CHAPTER XXXIII.
THROUGH THE AIR.
At these last words Andre turned round, but the door closed, and heheard the key grate in the lock. He passed through the outer office,where the superintendent, his two clerks, and his late adversary allseemed to gaze upon him with a glance of admiration and esteem.
He gained the open street.
What did those last words of Lecoq mean? He was a foundling, it is true;but what foundling has not had lofty aspirations, and felt that, for allhe knew, he might be the scion of some noble house.
As soon as Lecoq thought that the coast was clear, he opened the door,and called the agent, Palot.
"My lad," said the great man, "you saw that young man who went out justnow? He is a noble fellow, full of good feeling and honor. I look uponhim as my friend."
Palot made a gesture signifying that henceforth his late antagonist wasas something sacred in his eyes.
"You will be his shadow," pursued Lecoq, "and keep near enough to him torush to his aid at a moment of danger. That gang, of which Mascarin isthe head, want his life. You are my right-hand man, and I trust him toyou. I have warned him, but youth is rash; and you will scent dangerwhere he would never dream that it lurked. If there is any peril, dashboldly forward, but endeavor to let no one find out who you are. If youmust speak to him--but only do so at the last extremity--whisper my namein his ear, and he will know you have come from me. Remember, you areanswerable for him; but change your face. La Candele and the others mustnot recognize in you the wine-shop bully; that would spoil all. Whathave you on under that blouse, a _commissionaire's_ dress?
"That will do; now change the face."
Palot pulled out a small parcel from his pocket, from which he extracteda red beard and wig, and, going to the mirror, adjusted them withdexterous activity; and, in a few minutes, went up to his master, whowas waiting, saying,--
"How will this do?"
"Not bad, not bad," returned Lecoq; "and now to your work."
"Where shall I find him?" asked Palot.
"Somewhere near Mascarin's den, for I advised him not to give up playingthe spy too suddenly."
Palot was off like the wind, and when he reached the Rue Montmartre, hecaught sight of the person who had been intrusted to his care.
Andre was walking slowly along, thinking of Lecoq's cautions, when ayoung man, with his arm in a sling, overtook him, going in the samedirection as he was. Andre was sure that it was Paul, and as he knewthat he could not be recognized, he passed him in his turn, and saw thatit was indeed the Paul so much regretted by Zora.
"I will find out where he goes to," thought Andre.
He followed, and saw him enter the house of M. Rigal. Two women weregossiping near the door, and Andre heard one of them say,--
"That is the young fellow who is going to marry Flavia, the banker'sdaughter."
Paul, therefore, was to marry the daughter of the chief of the gang.Should he tell Lecoq this? But, of course, the detective knew it.
Time was passing, and Andre felt that he had but little space to gainthe house that Gandelu was building in the Champs Elysees, if he wishedto ask hospitality from his friend Vignol.
He found all the workmen there, and not one of them recognized him whenhe asked for Vignol.
"He is engaged up there," said one. "Take the staircase to the left."
The chief part of the ornamental work was in front, and it was therethat the little hut which Tantaine had pointed out to Toto Chupin waserected. Vignol was in it, and was utterly surprised when Andre madehimself known, for he did not recognize him under his strange disguise.
"It is nothing," returned the young man cautiously, as Vignol paused foran explanation; "only a little love affair."
"Do you expect to win a girl's heart by making such a guy of yourself?"asked his friend with a laugh.
"Hush! I will explain matters later on. Can you give me shelter for anight or two?"
He stopped himself, turned terribly pale, and listened intently. Hefancied he had heard a woman's scream, and his own name uttered.
"Andre, it is I--your Sabine; help!"
Quick as lightning Andre rushed to the window, opened it, and leaned outto discover from whence those sounds came.
The young miscreant, Toto Chupin, had too fatally earned the note withwhich Tantaine had bribed him. The whole of the front of the window gaveway with a loud crash, and Andre was hurled into space.
The hut was at least sixty feet from the pavement, and the fall was themore appalling because the body of Andre struck some of the interveningscaffolding first, and thence bounced off, until the unhappy young manfell with a dull thud, bleeding and senseless in the street.
Nearly three hundred persons in the Champs Elysees witnessed thishideous sight; for, at Vignol's cry, every one had stopped, and, frozenwith horror, had not missed one detail of the grim tragedy.
In an instant a crowd was collected round the poor, inert mass ofhumanity which lay motionless in a pool of blood. But two workmen,roused by Vignol's shrieks, were soon on the spot, and pushed their waythrough the crowd of persons who were gazing with a morbid curiosity onthe man who had fallen from a height of sixty feet.
Andre gave no sign of life. His face was dreadfully bruised, his eyeswere closed, and a stream of blood poured from his mouth, as Vignolraised his friend's head upon his knee.
"He is dead!" cried the lookers on. "No one could survive such a fall."
"Let us take him to the Hospital Beaujon!" exclaimed Vignol. "We areclose by there."
An ambulance was speedily procured, and the workmen, placing theirinsensible friend carefully in it, asked permission to carry him to thehospital.
One curious event had excited the attention of some of the lookers on.Just as Andre fell, a _commissaire_ had rushed forward and seized awoman. She was one of the class of unfortunates who frequent the ChampsElysees, and she it was who had uttered the cry that had lured Andre todestruction. The woman made an effort to escape, but Palot, for it washe, caught her arm.
"Not a word," said he sternly. The wretched creature seemed in abjectterror, and obeyed him.
"Why did you cry out?" asked he.
"I do not know."
"It is a lie!"
"No, it is true; a gentleman came up to me, and said, 'Madame, if youwill cry out now, Andre, it is I--your Sabine; help! I will give you twolouis.' Of course I agreed. He gave me the fifty francs, and I did as heasked me."
"What was this man like?"
"He was tall, old, and very shabby and dirty, with glasses on. I neverset eyes on him before."
"Do you know," returned the _commissaire_ sternly, "that the wordsyou have uttered have caused the death of the poor fellow who has justfallen from the house?"
"Why did he not take more care?" asked she indifferently.
Palot, with an angry gesture, handed her over to a police-constable.
"Take her to the station-house," said he, "and do not lose sight of her,for she will be a most important witness at a trial that must soon comeon."
"What the woman says is true," muttered Palot. "She did not know whatshe was doing, and it was Tantaine that gave her the two coins. He shallpay for this; but certainly, if the whole gang are collared, it won'tbring the poor young fellow to life."
He had, however, not much time for reflection, for he had to gather upevery link of evidence. How was it that this accident had occurred? Theframe of the window had fallen out with Andre, and lay in fragments onthe pavement. He picked up one of the pieces, and at once saw what hadbeen done; the woodwork had been sawed almost in two, and the putty withwhich the marks of the cuts had been concealed still clung to the wood.Palot called one of the workmen, who appeared to be more intelligentthan his fellows, pointed out the marks to him, and bade him gather upthe fragments and put them in some place of security. This duty beingaccomplished, Palot joined the crowd; but he was too late, for Andre hadbeen taken away to the hospital. He looked around to see if there wasany on
e from whom he could gain information, and suddenly perceived on abench some one whom he had often followed. It was Toto Chupin, nolonger clad in the squalid rags of a day or two back. He was dressed ingorgeous array, but his face was livid, his eyes wild, and his lips keptmoving convulsively, for he was a victim to a novel sensation--the pangsof remorse--and was meditating whether he should not go to the nearestpolice-station and give himself up, so that he might revenge himselfon Tantaine, who had made him a murderer. For a moment the idea ofarresting Toto passed through Palot's mind, but he, after a moment'sthought, muttered,--
"No; that would never do. We should risk losing the whole gang. Besides,he can't get away. I may even have committed an error in arresting thatwoman. My master will say that I am not to be trusted. He placed one ofhis friends in my charge, and this is what has happened. I knew that theyoung man's life was in deadly peril, and yet I let him enter a housein the course of erection; why, I might as well have cut his throatmyself."
In a terrible state of anxiety, Palot presented himself at the hospital,and asked for the young man who had just been brought in.
"You mean Number 17?" returned one of the assistant-surgeons. "He is ina most critical state; we fear internal injuries, fracture of the skull,and--in fact, we fear everything."
It was two days before Andre recovered consciousness. It was midnightwhen he first woke again to the realities of life. At a glance heguessed where he was. He felt pain when he endeavored to turn over, buthe could move his legs and one arm.
"How long have I been here, I wonder?" he thought.
He tried to think, but he was weak, and thoughts would not come at hiscommand, and in a few seconds he dropped off to sleep again; and whenhe awoke, it was broad day; the ward was full of life and motion, forit was the hour of the house surgeon's visit. He was a young man still,with a cheerful face, followed by the band of students. He went from bedto bed, explaining cases, and cheering up the sufferers. When Andre'sturn came, the surgeon told him that his shoulder was put out, his armbroken in two places, a bad cut on his head, while his body was one massof bruises; but, for all that, he was in luck to have got off so easily.Andre listened to him with but a vague understanding of his meaning,for, with the return of reason, the remembrance of Sabine had come, andhe asked himself what would become of her while he was confined to hisbed in the hospital. As this thought passed through his mind, he uttereda faint groan. One of the students, a stout person, with red whiskers, awhite tie, and a rather shabby hat, who looked as if he had just arrivedfrom the country, stepped up to his bed, and leaning over the patient,murmured, "Lecoq." Andre opened his eyes wide at the name.
"M. Lecoq," gasped he, wondering at the excellence of the disguise.
"Hush, who knows who is watching us? I come to give your mind ease,which will do you more good than all the doctor's stuff. Without in anyway committing you, I have seen M. de Mussidan, and have furnished himwith a valid excuse for postponing his daughter's marriage for anothermonth. You must remain here; you could not be in a place of greatersecurity; but even here you cannot be too cautious. Eat nothing that isno given you by some one who utters the word 'Lecoq.' M. Gandelu willcertainly call to see you. If you want to see or write to me, thepatient on your right will manage that; he is one of my men. You shallhave news every day; but be patient and prudent."
"I can wait now," answered the young man, "because I have hope."
"Ah," murmured Lecoq, as he moved softly away, "is not hope the truesecret of life and happiness?"