XXXI
A CARAVAN DRAMA
The night was dark and stormy. On the Sceaux road a gipsy was bravingthe tempest, making difficult headway in the teeth of a gale whichflapped her long cloak with impeding force, soaked her to the skin,dashed masses of water in her face, plastered streaming locks to herforehead, taking her breath with its suffocating rush. Shielding hermouth with her hand, the gipsy pressed steadily forward.
A church struck eleven slow strokes, borne on the wind. Lashed by thetempest, the gipsy pressed on, muttering as she moved:
"Vagualame told me that he would be at the first milestone beyond theaviation sheds.... I must get there! I will get there!"
It was Bobinette, struggling on in blind obedience to him whom sheconsidered her master, towards the strange meeting-place fixed by thebandit five days ago.
Under her looks of Parisian delicacy, Bobinette had a valiant spirit,a high-strung temperament and a will of steel.... Bobinette wished toreach the appointed trysting-place: she would reach it.
But gipsy Bobinette had her fears. She was painfully impressed by theobscurity of the night--sinister, menacing. From the marshy fieldsflanking her to right and left unaccustomed sounds, weird noisesreached her straining ears through the gusty darkness.
Then what did her master want with her here, and at such an hour?
Never had Bobinette confessed to herself that Vagualame's realidentity was unknown to her. What dark personality was hid behind thatfamiliar figure? She asked herself that now, with shudderingapprehension. She had remarked certain coincidences, noted certaindetails: she divined that this enigmatic accordion player might wellbe none other than--Fantomas.
Fantomas! That name was it not a frightful symbol of all the crimes,all the atrocities, the monstrous synthesis of unpunished evil?
In her tormented brain those three syllables of sinister intent weresounding like a funeral knell.... At thought of Fantomas and Vagualameco-mingled, Bobinette's terror-filled heart fainted within her. Yet,prey to haunting terrors as she was, Bobinette pressed unfalteringlyforward towards what Fate held for her.
One reassuring thought came to hearten her. At every step she took thesequins of her gipsy circlet moved and shook and tinkled on herforehead. They reminded her of the words chanted by the oldsecond-hand dealer when he sold her the string of sequins, words fromthe celebrated song of the Andalusian gipsies.:
_"The coral shines on my skin so brown-- The pin of gold in my chignon: I go in search of my fortune."..._
Was she truly hastening towards good fortune through this night ofwind and rain?... Why not? Bobinette felt comforted. She said toherself that since Vagualame had summoned her to meet him in gipsycostume, it must be because he intended to help her to escape:otherwise why had he foreseen the necessity for such a disguise?
To make sure of finding the rendezvous, she had taken a reconnoiteringjourney along the Sceaux road the night before.... She knew now shewas close to the famous milestone.
Bobinette jumped as though she would leap out of her skin!
On the left side of the road tall trees, stripped of their leaves,stood swaying like skeletons in the wind. Just there her eyes had seensomething dark, a black patch, blacker than the surrounding night.
What was it?
A strange sound issued from the darkness, a low, dull, deep,complaining sound breathed from some infernal throat! Was it a cry, agrowl, a snarl?... She halted, shivering with fright, her earshumming, her heart contracted in the grip of an indescribable terror,doubting her senses, doubting the reality of the sound she had heard.
Bobinette stood motionless.
The wind whistling through the branches conveyed another sound to hersenses. She heard a mocking voice, harsh, imperious, a menacing voice,a voice whose orders she had obeyed many a time and oft, a voice shehad never heard without secret terror, the voice of hermaster--Vagualame!
"Go forward, you fool! Why do you halt?"
As though galvanised, Bobinette with a supreme effort of will obeyed.A few seconds and she was by the side of Vagualame, who had come tomeet her.
"Did you hear?" she gasped.
"I heard the bellowing of the wind," laughed Vagualame: "I heard thesound of sleety rain, I heard the noise of trees writhing and creakingin the wind--nothing more!"
"Someone or something cried out!"
"Who could?... We are alone here!... Bobinette you are alone here withme!"
There was a pause. Vagualame's voice was once more mocking.
"Am I to think you are afraid?"
"No, Vagualame, I am not afraid; but."...
"But you are trembling like a leaf!" cried Vagualame, with a burst oflaughter which sounded strangely false. He seized Bobinette in an irongrip and forced her forward.
"Come! Come under shelter!" They moved towards the black blotBobinette had not yet identified. Almost directly they were leaningagainst a gipsy van drawn up at the side of the road.
"Your future domicile," said Vagualame, showing the van to thebewildered Bobinette. "But this is not the time to installyourself--there are things to be said first--between you and me,Bobinette!"
The bandit was enveloped from head to foot in a dark cloak. AllBobinette could see of him was his profile: his features wereconcealed by a soft felt hat with turned-down brim, which showed atintervals against the sky when the lightning flashed and flickered.
The girl shivered: her master's last words were full of some darkmenace.
"What do you want to say?" she murmured.
Vagualame took a few steps forward, then returned to where the girlwas leaning against the van.
"Listen to me, Bobinette, listen, for, by Heaven, the words I am aboutto utter are the last you will ever hear."
Before Bobinette could interrupt, Vagualame continued:
"Tell me, do you know of anything more wicked, more contemptible, morevile, more shameful than treachery, than betrayal, than a trap set, asnare laid to catch one who has always been your friend, yourdefender?... Tell me, Bobinette, who is more hateful than the Judaswho sells you with a kiss?... Tell me, Bobinette, who is less worthyof pity than the cowardly criminal who betrays his accomplice?... Thanthe bandit who delivers up his chief for money, perhaps for less thanmoney--because of fear--who betrays his master to save his ownskin?"...
Bobinette did not seem to understand one word of this apostrophe. Shekept silence, terrified, crushed, in front of the awful abyss shedivined.
Vagualame seized her by the shoulders and shook her brutally,thrusting her fiercely against the side of the van.
"Speak! Reply, Bobinette! I command you!"
"I do not understand you! I am afraid!"
A shout of ferocious laughter burst from Vagualame.
"You do not understand me! You are afraid?... Ah! If you are afraid itis because you understand well enough!... Bobinette! You know wellenough what I have to reproach you with!... What I have to force youto expiate!"...
A hoarse cry escaped the girl's parched lips:
"You are mad, mad, Vagualame!... Pity!... Pity!"
In a voice so hard, so biting, that the words seemed arrows piercingher quivering flesh, the bandit addressed his victim:
"Bobinette, you deceive yourself strangely! I am not of those to whomone cries for pity!... I know not the word, nor such weakness. I havenever had it, and never shall have it for any living soul."
The bandit paused. Then, in a tone of rising anger, he continued:
"And you think me mad? But what sort of woman are you, Bobinette, totry and deceive me? What madness is yours to think, to imagine you candupe me?... To confess that with such words and speeches as yourfeminine mind can think of you are going to ensnare me, make me altermy decision, turn me from my vengeance--that you should decide how Ishall act--I?... I?... Vagualame?"
The bandit pronounced "I?" with such an accent of authority, with suchterrific pride, that Bobinette, with a sound as though the deathrattle were in her throat, cried:
&n
bsp; "Vagualame! Who are you? Tell me!... Tell me!"...
"You ask me who I am?... You wish to know?... It be according to yourwish!... Who am I?... Look!"...
Slowly, with a movement firm and dignified, Vagualame unfolded thelong cloak which enveloped him. He tore off his hat and flung it athis feet. With arms crossed he apostrophied Bobinette:
"Dare to utter my name! Dare to name me!"
Before Bobinette's distracted eyes a terrifying outline showeditself.... The beggar of a moment ago, his cloak removed, his hatthrown to the ground, appeared no more a bent old man: he stood there,upright, young, vigorous, superbly muscular. He was sheathed from headto foot in a tight-fitting garment, black as Erebus!
Bobinette could not see his face, a black hood covered it: twogleaming eyes alone were visible, eyes that to the distraught girlseemed lit by fires from hell!
This vision, the vision of this man without a face, resembling noother man, this apparition with nameless mask, its body like somestatue cut from solid darkness, was yet so definite in its mysterythat Bobinette, uttering the indescribable cry of some inhuman thing,articulated:
"Fantomas!... You are Fantomas!"
The bandit spoke:
"I am Fantomas!... I am he for whom the entire world is searching,whom none has ever seen, whom none can recognise!... I am Crimeincarnated!... I am Night!... No human sees my face, because Crime andNight are featureless!... I am illimitable Power!... I am he who mocksat all the powers, at all the efforts, at all the forces!... I ammaster of all, of everything; of all times and seasons.... I amDeath!... Bobinette, thou hast said it--I am Fantomas."
His wretched listener could not breathe. She felt death in her veins:she felt the earth dissolving into dust.... She sank on her knees.
"Pity, master! Pity!... Fantomas, have pity!"...
"You join those words together!... Fantomas and Pity!"... A furiousanger seized the bandit. "Fantomas knows not what mercy is, I tellyou!... Fantomas ordains that whoso resist him shall perish--shalldisappear!"
"But, Master!... What have I done?... Master!... Fantomas, what have Idone?"
Slowly the bandit enveloped himself once more in his cloak....Bobinette was on her knees, as one nailed to the earth!... Fantomashad hypnotised her into immobility, as the bird is hypnotised by thecat watching its prey. He played with her. He could seize and masterher at his pleasure.
In a voice cold and hard as the nether millstone, he denounced hisvictim:
"Bobinette, you aimed at my betrayal!... You pointed out theNihilist's haunt to Juve, to Fandor, to my most personal enemies, tothose who would hound me to the guillotine!"
"I never did!... I did not do it!... I swear it!" shrieked themaddened girl.
Fantomas, convinced that Bobinette, and she alone, was the traitorhere....
"You are to die; but not by my hand!... The hand of Fantomas does notdeal death to those who once served him, to the traitorous wretchesonce in his employ!... But you shall die, Bobinette! I deliver you todeath!"...
Fantomas laughed. He laughed because the body of this woman, huddledin the mud, crushed to the earth, was a pleasing thing, becauseFantomas was happy when he made human creatures suffer, when hetortured, when he wrought sweet vengeance....
Far away sounded the church bells.... The carillon was ringing....Church bells were chiming through the night. To Bobinette, the abjectcreature grovelling in the mire of the roadway, the bells soundedvaguely serene, far, far away....
She seemed to be floating in some indefinable element, floating likethistledown on an irresistible breeze.... Suddenly she had thesensation that she was sinking, falling, that she was rolling down,down, into the depths of a bottomless abyss....
When she opened her eyes, tried to move, sat up, she knew she was notdreaming.... She knew she had lost consciousness and was coming backto life.... She asked herself could she possibly be alive? Fantomashad threatened her with death, and yet she lived.... Where was she?...Bobinette felt so weak and giddy that she remained in a sittingposture.... What exactly had happened?... Ah!--yes!--when Fantomas hadannounced she was to die, she had fallen down on the road: her skirtwas still wet and muddy, her testing fingers told her that! She wascold! What had happened since?... Bobinette heard the wind blowingrain as still falling, but she noticed none fell on her face.
"Where am I?" she asked aloud. Clear came the mental answer:
"Fantomas has shut me up in this van! I am imprisoned in this van!"...She felt about her with her fingers. She was certainly sitting onrough boards.... She knelt, she stretched out her arms: she touchedrough boards.... Yes, this was the van she was in!... Was Fantomasquite near? He might appear again! She was not saved!... But inBobinette who, terrified at being confronted with Fantomasself-confessed, had tasted the bitterness of death, a powerfulreaction had set in: she was becoming mistress of herself once more.
Fantomas had said to her: "Thou shalt die!" She now decided that shewould live, would save herself!... She must escape!
"If Fantomas were there I should hear him," she thought. "He must havegone.... I must at all costs escape from this prison before hereturns."
Bobinette got up.... The van must have a door, a window. She wouldforce her way out somehow. She was strong, and she was fighting forher life!... She would make a tour of the van!... She felt her way byfingering the wooden side of her prison.... The van must be empty, shethought, for she had not encountered any furniture--when, suddenly,she felt her hand come into contact with something soft and warm,which moved. What was it?...
Bobinette jumped back.... She must be mad to imagine!... She waited afew moments--she stepped forward--anew her fingers touchedsomething.... She could not say what!... But while she tried to definethe strange object her fingers touched, she felt the unknown thing wasdrawing back--was avoiding her caress!...
The van was now filled with a formidable growling. She recognised itas a repetition of the sound she had heard when nearing her sinisterrendezvous.
Bobinette understood!... She knew!... It was a bear!... It had beenasleep. She had waked it!
Fantomas had shut her in with a bear: she was to be devoured alive!
Bobinette softly withdrew to the other side of the van. She waited. Nogrowling sound reached her. The bear must have gone to sleep again.She could hear its heavy breathing. As the air became exhausted in theconfined space the noisome odour of the beast caught her by thethroat.... What was she to do? Bobinette asked herself this again andagain as the slow and dreadful hours of that night wore on.
"The bear sleeps," she said to herself; "but he will wake in themorning hungry: he will hurl himself on me and I shall be done for!"
After interminable hours of waiting, of aching immobility, of dullagony of mind, the interior of the van was becoming slowly visible....She had listened to the lessening fury of the wind: the rain hadceased. The wan light of early day came through the cracks in theplanking. Bobinette could see the bear waking up: it turned, yawned:suddenly it fixed its eyes on her and crouched.
What should she do? What could she do?
Bobinette had once read that the human eye could frighten a wild beastinto submission: she forced herself to stare at the animal withconcentrated energy. Alas! she was too frightened herself to terrify aferocious animal into harmless submission!
The bear licked itself. As though sure of its prey, which he wouldpresently fall upon and rend, he took his time and proceeded to makehis toilette.
It was grotesquely tragic, the leisurely tranquillity of this beastface to face with this girl who could count the seconds of liferemaining to her.
* * * * *
Now and again Bobinette could hear the rapid passings of motor-cars onthe high road outside, speeding to Paris or Versailles, passing thevan abandoned, left derelict by the wayside. Far, indeed, were thesepassers from suspecting the terrible drama of which it was thetheatre.
Call out?
That were madness! Her cries might pass unheeded. Why shou
ld shesuppose the drivers of these cars racing on their appointed way wouldstop, locate the cry, and succour her? No, it would but excite theanger of the bear, rouse it to action, thus hasten her own dreadfulend!...
* * * * *
A man was walking on the Sceaux road--walking fast. He wore theclothes of a working man. He was leading a sorry nag.... The manhalted and let the nag go free. A sound had caught his ear--a growlingsound.
He listened intently.
"Did I imagine it?" he murmured.
Again that growling, punctuated by a woman's sharp scream. The man wasoff at racing speed towards the van, which was but a hundred yardsaway.
"Great Heaven! Shall I arrive too late?" ejaculated the man.
Reaching it, breathless, he glued his ear to the door. The van shookwith the movement and growling of some beast of prey about to spring.
The man drew back, rushed forward, hurled himself against the door anddrove it inwards.
A shot broke the silence of the morning.
The man rolled over the body of the bear, shot dead through the heart.The man freed himself; escaped the convulsive movement of its limbs,and crawled towards a crumpled heap huddled in a corner of this tragicstage. Bobinette's poor face, exposed to view, was slashed and torn:it bore the dreadful claw-marks of the bear.
The man placed his hand on her heart.
"She lives!" he said softly.
Supporting her with infinite gentleness, the man addressed her in avoice trembling with emotion:
"Do not be afraid, Bobinette! You are saved! It is Juve who is tellingyou so! It is Juve!"