X
THE HOUSE AMONG THE PINES
Clever rascals are of necessity friendless and incomparably lonely men.Prudence prevents them from confiding their affairs to any other, eventheir nearest and dearest; therefore they are obliged to leadself-centred and segregated lives in the truest sense of the term, andare absolutely prohibited from tasting that greatest of luxuries, humansympathy. Since my last embarkation upon a career of villainy, I had sofar escaped the pangs of ennui, because my mind had been alwaysoccupied with my ambition, and action had followed mercifully fast upondesign. The mere fact, however, of having succeeded in making myself arich man, robbed me of that precious concern for the future which hadhitherto been my refuge from reflection. It is true that considerationsof vengeance partially supplied its place, but as I had yet to find myenemy before I could exchange purpose for practice, I began to realizethe utter isolation of my state. I arrived at Paris in a desolate andlistless mood, and so wearied with my own companionship that I wasready to make friends with a dog.
For that reason, while sipping coffee after dinner in the saloon of theHotel de Louvre, where I had put up, I by no means disdained theovertures of an old and weazened little Frenchman, who appeared to beas lonely as myself.
He was a curious looking creature: grey, grizzled, and stooped ofshoulder. His face was seamed with a thousand wrinkles, that evenoverspread his long melancholy nose. But his eyes, although small, werevery bright, and his mouth was that of a humourist.
He sidled up to me by degrees, evidently wishful to make myacquaintance, and yet a little nervous of the first step. But I met himhalf way with an observation on the weather, and presently we wereseated before the same table in close and animated conversation.
"Life is for the most part a dull and dreary affair, monsieur," said he.
"The remark of an intelligent and experienced man, monsieur," said I.
He bowed and smiled. "That is true, monsieur," he returned, "but yourdiscernment proves that you also possess the qualities which you havementioned."
"Yet in an inferior degree, for I take it that I am your junior, andyou have the air of a man who has improved his opportunities to theutmost."
The compliment delighted him. "Monsieur," he cried, "I am fortunate tohave encountered you. I desire to know you better. Permit me! I callmyself--Bertrand Du Gazet. I am a native of Paris, but I have spenthalf my life in America, where I acquired a certain fortune. I have butjust returned to France, to find my relatives and old friends dead andwidely scattered, and myself utterly forgotten. It is a sadhome-coming."
"Truly," I said politely. "My name, monsieur, is Henri Belloc, and,strange to say, I too have long been a stranger to my country. Thisvery day I have come back to Paris after an absence of many years. And,like you, I have none to welcome me."
"We are then comrades in misfortune," he declared, beaming upon me thewhile. "I drink, monsieur, to our better acquaintance."
"And I," said I, raising my _petit verre_ to my lips. "I drink to itsspeedy ripening into friendship."
He put one hand upon his heart and extended to me the other, which Iwarmly pressed.
"I am a bachelor," he observed.
"I, too, monsieur."
"Of all the things in this world, I like the gaming table," said he.
"The dice are fine thought killers, monsieur."
"I loved once a beautiful woman, and she betrayed me."
"It is a habit of the accursed sex, from which I also have suffered."
"Monsieur!" he cried, "I perceive well that we are destined to befriends. We have not only a similarity of thought and sentiment, butalso of experience."
"Garcon," I shouted, "a bottle of champagne and two glasses."
The wine was brought and we pledged each other with effusion.
"I made my fortune out of oil," said Du Gazet.
"I made mine upon the Stock Exchange," said I.
"Mine is so great that I could not spend it in ten years, though I losta thousand francs a night."
"Mine is even more considerable, M. Du Gazet."
He nodded and gave me a beaming smile. "Have you any plans for theevening, M. Belloc?"
"None," I replied.
"Then allow me to be your mentor. I know a place not far from herewhere one may woo the goddess Fortune to be kind. It is true that lastnight I lost five thousand francs by hazard of the wheel, but I wouldlike well to recoup myself, and shall do so, as you shall see--if youwill be so good as to come with me."
"With pleasure," I cried, and sprang to my feet.
I suspected by then that my new friend was nothing more or less thanthe tout of some gaming house. But I was reckless, and thecompanionship of any rascal seemed preferable to being left alone. Amoment later we were strolling arm in arm down the Rue St. GermainL'Auxerrois. Chatting amiably together, we came, at the end of some fewminutes, to the Rue St. Denis, up which we turned. Shortly afterpassing the Rue Mauconseil, we entered a narrow unnamed side-street,which was nevertheless flanked with respectable-looking houses ofantique but substantial architecture. Before the door of one of theseM. Du Gazet stopped, and giving me a meaning glance, he proceeded toscratch upon the panels with his ring. The signal was immediatelyresponded to. The door opened a few inches, and a voice from theinterior darkness demanded our business.
"Montereau," replied my guide.
"Enter!" cried the voice, and the door swung wide.
M. Du Gazet took my arm and conducted me in silence down a dark,thickly carpeted hall. We had barely half traversed it, however, whenthe door keeper suddenly turned on an electric lamp, and I perceivedbefore us a wide staircase, supported on double rows of marble columns,that led to the floor above.
"Good!" exclaimed my mentor. "I detest gloom. Come, my friend."
Nothing loth, I followed him up the stairs, and a moment later wereached a landing-stage that was filled with huge palms growing in tubsof earthenware. A liveried attendant guarded a closed door that washalf screened with fronds.
He looked at us inquiringly, but M. du Gazet muttered some pass-word inhis ear, and he ushered us forthwith into an immense brilliantlyilluminated apartment, which was sparsely thronged with well-dressedmen and women, and furnished in imitation of the Casino at Monaco.
One table was devoted to roulette, a second to rouge et noir, and athird to baccarat. All were occupied, but, because perhaps of theearliness of the hour, there were not many onlookers. M. du Gazet ledme to the second named, and after watching the game for about a quarterhour, we were both able to secure chairs at the board, owing to theevil fortune of the individuals we displaced. Like most other votariesof chance, I had and have a method. It is simple if unscientific, andit consists in backing each colour alternately seven times insuccession. I at first contented myself with small stakes, beinganxious to watch my mentor. M. du Gazet, however, much to my surprise,for I still believed him to be a tout, began to gamble in earnest fromthe moment he sat down, and each time he staked five hundred francs.
"Truly," thought I, "if he is a tout, he must have an interest in thebank, or he would not be trusted with so much money."
After I had seen him lose four thousand francs, I ceased to doubt hishonesty, for his appearance was transformed. The born gambler's spiritgleamed out of his eyes. His face had assumed a warm fixed flush, andhe was absorbed in his game to the absolute oblivion of every othercircumstance. I spoke to him in order to make sure, but he cursed me inan undertone without turning his head. He had in fact forgotten myexistence.
Feeling more at ease, I immediately increased my stakes, betting on thered. Luck favoured me, and I won steadily; on the red five times out ofseven, on the black almost without a break. At the end of an hour, solarge a heap of gold and notes had accumulated on the table before me,that it interfered with my elbow room, and I was obliged to stand up inorder to make my game. The room had by then become filled with people,and an interested crowd had assembled to watch me play. Success hadmade me excited, and given me
a measure of the gambling fever. Iincreased my stakes to the limit and won again and again. Theexclamations of the onlookers became each moment more loud andunrestrained, so that the croupier's directions could only be heard atintervals: "Faites vos jeux, Messieurs et Mesdames. Faites vos jeux!Rouge perd. Noir gagne! Faites vos jeux!"
I was in the act of stretching out my hand to place a large sum uponthe black for the seventh time in succession, when some inexplicableinstinctive feeling compelled me to look up from the board and into theface of a new-comer who stood watching the game from behind the chairof my immediate _vis-a-vis_. The man was a negro. With a queer thrillof apprehension I looked at him more closely, and then for a second Iwas almost stunned with surprise. He was Jussieu, the infernal cantingnegro surgeon, who at the instance of his master, Sir Charles Venner,had inflicted upon my bound and defenceless body tortures which made meshudder to remember, and who on his own account had dared to lectureand insult me. Before I could collect my scattered wits our eyes met,and the recognition became mutual. The villain started back a pace andglared at me, his eyes rolling in his head. He was attired in afashionably cut evening suit, in which he tried to ape the gentleman,but his immaculate linen threw out his broad black face and hands intobold and hideous relief, and he looked like nothing but a monster. Fora moment I shook with rage, and a murderous impulse almost overwhelmedme. Then came a wiser thought, and I grew calm. I said to myself:"Since the jackal is here, the lion cannot be far away. I shall makethis scoundrel lead me to his master's lair!"
Holding him with my eyes, I fumbled with my hands upon the table, andbegan to stuff my winnings into my pockets. The crowd exclaimed inastonishment, but I paid them no heed. Before, however, I was halfthrough with my business, Jussieu tore his eyes from mine and hurriedtowards the door. I sent my chair crashing behind me with a backwardkick and seized Du Gazet by the shoulder.
"Look after my money!" I cried. "I shall see you later at the hotel."
Without awaiting a response, I broke through the crowd and darted afterJussieu. He had already passed the door, but I caught up with him halfway down the stairs, and, seizing him by the shoulder, obliged him topause.
"What, Monsieur Jussieu!" I snarled, "would you run away from an oldfriend? That is not kind in you."
"You mistake, m'sieur!" he cried. "That is not my name."
"Perhaps not," I muttered. "It will, however, serve my turn. Come,monsieur!" I slipped my arm through his and urged him down the stairs.
Although a larger man than me, he yielded like a coward to my imperiousdemand, protesting volubly the while, however, that I had made a greatmistake, that his name was Grenier, and that he had never set eyes onme.
He was still protesting when we reached the street. But as soon as thedoor of the gambling house had closed behind us I cut him short.
"Look you, Jussieu!" I growled, "I have in my pocket a revolver that isloaded in every chamber. Take me at once to your master, Sir CharlesVenner, or, by the Lord, I shall put a bullet through your head!"
"Monsieur," he began, "I assure you----"
"Silence!" I interrupted. "Another word and you are a dead man!"
A hasty glance had shown me that the street was deserted. I produced mypistol, therefore, as I spoke and presented it to his breast.
The negro started back, rolling his eyes like a maniac, but he spoke noword. He was shivering with fear. I smiled and returned the weapon tomy pocket. Thereupon I gripped his arm and muttered in his ear:"Proceed!"
Uttering a sort of groan, he set off slowly for the Rue Saint Denis."Quicker!" I commanded. He increased his pace. We turned the corner,and a smart walk brought us quickly to the Rue D'Enghien. Turning intothat street the negro stopped presently before the door of a largethree-storied house, whose every window was closely shuttered.
"We have arrived, monsieur," he muttered in a hollow voice.
"You have a latch-key, perhaps?" I asked.
"Yes."
I looked steadily at the house for a moment or two, then curtly orderedmy companion to proceed, still, however, retaining a firm hold of hisarm. Five minutes later we came to the Faubourg Poissonniere. Hailing a_fiacre_, I invited Jussieu to enter, and quickly took a seat besidehim. "The Hotel de Louvre!" I shouted to the driver, and we were off.
The negro was so still and docile that I began to suspect him ofmeditating some plan of escape. Producing my pistol, I thrust themuzzle into his side and cocked it with a loud click. "Death is verynear to you, Jussieu!" I said.
"For God's sake, monsieur!" he groaned.
"Sit very still, Jussieu. It has a hair trigger, and my hand istrembling. I am remembering that it was you who pierced my fingers withneedles and seared my foot with branding irons!"
"Mercy, mercy! Forgive!" he wailed.
His terror was so sharp and evident that I could not withstand thetemptation to play upon it.
"Why should I pardon you?" I demanded. "What mercy did you show tome--you infamous wretch?"
"M'sieur, I was but the tool of others. Do not kill me. For Christ'ssake put up your pistol."
"On the contrary, Jussieu," I said in a terrible voice. "Unless youconsent to obey me implicitly, you shall die this instant, like the dogyou are!"
"Mercy, mercy!" he cried. "I shall do anything you require--anything."
"Will you betray your master?"
"Yes, yes; only, for God's sake, put up your pistol!"
For answer I thrust the muzzle even harder into his side. "Now," saidI, "tell me!" But he uttered a strangled cry.
"M'sieur--I--I--I faint, I die," he gasped, and to my astonishment helurched forward and fell in a limp heap at my feet. I thought at firstit was a trick, and held myself in readiness for a desperate struggle,for in good truth I dared not use my pistol. But the passing lampsshowed me Jussieu's black face turned almost grey, and his staring eyeshideously upturned. The craven had swooned. I fell back chuckling withdelight, for I had been until that moment wondering how on earth Icould possibly contrive to force the brute into my hotel in case heshould turn rusty and decline to accompany me.
As it eventuated, Jussieu was carried, still unconscious, to my room bytwo burly porters, whose garrulous surprise, occasioned by so strange aservice, I reduced to speechlessness with gold. It was five minutes toeleven when I got rid of them. I locked my door and approached thecouch on which the negro lay. He was beginning to wake up. Hastilytearing a linen sheet into strips I succeeded in securely binding hishands and feet before he had properly regained his consciousness. Ithen fastened him to the couch and stood over him with my pistol cocked.
He opened his eyes and blinked up at me.
"In what pocket is the key of your master's door?" I demanded.
"In the right hand side trouser pocket," he answered with a shudder.
"Where is Sir Charles Venner at this moment?"
"At home, monsieur, in bed, I think."
"Does he know that you are out?"
"Yes, m'sieur."
"Where does he sleep?"
"Upstairs, m'sieur, on the second floor, the second room on the leftfrom the head of the staircase."
"Thanks. And who else is there in the house?"
"No--one, m'sieur." He closed his eyes.
"Think, Jussieu!" I growled. "Where is Beudant, your brother negro?"
He did not reply.
"My hand is getting tired," I said coldly. "Let me remind you, Jussieu,that the pistol is furnished with a hair trigger."
The threats galvanised him.
"Beudant sleeps downstairs, on the ground floor," he cried.
"And the others?"
"There are no others, m'sieur."
"You do badly to lie to me, Jussieu. Say your prayers, my man; you havejust a minute to live."
His face went grey, and his eyes almost started from his head. "Mercy,mercy!" he groaned. "I shall tell you the whole truth."
"Quickly, then!"
"A lady occupies the third floor with her servants--while my master
,Beudant, and I dwell on the second floor----" He paused.
"And the ground floor, Jussieu?" I cried impatiently.
"It contains only living rooms, m'sieur. No one sleeps there."
I nodded, for I saw that he had told me the truth. Uncocking therevolver I seized it by the barrel and, bending forward, before hecould guess of my intention, I struck him a violent blow over thetemple with the butt. A white man's skull would have been shivered intofragments. Jussieu merely sighed, but a second blow, more powerfullydelivered still, rendered him insensible. Forcing his jaws agape, Igagged him with a towel, and afterwards ransacked his pockets. Theycontained a bunch of keys, a few gold pieces, and a handful of silver.I had scarcely bestowed his possessions about my person when a knocksounded on the door.
"Who is there?" I demanded, striding forward.
"It is I, monsieur, Bertrand du Gazet," answered a muffled voice.
Cautiously opening the door I peered out, and saw standing in thepassage without the little old man who had taken me to the gamblinghouse. His hands were full of notes and gold.
"It is your money I have brought you as you requested," he observed,smiling genially. "You were foolish to leave so soon, monsieur. Fortunedoes not often so bountifully confer her favours. See, here are morethan seven thousand francs. Indeed, you were wrong to run away,monsieur."
I was in a quandary. I could not admit my unwelcome visitor, and I didnot like to drive him away, since he had come to do me a kindness.Putting on a fine air of frankness, I said to him in low tones: "Mydear Du Gazet, I cannot thank you as I ought just now--because I have avisitor, you understand."
An expression of disgust crossed his face. He thought, it seemed, thatmy visitor was of the fair sex.
"I would not disturb you for the world," he muttered with sarcasm, "butwhat of your money?"
"Oblige me by keeping it until to-morrow."
"As you will; good-night, monsieur." He shrugged his shoulders anddeparted, his whole bearing expressive of contempt. No doubt heconsidered me a liar, since I had railed against womankind quite asbitterly as he had done not many hours before.
I could not, however, afford to waste thought on him, for I had much todo. Stripping off my evening clothes, I speedily changed into a suit ofdark brown tweed, and drew on my feet a pair of felt-soled shoes.Having armed myself with a large sum of money and a loaded revolver, Istole softly out of the room. While locking the door behind me I hearda distant sigh. Swinging round I peered in the direction of the sound,and for a fleeting fragment of a second saw a face at the far end ofthe corridor. It vanished so swiftly, however, that I had no time toregister its impression on my mind, and a moment later I doubted that Ihad seen anything. The corridor was deserted absolutely save formyself. I waited for a few silent minutes, then, reassured, made my wayto the street. A _fiacre_ drove me to the Boulevard Poissoniere, where,having alighted, I walked to the Rue D'Enghien, and as the clocks werechiming the hour after midnight, I arrived before my place ofdestination, the house that contained my enemy. Without pausing aninstant, I climbed the steps and noiselessly inserted Jussieu'slatch-key into the lock of the front door. It yielded, the door openedwith a slight creak, and I crossed the threshold. I found myself in awide but dimly lighted hall. It was carpeted with cocoanut matting.Doors crowded its sides, all closed. Before me was a staircase, whosesteps were composed of slate, which had been worn away in the middle,as if by centuries of footfalls. I was about to mount when of a suddena strange wonder caught me and I paused. Until that moment blind hatehad controlled my actions and carried me where I stood. But now I askedmyself the question: "Agar Hume, what will you do? Is it murder thatyou contemplate?"
It was a fearful thought, and I shuddered as it came. But I could notanswer it. I had never known so little of myself. In mind and body Iwas alert, expectant, calm. But there was that in me which I could notunderstand, a malignant remorseless spirit which had possession of myfaculties, and which declined to be questioned or displaced. At itscommand I ceased to speculate, and began instead to listen. The housewas as silent as a tomb. Some power beyond my cognizance presentlyplucked at my feet, and I found myself mounting the stairs. I rememberpassing one door and turning the handle of a second. Then I was in aroom, dark as Erebus, creeping towards a bed, upon which lay an unseensleeper, whose long, deep respirations guided my stealthy movements.What ensued appeared even then like nothing so much as the happeningsof some wild and fevered dream. I paused beside the bed and my hands,drawn by an irresistible power, glided light as feathers across thecoverlid, across a man's sleeping form, unto his throat. There theysettled and took hold. I heard a strangled groan. A sudden bright lightfilled the room, and Sir Charles Venner's livid outstarting eyes glaredinto mine. His arms encircled me. With an almost super-human strengthhe writhed beneath me from the bed, and we fell together with a fullbut heavy crash upon the floor. With a fierce and terrible satisfactionI watched his face blacken and swell, his tongue thicken and protrudefrom his ghastly open mouth. Before, however, I could kill him, awarning step and a loud cry sounded from the door. Quick as lightning Isprang erect and turned. The negro surgeon, Beudant, Jussieu'scompanion, was rushing towards me, an uplifted bar of iron in his handto strike. I eluded him, and, springing to the fireplace, seized apoker. I had quite forgotten my revolver. For a moment we fenced likeswordsmen with our curious weapons, speaking no word, but strikingheavily and warding, filling the place with the loud clang of steel. Heplayed so well that I could not reach his skull. But soon I rememberedhaving read in some old book of travel that a negro's vulnerable pointis his shin. Clenching my teeth I made a ferocious feint at his head.He riposted, as with a rapier, at my shoulder, but I disregardedutterly so poor a thrust, since his bar was blunt, and I brought myweapon down with a sweeping swish across his outstretched knee. Heuttered a wild shriek and, dropping his bar, sank to the floor, howlingdismally. Only then I remembered my pistol. Snatching it forth I heldit to his head. "Stop that noise, or die!" I muttered savagely. Heobeyed, but not for longer than a second was I permitted to remainmaster of the situation.
"Drop that pistol, villain," cried a voice from the doorway.
Two men had entered the room before I was aware of it, Dr. Vernet andDr. Fulton. Dr. Vernet wore a shortish nightgown, from beneath whichhis lean, attenuated shanks humorously twinkled. He seemed extremelyexcited, and he moved the weight of his body from one foot to the otherconstantly and very quickly. Dr. Fulton was attired in a suit ofpyjamas, and he too was excited, though he showed it lessreservelessly. Both men were armed with revolvers, which they pointedat my breast. Glancing down the muzzles of their weapons, I allowed myown to drop to the floor. It would have been madness to do otherwise.Strange to relate, at that instant, I became once more my own master.The malignant spirit of unreasoning hate, which had so far governed myconduct, of a sudden left me, and I was able to realize to the full themad folly into which it had driven me. My captors had only to hand meover to the police as an apprehended housebreaker--an attemptedassassin, and nothing that I might do could save me from a long term ofimprisonment. My very spine went cold at the idea. I looked hard at Dr.Fulton, and saw that he was on the point of recognizing me.
"Why, it's Brown, Dagmar's valet!"
I had an inspiration. "Better any fate," thought I, "than a Frenchprison."
"Detective Hume of Scotland Yard!" I cried. "Dr. Fulton, I arrest youin the King's name! Better put down that pistol, sir, your game is up.The street is full of my men. And if I do not go out to them in thenext few minutes they will come for me."
"Liar!" gasped a choking voice. Sir Charles Venner had spoken. He hadrecovered consciousness, and as he uttered the word he struggled to hisfeet.
"Liar yourself!" I retorted desperately. "If you don't believe me, lookout of the window."
I had a wild hope that the noise of my struggle with Beudant might haveattracted the attention of some chance wayfarers, whom my enemies mightperhaps mistake for police. Sir Charles caught up my revolver, co
ckedit leisurely, and pointed it to my head.
"Look out of the window, Fulton," he said quietly.
Dr. Fulton crossed the room and, drawing aside a corner of the curtain,peered through the shutter into the street below.
While I waited for Dr. Fulton's pronouncement, I had a moment of gracein which to think and pull myself together. The latter I effectedfairly well, but the knowledge of my recent madness obsessed my mind tothe exclusion of every other thought and filled my soul with bitterself-contempt. I felt that I did not deserve to escape.
Dr. Fulton presently let the curtain fall and turned to Sir Charles."There are four men standing on the pavement looking up at the topwindows," he announced.
Sir Charles Venner nodded, and for a few seconds stood blinking hiseyes in earnest thought.
"Beudant!" he cried at last.
"Monsieu!" replied the negro.
"Where is Jussieu?"
"He has not yet returned, monsieur."
"Ah, ha! I see! He has either betrayed us or been victimised.Beudant--a rope."
Beudant bowed and hurried from the room.
"What would you do?" demanded Dr. Vernet.
Sir Charles shrugged his shoulders and cocked his revolver. "We mustquit Paris, or die in the attempt," he replied. "Mr. Hume, if you wishto live, you will be silent. Fulton, look out of the windows again."
Dr. Fulton obeyed. "I can no longer see any one," he reported.
Sir Charles suppressed a curse. "They must be on the steps, perhapsentering," he muttered. "Ah, Beudant! Thank heaven! Bind him, Beudant.Wait, my friends."
Even while speaking he left the room. The negro passed a rope around myarms and in a trice I was secured. I was wondering keenly what nextwould happen, when of a sudden I heard a loud swishing, creaking sound,as though a crane were at work in the corridor without. The groaning ofwheels and chains was succeeded swiftly with a dull, muffled crash, anda second later Sir Charles returned.
"Dress quickly!" he cried to his friends. "We have not a minute tolose. I have settled some of them by springing the staircase trap, butthe street door is open, and there may be others."
He set the example himself by pulling on his clothes with extraordinaryrapidity. Vernet and Fulton darted off, and I was left in the care ofBeudant, the only one who was completely attired. If my arms had beenfree, I would have tried conclusions with the negro. As it was, Ihelplessly waited, gnawing my lip and silently cursing at my folly. Atthe end of a few minutes a bell began to tinkle in a distant portion ofthe house. Sir Charles Venner started at the sound, and paused for amoment, intently listening. The bell rang again. Sir Charles threw acloak across his shoulders and tip-toed to the door.
"Hola! within there," cried a raucous voice in French.
"All right!" shouted Sir Charles. "We'll be with you in a moment; wait!"
I smiled grimly. For I understood, while my enemy did not. Some passingpoliceman, observing the street door open, had rung the bell in orderto inform the household of its carelessness. Sir Charles Vernier,however, believed that one of my agents had called out to his_confreres_, who had already entered. A moment later Vernet and Fultonreappeared, dressed as though for a journey. Sir Charles then steppedbehind me and put his pistol to my ear. "Allons!" he muttered, "andtread softly, if you wish to live."
Obeying the guidance of a heavy hand that gripped my shoulder, Imarched from the room and began to climb the staircase towards thethird storey. The whole house was now wrapped in impenetrable darkness.My captors, however, appeared to know the way very well, and I wasforced without a pause along a maze of corridors, until we were broughtup by a wall. A match was cautiously struck, and we entered a smallunfurnished room, the door of which was locked behind us. In the middleof this apartment was a ladder that communicated with the roof. Beudantclimbed it with the agility of a monkey and raised a trap in theskylight, through which we all passed in quick succession. As I emergedand stood erect, I saw a sight I shall not easily forget--themagnificent panorama of sleeping Paris. And yet Paris did not seem tosleep. True, the night was dark, but in whatever direction I glanced, Iwas confronted with myriads of twinkling lamps that gleamed at me likeso many intelligent and baneful little eyes. I was given but littletime to digest the picture. Before the muzzle of Sir Charles Venner'srevolver I crossed a slightly sloping roof of lead, and stepped over aknee-high parapet of stone. Thence we traversed the tops of three otherhouses and came at length to a slightly lower edifice, which requiredsome care to reach. Beudant slipped over first, and I was bodily liftedup by Fulton and Venner and dropped into his arms. The roof perilouslysloped, and the journey filled me with tremors, for a mis-step meantsuch a destruction as is entailed by a fall of sixty feet upon a lineof iron-spiked railings. But death faced me on every side, so I set mylips and strode forward. By great good hap I negotiated the pass insafety, and came to a small, square ledge that was faced with an atticdoor, covered with a tiny gabled roof. A moment later we were allstanding in a long low ceiled chamber, into which we had been admittedby a hideous old beldame. This creature received us with chuckles ofsardonic satisfaction, and at once began to haggle with Sir CharlesVenner for a large sum of money which she claimed to be her due. Hetried to silence her by offering half the amount demanded, but sheindignantly declined and threatened to scream. He therefore yielded andgave her his purse. But while she counted the money he turned his back,and taking a phial from his pocket poured its contents on hishandkerchief. At a sign Beudant took the handkerchief, and, throwinghimself upon the old hag, pressed it tightly to her nostrils. Shestruggled like a fury, but the negro mastered her, and very soonafterwards she was lying insensible upon the floor. I was watching SirCharles wrest from her clenched hand his purse, when a terrible blow onmy skull deprived me of consciousness.
When I awoke I thought at first I must have died in my sleep and havebeen thrust into hell. Every fibre of my being was racked with pain.Darkness encompassed me. With every breath I drew I was sickened withnoxious odours, and I could not move a muscle. I tried to cry out, butcould not utter a sound. An iron wedge had been driven deep into mymouth. My limbs were bound, and I was tightly enclosed, in a doubled-upposition, in a square box. I lay upon my back and my knees were trussedup across my chest so that my chin almost touched them. I discoveredthese details slowly, one by one, and gradually awoke to the fact thatI was still alive. For a little while I was glad to know that, but withthe passing hours I prayed for death to end my tortures. Sometimes Iswooned. On awakening I invariably heard a monotonous rumbling soundthat was occasionally relieved by long, shrill screams. It occurred tome at last that I was being borne along upon a cart, the axles of whichbadly needed oiling. I had at first mistaken their screaming for thelamentations of lost souls. Thirst was my greatest agony. It alwaysincreased, while my other pains with time grew numb. Each time Ifainted I hailed the swoon as kindly coming death, and for a briefmoment I was happy. My recoveries were accursed periods of anguish. ButI think my trances of insensibility grew ever longer as my strengthwore out. However that may be, I began at length to dream, and I ceasedto be able to distinguish between sleeping and waking or even to feelmuch pain. Then all of a sudden I felt a rush of cool air on my brow,and I looked up into a sky full of stars. Water was dashed on my face.The gag was taken from my mouth and I was given to drink. Someoneclutched my arm and I shrieked aloud. I was forced, still shrieking, tomy feet, and dragged by those I could not see through a plantation oftall and stately pines. I swooned again. And once more I awoke to findmyself lying fully dressed, but free, upon a bed of down in a cool andpleasant room. It was morning. Through an open window near my couch Icould see a wilderness of distant tree tops, larches, pines, and firs,and more dimly between and above their branches a range of hillsbeyond. A slant bar of sunlight streamed into my chamber and, fallingon the floor a dozen feet away, marked out a golden pattern on thecarpet. Against the farther wall was a book-case filled with volumesand an escritoire. A comfortable lounge chair stood near the bed. I sawalso a
heavy mahogany clothes press that was furnished withmirror-backed doors. So totally unprepared was I to encounter so gentlean experience that I rubbed my eyes to make sure that I was not stilldreaming. The exercise obliged me to discover that my limbs werefrightfully stiff and cramped. I was not long content, however, toallow my curiosity to remain unsatisfied. By dint of a good deal ofexertion, and at the expense of many a sharp thrill of pain, I climbedfrom the bed and essayed to rise. After a few thoughts I succeeded, andthen feeling dizzy, I managed to totter to a chair. I had hardly satdown when the door opened and Sir Charles Venner stood before me.
"Good morning, Mr. Hume," said he, in quite a genial voice. "I am gladto find you so much better after your distressing journey here!"
"Are you?" I muttered stupidly. I was overcome with surprise at hiscurious change of manner.
"Indeed, yes," he replied, and he smiled. "Do you feel well enough forbreakfast?"
I nodded.
"Then permit me to assist you. Ah, good! Now take my arm."
He helped me, dumb with astonishment, out of the room and along apassage into a fine old dining-hall, that might have been part andparcel of some medieval chateau, so quaintly and elegantly was itfurnished.
I could afford it no more than a glance, however, for seated at tablethere were Dr. Fulton, Dr. Venner, and Marion Le Mar, now Lady Dagmar.
At the sight of the beautiful woman whom I had so passionately loved, Icried out loudly, and stood still. Her face was pale. She was attiredin deep mourning, and her eyes were resolutely downcast.
Sir Charles Venner uttered a low, cynical little laugh. "Quite ameeting of the clans!" he remarked. "But come, Hume, I am certain youare hungry."
Leaning heavily on his arm, I staggered to the table and sank into achair.
"Marion!" I gasped, looking at her straight and full.
Very slowly she raised her eyes, and returned my glance with a look ofcold disdain.
I thought her a thief and a traitress, and yet my eyes fell before hergaze.
"Will you try some oatmeal, Hume?" asked Sir Charles Venner, who hadtaken the head of the table.
"No, thank you."
"Then, some ham and eggs?"
"Please."
Beudant entered the room. "The grave is dug, master," he announced.
I looked at Sir Charles. He was biting his under lip, and curiouslyregarding me.
"Whose?" I demanded.
"Yours and Lady Dagmar's!" he replied with a sneer.
I looked at Marion. She was calmly eating her breakfast.
"This is some ghastly joke!" I cried.
Marion glanced up and smiled. "Say cynical, monsieur," she murmuredquietly. "My good friend, Sir Charles Venner, persists in believingthat we love each other--you and I--in spite of the fact that scarcelya month ago I deserted you in order to marry Sir William Dagmar."
"On his death-bed, madame!" cut in Sir Charles, in tones of ice. "Youforget that you are now a rich young widow."
"Well, sir?"
"And that you have steadily refused to account to me for his money,which should have been placed, long ere this, at the disposal of ourorder."
"Sir William Dagmar bound me with an oath as he lay dying----"
"You have told me that story before," interrupted Sir Charles. Marionshrugged her shoulders, and put into her mouth a morsel of bread.
"Go on someone!" I cried impatiently. "See! I am utterly in your power.Why not enlighten me? Surely you are not afraid!"
Beudant placed beside my plate a cup of coffee.
Sir Charles coughed behind his hand. "I am only afraid that yourappetite may be spoiled," he observed.
"Not at all," I retorted. "Watch me!" I began to eat, for in truth Iwas very hungry.
"We shall see," he rejoined. "You have a nerve, I know, but keep oneating while I talk--if you can!"
I nodded.
"Jussieu was released last evening by a friend of yours, a little mannamed Du Gazet, who induced the manager of your hotel to break intoyour room."
"Well?" I gasped.
Sir Charles laughed. "Jussieu is here," he said. "He arrived two hoursago, and we know now that you have no connection with the police. Wewere fools indeed to allow you to frighten us away from the RueD'Enghien. But then everything always happens for the best. We couldhardly have disposed of you properly in the city, unless we prosecutedyou for burglary, and such a course would not have suited me."
"Do you intend to kill me?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"After breakfast."
"In broad daylight?" I asked, much astonished.
"Ah! Mr. Hume," he replied, "I read your mind. But this chateau isplaced in a wood, and is distant seven miles from the nearest humanhabitation, and as for the rest I had as lief destroy an enemy by dayas by night."
"Then I have not long to live?"
"As one measures time."
"And--Mar--Lady Dagmar?"
"You will die together. In each other's arms, if you choose to beromantic."
I turned to Marion, to find her eyes fixed upon my face. We gazed ateach other for a long silent minute, and then, overcome by some strangeemotion, I muttered brokenly, "Is it possible, after all, that I havewronged you?"
"You have," she replied.
"Can you forgive me?" I asked hoarsely.
"It is late to make amends."
"I was mad to doubt you. But, God knows, I suffered for it, Marion."
"Venner!" said Dr. Fulton suddenly, "can I have a word with you?"
"Certainly. Vernet, Beudant, I leave our guests to you."
Sir Charles got up from the table and walked to the farther end of theroom.
"They will not kill you, Marion?" I asked in English. "Surely they arejesting."
"Yes--and no," she said. "Last night they forced me to make a willleaving them my money. They tortured me."
"How?" I gasped.
"They dragged me to the room where you lay bound and senseless. If Ihad refused to obey they would have cut you into pieces before my eyes."
"My God!" I cried. "And that broke your will. But I would have deservedit all for doubting you."
"Not quite," she answered, and she smiled in exceeding sadness.
"Marion, dear Marion," I whispered, "you love me still."
She looked up at me and her eyes filled with tears. "How could youtreat me so?" she muttered.
I felt the blood rush of a sudden through my veins, singing a veritablepoem of joy and triumph. We were both about to die, but Marion lovedme, and by that knowledge I was transformed on the instant from a weakhalf-broken creature into a life-loving and most desperate man. Iglanced quietly about me.
While Dr. Vernet ate his breakfast he watched me, but withoutmanifesting suspicion. Beudant stood behind his chair. Sir Charles andFulton were in earnest converse twenty paces off.
I thought to myself: "I may never get a better chance. Only a cowardwill permit himself to be slaughtered unresisting.
"Beudant," said I aloud, "will you be good enough to get me another cupof coffee."
The negro nodded, and started to come round the table.
"Dr. Vernet," I said as carelessly as possible, "may I trouble you forthe pepper-pot beside you?"
He bowed, and stretched out in order to render me the indicatedservice. In a flash I had caught his wrist in my left hand, and with myright I seized a heavy carafe of water and hurled it at his head. Nextsecond I leaped across the table, caught him in my arms, when, guidedby Vernet's own instinctive clutch to arm himself, I plunged my handinto his breast pocket and found a revolver.
I slipped to the floor and held the stunned and senseless body of Dr.Vernet before me as a shield. Sir Charles Venner and Dr. Fulton werealready advancing towards me with drawn pistols.
"Stop!" I shouted.
Sir Charles Venner answered me with his revolver. The bullet crashedinto Dr. Vernet's brain and I felt my face spattered with blood. Ifired in return, and Dr. Fulton, uttering a
frightful scream, pitchedheadlong on the floor.
It was a bad shot, for I had fired at Sir Charles Venner.
For a moment thereafter the latter stood still, and we stared into eachother's eyes across the trail of smoke. I became conscious that Dr.Vernet's dead body was too heavy for me to support longer. It wasslipping from my grasp, slipping, slipping. I realized that very soon Ishould be without my shield. As at last it fell, I fired, twice inquick succession. I heard an answering shot, then a woman's piercingscream. I fired again. The room was by then full of smoke; I could seenothing, but I heard someone rushing towards me shouting and cursing.For a fifth time I fired. There followed the sound of a fall, then adeep and dreadful silence. I waited with my revolver at full cock, notdaring to breathe, my every nerve on strain, listening and peeringvainly through the pall of smoke. Very slowly and gradually the whitemist lifted. At my feet the woman I loved was lying very still. Bloodwas welling in a rich crimson stream from a wound in her breast. Beyondher Sir Charles Venner lay face downwards on the floor. Both his armswere extended at full length, and at a few inches from his clenchedright hand was his revolver. Beudant and Dr. Fulton lay beside SirCharles Venner's body. All seemed dead. Oppressed with a wild andhideous sense of unreality, I stared stupidly before me. A smokewreath, growing transparent, showed me at length a living face. Jussieustood within the room, a black statue of horror. Scarcely conscious ofwhat I did, I raised my pistol and pointed it at his breast. He did notmove. I fired and he fell.
At the sound Marion's eyes opened. She looked up at me. I uttered a cryof agony and, throwing away my smoking weapon, I sank on my kneesbeside her.
"Are you hurt?" she breathed.
"No--no--but you--you are wounded--you are dying," I wailed.
"Jussieu stood within the room, a black statue ofhorror."
_First Person Paramount_] [_Page 318_]
She gave me a most wonderful and tender smile. "For you," she gasped."To save you! He would have killed you--but his bullet is--here." Witha great effort she raised one hand and caught at her breast.
"Oh, God! oh, God!" I groaned. "Marion, you will not die and leave me!Tell me what to do."
"Kiss me," she whispered.
But even as I stooped to obey, her spirit fled, and I kissed the lipsof a corpse. No other kiss shall my lips know while I have life.
At the fall of noon I carried her from the house of death and buriedher in the grave which Sir Charles Venner had destined for us both. Itwas in the middle of a pine forest, and perhaps that is why the saddestsound on earth to my ears is still the sighing of pines. I left thebodies of my enemies where they had fallen--accursed carrion! I wouldnot have touched them if I could. They were not discovered until morethan a week had passed, and by then I was a thousand miles away, adesolate and broken-hearted wanderer on the face of the universe. Manyyears have passed and I am now a millionaire, accounted by the world ahard-headed, flinty-hearted financial magnate, and also something of amisogynist. But I have recorded these chapters of my history to showthose who come after me, when I am dead, that, rascal as I was, andabandonedly selfish, I was yet capable of passion and of constancy, andthat no deep-seated hatred of the softer sex has inspired theinvincible solitariness of my life.
FINIS.