost me a far greater effort, and much more -physical suffering. But if you are awake, with your nerves and muscles -at normal tension, you will be better able to withstand the loss of -substance you must undergo.” - -He inclined his head to one side, his cheeks resting on three of his -fingers. - -“I wonder ...” said he, in a voice somewhat changed in tone. - -“I was just thinking,” he began again. “Without any doubt you have -papers on your person addressed to you under your name, your former -name, that is.... Yes! And a pocket book perhaps?... Exactly.... Would -you be so very, very kind as to entrust them all to me?... They might -interfere with our results....” - -Without comment, I unbuttoned my coat and thrust a hand into my inside -pocket. I found there my card case, with a number of visiting cards, my -road maps, two or three blank envelopes, and finally, crumpled through -my haste in putting it away, the letter--the letter of the colonel of -artillery. I handed them all to the marquis. - -“I thank you!” said he. - -The fold of his thin mouth grew deeper, and his tone was now one of -great solemnity: - -“Monsieur,” said he, “everything is ready now. My last request is that -you be kind enough, in view of the fact that you will retain your -consciousness, to relax completely, not only every sinew of your -body but every tension of mind and will. Try to play ‘dead,’ if I may -say such a thing. Play you are sound asleep. Notice, Monsieur, that I -attach great importance to these suggestions, which, you can rely upon -it, are made in the best interests of us both.” - -I acquiesced with a slight arching of my brow. - -He saluted me with his most correct and formal bow: - -“That is all, Monsieur,” said he; “Farewell!” - - - - -XXX - - -He had disappeared. - -But a moment later I was conscious of his presence close behind me. I -knew that he was standing there, his eyes fixed upon me; for between my -neck and shoulders I could feel a weight, an impact, like the one I had -experienced when the Vicomte Antoine found me lying on the heath, and -the one with which the Count François welcomed me on my entrance into -the House of the Secret.... - -Like these, I say ... but no! The present pressure was something -incomparably heavier and more forceful--a veritable succession of -hammer blows descending upon me with a violence that left me bruised -and dazed. - -Then suddenly ... everything began to go round and round--an -overpowering dizziness assailed me. The lens of the golden sparkles, -the armchair opposite me, the clock in the corner, the antique chest -against the wall, all seemed to be caught up in a cyclonic whirl of -which I was the tottering, collapsing center. In spite of the downy -prop behind my head and the cushions that contained me all around, I -seemed to be falling, falling, or soaring, soaring; and my frenzied -fingers clutched the arms of my chair, which, to my sense, now plunged -into bottomless depths, now darted upwards to impossible heights, -rocking frightfully meanwhile and even turning completely over and -around. A measureless void was all about me, and my single intelligent -thought was one of surprise that I was not hurtling into this gulf of -nothingness. - -An atrocious torture, but a short one! A deadening stupor came over me -progressively, first relieving and finally overcoming my dizziness. My -sensation now was one of extreme fatigue, more exhausting than any I -had ever before experienced. My head especially seemed emptied of all -its cerebral substance as a result of the first shocks I had received; -and it lay helpless, lifeless, in its hollow formed in the upholstery. -A whimsical interest in what time it might possibly be came to obsess -me. I remember that I could hardly move my eyes when I tried to turn -them toward the clock; and if I did succeed eventually in focussing -them on that point, I could not read the clock’s hands, so dark and -murky had my eyeballs become, so insensitive my retina. - -A curious tingling began at the ends of my fingers and toes, and spread -upwards into my hands and arms, and into my feet and legs. It was like -the beginning of a cramp. - -But the cramp did not come. What I felt rather was a kind of chill. But -neither was this a clearly defined sensation, so rapid, so confused, -were the changes and variations in my impressions. It was, on the -whole, as though my body were disintegrating little by little, being -torn apart, filling meanwhile with a strange liquid, lighter than -blood, in which all my organs, freed from their muscles and tendons, -seemed to be afloat and drifting. - -The conviction came over me that I was about to die.... - - * * * * * * * * * - -It were better not to resume my story! - -My pencil has been lying idle for a long time. Here on this marble slab -is the black-bordered register. I hesitate.... I cast my eyes around.... - -The noon-day sun is gilding the tips of the cypress trees, while -through their stiffened branches the winter wind is playing fitfully. -Not a cloud is visible in that cold blue sky. Despite the torpor that -besets the arid marrow of my bones, I feel almost a thrill of joy at -the splendor of this last day of mine.... - -Yes, it were better to stop my story here! - -Why write on? No one will believe me! Indeed I myself almost doubt the -reality of this fabulous, this impossible, this incredible experience! -If I were not here in this place, if I could not read the fateful, -irrevocable epitaph graven on this stone on which my elbows rest--if -I could not run my palsied fingers through this long snow-white -beard--no, I would not believe, I would not believe! I would say rather -that I were dreaming, that I were raving in some ghastly mad obsession. - -But the proof, the proof is there! I cannot hold my peace! I must -finish the narrative I have begun. All men, all women--my brothers and -sisters--are in danger! I must save them! - -O you who read this my confession, this my last will and -testament,--for the love of your God, if you have one, do not doubt me! -But read, understand, believe! - - * * * * * * * * * - -Yes, I thought I was about to die. - -The strange tingling, now the only sensation which I could isolate -with any distinctness, was running through my whole body, from the -tips of my toes to the tips of my hair. It was no longer like the -first symptoms of a cramp, as it had been at the beginning. No, it was -something more regular in beat, more enthralling in power. It caused -my mind to revert to Madeleine and the morning rides we used to take -together; to our picnics in the forest clearings, to a fondness she -had for burying her naked arms in the ground so that I could compare -the feeling of the smooth warm sand with that of her smooth warm skin. -Through my half-opened fingers I would strain the minute grains and -as they fell they made a faint continuous sound that I remember for -its peculiarity. Such a sound I was hearing now; but it came not from -between my fingers, but from under my skin, from inside my flesh--the -murmur of an invisible sand which my veins and nerves were sweeping -along their channels in a full, regular, unbroken flow, from my heart -and my other internal organs toward my hands and toward my feet. This -strange flood became a rushing torrent about my wrists and ankles, -and around the joints of my fingers--narrow passages which confined, -condensed, cramped the current. But it went beyond my own extremities, -far beyond! How far I could not say. I know simply that my fingers -and toes were at once moist and chilled, like vessels of unglazed -pottery which give off water drop by drop and become ice-cold from -evaporation.... - -And all the time, on the back of my head and between my shoulders, I -could feel blow after blow in furious succession, blows which I know -came from the all-powerful eyes of the old marquis, who stood there -relentlessly raining them upon me. - -I grew weaker still. A few moments before I had tried vainly to look at -the clock against the wall. Now even my eyelids were paralyzed. I could -not close my eyes nor could I turn them. They were glued inexorably -upon the objects directly in front of them--the translucent lens (the -golden glints in its substance glowing now mysteriously); the armchair -where, for a second, I had glimpsed the seated image of myself; -beyond, a bit of white-washed wall--all blending in a blurred whirling -confusion. - -As second followed on second I thought I could feel more and more of my -life flowing silently out of my wasting body.... - -Then suddenly, something extraordinary occurred; and I was so shocked -by it that I managed, calling on I know not what reserves of energy, -to open my eyes a little wider and to clear their vision by winking my -eyelids several times. - -In the chair where I had before seen my own image seated, now I -could see, clearly, distinctly, beyond any possible doubt whatever, -beyond any chance of its being an hallucination--I could see with an -unspeakable overwhelming certitude--another image, likewise seated, -another image also made of light, but of a different kind of light--a -sort of fluctuating phosphorescent shadow which was gradually taking -form ... out of nothing.... - - - - -XXXI - - -... taking form from nothing.... - -At first it could hardly be said to exist at all ... something -more tenuous than a shadow ... as transparent as glass ... all the -particulars of the chair visible through it--covering, head-rest, -arms and back ... something formless, colorless ... a sort of pallid -luminousness hazy in outline, changing in texture, suggesting the vague -fluorescence in a Gessler tube.... - -Yet something, nevertheless, something more certainly real than the -image I had seen shortly before--the image of myself refracted through -the lens ... something material, tangible, ponderable ... as I could -sense, as I could feel, as I knew with a conviction that excluded all -doubt ... something living, perhaps! - -Living, certainly! Yes, something alive; for now, inside the tissue, -inside the substance of this luminous something, I thought I could see -... I could see ... I could see with absolute distinctness ... a sort -of web, a veritable network of veins and nerves ... outlined in light -... in light brighter than the light of the thing itself ... and along -those nerves and through those veins, rushing, streaming, leaping in -regular pulsations, a phosphorescent liquid ... all coming from one -center ... and that center ... a heart! - -I could see ... but the testimony of my eyes was nothing ... my -senses, my feelings, my very consciousness ... told me, convinced me, -assured me, that that shadow was alive.... Of its life I had the same -perception that I had of my own life. I could feel the beating of that -heart, as I could feel the beating of my own heart; and I could feel, -the streaming of that phosphorescent blood in those arteries of light -as I could feel my own red blood in my own arteries of flesh.... Then -at last I knew.... - -I knew that that Something, that that Presence, that that Being was -taking form, not from nothing, but from me. Not only was it from me; it -was my very very Self. - -From the depths of my weakness and of my agony, from the abyss of -mortal terror in which my consciousness and my intelligence had been -engulfed, that one persuasion rose--a clear, clear comprehension of -all that had been explained, suggested, threatened in words that had -hitherto seemed so obscure to me.... - -Yes, that Shadow there was I, that Shadow sitting in the chair -before me, that Shadow of pallid light that was already losing its -transparency! - - * * * * * * * * * - -I lost my hold on the wisp of sentience to which I had been clinging. -Weakness overcame me. Sight faded from my eyes, and hearing from my -ears. A black opaque veil descended over me, enshrouding me, burying -me. I became as one dying, dying ... dead. - - * * * * * * * * * - -Later, I know not how much later, but after, I think, a long, long -time, I came to myself again. - -And when I came to myself again, all the life that I had lived before -I sank into that deathly slumber, seemed to have receded into a past -infinitely, eternally remote, a past more ancient than all the ages. - -A pair of cold hands was pressing on my temples. I could feel drops of -water trickling down my face. They came from a wet handkerchief that -had been drawn tight across my brow. I knew that the Count François was -standing in front of me, and that he was working to bring me back to -consciousness. - -A sigh forced its way through my lips. My eyes opened. I stretched my -fingers that had gripped the two arms of my chair.... - -The count removed his hands from my temples. - -He wiped my forehead dry. - -He went away. - -Then I saw.... - -I saw, in the chair opposite me, seated, a Man. - -A Man like me, exactly like me, like me to the last detail: myself. - -I looked at him, and I was not sure whether he or I were I. And I -was not sure whether we were two men, or one man in two persons. I -raised--how painfully!--an arm; and I succeeded in raising it because -now it had become as light as gauze. I raised an arm, I say, to see -whether the other Man, the other I, would be forced, by what I did, to -do the same, to raise an arm that is, the arm that I raised. But no! I -moved: and he did not. So then ... there were two of us: I and a Man: -two different men, separate, distinct Beings. - -Distinct, separate, and yet, unquestionably, two parts of one whole, a -single whole; and all my flesh, all my wasted rarefied substance cried -out desiringly toward that other flesh, that other substance that had -been torn from me, “exteriorized” from me. - -Another Man: a Man, and not a shadow, and not a ghost! No spectral -trappings; no sheets, no shrouds! Clothes! A riding suit, exactly -like my riding suit. I looked at the clothes I was wearing. I had just -bought them new. Now they were old, worn out, threadbare.... As old, as -worn, as threadbare as I myself! - -Alas! Alas! Why, why am I writing still? I know that you who read will -not believe.... But I tell you I am not insane! Would a madman talk as -I talk? Another thing: I am about to die; and a man does not cross the -threshold of Eternity with falsehood on his lips.... Two good reasons -for not doubting my veracity.... - -Alas! Alas! I know ... I know ... why should I go on ...? - - * * * * * * * * * - -Nevertheless.... - - - - -XXXII - - -... the Man got up from his chair and walked toward the door. - -I saw that He walked with my walk. When He arose, I had felt in the -muscles of my hips and back, a sudden stiffening as though I too were -making an effort to rise from my chair. Each of his strides thereafter -caused rapid contractions of the muscles in my thighs, in the calves of -my legs, at my ankles. - -He stopped at the door into the anteroom, and stood there with his hand -on the latch. - -And I heard the voice of the Marquis Gaspard speaking, a voice I could -scarcely recognize, so faint, so broken, so husky had it become--a -breathing rather than a voice. - -It said: - -“The papers!” - -The towering figure of the Vicomte Antoine came between the Man and me. -Nevertheless I could see, I know not how, that into the Man’s pocket -the vicomte was slipping my purse and the letter from the colonel of -artillery. - -“He has them!” the vicomte said. - -The Man opened the door and went away. - - * * * * * * * * * - -Now I say that when He was in the antechamber, separated from me by -a thick partition, I could see Him still ... not exactly through the -partition; nor could I, exactly, see Him with my own eyes ... but, as -it were, with another pair of eyes which went along with Him, and did -not leave Him any more than my eyes left me.... With these latter eyes -I could see Him more clearly, more distinctly than with my own eyes. - -And when He had left the antechamber, and was out there in the garden, -under the trees of the thickly matted branches, I could see Him still. -And when He had left the garden and was out there on the heath--there -where the plants and trees grew sparse and stunted ... I could see Him -still.... - -Once more, for one last time, the falsetto of the Marquis Gaspard -grated on my ears; and I sensed that he was mustering all the fainting -sonorousness of his throat and lungs for a last irrevocable declaration. - -“Monsieur,” I heard him say, “Monsieur, that Man you saw, that Man -who has just departed ... be my witness that I created Him ... as God -created me. And having created Him I have the same right to destroy Him -that God has to destroy me ... if He is able!” - -The voice died out.... - - - - -XXXIII - - -And I could see Him still.... - -He was walking rapidly, slipping through the underbrush with surprising -ease. And I thought of Madeleine, whom I had seen six hours ... six -centuries?... before ... gliding in that same way over the same rough -ground. - -The dawn was streaking the eastern sky; but the valleys behind the -screen of mountains were still sunk in darkness. Nevertheless I could -see Him still.... Though to see Him was like touching Him. Those -supernatural moving eyes with which I was following Him step by step, -those miraculous eyes attached to his flesh doubtless because his flesh -was my flesh ... those infallible eyes which made me see with absolute -distinctness ... were like two hands ... feeling rather than seeing. - -The Man was getting farther and farther away, walking very rapidly now. -Around Him I could dimly see the enormous blocks of stone with the -smooth hewn faces, those monoliths of geometrical design, rising naked -from the soil, which had astonished me on my own passage through them. -In that labyrinth the Man did not hesitate at all, but hurried on his -way with the same certainty as before.... - -Around my ankles now I could feel the scratching of the juniper and -the briar ... as though it were I and not He whom the thorns were -tearing.... And as He kept walking, I grew fatigued, more and more -fatigued, till a sharp pain caught me in the joints of my hips and -knees.... - -The Man was beyond the labyrinth of stones, advancing along the deep -ravines and precipices which also I recognized from having followed the -same path six hours before. Not far from there, indeed, the spotlight -of my guide had lighted the faint trail, his cane beating to right -and left to open the way before me. Those very brambles that were now -scratching the Man’s legs and my legs.... - - * * * * * * * * * - -My cries of “Mercy! Mercy!” had worn me out. - - * * * * * * * * * - -The Man stopped suddenly. - -The glow of sunrise had now climbed to the zenith. The whole landscape -was bathed in a pale but brightening light. A clump of tall ferns -appeared, masking the precipitous wall of a ravine. - -The Man stopped, folded his arms, and leaned forward. I leaned forward -with Him. - -A precipice was there, the precipice on the brink of which I had -earlier been moved to terror. I recognized it, as I had recognized -the labyrinth of monoliths, the region of ravines and precipices, the -thickets of juniper and briar. I recognized the same smooth wall of the -chasm, the same white stones of the river bed over which the deep black -water was rushing in a torrent.... And I recognized the same nauseating -chill of vertigo. - -In the strip of bright sky along the eastern horizon, a first splash of -red, the color of blood, marked the oncoming of the sun.... - -I was striving to master that nausea, that vertigo, when an atrocious -snap of all my muscles hurled me violently from my chair, hurled me -into the air as a diver is tossed from a spring-board. Weak as I -was, exhausted, prostrate, my muscles contracted with such desperate -violence that I was thrown up up through the air, to fall two, three, -four yards from my chair, which was thrown over backwards by the push I -gave it. - -I fell ... I fell ... my head and arms thrown forward ... and I lost -consciousness again. - -I lost consciousness again; but not before I had had time to see the -Man likewise hurled headforemost into the abyss, where He fell, and -fell, and fell, to be dashed to death on the white boulders under the -black rushing water.... - - - - -XXXIV - - -Thereafter ... I know not what ... I knew nothing more.... - -Morning ... morning, and raining still. Through the grated window of my -bedroom-prison, a sticky viscous light was making its way. I was lying -on the bed. When I awakened, I tried to rise on my elbow to look around -me. I could not: I had not the strength. - -But suddenly I could see ... I could see, in another place.... - -Rushing water ... tall green reeds ... moss ... a lofty, vertical wall -of rock ... white cobblestones washed by a tumbling stream ... and, on -the jagged point of a boulder, a corpse, my corpse, me.... - -I could see that my clothing was soaked, the water covering my breast -and shoulders, and filling my wide opened eyes.... But I did not feel -the cold liquid contact of the stream, nor the chilling north wind, -laden with rain, that was beating upon my back and legs which were out -of water on the narrow bank of the torrent there. I could feel nothing. -I was dead. I mean to say that the Man was dead, that Man who was, and -still is, I. I could see a large red hole in the back of his head--the -wound made by the rock He struck, the wound through which his life had -spurted away.... The back of my head ... of me who was lying there on -that bed in that chamber ... pained me terribly. - - * * * * * * * * * - -So I lay there, inert. Several times I tried to move. Move I could not; -nor was there anything I could do. Through the half-opened window the -resinous fragrance of rain-soaked fir-trees came. For a moment, they -entered the room--the Count François and the Vicomte Antoine, I mean. -They examined me, felt my pulse, my legs and arms, the back of my head. -But soon they went out again. I was left alone. - - * * * * * * * * * - -All that I have just been telling even then belonged to the distant -past, a past fabulously remote. - -I was lying on the bed, inert, watching my dead body awash in the -stream. I tried to remember what had happened.... - -Yes ... I fell.... I was bending over the edge to peer into the depths -of the chasm ... and a heavy blow struck me between the shoulders -... one of those blows such as I had several times received between -the shoulders ... and on the back of my head ... blows from the -overwhelming gaze of those old men ... of the old marquis ... which had -pounded me to pulp. - -So then, I was watching the dead body ... my dead body.... Carrion -already old! Flies swarming on and over it. The torrent foaming around -and against it--and running water erodes, dissolves, disintegrates!... -Yes, carrion indeed!... The coffin maker must come soon, or little will -be left for him!... - - * * * * * * * * * - -Carrion already old! - -But not so old as my living body--that too was old, limitlessly aged! - -Was I as old as this, a little while before? Or had the sun merely -stopped in the heavens? And if so, how long? For many many years? I -could not say.... - - * * * * * * * * * - -I remember, yes ... I fainted.... I lost consciousness completely. -When I fell over the cliff ... my head and my hands struck hard on the -tiled floor ... the Ever-living Men probably brought me to the room -and put me on that bed.... Perhaps the rushing water of the stream, or -the rain, or the winter wind turned me so old.... One cannot help but -change ... lying out in the weather!... - -Old! old, old! And older, older, every minute, every second! - -My hand went to my chin.... A beard was beginning to appear there.... -It was growing rapidly ... a gray beard.... As I passed a hand over my -temples, I could feel deep wrinkles there. - -Three times the door of my chamber opened partly, and I could see the -faces of the Ever-living Men peering in at me attentively. On each -occasion I feigned sleep, closing my eyes.... But not entirely.... My -eyelids were far enough apart for me to spy on what they did.... They -did nothing.... But this I saw ... I saw that they were astounded ... -plainly, evidently astounded at the age, the sudden age that had come -over me.... - - * * * * * * * * * - -I lay there inert.... - -What time was it, I wondered? What day of the week? What month of the -year? And the year--was it of the era of our Lord? - -My beard was gray at first. Now it had whitened. It had grown broad -and long.... Thus do beards and hair grow on the bodies of the dead, -I thought. The flesh seemed to have left my hands. Through the dry -darkened skin that covered them I could feel brittle knotted bones.... - -Was the sun setting? It was growing dark in my bedroom-prison. Only a -faltering light was now making its way through the grated window. And -the water rushed foaming, whirling along, black and green, around my -corpse ... softened the latter seemed ... mushy, gluey, loathesome.... - - * * * * * * * * * - -Yes, night was coming on.... Again the Living Men entered to visit me -... the father and the son I mean.... The grandfather was not with -them.... He was out of sight and hearing.... They came and stood at my -bedside, looking at me for a long time, visibly preoccupied, visibly -alarmed.... - -They went away again, and still without a word. On the tripod -candlestick, the candelabrum of the three crossed lances, three candles -were burning brightly now ... three points of flame for the three long -shafts.... Darkness was creeping down the chasm.... The water was -moaning black in the on-coming night. - - * * * * * * * * * - -Ho! Ho-ho! What was that? Torches in my chamber! And voices shouting! -Ah no! Not in my chamber ... down there, along the stream ... up on -the cliffs, above the chasm.... Down there, of course! What could I -have been thinking of? - -Torches on the brink of the abyss.... Faces peering into the black -void.... Uniforms! Red trousers, blue coats.... And a stretcher.... A -good idea! A good idea!... Of course! Of course! For me, for me! - -Voices calling. An oath or two. A voice louder than the others bidding -these be silent. I heard everything distinctly. Yes, every word. - -“But I see him, I tell you! Look, there he is! Down in that hole! Gotta -get down there someway!” - -“Watch your step, boy! What a hole!” - -“What the hell! I done worse places than this before.... The Devil -roast my soul! Stinks a bit, this fellow! Whew!” - -“Aw go on, what are you giving us!” - -“But I say, Sergeant, he’s rotten!” - -“What do you mean, rotten! Can’t have been there more than twelve -hours!” - -“All right.... I can’t say how long he’s been here.... But I know -rotten beef when I smell it.... Guess it’s from being in the water! -Say, just chuck that piece of canvas down.... We’ll pass it under him -and draw up the four corners.... This is no man ... just soup! Easier -to spoon him up with a ladle!” - -“Damn it, man ... what have you found? Somebody else? Take a squint at -him.... We’ve got to get the right man! What’s he got in his pockets?” - -“Sticky damn mess! Whew! But here we are! Our man, all right! Yes! -Identification card! Other stuff with his name on it! And here’s his -revolver! Our man, Sergeant, no doubt of that. How about that rag! -Sending it down?” - -“When you get him ready, you give the word and we’ll haul up!” - -“Righto! One, two, three, and you pull!... Well, I’ll be damned!” - -“What’s worrying you now?” - -“Why this here corpse! Weighs about an ounce and a half!” - -“What’s that? Lord, if he’s as far gone as that.... Say, give a look -around! Maybe you’ve left some on the rocks, a leg or an arm, or -something!” - -“No! Got everything, Sergeant, head and all! All right at the other -end?” - -“All right here!” - -“Well then up she goes!” ... - -“And now we’re off....” - - * * * * * * * * * - -“Hey, don’t shake the thing so much when you walk!” - -“Oh rats! Hell of a lot this bird cares whether there’s springs on his -hearse!” ... - - * * * * * * * * * - -I lay there inert.... - -I could feel the pressure and the scrape of the canvas on my head, and -legs and arms.... The litter went along jostling me.... I could see -everything, clearly ... the flickering of the torches there, and the -gleaming of the candles at the points of the three crossed lances.... - -Total darkness outside!... Not a ray of light coming through the grated -window. Not one last trace of twilight on the mountain trail.... - -The canvas tightened, and closed my eyes. There on the heath a shroud -of canvas! There in my room a shroud of slumber! Sleep! Another -death!... - - - - -XXXV - - -Dawn again.... I cannot see the new morning light; but I am conscious -of its approach. The grated window is still dark; but I am sure the -night is ending. Through the thick panes of glass, I feel a chill, the -harbinger of day. - -The three candles have burned low on the tips of the three lances. -Their wicks have curled in upon themselves, sinking into the last drops -of molten wax. Only a faint uncertain flame is sputtering from them now -and that bit of light threatens to go out at intervals. - - * * * * * * * * * - -Sleep seems to have done me good, giving me back some strength, however -little. - -“Could I sit up now, if I tried?” - -How long have I been here? Let’s figure it out, from the beginning, -from the beginning of my Adventure! Or rather, no ... let’s go backward -from today.... Today, yes ... sunrise ... there was a sunrise yesterday -... cold and rainy. That’s one day ... the day when I grew old so fast -... I got this way yesterday, between dawn and twilight!.... The night -before that, night before last ... I came to this House, the House of -the Secret.... Last night, and night before last. Yesterday between.... -Two nights and one day, in all.... - -One single day ... yet how deep these wrinkles, how withered the skin -on this aged face of mine! And these bristles on my face ... on my -cheeks and chin ... bristles white as snow, white as hoar-frost! One -day for them to grow ... just one day ... but a day that lies heavier -than a century upon my soul! Who will ever believe me when I tell this -story? No one! No one! - -Could I sit up, if I tried? But first, I must get rid of this sheet -that’s tied around me.... Trusses me all up, and I can’t move.... The -sheet? Where’s the sheet? Here’s a sheet; but it doesn’t seem to be -troubling me.... Where’s the ... ah, yes ... it’s the sheet on Him--on -the Man, I mean.... They have swathed Him in a sheet.... I can still -see.... I see.... So naturally ... natural, isn’t it?... I get things -mixed a little.... - - * * * * * * * * * - -Dawn ... no doubt about it now ... the oblong opening of the grated -window is pale with light. - - * * * * * * * * * - -I did not hear the door open.... I was caught by surprise. I had no -time to close my eyes. - -There they are again, the two of them, the Count François and the -Vicomte Antoine. They are looking at me.... And I can easily see, see -as easily as yesterday ... I can see they don’t know what to make of it -... don’t know what to make of me, that is. - - * * * * * * * * * - -“Monsieur, be so good as to get up, I beg of you.” It was the Count -François who spoke. - -And I arose, without the slightest difficulty. I was weak, very weak -indeed, but light, ever so light ... as light as the air about me.... - -The Count François spoke again: - -“Monsieur, my father is very tired today; he is in no condition to -leave his room. For that reason my son and I have come to ask you to go -with us to him.” - -I followed them.... What difference did it make to me whether I was in -one place or in another? - - * * * * * * * * * - -The old man, the Marquis Gaspard, I did not see.... A portière of -antique silk was standing in front of his bed, there in his chamber. Of -the bed I could see the four columns of carved wood which supported -the canopy. It was a square bed, without curtains.... That was all I -saw.... - -But I recognized the queer falsetto of the marquis, and the marvelously -gentle and persuasive tone his voice could assume, when it was not -hardened with wilfulness or soured with irony. - -The Living Man began to speak. I stood in the doorway listening.... -And as I listened, this worn-out memory of mine, a memory so wasted, -so decayed that one by one all my recollections of the good old days -have fallen away as dust from it, took in his every word so deeply, so -burningly, that I shall remember all he said till my course is wholly -run. - -He began to speak. He said: - -“Monsieur, I had greater hopes of my own magnetic resources and of -your powers of resistance. I cannot say I regret having done what I -did.... I did my duty.... Our security, our peace of mind, our probable -immortality could be conserved in no other way. Those at any rate are -now adequately safe-guarded, at the price simply of a somewhat greater -effort. But I should be much better satisfied had the experiment cost -you a fatigue as great as mine, without drawing so deeply on your vital -reserves. To be sure, I warned you that what we were about to do might -prove extremely dangerous. I feared for your life especially when the -moment would necessarily come for breaking the magnetic bond that -connected you with the Being I derived from your substance. I foresaw -also a great and cruel suffering on your part when I should kill, as I -was obliged to kill, this newly created Being. Now those two shocks you -withstood marvelously, Monsieur; but only to fall quite unexpectedly -for us, into the particular state of languor and exhaustion in which I -see you now. Monsieur, I am immensely, immensely sorry; and I trust you -will understand that, had it been within my power, I would have been -only too glad to leave you in a much stronger and sturdier state of -health!” - -A pause ... I drew back a step, with the idea of returning to my room. -But the voice began again, in a slower and more solemn tone. - -“Monsieur, since things are as they are, the simplest course for you is -to bow to the inevitable. But I venture to point out that the present -situation, bad as it is, is not without its advantage for you. The -objections we were obliged to put forward originally to your immediate -release obtain no longer. A favor we could not think of granting to the -man you were yesterday at this hour--a man robust of body and vigorous -of will, we are only too happy to accord to the man you are today--an -aged invalid, broken in body and weak from more weaknesses than one.... -Monsieur, you are, from this moment, free, a freedom without any -qualifications or restrictions whatsoever. As soon as you choose to say -so, my grandson will have the honor of showing you to our door. You may -go anywhere you wish. We ask only that you refrain from mentioning to -any living soul the things that you have seen during your stay in this -House. I am sure you will decide to say nothing of them.” - -Still I stood there listening. Somehow I was not at all surprised at -this offer of my freedom however unexpected. I stood there listening; -and I could feel the words I had heard sinking deeply into me, eating -their way into the substance of my brain to remain there with indelible -fixity.... I stood there listening.... - -Ah yes! I understand, I understand! From what I have been through, my -will, my intelligence, my reason, have all been rarefied, depleted. My -head is half emptied, as it were; and these sentences that are being -addressed to me, these orders that are being given me, this password -of silence that is being graven eternally upon my memory, all dictated -by another will, another intelligence, another reason, are to be -substituted in my brain by what is no longer there, for what has been -taken away, and made to fill the intolerable hollowness of my skull!... - -The falsetto voice concluded: - -“For the rest you have our promise ... Madame de X.... the girl you -love, left our abode last night.... She will never again be recalled to -us....” - -Madame de X....? The girl I love?... I love? Ah yes, yes, yes! I had -forgotten! You see, I’m an old old man and my heart is empty too ... -sucked dry, impoverished! I’m an old old man! Many things have changed -in me.... Madame de X....? Ah yes!... Madeleine! Madeleine will never -be recalled! Yes, of course. She will never come back here again.... As -we agreed. - -The falsetto voice fell silent with two words: - -“Farewell, Monsieur!” - -All was finished! - - * * * * * * * * * - -At the door, the outer door, of the heavy oaken panels studded with -iron nails, and which had just been opened ... on the highest of the -eight steps leading down from it ... the Count François and the Vicomte -Antoine likewise said to me: - -“Farewell, Monsieur.” - - * * * * * * * * * - -I crossed the garden, my feet treading and crushing the tall unmown -grass, my head grazing the thick matted branches of the pine and cedar -trees. - -The gate was open. - -I hurried through it. - -And now I was out upon the heath, walking indifferent to direction save -that I turned my face toward the brightening dawn.... - - - - -XXXVI - - -I walked all day long, from the blue twilight of morning to the red -glow of afternoon, following a route which I am sure I could not find -again. I know simply that it was always straight ahead. And I felt no -fatigue until after I arrived. - -That was late, very late in the afternoon. Straight ahead I walked -continuously, not knowing whither I was bound, with no idea that I was -going anywhere. Then suddenly I noticed that I was on a broad high-way, -and in front of me to left and right some houses came into view. - -Beyond them, a bridge, a draw-bridge. I recognized Toulon, Toulon and -its ramparts. - -Through the arching gate the sun shone red as blood. - -Yes, it would soon be evening! A sudden weariness came over me, and my -feet began to lag on the dusty road. But I went on, on, on, not knowing -or caring whither, just going on ... as iron goes toward the magnet.... - -The town finally! - -On my right a shop! - -At my side an old old man, the picture of poverty, near-sighted, -ragged, bent, with long white hair and a long white beard. I stopped, -and he stopped too. - -Ah yes! I understand! This old man beside me is I--myself, reflected in -a mirror of the shop!... - -Farther along, the crossing of two streets. - -Aha! A house that looks familiar. My house--the house where I used to -live! - -So that was the goal toward which I had been going all along -unconsciously! My legs seemed suddenly paralyzed, I could go no -farther. I leaned against a wall there where I was; and I gazed, and -gazed, with all my eyes.... - - - - -XXXVII - - -With all my eyes, I say.... - -The street was full of people, crowding sidewalks and pavement, edging -about this way and that and talking in hushed voices. Most of them were -dressed in black. A goodly number of military and naval men in parade -uniform were standing to one side, grouped around some higher officers -whose plumes I could distinguish over the heads of the throng. Among -them a tall impressive personage, with a grand cordon on his breast. -A noble face of regular outlines! Ah yes! My admiral, the governor! -Vice-Admiral de Fierce! - -A Cross, with priests behind it. The red cauls of the choir boys stand -out against the surplices and albs of white and gold. A canon’s gown is -fidgeting nervously about in the company of clergy.... - -Farther on, a squad of colonial troops, drawn up in line, their guns at -rest.... They are waiting for something, apparently.... - -Spectators looking on from the windows and down from the roofs and -balconies of the houses.... Flocks of urchins climbing pillars and -posts, seeking points of vantage.... But there is no laughing nor -shouting. The crowd is in a serious, earnest mood, or is trying to seem -so. - -All eyes are on the door of my house, which is heavily draped in -mourning. A shield of velvet has been set up above the casing and on it -I can read two initials in silver: _A. N._ Of course: _A. N._: André -Narcy! That’s what they must stand for. - -Of course! I understand! My funeral! Of course! - -Here is the hearse, slowly drawing up as the crowd divides before it. -The horses are heavily caparisoned; on the four ebony columns that -adorn the coffin-rest, four heavy plumes are waving. And oh, how many -wreathes! Ten, twenty, thirty of them I can count, all of them bedecked -with the tricolor of my country! On each an inscription in letters of -gold. I cannot read them at this distance. Perhaps, later, when they -pass this way.... - -Ah!... What’s the matter now? The crowd is all astir.... They are -probably bringing out the body.... Yes, there it is ... the hooded -bearers are coming down from the front door. How fast they walk! Not -much of a load after all.... I rise on tip-toe to see better.... My -coffin is of the flat topped kind common in the South of France! The -wood cannot be seen. They have draped it in a heavy cloth.... Here are -some other men in hoods.... They go up to the hearse and place on my -coffin a military cloak of mine--light blue--then a cavalry sabre, with -its scabbard; and these clink as they are laid one across the other. -Of course ... that’s the custom at military funerals ... my uniform -and my sword! I suppose my Distinguished Service Cross is there.... I -cannot see it.... There is hardly time to look at everything.... For -... something else I see ... yes ... with those other eyes of mine, -those moving unfailing eyes that can see through walls, and rocks, and -trees.... They can see just as well through the boards of a coffin.... -Yes, I see, I see perfectly well! - -Oh! Oh! Oh! What horror! What horror! - - * * * * * * * * * - -A blast of trumpets.... The cortège moves.... - -Leading the way come the priests chanting the ritual ... the ritual of -the dead.... Then eight officers, the pall-bearers of honor. Then the -soldiers.... At last, the hearse.... - -Oh, careful, careful, please! The springs of the hearse creak over -the rough pavement! Oh, careful, careful, please! You are jostling me -too hard, too hard! It is a poor miserable corpse you are carrying -there.... It must not be treated so! Look out! Don’t you see there, -under the hearse? The coffin is leaking! Black drops are oozing out and -falling one by one upon the pavement. - - * * * * * * * * * - -The crowd moves off behind the procession. - -Now they have turned the corner ... on the way to the church ... and -thence to the cemetery. They seem to be hurrying ... yes ... because -night is falling fast.... - -One by one the windows close. The street is empty now. - - * * * * * * * * * - -I remained where I was, my back still propped against the wall. My -weariness overcame me suddenly. My legs gave way at the knees. I -slipped slowly to the ground. - -Yet the determination to go on arose within me. I got to my feet, -somehow. I crossed the street toward my house! Toward my house--of -course! Where else should I go, except to my house? - -The front door had been left open, the heavy black crêpe dangling -around it. I reached the threshold! I stopped. - -There in the hall-way stood a little table covered with a black -silk tablecloth. On it was an ink-well, a pen, and a heavy funeral -register. Through the open door a draught was coming strong, blowing -the black-bordered pages over one by one. - -I turned them back, and found the frontispiece. - -It was covered with hastily scribbled signatures. There my friends -and messmates, along with many strangers, had written their names, as -the custom is. Yes, and heading them all, was my name, the name I had -formerly had, that is. It was not written, however, but penned in print: - - - MONSIEUR CHARLES-ANDRÉ NARCY - - CAPTAIN OF CAVALRY, D.S.C. - - _Died the twenty-first of December, 1908, in the - thirty-third year of his age._ - - -I picked up the register and hid it under my clothing--the threadbare -rags that had once been my riding suit. - -And I went away! - -I went away. Why not? This house belonged to Captain Charles-André -Narcy--the man who was dead.... My house was somewhere else ... -obviously ... somewhere else. - -I went away. - - * * * * * * * * * - -And I too walked rapidly, outside in the street.... Rapidly, yes; -though I staggered at every step from sheer exhaustion.... - -The street was ... no ... it was not quite deserted.... There, on the -sidewalk across from me stood ... a man? a woman? Someone! Someone who -was standing motionless in front of the house, and looking at the door -that was heavily draped in mourning.... - -A man? A woman? A woman! A good-looking woman ... well dressed ... a -single piece dress of a light color.... She was carrying a muff, a big -fluffy muff that completely swallowed her small hands ... a muff of -ermine.... - -I knew the woman. Of course! It was she ... Madeleine.... I knew her -very well. But, you understand ... I was dead, was I not? Besides, I -was very, very old.... Surprised more than moved.... In fact, not at -all aroused ... my emotions! Just surprised! But very much surprised! - -Anyhow ... I would just walk by her ... curiosity merely.... - -Yes, she, beyond a doubt.... Her eyes were glued to the door of -mourning. And I could see ... that was strange!... why, she was -weeping, weeping ... great silent burning tears! - -Weeping? That was strange! I hadn’t expected to find her weeping! Oh, -for that matter ... a woman’s tears! - -All the same, I felt I ought to do something.... - -With a moment’s hesitation I stepped up to her: - -“Mad....” - -She started from her grieving reverie, saw that I was there, swept her -great muff across her tear-stained cheeks.... Then she felt around -inside the muff with her fingers, tossed me a handful of coins ... and -fled.... - - - - -XXXVIII - - -And I fled too. - -There was no doubt after that! I was dead! Very very dead! More dead -perhaps than He, than the other Man, whose corpse I see, I persist -in seeing there inside its coffin ... a terribly wasted corpse, -frightfully decomposed. More dead than He, because He does not know -that He is dead; while ... I ... I.... - -Furthermore it was not his funeral they were celebrating; it was -mine.... I am the man those tears were for ... and those flowers, and -those uniforms, and the hushed voices of the multitude ... all that -fascinated gazing at my decoration, my shoulder straps, my sabre ... -there on the coffin. And those same people are now shivering out there -in this cold of a December evening ... to pay their respects to ... me -... to me ... not to Him. - -And I should be there too ... with them. I must hurry.... - - * * * * * * * * * - -The red of the sunset is turning to lavender ... a color of death and -mourning.... The leafless sycamores along the boulevard are spreading -on that sombre sheet of flame the black lace-work of their twigs and -branchlets. At the zenith a depth of emerald green is growing deeper.... - -Is there something beyond death, I wonder? Something? Anything? - -No! I cannot believe that possible! I can see that corpse too well ... -that corpse, in its coffin.... - - * * * * * * * * * - -A great crowd around my grave ... almost as great as the throng in -front of my house.... It is only a short walk from town ... the -graveyard.... - -No, the ceremony is over.... The sexton is filling the grave.... I can -hear the gravel as it strikes my coffin.... - -It seems to be all covered now.... I walked too slowly.... But I was -very tired.... - -The earth they are throwing into the hole.... I can feel it heavier and -heavier upon my chest.... Six feet deep.... I never knew it could be so -very heavy! - -Now everything is over. The grave is filled.... The people are going -home. - -Home? No, I shall stay here! Where have I to go? This place here, -henceforth, is home for me ... my home! - - - - -XXXIX - - -Now all is written. I have told my story. Here my pencil rests on this -flagstone, this lid of shale that covers my grave and already bears my -epitaph. My pencil.... I laid it here. It is worn to the wood. And I -have closed the register. All its pages to the very last are covered -with my cramped close-scribbled writing. - -All is written. All--everything! And everything I was in duty bound to -write--for men and women--my brothers and sisters--are in danger though -they know it not. And I had to write ... because my tongue is tied ... -paralyzed, petrified in my mouth.... - -All is written. You who read what I have written know the truth ... for -the love of your God, if you have one, do not doubt my word ... but -understand, believe.... - -The sun has vanished below the horizon. Night has come.... My last -night.... Yes, death will come to me ere long! My life has run its -course. Its lamp is going out, because the oil has burned away! - -On this long polished flagstone which has been my writing table and on -which my elbows rest I can still spell out my epitaph, though the light -is failing: - - - _Here Lies_ - - CHARLES-ANDRÉ NARCY - - _Born_ April 27, 1878 - - _Died_ December 21, 1908. - - -December 21, 1908 ... or January 22, 1909.... January 22, 1909--that’s -today! Just a month ... no, not quite a month ... a month less one -day.... I have been here on this tomb, on my tomb, waiting for death, -my second death.... - -A month.... One month.... And all the while my eyes have been gazing -down under this flagstone ... my eyes? those other eyes, I mean ... -which see ... which insist on seeing ... implacably ... gazing down -under this flagstone upon a coffin ... my coffin.... The coffin is -quite new and undecayed.... But it holds only a skeleton ... a naked -skeleton, without clothing ... its clothes ... my clothes, were far too -thin ... they fell to dust immediately. Nothing except the bones are -left; and they too are all but vanishing. On them, however, I can see -something ... the letter of the colonel of artillery ... they buried -it by mistake with the corpse ... it is still quite legible.... - -Yes, a skeleton ... a skeleton about to fall away to dust ... nothing -but a skeleton.... How can I continue living if I am nothing, after -all, but that skeleton plus this ruin of wasted flesh and bone that -has collapsed on this grave here? Impossible, assuredly! Impossible, -fortunately.... - -A month.... one month! The earth came up around the edges of this -flagstone ... so heavy that it sank into the loosened ground.... Some -workmen came and levelled the mound again, tamping the earth down under -the stone ... so heavy the stone ... and heavy the earth under it.... -Oh, my tired body cannot support such burdens longer.... - - * * * * * * * * * - -Tomorrow when they come to bury me they will put me in another -grave.... And I shall have that other earth and another stone to bear! -No man surely was ever tormented thus! - - * * * * * * * * * - -The sun is sinking again.... In the west the sky is reddening ... as -red as it was the day of my funeral.... - -The weather is clear.... Not a single cloud disturbs the even azure -of the firmament.... The winter wind has fallen and the branches of -the cypress trees have ceased their murmuring.... A gleam of blood-red -light is striking on their black tips.... Over all the heavens and over -all the earth a great and sombre beauty glows.... Splendor and Serenity -... reaching even into my soul.... - -Farewell.... - - -FINIS. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE SECRET *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/65709-0.zip b/old/65709-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 32b7dcf..0000000 --- a/old/65709-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/65709-h.zip b/old/65709-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5cc2c98..0000000 --- a/old/65709-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/65709-h/65709-h.htm b/old/65709-h/65709-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 03575fa..0000000 --- a/old/65709-h/65709-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6054 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The House of the Secret, by Claude Farrère. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - - p { margin-top: .75em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .75em; - } - - p.bold {text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} - p.bold2 {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 150%;} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; - } - h1 span, h2 span { display: block; text-align: center; } - #id1 { font-size: smaller } - - - hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; - } - - body{margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - } - - .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - text-indent: 0px; - } /* page numbers */ - - .center {text-align: center;} - .smaller {font-size: smaller;} - .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - .space-above {margin-top: 3em;} - .right {text-align: right;} - .s3 {display: inline; margin-left: 3em;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The House of the Secret, by Claude Farrère</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The House of the Secret</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0;'>(La maison des hommes vivants)</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Claude Farrère</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: Arthur Livingston</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 27, 2021 [eBook #65709]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE SECRET ***</div> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/front.jpg" alt="front" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<h1>THE HOUSE OF THE SECRET</h1> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="title page" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="bold2">THE HOUSE OF THE<br />SECRET</p> - -<p class="bold">(<i>LA MAISON DES HOMMES VIVANTS</i>)</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">BY</p> - -<p class="bold2">CLAUDE FARRÈRE</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY</p> - -<p class="bold2">ARTHUR LIVINGSTON</p> - -<div class="center space-above"><img src="images/logo.jpg" alt="logo" /></div> - -<p class="bold space-above">NEW YORK<br />E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY<br /><span class="smcap">681 Fifth Avenue</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center">Copyright, 1923<br />By E. P. Dutton & Company<br /> -——<br /><i>All Rights Reserved</i></p> - -<p class="center space-above"><i>First edition limited to 1500 copies</i></p> - -<p class="center space-above">PRINTED IN THE UNITED<br />STATES OF AMERICA</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">The House of the Secret</p> - -<h2>I</h2> - -<p>This day, January 20, 1909, I have decided to set my story down in -writing. Dangerous and terrifying the task! But I must perform it. For -day after tomorrow I shall be dead. Day after tomorrow.... Just two -days! And death from old age! Of this I am as certain as a man can be -of anything. What, then, have I to lose by speaking?</p> - -<p>Speak I must!</p> - -<p>That much I owe to the unsuspecting men and women who are to survive -me. They are in danger; and I must warn them.... Day after tomorrow I -shall be safe. Day after tomorrow I shall be dead.... And this is my -testament and last will, written in my own hand! To all men and women, -my brothers and my sisters, I bequeath—a Secret, <i>the</i> Secret. May my -death serve as a warning to them, one and all! Such is my last will and -testament....</p> - -<p>Now I am quite in my right mind—let there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> be no doubt of that. I am -sound, absolutely sound, in mind and, for that matter, in body. I have -never known what it means to be sick. But I am old, old beyond human -experience of age. How old, I wonder? Eighty? A hundred? Make it a -hundred and fifty! It really doesn’t matter. I have nothing to decide -the question. You might find my birth certificate, papers I may have -written, people who may have known me. Such things would not help. Not -even my own sensations give me any accurate impression of my actual -age. I have been old for such a very few days! I have had no time to -grow accustomed to the sudden change. There is no comparison, either, -between my absorption of the centuries and ordinary old age—this last, -indeed, has never been mine. I became what I am instantaneously, one -may say.</p> - -<p>I am cold, inside here, in my blood, in my flesh, in my bones. And -tired, horribly, unendurably tired, with a fatigue that sleep cannot -alleviate! My arms and legs are heavy and my joints are stiff. My teeth -are chattering. I cannot bring them together on my food. I struggle to -stand erect; but my shoulders stoop inexorably. I am hard of hearing. -My eyes are dim. And these infirmities are the more excruciating -because they each are new. No living man, I am sure, has ever been -quite as miserable as I. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> - -<p>But it will all be over in two days! Forty-eight hours! Two thousand -eight hundred and forty-eight minutes! What is a matter of two days? -The prospect fills my heart with hopefulness; though death, in itself, -is a terrible thing, far more terrible than living men imagine. That I -know, as no one else knows. But I am ready! The life I am leading has -ceased to be anything resembling life.</p> - -<p>So then, I am in my right mind. My head is clear. Furthermore, I am -about to die. Two considerations, these, that should dispel all doubt -as to my veracity. A man does not lie when he stands on the threshold -of Eternity! So I beg of you who find this little book of mine, of -all you who read this story of my Adventure—in the name of your -God, if you have one, do not doubt me! I am not spinning you a yarn, -nor telling you a tale for an idle hour. A great danger hangs over -you, over your son, your daughter, your wife, your dear ones! Do not -scorn my warning, therefore! Do not shrug your shoulders, or tap your -forehead! I am not a lunatic! And death is standing near you! Do not -laugh, either. But read, understand, believe—and, then—do as your -best judgment dictates.</p> - -<p>Forgive me if I write with a trembling hand. The words may seem faint, -almost illegible,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> at times. I found a pencil lying in a gutter on the -roadside. Its point is dulled, and it is too short for my stiffened -fingers. And this paper—from a funeral register—is not of the best. -Its broad black border leaves very little space and compels me to cramp -my lines. A broad black border! How inconvenient! Yet how appropriate! -This funeral page is perchance the best for such a story as mine!</p> - -<p>Here I begin. And again I beg of you; doubt me not, but read, -understand, believe!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<h2>II</h2> - -<p>It all started with a letter from Colonel Terrisse, commander of field -artillery, to Vice-Admiral de Fierce, commander-in-chief of the Western -Mediterranean, prefect of the Maritime reserve, line-officer, and -governor of the fortress of Toulon. The letter in question came in to -Staff Headquarters by the evening mail of Monday, December 21, 1908. -Notice now! That was the twenty-first of <i>last</i> December. It is now -the 20th of January, 1909. Not quite a month ago! It will be a month -tomorrow, day for day. A month! One single month! Gods of Heaven and -Hell!</p> - -<p>The Colonel’s letter reached Headquarters by the evening mail—military -headquarters, you understand, not the naval. At Toulon, as is the -case with similar stations, the vice-admiral in command functions -in a double capacity as maritime prefect and military governor. His -residence is the mansion of the prefecture; while his adjutant occupies -the governor’s house. There are thus separate offices communicating by -telephone. The wire is for obvious reasons a private one, independent -of the city “central.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> - -<p>I was in the officers’ room when the mail came in; and I opened -the letter. Among my duties was that of reading and sorting -the correspondence of the military commander. I was a captain -of cavalry detailed to the General Staff. I was young—just -thirty-three—thirty-three, mark you! And that was less than a calendar -month ago! Four weeks and two days ago, to be exact.</p> - -<p>I opened the letter; and read it. It was a matter of no great interest -that I could see. I am going to transcribe it textually, however, for I -can see it right before me now.</p> - -<blockquote><p><i>XVth Army Corps</i></p> - -<p class="center">FORTRESS OF TOULON</p> - -<p class="right"><i>Toulon, Dec. 21, 1908.</i></p> - -<p><i>Corr. No. 287</i><br /><i>Re: Broken Telegraph Wires</i></p> - -<p>Vice-Admiral Charles de Fierce,<br /> -Commander-in-Chief of Western Mediterranean,<br /> -Headquarters, Navy Yard, Toulon.</p> - -<p>Sir:—</p> - -<p>I have the honor to report that telegraph poles Nos. 171, 172, -173, 174, 175 are down as the result of a wash-out occurring on -Dec. 19th last, and that, in consequence, the Tourris-Grand Cap -line is out of commission.</p> - -<p>I have issued the necessary orders for repairs. In view of the -heavy rains and the long distance the repair crew will have to -cover over muddy roads, it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> is probable that the poles cannot be -in place again under forty-eight hours. All communication by wire -between Toulon and Grand Cap will accordingly be impossible for -that length of time.</p> - -<p>I have the honor to be, sir,</p> - -<p class="right">Your Obedient Servant,<span class="s3"> </span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Terrisse</span>,<br /> -<i>Colonel-in-Command of Field Artillery</i>.</p></blockquote> - -<p>I need not observe that, in peace times, Toulon and the Grand Cap have -nothing of importance to say to each other, with the single exception -of days when there is target practice. The Grand Cap is one of the -mountains in the chain east of Toulon. It is a bold, forbidding pile of -rock, crowned with a modern and fairly strong battery. Ordinarily the -place is held by a corporal’s guard, a full garrison being stationed -there only during periods of manœuvre. The country around the mountain -is a rough uncultivated heath virtually uninhabited. Charcoal burners -camp there from time to time; but there are no farms nor permanent -settlements. The wire leading to that God-forsaken place could be down -for more than two days without the world’s coming to an end on that -account! I was intending to file the colonel’s letter and let it go at -that, when the telegraph corporal knocked at the office door.</p> - -<p>“A call for you, Captain,” he said, “from Naval Headquarters!” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’ll be there directly,” I replied.</p> - -<p>As I rose from my chair, I chanced to look at the clock over the -fireplace.</p> - -<p>It was three P.M., to the minute.</p> - -<p>I stepped down the corridor to the telephone booth, which was in the -adjoining room.</p> - -<p>I took up the receiver.</p> - -<p>The voice calling me by name over the wire, was, as I recognized to my -surprise, that of Vice-Admiral de Fierce, himself.</p> - -<p>“Hello! That you, Narcy!”</p> - -<p>“At your service, Admiral!”</p> - -<p>“Barras tells me you have a horse down at Solliès-Pont. Is that right?”</p> - -<p>“Quite so, Admiral. I left my bay down there, last night.”</p> - -<p>“What condition is he in? Pretty good?”</p> - -<p>“Excellent! Hasn’t worked for some days. I was intending to use him -tomorrow, for the inspection at Fenouillet.”</p> - -<p>“Splendid! However, the inspection at Fenouillet is off. But I’ve got a -dirty job to attend to; and I don’t see anybody handy except you.”</p> - -<p>“Quite at your service, Admiral!”</p> - -<p>“Good!... You know the wire is down between here and the Grand Cap?”</p> - -<p>“I just received a letter to that effect from Colonel Terrisse.”</p> - -<p>“Now that’s a nuisance, just at this moment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> The guard up at the -battery there must be informed at all hazards that the seventy-fives -will be working over at Roca-Troca tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>“Tomorrow, Admiral?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, firing starts at noon. We can’t put it off, because General Felte -must get away from Toulon tomorrow night at the latest. They’re going -to shell the approaches to the mountain; and we’ve got to warn any -wood-choppers there may be in the neighborhood. Otherwise somebody will -be getting hurt! What time is it now, Narcy?”</p> - -<p>“Three five, Admiral.”</p> - -<p>“How far do you make it, from here to Solliès-Pont?”</p> - -<p>“Ten or twelve miles.”</p> - -<p>“Good! Well, telephone your orderly ... you have a man down there, -haven’t you?...”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Admiral!”</p> - -<p>“ ... tell him to get your horse ready and bring it to you somewhere -along the road.... Are you in uniform?”</p> - -<p>“No, Admiral, military regulations permit civilian after luncheon as -you know. I am wearing a riding suit, however, with boots and spurs. I -was thinking of trying out Colonel Lescaut’s new mare this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“Fine! I’ll send my car over to get you in five minutes. My man will -drive you down to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> Solliès-Pont, and you’ll be there by 3:40. There’s -no way of going on by auto, is there?”</p> - -<p>“To the Grand Cap? Impossible, Admiral. Even Valaury is difficult for -wagons.”</p> - -<p>“You know the way?”</p> - -<p>“I think so. I went over the ground once last year, during evolutions. -Beyond Valaury you have to take a trail, a sort of mountain road.”</p> - -<p>“But a horse can do it?”</p> - -<p>“It was on a horse that I went there.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, then. Try to make it. But the Grand Cap is a good hour and -a half beyond Solliès-Pont, and it gets dark at five. You understand -that?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll spend the night up on the Cap, of course.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. And it won’t be so bad. There’s an officers’ building there -with good beds. The guard will fix you up. And you can come back in -the morning. Sorry to give you a job like this, Narcy. But I don’t -just see any other way out of it. We’ve got to get word to the people -there. I had thought of sending a car around, by way of Revest. But -just our luck! The road is torn up all the way from Ragas to Morière. -The simplest thing is for someone who knows the road to ride out from -Solliès-Pont. And you seem to be the only man in sight.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Glad to be of use, Admiral. Your car is here now. I hear the engine -out in the yard.”</p> - -<p>“Be sure to telephone your man at Solliès-Pont.”</p> - -<p>“The corporal will do that for me. I’m off without losing a second’s -time!”</p> - -<p>“And ever so much obliged, eh, Narcy? Call and see me when you get -back!”</p> - -<p>I hung up the receiver. The telegraph corporal was standing outside -the booth with my water-proof and my soft felt hat. A misty rain was -falling outside.</p> - -<p>I hurried back into the office, gave a turn at the combination on the -safe, and locked the cabinet for the correspondence files. This latter -operation wasted a good half minute. The lock was out of order and -refused to turn. After some cursing on my part, it yielded to the key.</p> - -<p>Through the white lace curtains hanging over the office windows -a bright, though grayish light was streaming in from the waning -afternoon. The stove was glowing red, giving the room a touch of -cosiness that I was to exchange with some regret for the raw damp -outside.</p> - -<p>On the table I noticed Colonel Terrise’s letter, which, in my haste, -I had forgotten to file. I thought of opening the cabinet again. But -no, that would take too much time. Not knowing what else to do with -the letter, I folded it and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> slipped it into the inside pocket of my -waistcoat.... That is why I can see it now!</p> - -<p>In the courtyard of Headquarters a hostler was currying the -adjutant-general’s mare. He spat out the stub of his cigar and saluted -me. In the west, a dim outline of the sun was visible through a thin -place in the clouds. A tree near-by was dripping with great drops of -moisture. The swinging of the outer gate rang a bell in the sentinel’s -box. I remember that a dog, sleeping inside, raised his head lazily and -looked up.</p> - -<p>Beside the curbing on the street, the Admiral’s auto was standing, its -sixty horse-power motor purring softly but powerfully. I opened the -side door and stepped in....</p> - -<p>We were off!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> - -<h2>III</h2> - -<p>At the corner of Rue Revel and the Place de la Liberté we skidded as -the chauffeur turned sharply to avoid a child playing just off the -sidewalk.</p> - -<p>We slowed down along the Boulevard de Strasbourg on account of crowded -traffic. I was shaken up as we stopped short under the Porte Nôtre Dame -to prevent collision with a truck.</p> - -<p>We sped along through the Faubourg de Saint-Jean-du-Var between two -rows of tall narrow houses propped one against the other. Every three -quarters of a mile we passed a trolley car. Some workmen were repairing -the road under the railroad bridge. They had to jump to get out of our -way; but a train passing overhead drowned the curses they sent after us.</p> - -<p>It had stopped raining; but the road was still wet and slippery. The -gray sky seemed to reach down and touch the roofs of dark tiling. Not -a ray of sunshine brightened the landscape, depressing under the best -conditions, but ghastly now under that mournful light.</p> - -<p>We reached the outskirts of the settled region. One straight unbroken -line of mud, the road<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> reached out into the foggy heath. Here now to -the left the foot-hills of the Faron were rising one above the other. I -leaned out over the running board to get a good look at the top of the -mountain. A thick bank of fog was hiding it from view. That was bad! -The Grand Cap was higher still. I might have some trouble in groping -my way along, and I might easily take the wrong trail. Yes, that was -something to think about.... Though it worried me only for an instant.</p> - -<p>The village of Valette, the first town outside Toulon in the direction -of Nice! We were making forty miles an hour. Children scampered this -way and that to get off the road ahead of us, screaming at the top of -their voices. I looked at my watch. It was twenty-six minutes past -three. I pulled the wind shield down and nudged the chauffeur with my -elbow.</p> - -<p>“We can speed her up, now, eh, till we get to the bad road?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Captain.”</p> - -<p>The auto lunged ahead at a fifty-mile clip. The macadam lay straight -and level ahead of us. Here was the hamlet of La Garde, perched on -its hill-top around its dilapidated castle. The train of thought was -quite involuntary—but these ruins brought back to my memory a woman’s -face—the face of Madeleine, Madeleine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> de ... I almost betrayed her -name ... whom I had met just a year before in those self-same ruins.</p> - -<p>The old walls stood out with their battlements cut clean against the -darkening sky. The plain below was a naked, leprous tangle of stupid -olive-trees.... But that day, I had crossed the courtyard of the -castle; and, I remembered, behind the tower I had spied the slender, -agile form of a woman. She was a sight-seer, probably, resting for a -moment on the top step of the stairway leading to the old postern. My -heels clacked on the pavement, and she looked around my way—a dazzling -vision of greenish golden hair, with eyes of emerald.</p> - -<p>Madeleine.... How endlessly, limitlessly far away all those days now -seem! But they are so remotely past for me, alone. That woman is still -alive ... still young ... still beautiful. Indeed it were indiscreet -to give even the four syllables of her name. But there are so many -Madeleines in the world—Madeleines even with hair of greenish gold and -emerald eyes!</p> - -<p>Still at fifty miles an hour we swept into and through the village of -Farlède. A mile or two ahead the first houses of Solliès-Pont were -coming into view.</p> - -<p>I looked at my watch. Three thirty-nine! At three forty, to a second, -we reached the turning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> where a road makes off from Solliès-Pont to -Aiguiers and thence toward the Grand Cap. My orderly was waiting there, -holding my horse playfully by the nose. We stopped so short that I -struck hard against the wind-shield with my chest.</p> - -<p>A moment later I was in the saddle.</p> - -<p>Some women of the village sat looking at me with interest from their -door-steps. They thought the speed of my arrival and the suddenness -of my departure were a bit suspicious. I remember hearing one of them -remark in a shrill Provençal dialect:</p> - -<p>“Anyhow it’s not the kind of weather for a dress parade ... no girls -are out!”</p> - -<p>I believe those were the last words I heard that day ... that day, -which was the last day of my life, really....</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> - -<h2>IV</h2> - -<p>I took the Aiguiers road. The going was good—not too slippery, not -too hard. My horse was trotting cheerfully along, at an easy swinging -canter.</p> - -<p>He was a fine animal and I loved him—a perfect Arles thoroughbred, -high in the withers, short in the cropper, with a fine spread of neck -and shoulders. A courageous fellow, too, and so good-natured! I had -picked him out at my leisure and just to my taste, during a turn of -duty at the ministry in Paris. There you have facilities for such -things that officers in garrison never dream of.... I called him -<i>Siegfried</i>. We had come to know each other very well; and, in all -our intimacy as comrades, I never discovered a defect in him worth -mentioning.</p> - -<p>Siegfried took me to Aiguiers without stopping once for breath. -Aiguiers is a little cluster of houses backed up against one of the -last foot-hills of the Maurras chain. Beyond there, the road began to -get more difficult. It ran along a hillside above a ravine cut deep by -the Gapeau. There were sharp turns conforming to the twists in the bed -of the little torrent,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> where the water mirrored gray with the pallor -of the leaden clouds.</p> - -<p>It now began to rain again, in huge drops that made visible circles in -the silent pools of the stream. I suggested a gallop to Siegfried. Away -off to the right, the bell-tower of Solliès-Toucas pierced a clump of -cherry trees. Then the road turned sharp to the left hiding the distant -village from view. Now there was nothing ahead but a deserted country, -on which the sky was raining in a thick, dispiriting drizzle.</p> - -<p>Halfway up a steep fold in the ground, Siegfried slowed down to a walk. -The other side was a more gradual slope, the inner rim of the great -bowl of Valaury—a sort of crater, half filled, and perhaps two miles -in diameter. Now the Grand Cap, hitherto concealed by the Maurras -ridge, was in plain view. It came forward, as it were, out of the rain, -sullenly dominating all the smaller hills around it. But its peaks were -quite invisible, lost in the ceiling of clouds. It was nothing but a -truncated cone, a huge pillar propping up the leaden architecture of -mist and sky above it. Stray flecks of fog were wandering here and -there along its sides, drifting slowly down to the break between the -heath and the farm lands. For a second time the danger of going forward -into that thick and sticky gloom occurred to me. Even if I found the -trail,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> it might be hard, if not impossible, to keep to it.... But, for -the moment, the floor of the basin was clear and the path before me -broad and level. A word to Siegfried and he joyfully resumed his gallop.</p> - -<p>Madeleine had often gone with me on early morning rides. There in the -pine groves, which drape the Points of Cépet and Sicie in gorgeous -green, we would trot along side by side inhaling the cool, resinous -air. The memory came to me at just this moment; for the evening breeze -was rising and I had breathed it deeply in. It felt damp and musty to -my lungs, polluted with a strange odor of rotting leaves and oozing -ground. I straightened up in my saddle for a deeper breath, a keener -sense, of the uncanny smell. Yes, it was the same as before—and the -queer notion came to me that it was the breath of the mountain, close, -cadaverous, nauseous. A creeping, disagreeable chill ran over me!</p> - -<p>Siegfried, meanwhile, was galloping on; but in a moment or two I reined -him in. We were well across the bowl, and the other slope, steep and -slippery, was before us. At the top of a knoll four huts were gathered -in jumbled array. No one seemed to be living in them, but a dog came -out and sniffed at Siegfried’s heels, without, however, barking.</p> - -<p>We came to a fork in the trail. I stopped to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> consult my military map -and get my bearings. Straight in front of me, the Grand Cap blocked -the horizon with a formidable chaos of precipitous rocks. Its first -foothills were perhaps a mile and a half ahead. Now this was East; -so North would be on my left hand. I studied the map for a while. -It was not so very clear, but I did make out the fork where I then -was standing and the two paths between which I had to choose. So -far as I could see, they both led up to the battery; the one to the -right, by way of the old convent of Saint Hubert and the village -of Morière-la-Tourne; the one to the left, through the hamlet of -Morière-les-Vignes and Morière itself. I decided to take the latter -route.</p> - -<p>Had I selected the other, Adventure doubtless would have missed me!</p> - -<p>As I went on again, I thought I could make out a sort of pinkish cast -to the clouds heaped up along the mountain. I was headed west now. That -radiance must be, therefore, a shaft from the setting sun making its -way through the bank of mist and fog. Before long it would be pitch -dark. Instinctively, I looked back to the eastward, better to gauge the -approach of night; and frank uneasiness came over me as I thought of -the long distance still to go. Darkness, indeed, had already settled -on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> the plains. It was climbing the heights of Solliès, engulfing -the basin of Valaury, and striding rapidly, stealthily, along up the -mountain trail behind me. Now it was passing us, reaching the dangerous -slopes of the mountain far ahead. The path was barely perceptible, and -Siegfried kept slipping alarmingly.</p> - -<p>For the first time, I clearly realized that my mission involved far -greater risks that an uncomfortable night of wandering out in the cold -and rain.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> - -<h2>V</h2> - -<p>It must have been somewhere on the northernmost spur of the Maurras -range that I lost my way. It was not yet night, exactly, but it was -far from broad daylight. The trail seemed to come to an end in a -tangled clump of bushes, that looked like all the other underbrush on -the solitary heath. Siegfried went courageously in, however, slipping -about, but shrewdly feeling the ground with a forefoot before he rested -his weight upon it. I relied mostly on his instinct to determine what -was path and what was heather. Unfortunately I had forgotten that at -the northern tip of the ridge the Tourris trail makes off to the left -from the route to the Grand Cap. I should have remembered this, I -suppose; for the Tourris trail makes a well-known tramp from Toulon—up -to the famous Col de la Mort de Gauthier. Strangely significant name!</p> - -<p>My horse turned off on that trail, a fact of which I was not at once -aware, because I had not even noticed the fork when we came to it.</p> - -<p>If the path hitherto had been bad, it now became positively dangerous. -The ground was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> rough, broken by boulders and ledges and with deep -ravines and rain-courses. We had left the rolling knolls about the -basin of Valaury and were skirting the first rocky escarpments of -the mountains. Siegfried went down on his knees a number of times. -Meanwhile long streamers of cloud kept reaching down from the ceiling -of mist above us, a ceiling that was closer and closer to our heads as -we reached the higher land. Eventually we found ourselves in a sort of -transparent, almost luminous, haze, which I knew was the forerunner -of the bank of thick fog I had been watching as it drifted along some -thirty feet above our heads.</p> - -<p>“Provence always was a dirty hole!” I swore, as I well remember.</p> - -<p>But at just this moment, the trail, if trail it could be called, took -a sharp descent. Now we should have been going up-grade all along, and -this sudden drop surprised me. Nothing of the kind had been indicated -on my chart. I thought for a moment of consulting the map again, but -the annoyance of unfolding the unwieldy paper and of studying in such -wretched light all that maze of ditches and indentations deterred me. -Besides, the drop soon came to an end and we were going uphill again, -across a sort of hollow thickly overgrown with brush. The path was now -a thing of the past decidedly. We were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> in a thicket of cat-briar which -scratched Siegfried’s belly and sides and cut my hands as I tried to -keep the nettles off my own face. I could not get a good look at the -ground, so thick was the undergrowth, but I observed that Siegfried was -advancing with greater and greater reluctance. That much was evident. -He did not like this going blindly into a territory where he scented -danger.</p> - -<p>Now there was another sharp drop followed by a third up-grade.</p> - -<p>This convinced me that I was certainly off the road. I had been -crossing a sort of saddle with three humps in line. No such ground -figured on the trail to the Grand Cap. I thought I would keep on, -however, to the top of the next rise. From there, perhaps, I could get -a look around.</p> - -<p>And it turned out as I had hoped.</p> - -<p>From the top of the grade ahead, I could see a broad plain shut in -on all sides by mountains. These were lost in the distance; but even -in that heavy weather their outlines were characteristic enough. -This massive barrier to the West could be nothing but the Faron—the -“Sleeping Dog” as it is sometimes called from its unusual contour. Over -here was the Coudon, just as surely; there was no mistaking its eastern -spur, sharp-pointed like the prow of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> vessel cutting into the plain. -Where was I then? There could be no doubt. I had made the summit of -“Walter’s Death” itself! So then, I must hurry back, and make as good -time as possible! I must try to find the fork where I had gone astray -and take the trail that went out to the right from there. Time was an -important matter. I might still have a half hour left before complete -nightfall.</p> - -<p>Siegfried was loathe to plunge back into the maze of cat-briar from -which we had just so painfully emerged. His nose had been scratched in -a number of places. I pressed my knees into his sides to intimate that -speed was a consideration. Pluckily he went back down the incline, and -at the bottom, indeed, he broke into a trot.</p> - -<p>And he trotted on—but not for long.</p> - -<p>Just before we were reaching the second grade, I suddenly felt my -saddle give way beneath me. I fell, and so did Siegfried. I remember -the rough scratch of the brambles as I shot through them and the thud -with which I struck on a stone. I lay stunned for the fraction of a -minute; then I jumped to my feet, bleeding, bruised, torn, but unhurt, -all in all. Not so with Siegfried! I knelt beside my poor, poor horse. -His left forefoot had caught in a crevice between two stones, and his -leg had snapped like a pipe-stem at the ankle. Never again would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -Siegfried take me on my morning gallop! Never would he leave that fatal -gully into which he had gone so much against his will!</p> - -<p>I wept.</p> - -<p>We men of the cavalry think more of our horses than we do of our -friends and of our lovers. I wept! But then, in a sort of reaction to -cold brutality, I drew my revolver, pressed the muzzle into Siegfried’s -ear, closed my eyes, and fired. The noble body trembled for a brief -second; then it lay limp and relaxed under that shroud of bush and -cat-briar.</p> - -<p>Coldly, mechanically, I returned my pistol to its place. Then I walked -away, up toward the top of the second hill, where I sat down on the -first stone I came to.</p> - -<p>A quarter of an hour must have passed before I came really to myself -and thought of considering the plight in which I found myself.</p> - -<p>It was not an enviable one! Here I was, on foot, well off any beaten -trail, virtually lost in the most lonesome waste of the mountains of -Provence. I had passed a deserted hut some four miles back on the road. -The battery on the Cap must be fully seven or eight miles further on -beyond the fork. And my duty it was to get there regardless of my -helplessness in that impenetrable thicket, from which twilight was -rapidly fading now, yielding to black night.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> - -<h2>VI</h2> - -<p>Again I beg of you who read me.... Believe! Believe! Believe!</p> - -<p>I was seated on a stone, to one side of what I took for the path. My -eyes turned down toward the hollow from which I had just come—the -place where the body of my horse was lying. Then I looked in the other -direction, over toward the first hump of the double saddle of three -hills. I was intending to rise and start out on my way again. It was my -duty.... I was in honor bound to make the summit of the Grand Cap, find -the battery, deliver my dispatch.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, on the hill-top—the first one—it could not have been more -than a hundred yards away, I perceived a human form, standing out in -dark profile against the still livid sky. I say it was a human figure. -It was that of a woman, and she was coming toward me at a rapid pace.</p> - -<p>In joyous surprise I sprang to my feet. Certainly this was the last -thing on earth I could have hoped for in such a place and at such an -hour. Even in daytime it is rare to find a peasant, a wood-chopper, or -a hunter in the neighborhood of the <i>Mort de Gauthier</i>! There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> are no -trees worth cutting on those barren mountain sides. There are no fruits -nor berries, nor even game. Yet here on this cold, rainy, foggy night -I was meeting a woman—the only woman, as I was willing to bet, who -had been along that trail in a month’s time. Somebody from Valaury or -Morière, probably, hurrying to get home by nightfall. She would be well -acquainted with the region, doubtless, and would be only too glad to -set me right about the trails.</p> - -<p>I took two or three steps in her direction, observing, however, that -she would pass right in front of me, in any case! How fast she was -coming, too! How easily she managed all that rough uneven ground!</p> - -<p>She was now some twenty yards away. And I stopped in utter stupefaction!</p> - -<p>She was not a peasant girl, by any means. That dress! It was of a -fashionable cut, such as a society woman of distinction might wear. An -afternoon otter cloak, edged with ermine, in the latest style; a large -loosely hanging muff, of ermine also; a turban hat with plumes, the -latter lying flat and pasted to the crown by the rain and mist. She -had no umbrella and no heavier coat. There was nothing about her that -seemed probable in that wilderness. I glanced in panic around me to be -sure I was indeed in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> the foothills of those mountains and not in the -winter-garden of some fashionable hotel on the Blue Coast; that it was -the same desert in which I had lost my way, and that it was a cold, -raw, rainy night of December.</p> - -<p>I could scarcely breathe now, and a cold chill began to run up and down -my back.</p> - -<p>Was it not an apparition?</p> - -<p>Perhaps, but no ordinary apparition at any rate! Here was no -impalpable, supernatural body. For I could hear the crunching of her -feet on the leaves, a slight squeak in her shoes, and the silken rustle -of her garments as they brushed against the brambles.</p> - -<p>The woman came up to me, passed me, barely grazing my body. She was -looking fixedly ahead, without stopping, without turning her eyes this -way or that. I had first a front view of her features, then another in -profile. I recognized her! It was she!</p> - -<p>“Madeleine!”</p> - -<p>The cry came from me involuntarily, a cry of terror absolute:</p> - -<p>“Madeleine!”</p> - -<p>The woman seemed not to hear, just as she had seemed not to see. She -walked rapidly past and away down the trail into the underbrush of the -hollow.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> - -<h2>VII</h2> - -<p>Madeleine, Madeleine de....</p> - -<p>But no. I must not write her name!</p> - -<p>I had met her the year before—that would be year before last, the -year 1907. It was the month of May, I believe, but of that I cannot be -sure. It seems so long, long ago, such a frightfully long, long, time -ago! My memory is faltering like a waning candle flame flickering above -its last drop of molten wax, sputtering with bursts of blue and yellow -light as it is about to die out!</p> - -<p>So then, the month of May, in the year 1907.... At this moment, a -clearer flash of my memory comes—I see everything as vividly as I -lived it then.</p> - -<p>It was in the courtyard of the castle at La Garde. I had strolled up -the winding path to the ancient ruins; and behind the tower of the old -donjon, I found ... Madeleine sitting on the last step of the stairway -leading up to the postern. She turned at the sound of my footsteps and -she blushed. That blush told me I had intruded on a very personal, a -very intimate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> reverie. At our feet stretched the leprous plain and -beyond the southern limit of the plain, the sea. A radiant sky, not -a trace of vapor veiling the glare of the naked sun! The ugly plain -caught fire from the rain of light, became beautiful for a moment. It -was one of those golden days, when the chest can scarcely contain the -exultant throbbing of a drunken heart!</p> - -<p>When my eyes fell on the greenish golden hair of Madeleine, my heart -began to throb intoxicated. When her emerald eyes fell on me, my bosom -heaved with an inner, ecstatic joy.</p> - -<p>Later we knew that that instant had been the beginning of our love; for -Madeleine confessed to me that a deep mysterious thrill had moved her -also, at sight of my own enthralling emotion.... And the incredible -horror of it all! That was not quite two years ago. And this hollow bag -of crackling bones was I, I, a young, strong, hopeful man, loved and in -love! Less than two years ago!</p> - -<p>Sometime later: a <i>fiesta</i> at a sumptuous country house, looking down -on the sea! Precipitous promontories, into which the maritime fir -trees shot their roots and hung out horizontally above the foaming -surf! Paths winding in and out among the trees—and lanterns, lanterns -everywhere, shedding a soft and mellow light about the groves! </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> - -<p>There I saw Madeleine a second time!</p> - -<p>An evening gown of cloth-of-silver, cut low over splendid shoulders; -and my eyes lingered on them with imperious desire!</p> - -<p>We met by a balustrade hanging out over the sea. The subdued murmur -of the breakers softened the echo of our voices. In the distance the -wail of violins! Other couples walking to and fro on the path behind -us! A man and woman came up to our terrace, broke the silence of our -communion, went away again!</p> - -<p>We talked of indifferent things—the small change of conversation, -withholding words of deeper import. We sat there for a long time. One -by one the lanterns burned themselves out. A red oval moon came up out -of the sea, reached out along the water in the outline of a glistening, -elongated cypress tree. The violins fell silent.</p> - -<p>We walked back toward the villa.</p> - -<p>Madeleine rested a cold hand on my arm. A sudden exaltation came over -me. That woman whom I had so passionately loved under the hot sunglow -of an afternoon was now at my side. We were alone in that pine grove, -alone under that moonlight! I threw an arm about her shoulders, drew -her toward me, and pressed my lips to her lips in a kiss she did not -avoid.</p> - -<p>This was less than two years ago! It is Hell to remember it now!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> - -<h2>VIII</h2> - -<p>Madeleine was a vivacious creature. Her graceful, subtle, intelligent -beauty was not coarsened by the ruddy vitality of her features and the -warmth of passion evident in the Southern blood that raced through her -blue veins. I must not linger on these impressions, however; they are -of interest only to me. I am not writing a diary of my inner life! I am -not writing my memoirs! This is a testament, in which I bequeath to the -generations after me a Secret which it behooves all men and women, my -brothers and sisters, to know. It were better, perhaps, to abbreviate -my story, suppress everything not pertinent to that Secret. But I must -convince the sceptical. The voice of Truth must be felt in every word I -say. I must show myself to be really the man I pretend to be: Charles -André Narcy, captain of cavalry, Distinguished Service Cross, detailed -to Staff Headquarters, born in Lyons, April 27th, 1876, died at Toulon, -December 21, 1908 (or January 22, 1909). That I am this person I can -prove only by this story. What desperation! Only by this story! I must -convince you by the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>detailed fullness of my account. And in this -sense, everything, everything, has a bearing on the Secret.</p> - -<p>Now I must say that Madeleine was a beautiful, vivacious creature, -plump with the healthy vigor of her Provençal race. And as I took her -in my arms for the first time, I noted what a firm, solid, <i>heavy</i> -person she was.</p> - -<p>Later, when once I took her in my arms again and playfully lifted her -from her feet, she seemed to me much <i>lighter</i>, much <i>lighter</i>!</p> - -<p>Madeleine de X.... What horror! If only I could give her name! Then you -would know! And she would confirm my story! However ... honor impels -me at this point to evade a little, to falsify a number of dates, and -places, and details. You must get the meaning of what I say; but what -does it matter if I write “June” instead of “October,” or “Tamaris” -instead of “Hyères,” “taxicab” instead of “Peuchot.” I must be careful, -all the more because from moment to moment the flame of my memory -is weakening, trembling, threatening to go out, reviving again only -after minutes of anguish! The flame of my memory, and the flame of my -intelligence, also! If I am not on my guard, some word, blighting to a -lady’s honor, may escape me!</p> - -<p>She was the only daughter of a rich man! He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> was a hard, sour, -ill-tempered fellow. During winter seasons he lived in a decrepit -castle lost in the chalk dunes between Toulon and Aubagne. There he -kept aloof from the world, receiving no visitors and making no calls -himself. One of those domestic tragedies, as laughable in the eyes of -society as they are torturing to the hearts they tear, had separated -him from his wife some twelve or fifteen years before. The old folks -in Toulon, Nice, Marseilles, used to refer amusedly to the story, -which they considered a most savory scandal. I never had an appetite -for such things. I am unable to tell exactly why that man and that -woman separated! I was never a friend of either of them. I saw him -occasionally, in the old days, at our officers’ balls. His wife I used -to meet from time to time at various resorts along the Riviera. She had -a luxurious villa at La Turbie and another at Beaulieu. Part of the -year she lived on her own properties; another part in Paris; usually -she spent two or three months with Madeleine in Toulon, for there her -daughter married and settled permanently.</p> - -<p>In the summer months, Madeleine lived in a cottage of her own on Cépet -Point, where the peninsula juts out into the roadstead and is always -exposed to a cool breeze. Inspections often took me to the batteries in -that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>neighborhood, and I had occasion for many a delightful promenade -in the groves and forests of Cépet and Sicie. I would ride up on -horseback with an orderly, who came on the horse that Madeleine was to -ride. We kept a side-saddle for her in the sentry box at one of the -customs’ houses.... If you want details, there you have plenty of them. -However....</p> - -<p>I have figured it out: It was in the month of May, of the year 1907, -that I met Madeleine for the first time at the old castle at La Garde; -it was in the month of June of the same year that I encountered her for -the second time at the <i>fiesta</i>; it was two or three weeks after that -when I first took her in my arms and lifted her from her feet.</p> - -<p>And, she was a heavy person, robust, solid, well-built, but <i>heavy</i>, -<i>heavy</i>!</p> - -<p>Some two months later, when we were playing on a beach, it occurred -to me to take her in my arms and lift her again. I turned all my -muscle to the task and prepared for the strain I so well remembered. -To my surprise she was <i>light</i>, as <i>light</i> as a feather, strangely, -surprisingly <i>light</i>! I carried her about in my arms without effort. -And she had been such a <i>heavy</i> person!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> - -<h2>IX</h2> - -<p>The dying flame of my memory burns up here into a brighter light. I -remember the following with a strange, besetting vividness.</p> - -<p>As Madeleine rose from the sand some straws and bits of earth clung to -her skirt, and I brushed them off. Under the trees that bordered the -shore, our horses were browsing at some leaves, and I still can hear -the crumpling sound as they chewed them. To get back into the saddle, -Madeleine rested a foot in my hand; and again I had that sensation of -her extraordinary <i>lightness</i>. I looked up at her in some alarm.</p> - -<p>As we rode along, I finally asked concernedly:</p> - -<p>“My dear, have you been quite well these days past?”</p> - -<p>She seemed surprised at the question:</p> - -<p>“I?”</p> - -<p>“Why yes, you! You seemed rather tired, I thought!”</p> - -<p>She opened her handbag, produced a beauty-box and looked into the tiny -mirror that was on its cover. Then she laughed:</p> - -<p>“What can you be dreaming of, silly! You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> quite frightened me! But my -skin is as rosy as a milkmaid’s!”</p> - -<p>That was true. The exhilaration of the drive had brought the ruddiest -glow to her cheeks. She brushed them over with her powder puff, -however. I might well have accepted the explanation, but a feeling of -uneasiness came over me. Might there not be strange diseases that eat -out the vitality of a person without changing appearances of perfect -health? Certain fevers bring rosiness and not pallor to the features!</p> - -<p>I had not seen Madeleine for nearly a week just previous. She usually -told me all she did. Perhaps she had been tiring herself in some way or -other:</p> - -<p>“What have you been doing, love, since I saw you Tuesday?”</p> - -<p>“Since Tuesday?” she repeated with some hesitation.</p> - -<p>“Ho!” said I, “What a memory! Yes, since Tuesday, to be sure!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes!... It would be easier to remember if there were anything in -particular,” she replied. “I have done nothing at all, stupid! Oh yes, -that’s so! I did go into town once! That was Thursday!”</p> - -<p>“And without telling me you were to be there, where I could have seen -you?”</p> - -<p>She turned toward me and stared, with a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>certain perplexity, as one -looks on discovering in the mind a thought, or a memory, one had -never dreamed of finding there. She repeated my exclamation with an -interrogative inflection:</p> - -<p>“Without letting you know?”</p> - -<p>She looked dreamily down over the mane of her horse. Then she resumed.</p> - -<p>“That’s true! I didn’t let you know!”</p> - -<p>And she blushed in the most evident perplexity and confusion. I was -quite amused; and I went on:</p> - -<p>“And I suppose you had a date with somebody ... somebody whose company -was far more alluring than that of your old friend perhaps!...”</p> - -<p>She passed a hand across her forehead, as though to collect her -thoughts; once, twice she did this. And I noticed that where her four -fingers pressed upon her marble skin, four ruddy spots appeared.</p> - -<p>“Did I see someone?” she asked. “Whom did I see?”</p> - -<p>She asked the question quite innocently in a sort of dreamy reverie. I -raised my voice in mock severity, the way one calls a child to order:</p> - -<p>“‘Whom did I see!’ How should I know, dearie, whom you saw? I was -asking you?” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> - -<p>She started imperceptibly, and then quite changing tone and manner, she -resumed:</p> - -<p>“Oh, I made a mistake ... Thursday! I didn’t go into town, Thursday! It -was Tuesday, and I took the train ... for Beaulieu!”</p> - -<p>“I see ... so your mother is at Beaulieu again. You paid her a visit?”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense! Mother is at Aix! This is September, you see!”</p> - -<p>“Why Beaulieu, then?”</p> - -<p>“Why Beaulieu?”</p> - -<p>Again she seemed to have lapsed into a dream. As she answered, her lips -quivered and each word came out with an effort that was noticeable.</p> - -<p>“Because ... why yes ... I had some errands to do there.... I went to -Beaulieu.... In fact ... see for yourself ...!”</p> - -<p>She dropped the reins and began looking through the little bag that was -hanging from her wrist.</p> - -<p>“See ... here is my ticket ...!” she added triumphantly.</p> - -<p>I was quite puzzled, less at the fact of her visit to Beaulieu than at -her whole manner. And my astonishment was not relieved when I observed -that the ticket had been punched but once.</p> - -<p>“You got on the train—that is evident! But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> how do you happen to have -the ticket, anyway? How did you get through the gate without giving it -up?”</p> - -<p>Her eyes turned toward me vacantly, wide open, almost bulging:</p> - -<p>“Why, I.... Yes.... How do I know? Of course not! I didn’t give it up. -I suppose the gateman failed to ask me for it....”</p> - -<p>And her brow knit into a slight wrinkle that seemed to mark a strange -and intense mental concentration. A second later she seemed to give up, -and she confessed:</p> - -<p>“Listen, darling ... I think I had better tell you.... It’s all so -absurd.... I’m really quite ashamed. But I think you ought to know. -Well ... see here ... I simply don’t know why I went to Beaulieu -Tuesday. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, to call me there ... -at least, nothing that I can remember right now.... Nor can I remember -having done anything in particular when I got there.... I left Tuesday -morning and I came back Wednesday night.... And I was all tired out -when I reached home.... There you have the whole story....”</p> - -<p>I was so astounded at this incredible tale that I pulled my horse up -short.</p> - -<p>“The whole story! That’s absurd, my dear!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> You must have left word at -home ... given some pretext....”</p> - -<p>“Of course ... but what it was I can’t remember!”</p> - -<p>“But your housekeeper ... your maid ... your husband ... when you came -home, they must have asked you about the villa or something!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, my husband asked me if I had had a good trip and I answered that -I had!”</p> - -<p>“And the train ... the journey itself ... the station ... Beaulieu! -Where did you go, when you got out of the train?”</p> - -<p>“To ... to the villa, ... of course!”</p> - -<p>“Of course nothing! You don’t seem to be so sure!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m sure ... sure enough! The trouble is, André ... I don’t know, -it all seems so vague and hazy in my mind ... and it’s funny ... the -harder I try to remember, the less I seem able to.... Oh, I’m ill, ill, -André! Here ... here!”</p> - -<p>And one of her pink fingers pointed to the vertical wrinklet between -her eyebrows. As I sat there looking at her fixedly, searchingly, she -burst suddenly into convulsive sobs. I reined my horse to her side, put -my arm about her shoulders, and kissed her tears away.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> - -<h2>X</h2> - -<p>For I loved the girl!</p> - -<p>I make that confession here again, absurd, ridiculous, grimly ironical -though the declaration may seem.</p> - -<p>I loved her. This I must say so that all of you ... men and women ... -will understand, and believe!</p> - -<p>I loved her. Notice: I met her on a sunny afternoon in May; and again -on a moonlight night in June; and I found her beautiful; and I told -her so.... To you cynics it may seem strange, incredible, to call that -love! I can see you smiling!</p> - -<p>But—all of you—look around among your memories, try to remember! You -have all met your mistresses for the first time at some time or other. -Before that, you were not in love. You began with simple curiosity; and -your first kiss was a kiss of playfulness—“Once will do no harm!” And -perhaps often it was the first and the last kiss.</p> - -<p>But more often the first kiss gave you a longing for the second. The -flirtation became <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>passion, and the passion devotion. “Once!” “Again!” -“And again!” And, finally, “Forever!” “For all our lives!”</p> - -<p>Oh, yes, I know, I know! It was all a dream, and people cannot dream -forever. The flesh is weak, and the spirit less enduring than the -flesh. You wearied of each other! Forever became a year, six months, -six weeks! Love, indifference, infidelity, estrangement, oblivion! Oh -yes, I know, I know! But what of that? It was honestly that you loved -each other! In good faith you swore: “I must have you with me forever!” -In good faith you promised to love each other and cherish each other -and cleave unto each other! And truly would you have laid down your -lives that your mistresses might never die....</p> - -<p>Smile then, if you wish, when I say that I loved her!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XI</h2> - -<p>So then, it was twilight, just after sunset on a raw, foggy, rainy -day, the 21st of December, 1908—my last day of life. And around me -was the hill of the strangely significant name: <i>Le col de la Mort de -Gauthier!</i> A cry of terror had escaped me:</p> - -<p>“Madeleine!”</p> - -<p>It was she—Madeleine, the girl I loved, alone, afoot, on that deserted -heath, on that raw, foggy, rainy, wintry evening—Madeleine, hurrying -along that solitary trail through the sweet-fern and the cat-briar, in -her afternoon costume, as she would dress for a tea at a fashionable -hotel ... and twenty miles from home!</p> - -<p>“Madeleine!” I called. And she seemed not to hear me, and not to see -me; but hurried on, on, on, rapidly, with unerring step, over that -rough and broken and rain-soaked ground.</p> - -<p>My heart stopped beating. For ten, fifteen, twenty seconds I stood -there paralyzed, rooted to the trail. Then I came to myself; and in a -mad dash down the incline, I went off in pursuit of her. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> - -<p>Ahead of me I could see her figure already ascending the slope of the -third knoll. She moved easily, rapidly, experiencing no difficulty from -the matted underbrush and cat-briar. She was following the trail. But -at the top of the hill she turned—to the eastward, with her back to -Toulon, that is. There a thick curtain of night seemed to have fallen -before the taller underbrush. I saw her skirt as it vanished across the -line of darkness into shrubbery that reached above her head. A second -later I caught a glimpse of her ermine collar farther in, and then once -more and then for a third time.</p> - -<p>I was running with all the headlong speed I could muster. My foot -caught in a snarl of cat-briar. I plunged forward, scraping across a -flat stone. But I barely touched the ground. I was on my feet in an -instant. “Madeleine! Madeleine!” I called.</p> - -<p>I thought I caught sight of her ermine collar again as she hurried -across a clearing. Then she was gone. The wet moss was thin above the -solid ledging of the knoll. It slipped under my feet, on the brink -of a ditch such as that which had cost Siegfried his life. I fell a -second time. Again I was on my feet. And now, against the sky over the -hill-top ahead of me, profiled on the leaden but much darker<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> clouds, -I saw the same mysterious figure I had seen at first—save that now it -was of hazier, more indistinct outline.</p> - -<p>“Madeleine! Madeleine!” I shouted desperately. And I dashed on.</p> - -<p>Step by step the figure sank behind the crest of the hill. When I -reached the place, I found one of her footprints in the mud on the edge -of a stone. But she had disappeared completely. The soft moss preserved -no record of her passage. Before me lay the silent, deserted slope of -the Col de la Mort de Gauthier; to the right the escarpments of the -Maurras range; to my left the approaches to the Grand Cap. And no signs -of any human being!</p> - -<p>In anguished desperation I tore out into the underbrush, on which night -had definitely fallen. I was determined to overtake the fugitive, get -to the bottom of this prodigious mystery. I ran and ran, all my heart -bent on finding the slightest trace of her ... all my heart and all my -bewildered mind. I mounted great boulders with one bound, and was over -them in another. I went forward springing from rock to rock, falling at -times, turning my ankles, forcing thickets of briars by sheer weight -of impact, tearing my clothes, scratching my face and hands, but -running, running, running. I thought I saw a light off to the left. I -turned in that direction, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> again ran on. I must have spent hours -in this fruitless, aimless, despairing search. I remember that finally -I sank to the ground, breathless, exhausted, utterly unable to move. I -don’t know where I fell. I know simply that I lay there, insensible, -corpse-like, dead; and, as happens when one had gone beyond his -physical and spiritual resources, a deep, dreamless, annihilating sleep -came over me.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XII</h2> - -<p>How long I had been sleeping there I do not know. But suddenly a -curious, though well-known sensation drew me from my slumber—the -sense of a strange presence near me, and of a gaze fixed upon me. -I was lying on one side, with my forehead resting on my bent arm. -Evidently then I could not see; but the emanation of that presence and -the weight of that gaze impressed me at one and the same time, as a -veritable blow striking me on the back of the head. The experience was -not new to me. Often in a sound sleep have I thus divined the approach -of a living being—though never with such intensity as this. I had -the consciousness that the person who was thus powerfully exerting -his influence upon me could be like no other human being I had ever -seen. And I, who at that time—how unutterably distant in the past -it seems!—was a young, a vigorous, a courageous man, instead of -sitting up at once, and facing my visitant, lay there as I was, for -some moments, with my forehead resting on my arm, pretending not to be -awake, and listening, listening. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> - -<p>Through my half-opened eyelids, I could see perhaps a square foot of -earth and moss in the area encircled by my arm. That earth and that -moss were lighted by a pale, trembling, yellowish glow. I understood -that someone was waving a light above my head.</p> - -<p>At last I did sit up and with a start, as though I had just awakened. -And I rose to my feet, drawing back a step in bewilderment.</p> - -<p>A man was standing before me, a very very aged man; as I remarked from -the long, broad, glistening, snow-white beard that covered his chest -and abdomen. That much I could see in spite of the glare from a dark -lantern which he was holding with the spotlight up-turned into my face. -However, his voice had no huskiness when he addressed me. It was deep -and solemn, but without a sign of trembling or of faintness—on the -contrary, it seemed resonant with virility and vigor. I was somewhat -taken aback, besides, with the curt abruptness with which he questioned -me:</p> - -<p>“What are you doing here, Monsieur?”</p> - -<p>That was not the greeting I had been expecting; and in view of the -obvious plight I was in, I found it quite discourteous. But the man was -at least three times my age, I judged, and I answered as politely as I -could: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> - -<p>“As you see, Sir, I am off the road and quite lost, I fear.”</p> - -<p>He kept the spotlight playing on my features, and I observed that his -two piercing, extraordinarily luminous eyes were studying me critically.</p> - -<p>“Lost, eh? And here! How did you get here, Sir? And where were you -going?”</p> - -<p>I was now frankly irritated at these irrelevancies; so much so, -indeed, that I failed to note the incongruity of such formal and -correct language in the mouth of what must apparently have been a -charcoal-burner of the mountains.</p> - -<p>Drily I exclaimed:</p> - -<p>“I came from Toulon by way of Solliès-Pont headed for the battery on -the Grand Cap. I missed the trail somewhere near the Col de la Mort de -Gauthier. There my horse fell and broke his leg; and I got lost trying -to reach the paths up the Cap, cross-country.”</p> - -<p>This version of my experiences seemed moderately to satisfy the old -man. He took the light away from my eyes and swept the bushes and rocks -about us with it. It was, in truth, an appallingly wild locality. In my -mad race through the darkness I had reached a jumbled region of rocks -and ravines where my presence might well astonish anybody. But I had -just as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> good a right to wonder. How should he happen to be there, too?</p> - -<p>“And you, Sir, what were you doing away off here?”</p> - -<p>He shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the top of an escarpment that -towered on my left.</p> - -<p>“I saw you from up there!” he said.</p> - -<p>And he fell silent, as did I.</p> - -<p>No longer pestered with the glare in my eyes, I could examine my -strange companion at more advantage. He was an old man, no doubt of -that, an extremely old man, as his snow-white beard, his wrinkled, -withered skin, his lean, tenuous hands attested. But he was a -marvellously robust and wiry old fellow. There was no droop to his -shoulders. He held his head erect. His arms were well knit at the -joints and he seemed lithe and agile on his legs. In view of his whole -bearing, which suggested strength, energy, initiative, I gathered that -the cane on which he was leaning he carried not for support but as a -weapon.</p> - -<p>I, a soldier in my early thirties, felt helpless in the presence of -that powerful octogenarian. Instinctively my hand went to the automatic -in my hip-pocket, where only one of the eight bullets was dead—the one -that had put poor Siegfried out of his agony. However, I felt ashamed, -almost at once, of such stupid and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>unreasonable fear of the man. I -again addressed him, and this time with a deferential and somewhat -effusive politeness:</p> - -<p>“I have not thanked you, Sir, as yet. Do, please, excuse such rudeness. -I appreciate your generous kindness in going to so much trouble in my -behalf. I am sure you have saved my life by coming to my rescue down -that perilous cliff. Please accept my deepest thanks. I am Captain -André Narcy, of the staff of Vice-Admiral de Fierce ...!”</p> - -<p>I stopped, expecting that a name would be volunteered in exchange for -mine. But the old man did not introduce himself, though he did listen -to what I was saying with the closest attention. I began again:</p> - -<p>“I was, I am, the bearer of a dispatch to the corporal on guard at -the Grand Cap battery. It was in an effort to execute that mission, -unfortunately still unperformed, that I lost my way, wandered aimlessly -about for a time, and finally lay down here to sleep when I was quite -all in. And now, Sir, might I impose upon your kindness further? Could -you not direct me to the Grand Cap trail, the good one, the one I was -looking for and could not manage to find myself?”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile I was studying the old man carefully. There was nothing -unusual about his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> dress. His clothes were, to a button approximately, -those one might expect to find in such weather on a shepherd, a hunter, -a wood-chopper of those mountain regions; heavy hobnailed shoes and -thick leggings, corduroy trousers and coat, a plain flannel shirt. -But it was just at this point that the contrast between his costume -and the cultivated intonation of his language first impressed me. The -observation caused me another thrill of fear. In my confusion I caught -his reply but indistinctly:</p> - -<p>“The good road, Monsieur? In truth, you are on the bad road, the worst -road, I might even say!”</p> - -<p>I suppressed my uneasiness as best I could:</p> - -<p>“Where am I, exactly? Am I far from the battery?”</p> - -<p>“Very, very far!”</p> - -<p>“Well, but ... what do you call this place?”</p> - -<p>“I doubt if it has a name! At any rate, you will not find it on your -chart!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you must be joking. I can’t be so very far off the road! I must be -somewhere between the Mort de Gauthier and the Grand Cap! Call it eight -miles to the fort ... and you will be putting it high!”</p> - -<p>The fist that was clenched about the cane rose and fell in a gesture of -ironic helplessness: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Well, call it eight miles, Monsieur. How could you do eight miles in a -dark like this?”</p> - -<p>Again he swept the spotlight around that chaotic devil’s dump of -boulders. To tell the truth, I cringed with involuntary terror, though -I did manage to pull myself together again:</p> - -<p>“Do them I must, in any event. The dispatch of which I have the honor -to be bearer is of the first importance. You will be so kind, Sir, -as to suggest the direction of the battery—and I will be infinitely -obliged.”</p> - -<p>The point of the cane swung upward from the ground toward the steepest -of the precipices, the upper brink of which projected out into the -chasm in a menacing overhang.</p> - -<p>“It’s off in that direction,” said the old man.</p> - -<p>I bowed with some ceremony, determined to waste no further time:</p> - -<p>“Thank you, and good night, Sir!”</p> - -<p>Resolutely I advanced to the foot of the cliff, and climbed up to the -first indentation in the virtually perpendicular wall. But a sullen -rage came over me as I realized the impossibility of making the ascent:</p> - -<p>“Off in this direction, eh? But there are night hawks that seem to get -around all right—and with little loss of time!”</p> - -<p>I grumbled the words between my clenched teeth, addressing them to my -own angry self<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> alone. The man was fully fifty feet away and could not -possibly have heard. Yet I suddenly felt the same pressure on the back -of my head and between my shoulders which had been the cause of my -awakening. The man was looking at me! That impact was the shock from -his piercing eyes! I turned sharply about, almost expecting an attack -from him.</p> - -<p>But he was standing just where I had left him, his eyes fixed upon me -with an expression in no sense hostile. Rather I seemed to catch a -smile of kindliness playing about his withered, wrinkly features. When -he now spoke, the same note of kindly benevolence was sensible in his -voice, and the abruptness noticeable in his first questions had also -softened measurably:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said he, “I was loathe to venture a suggestion which you -had failed to invite and which, doubtless, you would be quite unwilling -to accept. Nevertheless ... I should be grievously at fault, were I to -let you run to certain death. I will give you an hour to break a leg, -or an arm, or your neck, in tumbling into one of these gorges. Suppose -you lay with a fractured skull at the foot of a wall of rock—your -message would not be delivered any the sooner, would it? Don’t be -impatient! Wait till daylight comes! And an early morning start will -bring you to the fort and, perhaps, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> time. Try to get there now and -your dispatch, I assure you, will never reach its destination!”</p> - -<p>He stood there thinking for a moment and then he concluded pensively: -“A mountaineer as experienced as I am might possibly venture such a -thing. But at night, over rock that is forever breaking off under your -feet ...!”</p> - -<p>I don’t know why, at just that moment, my thoughts reverted to the -other encounter I had had a few hours earlier in that self-same -neighborhood. I closed my eyes to reconstruct in my mind the image of -Madeleine, deaf, mute, unconscious apparently, running that heath like -a somnambulist.... And for the third time, but on this occasion full in -the face, I felt the impact of the fluid energy which seemed to spurt -from the eyes that were fixed upon me. When I looked up again, the same -uncontrollable terror was in possession of me: the man was in truth -gazing at me—and that was all. An extravagant suspicion flitted across -my mind: that man, that curious old man—could he be listening to the -sound of my thoughts, as I could hear the sound of his words?</p> - -<p>At last he seemed willing to come to the point:</p> - -<p>“Consider, Monsieur! I live not far from here! Would you not accept my -hospitality until dawn? The rain is beginning again. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> will be wet -and cold on the mountains, and it is hardly midnight.”</p> - -<p>I looked around in astonishment into the wall of darkness about us. He -lived near-by? A house, in that appalling solitude?</p> - -<p>He understood my perplexity.</p> - -<p>“Quite so!” he said, answering my unexpressed thought. “Quite so! Just -a step or two! This way, Monsieur, if you please!”</p> - -<p>His voice had now a soft, caressing gentleness; though I sensed an -imperious order in his words—a command I could only obey.</p> - -<p>When he turned to go, I followed him.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XIII</h2> - -<p>Easily, lightly, rapidly, over the jumbled rocks and through the -tangled underbrush, the hoary old man made his way, beating his cane -to right and left to open a path before us. I kept carefully to his -foot-prints, really exerting myself, however, to maintain his rate of -progress.</p> - -<p>Fully a quarter of an hour it must have been that we walked thus in -file one behind the other. Then my guide stopped of a sudden, turned -toward me, and said:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, you will be careful!”</p> - -<p>His cane pointed to some obstacle, or to some danger, just to my right. -Cautiously I stepped nearer, and a creeping chill ran over me: we were -on the brink of a precipice, its edges so thoroughly masked with fern -that a step six inches off the path would have hurled me into a void. I -could not have guessed the nearness of such peril. Feeling the ground -in front of me with my toe, I leaned over and peered down into the -abyss. Along its bottom a mountain torrent ran, black water rushing -over polished white stones. The sheer face of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> the gorge offered not a -projection to foot or hand.</p> - -<p>“Keep well to the left, Monsieur,” said the old man; and he strode on.</p> - -<p>The ground now took on a strange contour previously unknown to me. The -ditched, pockmarked, crevassed soil of the Mort de Gauthier where my -horse was lying, and the maze of gorges through which I had pursued -Madeleine, came to an end. We were now on a gently sloping table-land -broken in all directions by curious blocks of stone. The soil was -overgrown with brambles, juniper, and numerous other spiny shrubs. -The rocks sprang naked from the earth in abrupt faces cut apparently -to geometrical design, triangles, squares, polygons, as though -fashioned with human tools. On the one hand, none of their surfaces was -sufficiently smooth to warrant the assumption of deliberate working; -on the other there was too little irregularity in their structure and -disposition to allay wonder at such a strange caprice of Nature. As -a whole, indeed, they formed a veritable labyrinth, through which it -would have been difficult to pick one’s way even in broad daylight. The -old man went indifferently onward, nevertheless, not hesitating in the -least, and finding his path without effort through this entanglement of -scattered boulders. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> - -<p>Again the topography changed. The monoliths became fewer in number; the -plateau had a perceptible down grade. The junipers, myrtles and mastics -grew stunted and less crowded, and the land was otherwise quite barren.</p> - -<p>If I describe this walk of ours in such detail, I do so in the hope -that some of you may be tempted to seek out in the neighborhood of my -misfortune, the house of which I am to speak. Its exact location I -cannot recall. I could not find it again for the life of me; nor could -I really identify it among other houses you might show me. It is, -nevertheless, the House of the Secret, though all I can say of it is -that, at last, we came to it.</p> - -<p>In the opaque wall of darkness ahead of us a tall black mass stood out -against the paler black of the night around it. First came a hedge of -tall cypress trees, the boundary of a private park, a hedge like the -thousands of other hedges one may find about the country villas of -Provence—the Provence that frizzles in summer sunshine.</p> - -<p>In the hedge was an iron gate, between the bars of which the old man -slipped a hand and turned some secret lock. The gate swung open. My -feet began to tread on a soft, thick sod, unmown. Brushing my head -I could feel low-hanging <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>branches of cedars, pines and cork-trees. -Finally through the inky black of the grove the brick-stone front of a -house came into view. It was so dark under the matted interlacing of -branches along the walk, that I could not isolate a single distinctive -feature on the façade before me, except perhaps the stone stairway up -which I went to a door. There were just eight steps. I remember because -I counted them. One other detail: from the roof, and on my left as I -went in, an indistinct but tall, slender mass seemed to rise, a sort of -tower, or belfry.... Mark this item carefully.... It may help you!</p> - -<p>The door was of heavy oak, studded with iron nails. The knocker was a -hammer and an anvil, the latter with two points and set deep into the -thick panelling.</p> - -<p>As he raised the hammer, my companion turned to me, his eyes gleaming -with an eagerness I did not like. But his voice, soft, calm, caressing, -benevolent, once more relieved my fear, once more constrained me to -resist an impulse to stand on my guard like an animal at bay!</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” he said, “I am sure you will forgive me for a slight -advertence: my father, who is about to open the door, is a very old -man, and his sleep must be respected; you will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> good enough to make -as little noise inside as possible!”</p> - -<p>The metallic beat of the hammer upon the anvil strangely mingled in my -ears with the words I had just heard. It was something like an echo of -the stupor, which, at these strange phrases, struck me like a blow. So -this old fellow had a father, whom he referred to as an old man! If he -was eighty, more or less, how old would this parent be?</p> - -<p>Again the hammer fell upon the anvil in a double rapid stroke like the -ritualistic stamp of the fencer’s foot as the duel begins. And this -double stroke was followed by another, a single one, like the first.</p> - -<p>The door swung open.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XIV</h2> - -<p>The anteroom that now came into view was a spacious one, dimly lighted -by two candles. I could make out a series of frescos on the four walls -above the paneling, which was of some dark almost black wood, oak or -walnut, I should say. Except for the heads of two stags with antlers, -there were no ornamental furnishings. The doors, in some ancient style, -were so fashioned as to blend, when closed, with the sheathing.</p> - -<p>But one detail I did see with absolute distinctness the moment I -crossed the threshold. Standing in front of me, with his left hand -still on the latch which it had just opened, was an old man so like -in every particular to my guide that I turned, despite myself, to be -sure it was really a case of two different individuals and not of one -with an image reflected in a mirror. They had the same long, wide, -flowing snow-white beards; the same serious, motionless, mysterious -eyes. Yes, I turned and stared. Such complete identity was beyond -belief. But yet, they were really two men,—father and son,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>—the son -bowing with deference to the father. In fact, this demeanor on the part -of the person who had come through the heath with me was the means, -henceforth, by which I managed to distinguish the younger from the -older man; though both, to the eye, seemed equally full of years, not -to say centuries, ages; both equally robust, withal, equally erect of -carriage, equally muscular with the litheness of youth.</p> - -<p>I had stopped instinctively, eventually mustering presence of mind -enough to bow deeply to mine host, a greeting which he returned -politely but without pronouncing a word. His eyes, meanwhile, were -surveying me with the most searching fixity. After a time they turned -for the fraction of a second upon my escort, and I understood that they -carried a question, imperiously.</p> - -<p>“I took upon myself, Sir, the responsibility of bringing this gentleman -here. I found him lying out in the rain in the hapless state you see -him in. He had gone astray among the boulders at the outer end of the -labyrinth.”</p> - -<p>These sentences were uttered in a half-whisper, as though the speaker -were afraid of disturbing a household at slumber.</p> - -<p>The father did not answer for a space of time which I found a markedly -long one. Then he said: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Your conduct was quite proper, I believe, Sir.”</p> - -<p>And he too spoke in a half-whisper.</p> - -<p>These “Sirs” between father and son astonished me with their savor of -antique formality; and I was impelled thereby to glance at the costume -of this hoary gentleman who was thus addressing his offspring with the -ceremonious formulas of bygone feudal days. Nothing in particular! A -rustic outfit in corduroy, exactly like that of the “boy”; except that -the elder man wore old-fashioned knee-breeches with woolen stockings -and buckles at the knees.</p> - -<p>The son was meantime recounting my story to his parent with a fullness -that neglected no detail.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur is an officer,” said he. “His name is Narcy, Captain André -Narcy. He is the bearer of a sealed dispatch for the fort on the -Grand Cap, and this dispatch, a very urgent one so it seems, must be -delivered at the earliest possible moment. That is why I judged it -best to offer our hospitality to monsieur for the night: he must have -a good rest to be in condition for a hurried journey tomorrow morning, -when daylight will permit him to make the ascent without such a -distant wandering from his path as he fell into—for lack of a guiding -hand—tonight. For, without any doubt <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>whatever, monsieur met not a -living soul along the trail to set him on the right road. And that, -without any doubt whatever, is the reason why monsieur strayed so very -very far from this Grand Cap where he was going.”</p> - -<p>The innuendos in this narrative did not fail to impress me. I scanned -the faces of the two men, one after the other, anxiously; but neither -carried the slightest expression. The father answered also in a tone -that was entirely normal, repeating word for word his earlier sentence -of approval:</p> - -<p>“Your conduct was quite proper, I believe, Sir.”</p> - -<p>I groped about in my mind for an appropriate phrase of thanks; but -before I hit upon one, mine host, pointing a finger at one of the -invisible doors in the paneling, remarked, still addressing his son:</p> - -<p>“It is evident that monsieur should be allowed to retire at once. Be so -good as to show him to his room, Sir! You will need a light.”</p> - -<p>I bowed in acknowledgement, without speaking. The son was already in -motion, leading the way with the same spotlight playing on the room -about us. Our first steps on the tiled floor raised a curious echo in -that all but unfurnished chamber, the four walls of which threw each -sound back upon us and seemed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> prolong it with a briefly sustained -tremor. The spotlight chanced to cast a round, luminous circle upon one -of the frescos. As far as my hasty glimpse of it enabled me to judge, -it was a mythological subject in faded color and not over-stressed -design—a birth of Aphrodite from the sea, perhaps.</p> - -<p>My guide drew back, in succession, three long thick bolts, longer and -thicker than any bolts I could remember ever having seen. They secured -the door to which the elder of the two men had pointed. A closer view -of the wall revealed to me that beside this door there was another, -similarly disguised in the paneling and fastened in the same way. -Taken together, they might have been mistaken for the two wings of one -folding door, joining very badly, for that matter, despite their rugged -hinges; for a gap of a full inch was visible under each of the presumed -wings, leaving free play to draughts.</p> - -<p>These observations had scarcely flashed through my mind, when the old -man, the father, that is, who had been standing in the center of the -reception hall with his eyes glued upon me, advanced suddenly in my -direction, and his steps, light as they were, echoed about the room -as ours had done. I stopped and looked at him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> With a gesture, and -speaking to me directly for the first time, he said:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, I forgot to remind you that in our house, and not far indeed -from the quarters you will occupy, we have a case of sickness. Might I -request you, therefore, kindly to make as little noise as possible?”</p> - -<p>This was the second time I had been urged not to talk; but the pretext -had been different on each occasion....</p> - -<p>And then something happened ... a very inconsiderable thing, which -gave me a distinct shiver of excitement. It was not so much myself who -trembled, but rather that submerged, unconscious being we each have -within us which watches while we slumber and ever has a memory and a -consciousness quite apart from our waking selves....</p> - -<p>From under the other door—the door which had not been opened, -namely—a sudden draught of warm air came. It was cold, noticeably -cold, in the reception hall; but behind the closed door was a room -which they kept much better heated. Now that draught of warm air!... -As it passed through my nostrils, I became gradually aware of its -fragrance. It was sweet with a perfume which my conscious self did not -recognize, but which my submerged ego at once remembered—my submerged -ego only, indeed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> That is why I had crossed the threshold of the open -door before I really understood....</p> - -<p>Before I really understood, that is, what the closed door concealed....</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XV</h2> - -<p>Beyond the door that was open stretched a passageway, and at the end -of the passageway came another door. Once we were through the latter, -the spotlight of my escort fell upon a flight of stairs, six steps -high, as I counted. I noted also that the treads were of the same red -square tiles as the floor of the reception hall. Only the nosings were -of wood, a wood much worn from long service. At the top of the steps my -guide opened one last door.</p> - -<p>I now found myself in a very dark room, so dark, indeed, that I paused -just inside the threshold from fear of colliding with some piece of -furniture. The man, however, drew aside the top of his lantern and -from the flame within it began to light the three wicks of a massive -iron candlestick, a sort of tripod fashioned to represent three lances -supporting one another.</p> - -<p>The room brightened. I noted that it contained this candelabrum, one -chair, and one bed, the latter simple, home-made articles such as a -peasant might improvise for himself.</p> - -<p>“And I wish you a good night, Monsieur,” said my guide, with a bow. -“Please sleep quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> at your ease. I shall have the honor of waking you -in time, myself.”</p> - -<p>“At sunrise?” said I.</p> - -<p>“At sunrise,” he answered, “or perhaps ... perhaps a moment or two -before sunrise....”</p> - -<p>That seemed to me a very natural thing to say, and I returned his -courtesy:</p> - -<p>“Good night, Monsieur!”</p> - -<p>He went away. I listened to his footsteps as they clacked on the tiles -of the six steps, and then on the pavement of the passage. Finally I -heard the door into the anteroom swing to, and, less to my surprise -than to my alarm, the great iron bolts slide back into their places: -the grating sound they made, however slight, was quite audible in the -absolute silence of the mansion.</p> - -<p>I sat down on the wicker chair at the foot of the plain pine bedstead.</p> - -<p>In sitting down I had intended to collect my thoughts if possible, -bring a little order into the chaos of impressions, suspicions and -fears that were whirling in my bewildered brain. But I had hardly -touched the seat, when an unexpected sensation put an end to my -reflections.</p> - -<p>I had cast my eyes about the four walls of the room where I now -was—four walls cheaply papered in a stock design of loud colors. -Again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> the miserable poverty of the furnishings had impressed me, with -the exception of the antique candlestick. The place, indeed, in its -present condition, had all the appearances of a spare room, roughly -fitted up with these few odd and ill-matched articles. I should not -have thought it strange had I detected there the close musty odor that -one always meets in apartments long unoccupied and rarely aired.</p> - -<p>But that was not the smell that came to my nostrils. Quite the contrary -in fact! The room was suddenly fragrant with a warm living perfume, a -perfume that now reminded me of the one I had vaguely perceived in the -draught from under the closed door of the anteroom. It was not the same -perfume, by any means, though it was of the same general kind, one of -those essences which float about every house where women are, combining -the most diverse aromas into a single fragrance that is the alluring -fragrance of feminine beauty.</p> - -<p>I brought all my senses to bear upon it. “Heliotrope,” I analyzed, ... -“and rose”! The isolation of these two essences seemed all at once to -sharpen my memory of the earlier perfume; the latter, unmistakably, had -been a lily of the valley.</p> - -<p>“<i>Muguet</i>,” I said aloud, “lily of the valley!”</p> - -<p>All a-quiver I leapt to my feet, terrified,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> stunned, but ferociously -determined. Of course! Of course! The two syllables of that French -word, <i>muguet</i>, had brought a flood of light into my clouded mind. Of -course! <i>Muguet!</i> Her perfume! Madeleine! Madeleine!</p> - -<p>It is curious that in the overwhelming anguish that had now seized -upon me, an insignificant thought came to the surface of my seething -consciousness and restored all the coolness and self-control that I had -lost: “What an unconscionable ass I have been! Fool! Fool! Fool! Of -course! Of course! Why did I not get the point at the very first? Long -ago, long ago? After the very first suspicious words I heard from the -mouths of those two weird hosts of mine?... Fool of fools! Why did I -not recognize her perfume out there in the hall where I first perceived -it—before those three bolts were drawn upon me, leaving me a helpless -prisoner in this hole where I am caught like a rat in a trap?</p> - -<p>“Helpless, eh? Like a rat in a trap, eh? Not quite.”</p> - -<p>I was almost normally calm as I put a hand to my belt and drew my -revolver. Helpless, eh? There were eight cartridges in my automatic, -and I had used only one—the one that put poor Siegfried out of his -misery! “Seven left!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> Helpless? Not so helpless as all that? There must -be seven of them!”</p> - -<p>I snapped the lock on the hammer and opened the magazine. The seven -bullets were in place. I threw the barrel back into position and -released the lock again, testing the trigger lightly with my finger to -be sure the requisite free play was there. I put the pistol into my -coat pocket, with my right hand upon it.</p> - -<p>“At sunrise, eh? You were coming back at sunrise, old Methuselah? Do! I -shall be glad to see you!”</p> - -<p>I looked at my watch. Two o’clock! It was mid-winter time. The dawn -would be long in coming.</p> - -<p>I rose from the chair and stepped over to the bed. The sheets were -singularly delicate, the coverlets thick and downy. Another breath of -perfume floated past my nostrils.—I buried a fist in my hot, feverish -cheek.... That bed, so daintily prepared! It had been offered to me! -But for whom had it been made so cosy? Who slept there ordinarily? -And my thoughts flashed out through the walls and partitions of that -accursed mansion to another room, where there would be another bed and -in it a woman, sleeping! Madeleine, my Madeleine!</p> - -<p>The dart of horrified jealousy that ran through my heart was like the -thrust of a sharp,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> white-hot sword. Madeleine! There, in that other -chamber, at night! The victim of what unconscionable sorcery! The -plaything of what loathsome and unmentionable desires!</p> - -<p>But no—my calmer judgment soon concluded. Those men—demons, -perhaps—could not have been dastards in the thrall of lust! That -secret house could not be a House of Love! What was the mystery, then? -What? Oh, what?</p> - -<p>The three candles were flickering at the three points of their tripod -of lances. The door! I looked at it. Here also the joinings yawned from -age. And that would doubtless be the case with the window.</p> - -<p>For there was a window in the room, the room that was really my prison.</p> - -<p>I stepped over to examine it, pressing my forehead to the panes and -plunging my gaze into the outer blanket of darkness.</p> - -<p>Nothing! Nothing at all. An impenetrable pall of inky blackness came -right up against my eyes. A thick growth of ivy formed an outer curtain -over the window, weaving a fabric through and around the heavy iron -bars which guarded it.</p> - -<p>A prison! That was the very name for it!</p> - -<p>I heard footsteps moving softly along one of the partitions behind me. -I held my breath.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> Soon silence returned, complete death-like silence.</p> - -<p>I went back to the bed and lay down upon it, waiting, ready for -anything. I had my clothes and my boots on. My hand clutched the butt -of the automatic in my pocket.</p> - -<p>I waited, my eyes glued upon the door, my ears straining to catch the -slightest sound.</p> - -<p>I waited!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XVI</h2> - -<p>Little by little my brain had regained its lucidity and my heart its -normal beat. Now, outstretched on the bed, with my boots and clothes -on, and my hand upon my pistol, I was waiting, waiting. I noted the -fact: the hand upon my pistol had not a tremor: it was ready to -kill. My Adventure was approaching its dénouement. I would soon have -to fight a battle, where I must needs come off victorious. These -considerations were like a potent cordial to my overstrained nerves. -So cool and collected indeed had I become that I was now prepared to -take everything as a matter of course. I could, that is, restrain my -astonishment, or at least postpone any expression of it. Madeleine, -in that mysterious house, at that time of night! No, there was no -explaining it, with any explanation at all convincing. But, for the -moment, no explanation was necessary, or in point. We would come to -that later—after the combat—which must end in my victory. Meantime, -all conjecture would be superfluous.</p> - -<p>The three candles were still burning on their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> tripod of the three -crossed lances. But they were getting short. I took out my watch and -looked at it. Half past two! The candles would almost certainly fail -to outlast the night. And to shoot accurately you must see, clearly -see, your target! I rose from the bed, walked over to the candlestick -and put out two of the three wicks burning. Then I went back to my bed -again.</p> - -<p>But I had my boots on. My spurs had scraped noisily on the tiling of -the floor; and, since the latter had no carpet, my heels had clacked -loudly as I walked. And that was not the worst of it. As my weight -came down upon the edge of the bed, the spring gave a long, piercing, -metallic squeak, which, in case anyone at all were guarding me, had a -fine chance of being heard, in that sepulchral silence reigning, two -or three partitions away. This reflection had had just time to settle -clearly in my mind, when, and almost as an echo to the creaking of the -spring, the lock in the door of my room creaked in turn.</p> - -<p>With a bound I was off the bed; and I had to restrain myself in order -not to level my automatic upon the door and let fly the moment it -opened.</p> - -<p>I managed to control that impulse. Besides there came a knock, a -discreet, a courteous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> knock, on the panel. The door swung open slowly, -and in the doorway I saw one of my hosts, I could not decide whether -the father or the son, but at any rate one of the two old men with the -long, broad, glistening, snow-white beards. He was standing there quite -motionless, not presuming to come in. His eyes, in truth, had swept -me with a glance from head to foot; and there I was, with my clothes -and my boots on, in the unmistakable posture of a man who had not been -in bed at all, who had resisted slumber, and kept on watch, nervous, -suspicious, mistrustful, ready for any emergency that might arise. I -caught a rapid flash in those scrutinizing eyes, a lightning-like flare -that vanished on the instant. And again a thought that I had had before -flitted across my straining consciousness: those penetrating eyes—did -they not have, perchance, the power of going deeper than my forehead, -piercing through to the secret thoughts harbored naked in my brain?</p> - -<p>And then the old man spoke:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur has not been sleeping. Truly, we suspected as much. In view -of that, why should monsieur pass such a dull time alone here in this -chamber? Would monsieur not like to join us in the room below? I think -that would be far better—for monsieur, as well as for us.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> - -<p>I had regained my composure once more; and I answered with decision:</p> - -<p>“I will accept your invitation, Sir!”</p> - -<p>And I advanced upon him.</p> - -<p>But he drew back, as though to let me pass in front of him. This I -refused to do. He may have guessed what was in my mind, for he did not -insist. He led the way in front of me, with the words:</p> - -<p>“As you will, Monsieur, ... just to show you the way!...”</p> - -<p>On reaching the reception hall, I stopped in front of the door where -I had caught the breath of Madeleine’s perfume. But it was not toward -it—not as yet toward it—that I was guided.</p> - -<p>In fact, the old man went straight across the anteroom, and, seeing me -motionless in front of the same door, politely called:</p> - -<p>“This way, if Monsieur will be so kind!”</p> - -<p>Another door, concealed as all the others in the paneling, now opened, -not, however, into a corridor, but directly into a large, in fact, a -very very large room, which was thus cut off from the reception hall by -the thickness of one partition.</p> - -<p>My eyes winced before the glare of some fifty or sixty candles -distributed about the room in holders along the walls and of two -massive lamps, one to either side of the fire-place. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> latter was a -majestic hearth in ancient style with a huge embossed and sculptured -hood spacious enough, I thought, to accommodate a goodly number of -whole oxen.</p> - -<p>Seated in an armchair and facing me as I came in was the old father—so -at least I decided; but next to him, now, was a third aged man whom I -had not seen as yet, and whom I took for a much younger person than -the other two, though he also was far from young. They both bowed in -greeting as I entered.</p> - -<p>I stopped near enough to the door to prevent its being closed. The man -to whom I had not been introduced motioned toward an empty chair. I -declined it with a shake of my head; whereupon he rose:</p> - -<p>“As you will,” said he, “I understand your feeling!”</p> - -<p>His voice was in a very queer falsetto.</p> - -<p>I saw him push his chair back and come forward a step in my direction. -His two aged companions took up positions to the right and left of him, -as though he were their chief. Chief indeed he proved to be.</p> - -<p>There was a moment’s silence: then this man resumed:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, I must offer you my apologies. It may seem -inconsiderate of me to have disturbed you in your slumbers. But it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> may -be you were not having a very quiet repose. In that case I may count on -your forgiveness!...”</p> - -<p>He broke off, and pointed with a gesture first to the one and then to -the other of his two companions.</p> - -<p>“And pray forgive them, too,” he added. “They are well-meaning boys, on -the whole, though their manners leave something to be desired. In this -they are entitled to be excused, perhaps, in view of the place and the -times we are living in and our aloofness from most men of the world. -Certainly it would be difficult to explain away all their breaches of -good form to a stickler on the niceties of conduct or to some one of -over-delicate susceptibilities. But such, fortunately, you prove not to -be, and I must congratulate you on your forbearance. Nevertheless, I -cannot overlook the first and grossest of the impertinences inflicted -on you. When you were so kind as to volunteer your name, this young man -here neglected to give his name to you. I have reproved him severely -for this oversight, and I solicit your indulgence in his behalf. He is -the Vicomte Antoine, at your service, Sir; and here is Count François, -his father, if you please. And I—you will pardon me—am the Marquis -Gaspard, father of Count François and grandfather to Vicomte Antoine. -There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> you have us all; and now, I trust, you will not impose upon me -the hardship of remaining longer standing. Let us be comfortable! Will -you not please take a chair!”</p> - -<p>The door behind me was wide open still, as I satisfied myself with a -glance in that direction. Moreover, the strange address I had been -listening to had a curiously persuasive quality. I sat down as had been -suggested, and the three of them did likewise.</p> - -<p>“Dear me, dear me,” said the Marquis Gaspard as he eased himself in his -cushions. “You have left the door wide open, and a terrible draught is -coming into the room!”</p> - -<p>Hastily the Vicomte Antoine arose; but he was not so quick as I. I was -at the door in a second and closed it with my own hands, making sure, -meanwhile, that a simple latch was all that fastened it.</p> - -<p>“Thanks, a thousand thanks!” exclaimed the marquis. “But, Monsieur le -capitaine, why go to such extremes of courtesy? My grandson could have -closed it just as well!”</p> - -<p>I was already in my seat again, and the vicomte in his. There was a -period of silence, in which my eyes had time to flit about the room. -A couple of logs were glowing in the ancient fire-place. The candles -about the walls were gleaming brightly. The beams in the ceiling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> were -darkened from the smoke of the open fire during many years. The easy -chairs I found quite beautiful in their upholstery of old brocade.</p> - -<p>And there were my three hosts!</p> - -<p>An uncontrollable astonishment now came over me, something far in -excess of any of the surprises I had experienced heretofore. Those -two more than centenarians in their long snow-white beards were -respectively son and grandson of the third, who seemed to be, by far, -the youngest of the three! His face, smooth shaven, had not the trace -of a wrinkle. There was no suggestion of sunkenness about his eyes; -just as his falsetto voice came from high in his throat without a -tremor and without hesitation. And yet—such the situation seemed to -be! He was indeed the ancestor par excellence, the veritable patriarch, -and of an age that beggared the full many years of the fathers of -Abraham!</p> - -<p>But of what could I be really sure?</p> - -<p>The silence continued unbroken. Now we were in our chairs, the three -of them facing me. They looked for all the world like a tribunal, with -the marquis figuring as chief justice, and his son and grandson as -associates. And I, what was I in that picture? Suspect? Defendant? A -culprit awaiting sentence?</p> - -<p>The silence lasted an unutterably long time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> The three pairs of eyes -fixed upon me eventually got on my nerves. To conceal my annoyance and -self consciousness, I turned my head and again examined the vast hall. -It was a sort of living-room—low-studded—and not a parlor, nor a -lounge. The woodwork on the chairs was gilded, and the upholstery, as -I had before observed, was of old brocade. The plastering was painted -simply, without hangings, mirrors, or pictures, of any kind. Meagre, -also, the furnishings: in addition to our four arm-chairs, two divans -in the same style (an impeccable Louis XV), and two seats of fantastic -form—<i>dormeuses</i>, one might have called them—with complicated -rests for arms and feet and head, and so deep that they might have -smothered rather than accommodated the human form. I further noticed -an old-fashioned clock and a chest, on opposite sides of the room, and -then a kind of horse, or easel, such as painters use to incline their -canvases according to the fall of light.</p> - -<p>I was studying this latter object, when the Marquis Gaspard coughed, -and then sneezed noisily. My eyes came back to him. He was holding -a snuff box in his hand and had just taken a pinch from it. He -returned the object to his pocket, and then began, evidently by way of -introduction: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, I am eager, before all else, to convince you of -our good will in your regard, a good will that is absolute and which -will prove, I trust, efficient. Changing times have done us wrong, to -tell the truth; for to look at us, I suppose, one would take us rather -for brigands of the wild than for amiable, well-intentioned gentlemen. -And yet, we are not so bad as we seem, a fact of which you will, in the -end, become aware.”</p> - -<p>The old man fell silent, took out his snuff-box again, treated himself -to another pinch, and then sat thinking for a moment.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” he resumed at last, “I should dislike being put into the -position of matching wits with you. I prefer to rely on your honesty -and honor as a soldier of France. I put the question quite bluntly -therefore: Was it, or was it not, by pure chance, that you came, last -evening, so very very close to this residence of ours?”</p> - -<p>I did not have time to answer. He silenced me with a gesture and went -on:</p> - -<p>“Of course, I take a number of things for granted. You did not venture -into this retreat for the purpose merely of paying us a visit! Far from -that, monsieur! My vanity would not be crossed if I did not hear such -an extravagant avowal on your part. I am quite ready to admit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> that -before this evening our triple existence played a slight if any part -at all in your normal thoughts and preoccupations. I am right on that -point, am I not? Quite so! So much for that!</p> - -<p>“Nevertheless, it is not inconceivable that your present trespass on -our domains may be due to something more, a little something more, -than plain simple chance.... May I expatiate: monsieur le vicomte, -my grandson, found you some hours ago in an extraordinary place, to -say the least. You were on your way from the Mort de Gauthier to the -Grand Cap? Be it so! Heaven preserve me from doubting your assertion -in the slightest. And yet, and yet! The fact is that to reach the -point where the vicomte found you, you must have proceeded with your -back persistently and repeatedly turned upon your goal. The brush -and undergrowth on the mountains, I suppose, are by no means an easy -problem for the wayfarer. To find one’s way about therein requires -no little presence of mind. Permit me, nevertheless, to express my -great surprise that a gentleman of such talent as I perceive in you, a -gentleman trained in cartography as the members of your distinguished -profession are, should have gone so far, so very very far, astray, -and over such rough and trying ground! My honor, Monsieur!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> Must one -assume that some will-o’-the-wisp, running the heath to lure poor -travellers to destruction, may have caught you in its spell! I suggest -that hypothesis—one I am by no means loathe to accept. So I ask you, -Monsieur le capitaine: Was it such a wandering fay—an evil fairy of -the deadliest lineage—that brought you to our refuge?”</p> - -<p>He concluded, and fastened his eyes upon me.</p> - -<p>From the first syllable in his quaintly formal discourse, I had -foreseen the point at which he was ultimately to arrive. So I was not -by any means taken unawares. His address, besides, had been a long one, -and I had had plenty of time to make a supreme decision. When he came -to his will-o’-the-wisp, my mind was quite made up. Gently my hand -had made its way to my pocket and come to rest on my revolver. I had -withdrawn my left leg from beneath my chair and stiffened the muscles -of the calf. Ready to spring forward and mix in, I now looked up and -answered without a tremor:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, will you not take your own choice? You have suggested -chance, foxfire, fairies. Have it as you will. I have no reply to make. -On the contrary I have a number of questions to put to you!”</p> - -<p>He did not bat an eyelash, nor did the men to the left and right of -him; but eventually a smile<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> came to his lips and refused to fade as -time went on. I got a good grip on my automatic.</p> - -<p>“I have no intention,” I resumed, “of matching wits with you either! I -expect immediate frankness on your part; for you will find it to your -interest, I assure you, not to prevaricate by a syllable. Shall we then -come to the point without evasion? I ask you, monsieur: are you by any -chance acquainted with a young lady, Madame Madeleine de X....”</p> - -<p>I gave her name in full, of course.</p> - -<p>The Marquis Gaspard, still smiling and more blandly if anything, nodded -and waved his hand in emphasis of assent.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said I. “I will go on. Monsieur, is it, or is it not, a -fact, that this lady is a prisoner, at this moment, in this house?”</p> - -<p>The hoary head was now slowly raised, while the same wide opened hand -sketched a gesture of perplexity. The smile puckered into something -expressive of incertitude.</p> - -<p>“A prisoner?” said he. “That is hardly the word, Monsieur. It is a fact -that the lady in question is, and at this moment as you say, honoring -us with her distinguished presence in this house. But if, as I can now -hardly doubt, you chanced to meet her on your way, you must have been -able to see for yourself, Monsieur, that she was coming alone and of -her own <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>accord, without constraint from anyone, to visit us under this -roof where you wrongfully choose to call her a prisoner—as she is not, -Monsieur, my word of honor!”</p> - -<p>Whereupon, he settled back into his chair, and his ghoulish, ironical, -joyous face stood out more clearly against the bright brocade of the -cushions.</p> - -<p>He had outmanoeuvred me in the exchange, and for a second or two I was -disconcerted. Then, however, I regained the offensive.</p> - -<p>“As you will have it, Sir,” I said. “I was wrong, in my choice of -words: I confess my error. Madame de X.... is a free woman here; and, -accordingly, there is no reason in the world why I should not be -admitted to her presence at once, to offer her my respectful homage. -May I see her? I am one of her friends, the most intimate of her -friends, I might say.”</p> - -<p>The smiling, clean-shaven mouth relaxed into a broad laugh accentuated -with little explosions of mirth in that queer falsetto:</p> - -<p>“Oh, Monsieur le capitaine, you are telling us nothing we do not know, -believe me, Sir. And rather, pray excuse the generous liberty I am -taking in laughing at an affair such as yours and hers. I date from -very long ago; and in my day, we were not so particular about secrecy -in such matters. Let us pass on, pass on. I see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> that I have hurt -your feelings by my inopportune mirth. No offense, I assure you. Let -us forget that whole side of the subject. You ask to interview Madame -de X.... Nothing, in fact, would be easier; but unfortunately, Madame -de X.... was feeling very tired, and went to bed, not long ago. She -must now be in her first sleep; and I know you are far too much of a -gentleman to disturb a lady under such conditions—to mention only the -first of many obstacles to your satisfaction.”</p> - -<p>He was making fun of me; and my face burned hot with anger.</p> - -<p>“I insist,” said I, mastering my indignation. “I promise further not to -disturb Madame de X.... if her first sleep is as deep and peaceful as -you assert. But I insist on seeing her—and I have a right to, I should -say, a right which I am certain you will not dispute.”</p> - -<p>At last the smile faded from the Marquis Gaspard’s face. His eyes -settled upon me searchingly, as he replied in an earnest voice:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, you are, rest quite assured, in a position to -ask everything in this house, without finding anything denied you. Will -you follow me!”</p> - -<p>He arose, walked to the door, opened it, and stepped across the -reception hall. I followed in his footsteps in nervous astonishment. -The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> other two men also rose and came along behind me.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said the marquis softly, “you are now able to understand, -I trust, why you were several times requested to make no noise in your -apartment, which is so close to this one....”</p> - -<p>I had guessed rightly, from the first. It was the room behind the -door with the three long thick bolts, from under which the perfume -so familiar to my nostrils had come—the fragrance of <i>muguet</i>, of -lilies-of-the-valley. And it was just such a room as I had imagined -later—a naked, sparsely furnished chamber like the one they had given -to me; and the same bed with fine sheets and silken coverlets.</p> - -<p>On that bed Madeleine was lying, her eyes closed, her lips white, her -cheeks a leaden gray. They had told me the truth, also. She was asleep, -deeply, too deeply, sunk in slumber, a strange, bloodless, icy slumber, -nearer to death, perhaps, than to life.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur will be mindful strictly of his promise,” cautioned the -Marquis Gaspard. “You have satisfied yourself that Madame is sleeping, -soundly sleeping. I may add that she is so greatly fatigued that the -shock of a sudden awakening might be fatal to her....”</p> - -<p>The words were uttered in a grave, solemn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> voice in striking contrast -with the bantering tone he had hitherto adopted.</p> - -<p>From the very depths of my being a cold, relentless anger rose, as a -hurricane of winter rises on an unsheltered plain. Drawing my pistol, I -turned sharply upon the man, my enemy, and, my finger upon the unlocked -trigger, I pressed the muzzle against his heart: “Peace!” I commanded, -“Not a word from any one of you, or I shoot this fellow like a dog! -Now, you speak up, you, Sir, you! And the truth, as you value your -life! This woman! What are you doing with her here?”</p> - -<p>I had my eyes fixed upon those of the old man under my pistol.</p> - -<p>And these began to glow, to glow, to glow! What was happening to me? -For a second I was blinded, dazzled, dazed. Then a sudden panic seized -on me. I felt my prey slipping from my clutches. With my last ounce -of will-power I pressed upon the trigger; but the weapon did not go -off. The eyes of my prisoner had fallen slowly, quietly, deliberately -from my eyes upon my hand. A vise-like grip fell upon my fingers, -paralyzing, bruising, crushing them. The automatic slipped from my -grasp and fell to the floor....</p> - -<p>Then, in the same deep, solemn voice, coolly, calmly, as though nothing -whatever had <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>occurred, the Marquis Gaspard answered my question:</p> - -<p>“What am I doing with this woman here? No query could be more natural, -more legitimate, I am sure, Monsieur. I shall consider it a privilege -to satisfy your curiosity. But perhaps Monsieur would prefer to return -whence we came, to avoid any disturbance of Madame, in her slumbers.”</p> - -<p>My two arms were hanging loose at my sides. And my two legs were free. -Nevertheless I felt bound hand and foot, unable to make the slightest -movement save such as my master, the Marquis Gaspard, commanded.... A -prisoner, body and soul, I obeyed in silence. I walked back toward the -room we had left a few moments before. As I stepped through the door -of Madeleine’s chamber, I experienced a bitter longing to give her one -more glance, one more, one more.</p> - -<p>But it was not vouchsafed me to turn my head.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XVII</h2> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine,” the Marquis Gaspard began, “you are in -a position to ask anything of us here, without its being denied -you—anything except one thing—but of this we shall speak later. For -the moment you have been good enough to question me in reference to -Madame de X.... and I should consider myself rude indeed, were I not to -answer. The explanation may be longer than you expect, I dare say. That -matters little! I am completely at your service; I am ready to satisfy -your every desire! Forgive me this preamble, which may seem long -extended. And forgive me also if I chance to bore you with a narrative -which also may seem irrelevant, but the necessity of which I am sure -you will recognize as we proceed.”</p> - -<p>He thought a moment. Then he drew his snuff-box, opened it, offered a -pinch to the man on his right and another to the man on his left, took -one himself, and finally continued:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, I was born very far from here, in a little town in Germany. -It was in the year of Our Lord....” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> - -<p>The old man stopped. Count François had leapt from his armchair and -extended a broad flat hand before his father as though begging that -latter to reveal no more. The Marquis Gaspard fell silent, in fact, for -as long as three seconds, in the meantime looking steadily at his son, -his lips perked into an expression of indulgent irony.</p> - -<p>“I declare!” said he, eventually, in his queer falsetto voice, “that -from you, Monsieur François, at your age! Will you never grow up, Sir? -Imagine! Do you not suppose that Monsieur le capitaine is already well -initiated, too well initiated, into the Secret? What matters it whether -he stop where he is now, or go on to learn the rest of it?”</p> - -<p>He turned toward me again and repeated:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, I was born in a little town in Germany, as I had the honor -of informing you. It was at Eckernfoerde, not far from Schleswig, in -the year of Our Lord, One Thousand, Seven Hundred and Thirty Three! -1733! Yes, Monsieur!</p> - -<p>“Today is the twenty-second of December, 1908. Figure it up yourself. I -am one hundred and seventy-five years old! Don’t be too much surprised, -Monsieur. Such is the simple fact, and it will seem simpler still, as -I progress with my explanation. If we were more at leisure and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> your -curiosity should extend that far, it would be a great pleasure for me -to give you a detailed story of my life; not, of course, of my whole -life—that you would find a rambling, disconnected narrative, I am -sure—but the more interesting moments, my first fifty years, let us -say. That, however, would take us far afield, and the night, though a -winter’s one, would scarcely suffice for such a tale. Let us keep to -essentials, therefore.</p> - -<p>“My father was a gentleman, a soldier in the service of His Majesty -King Christian VI of Denmark. He had played a distinguished rôle in -the wars of the preceding reign; but his position was not brilliant at -the court of this Prince, who was so wholly engrossed with the gentler -arts of letters, science and society. All Europe, for that matter, was -enjoying a period of quiet; and my father had to make the best of the -situation, however hard it bore on him, a professional soldier. But -the peace was of short duration, as the event proved; and I was just -turning my seventh year when a new conflict broke out, with Austria, -Prussia, and France leading scores of those little kingdoms which -were forever fishing in the troubled waters of Continental politics. -However, Denmark was one of the few small states to keep her weapons -sheathed.</p> - -<p>“Under this disappointment my father<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> chafed—refused to put up with -it, in fact. He decided to go abroad to live.</p> - -<p>“We moved first to Paris, then to Versailles, where Louis XV welcomed -us cordially. A brilliant career was opening before my father, whose -bravery in action soon attracted royal attention, when, on the tenth -of May, 1745, just as the famous battle of Fontenoy was developing -into a French triumph, an English bullet laid him low. To the victory -my parent’s gallantry had contributed not a little, and that, too, -under the very eyes of the King himself. The latter, anxious that such -distinguished service should not pass unrecognized, called me to his -presence, and there, on the battle field, elevated me to the rank of -royal page.</p> - -<p>“This, Monsieur, was the beginning of my real life as a man—a life, I -may add, that was for long carefree and joyous. I can still remember -the placid delights of those years which all France enjoyed under the -Treaty of 1747. At Court, especially, there was one round of festivals, -revelries and intrigues of love, wherein I played my part as well as -the next one; and I may even say that if today you see before you in -my person a hermit, a man, at least, inclined to solitude, the fact -must be attributed to the immense, the delicate felicity in which I -passed my early days, a happiness whose sheer <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>perfection has disgusted -me forever with the banal pleasures which you people of this modern -age could offer me if I cared for them. But why arouse in you the -melancholy yearning for those golden days, which I feel? I will pass -on, and pray forgive me if I have dwelt too much upon them as it is. I -come, then, and tardily enough, to the main point.</p> - -<p>“I said, Monsieur, that after 1745, from the date, that is, of my -father’s death on the field of honor, I was a page at the Court of -Louis XV. In that capacity I was still serving five years later, in the -year 1750. Indeed, it was my honor and my pleasure as a royal page, -to escort the Maréchal de Belle Isle one day into the presence of His -Majesty; the marshall, in turn, leading by the hand a rather handsome -gentleman whose name was quite unknown to me.</p> - -<p>“‘Sire,’ the marshall began—(How his silky wig shone, as he made -obeissance! And to me how glorious his purple coat seemed, thrown up in -back by the studded scabbard of his sword!)—‘Sire, I have the honor to -present to your Majesty, as your Majesty deigned to command, Monsieur -le Comte de Saint Germain, who, beyond all dispute, is the most aged -gentleman of your kingdom.’</p> - -<p>“My eyes, I remember, turned upon the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> count in question. And, quite -to the contrary of his introduction, he seemed to me a man in the -flower of youth. If he were a day older than thirty, there was not the -slightest reason in the world to suspect so.</p> - -<p>“It is surely not my place, Monsieur le capitaine, to play the -school-master for a man of your evident education. I am certain -you are familiar with all that our historians have said about that -extraordinary, that superhuman individual, known to successive -generations, as the Count of Saint Germain, the Marquis of Monferrat, -Count Bellamye, Signor Rotondo, Count Tzarogy, the Reverend Father -Aymar, and so on. No, it was rather out of a sense of filial regard -than out of any desire to enlighten you, that I forgot myself so far as -to recount the detailed story of my first and fortunate encounter with -this personage whom I was later to revere as father, mother, master and -friend, all in one. To be sure, the intimacy between him and me was not -the outcome of this first meeting only. In the ten years following, -between 1750 and 1760, that is, the Count of Saint Germain was one of -the most frequent guests at the Court of Versailles, and I continued as -gentleman-in-waiting to the King.</p> - -<p>“Thereafter intrigues and jealousies had their play, and the Count was -no longer <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>welcome. Unable by that time to live apart from the company -of that distinguished genius, I determined to seek him out in his -banishment. For long my search was vain. Free Masonry, of which he was -the secret General and Grand Master, was keeping him in hiding—as I -later learned, in Moscow, where he was plotting a sort of revolution. -In despair at last of ever finding him, I abandoned my quest; and, -since now the thought of life in France had become intolerable to -me, I decided to return to my old Danish home, establish a peaceful -hearthfire there, and cultivate the memory of the prodigious friend -whom I had lost.</p> - -<p>“This I did. I went back to Eckernfoerde, to my ancestral mansion which -had not been occupied for fully twenty-four years.</p> - -<p>“It was now the year 1764. Denmark was still at peace, or virtually so. -One single army indeed was campaigning in the Duchy of Mecklenburg, -under the command of a young fellow, some twenty years of age, who gave -promise of a most brilliant career in arms—the Landgrave Charles of -Hesse-Cassel, I mean, whom King Christian VII was soon to nominate as -his Lieutenant-General.</p> - -<p>“The circumstance arose eventually whereby I was called upon to pay -homage to His Highness, during a visit which he made, in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>interval -between two seasons in the field, to a palace of his at Eckernfoerde. -Imagine my delight, Monsieur, imagine my boundless joy, when I -discovered, seated on his Highness’s right hand and in the place of -honor and confidence, the man whom I had everywhere been looking for -and had given up for lost. The landgrave himself wept at sight of my -emotion. Saint Germain was then living under the name of Tzarogy, -dividing his time between the general, whom he was advising as privy -councilor, and divers other lords and gentlemen to whom he was lending -the assistance of his marvelous science. Prince Orlof, was among these, -I may mention, and His Highness, the Margrave Charles Alexander of -Anspach....</p> - -<p>“My own disappointments, alas, were not yet at an end, however; for, -many times, I was still to be deprived of the society of this being who -was growing from hour to hour more precious and more necessary to me. -But finally my master ceased his wanderings. Prince Charles became, as -I said, lieutenant-general to the new king, Christian VII; but, though -war now broke out between Norway (a vassal state of ours) and Sweden, -the new marshall was frequently at leisure; and this he spent in secret -labors at which my master and I often assisted him. Fifteen years thus -passed, years as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> solemnly and earnestly happy as the days I had spent -in France had been wildly joyous. Then a horrible catastrophe came to -destroy this long and perfect bliss. I referred casually, some moments -ago, to the extreme youth my master had succeeded in preserving despite -his unmeasurable age. That youth now suddenly began to depart from him.</p> - -<p>“I noticed the change, without daring for a time to make mention of it -to him. But his health soon broke down to such a remarkable extent that -I could not endure my silence. One day I threw myself at the count’s -feet and begged him to be more attentive to his well-being, indeed to -make use of his own science in his own behalf. To my relief he took no -offense at my presumptuousness, and lifting me tenderly to my feet, he -said—in a deep sepulchral voice that froze my blood:</p> - -<p>“‘Gaspard, there are diseases against which the science to which you -advise appeal is of no avail. My wisdom is helpless, for example, -against a secret cancer of which my heart is bleeding: against a will I -have—a determination on my part—not to be well again.’</p> - -<p>“So speaking, he opened before my eyes a bejewelled medallion which -he was wearing about his neck; and in it, fastened to the gold, I -perceived a ring of braided hair. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> - -<p>“‘Gaspard,’ he continued, ‘I am dying! My mistake was in trying to -immortalize, not my maturer manhood, but my frivolous youth. Had I been -a wiser man I should have assured—by a wrinkle or two, at least, and -a few white hairs—this mortal envelop of mine against the shafts of -love; in which case it might surely have become eternal. Now, when you -have wholly acquired my Secret, profit by this mistake of mine, and, as -my heir and continuator, show yourself worthy of the inheritance!’</p> - -<p>“A week later he passed away. To his friend, the landgrave, he -bequeathed his note-books, manuscripts, and talismans (all of which -were so much Greek to that well-meaning warrior). To me he left what he -called his ‘Secret.’</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, when I began this account of my life, it was -to the subject of this Secret, my legitimate heritage, that I intended -eventually to come. I have arrived at last. Again I crave your pardon -for my great prolixity. But without this long preamble I feared you -would not really understand. Now, however, there is no reason in the -world why I should not satisfy your curiosity, and, without falsehood, -reticence or evasion, answer your query as to what I, my son, and my -grandson here are doing with the girl you love, with Madame Madeleine -de X....”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XVIII</h2> - -<p>Once more, the Marquis Gaspard drew his snuff-box and opened it. But -this time he did not close it again. He held it wide open in the palm -of his hand without taking his pinch of snuff.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” he resumed, “I am far from being a philosopher. On -the subject of metaphysics I am quite as unpretentious as you. -Nevertheless, you and I know as much assuredly as any man in France -about the real nature of that undefinable thing called Life. I say -‘as much,’ though I might well say ‘as little’; for no one ever has -known, or ever will know, anything really about Life. At the very most -we are at liberty to guess at a few of the phenomena which accompany -the existence of living beings on earth and which disappear on the -advent of Death. My master, the Count of Saint Germain, never deluded -himself on this point. Once he discovered the path we may follow with -security, he contented himself with not departing from it by an inch, -though the path itself he traversed in Seven League Boots,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> one might -say, burning a very long candle at both ends! In his case, there -was not, as commonplace minds have stupidly imagined, any trace of -sorcery or magic. With him it was a matter of solid science, acquired -by patient experiment—a matter of mentality, of genius, if you -will—nothing more, nothing less, than that. The Secret, the Truth -which he discovered, and which he bequeathed to me when he had tired -of using it, the Secret of Long Life, the Secret of Never Dying—is a -purely natural, a purely scientific affair. You yourself can be judge, -Monsieur le capitaine.</p> - -<p>“Not that I shall pretend to explain, to demonstrate, this Secret to -you with the rigor mathematicians and physicists require in their -sciences. My master might have presumed so much. For myself, I feel -quite too ignorant even to venture on such a task. But, after all, what -does that matter? All you want to know is what your friend, Madame -Madeleine de X...., has to do with it. Am I not right, Monsieur?</p> - -<p>“Very well, Sir! To the point! We, Monsieur le capitaine, you, I, all -of us, considered as living beings, are compounds of elements, so many -bundles of atoms, or cells, which latter come to life in us, live their -lives, and die, to be replaced, in the end, by other similar elements<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> -engendered of those before them. Trustworthy scientists have declared -that the bodies we have today do not contain a single particle of the -substances of which they were composed ten years ago. This incessant -transformation, this constant renewal of ourselves, constitutes one of -the distinctive traits of the Life to which I referred a moment since.</p> - -<p>“This reconstruction, however, does not take place in the same way in -every creature, nor in the same way at all periods in one individual -existence. When a child grows, for example, each old atom is replaced -by several new ones. In old age, on the contrary, many atoms disappear -while only a few successors take their places. Death occurs when the -departing elements are no longer replaced at all.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, this was the special fact which arrested my -master’s attention, and meditation on which revealed to him in the -end the Secret I have the honor to be discussing with you—instead of -sleeping, as I might normally and reasonably be doing, in some coffin -already rotted from the years. And this Secret....</p> - -<p>“I will reveal it to you, Sir, and without flinching, dangerous as that -may be. You, Monsieur, must I again remind you, are in a position to -ask anything of us and always be contented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>—anything save one thing, -of course; but this one thing is not the Secret. So then....</p> - -<p>“If we grow old, or if we die, the reason is that our atoms, our cells, -have lost the power to engender others, the others which are essential -to the prolongation of life—the reason is that our aged bodies have -become inept at a task which our youthful constitutions perform at -play, as it were, without effort. Well then, why not pass on a burden -too heavy for our years to some other body, whose youth and vigor will -do double duty—for itself and us—and quite willingly besides, not -even perceiving the extra labor imposed upon it?</p> - -<p>“I am not sure than any objection, any reasonable objection, can be -raised to that. My master thought not, at least; and I am of his -opinion. So are my son and my grandson here. And I take it, personal -presumptuousness quite aside, that when it is a case of unanimity among -four competent judges, all old men, and consequently the wiser from an -experience not unusual but quite unprecedented, our opinion should be -respected. I venture to hope, Monsieur le capitaine, that you yourself -will share it....</p> - -<p>“Madame Madeleine de X...., your friend, is here of her own free will, -or virtually of her own free will, for the purpose of coöperating,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> -generously, in our profit—in the task, that is, of rejuvenating our -aged substances which, without her, could not recover of themselves....”</p> - -<p>In the pale hand of the Marquis Gaspard the snuff-box cover snapped, -with a sharp though barely audible click; and he returned it to his -pocket, this time without remembering to take his pinch of snuff.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XIX</h2> - -<p>I was still seated facing my three hosts, and nothing seemed changed -between us. To all appearances, I was quite at liberty: no shackles, no -bonds, impeded me; I was free to get up, walk around, make a fight of -it. In reality an irresistible force, a crushing weight, had settled on -my members. I was paralyzed in the most complete, the most atrocious -sense of the word. To save my life, to save my soul, to save the woman -I loved, I should not, even at the command of God himself, have been -able to lift a finger or wink an eyelid.</p> - -<p>The Marquis Gaspard finished his bloodcurdling reply without -interruption from me. I listened on in silence; my face failing quite -to show the unspeakable horror convulsing through my inner self.</p> - -<p>Now this man—this beast—of prey was silent for a moment. At times -in the placid atmosphere of that room I had the creeping sensation of -wings whirring about me—the weird ghoulish flight of vampires. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> - -<p>Suddenly the Marquis Gaspard spoke up anew:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, I am inclined to suppose that now your -curiosity is satisfied; but should there remain some shadow of doubt in -your mind still, should there be any point I have not yet made entirely -clear, please consider me at your disposal quite. In my opinion—I know -it is but a humble one—it were best all around that we understand each -other perfectly, leaving nothing, absolutely nothing, in the dark. You -will be patient, therefore, if I supplement my recent explanation with -a few observations in detail—and kindly pardon me, if I seem to do -all the talking. For that matter, I do not insist. You may be bored -insufferably for instance. In that event you are quite at liberty -to make your escape—you might go to bed again, for one thing. The -narrative I have just completed seemed to me essential to an accurate -understanding of the facts. On the other hand, what I was minded to -tell you now is not wholly indispensable. I should not be in the least -offended if you thought best not to hear it....</p> - -<p>“To proceed then, Madame Madeleine de X...., a friend of yours, is -here, as you now know, to work, with the best of her soul and body, -for our benefit; and specifically for the purpose of renewing, of -rejuvenating, the physical <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>substance of us three. Now I know how -you love this lady; and I am quite ready to assume that you would be -interested in hearing more of the marvelous things she does for us, and -for which we are indeed her debtors. I should feel remiss in concealing -anything on such a delicate matter.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, I shall not inflict upon you a review I might -make—dull, dry, wearisome it would almost certainly be—of the efforts -men—and by men, I mean physicians more particularly—have made to -transfuse a life that is young into bodies that are old. I use the word -‘transfuse,’ my mind reverting to a crude experiment resorted to from -time to time (with no success worth mentioning) and which consists in a -simple transfer of blood from a strong man to a weaker one. Folderol! -Balderdash! Charlatanry! What else could you expect from doctors of -medicine, so called? Among donkeys your physician is the prize ass! And -I cannot understand how your age, Monsieur le capitaine, the Twentieth -Century of Our Lord’s era, can take so seriously these fakirs who, in -my time, I assure you, were appraised at a far juster worth.</p> - -<p>“That, however, is beside the point. I need not remind you—you must -surely have guessed as much yourself—that my master made no use of -medical devices in arriving at his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>astonishing results. His pride it -was to be a chemist, not to say an alchemist, as he would have said. He -was no mere horse-doctor. He was no mere barber. His discerning eye was -fixed on the mysterious depths of the test-tube, not on the point of a -brutal butcher-knife. And he discovered....</p> - -<p>“Just when, I do not know. It is well authenticated that the Count -de Saint Germain lived several centuries, a fact explainable only on -the assumption that the Secret of Long Life must be of very ancient -origin. I stress this fact, for the glory of my master is but enhanced -thereby. Our Secret, indeed, has a number of curious analogies with the -electric or magnetic appliances the invention of which is the glory -of the present age. Just consider then how far ahead of his time this -great man was! But in speaking of electricity I am not, believe me, -thinking of the primitive tricks that were known even to men of old. -No, my master did not waste his time in drawing sparks from a cat’s -tail nor in making bull-frogs dance to music. But he did manipulate -the philosopher’s stone most handily, and he was able to dispense with -mercury when he chose to plate with silver or with gold. I remember -that many a time, just in play one might say, he would amuse us by -transferring the metal of one object to the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>surface of another object -of a different metal; and this he did by means of electric batteries, -of which, precisely, he was an independent inventor; though he used -other processes still, quite as far from being supernatural as they -were kindred to the marvelous. But he did not stop at so little, for -these things were mere child’s play to him. I saw him, with my own -eyes, one day, take a branch from a rose-bush with two roses on it -and one bud, not to mention the leaves, and transport the whole in -some mysterious way through a thick partition, in which the doors -were sealed, into an adjoining room. Little by little the rose-branch -wasted away before our eyes and as gradually reassembled in another -place. That experiment impressed me, I can tell you, Sir; though the -Count assured me there was nothing very remarkable about it, since -any substance could be disintegrated for a certain short length of -time into incredibly minute atoms which made light of passing through -such coarsely textured obstacles as wooden doors, or brick and plaster -walls. ‘The time will come,’ he used to say, ‘when <i>matter</i> and -<i>movement</i>, which, moreover, are identical, can be <i>exteriorized</i>, much -as smells, sounds, or light are normally at present.’</p> - -<p>“It would be scant flattery to your acumen, Monsieur le capitaine, were -I now to fear you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> had not guessed the general method of our Secret. -Just as a mass of pure gold, suitably moistened in an appropriate -liquid and acted upon by a current from an electric battery of an -appropriate force, may be broken up and distributed toward a mass of -plain iron so placed as to be receptive of such action, so a living -creature, likewise placed in a favorable environment and subjected to -a magnetic energy of proper strength, gives up its cells in certain -numbers and transmits them to another living creature stationed at a -point where they may be received and assimilated. There, Monsieur le -capitaine, you have our ‘process’—if I may borrow a term from the -jargon of your modern alchemists.</p> - -<p>“You must be aware by this time, Sir, that I am seeking to hide -nothing from you, that I come down indeed to very perilous details. I -will go even so far as to add that the conditions favorable for this -operation may be found in any room whatever, provided such room be -tightly closed, perfectly silent, and darkened to a half light; and -provided also, it be laid on a line from North to South. This latter -specification is necessary in order to keep at sufficient tension -(by drawing on the magnetic forces of the Earth itself) the magnetic -current which,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> for its part, any strong and wilful man can find in his -own physical being when he so pleases.</p> - -<p>“Now, Monsieur le capitaine, I dare hope you have been furnished with -all the facts that you desired to know?”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XX</h2> - -<p>The invincible, all-powerful clutch which fastened me helpless to my -chair, seemed to have paralyzed my tongue and some of the functions -even of my brain. I was in full possession of consciousness. I could -still think clearly and logically; and I could feel—what despair -indeed was mine! But volition, the power to act, had left me; and -my combativeness, also, my rage, my fury against these drinkers of -human blood, these assassins of the girl I loved, were weakening, -vacillating, melting away into a hazy, vaporous, indistinct emotion.</p> - -<p>The Marquis Gaspard, after a pause, was again speaking, with that same -obtrusive, labored, sinister urbanity.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine,” said he, “at the risk of seeming intolerably -repetitious, I must here revert to something I have mentioned at -least twice before, the fact, to wit, that everything under this roof -is at your beck and call, without fear or refusal, save one single -thing. Eventually, alas, we shall be constrained to broach the painful -subject of that single thing, which, to our extreme regret, we shall -have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>perforce to deny you. Will you not, therefore, carefully examine -your mind in all its nooks and corners the better to acquaint us—and -as specifically as possible—with all your desires? My honor as a -gentleman, they will be satisfied, if the satisfaction be within our -power.”</p> - -<p>He fell silent, and looked up as though expecting me to speak. Indeed, -with the final syllables of his last phrase, a curious, and very -complex, sensation began coursing through me. At first, it was a -sort of tingling in all my veins and arteries, where my blood seemed -to be moving faster as my heart beat with a gradually increasing -force. Then I began to understand: little by little, by imperceptible -degrees, the control over me was slackening; an influence which my -mind could not comprehend was lifting the weight that had settled on -my limbs. I was not free, by any means; but neither was I completely -helpless as before; so that, when the Marquis Gaspard repeated his -question, directly, this time, and without so many mellifluous -detours—“Monsieur, what do you wish?”—I was able to answer easily, -and with absolute sincerity.</p> - -<p>And answer I did—an answer that expressed the deepest, most ardent -feelings in my heart: “There is nothing I wish, Monsieur. Kill me, as -you have killed the girl I love. But kill me quickly: I am ready!” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> - -<p>In reply the Marquis Gaspard, as he had so often done before, laughed -a laugh in that queer falsetto voice of his; and therewith, on the -instant, the mysterious weight came down again upon my shoulders, while -the clutch tightened again upon my nerves and muscles. Once more I was -a prisoner, securely bound, my tongue clinging limp and lifeless to my -teeth. Inert, body and soul, I felt the ironical voice of my conqueror -again laving me with its scalding mirth.</p> - -<p>“My word, Monsieur le capitaine! What are you dreaming of? Badly indeed -I must have expressed myself! Are you not taking me for some <i>feu</i> -Cartouche of the good old days, for some Monsieur de Paris, perhaps? -Hah! Hah!”</p> - -<p>And this time, as he laughed, he shrugged his shoulders in affected -resignation; and I found a certain ironic exaggeration in the sweep of -the hand with which he again took out his snuff-box.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he continued, “I can see there is no help for it. Another -bit of glossing will be far from wasted here. Your pardon, Monsieur -le capitaine, if I, who should not, remind you, that the three men -you see before you are three of the most reputable gentlemen of the -Kingdom of France. This right hand of mine was never soiled with a -drop of blood. Count François here, born in 1770, grew up in the days -of your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> Revolution and was a ‘philosopher’ of the Jean Jacques style -in the days when Rousseau was all the rage. Believe me, what he saw -of the France of that time, a nation gone entirely mad, and bent on -turning into a slaughter-house, disgusted him forever with Samsons -and guillotines. As for the Vicomte Antoine, he came into the world -in season to figure among those <i>enfants du siècle</i> who borrowed the -pen of Alfred de Musset to wring the hearts of an admiring world with -words of tender lassitude and languishing despair. Poor makings for a -cannibal, in truth, monsieur! No, I can see the effects of the reading -people do in these modern days. Too many novels, too many novels! A -bad diet, I take it, for impressionable, imaginative minds. Who said -a word here about killing anybody? The idea of putting you—or Madame -de X....—to death had not occurred to us in the remotest degree. -Count François, as I may have intimated, has a bit of the moralist -under his skin. Give him half a chance and he starts preaching at you! -Well, he will explain, if you choose to ask him, and have the patience -to bear the consequences, how wholly improper it would be for men -possessing the Secret of Long Life, for Men who really know what Living -means, to deprive simple ordinary people of any portion of that brief -course which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> leads them unfailingly and miserably to the Hereafter. -We have the Powers Above to thank, Monsieur, that our Secret, <i>the</i> -Secret, makes (barring a few chance exceptions, so infrequent as to be -negligible), no cruel demands upon us. So far, Monsieur le capitaine, -I have added a full century to my appointed years. Believe me, none -of those additional days have I stolen from the lives of others. No, -we are not of those who kill! Can you, Monsieur, a soldier, say as -much? Many young people, to be sure, boys and girls alike, have passed -through our laboratory. That I cannot deny. Nor could I swear that they -departed thence without leaving something of their ultimate vitality. -But, at the worst, their loss was a very slight, a very unappreciable -one, Monsieur le capitaine; and this loss I might condone with the -reflection that a single extra day of life for an ancient sage like -me ought surely be worth some sacrifice—a sacrifice, I repeat, quite -exceptional in point of fact, since all of the contributors on whom we -draw, having once accomplished their generous task, return safe, sound -and happy to their normal pursuits. Your friend, for instance, Madame -de X...., is by no means so far gone as you imagine. When, tomorrow -evening, she goes back to her home from another trip to ... Beaulieu, -no one <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>will take the trouble to observe that she is lighter by some -pounds than at the time she went away—a relatively few ounces of -blood, and bone, and flesh, which we have claimed from her youthful -substance. Concede the fact yourself, Monsieur le capitaine: your -indignation was a bit excessive. So now, I suppose, we are at the -end of our misunderstandings. From what you have just said I gather -simply that you have no particular desires except, I dare say, an -early solution of your Adventure. In the latter case, Monsieur, we -might proceed. What do you say? Shall we look for such a solution in a -friendly spirit ... together?”</p> - -<p>Again the iron grasp upon my being was loosened for the fraction of a -second; I was permitted to nod in acquiescence.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXI</h2> - -<p>The Marquis Gaspard hitched about in his chair; and, as his body lay -back in the deep cushions, I noticed, on either of the arms of gilded -wood, a small withered hand, the desiccated skin of which, faultlessly -manicured, was as glossy as ancient ivory. The Count François and the -Vicomte Antoine, whether of their own accord or in imitation of their -respective parent and grand-parent, relaxed into similar comfortable -positions, their hands also, broader and less wasted, likewise resting -on their carved chair-arms—which they quite encircled, what with -fingers and palm. I could not help observing these details; for a -clear, definite conviction mysteriously seized upon my mind that those -talons, of such innocent and genteel exteriors, had their nails somehow -buried in every part of my tortured flesh.</p> - -<p>The marquis was again speaking: “Monsieur le capitaine, I consider -you an intelligent man; and I will not do you the injustice of -supposing for an instant that you have failed to divine the nature -of the restriction which I have always been careful to introduce -expressly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> into all my offers of service and hospitality. The time has -come—believe me, I am more pained than you thereat—for us to touch -more directly upon this restriction. As I have repeatedly assured you, -Monsieur le capitaine, our house is wholly, entirely, absolutely at -your disposal; but you will understand, knowing what you know, that you -will never be allowed to depart from it. Everything here is yours for -the asking, everything! Everything save one single thing: your freedom!</p> - -<p>“In thus detaining you against your will, our sorrow, Monsieur le -capitaine, knows no bounds, no bounds whatever. I say that in behalf -of the three of us; for I know that the count here, and the vicomte, -feel the same regret as I. But what else can we do? In our heart of -hearts, we regard ourselves as absolutely not responsible for any of -the consequences that may result from your visit to our abode. Chance, -and your own—very pardonable—curiosity, are to blame. A thousand -to one chance—and it went against you! It was your ridiculously -unreasonable misfortune to have seen last evening something that no -mortal man could be allowed to see: Madame de X.... on the Col de la -Mort de Gauthier. But your bad luck did not end even there. In your -rambling search for your lady, it was your second mischance to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> come -dangerously near our refuge. From that point on we were helpless. -Knowing, perhaps, that we exist, knowing perhaps where we live, knowing -perhaps the kind of visits we are occasionally obliged to receive, you -know far too much, Monsieur le capitaine; for the Secret preserves -its efficacy only so long as it remains a Secret. It must, by nature, -be the exclusive appanage of a few Living Men. Let the generality of -Mortals even suspect its existence, and it is finished. Our Secret, -you see, Monsieur, is an essentially aristocratic one. Its exercise -presupposes the subservience of a great number of inferior creatures, -who must endure labor, suffering and fatigue for the profit and welfare -of a few master beings. I need not remind you that the humanitarian -prejudices, the democratic sentimentality, of the present age would -not take kindly to such a notion. Your politicians, who flatter and -fawn on a vulgar demos more vilely than any of my comrades, the royal -pages, ever courted the <i>Roi Bien Aimé</i>, would tear their hair in -oratoric indignation if they ever discovered that for the past hundred -and seventy-five years one man has been allowing himself to avoid death -in defiance of all equalitarian principles. So much so, Monsieur le -capitaine, that we three, among the most well-intentioned gentlemen in -the Kingdom, as I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> boasted not long since, find ourselves obliged to -hide like brigands in this out-of-the-way spot, and behind a labyrinth -of boulders, precipices and thickets certain to keep all intruders away.</p> - -<p>“In the circumstances, our embarrassment should not be hard to -understand. You have happened on us, Monsieur le capitaine, much as a -wasp might strike into a spider’s web, tearing everything to pieces. If -you were left at liberty to return whence you came, carrying the shreds -of our Secret in your pockets, it would be the jolly end of us, now -would it not? I am speaking, as you well realize, without a trace of -exaggeration.</p> - -<p>“Consider a moment, Monsieur le capitaine! Try to imagine the -prodigies of prudence and cunning we have had to perform, the -limitless sacrifices we have had to make, to ensure our safety and our -independence in the various countries where we have had to live. For -one thing, we have always been moving from this place to that. The -business of a Wandering Jew would be child’s play compared with our -many flights and migrations. But the discomforts attendant on such -things have been the least of our troubles. Monsieur le capitaine, when -my master died, I was still a comparatively young man, and François -here was a mere boy. His mother I had married twenty years<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> before, in -France—still young and beautiful she was, and as strict in her loyalty -to her husband as conjugal happiness demands—neither too much nor too -little, that is. I loved her dearly; and my great joy, at first, was -to think of taking her along with me to share the new destiny I had in -store. But then I reflected: was it wise, was it prudent, to entrust -to a woman a Secret on the keeping of which depended whether I should -come to be another Count de Saint Germain, and perhaps, indeed, an -older and a more learned one? Could I stake, on a female’s discretion -and wisdom, the outcome of a game to last for years and years, when -winning would make us literally immortal, and a single uncautious -word would spell certain ruin? Alas! You understand: I could not! I -submitted accordingly, Monsieur le capitaine, to the torture of seeing -the mother of my only child perish before my very eyes, while, all -along, I could have preserved forever the smile of her lips and the -sweetness of her caresses. Such a price the continuance of our lives -as Living Men exacted. And twenty years thereafter, my son, in his -turn, to prevent the Secret of Long Life from becoming entangled in -skirts, sacrificed his wife. Such facts will enable you, Monsieur le -capitaine, to estimate the value of this formidable knowledge, which -we have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>preferred to two lives no less precious, you must admit, than -your own. I have said two lives, with a view to a reasonable statistic. -There may have been more. A few moments ago you saw how pale and -weakened your friend, Madame de X...., appeared. It is no simple matter -to give up some eight or ten pounds of living substance to another -person.... Then, there are the accidents to take account of.... We have -had such lamentable occurrences to regret, unfortunately ... though -very few, very very few.... In any event, you can see that the ransom -of our lives must be a heavy one, though a capricious Circumstance -has decreed that others should pay it for us.... Alas, Monsieur le -capitaine! You surely will not be surprised if it has fallen to you now -to assume a portion of the cost....</p> - -<p>“You must, in short, pay something; and I am certain I can rely, in -such a matter, on your liberality as a gentleman of parts.... What -puzzles me rather is the kind of currency that might be passed between -us....”</p> - -<p>At this point he broke off, and looked first at the one and then at the -other of his two companions, who, first one and then the other, wagged -their heads in doubt. A moment or so must thus have passed.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine,” the marquis <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>suddenly resumed; “if we -were living a hundred years earlier, in 1808 instead of 1908, our -difficulties would be easily superable. For, I must tell you: this -is not the first time we have been embarrassed by the inconvenient -presence with us of an intruder—living or dead as the case may be. -Forgive my using such a term for you; it is accurate, however seemingly -discourteous. Yes, I remember, to mention only one such episode, a -poor Neapolitan who, some eighty odd years ago, died in our house most -inopportunely. We were living in Naples at the time. The police service -of the Bourbons was a pretty ramshackle affair; none the less I was -afraid of considerable annoyance, should it ever occur to the Gentlemen -of the Guard to ask how that particular person happened to be found -dead so far from his own home. I decided to anticipate any indiscrete -inquisitiveness. A felucca from Malta happened to be lying in port. We -went aboard long before any one in town could possibly have begun to -work up interest in the death of that unfortunate man. The felucca set -sail; and no one found any objection to raise against the departure of -three kind-hearted old gentlemen noted for the promptness with which -they paid their bills. From Malta we took another boat to Cadiz; and -from Cadiz we went on to Seville, where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> we were sure no citizen of the -Two Sicilies would ever suspect our presence.</p> - -<p>“But nowadays, alas, the earth has become much smaller, and the -telegraph, especially, has seriously complicated our manner of living. -Take your case, Monsieur le capitaine. I have no doubt that in the -course of the next few hours, any number of official dispatches will -be sent out over all this region, broadcasting the news that you are -missing and asking light on the mysterious failure of your mission. -There is another difficulty. At the time of our settling here, I was -obliged, through the obnoxious provisions of French law, to make a -declaration before your magistrates, in order to acquire legal title to -this homestead. So you see, the authorities know who I am; or at least -they think they know who I am. You can rely upon it: if you were to -drop out of sight, an army of detectives would come looking for you, -and turn this house upside down from cellar to attic. You know that I -am right. Well, there we are, in a blind alley as it were. We cannot -let you go away, alive and free, as you came. Nor can we keep you here, -a prisoner—or a corpse....”</p> - -<p>Again he broke off. Then inclining his head slightly to one side, and -pushing his lips forward into a grimace of amusement, he laughed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> once -more in the same thin, high-pitched, crackling tone.</p> - -<p>“I seem to note a movement of surprise in you,” he now continued. “I -imagine you are thinking of your friend, Madame de X...., and you -are objecting that she comes here, goes away, comes back again, and -that others, doubtless, of our contributors do likewise without any -untoward consequence resulting. And you are right. But do you suppose -that she or any one of her co-workers knows the slightest thing about -us and about what we are doing, that any one of them is in the least -conscious of the philanthropic service he or she is rendering? Monsieur -le capitaine, our disposition to solitude has always inclined us to -choose very secluded spots for our abode in whatever neighborhood we -are living. The road to our door is necessarily a long one, and our -guests would have good reason to complain had we not, from the very -outset, devised a means of sinking them into an hypnotic slumber which -spares them all consciousness of fatigue. On such a system, for that -matter, our security itself depends, as you can readily see. By virtue -of it, we are able, whenever we set up our household for ten or twenty -years in some hospitable region, to survey the inhabitants for their -strongest and most robust members, to select, in the end, those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> who -are freest and most independent in their habits and manner of living. -These latter, only, become collaborators in our Secret. And may I, in -this connection, reassure you, in case there should be some temptation -to jealousy on your part: Madame de X.... was not chosen by us for her -pretty eyes, though these may, I grant you, be the brightest pair in -the world; but because she lives, for most of the time, quite apart -from any relatives, and because her country house, situated at some -distance from Toulon, requires frequent protracted absences from the -city; and her occasional disappearances are not, therefore, likely to -cause uneasiness in her husband or in any of her friends. I hope, now, -Monsieur le capitaine, that your mind is at rest on that point....</p> - -<p>“ ... as I wish mine were on the issue of your adventure! We have -reached this conclusion in our talk thus far: that you cannot leave -this place alive and free; on the other hand, you cannot remain here a -prisoner, and much less a corpse. Oh, of course, we might conceivably -take unfair advantage of the situation you are in, kill you, and carry -your body to some place where no possible suspicion could fall upon us. -But for all you may be thinking or may actually have said, we are not -murderers, Monsieur le capitaine, nor anything <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>resembling murderers. -For that reason we shall not kill you, even were the temptation to do -so to be very great indeed....</p> - -<p>“Such being the case, our problem is to discover some way of not -killing you ... a problem which I regard as difficult enough to merit -consulting the views of each of us, yours included, Monsieur le -capitaine!”</p> - -<p>The marquis once more opened his snuff-box and offered a pinch first -to the count and then to the vicomte. Then he helped himself; and this -time he sneezed, voluptuously, into his handkerchief.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXII</h2> - -<p>Each in turn, at a deferential nod of their respective father and -grandfather, first the count and then the vicomte proffered their -suggestions; and so long had I been listening to the shrill falsetto of -the marquis, that the sharp, low-pitched enunciation of the other two -almost made me start with surprise, paralyzed though I was.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said the count, addressing the Marquis Gaspard, “you are -right on every point; and especially in what you said of the danger -we incur from the presence of Monsieur le capitaine in this place—a -danger enhanced by the fact that Madame de X.... is likewise our guest -at the present moment. We cannot think of sending her away before this -evening, whether to Toulon or to Solliès. That would expose her too -soon to the fatigue of the return journey. She is still extremely weak, -and neither you nor I, in the very worst circumstances, would consent -to risking an innocent life. Now tomorrow morning, this neighborhood -will be full of soldiers—we can depend upon that. For, obviously, -Monsieur is very close to the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>governor: his absence will be noticed, -and a thorough search made. We have every reason to fear a visit -ourselves; and in such an unfortunate event we shall be compelled to -conceal two persons instead of one: a double danger, if you think as I -think.”</p> - -<p>“I do,” said the marquis.</p> - -<p>The count bowed and proceeded:</p> - -<p>“The path of virtue is not the easiest to follow in a case like this: -no end of criminal or treacherous devices suggest themselves for -relieving us of our present embarrassment. To mention one: few people -in Toulon are unaware of the relations existing between Madame de X.... -and Monsieur le capitaine. It would be a simple matter to account for -his disappearance by turning suspicion upon this estimable young lady. -Can there be any doubt of that? Tomorrow police and soldiery will be -searching this territory inch by inch. On the Mort de Gauthier, not -far from the carcass of Monsieur’s horse—that clue it is too late -to obliterate—they find the captain’s lover! Nothing more would be -necessary: of course—a “crime passionel,” served to the taste of the -metropolitan press! The work of a jealous woman! The eagerness of the -public to accept such an exciting hypothesis would divert all attention -from us without fail. And Madame de X....,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> mark you, would meanwhile -be unable to defend herself from a charge the very monstrousness of -which would quite confound her. That unfortunate girl could never -explain to herself, let alone to her judges, her incomprehensible -presence in such improbable surroundings.”</p> - -<p>The Vicomte Antoine had raised his head: “Such barbarity, such -cowardice, would be worse than murder outright and stain our hands -darker than with blood: you would make us the vilest of cads, Monsieur.”</p> - -<p>There was an abundance of heat in his tone. The count turned toward him -and bowed with a nod of approval:</p> - -<p>“I agree with you, and no rational gentleman devoted to a life in -accord with Nature, would ever allow an innocent head to fall under -an unjust punishment. But observe, nevertheless: no court would ever -convict the lady on pure supposition; and all direct evidence of a -crime would be wanting....”</p> - -<p>The vicomte interrupted: “I grant you that a court might acquit, -Monsieur; but the public never. And this woman, convicted through our -agency of having lived according to her heart, would be the victim of -general hostility and opprobrium. Her honor would be smirched forever, -and her life ruined.”</p> - -<p>“That is true,” the count again admitted. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> - -<p>The squeaky laugh of the marquis took them both to task:</p> - -<p>“Enough, gentlemen! Spare us your preciosities, I beg of you. There -you are, at it again, indulging your usual fatuities in behalf of the -widowed mother and her ten children! Will you gentlemen never tire of -sentimentalizing—playing with those soap-bubbles of yours: Humanity, -Fraternity, Love, Nature? Does neither of you see that the security -of our Secret is perhaps of more importance than the so-called good -name of a woman who has already, of her own accord, made herself the -talk of a county? The solution you have suggested, Sir, is by no means -unworthy of consideration. I do not, however, regard it as the best. -I think that before deciding on any course we should review all the -possibilities before us. It is your turn, Vicomte. Have you something -practicable to propose?”</p> - -<p>The youngest of the three men hesitated. Finally he said:</p> - -<p>“May it not be that the solution lies in the very magnetic forces -over which we have control? I am thinking of yours particularly, -Monsieur, so prodigiously powerful, when you choose to exert them. It -has occurred to me that we might send the captain home, free to all -appearances, but still retained under such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> an influence that every -word he uttered would be dictated by us. We could gain some days in -that way; and then....”</p> - -<p>The smile on the lips of the marquis was almost a sneer:</p> - -<p>“Then what?” he questioned.</p> - -<p>The vicomte failed to find an answer, and the marquis supplied one for -him:</p> - -<p>“Then ... nothing! Where could such a comedy end? How long do you think -we could stand the strain? It is no easy matter to keep our hold on an -old man ready for the grave. Could we, without a moment’s respite, and -till the end of the world, suppress the individuality of a man like -Monsieur le capitaine, youthful, robust of body, and strong of will? -Nonsense, Monsieur! Utter nonsense! Find something better than that, -Vicomte. Come, gentlemen, you have heads! Use them!”</p> - -<p>But the count and the vicomte added not a word. The staccato laugh of -the marquis alone continued to grate through the silence of the hall.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXIII</h2> - -<p>Suddenly my flaccid arteries began to dilate again under stronger -pulsations of my heart. As had been my experience a few moments -earlier, a diffuse tingling spread through all my fibres, and the -paralyzing grasp upon me was relaxed anew. But on previous occasions -my freedom had been only half restored and for very brief intervals. -Now I was free, free from head to foot—a liberty without any restraint -whatever; and the sensation of possessing it was destined to endure. -I raised my head in astonishment. On my eyes the eyes of the marquis -rested; but no imperious commands were emanating from them now.</p> - -<p>A temptation flashed across my mind: to leap from my chair, spring upon -my captors, and, disarmed as I was, make a fight to the death against -them. And a second thought also came to me: the thought of fleeing.</p> - -<p>But I contented myself in the end with a shrug of the shoulders. What -could I do, after all? Speedier than my flight, more powerful than any -violence, the unerring glance darting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> from the old man’s eyes would -have halted me, overwhelmed me—that I well knew. If indeed he was now -loosening the unseen bonds that held me, much as shackles are removed -from a prisoner once the doors of the gaol are closed, I was in reality -no less a captive than before; and any strength I may have had, though -I was now ostensibly free to use it, seemed hardly dangerous to my -three antagonists.</p> - -<p>So I sat there motionless in my chair.</p> - -<p>When the marquis now addressed me it was in a very gentle tone indeed.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine,” said he, “I am sure you are at present in a -much more reasonable frame of mind and that you understand perfectly at -last the kind of people with whom you are dealing: just plain decent -people like yourself—only a great deal older, and with lives, for that -reason, necessarily more precious. Yes, that is the whole question, -really: to safeguard, first of all, these marvelous, virtually immortal -lives we three are living, and then, if, and so far as possible, to do -something for you; just as we always do the best we can for the men and -women who serve us in the manner I have explained. A simple situation, -isn’t it? I am inclined to trust your sense of fair play, Monsieur le -capitaine. You will admit that we have treated you considerately thus -far, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>refraining from unseemly harshness even when you had tried our -patience sorely. Our desire you see, is to regard you not as an enemy -but as an ally, a co-worker, a friend. Fundamentally both you and we -have the same object in view. That enables me, without further delay, -to invite you to take a part in our deliberations. You have heard what -has just been said. Unfortunately no workable plan seems to have come -from it. I wonder whether you, perchance, can think of some egress from -our difficulties?”</p> - -<p>I beseech you—you who read these lines that I am writing, struggling -perhaps to decipher the crude scrawling of this pencil now worn to -the wood, bear me witness that my Adventure was a terrible adventure, -fraught with a horror beyond humanity, beyond life. All that night -long—it was my last night, remember—I was not my normal self, but -rather like a dreamer caught in the terrors of some ghastly nightmare; -and if I chanced, while groping in the depths of that abyss, to forget, -for a moment, that I was a man, and was able to think, for a moment, of -betraying the cause of Men, of Mortal Men, for the profit and comfort -of the Men of Prey, the Ever-living Men, do you who read my full -confession, measure my weakness with the measure of your own; and do -not condemn me lightly! </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> - -<p>Yes, of just that I was guilty! And any crime was in vain.</p> - -<p>When the Marquis Gaspard had twice repeated his question: “Can you, -perchance, think of some egress from our difficulties,” I, yes, I, -André Narcy with lowered head and cheeks aflame, made answer. And I -answered with these literal words:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, open your doors and let me depart in peace; and let Madame -de X...., the girl I love, go also. Give me your word of honor as a -gentleman that this lady will never again be called to this house; -and I, for my part, will give my word of honor as a soldier, never to -breath a word to living person, man or woman, free mason or priest, of -anything that I have seen or heard here, or even of your existence!”</p> - -<p>The Marquis Gaspard was on his feet almost before I had finished:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said he, with a wave of the hand, “I congratulate you! That -is what I had been hoping to hear! Your proposal affords me unbounded -satisfaction: I would fain see in it the beginning of a perfect -understanding between us, with promise of the further success certain -to spring from such perfect accord.”</p> - -<p>He sat down again, felt his pockets for his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> snuff-box, took it out, -reflected a moment, and then, with another toss of the head, resumed:</p> - -<p>“Alas, Monsieur, I am deeply pained at my inability to accept, offhand, -a proposition in itself so generous. Pray do not mistake my meaning: I -have the sincerest regard for your word of honor as a soldier. I hold -for it the same high esteem which you profess for my word of honor -as a gentleman. Both, we may rest assured, are of pure alloy, more -precious than gold, more trusty than steel. I have implicit confidence -in you, Monsieur le capitaine, as you will have the charity to believe! -But—have you considered carefully, Monsieur le capitaine? The Secret -which you would take in trust so courageously is a burden that weighs -more heavily than you realize perhaps. What is needed to betray it? -A word merely, a single imprudent word! Who, other than a man bereft -of speech, could undertake to withhold such a word eternally? Why, -Monsieur le capitaine, how can one deny it? Look at the matter as it -actually stands! I ask you: do you never talk in your sleep? Do you -always sleep out of hearing of others? Can you be certain never to have -a fever, a delirium? That might be enough! That might be enough! You -can see the point, I am sure: good faith, by itself, has no practical -value in such a serious <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>circumstance. It is no discourtesy to you -if we must reject, to our extreme regret, the offer of a promise -which might be dangerous to the honor of the man brave enough to make -it—with the most earnest intentions, as I know.”</p> - -<p>The old man here bowed to me with a very formal deference. When he -proceeded, it was with a change of tone:</p> - -<p>“But, whatever the course we are finally to adopt, it would help -to know with reasonable accuracy, beforehand, whether we may be -exaggerating the probability of immediate danger. Monsieur le -capitaine, no one is better placed than you to enlighten us on that -detail. Will you not tell us therefore: are we right, or are we wrong, -in assuming that, with this coming dawn, a patrol will begin looking -for you in this neighborhood?”</p> - -<p>Without speaking, I nodded in the affirmative.</p> - -<p>“Ah,” commented the marquis, with deep concern.</p> - -<p>He sat thinking for some moments.</p> - -<p>“Your horse,” he finally continued, “they tell me its carcass is lying -out there on the Col de la Mort de Gauthier.”</p> - -<p>Again I nodded.</p> - -<p>His next words were uttered in a subdued tone almost as though he were -thinking aloud to himself: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> - -<p>“So the real search will begin there! The important thing is to have it -a brief one. Time is a capital consideration. The speediest solution -should be the best....”</p> - -<p>He had opened his snuff box, and with one of his fingers was stirring -the tobacco about, absent-mindedly:</p> - -<p>“Beyond a doubt.... The danger will be less in proportion as it be -brief.... Those people will hunt and hunt, and keep hunting for a long -time.... A long time, except on one condition....”</p> - -<p>He looked at me, and once or twice again he tossed his head in his -characteristic manner:</p> - -<p>“Except on one condition—the condition that they find immediately ... -what they are looking for! What would satisfy them? You, of course, -nothing, nobody else—you, alive or dead ... preferably dead!...”</p> - -<p>I was certain he was preparing to broach the subject of assassination; -and I had quite prepared myself:</p> - -<p>“I am in your power,” I observed coldly.</p> - -<p>But the marquis frowned and answered curtly:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, I thought I had explained to you that we would -not kill you even were the failure to do so to cost us dearly.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> - -<p>He shrugged his shoulders; and then, turning to his two companions, he -said:</p> - -<p>“I see no alternative: we must organize, stage as it were, some -ingenious situation, fit to deceive those investigators, who, for that -matter, start with no prepossessions, and are a very ordinary lot of -numbskulls into the bargain. It will not be so difficult to arrange -something. All we need is a corpse, at the foot of a precipice; a -safe distance from here, naturally, and not too far from the Mort de -Gauthier....”</p> - -<p>Again he relapsed into thought, his eyes fixed on the floor.</p> - -<p>But the Vicomte Antoine raised an objection.</p> - -<p>“A corpse, yes! But we haven’t one, Monsieur. Where can we get a -corpse? Can you be thinking of breaking a grave, somewhere?”</p> - -<p>The marquis came out of his revery, and laughed aloud:</p> - -<p>“Antoine, there you are again—the inevitable touch of Gothic! Will -you never get cured of your romanticism? What a thrill! A dark night! -A cemetery! Three men stealing up to a vault with pick-axes.... The -idea is not only romantic: it is asinine. Do you suppose the stupidest -police sergeant, even, would stop at the first skull and cross bones he -came to, and immediately draw up the death certificate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> of our friend, -the captain, here? And that death certificate, precisely, we are -looking for, are we not! For the world, for every living person in it, -Monsieur le capitaine must be a dead man, and of a death as simple and -as easily explainable as possible. Then only can we feel secure!”</p> - -<p>His jocular mood vanished. He looked up at me again with deepest -concern.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” he said, “I am profoundly sympathetic with you! I -realize how hard it must seem to lose one’s self—one’s name, one’s -professional and social position, one’s very individuality. That, alas, -is the lot in store for you! You will be allowed to live—that I have -promised, and I reiterate the promise now. But you will nevertheless -have, in some cemetery, a grave with a stone and an epitaph upon it, -and under the sod, a coffin with your mortal remains. There is no -escape from that; and I beg you to be as resigned as possible!”</p> - -<p>An icy chill ran the length of my spine. For death I had been long -preparing; but I was beginning at last to see that dying was not what -threatened me: it was a question of something else, of something worse, -perhaps.</p> - -<p>The Vicomte Antoine persisted in his objection: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But those mortal remains, where are we....”</p> - -<p>The marquis cut the sentence off with an oblique downward movement of -his hand and arm:</p> - -<p>“Here!” said he.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXIV</h2> - -<p>In the silence which followed, I could hear the violent leap of my -heart and feel the drops of chilling sweat as they gathered about my -temples. I was afraid, with that indescribable sensation of fear which -one has of the dark, or of the ghosts and phantoms that walk by night. -The falsetto of the marquis did little to allay my weird uneasiness -when his voice again came to my ears. He was speaking to me:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, I have been weighing the pros and cons in my -mind carefully and thoroughly. But now my decision has been made. From -it all our further deliberations must proceed. You, of course, can -have no rational objection to it, since you could devise no means for -solving the problem before us when your turn came. You will be so kind, -accordingly, as to consider the present recourse settled beyond appeal.”</p> - -<p>He raised his right hand as though about to take an oath:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le capitaine, up to this day, you have been Monsieur André -Narcy, captain of cavalry, staff officer at the fortress of Toulon. You -are no longer such: Monsieur André<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> Narcy, captain of cavalry, staff -officer of the said fortress, is hereby suppressed, and nothing can -save him, since his life has become a mortal menace to the Ever-living -Man. You, Monsieur—henceforth I cannot call you Monsieur le -capitaine—will continue to live under such name as shall be pleasing -to you; but you shall continue to live here, a prisoner in this -house—at least for a certain length of time; for it is by no means a -life-long captivity that we are obliged to impose upon you. Our sojourn -in this place may be shortened. Out of consideration for you, we will -undertake to limit your restraint to a maximum of three years, dating -from today. We will change our residence as soon as we may safely do -so, without arousing unduly hazardous suspicions. We will take you with -us. Then, on any spot on earth which you may designate—we require only -that it be distant—we will set you at liberty, gladly, and without -demanding any pledge of silence whatsoever from you. Why such a pledge, -indeed? Your story, should you tell one, would be that of an unknown -adventurer—or that of an imposter, should you have the extravagant -audacity to attempt a resuscitation of Captain André Narcy. Thirty or -forty months before this time on this 22nd of December, 1908, Captain -André Narcy was found dead; and, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>unquestionably identified, was buried -with military honors. Such a story, I repeat, and as you know well, -would send you to an asylum for a much longer time than the three or -four years we ask of you. No, you will be silent without a pledge and -silently begin life over again—a new life, which, I trust, will be -happy, prosperous, and free from accidents, even from accidents less -tragic than the one which has brought your present life to an end this -very hour!”</p> - -<p>I had listened, with a deathly chill in my heart. The marquis leaned -forward toward me.</p> - -<p>“Do you accept this recourse—of your own free will?” he asked.</p> - -<p>I threw my shoulders back and mustered the little strength that still -remained in me. With head high I answered:</p> - -<p>“I am in your power. There is nothing for me to accept or to refuse. I -have no choice in the matter.”</p> - -<p>To my surprise, my answer, easy as it must have been to foresee, -strangely disconcerted my prosecutor. I saw him bite his lips, and look -hesitatingly first to his right and then to his left. After a time, he -resumed, abruptly, and with a curious plaint in his voice:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, I am disappointed in you, and I confess to you quite frankly -that this resignation you are affecting does not serve my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>purposes at -all. Remember, if you will be so kind, exactly who we are. In my view, -you and I do not stand toward each other in the position respectively -of victim and executioner. And you have an absolutely free choice in -agreeing or in refusing to submit to what we ask of you.”</p> - -<p>I was quite unable to fathom the meaning of this man who was addressing -me in this incomprehensible language. I made no answer.</p> - -<p>“Once more I ask you, Monsieur,” he insisted: “Do you consent freely -and heartily to the death of Captain André Narcy; and do you consent -freely and heartily to survive him, at the simple cost of a few years -of pleasurable captivity?”</p> - -<p>I made no effort to understand, this time. I shrugged my shoulders and -answered bluntly:</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>Once and again the marquis tossed his head.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, you are making a great mistake,” said he; and his bright, -restless eyes swept me with a glance of severe disapprobation: “A great -mistake, Monsieur! I am a very very old man. May I plead indulgence for -my years and employ toward you the language a grandfather might use -toward one of his children’s children? You are a stubborn bad-tempered -boy—naughty, would be almost the word. You are rebelling petulantly -against an <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>inexorable destiny which, nevertheless, is deaf to the -whimpering of men. Yes, it is childish of you; your conduct is not -seemly in a grown man. I hope you cannot be imagining that a simple -‘no’ from you is going to cause us so very much embarrassment, or that -we are going to commit suicide just because you refuse a real favor -at our hands! Agreed: we will not kill you, whatever happens. But do -not speculate too rashly on the horror of bloodshed which we so deeply -feel. You have little to gain from it. You have been able to see from -what I have told you how little, on the whole, we hesitate where women -are concerned. Nothing would be easier that to sacrifice the so-called -honor of the girl you love in exchange for the peace of mind of us -three old men. No, nothing would be easier—as the count here explained -to you, only a moment ago.”</p> - -<p>And at this point he too shrugged his shoulders. After a moment’s -pause, he resumed:</p> - -<p>“What do you say, Monsieur? Shall we stop all this nonsense, and -play the game with cards face up on the table? Look here: my idea, -as I intimated, is to deceive the civil and military authorities of -Toulon, and the newspapers and the public of Toulon, in regard to -what has actually happened to you. They will, in other words, believe -you dead. Your death certificate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> will be duly filed, your obituary -written, your grave dug, and filled. In such a case, no one will -ever dream of looking for you away off here in this lonely mansion, -where you will continue to live, temporarily, the life that we are -living—temporarily, I say; for as I promised a bare moment ago, -you will be set at liberty again, and as soon as possible, in some -distant country. What is there so terrible in all that for a man -in your situation—unmarried, without dependents, without serious -responsibilities of any kind? Now, for staging the first act of this -trifling comedy, your coöperation is absolutely indispensable. This -fictitious corpse they are to bury with military honors, honors -worthily your due, Monsieur, why—I cannot produce it with the wave -of a magic wand over a cucumber, as some fairy godmother might do -in a Christmas tale; but I can produce it in a manner quite as -satisfactory—only, to do so, I must have your help, a help which, I -repeat, must be freely, spontaneously, proffered!”</p> - -<p>I had listened I know not whether with greater surprise or alarm. At -his concluding words I saw the Count François and the Vicomte Antoine -turn with one movement toward their respective parent and grandparent, -their eyes aflame with a sudden intelligence as though some revelation -which had not yet dawned on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> me had come to them. Once more I mustered -all the forces of my faltering will; and I said:</p> - -<p>“Why all this beating about the bush? You have the upper hand. Why so -particular about the precise form of blackmail you will eventually -resort to? I have already offered my life in ransom for the life of -Madame de X....? Do you want me to repeat that offer? Very well! I am -still ready. Do your will upon me!”</p> - -<p>Several times the Marquis Gaspard waved a broad wide-open hand from -right to left, each gesture timed to an exclamation of protest:</p> - -<p>“Tic tac too! Did ever you see a worse case of balkiness? Monsieur, -for the dozenth time, and as you know perfectly well: nobody but you -has raised the question of throat-cutting! No, it’s a simple matter -of what you call, with some generosity I must say, the good name of -a woman; which presumptive good name is to be saved or sacrificed, -as you chance to decide, and at a price of which you are thoroughly -aware. However, I will concede a point: once this so-called good name -has been saved, I will, if you think it in the least important, add -the further stipulation that the object of your concern shall never -again be invited to this place, that she shall henceforth and forever -be excused from that special collaboration with us which, a few moments -ago, seemed to arouse in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> you a very understandable compassion. What -more can you ask, Monsieur? The question may now be stated thus: will -you pay for madame, or shall madame pay for you?”</p> - -<p>He had not completed the antithesis before I nodded in assent. The -marquis rose: “I thank you,” said he with great solemnity. “I have your -word of honor. Between a man like you and a man like me that is quite -enough.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the count and the vicomte had also risen to their feet.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” said the marquis to them in a tone of command, “I noticed -that you at last had understood me. Be so good, accordingly, as to -attend to all the preparations necessary for the work that is now -before us. No time must be lost, since the dawn is close at hand. For -my part I must rest a moment, to collect myself.”</p> - -<p>He had stepped over, meanwhile, to one of the <i>dormeuses</i> of the -complicated backs and arm rests, the curious design of which had -attracted my attention when I first came into the room. He sat down, -or rather, he buried himself, in one of these chairs. I saw him relax -against the cushions, which seemed calculated to fit every projection -and indentation of his form.</p> - -<p>There he rested, with arms folded and eyes closed.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXV</h2> - -<p>While I waited, seated in my chair, looking on at everything intently, -the Count François and the Vicomte Antoine silently applied themselves -to a series of mysterious activities. First they took up each piece -of furniture and moved it away from the center of the hall, standing -the chairs in line against the wall, and leaving the whole floor clear -as if in preparation for a ball. Next, and still without exchanging -a syllable, evidently repeating an operation learned from long -experience, they brought out the horse, or easel, of which I have -spoken, and set it up, being careful to adjust it with precision to -the longitudinal axis of the hall, at a point about a third way down -the length thereof. Next they opened the antique chest, and drew from -it a curious object which they handled with great care, carrying it, -with visible effort, to the foot of the horse on which they finally -erected it in a vertical position. I noted that this object was about -as large as an ordinary cart wheel, that it was flat and circular. A -sort of lens, I judged it to be, much like the glass reflector of a -powerful <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>searchlight. Its substance was not crystal, however, but -a material which I could not identify, something translucent rather -than transparent, colorless when viewed with even light, but otherwise -showing brilliant metallic glints, shading from ruby red to emerald -green with a profusion of all the tints of gold. This lustre, moreover, -stood out against the colorless background, as if it came from matter -distinct from the disk itself, though incorporated in the latter’s -substance. You are doubtless acquainted with Danzig brandy, a liquor -which seems filled with particles of floating gold; or with samples -of Leyden ware showing bits of crumpled tinsel sprinkled through the -glass. Such was the dish, or lens, in question.</p> - -<p>Finally the two old men stepped cautiously up to their respective -father and grandfather, still rigorously motionless in his strange -<i>dormeuse</i>; and avoiding the slightest noise, they slowly, gently, -wheeled him towards a point on the floor which I noticed was marked -off, with geometrical exactitude, by four plaques of glass—one -apparently for each of the four legs of the chair. Indeed, when they -had pushed the old man to the square, the count and the vicomte kneeled -on the floor to make sure that each castor was in the right position. -From all their movements I could see that the operation they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> were -about to perform was one requiring meticulous accuracy. This chair in -place, they turned to the second <i>dormeuse</i>, which, though empty, was -advanced just as carefully and noiselessly, and its position verified -with just as thorough an examination.</p> - -<p>Whereupon, the two old men returned to the seats they had previously -occupied, now, however, sitting with their backs against the wall and -their faces turned toward me. During all this time, I, for my part, -had not stirred; nor had I been once disturbed or caused to change my -position in the slightest.</p> - -<p>I sat there, observing intently. Things were now arranged as follows -in the room: the two <i>dormeuses</i> and the horse stood at three points -on a straight line running lengthwise of the hall. The two seats faced -each other, with the horse between them but nearer to one than to the -other. Assuming the lens to be a refractor, I concluded from a rough -computation of the angles, that the image passing through it from one -chair would fall exactly into the other.</p> - -<p>However, the Marquis Gaspard, his body still relaxed and his eyes -closed, continued to give not a sign of life.</p> - -<p>A long silence ensued.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXVI</h2> - -<p>A long, long silence....</p> - -<p>At first I struggled with all my soul to keep cool and indifferent, -preserving on my features the mask of disdain which I had somehow -imprinted there. But little by little I could feel that the hold I had -on my nerves was growing steadily weaker. My Adventure was beginning -to show a semi-supernatural aspect the very indefiniteness of which -gradually paralyzed my courage as my motor centers had been paralyzed -an hour or more before. So much so that eventually I grew alarmed -lest my captors perceive the uncontrollable anxiety that was taking -possession of me: I suddenly arose, and with the idea of hiding the -expression on my face, I walked several steps away down the room.</p> - -<p>Still without moving, asleep perhaps, the Marquis Gaspard seemed not -to notice. Not so the Count François nor the Vicomte Antoine, however. -They, with a perfection of courtesy and with no trace of irony so -far as I could see, inquired as to whether I were tired, or indeed -impatient.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” the count spoke up solicitously,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> “be so kind as to excuse -the slowness of all this. If I have accurately divined my father’s -idea, I assure you it is a very bold one, and care in preparation is a -matter of unavoidable necessity. We have before us, unless I am quite -mistaken, one of the most delicate operations magnetic science knows; -and the Marquis Gaspard, with a proper caution, is summoning every -particle of energy at his command. Believe me, Monsieur: he will need -it all!”</p> - -<p>I had stopped, and was looking at the man as he began speaking; but my -eyes now turned instinctively toward the strange apparatus which he and -his son had but recently put in position on the easel.</p> - -<p>“That lens which you are examining,” the Vicomte Antoine explained, “is -used for concentrating the magnetic flow on the spot desired. It is -made of a special compound invented by the Count de Saint Germain, and -it has the power of refracting electrical waves just as glass refracts -rays of light. By such inventions and after numberless unsuccessful -experiments, the famous count, and my grandfather in his footsteps, -were enabled to master the natural magnetism they possessed in their -own bodies, and in consequence to obtain results which are rivalled -by nothing that your alienists, your psychiatrists—that is what you -call<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> them, is it not?—nor even your wonder-working mediums, have ever -dreamed of. You will soon be convinced, I warrant you. The operation -that is probably to be tried tonight will furnish you with a prodigious -demonstration!”</p> - -<p>In spite of my ghastly desperation, I raised my eyebrows inquiringly. -The vicomte shook his head, with a significant nod towards his -grandfather.</p> - -<p>“The marquis did not deem fit to discuss his project with us, nor -even to reveal it in any precise detail to you. I should hardly -regard myself as authorized to go into the matter more fully at -present; but without divulging anything essential, I may ask -whether you are familiar with a term from the jargon of the occult -sciences—‘exteriorization’? You must have witnessed, at one time or -another, the evocation of a so-called spirit by a medium?”</p> - -<p>The question seemed so utterly inane that I did not answer.</p> - -<p>“I have, anyway,” the vicomte continued, overlooking my silence. “I -remember having seen something of the sort with my own eyes. Two -fairly skillful performers, one of whom called himself a medium, were -entertaining a number of people, myself among them, in a darkened room -in Paris; and one day they actually succeeded in producing a luminous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> -shadow of an approximately human form; and this, they claimed, was -the ghost of I forget what famous personage. That part of it was all -a hoax, of course; though the shadow itself was not by any means. You -could see it as plain as day, and almost touch it. There is no doubt in -my mind that the practitioner in question was in possession of some of -the same processes which we are using all the time, and got this shadow -from his colleague by a kind of ‘exteriorization,’ as they call it. -This, to be sure, was all a very crude affair; but it does suggest some -of the things we do in getting our life-workers to surrender a certain -number of their cells or atoms to us; and it resembles more closely -still the method we shall employ in a few moments ... but I think I -have said too much already....”</p> - -<p>He stopped, with an expression of mortification on his face; and the -Count François spoke up, as though to detract attention from his son’s -last words:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, it is hardly worth while to discuss that subject now, -inasmuch as you will have full light upon it soon. I am going to seize -this opportunity to congratulate you. Whatever you may be thinking of -your experiences this night, it is really a piece of singular good -fortune that has befallen you. Here you are an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> ordinary mortal, thrown -by accident into the company of the Ever-living Men and forced, by an -equally fortunate train of events, to share their lives for a certain -length of time. Oh no, I beg of you—do not imagine I am bantering! -Just consider! You people can count on less than a hundred years of -life; and you are obliged, in consequence, to live in a perpetual -hurry, thinking, talking, acting forever in a rush, bolting your -daily bread, so to speak. Since you have to live rapidly in order to -live at all, you never really know what living means, nor do you ever -taste the infinite sweetness that life holds at bottom. Monsieur, -the besetting thought that death is nearer by each moment must quite -inhibit meditation and soil every leisure hour; and thoughtful idleness -I regard as the one true delight, which far outstrips in consoling -power the false and disappointing joys of sensuous indulgence. In -enjoining on us to perpetuate not our youth but our maturer manhood, -the Count de Saint Germain thought he was imposing on us a painful -sacrifice that would, however, in the end prove well worth while. -Over a long period of years, he himself had never tired of a most -stormy voyage on the seas of human passion; and he ended in shipwreck -on the shoals laid in his course by a tress of golden hair. I wonder -if he ever realized<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> that he was missing the haven of real happiness -through fundamental misapprehension on his own part of the relative -value of things? Now to judge by the interest you seem to show in a -certain woman—a good-looking woman, I grant you, but noteworthy in no -other way that I can see—you must still be ignorant of the fatuity -of carnal satisfactions, when these are compared with the joys that -purely spiritual pleasures bring—through eyes, for example, that have -learned to sense the simple yet sublime beauties of a sky reddened by -the setting sun or of clouds touched with silver by a rising moon!”</p> - -<p>The Vicomte Antoine raised an arm in a gesture of sanguine enthusiasm:</p> - -<p>“The savor of such enjoyments never cloys, Monsieur; and while you -are our guest, I hope to have the opportunity of revealing to you two -wonders that Mortal Men have never learned to taste: Night, Monsieur, -and Day. The age to which you belong has stubbornly and blindly limited -its vision to the mechanical arts, seeking an absurd perfection of -bodily comfort and well-being which is useless and contemptible once -it has been attained. Your generation has quite lost sight of the -gratifications that naturally come to life; and, losing these from -view, it has of course lost the power to appreciate them. You, for -instance, just a few hours ago, were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> walking with me out on the -heath. It was raining and the night was menacing with storm. I am sure -your mind was engrossed with the slippery muddy path, the cold wet -bushes—all the discomforts, in short. Did you once raise your eyes to -the romantic splendors with which we were surrounded—those frowning -brows of the hills, their crests piercing the pearly mantle of mist and -fog in aspiration toward that upper wrapping of transparent silver that -Nature throws over her chilly shoulders?...”</p> - -<p>I listened on in an amazement that for the moment quite mastered my -anxiety. These atrocious demons, these vampires, cannibals indeed since -they lived, after all, on human flesh and blood—how could they bring -themselves to affect such delicate and poetic hypocrisies? And my -thoughts went out to all the pitiable victims who entered that accursed -House of the Secret, strong robust young men and women, and left it -pale, fainting, emaciated invalids; all to the end that three beasts -of prey might eschew “the false and disappointing joys of sensuous -indulgence” for the higher ones that “purely spiritual pleasures bring.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXVII</h2> - -<p>The Count François stopped and looked at his father who still sat, or -lay, motionless as a corpse in that singular <i>dormeuse</i>, half chair, -half couch. Had there appeared on those utterly blank features some -expression which I had not perceived? The count, at any rate, turned at -once toward me, and said:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, we are almost ready. Think again, I beg of you. Is there -really nothing you would like before the operation begins? Is there -anything we can do for you within the limits you now know? Our earnest -wish is to satisfy your slightest desire, if possible; and we hope you -will enable us to demonstrate our best good will!”</p> - -<p>I was about to shake my head from right to left, in sign of refusal, -when an idea flashed across my mind, setting my whole being afire with -a sudden glow. I checked myself, my eyes fixed upon my interlocutor, -one hand raised, my lips opening to form a word.</p> - -<p>“Do not hesitate, Monsieur,” the count encouraged.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” said I, with decision, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> sweeping all three of them -with a rapid glance, “Gentlemen, there is one favor you could do me, -a favor which I trust you will have no difficulty in according, such -immense store do I set upon it. Grant me this boon I ask, and I am -ready to repay you not with my passive consent merely, but with my most -active and sincere assistance in whatever you intend to do with me—be -it even against my life. Look, gentlemen: some time ago you allowed -me, did you not, to visit the room where my friend Madame de X.... is -sleeping, perhaps in an hypnotic trance. My desire, my fervent prayer -is to see her ... once more ... for one last time; but I must see her -natural self, awake, that is, conscious, living, so that I may speak -to her and hear her speak to me, that I may bid her farewell, forever, -and spend one short hour alone, alone, with her. An hour, yes, just -one hour. Then ... I shall be at your service, your man, your chattel, -anything you wish, for as long a time as you wish.”</p> - -<p>I fell silent, crossing my arms upon my chest. Neither the count nor -the vicomte replied for a moment; and I could see them consulting each -other out of the corners of their eyes. Then, as they had so often done -before, they turned toward their respective father and grandfather, and -questioned him in silence. Again there was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> no change that I could see -on that inert and expressionless countenance; and the old man’s eyelids -remained firmly closed. But the Count François must have seen something -that I did not see; for he addressed me straightway and without the -shadow of incertitude:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said he, “your wish shall be granted. We will do as you -propose.”</p> - -<p>A thrill of undescribable emotion swept over me. The count meanwhile -held his gaze intently fixed upon his father’s face, interpreting to me -the decision he found written there:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” he repeated, “we shall do as you propose. We shall have -the honor of escorting you to the room where Madame de X.... is -sleeping. We shall leave you alone with her. As soon as we are gone, -she, according to your request, will regain consciousness, and you will -be free to converse with her on any subject without any restriction -whatsoever. Do not be surprised, Monsieur. During your visit Madame -de X.... will be her material self, awake, conscious, living, as you -have asked. She will know that you are there, and she will be glad to -see you. But of course she will still have over her eyes the invisible -blinder that we have placed upon them. She will not know where she -is, and will not find it extraordinary to be meeting you in a strange -room. Indeed it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> will not be strange to her. She will take it for her -own or for yours. She will, in short, be unaware of everything which -the vital interest of the Ever-living Men requires her not to know. -Supposing, for example, you were to spend your time and pains in trying -to enlighten this beneficent unconsciousness of hers. You will not -succeed, I warn you in advance, for, at the end of the sixtieth minute, -Madame de X.... will fall asleep again, as we have bargained, and will -lose all memory of this talk with you, which memory will be erased from -her mind, rendered absolutely null and nil forever ... Monsieur, will -you be so kind as to step this way?...”</p> - -<p>He was already on the threshold, and, with the younger man leading, he -crossed the same anteroom again. I followed close behind him. I am sure -I staggered as I walked along.</p> - -<p>Outside the badly jointed door, the familiar perfume that I loved came -to my nostrils in warm subtle waves of fragrance. I thought I was -fainting as I breathed it in.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” the Count François was now saying in a low voice, -“Monsieur, for the duration of one hour, please consider this your -house!”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XVIII</h2> - -<p>She was still asleep, lost in that terrible slumber which, assuredly -was more like death than like life. Her black eyelids, her livid lips, -her ashen cheeks, her cold flesh, I scanned vehemently for some faint, -deep-seated flush that would bespeak the coursing of a little blood, at -least, through a few of her arteries.... In vain! In vain!</p> - -<p>An endless minute passed. I had bent forward over the bed to gaze -upon her, not daring to stir the coverlets with the merest touch of -my fingers. Finally, from her sunken chest the sound of stronger -breathing seemed to come; and simultaneously on both her cheeks I could -distinguish the pallid but reassuring blush I had waited for, so long, -so ardently....</p> - -<p>What now took place was like a swift, miraculous resurrection. Her -whole countenance regained its color gradually, her pulse beat more -strongly, her beautiful breast began to raise the comforters in a -regular rhythmic heaving. I lowered my head till my face almost rested -on her eyelids, my lips ready to welcome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> with a kiss the first opening -of her eyes; I could feel the vital warmth again returning to her -forehead and cheeks. She sighed inaudibly and her lips sketched a -smile. I could restrain my caress no longer. It was under a passionate -shower of kisses from me that she returned to consciousness....</p> - -<p>Oh gods of Heaven and Hell! All this was but a few weeks ago! Yet how -many ages have died, how many aeons have sunk into eternity, since that -kiss was mine?</p> - -<p>She said:</p> - -<p>“Oh, I have been asleep!... And you were here, saucy boy!”</p> - -<p>She knotted her silken arms about my neck; and I felt her body—how -light, how alarmingly light it was!—stiffen a little as she drew -herself up languidly under the coverlets....</p> - -<p>She also said:</p> - -<p>“Dearest, dearest love!... Oh, how tired I am!... It seems as though -I could never again lift my head or stir a finger!... Never, never -again!... But you love your poor little girl, don’t you?... Look out, -Monsieur! Perhaps your doll is broken!...”</p> - -<p>She said no more—just then; because my lips had smothered her last -words.</p> - -<p>As she sat up, I piled the pillows behind her. Her hair of greenish -gold poured in a sparkling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> torrent down over her body. Her white -arms still encircled my neck. She laughed—that laugh of mischievous -girlish gaiety which I had always so much adored in her. I released -myself from her embrace; and resting a knee upon the bed, and throwing -an arm around her wonderful shoulders, I plunged my gaze into the -bright lucid depths of her eyes.... And I forgot, I forgot, everything, -everything!...</p> - -<p>She said:</p> - -<p>“Why, my hair is all down! I seem to have lost every comb, every pin to -my name!” And she laughed aloud.</p> - -<p>I listened with all my soul.</p> - -<p>She drew up higher on the pillows, with an effort that brought the -pallor to her face again. She cast a nervous glance about the room. I -was afraid lest she perceive the bare walls, the grated window, the -single wicker chair—afraid lest, perceiving them, she take fright -at her strange surroundings, and kill the smile of trustfulness and -confidence that lingered entrancingly on her lips.... But no! The -invisible blinder was securely fastened upon her eyes. She saw nothing -unusual in that chamber which was our prison.</p> - -<p>She asked simply:</p> - -<p>“What time is it? Surely not yet seven o’clock?” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> - -<p>When I answered I too summoned a smile:</p> - -<p>“It’s early still, my silly, charming, little girl....”</p> - -<p>With a toss of her head, she shook from her face a few golden tresses -that had strayed there—they shone with all the splendor of the -sun—and sinking back deliciously upon the pillows, on which her light, -her exceedingly light form left scarcely any imprint, she observed:</p> - -<p>“I’m glad of that ... I can stay in bed a moment longer.... If I -overslept, I might be late for dinner.... How tired I am! If you only -knew how tired, tired, tired I am!”</p> - -<p>She did not move again, but lay there passively, happily, submissive to -the kisses which I rained upon her, though barely pressing my lips to -her tortured wasted flesh.</p> - -<p>No, I would tell her nothing! I would be very careful not to tell -her anything! She did not suspect in the least. And what an immense -good fortune that she did not know! Why enlighten her, indeed? No! -My despair, my terror, my mortal danger, that must all remain for me -alone! And she would never, never know! Since I was alone condemned, -I alone would bear the horrors of my destiny. She, free, unknowing, -redeemed, would be on her way back ... toward life! I alone would stay -behind, silently turning my footsteps toward ... <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>nonentity!... But -for my silence I would be repaid with one supreme reward; the almost -unbearable intoxication of this last love tryst, which would come to me -pure, spotless, undisturbed, without a shadow of any kind upon it....</p> - -<p>She was becoming more and more wakeful, and now was chatting with a -ripple of words, words of no import, that entered like little gleams of -freedom into the darkness of our prison.</p> - -<p>She said:</p> - -<p>“Imagine, dearest! At my dressmaker’s last Tuesday....”</p> - -<p>And later on:</p> - -<p>“You know very well whom I mean! Marie Thérèse, the ugly thing! I saw -her! She was making up to you under my very nose, at the Squadron -Ball....”</p> - -<p>And again:</p> - -<p>“The next time we go for a ride....”</p> - -<p>I, meanwhile, kept drawing my two hands down caressingly over her -silky hair and silky arms, hungrily absorbing every possible sensation -of that living reality which was in her as her very self.... And I -thought.... What was I, indeed, but a corpse, listening from the depths -of a grave to living beings conversing on the sod overhead ...? </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> - -<p>Yes, a corpse....</p> - -<p>My gaze was fixed upon her bright sea-green eyes, and upon her -delicate, gaily chirping lips; and within me was a scream of desperate -anguish!</p> - -<p>“You, you are my destroyer ... you! You crossed my path, and I followed -you; and you guided me, almost by the hand, to the yawning gateway -of the tomb! Yes, that was true: a will-o’-the-wisp of the deadliest -lineage, leading the luckless wayfarer blindly to destruction! And -I succumbed! Everything is lost ... for me! But now ... can’t you -see, can’t you feel, my agony? You are gay? You laugh? You chatter? -Is it not written on my face, is it not written in my heart, that I -am doomed, that I shall never, never more set eyes upon you? Yes, it -is all written there—my love, my fate, my death! And if you fail to -read, it is because you know not how to read; and if you know not -how to read, it is because you do not love. Oh my dear lost love! Oh -my fragile Goddess! You do not love me ... so you will not miss me, -overmuch.... You will find another man to love.... Youth will erase -unhappy memories.... You will begin life anew ... life anew! Better -thus! Much better thus! I ... I love you! I am saving you! I love you!”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> - -<p>And this last phrase I pronounced aloud, as though I were answering in -those three words all that she had been saying to me:</p> - -<p>“I love you ...!”</p> - -<p>She stopped, and looked at me in astonishment. Then she burst into a -gay laugh:</p> - -<p>“You love me? You love me? Thanks, Monsieur! If ever you dared say you -didn’t ...!”</p> - -<p>To punish me, she drew my head down teasingly, and pressed her lips to -mine, in a kiss that lasted ... that lasted, till I knew no more....</p> - -<p>When her clasp relaxed, I sat up again. She had sunk gently back upon -the pillows.</p> - -<p>Suddenly her eyelids quivered.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she said; “how that kiss fatigued me! Dearest, it cannot be seven -o’clock? Won’t you tell me that I needn’t get up? I’m so tired! So -tired! It can’t be sev....”</p> - -<p>She collapsed suddenly upon the pillows, her eyes closed.</p> - -<p>The door behind me opened.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXIX</h2> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said the Marquis Gaspard to me, “it was a great pleasure to -be able to allow you this hour you so much desired. I hope it came up -fully to your expectations.”</p> - -<p>He was standing in the center of the large hall to which I had just -returned—taller he seemed to me than formerly, with a carriage more -erect and eyes agleam with a brighter, more imperious flame.</p> - -<p>The candles along the wall had been put out; only the two lamps to -the right and left of the fireplace were still lighted, and the Count -François was busy lowering the wicks of these.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” the marquis continued, “will you not kindly take your place -for what we still have to do?”</p> - -<p>He pointed to the deep chair in which he himself had been resting -before I left the room.</p> - -<p>I was anxious to betray no uneasiness whatever. I advanced without -hesitation to the seat appointed and calmly sat down.</p> - -<p>“Antoine!” the count called.</p> - -<p>I was in that one of the two chairs which seemed nearest to the great -lens. Facing me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> and some ten or twelve paces away was the other -seat, its arms opening toward me. It was empty. The stuffed cushions -on the back of my chair, of the seat, arms and head-rest, seemed to -accommodate my body perfectly; so that I was not conscious of any -weight or fatigue at all. I stiffened nevertheless when I saw what the -Vicomte Antoine was about to do. At his father’s call, the younger man -stepped forward in my direction carrying in his hand a sort of dark -lantern, much larger than the one which had lighted our path over the -mountains.</p> - -<p>“Look out! Look out, Monsieur!” he called, noticing that I had fixed my -eyes in some alarm upon him. “Turn your head the other way, or you may -be blinded.”</p> - -<p>He slipped the shutter over the spot-light aside. I was bathed from -head to foot in a harsh raw light which was all the more painful from -the relative darkness of the rest of the room. I closed my eyes at -first. When I opened them again, I avoided the stream of radiance that -was turned upon me, and looked past it to one side, toward the lens and -the empty chair beyond the latter.</p> - -<p>Despite my efforts to control myself, I trembled, stupidly trembled, -at what I saw. The chair was no longer empty; someone, or rather, -something, was occupying it—the luminous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> shadow of a man seated, -a shadow of myself, in fact. Of this I furnished proof at once by -raising my arm, a movement which the shadow repeated with absolute -fidelity. Now I understood; the hypothesis I had formed when the lens -was first brought out was the correct one; the second chair was fixed -on the spot where the image of the other chair, passing through the -lens, would fall. The moment a vivid light was thrown upon me in that -darkened room, my image became visible over there. There was nothing -so mysterious in all that so far. I was somewhat ashamed of my first -quiver of fright.</p> - -<p>After a second or so, the vicomte closed his lantern again, and the -image disappeared. Then only did I remember something very strange, -which at first had not occurred to me. If the apparatus nearby were an -ordinary lens, my image, as I had just observed it, should have been -upside down, my feet above my head. Now such was not the case. It was -right side up, a thing which I could not account for then, and have not -been able to account for since.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, there had been a question, delivered in the shrill falsetto -of the marquis:</p> - -<p>“Is the image clear?”</p> - -<p>The vicomte’s low-pitched voice responded:</p> - -<p>“Perfectly, Monsieur!”</p> - -<p>I had let my head fall back against the prop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> behind it; and it half -buried itself in the upholstery, which sustained its weight so evenly -and firmly that I am sure I could have fainted and yet still have kept -to the same position without bending my neck. The field of my vision -was proportionately reduced, however: I could see no one now except the -Count François, who was still watching his lamps, turning them by this -time so low that a faint blue flicker only was visible around the wicks.</p> - -<p>The marquis asked another question, and this time of me:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, you are well seated in your chair, quite comfortable, quite -relaxed? It is very important that you should be, I caution you!”</p> - -<p>I tested the springs and mattressing:</p> - -<p>“I think I am all right,” I answered briefly.</p> - -<p>As I replied, I touched my fingers to the covering of the <i>dormeuse</i> -about me. It was not satin, nor velvet, as I had supposed; but a kind -of silk so closely woven that I guessed it to be for purposes of -insulation. Leaning over I now noticed also for the first time that the -four legs of my chair were shod with glass.</p> - -<p>When I sat up again, I saw the Marquis Gaspard standing in front of me.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said he, with the very greatest gentleness in his manner -and tone of voice, “Monsieur, the dawn will soon be upon us. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> can -delay no longer now. You are quite sure you have no objection to our -beginning?”</p> - -<p>One last wave of anguished rebellion gathered in my throat, and choked -me. Nevertheless, I shook my head impatiently, to indicate that I had -no objection whatever.</p> - -<p>“That is better than I dared hope,” the marquis exclaimed; “I cannot -tell how grateful to you I am!”</p> - -<p>He was looking at me with an emotion that quite surprised me. Visibly -affected, and with some hesitation, he resumed:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, there is one thought which I cannot bear your having even -for a single moment: the thought that you have fallen, this night, into -the hands of heartless, inhuman men.”</p> - -<p>I stared at him coldly without answering.</p> - -<p>“The operation I am about to try on you,” he resumed, “is something -absolutely new. I advise you with the utmost frankness that it is a -very dangerous one, though it is not, unfortunately, in my power to -avoid it. The best I can guarantee is that you will not suffer much -pain. To add just one more chance that the issue will be favorable, I -have decided not to put you to sleep; though the experiment conducted -under such conditions will cost me a far greater effort, and much more -physical suffering. But if you are awake, with your nerves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> and muscles -at normal tension, you will be better able to withstand the loss of -substance you must undergo.”</p> - -<p>He inclined his head to one side, his cheeks resting on three of his -fingers.</p> - -<p>“I wonder ...” said he, in a voice somewhat changed in tone.</p> - -<p>“I was just thinking,” he began again. “Without any doubt you have -papers on your person addressed to you under your name, your former -name, that is.... Yes! And a pocket book perhaps?... Exactly.... Would -you be so very, very kind as to entrust them all to me?... They might -interfere with our results....”</p> - -<p>Without comment, I unbuttoned my coat and thrust a hand into my inside -pocket. I found there my card case, with a number of visiting cards, my -road maps, two or three blank envelopes, and finally, crumpled through -my haste in putting it away, the letter—the letter of the colonel of -artillery. I handed them all to the marquis.</p> - -<p>“I thank you!” said he.</p> - -<p>The fold of his thin mouth grew deeper, and his tone was now one of -great solemnity:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said he, “everything is ready now. My last request is that -you be kind enough, in view of the fact that you will retain your -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>consciousness, to relax completely, not only every sinew of your -body but every tension of mind and will. Try to play ‘dead,’ if I may -say such a thing. Play you are sound asleep. Notice, Monsieur, that I -attach great importance to these suggestions, which, you can rely upon -it, are made in the best interests of us both.”</p> - -<p>I acquiesced with a slight arching of my brow.</p> - -<p>He saluted me with his most correct and formal bow:</p> - -<p>“That is all, Monsieur,” said he; “Farewell!”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXX</h2> - -<p>He had disappeared.</p> - -<p>But a moment later I was conscious of his presence close behind me. I -knew that he was standing there, his eyes fixed upon me; for between my -neck and shoulders I could feel a weight, an impact, like the one I had -experienced when the Vicomte Antoine found me lying on the heath, and -the one with which the Count François welcomed me on my entrance into -the House of the Secret....</p> - -<p>Like these, I say ... but no! The present pressure was something -incomparably heavier and more forceful—a veritable succession of -hammer blows descending upon me with a violence that left me bruised -and dazed.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly ... everything began to go round and round—an -overpowering dizziness assailed me. The lens of the golden sparkles, -the armchair opposite me, the clock in the corner, the antique chest -against the wall, all seemed to be caught up in a cyclonic whirl of -which I was the tottering, collapsing center. In spite of the downy -prop behind my head and the cushions that contained me all around, I -seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> to be falling, falling, or soaring, soaring; and my frenzied -fingers clutched the arms of my chair, which, to my sense, now plunged -into bottomless depths, now darted upwards to impossible heights, -rocking frightfully meanwhile and even turning completely over and -around. A measureless void was all about me, and my single intelligent -thought was one of surprise that I was not hurtling into this gulf of -nothingness.</p> - -<p>An atrocious torture, but a short one! A deadening stupor came over me -progressively, first relieving and finally overcoming my dizziness. My -sensation now was one of extreme fatigue, more exhausting than any I -had ever before experienced. My head especially seemed emptied of all -its cerebral substance as a result of the first shocks I had received; -and it lay helpless, lifeless, in its hollow formed in the upholstery. -A whimsical interest in what time it might possibly be came to obsess -me. I remember that I could hardly move my eyes when I tried to turn -them toward the clock; and if I did succeed eventually in focussing -them on that point, I could not read the clock’s hands, so dark and -murky had my eyeballs become, so insensitive my retina.</p> - -<p>A curious tingling began at the ends of my fingers and toes, and spread -upwards into my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> hands and arms, and into my feet and legs. It was like -the beginning of a cramp.</p> - -<p>But the cramp did not come. What I felt rather was a kind of chill. But -neither was this a clearly defined sensation, so rapid, so confused, -were the changes and variations in my impressions. It was, on the -whole, as though my body were disintegrating little by little, being -torn apart, filling meanwhile with a strange liquid, lighter than -blood, in which all my organs, freed from their muscles and tendons, -seemed to be afloat and drifting.</p> - -<p>The conviction came over me that I was about to die....</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>It were better not to resume my story!</p> - -<p>My pencil has been lying idle for a long time. Here on this marble slab -is the black-bordered register. I hesitate.... I cast my eyes around....</p> - -<p>The noon-day sun is gilding the tips of the cypress trees, while -through their stiffened branches the winter wind is playing fitfully. -Not a cloud is visible in that cold blue sky. Despite the torpor that -besets the arid marrow of my bones, I feel almost a thrill of joy at -the splendor of this last day of mine....</p> - -<p>Yes, it were better to stop my story here!</p> - -<p>Why write on? No one will believe me! <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>Indeed I myself almost doubt the -reality of this fabulous, this impossible, this incredible experience! -If I were not here in this place, if I could not read the fateful, -irrevocable epitaph graven on this stone on which my elbows rest—if -I could not run my palsied fingers through this long snow-white -beard—no, I would not believe, I would not believe! I would say rather -that I were dreaming, that I were raving in some ghastly mad obsession.</p> - -<p>But the proof, the proof is there! I cannot hold my peace! I must -finish the narrative I have begun. All men, all women—my brothers and -sisters—are in danger! I must save them!</p> - -<p>O you who read this my confession, this my last will and -testament,—for the love of your God, if you have one, do not doubt me! -But read, understand, believe!</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Yes, I thought I was about to die.</p> - -<p>The strange tingling, now the only sensation which I could isolate -with any distinctness, was running through my whole body, from the -tips of my toes to the tips of my hair. It was no longer like the -first symptoms of a cramp, as it had been at the beginning. No, it was -something more regular in beat, more enthralling in power. It caused -my mind to revert to Madeleine and the morning rides we used to take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> -together; to our picnics in the forest clearings, to a fondness she -had for burying her naked arms in the ground so that I could compare -the feeling of the smooth warm sand with that of her smooth warm skin. -Through my half-opened fingers I would strain the minute grains and -as they fell they made a faint continuous sound that I remember for -its peculiarity. Such a sound I was hearing now; but it came not from -between my fingers, but from under my skin, from inside my flesh—the -murmur of an invisible sand which my veins and nerves were sweeping -along their channels in a full, regular, unbroken flow, from my heart -and my other internal organs toward my hands and toward my feet. This -strange flood became a rushing torrent about my wrists and ankles, -and around the joints of my fingers—narrow passages which confined, -condensed, cramped the current. But it went beyond my own extremities, -far beyond! How far I could not say. I know simply that my fingers -and toes were at once moist and chilled, like vessels of unglazed -pottery which give off water drop by drop and become ice-cold from -evaporation....</p> - -<p>And all the time, on the back of my head and between my shoulders, I -could feel blow after blow in furious succession, blows which I know -came from the all-powerful eyes of the old <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>marquis, who stood there -relentlessly raining them upon me.</p> - -<p>I grew weaker still. A few moments before I had tried vainly to look at -the clock against the wall. Now even my eyelids were paralyzed. I could -not close my eyes nor could I turn them. They were glued inexorably -upon the objects directly in front of them—the translucent lens (the -golden glints in its substance glowing now mysteriously); the armchair -where, for a second, I had glimpsed the seated image of myself; -beyond, a bit of white-washed wall—all blending in a blurred whirling -confusion.</p> - -<p>As second followed on second I thought I could feel more and more of my -life flowing silently out of my wasting body....</p> - -<p>Then suddenly, something extraordinary occurred; and I was so shocked -by it that I managed, calling on I know not what reserves of energy, -to open my eyes a little wider and to clear their vision by winking my -eyelids several times.</p> - -<p>In the chair where I had before seen my own image seated, now I -could see, clearly, distinctly, beyond any possible doubt whatever, -beyond any chance of its being an hallucination—I could see with an -unspeakable overwhelming certitude—another image, likewise seated, -another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> image also made of light, but of a different kind of light—a -sort of fluctuating phosphorescent shadow which was gradually taking -form ... out of nothing....</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXXI</h2> - -<p>... taking form from nothing....</p> - -<p>At first it could hardly be said to exist at all ... something -more tenuous than a shadow ... as transparent as glass ... all the -particulars of the chair visible through it—covering, head-rest, -arms and back ... something formless, colorless ... a sort of pallid -luminousness hazy in outline, changing in texture, suggesting the vague -fluorescence in a Gessler tube....</p> - -<p>Yet something, nevertheless, something more certainly real than the -image I had seen shortly before—the image of myself refracted through -the lens ... something material, tangible, ponderable ... as I could -sense, as I could feel, as I knew with a conviction that excluded all -doubt ... something living, perhaps!</p> - -<p>Living, certainly! Yes, something alive; for now, inside the tissue, -inside the substance of this luminous something, I thought I could see -... I could see ... I could see with absolute distinctness ... a sort -of web, a veritable network of veins and nerves ... outlined in light -... in light brighter than the light of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>thing itself ... and along -those nerves and through those veins, rushing, streaming, leaping in -regular pulsations, a phosphorescent liquid ... all coming from one -center ... and that center ... a heart!</p> - -<p>I could see ... but the testimony of my eyes was nothing ... my -senses, my feelings, my very consciousness ... told me, convinced me, -assured me, that that shadow was alive.... Of its life I had the same -perception that I had of my own life. I could feel the beating of that -heart, as I could feel the beating of my own heart; and I could feel, -the streaming of that phosphorescent blood in those arteries of light -as I could feel my own red blood in my own arteries of flesh.... Then -at last I knew....</p> - -<p>I knew that that Something, that that Presence, that that Being was -taking form, not from nothing, but from me. Not only was it from me; it -was my very very Self.</p> - -<p>From the depths of my weakness and of my agony, from the abyss of -mortal terror in which my consciousness and my intelligence had been -engulfed, that one persuasion rose—a clear, clear comprehension of -all that had been explained, suggested, threatened in words that had -hitherto seemed so obscure to me....</p> - -<p>Yes, that Shadow there was I, that Shadow sitting in the chair -before me, that Shadow of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> pallid light that was already losing its -transparency!</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>I lost my hold on the wisp of sentience to which I had been clinging. -Weakness overcame me. Sight faded from my eyes, and hearing from my -ears. A black opaque veil descended over me, enshrouding me, burying -me. I became as one dying, dying ... dead.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Later, I know not how much later, but after, I think, a long, long -time, I came to myself again.</p> - -<p>And when I came to myself again, all the life that I had lived before -I sank into that deathly slumber, seemed to have receded into a past -infinitely, eternally remote, a past more ancient than all the ages.</p> - -<p>A pair of cold hands was pressing on my temples. I could feel drops of -water trickling down my face. They came from a wet handkerchief that -had been drawn tight across my brow. I knew that the Count François was -standing in front of me, and that he was working to bring me back to -consciousness.</p> - -<p>A sigh forced its way through my lips. My eyes opened. I stretched my -fingers that had gripped the two arms of my chair.... </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> - -<p>The count removed his hands from my temples.</p> - -<p>He wiped my forehead dry.</p> - -<p>He went away.</p> - -<p>Then I saw....</p> - -<p>I saw, in the chair opposite me, seated, a Man.</p> - -<p>A Man like me, exactly like me, like me to the last detail: myself.</p> - -<p>I looked at him, and I was not sure whether he or I were I. And I -was not sure whether we were two men, or one man in two persons. I -raised—how painfully!—an arm; and I succeeded in raising it because -now it had become as light as gauze. I raised an arm, I say, to see -whether the other Man, the other I, would be forced, by what I did, to -do the same, to raise an arm that is, the arm that I raised. But no! I -moved: and he did not. So then ... there were two of us: I and a Man: -two different men, separate, distinct Beings.</p> - -<p>Distinct, separate, and yet, unquestionably, two parts of one whole, a -single whole; and all my flesh, all my wasted rarefied substance cried -out desiringly toward that other flesh, that other substance that had -been torn from me, “exteriorized” from me.</p> - -<p>Another Man: a Man, and not a shadow, and not a ghost! No spectral -trappings; no sheets, no shrouds! Clothes! A riding suit, exactly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> -like my riding suit. I looked at the clothes I was wearing. I had just -bought them new. Now they were old, worn out, threadbare.... As old, as -worn, as threadbare as I myself!</p> - -<p>Alas! Alas! Why, why am I writing still? I know that you who read will -not believe.... But I tell you I am not insane! Would a madman talk as -I talk? Another thing: I am about to die; and a man does not cross the -threshold of Eternity with falsehood on his lips.... Two good reasons -for not doubting my veracity....</p> - -<p>Alas! Alas! I know ... I know ... why should I go on ...?</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Nevertheless....</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXXII</h2> - -<p>... the Man got up from his chair and walked toward the door.</p> - -<p>I saw that He walked with my walk. When He arose, I had felt in the -muscles of my hips and back, a sudden stiffening as though I too were -making an effort to rise from my chair. Each of his strides thereafter -caused rapid contractions of the muscles in my thighs, in the calves of -my legs, at my ankles.</p> - -<p>He stopped at the door into the anteroom, and stood there with his hand -on the latch.</p> - -<p>And I heard the voice of the Marquis Gaspard speaking, a voice I could -scarcely recognize, so faint, so broken, so husky had it become—a -breathing rather than a voice.</p> - -<p>It said:</p> - -<p>“The papers!”</p> - -<p>The towering figure of the Vicomte Antoine came between the Man and me. -Nevertheless I could see, I know not how, that into the Man’s pocket -the vicomte was slipping my purse and the letter from the colonel of -artillery.</p> - -<p>“He has them!” the vicomte said.</p> - -<p>The Man opened the door and went away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Now I say that when He was in the antechamber, separated from me by -a thick partition, I could see Him still ... not exactly through the -partition; nor could I, exactly, see Him with my own eyes ... but, as -it were, with another pair of eyes which went along with Him, and did -not leave Him any more than my eyes left me.... With these latter eyes -I could see Him more clearly, more distinctly than with my own eyes.</p> - -<p>And when He had left the antechamber, and was out there in the garden, -under the trees of the thickly matted branches, I could see Him still. -And when He had left the garden and was out there on the heath—there -where the plants and trees grew sparse and stunted ... I could see Him -still....</p> - -<p>Once more, for one last time, the falsetto of the Marquis Gaspard -grated on my ears; and I sensed that he was mustering all the fainting -sonorousness of his throat and lungs for a last irrevocable declaration.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” I heard him say, “Monsieur, that Man you saw, that Man -who has just departed ... be my witness that I created Him ... as God -created me. And having created Him I have the same right to destroy Him -that God has to destroy me ... if He is able!”</p> - -<p>The voice died out....</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXXIII</h2> - -<p>And I could see Him still....</p> - -<p>He was walking rapidly, slipping through the underbrush with surprising -ease. And I thought of Madeleine, whom I had seen six hours ... six -centuries?... before ... gliding in that same way over the same rough -ground.</p> - -<p>The dawn was streaking the eastern sky; but the valleys behind the -screen of mountains were still sunk in darkness. Nevertheless I could -see Him still.... Though to see Him was like touching Him. Those -supernatural moving eyes with which I was following Him step by step, -those miraculous eyes attached to his flesh doubtless because his flesh -was my flesh ... those infallible eyes which made me see with absolute -distinctness ... were like two hands ... feeling rather than seeing.</p> - -<p>The Man was getting farther and farther away, walking very rapidly now. -Around Him I could dimly see the enormous blocks of stone with the -smooth hewn faces, those monoliths of geometrical design, rising naked -from the soil,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> which had astonished me on my own passage through them. -In that labyrinth the Man did not hesitate at all, but hurried on his -way with the same certainty as before....</p> - -<p>Around my ankles now I could feel the scratching of the juniper and -the briar ... as though it were I and not He whom the thorns were -tearing.... And as He kept walking, I grew fatigued, more and more -fatigued, till a sharp pain caught me in the joints of my hips and -knees....</p> - -<p>The Man was beyond the labyrinth of stones, advancing along the deep -ravines and precipices which also I recognized from having followed the -same path six hours before. Not far from there, indeed, the spotlight -of my guide had lighted the faint trail, his cane beating to right -and left to open the way before me. Those very brambles that were now -scratching the Man’s legs and my legs....</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>My cries of “Mercy! Mercy!” had worn me out.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>The Man stopped suddenly.</p> - -<p>The glow of sunrise had now climbed to the zenith. The whole landscape -was bathed in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> pale but brightening light. A clump of tall ferns -appeared, masking the precipitous wall of a ravine.</p> - -<p>The Man stopped, folded his arms, and leaned forward. I leaned forward -with Him.</p> - -<p>A precipice was there, the precipice on the brink of which I had -earlier been moved to terror. I recognized it, as I had recognized -the labyrinth of monoliths, the region of ravines and precipices, the -thickets of juniper and briar. I recognized the same smooth wall of the -chasm, the same white stones of the river bed over which the deep black -water was rushing in a torrent.... And I recognized the same nauseating -chill of vertigo.</p> - -<p>In the strip of bright sky along the eastern horizon, a first splash of -red, the color of blood, marked the oncoming of the sun....</p> - -<p>I was striving to master that nausea, that vertigo, when an atrocious -snap of all my muscles hurled me violently from my chair, hurled me -into the air as a diver is tossed from a spring-board. Weak as I -was, exhausted, prostrate, my muscles contracted with such desperate -violence that I was thrown up up through the air, to fall two, three, -four yards from my chair, which was thrown over backwards by the push I -gave it.</p> - -<p>I fell ... I fell ... my head and arms <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>thrown forward ... and I lost -consciousness again.</p> - -<p>I lost consciousness again; but not before I had had time to see the -Man likewise hurled headforemost into the abyss, where He fell, and -fell, and fell, to be dashed to death on the white boulders under the -black rushing water....</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXXIV</h2> - -<p>Thereafter ... I know not what ... I knew nothing more....</p> - -<p>Morning ... morning, and raining still. Through the grated window of my -bedroom-prison, a sticky viscous light was making its way. I was lying -on the bed. When I awakened, I tried to rise on my elbow to look around -me. I could not: I had not the strength.</p> - -<p>But suddenly I could see ... I could see, in another place....</p> - -<p>Rushing water ... tall green reeds ... moss ... a lofty, vertical wall -of rock ... white cobblestones washed by a tumbling stream ... and, on -the jagged point of a boulder, a corpse, my corpse, me....</p> - -<p>I could see that my clothing was soaked, the water covering my breast -and shoulders, and filling my wide opened eyes.... But I did not feel -the cold liquid contact of the stream, nor the chilling north wind, -laden with rain, that was beating upon my back and legs which were out -of water on the narrow bank of the torrent there. I could feel nothing. -I was dead. I mean to say that the Man was dead, that Man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> who was, and -still is, I. I could see a large red hole in the back of his head—the -wound made by the rock He struck, the wound through which his life had -spurted away.... The back of my head ... of me who was lying there on -that bed in that chamber ... pained me terribly.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>So I lay there, inert. Several times I tried to move. Move I could not; -nor was there anything I could do. Through the half-opened window the -resinous fragrance of rain-soaked fir-trees came. For a moment, they -entered the room—the Count François and the Vicomte Antoine, I mean. -They examined me, felt my pulse, my legs and arms, the back of my head. -But soon they went out again. I was left alone.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>All that I have just been telling even then belonged to the distant -past, a past fabulously remote.</p> - -<p>I was lying on the bed, inert, watching my dead body awash in the -stream. I tried to remember what had happened....</p> - -<p>Yes ... I fell.... I was bending over the edge to peer into the depths -of the chasm ... and a heavy blow struck me between the shoulders -... one of those blows such as I had several <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>times received between -the shoulders ... and on the back of my head ... blows from the -overwhelming gaze of those old men ... of the old marquis ... which had -pounded me to pulp.</p> - -<p>So then, I was watching the dead body ... my dead body.... Carrion -already old! Flies swarming on and over it. The torrent foaming around -and against it—and running water erodes, dissolves, disintegrates!... -Yes, carrion indeed!... The coffin maker must come soon, or little will -be left for him!...</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Carrion already old!</p> - -<p>But not so old as my living body—that too was old, limitlessly aged!</p> - -<p>Was I as old as this, a little while before? Or had the sun merely -stopped in the heavens? And if so, how long? For many many years? I -could not say....</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>I remember, yes ... I fainted.... I lost consciousness completely. -When I fell over the cliff ... my head and my hands struck hard on the -tiled floor ... the Ever-living Men probably brought me to the room -and put me on that bed.... Perhaps the rushing water of the stream, or -the rain, or the winter wind turned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> me so old.... One cannot help but -change ... lying out in the weather!...</p> - -<p>Old! old, old! And older, older, every minute, every second!</p> - -<p>My hand went to my chin.... A beard was beginning to appear there.... -It was growing rapidly ... a gray beard.... As I passed a hand over my -temples, I could feel deep wrinkles there.</p> - -<p>Three times the door of my chamber opened partly, and I could see the -faces of the Ever-living Men peering in at me attentively. On each -occasion I feigned sleep, closing my eyes.... But not entirely.... My -eyelids were far enough apart for me to spy on what they did.... They -did nothing.... But this I saw ... I saw that they were astounded ... -plainly, evidently astounded at the age, the sudden age that had come -over me....</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>I lay there inert....</p> - -<p>What time was it, I wondered? What day of the week? What month of the -year? And the year—was it of the era of our Lord?</p> - -<p>My beard was gray at first. Now it had whitened. It had grown broad -and long.... Thus do beards and hair grow on the bodies of the dead, -I thought. The flesh seemed to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> left my hands. Through the dry -darkened skin that covered them I could feel brittle knotted bones....</p> - -<p>Was the sun setting? It was growing dark in my bedroom-prison. Only a -faltering light was now making its way through the grated window. And -the water rushed foaming, whirling along, black and green, around my -corpse ... softened the latter seemed ... mushy, gluey, loathesome....</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Yes, night was coming on.... Again the Living Men entered to visit me -... the father and the son I mean.... The grandfather was not with -them.... He was out of sight and hearing.... They came and stood at my -bedside, looking at me for a long time, visibly preoccupied, visibly -alarmed....</p> - -<p>They went away again, and still without a word. On the tripod -candlestick, the candelabrum of the three crossed lances, three candles -were burning brightly now ... three points of flame for the three long -shafts.... Darkness was creeping down the chasm.... The water was -moaning black in the on-coming night.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Ho! Ho-ho! What was that? Torches in my chamber! And voices shouting! -Ah no!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> Not in my chamber ... down there, along the stream ... up on -the cliffs, above the chasm.... Down there, of course! What could I -have been thinking of?</p> - -<p>Torches on the brink of the abyss.... Faces peering into the black -void.... Uniforms! Red trousers, blue coats.... And a stretcher.... A -good idea! A good idea!... Of course! Of course! For me, for me!</p> - -<p>Voices calling. An oath or two. A voice louder than the others bidding -these be silent. I heard everything distinctly. Yes, every word.</p> - -<p>“But I see him, I tell you! Look, there he is! Down in that hole! Gotta -get down there someway!”</p> - -<p>“Watch your step, boy! What a hole!”</p> - -<p>“What the hell! I done worse places than this before.... The Devil -roast my soul! Stinks a bit, this fellow! Whew!”</p> - -<p>“Aw go on, what are you giving us!”</p> - -<p>“But I say, Sergeant, he’s rotten!”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean, rotten! Can’t have been there more than twelve -hours!”</p> - -<p>“All right.... I can’t say how long he’s been here.... But I know -rotten beef when I smell it.... Guess it’s from being in the water! -Say, just chuck that piece of canvas down.... We’ll pass it under him -and draw up the four corners.... This is no man ... <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>just soup! Easier -to spoon him up with a ladle!”</p> - -<p>“Damn it, man ... what have you found? Somebody else? Take a squint at -him.... We’ve got to get the right man! What’s he got in his pockets?”</p> - -<p>“Sticky damn mess! Whew! But here we are! Our man, all right! Yes! -Identification card! Other stuff with his name on it! And here’s his -revolver! Our man, Sergeant, no doubt of that. How about that rag! -Sending it down?”</p> - -<p>“When you get him ready, you give the word and we’ll haul up!”</p> - -<p>“Righto! One, two, three, and you pull!... Well, I’ll be damned!”</p> - -<p>“What’s worrying you now?”</p> - -<p>“Why this here corpse! Weighs about an ounce and a half!”</p> - -<p>“What’s that? Lord, if he’s as far gone as that.... Say, give a look -around! Maybe you’ve left some on the rocks, a leg or an arm, or -something!”</p> - -<p>“No! Got everything, Sergeant, head and all! All right at the other -end?”</p> - -<p>“All right here!”</p> - -<p>“Well then up she goes!” ...</p> - -<p>“And now we’re off....”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>“Hey, don’t shake the thing so much when you walk!”</p> - -<p>“Oh rats! Hell of a lot this bird cares whether there’s springs on his -hearse!” ...</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>I lay there inert....</p> - -<p>I could feel the pressure and the scrape of the canvas on my head, and -legs and arms.... The litter went along jostling me.... I could see -everything, clearly ... the flickering of the torches there, and the -gleaming of the candles at the points of the three crossed lances....</p> - -<p>Total darkness outside!... Not a ray of light coming through the grated -window. Not one last trace of twilight on the mountain trail....</p> - -<p>The canvas tightened, and closed my eyes. There on the heath a shroud -of canvas! There in my room a shroud of slumber! Sleep! Another -death!...</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXXV</h2> - -<p>Dawn again.... I cannot see the new morning light; but I am conscious -of its approach. The grated window is still dark; but I am sure the -night is ending. Through the thick panes of glass, I feel a chill, the -harbinger of day.</p> - -<p>The three candles have burned low on the tips of the three lances. -Their wicks have curled in upon themselves, sinking into the last drops -of molten wax. Only a faint uncertain flame is sputtering from them now -and that bit of light threatens to go out at intervals.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Sleep seems to have done me good, giving me back some strength, however -little.</p> - -<p>“Could I sit up now, if I tried?”</p> - -<p>How long have I been here? Let’s figure it out, from the beginning, -from the beginning of my Adventure! Or rather, no ... let’s go backward -from today.... Today, yes ... sunrise ... there was a sunrise yesterday -... cold and rainy. That’s one day ... the day when I grew old so fast -... I got this way yesterday, between dawn and twilight!....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> The night -before that, night before last ... I came to this House, the House of -the Secret.... Last night, and night before last. Yesterday between.... -Two nights and one day, in all....</p> - -<p>One single day ... yet how deep these wrinkles, how withered the skin -on this aged face of mine! And these bristles on my face ... on my -cheeks and chin ... bristles white as snow, white as hoar-frost! One -day for them to grow ... just one day ... but a day that lies heavier -than a century upon my soul! Who will ever believe me when I tell this -story? No one! No one!</p> - -<p>Could I sit up, if I tried? But first, I must get rid of this sheet -that’s tied around me.... Trusses me all up, and I can’t move.... The -sheet? Where’s the sheet? Here’s a sheet; but it doesn’t seem to be -troubling me.... Where’s the ... ah, yes ... it’s the sheet on Him—on -the Man, I mean.... They have swathed Him in a sheet.... I can still -see.... I see.... So naturally ... natural, isn’t it?... I get things -mixed a little....</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Dawn ... no doubt about it now ... the oblong opening of the grated -window is pale with light.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>I did not hear the door open.... I was caught by surprise. I had no -time to close my eyes.</p> - -<p>There they are again, the two of them, the Count François and the -Vicomte Antoine. They are looking at me.... And I can easily see, see -as easily as yesterday ... I can see they don’t know what to make of it -... don’t know what to make of me, that is.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, be so good as to get up, I beg of you.” It was the Count -François who spoke.</p> - -<p>And I arose, without the slightest difficulty. I was weak, very weak -indeed, but light, ever so light ... as light as the air about me....</p> - -<p>The Count François spoke again:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, my father is very tired today; he is in no condition to -leave his room. For that reason my son and I have come to ask you to go -with us to him.”</p> - -<p>I followed them.... What difference did it make to me whether I was in -one place or in another?</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>The old man, the Marquis Gaspard, I did not see.... A portière of -antique silk was standing in front of his bed, there in his chamber. Of -the bed I could see the four columns of carved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> wood which supported -the canopy. It was a square bed, without curtains.... That was all I -saw....</p> - -<p>But I recognized the queer falsetto of the marquis, and the marvelously -gentle and persuasive tone his voice could assume, when it was not -hardened with wilfulness or soured with irony.</p> - -<p>The Living Man began to speak. I stood in the doorway listening.... -And as I listened, this worn-out memory of mine, a memory so wasted, -so decayed that one by one all my recollections of the good old days -have fallen away as dust from it, took in his every word so deeply, so -burningly, that I shall remember all he said till my course is wholly -run.</p> - -<p>He began to speak. He said:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, I had greater hopes of my own magnetic resources and of -your powers of resistance. I cannot say I regret having done what I -did.... I did my duty.... Our security, our peace of mind, our probable -immortality could be conserved in no other way. Those at any rate are -now adequately safe-guarded, at the price simply of a somewhat greater -effort. But I should be much better satisfied had the experiment cost -you a fatigue as great as mine, without drawing so deeply on your vital -reserves. To be sure, I warned you that what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> we were about to do might -prove extremely dangerous. I feared for your life especially when the -moment would necessarily come for breaking the magnetic bond that -connected you with the Being I derived from your substance. I foresaw -also a great and cruel suffering on your part when I should kill, as I -was obliged to kill, this newly created Being. Now those two shocks you -withstood marvelously, Monsieur; but only to fall quite unexpectedly -for us, into the particular state of languor and exhaustion in which I -see you now. Monsieur, I am immensely, immensely sorry; and I trust you -will understand that, had it been within my power, I would have been -only too glad to leave you in a much stronger and sturdier state of -health!”</p> - -<p>A pause ... I drew back a step, with the idea of returning to my room. -But the voice began again, in a slower and more solemn tone.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, since things are as they are, the simplest course for you is -to bow to the inevitable. But I venture to point out that the present -situation, bad as it is, is not without its advantage for you. The -objections we were obliged to put forward originally to your immediate -release obtain no longer. A favor we could not think of granting to the -man you were yesterday at this hour—a man robust of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> body and vigorous -of will, we are only too happy to accord to the man you are today—an -aged invalid, broken in body and weak from more weaknesses than one.... -Monsieur, you are, from this moment, free, a freedom without any -qualifications or restrictions whatsoever. As soon as you choose to say -so, my grandson will have the honor of showing you to our door. You may -go anywhere you wish. We ask only that you refrain from mentioning to -any living soul the things that you have seen during your stay in this -House. I am sure you will decide to say nothing of them.”</p> - -<p>Still I stood there listening. Somehow I was not at all surprised at -this offer of my freedom however unexpected. I stood there listening; -and I could feel the words I had heard sinking deeply into me, eating -their way into the substance of my brain to remain there with indelible -fixity.... I stood there listening....</p> - -<p>Ah yes! I understand, I understand! From what I have been through, my -will, my intelligence, my reason, have all been rarefied, depleted. My -head is half emptied, as it were; and these sentences that are being -addressed to me, these orders that are being given me, this password -of silence that is being graven eternally upon my memory, all dictated -by another will, another intelligence, another reason, are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> to be -substituted in my brain by what is no longer there, for what has been -taken away, and made to fill the intolerable hollowness of my skull!...</p> - -<p>The falsetto voice concluded:</p> - -<p>“For the rest you have our promise ... Madame de X.... the girl you -love, left our abode last night.... She will never again be recalled to -us....”</p> - -<p>Madame de X....? The girl I love?... I love? Ah yes, yes, yes! I had -forgotten! You see, I’m an old old man and my heart is empty too ... -sucked dry, impoverished! I’m an old old man! Many things have changed -in me.... Madame de X....? Ah yes!... Madeleine! Madeleine will never -be recalled! Yes, of course. She will never come back here again.... As -we agreed.</p> - -<p>The falsetto voice fell silent with two words:</p> - -<p>“Farewell, Monsieur!”</p> - -<p>All was finished!</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>At the door, the outer door, of the heavy oaken panels studded with -iron nails, and which had just been opened ... on the highest of the -eight steps leading down from it ... the Count François and the Vicomte -Antoine likewise said to me: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Farewell, Monsieur.”</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>I crossed the garden, my feet treading and crushing the tall unmown -grass, my head grazing the thick matted branches of the pine and cedar -trees.</p> - -<p>The gate was open.</p> - -<p>I hurried through it.</p> - -<p>And now I was out upon the heath, walking indifferent to direction save -that I turned my face toward the brightening dawn....</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXXVI</h2> - -<p>I walked all day long, from the blue twilight of morning to the red -glow of afternoon, following a route which I am sure I could not find -again. I know simply that it was always straight ahead. And I felt no -fatigue until after I arrived.</p> - -<p>That was late, very late in the afternoon. Straight ahead I walked -continuously, not knowing whither I was bound, with no idea that I was -going anywhere. Then suddenly I noticed that I was on a broad high-way, -and in front of me to left and right some houses came into view.</p> - -<p>Beyond them, a bridge, a draw-bridge. I recognized Toulon, Toulon and -its ramparts.</p> - -<p>Through the arching gate the sun shone red as blood.</p> - -<p>Yes, it would soon be evening! A sudden weariness came over me, and my -feet began to lag on the dusty road. But I went on, on, on, not knowing -or caring whither, just going on ... as iron goes toward the magnet....</p> - -<p>The town finally! </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> - -<p>On my right a shop!</p> - -<p>At my side an old old man, the picture of poverty, near-sighted, -ragged, bent, with long white hair and a long white beard. I stopped, -and he stopped too.</p> - -<p>Ah yes! I understand! This old man beside me is I—myself, reflected in -a mirror of the shop!...</p> - -<p>Farther along, the crossing of two streets.</p> - -<p>Aha! A house that looks familiar. My house—the house where I used to -live!</p> - -<p>So that was the goal toward which I had been going all along -unconsciously! My legs seemed suddenly paralyzed, I could go no -farther. I leaned against a wall there where I was; and I gazed, and -gazed, with all my eyes....</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXXVII</h2> - -<p>With all my eyes, I say....</p> - -<p>The street was full of people, crowding sidewalks and pavement, edging -about this way and that and talking in hushed voices. Most of them were -dressed in black. A goodly number of military and naval men in parade -uniform were standing to one side, grouped around some higher officers -whose plumes I could distinguish over the heads of the throng. Among -them a tall impressive personage, with a grand cordon on his breast. -A noble face of regular outlines! Ah yes! My admiral, the governor! -Vice-Admiral de Fierce!</p> - -<p>A Cross, with priests behind it. The red cauls of the choir boys stand -out against the surplices and albs of white and gold. A canon’s gown is -fidgeting nervously about in the company of clergy....</p> - -<p>Farther on, a squad of colonial troops, drawn up in line, their guns at -rest.... They are waiting for something, apparently....</p> - -<p>Spectators looking on from the windows and down from the roofs and -balconies of the houses.... Flocks of urchins climbing pillars and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> -posts, seeking points of vantage.... But there is no laughing nor -shouting. The crowd is in a serious, earnest mood, or is trying to seem -so.</p> - -<p>All eyes are on the door of my house, which is heavily draped in -mourning. A shield of velvet has been set up above the casing and on it -I can read two initials in silver: <i>A. N.</i> Of course: <i>A. N.</i>: André -Narcy! That’s what they must stand for.</p> - -<p>Of course! I understand! My funeral! Of course!</p> - -<p>Here is the hearse, slowly drawing up as the crowd divides before it. -The horses are heavily caparisoned; on the four ebony columns that -adorn the coffin-rest, four heavy plumes are waving. And oh, how many -wreathes! Ten, twenty, thirty of them I can count, all of them bedecked -with the tricolor of my country! On each an inscription in letters of -gold. I cannot read them at this distance. Perhaps, later, when they -pass this way....</p> - -<p>Ah!... What’s the matter now? The crowd is all astir.... They are -probably bringing out the body.... Yes, there it is ... the hooded -bearers are coming down from the front door. How fast they walk! Not -much of a load after all.... I rise on tip-toe to see better.... My -coffin is of the flat topped kind common in the South of France! The -wood cannot be seen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> They have draped it in a heavy cloth.... Here are -some other men in hoods.... They go up to the hearse and place on my -coffin a military cloak of mine—light blue—then a cavalry sabre, with -its scabbard; and these clink as they are laid one across the other. -Of course ... that’s the custom at military funerals ... my uniform -and my sword! I suppose my Distinguished Service Cross is there.... I -cannot see it.... There is hardly time to look at everything.... For -... something else I see ... yes ... with those other eyes of mine, -those moving unfailing eyes that can see through walls, and rocks, and -trees.... They can see just as well through the boards of a coffin.... -Yes, I see, I see perfectly well!</p> - -<p>Oh! Oh! Oh! What horror! What horror!</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>A blast of trumpets.... The cortège moves....</p> - -<p>Leading the way come the priests chanting the ritual ... the ritual of -the dead.... Then eight officers, the pall-bearers of honor. Then the -soldiers.... At last, the hearse....</p> - -<p>Oh, careful, careful, please! The springs of the hearse creak over -the rough pavement! Oh, careful, careful, please! You are jostling me -too hard, too hard! It is a poor miserable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> corpse you are carrying -there.... It must not be treated so! Look out! Don’t you see there, -under the hearse? The coffin is leaking! Black drops are oozing out and -falling one by one upon the pavement.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>The crowd moves off behind the procession.</p> - -<p>Now they have turned the corner ... on the way to the church ... and -thence to the cemetery. They seem to be hurrying ... yes ... because -night is falling fast....</p> - -<p>One by one the windows close. The street is empty now.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>I remained where I was, my back still propped against the wall. My -weariness overcame me suddenly. My legs gave way at the knees. I -slipped slowly to the ground.</p> - -<p>Yet the determination to go on arose within me. I got to my feet, -somehow. I crossed the street toward my house! Toward my house—of -course! Where else should I go, except to my house?</p> - -<p>The front door had been left open, the heavy black crêpe dangling -around it. I reached the threshold! I stopped.</p> - -<p>There in the hall-way stood a little table covered with a black -silk tablecloth. On it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> an ink-well, a pen, and a heavy funeral -register. Through the open door a draught was coming strong, blowing -the black-bordered pages over one by one.</p> - -<p>I turned them back, and found the frontispiece.</p> - -<p>It was covered with hastily scribbled signatures. There my friends -and messmates, along with many strangers, had written their names, as -the custom is. Yes, and heading them all, was my name, the name I had -formerly had, that is. It was not written, however, but penned in print:</p> - -<p class="center">MONSIEUR CHARLES-ANDRÉ NARCY</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smaller">CAPTAIN OF CAVALRY, D.S.C.</span></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Died the twenty-first of December, 1908, in the<br />thirty-third year -of his age.</i></p> - -<p>I picked up the register and hid it under my clothing—the threadbare -rags that had once been my riding suit.</p> - -<p>And I went away!</p> - -<p>I went away. Why not? This house belonged to Captain Charles-André -Narcy—the man who was dead.... My house was somewhere else ... -obviously ... somewhere else.</p> - -<p>I went away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>And I too walked rapidly, outside in the street.... Rapidly, yes; -though I staggered at every step from sheer exhaustion....</p> - -<p>The street was ... no ... it was not quite deserted.... There, on the -sidewalk across from me stood ... a man? a woman? Someone! Someone who -was standing motionless in front of the house, and looking at the door -that was heavily draped in mourning....</p> - -<p>A man? A woman? A woman! A good-looking woman ... well dressed ... a -single piece dress of a light color.... She was carrying a muff, a big -fluffy muff that completely swallowed her small hands ... a muff of -ermine....</p> - -<p>I knew the woman. Of course! It was she ... Madeleine.... I knew her -very well. But, you understand ... I was dead, was I not? Besides, I -was very, very old.... Surprised more than moved.... In fact, not at -all aroused ... my emotions! Just surprised! But very much surprised!</p> - -<p>Anyhow ... I would just walk by her ... curiosity merely....</p> - -<p>Yes, she, beyond a doubt.... Her eyes were glued to the door of -mourning. And I could see ... that was strange!... why, she was -weeping, weeping ... great silent burning tears!</p> - -<p>Weeping? That was strange! I hadn’t <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>expected to find her weeping! Oh, -for that matter ... a woman’s tears!</p> - -<p>All the same, I felt I ought to do something....</p> - -<p>With a moment’s hesitation I stepped up to her:</p> - -<p>“Mad....”</p> - -<p>She started from her grieving reverie, saw that I was there, swept her -great muff across her tear-stained cheeks.... Then she felt around -inside the muff with her fingers, tossed me a handful of coins ... and -fled....</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXXVIII</h2> - -<p>And I fled too.</p> - -<p>There was no doubt after that! I was dead! Very very dead! More dead -perhaps than He, than the other Man, whose corpse I see, I persist -in seeing there inside its coffin ... a terribly wasted corpse, -frightfully decomposed. More dead than He, because He does not know -that He is dead; while ... I ... I....</p> - -<p>Furthermore it was not his funeral they were celebrating; it was -mine.... I am the man those tears were for ... and those flowers, and -those uniforms, and the hushed voices of the multitude ... all that -fascinated gazing at my decoration, my shoulder straps, my sabre ... -there on the coffin. And those same people are now shivering out there -in this cold of a December evening ... to pay their respects to ... me -... to me ... not to Him.</p> - -<p>And I should be there too ... with them. I must hurry....</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>The red of the sunset is turning to lavender ... a color of death and -mourning.... The leafless sycamores along the boulevard are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> spreading -on that sombre sheet of flame the black lace-work of their twigs and -branchlets. At the zenith a depth of emerald green is growing deeper....</p> - -<p>Is there something beyond death, I wonder? Something? Anything?</p> - -<p>No! I cannot believe that possible! I can see that corpse too well ... -that corpse, in its coffin....</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>A great crowd around my grave ... almost as great as the throng in -front of my house.... It is only a short walk from town ... the -graveyard....</p> - -<p>No, the ceremony is over.... The sexton is filling the grave.... I can -hear the gravel as it strikes my coffin....</p> - -<p>It seems to be all covered now.... I walked too slowly.... But I was -very tired....</p> - -<p>The earth they are throwing into the hole.... I can feel it heavier and -heavier upon my chest.... Six feet deep.... I never knew it could be so -very heavy!</p> - -<p>Now everything is over. The grave is filled.... The people are going -home.</p> - -<p>Home? No, I shall stay here! Where have I to go? This place here, -henceforth, is home for me ... my home!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> - -<h2>XXXIX</h2> - -<p>Now all is written. I have told my story. Here my pencil rests on this -flagstone, this lid of shale that covers my grave and already bears my -epitaph. My pencil.... I laid it here. It is worn to the wood. And I -have closed the register. All its pages to the very last are covered -with my cramped close-scribbled writing.</p> - -<p>All is written. All—everything! And everything I was in duty bound to -write—for men and women—my brothers and sisters—are in danger though -they know it not. And I had to write ... because my tongue is tied ... -paralyzed, petrified in my mouth....</p> - -<p>All is written. You who read what I have written know the truth ... for -the love of your God, if you have one, do not doubt my word ... but -understand, believe....</p> - -<p>The sun has vanished below the horizon. Night has come.... My last -night.... Yes, death will come to me ere long! My life has run its -course. Its lamp is going out, because the oil has burned away!</p> - -<p>On this long polished flagstone which has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> been my writing table and on -which my elbows rest I can still spell out my epitaph, though the light -is failing:</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Here Lies</i></p> - -<p class="center">CHARLES-ANDRÉ NARCY</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Born</i> April 27, 1878</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Died</i> December 21, 1908.</p> - -<p>December 21, 1908 ... or January 22, 1909.... January 22, 1909—that’s -today! Just a month ... no, not quite a month ... a month less one -day.... I have been here on this tomb, on my tomb, waiting for death, -my second death....</p> - -<p>A month.... One month.... And all the while my eyes have been gazing -down under this flagstone ... my eyes? those other eyes, I mean ... -which see ... which insist on seeing ... implacably ... gazing down -under this flagstone upon a coffin ... my coffin.... The coffin is -quite new and undecayed.... But it holds only a skeleton ... a naked -skeleton, without clothing ... its clothes ... my clothes, were far too -thin ... they fell to dust immediately. Nothing except the bones are -left; and they too are all but vanishing. On them, however, I can see -something ... the letter of the colonel of artillery ... they buried -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>it by mistake with the corpse ... it is still quite legible....</p> - -<p>Yes, a skeleton ... a skeleton about to fall away to dust ... nothing -but a skeleton.... How can I continue living if I am nothing, after -all, but that skeleton plus this ruin of wasted flesh and bone that -has collapsed on this grave here? Impossible, assuredly! Impossible, -fortunately....</p> - -<p>A month.... one month! The earth came up around the edges of this -flagstone ... so heavy that it sank into the loosened ground.... Some -workmen came and levelled the mound again, tamping the earth down under -the stone ... so heavy the stone ... and heavy the earth under it.... -Oh, my tired body cannot support such burdens longer....</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>Tomorrow when they come to bury me they will put me in another -grave.... And I shall have that other earth and another stone to bear! -No man surely was ever tormented thus!</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * - * * *</p> - -<p>The sun is sinking again.... In the west the sky is reddening ... as -red as it was the day of my funeral....</p> - -<p>The weather is clear.... Not a single cloud disturbs the even azure -of the firmament....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> The winter wind has fallen and the branches of -the cypress trees have ceased their murmuring.... A gleam of blood-red -light is striking on their black tips.... Over all the heavens and over -all the earth a great and sombre beauty glows.... Splendor and Serenity -... reaching even into my soul....</p> - -<p>Farewell....</p> - -<p class="center space-above">FINIS.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE SECRET ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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