The Transgression of Andrew Vane: A Novel

by Guy Wetmore Carryl

  CHAPTER VI.

  A REVOLT SUPPRESSED.

  "I've passed the window every day for a week," continued Monsieur JulesVicot, "because I hardly thought you were in earnest in your threat tothrow me over, and when I saw the jar there again, this morning, I foundI was quite right. You'd thought better of it--eh? You wanted to see me.It's just as well, perhaps--for both of us."

  There was a suggestion of defiance in his tone which contrastedcuriously with the tremor of his hand, as he lit a cigarette.

  "I might have taken the liberty of calling on one of your Thursdays,without any summons," he added, as Radwalader made no reply. As hespoke, he glanced up, met the other's steady eyes, and immediatelylooked away again.

  "It doesn't do to push a partner too far," he concluded, with the hintof a whine.

  There was a long pause, which was evidently extremely disconcerting toMonsieur Vicot. He removed his cigarette from his lips several times,and as often replaced it, his hand trembling violently. Radwalader nevertook his eyes from him, but sat, smiling slightly, with his elbowresting on the arm of his chair, and his hand raised and open. There wasnot a quiver in his fingers, a fact which was duly noted, as it wasintended to be, by his companion.

  "Have you lost your tongue?" demanded the latter presently, withmanifest irritation.

  "Oh, by no means, my excellent Jules," answered Radwalader, easily. "Iwas simply reflecting how I might submit a few facts for yourconsideration in a manner which would render a repetition of thecommunication unnecessary. There seems to be some misunderstanding. Ithink I'm not slow to appreciate another's meaning. I make bold tosuppose that you desire to intimidate me?"

  Monsieur Vicot fidgeted uneasily, discarded his cigarette, lit another,shrugged his shoulders, and gripped the arms of his chair.

  "I think it's time we understood each other," resumed Radwalader, stillsmiling. "It's long since we spoke of certain things--trivialities,maybe, such as forgery, theft, and blackmail--"

  "As to blackmail--" put in the other, with an attempt at bravado.

  "Exactly," agreed Radwalader. "You're about to say that we're in thesame boat. So we are, but not--to quote the old epigram--but not withthe same skulls. I'm not a fool, my good Jules. You are. I walk in thebed of running streams, you in fresh-fallen snow. The inference isplain. My hold upon you is in black and white, and deposited, as youknow, in my safe-deposit vault at the bank. It's as comforting as aninsurance policy. In case of my sudden disappearance--"

  "Oh, chuck it!" said Vicot.

  "Whereas your hold upon me," swerved off Radwalader pleasantly, "also asyou know, is as substantial as the cigarette-ash you've just flickedupon my carpet."

  "Chuck that, too," put in Vicot, sullenly. "What's the use of all thistalk? You've the whip-hand, Radwalader, and you know it."

  "_Then remember it, by God!_" exclaimed the other. His assumption ofsmiling pleasantly was gone like a wisp of smoke. He had risen suddenly,and, with his fist clenched on the table-edge, was leaning over hiscompanion as if he would crush him by the very force of his personality.His steel-blue eyes had hardened, and at the corners of his lips hovereda sneering smirk which suggested a panther.

  "Then remember it," he reiterated, "and remember it for all time! What Isay, I say once. After that--I act. You snivelling drunkard! Youwretched, nerve-racked lump of bluff! _You_ threaten _me_? Did yousuppose I'd forgotten that I could have sent you to the galleys fiveyears ago, just because I haven't mentioned the fact since then? Do youimagine I can't send you there now? Do you think I'd hesitate for a winkabout throwing you overboard, body and soul, if I didn't find youuseful? Do you fancy I'm _afraid_ of you? God! What a maggot it is!Look at those hands, you whelp! I've seen you grovel, and I've heard youwhine, and what a man will do once he'll do again under like conditions.It's too late for you to pit your will against mine, my friend! You gaveyourself away five years ago, when first I put on the thumbscrews, and Iknow at just which turn of them you're going to whimper again!"

  To all appearance, the white heat of Radwalader's passion was gone assuddenly as it had come. With the last words, his face resumed itsnormal expression of placidity, and, before he continued, he began topace slowly up and down the room, with his thumbs in the pockets of histrousers. Vicot had made no motion, save, at the other's contemptuousreference to his hands, to fold his arms. Now he sank a little fartherinto his chair, and, under lowered lids, his eyes slid to and fro,following his companion's march.

  "If you didn't understand the situation before," resumed Radwalader,"it's probable that you do now. As it happens, I don't fear God, man, ordevil; but even if I were as timid as a rabbit, I wouldn't fear _you_!You're a convenience, that's all--an instrument to do that part of mywork which is a trifle too dirty for a gentleman's hands. So long as youdo it to my satisfaction, I see fit to pay you, and pay you well; andyou're free to drink like the swine you are, and go to the devil yourown way. But the indispensable man doesn't exist, my good Jules, and themoment you kick over the traces, out you go! I discarded you last monthbecause I don't like people who listen at doors, even if I'm not foolenough to give them an opportunity of hearing anything. If I've chosento call for you again, it's simply that I've work for you, and assuredlynot because I'm in any fear of consequences. Pray get that into yourhead as speedily, and keep it there as long, as possible. There areplenty of others to take your place. As for partners, you're as muchmine as the coyote is the wolf's, and no more. So you've said enough on_that_ point."

  "What's the job?" put in Vicot, as the other paused.

  "If you haven't forgotten certain things in the past few weeks, you knowwhat it means when I sit close to one man and talk only to him wheneveryou're in the room."

  "Never to forget his face," answered Vicot, as if responding to aquestion in the catechism. "Is it another game of shadow?"

  "To an extent, yes. But it will be more in the open than usual. Youwon't have to skulk. Do you think you can accustom yourself to thechange?"

  "Get on!" said Vicot impatiently. "I suppose it's the young chap?"

  "Yes. He's to take Remson Peake's apartment, in all probability--or someother. And you, my excellent Jules, are to be his _valet de chambre_."

  "Humph!" commented the other, without any evidence of surprise. "And thepay?"

  "What's usual from him, I suppose," said Radwalader, "and from medouble."

  "Say three hundred francs a month, all told?"

  "About that."

  Radwalader seated himself again, and, leaning forward, continued moreearnestly, making a little church and steeple of his linked fingers.

  "First, visitors--their names, or, if not that, their appearance, asaccurately as possible. Next, letters--both incoming andoutgoing--particularly the latter. Steam them, and take copies wheneverit seems best. Keep an eye especially on anything relating to--well, towomen in general. If any come to the apartment, make good use of yourremarkable faculty for eavesdropping, which was so lamentably misappliedhere. Keep your hands off his tobacco and wine. Be respectful. Get himto talk as much as possible, and remember what he says. Stay sober--ifyou can. And report to me immediately if anything important turns up."

  "When do I begin?"

  "I can't tell. In a few days, probably. I'll let you know."

  Vicot rose slowly.

  "What a blackguard you are, Radwalader!" he said, almost admiringly.

  "That's not the greatest compliment I've known you to pay me," drawledRadwalader. "Imitation is the sincerest flattery."

  The other poured himself another half-glass of whiskey, set it on thetable-edge, and stood looking down at it.

  "And I was once a gentleman!" he said.

  "Oh, don't get maudlin," answered Radwalader. "We were all of ussomething unprofitable once. The main fact, by your own confession, isthat, as a gentleman, you couldn't make enough to keep body and soultogether; and that, as a scalawag, you can turn over three hundredfrancs a month. The world is full of gentlemen. They're a drug on themarket. Bu
t accomplished scoundrels are rare, my good Vicot."

  "You'll have a deal to answer for one of these days, Radwalader."

  Radwalader shrugged his shoulders.

  "One never has to answer so long as there are no questions asked," hesaid flippantly. "You'd better take your tipple and go home. Preachingdoesn't become you in the least degree."

  "I want to know," said Vicot slowly, taking up his glass, "what you meanto do. I've pulled many a chestnut out of the fire for you, Radwalader,and if I haven't burned my fingers in doing it, I've soiled them enough,God knows. You haven't any scruple about calling me names, and I takeyour insults because I'd starve to death if I didn't. But I've aconscience, and it cuts me, now and again."

  "Bank-notes make good court-plaster," observed Radwalader.

  "Yes, but there are some things which I've done that I won't do again. Idon't want to be mixed up in another affair like that of young Baxter.Do you ever think of that morning at the Morgue?"

  "I wasn't made to look backward," said Radwalader. "Providence put myeyes in the front of my head, and I know how to take a hint."

  "Well, _I_ think of it--often," said Vicot, with something like ashudder. "He repaid me in my own coin, that boy. If I shadowed him inhis life, he shadows me in his death. Even brandy doesn't blot him outof my mind. When I shut my eyes at night, I can see him, sitting in thatghastly chair, with his face, all purple, looking through the cloudyglass--as truly murdered by us who stood looking at him, as if we hadpitched him into the lake at Auteuil with our own hands!"

  "Oh, rot!" exclaimed Radwalader. "You know what that means, don't you?Other men see centipedes and blue rats: you see Baxter, that's all. Cutoff the liquor, and you won't know there ever was such a thing as aMorgue. Baxter was a silly ass. He tried to do things with ten thousandfrancs that a sane man wouldn't attempt with a hundred. I let him go hispace, and I was as surprised as the next chap when I found how short hisrope was. I held his notes for double the amount he had in thebeginning. Did I come down on his family for them, after he chose theeasiest way of evading payment? Not a bit of it. I burned them."

  "Policy," commented Vicot briefly.

  "Is the best honesty," supplemented Radwalader.

  "He was daft on baccarat, and if he had to lose, why not to me as wellas another? And a man who drowns himself for ten thousand francs isn'tworth considering."

  He crossed to the piano, and, seating himself, let his fingers stray upand down the keyboard through a maze of curiously intermingling minorchords. Then he began to hum softly, looking up, with his eyeshalf-closed, as if trying to recall the words. After a moment, he strucka final note, low in the bass, and, with his foot on the pedal, listeneduntil the sound died down to silence.

  "I want to know what you mean to do," reiterated Vicot obstinately.

  "Well, you won't, and that's flat. The job is for you to take or leave,as you see fit. Only I want yes or no, and, after that, no more talk.I'm a hard man to make angry, but you've done it once to-day, and that'sonce too often for your good. Why, what are you thinking of, man? You'veknown me for five years. Did you ever see me hesitate or back down? Didyou ever find a screw loose in my work, or so much as a scrap of paperto incriminate me? Did you ever know me to leave a footprint in the mudwe've been through together--or let you leave one either, for thatmatter? A man like you would land in Mazas inside of a week, if hetinkered with business like mine, without a head like mine to guide him!Look here. You've been useful to me, Vicot, and, though you've been paidenough to make us quits, I'm not ungrateful to you in my own way.Continue to stick by me and I'll stick by you. Throw it all over, if youwill, and you can go your way, with a handsome present to boot. But letme hear any more of such drivel as you've given me to-day, and, as Godlives, my man, I'll smooch you off the face of the earth, as I'd smoocha green caterpillar off a page of my book! You'd be a smear of slime, myfriend, and nothing more--and I'd turn the page, and go on reading!"

  Radwalader had not raised his tone, as on the former occasion, or evenrisen, but his voice rasped the silence of the _salon_ like a diamond onthin glass.

  "Is it yes, or no?" he added.

  Vicot swallowed the spirit in his glass, and looked across at him withhis eyes watering and blinking.

  "You know which," he said.

  "Say it!"

  "It's yes," said Vicot sulkily; "but if I wasn't the cur I am, I'd tellyou to go to hell--you and all your works!"

  Radwalader closed the piano gently.

  "If it affords you any satisfaction to hear it," he answered, risingwith a yawn, "I think it likely that the injunction is entirelysuperfluous. We sha'n't gain anything by prolonging this interview. It'sfour minutes to six, and I must dress for dinner. When I want you, I'llstick the blue jar in the window. Meanwhile, here's fifty francs onaccount. I'll get Mr. Vane to pay you in advance."

  Vicot stood silent for a moment, the bill crackling as he folded itbetween his trembling fingers.

  "Is that his name?" he asked.

  "That's his name. _Au revoir._"

  And Radwalader went to the window, flung it open, and drew a deep breathof the soft, spring-evening air. A girl was selling violets on thecorner, and he beckoned to her, and bought a bunch of Palmas, leaningdown from the sill to take them. Plunging his face into the fragrantpurple mass, he dropped a two-franc piece into her hand with a gesturewhich bade her keep the coin.

  "_Comme monsieur est bon!_" said the girl, smiling up at him.

  Only one other figure was in sight, that of Monsieur Jules Vicot, withhis head bent, and his hands in his pockets, turning, at a snail's pace,into the Avenue Victor Hugo. From him Radwalader's eyes came back to theface of the flower-girl.

  "You were just in time," he said, with his nose among the violets. "Theair was getting a little close."

  Then he shut the window, leaving her looking up, smiling, and wrinklingher forehead at the same time, and went back into his bedroom, whistling"_Au Clair de la Lune_."