The solution of the riddle is given for the first time, and once and for all, in the following narrative. It is for the reader to say whether he could imagine anything more unexpected and more strange.
CHAPTER II
A JOURNEY OF INVESTIGATION
At the time Konakry, though the capital of French Guinea and the Residency of the Governor-General, was little more than a hamlet.
On the 27th November that hamlet was holding a fete. Responding to the Governor's pressing invitation, the whole population was going seawards to give a warm welcome to some important travellers who had just disembarked.
Certainly they were important enough. Seven in all, they formed the higher staff of the Extra-Parliamentary Commission instructed by the Central Administration of France to carry out a journey of investigation into the part of the French Sudan known as the Niger Bend. To tell the truth, it was not quite of their own volition that the President of the Council and the Minister for the Colonies had sent out that Mission and ordered that investigation. They had so to speak been compelled to do so by the insistence of the Chambre des Deputes and by the need to close an oratorical tournament which did nothing but hold up business.
Several months previously, as the outcome of a debate on that part of Africa which the Mission was ordered to explore, the Chamber had been split into two equal halves, led into the combat by two irreconcilable leaders. One was called Barsac, the other Baudrieres.
The first was plump, not to say tubby, wearing a luxurious black beard like a fan. He was a Meridional from Provence, fond of resounding words and gifted if not with eloquence at any rate with a certain fluency, but a cheerful and sympathetic fellow at heart.
The second represented one of the Departments of the North, and (if so bold an expression be allowed) he represented it also in appearance. Lean in face and body, a scanty drooping moustache ornamenting his thin lips, awkward and dogmatic, he was one of nature's pessimists. While his colleague seemed to expand generously, he seemed to be folded in upon himself, locking up his soul like a miser's strongbox.
Deputies of long standing, they both specialized in colonial problems, and were regarded as authorities upon such matters. Yet it seemed marvellous how their patient studies led them to such opposite conclusions. For the fact is that they very seldom agreed. Whatever point it was that Barsac raised, you could bet ten to one that Baudrieres would demand to be heard simply in order to say just the opposite. As their speeches cancelled out, the Chamber was usually driven to the recourse of voting in the sense indicated by the Minister.
But this time neither Barsac nor Baudrieres had been willing to yield an inch and the dispute threatened to go on for ever. It had begun on the subject of a law proposed by the former, to create five deputies seats in Senegal, Gambia, Upper Guinea, and the part of the French Soudan situated west of the Niger, and to extend the vote, granted their eligibility, to the coloured peoples without distinction of race. At once, following his usual practice, Baudrieres has risen energetically to oppose Barsac's suggestion, and the two adversaries had bombarded each other's heads with a barrage of arguments.
The one, citing the authority of many civil and military travellers familiar with the region, declared that the Negroes had risen to a high degree of civilization. He added that it availed little to have suppressed slavery unless the subject peoples were given the same rights as their masters, and, in a series of perorations which the Chambre applauded vociferously, he pronounced the mighty words "liberie, egalite, et fraternite."
His adversary affirmed, on the other hand, that the Negroes still wallowed in the most shameful savagery, and that there could be no more a question of consulting them than anyone consults a sick child about his medicine. He added that this was not the time to attempt so dangerous an experiment, and that it would be better to reinforce the army of occupation in those countries, as there were disquieting signs that trouble was brewing. He invoked as many civil and military opinions as his opponent, forecast further armed interventions in the region, and declared with a burst of patriotic energy that lands won by French blood were forever sacred and inviolable. He too was applauded frantically.
The Colonial Minister was hard put to it to decide between them. He saw truth in both standpoints. While the coloured races living in and near the Niger Bend were getting accustomed to French rule, while education was making headway among peoples hitherto plunged in ignorance, and while security was rapidly advancing, it was equally true that at the moment the situation was changing unfavourably. News was coming in of disturbances and raids; whole villages had, for reasons unknown, been abandoned by their inhabitants. There were even vague rumours, which could not be ignored, that some independent power was being set up at some point unknown on African soil.
Each of the two orators found the Minister's arguments so favourable to himself that they crowed over one another, and the discussion proceeded until one of the excited Deputies shouted in the midst of the uproar:
"As they can't agree, they'd better go and find out!"
The Minister replied that the region had been so often explored that there was no need to discover it anew, but none the less he was prepared to take the opinion of the Chamber. If they thought a journey of investigation would be worth while, he would gladly associate himself with it and would place the Expedition under the leadership of whichever of its members they cared to nominate.
This proposal was quite successful. The session was closed, and the Minister was invited to constitute a Mission to traverse the region included in the Niger Bend and to prepare a report on which the Chamber might come to a decision.
It was not so easy to agree when it came to nominating the Deputy who was to lead the Mission, and on a double count the number of votes for Barsac and Baudrieres were exactly equal.
However, the matter had to be settled.
"Parbleu! Let's nominate both of them!" exclaimed one of those humourists never lacking in an assembly of Frenchmen.
This idea was welcomed enthusiastically by the Chamber, whose members no doubt saw that it was one way of not hearing any more talk about the Colonies for several months. Barsac and Baudrieres were accordingly elected, the question of supreme authority being settled by their respective ages. These having been ascertained, the privilege fell to Barsac, who was the elder by three days, and Baudrieres had to resign himself, to his extreme disgust, to being nothing but a subordinate.
To this nucleus of a Mission the Government had added several other personalities, less colourful indeed but perhaps better qualified.
Among these was Dr. Chatonnay, a well known doctor, he was quite competent, and his cheerful face, more than five feet eight inches from the ground, was surmounted with curly hair as white as snow (though he was hardly fifty years old) and crossed by a bristly moustache of the same colour. He was a fine man, that Doctor Chatonnay, intelligent and lighthearted, continually laughing with a noise like escaping steam.
Equally noticeable was M. Isidore Tassin, correspondent of the Geographical Society, a little dry peremptory man, passionately and exclusively devoted to his subject. As for the other members of the Mission, Mm. Poncin, Quirieu, and Heyieux, employed by various Ministries, hardly anyone would have noticed them. Without pronounced individuality, they were just as much people as anybody else.
Around this official core, an eighth traveller moved very officiously. He was called Amedee Florence, and his task was to keep in touch to the best of his ability with the great daily paper, L'Expansion Francaise, of which he was an active and lucid reporter.
The arrival of these personages was bound to evoke oratory. Anyone who takes part in administration or government is not going to be content, when he meets anybody, with a shake of the hand and a "Good morning!"; he considers it essential to say something for the benefit of history. Meanwhile his audience, invariably amused, often though they have encountered it before, by the absurdity of such a formality, form a circle around the orators.
> Complying with protocol, the Governor, M. Valdonne, accompanied by his chief officials whom he took care to introduce, solemnly bade welcome to these important visitors when they arrived, if not from Heaven at any rate from beyond the ocean. Nevertheless, to do him justice, he was brief and his short harangue won the success it deserved.
Barsac, in replying as chief of the mission, uttered the following words:
"Monsieur le Governeur, Messieurs," he began in accents of gratitude—and of the Midi!—after having coughed to clear his throat, "my colleagues and I are profoundly moved by the words we have just heard. We regard the cordiality of your welcome as a favourable augury, at the moment when we are about to begin an enterprise whose difficulties cannot be exaggerated. We know that, under the generous administration of their government, these regions, formerly explored in the midst of so many perils by the hardy pioneers of la patrie, at last know the Peace of France, if I may use this somewhat pompous expression borrowed from our Roman ancestors.
"That is why, here, on the threshold of this magnificent town of Konakry, surrounded by the serried ranks of our compatriots, we feel as if we had never left France. That is why, when making our way into the interior, we shall not be leaving it even then, for the toiling multitudes of these countries have already become the citizens of an enlarged and extended France. May our presence in their midst give them the proof of the watchful care of the public administration! May it still more increase, if this be possible, their attachment to la patrie, their devotion to the Republic!"
M. le Governeur Valdonne then gave the usual signal for "spontaneous" applause, while Barsac stepped backwards and Baudrieres came to the front.
As a result of endless consultations in the Minister's office, it had been decided that Baudrieres should be not the assistant leader but the associate leader of the expedition. Mysterious power of words!—the result seemed to be that if Barsac took the lead at an official ceremony, Baudrieres came immediately after him. Thus was solved the ticklish question of precedence.
"Monsieur le Governeur, Messieurs," Baudrieres commenced, thus cutting short the applause evoked by the peroration of his predecessor, "I associate myself completely with the eloquent words of my eminent colleague and friend. As he has explained, each of us must state exactly the difficulties and dangers which our expedition may meet. For the difficulties, we shall do our best to overcome them ourselves. As to the dangers, they will not dismay us, because between them and ourselves are interposed the bayonets of France.
"You must therefore allow me to give, as we first set foot on African soil, a heartfelt salute to the escort which will keep at bay the possibility of danger. Gentlemen, in saluting that small escort, it is to the Army—for is not the Army there in the person of the humblest trooper we meet?-it is to the Army, I say, that I address my greeting. It is the Army, then, so dear to every French heart, which participates in our work, and it is through them that this obscure undertaking will increase, as has so often been done by the glorious adventures to which they are accustomed, the prestige of our country and the glory of our Republic!"
Again there came a burst of applause, as much stimulated and as much spontaneous as the other; then the assembly moved on to the Residency, where the leading members of the Mission were to be accommodated for the three days devoted to settling the final details of their programme.
That programme was vast. The region involved in the Barsac's proposed law exceeded 1,000,000 square miles. If there could be no question of visiting the whole of this immense expanse, about three times the size of France, at least a route had been worked out complicated enough to give the impression that its results had some chance of conforming to the truth. Indeed, that route would cover more than 1,500 miles for some members of the Mission and nearly 2,500 for the others.
The expedition would in fact have to split up during the journey so as to extend as far as possible the course of the enquiry. On leaving Konakry, the Mission would first proceed to Kankan. Thence it would continue as far as Sikasso, the largest town in the Kenedougou.
It would be here, about seven hundred and fifty miles from the sea, that the expedition would divide. One half, under the leadership of Baudrieres, would return southwards and at last reach the Ivory Coast. The other section would continue eastwards under Barsac and reach the Niger at Saye; then, marching parallel to the river, it would attain its objective on the Dahomey coast. Because unavoidable delays and detours might prolong the journeys, it would not be until August that Baudrieres would arrive at Grand-Bassam, or until October that Barsac would arrive at Kotonou.
Thus it was a question of a long journey, but M. Isidore Tassin could not flatter himself that it would allow him to establish any important geographical fact as yet unknown. To tell the truth, the presence of a corresponding member of the Geographical Society had not been accounted for, the task of discovering the Niger Bend being about as hopeful as that of discovering America. But M. Tassin was not greedy. The globe having been traversed in every direction, he knew that he would have to content himself with very little.
He was well advised in limiting his ambitions. The Niger Bend had long since ceased to be the inaccessible and mysterious region which it had once been. Indeed, the Western Sudan no longer merited the term "wild"; conquest had given place to administration—its centres were becoming more numerous, assuring more and more completely the benevolent domination of France.
Even now, when the extra-parliamentary Mission was going to traverse these regions, their pacification was not yet completed. Security was already so great, however, that there were hopes that the journey would be accomplished, if not without incident, at any rate without accident, and that it would become a walk among these peaceable peoples whom Barsac thought ripe to taste the joys of electoral politics.
The start was fixed for 1st December.
The previous night an official dinner was going to unite for the last time the members of the Mission at the Governor's table. At the end of the dinner toasts would be exchanged, as is the custom, to the obligatory accompaniment of the National Anthem, and the last wishes would be given for the success of the expedition and the glory of the Republic.
That day Barsac, tired of having wandered about in Konakry under a blazing sun, had just gone back to his room. He was fanning himself with relief, waiting for the hour at which he could take off his black coat (which whatever the temperature no official personage may dispense with during working hours) when the orderly, a man re-engaged from the colonial service who "knew all its little ways" came to tell him that two people were asking for him.
"Who are they?" asked Barsac.
"A type and his lady," was all the fellow said.
"Colonials?"
"I shouldn't think so, to judge by the look of them," the orderly replied. "The man's tall, with not much lawn on his pebble."
"His pebble?"
"He's bald! Tow-coloured whiskers and eyes like the knob of a staircase."
"You've got an imagination!" said Barsac. "And the lady?"
"The lady?"
"Yes. What's she like? Young?"
"Fairly."
"Pretty?"
"Yes and stylish!"
Barsac absent-mindedly stroked his moustache and said, "Show them in." While giving that order, he threw a glance, almost unconsciously, at the mirror which reflected his corpulent figure. Though he had not noticed it the clock was striking six, the exact hour (allowing for the difference of longitude) at which began the famous raid on the Central Bank.
The visitors, a man about forty years old followed by a girl of twenty to twenty-five, were shown into the room where Barsac was bracing himself for the fatigues of an official dinner by tasting the charms of indolence.
The new-comer was indeed very tall. A pair of endless legs supported a body relatively skimpy, topped by a long bony neck, the base of a long narrow head. If his eyes did not resemble the knob of a staircase, as the orderly had suggested in a most outr
ageous comparison, nobody could deny that they bulged, nor that his nose was large, nor that his lips were thick and hairless, a razor having pitilessly suppressed his moustache.
On the other hand whiskers, like those commonly attributed to the Austrians, and a crown of curly hair surrounding the base of a skull marvellously bare and polished, showed that the orderly was not very precise in his choice of his adjectives. "Tow-coloured," he had said. The word was not exact. Indeed, this personage was ginger.
Yet, ungainly as it was, his ugliness was appealing. His mouth suggested candour, and in his eyes there shone that sardonic goodness to which the French give the charming name of bonhomie.
Behind him came the young lady. Certainly the orderly, in calling her pretty, had not exaggerated. Tall, slight, with a shapely figure, her mouth red and well-shaped, her nose shapely, her eyes large and surmounted by admirably curved eyebrows, her hair abundant and as black as ink, she was really beautiful and faultlessly turned out.
When Barsac had offered chairs to his visitors, it was the man who began to speak.
"You will pardon us, Monsieur le Depute for coming to ask your help, and as there is nobody else to introduce us, you will excuse us if we do it ourselves. I'm called, you will allow me to add, for my name is absurd—I'm sorry to say I'm called Agenor de Saint-Berain, land-owner, bachelor, and citizen of the town of Rennes."
Having thus explained his status, Agenor de Saint-Berain made a slight pause; then, eking out his words with a gesture, he introduced:
"Miss Jane Mornay, my aunt."
"Your aunt?" repeated Barsac.