Le billet rouge. English

by Fortuné Du Boisgobey

  III.

  The Countess de Lescombat's residence on the Boulevard de Courcelles wasan imposing structure which, in Italy, would certainly have been styledthe Lescombat Palace. Standing majestically between a large court-yardand spacious grounds, this seigneurial mansion seemed intended toaccommodate some exiled king. M. de Lescombat, who had erected thisresidence, had been a _blase_ sceptic, knowing no law save his owncaprice. After amusing himself for several years, he had crowned hiscareer as an eccentric millionaire by marrying the pretended ward of amiddle class libertine, a certain Octavia Crochard, whose story had beenaccurately related by Blanche Pornic, the actress. The result of thismarriage was that M. de Lescombat suddenly took his departure for abetter world after bequeathing his entire fortune to his wife, andwhatever Blanche might say to the contrary, it was scarcely likely thathe had committed suicide, for he had certainly had every reason todesire to remain alive. However, the countess, as soon as she became awidow, behaved with the utmost tact. She retained the services of theold Marchioness de Monastier, a dowager who had long assisted the countin doing the honours of his princely mansion, and who was now quitewilling to act as chaperon to his widow; and a most complaisantchaperon she proved, winking at such secret peccadillos as Octaviaindulged in. The countess now meant to lead a quiet, independent life,but a woman's plans are rarely carried out. Shortly after her husband'sdeath, Dargental was introduced to her by a mutual friend, and she soonbecame so infatuated with him, that she promised to marry him at theexpiration of the ten months' delay prescribed by law.

  This promise had failed to take effect, as her intended husband had beentaken from her by a most terrible, unforeseen catastrophe. It may beasked, how had she borne this terrible blow? Madame de Monastier alonecould have answered the question, for since Dargental's death Madame deLescombat had not left her house, and he had been buried without hershowing herself at the funeral. Moreover, all Puymirol's efforts toenter into communication with her had proved unavailing. Everythingseemed to indicate that she meant to let a suitable interval elapsebefore she emerged from seclusion, and, indeed, when Puymirol met her atthe horse show it was the first time that she had appeared in publicsince her lover's death. She had thought it an excellent opportunity tolet people understand that she had no intention of immuring herselfforever, and so she had repaired to the Palais de l'Industrie in atoilet suited to the occasion. She there received the friends whoapproached her with perfect serenity, and cut their expressions ofcondolence short by a few well-chosen words.

  Puymirol knew her but slightly. Dargental had taken him to two or threeof her entertainments, and as he was a superb waltzer she had noticedhim at the time; but he feared that she had now well-nigh forgotten him,and that she would pay no more attention to his remarks than she hadpaid to his letters. He was thus agreeably surprised when he saw hersmile upon him in the most engaging manner while he approached thetribune where she was seated. He then stationed himself at the foot ofthe staircase, and, deciding to bide his time, waited for the countess'sdeparture, when he might have an opportunity of saying a few words toher in private. Indeed, when the show was about to close for the day,the countess descended the steps, and leaving the two or three gentlemenwho were in obsequious attendance upon her, came straight towards him,apologized for not having received him at her house, and inquired if itwould suit him to come and see her that very afternoon. Puymirol eagerlyaccepted the invitation, although her unexpected cordiality aroused hisdistrust. However, on catching sight of George, he forthwith determinedto place the letters in his keeping as a precaution against afascination he feared. He reached the countess's house but a quarter ofan hour after her own return, and a footman at once escorted him througha suite of magnificent apartments to the boudoir where the lovely widowusually received her intimate friends. He found her armed for conquest.She was certainly a superb creature. Tall, with faultless shoulders, shehad a head like that of a Grecian statue, and her white brow wascrowned with heavy coils of ruddy hair, of the tint which the Venetianmasters were so fond of. Puymirol seated himself in a low chair nearher, and was wondering how he should open the conversation when, withoutany preamble, she exclaimed: "Let us talk of poor Pierre, shall we not?"

  "Pierre Dargental?" said Puymirol. "Yes, that was what brought me here."

  This was only partially true, however, for he admired the countessexceedingly, and, besides, now that he was in her presence, heexperienced the wonderful charm that she exercised over all the men whoapproached her. She, no doubt, realised it, for, fixing her large greeneyes, full of a strange fire, upon him, she softly said: "I thought youhad called partially on my account."

  "And you are right," exclaimed Puymirol, impulsively.

  "Then I forgive you for your almost rude remark. We are already oldfriends, you and I, for it was more than a year ago that poor Pierreintroduced you to me. Do you recollect the ball at which you led thecotillon?"

  "I remember it as if it were but yesterday."

  "And so do I, for I have never met your equal as a waltzer since. Butyou have made no effort to see me since last winter."

  "I feared annoying Dargental."

  "Yes, he was terribly jealous, but, poor fellow, I forgive him. Histerrible death has been a sad blow for me. I see by your face that youdon't believe that--no doubt, because you saw me at the show just now ina spring toilet. However, a woman is not obliged to put on a black dressto be deeply afflicted. My heart is in mourning, but I don't deem itnecessary to publish my grief."

  "Oh, I don't presume to criticise you, madame. On the contrary, I blessthe chance that brought about a meeting between us, for you haverepeatedly refused me an interview."

  "I treated everyone alike. I even thought strongly of leaving Paris fora few months, but I finally came to the conclusion that absence wouldnot cure my grief, and I summoned up courage to shake off theprostration to which my loss had reduced me."

  "I trusted that you would at least reply to the letter in which I beggedof you to grant me an interview."

  "You must not be offended with me on account of my failure to do so. Inever write to any one. It is against my principles."

  "But you must break this rule sometimes," said Adhemar, gazingsearchingly at the countess.

  "Not often," was the calm response. "My autograph letters ought to fetcha good price, for there are certainly very few of them."

  "It would, doubtless, surprise you very much if I told you that I haveone in my possession."

  "Indeed! I should really like to see it."

  "Well, I regret that I haven't got it with me. I should add, however,that it is a very unimportant document; the telegraphic note you sent toPierre at the Lion d'Or."

  "Yes! I recollect that. But I cannot imagine how you came by it."

  "Poor Dargental was dead when it was delivered. We were ignorant of thefact, and were breakfasting without him, at the time, and CharlesBalmer, who was one of the guests, took the liberty to open the messageand show it to us."

  "That doesn't surprise me. Monsieur Balmer is always doing somethingstupid. But I am surprised you kept it."

  "I meant to hand it to Dargental as soon as the lunch was over. But,alas! I arrived at his place too late."

  "Yes," murmured Madame de Lescombat. "I know the terrible story."

  "I should have returned the note to you if I had been able to see you,and I will return it now whenever you like, but I have read and re-readit many times, and I now know your writing as well as if I had receivedhundreds of letters from you."

  "And what do you think of the contents of this famous missive?"

  "I think you were most kind and indulgent as regards poor Pierre inletting him invite to that lunch--"

  "Some of his old flames. Well, I felt tolerably sure of him, but in mysecret heart I was a trifle anxious, as you may judge from the fact thatI begged him to come and see me as soon as the repast was over. How manyladies were present?"

  "Only one, Blanche Pornic."

  "Ah! he h
ad sworn never to see her again," sighed Octavia. "It grievesme to think she was there. She nearly ruined poor Pierre. I succeeded ingetting him out of her clutches, and she has never forgiven me for it.She, no doubt, spoke about me during the lunch?"

  "Yes, madame, and I won't conceal from you the fact that she isn't verykindly disposed towards you."

  "Oh, I can guess what she said about me. She told you that I was thedaughter of a Lyons' weaver, didn't she? That is the truth, and I'm notashamed of it. She also told you that I didn't love my first husband,and that I deceived him, I suppose. The fact is, he never did inspire mewith any other feeling than gratitude, but he asked nothing more, and henever had any reason to complain of me."

  "Mademoiselle Blanche pretended that he poisoned himself."

  "I scorn to notice that calumny. It is as unworthy of notice as she is.Fortunately, I shall never be obliged to hear her name mentioned again."

  "Who knows?" said Puymirol. "She let me understand that she had somepowerful weapons against you--letters."

  "Letters! Why, didn't I tell you just now that I had never written toanyone but Pierre in my life?"

  "That would be quite enough. A few lines suffice to compromise one attimes, and if Dargental was ever foolish enough to show a note of yoursto that girl, she may have managed to obtain possession of it."

  The countess turned pale, and her assurance failed her. "I will neverbelieve that," she said, in a voice that trembled in spite of all herefforts. "Pierre treated me badly at one time, but he was incapable ofintrusting any damaging secret to this creature; besides, she wouldn'thave kept it. I authorize you to tell her, from me, that what she saysis false, and that I'm not afraid of her."

  "Nothing would suit me better but I don't visit her, and there is verylittle probability of my meeting her anywhere."

  Madame de Lescombat reflected for a moment, and then said: "But what ifI asked you to see her again? What if I begged of you to question her,and discover what she referred to when she threatened to produce I don'tknow what proofs against me?"

  "I should comply with your request, of course; but if Blanche suspectedthat I came on your behalf, she would probably be emboldened, and mightpublish your letters if she has any."

  "She hasn't any," was the quick response, "but you are right. It is bestto let the matter drop, and not to trouble ourselves any further aboutthis creature."

  Puymirol was satisfied. The countess had fallen into the trap set forher. The anxiety she had failed to conceal conclusively proved how muchimportance she attached to the recovery of some particular letter, andthis letter was unquestionably one of those contained in thepocket-book.

  However, before Puymirol could decide what use he should make of theadvantage thus gained, his companion said, thoughtfully: "It is strange,but I talk to you exactly as I should talk to an intimate friend. It istrue that I am much better acquainted with you than you suppose, foralthough Pierre seldom brought you to see me he was always talking aboutyou."

  "He was not particularly enthusiastic in his praises, I suppose?"interrupted Adhemar, smiling.

  "Nor in his censure. He was inclined to be jealous of you; but he likedyou, and could not refrain from doing justice to your qualities. He usedto say that you were always brave, and that you never despaired, eitherat the card-table or in your love affairs. It was the same with him; andit was for that very reason that I loved him, though my love for himcertainly cost me dear. Yes, why should I hide from you the fact that Ihave lent him large amounts over and over again. Still, I never evenregretted the inroads that his passion for gambling made in my fortune.I was only too happy to help him, and I think I should almost have hatedhim if he had refused my proffered aid."

  "You are presenting Dargental to me in a new light," said Puymirol,biting his lips.

  "Oh, I see that you have your prejudices like all the rest of your sex.You think it perfectly right and natural to deceive a woman and reduceher to despair by deserting her, and yet your pride revolts at the merethought of accepting a pecuniary favour from her. Well, for myself, Idon't dislike the idea that my lover should treat me as an equal.Dargental, at first, had the same ideas as you have, but I succeeded inwinning him over to my way of thinking; and if I ever pledge myself toanother man, I shall require him to sacrifice the foolish pride you seemto admire so much."

  "You would have great difficulty in converting me. I would rather resignyou than submit."

  "You are not my lover. If you were, I flatter myself that I shouldsucceed in overcoming your opposition. I should say to you, 'You lostten thousand francs last night, on parole, and you are miserable becauseyou don't know how you will manage to pay the money. Here it is. Takeit, or I shall know that you do not love me.'"

  Adhemar started. He, himself, had lost exactly ten thousand francs onthe evening before, and Madame de Lescombat's shot told. Was the remarkreally intended for him, or was it by a mere chance that she mentionedsuch a case, and that exact amount? He did not know, but however thatmight be, he must make some reply. "That is a test to which I should notlike to be subjected," he exclaimed. "It would be a cruel alternative,you must admit."

  "Perhaps so; but come, Fortune has frowned upon you. You admit it, doyou not?"

  "Well, I do admit it. For a fortnight past, I have done nothing butlose. One would think that Dargental's death had brought me bad luck."

  "It will bring misfortune upon others as well. Your last evening atbaccarat was most disastrous, was it not?"

  "How do you know?"

  "Why, there was a member of your club in the tribune at the horse show,and on seeing you bow to me he naturally spoke of you, and of the gameyou played last evening. He told me that you were an excellent player,as cool when you lost as when you won. That is all very well; but onemust be able to pay one's debts of honour."

  "I shall pay mine," said Adhemar drily.

  "I have wounded you, I see," replied the countess. "Believe me, theoffence was unintentional. I have a bad habit of not concealing myfeelings, and of imagining that I have a right to oblige those I like. Iheard that you were embarrassed pecuniarily, and my first impulse was tohelp you. It was for that reason that I asked you to call here. If yourefuse my offer you will wound me deeply, I assure you."

  "What would you think of me if I accepted it?"

  "I should think that I inspired you with sufficient liking andconfidence to make you willing to become my debtor. I merely propose aloan. With Pierre, it was different. Pierre was to marry me. We had thesame interests, and my fortune was his; but I shall accommodate youexactly as one friend accommodates another, and if you insist upon it,I am willing to accept your note for the amount."

  "My note would not be worth more than a verbal promise, for I have nosecurity to give, and I should probably be unable to meet the note whenit fell due. If I consented to accept your offer, I should never dare toset foot here again, and that would be a terrible deprivation for me."

  "You wish to see me again, you say, and yet you hesitate to make thisslight sacrifice of pride? It is not in this way that I wish to beloved."

  "Then you would be willing to accept my love and devotion?" exclaimedPuymirol.

  "A coquette might give you an evasive answer. But I am made of differentstuff, and I frankly answer 'Yes.'"

  Acting upon the impulse of the moment, Adhemar made a movement as if tothrow himself at the countess's feet, but she checked him with agesture, and said, smiling: "I desire no rash or prematureprotestations. Listen to me before you go any further. I have beensufficiently frank with you for you to believe me when I tell you what Ithink, and feel. At my age a woman can hardly resign herself toperpetual widowhood, and for that reason I was on the point of marryingPierre, though I might have done much better, for I had serious reasonto complain of him. But you are not going to ask me to marry you, oreven to engage myself to you forthwith, I suppose?"

  "No, for you would refuse."

  "No doubt; and, besides, the man who cares to win me must be my friendand
my ally against my enemies."

  "Is it possible that you have any enemies?"

  "Have you forgotten Blanche Pornic? She might injure me greatly; and Icannot contend unaided against a woman who has nothing to lose."

  Puymirol now began to understand the countess's advances, and hisself-possession returned to him, in a measure. It was evident that shewished to bind him to her at any cost.

  "You may be right," he said, after a moment's silence. "Blanche iscapable of anything; besides, she has good reason to feel anxious, forthe authorities believe that Dargental died by violence, and she hasbeen closely questioned, and may be examined again."

  "Can she be accused of murdering him?"

  "Not exactly, as she is still at large. But the police are looking forthe murderer; and rumour attributes the crime to one of our friend'sformer sweethearts, who hired some one to kill him, so as to regainpossession of certain letters."

  "What did I tell you a moment ago? This creature undoubtedly wrote himsomething that revealed her in her true character. I am sure of it; forPierre told me one day that he had something in his possession whichwould suffice to send her to the Assizes. I am perfectly willing torepeat that to the magistrate."

  "That would be very imprudent; for Mademoiselle Pornic, in self-defence,might declare that you also had written to Pierre, and that you wereeven more interested than she was in regaining possession of yourcorrespondence. At the beginning of our conversation, you yourselfadmitted that there were some danger in this."

  "And I asked you to try and frighten Mademoiselle Pornic out of thenotion of slandering me. You politely refused. I shall, perhaps, beobliged to apply to a bolder person. Where does this woman live?"

  "At No. 34, Avenue de Messine. But it would be useless for you to applyto her. Not a single letter was found at Dargental's. Besides, hispocket-book had been stolen from him."

  "A Russia-leather pocket-book, with his initial and a marquis's coronetupon it!" exclaimed the countess, greatly agitated. "I gave it to him."

  "Well, the question is to ascertain into whose hands it has fallen,"remarked Puymirol. "If it has come into Blanche Pornic's possession, shewill have destroyed her own letters, and have preserved yours."

  "I can compel her to return them to me."

  "I doubt it. If I thought it possible, I should not hesitate to make theattempt."

  "My hand and fortune shall be the reward of the man who will restore myletters to me," said the countess, boldly.

  It was impossible to declare more plainly that she was at the mercy ofthe person who had possession of her missives to Dargental, andPuymirol, still under the charm of her wonderful beauty, felt anxious towin the promised reward. "I will do all in my power to serve you," hesaid, rising, after he had pressed a kiss upon her soft white hand.

  "Then begin by taking the five hundred louis you need to pay yourgambling debts," was the quick reply.

  "Anything but that," rejoined Puymirol, firmly. "Will you permit me tocall again to-morrow?"

  "At any hour you like. I shall always be at home to you."

  Puymirol certainly deserved some credit for refusing Madame deLescombat's offers of pecuniary assistance, for never since the outsetof his struggles in Parisian waters had he found himself in an equallytrying position. A fortnight's continuous ill luck had reduced him topenury. It is true that he still had twenty-four hours' respite lefthim, but if he had had a month at his disposal, he would have been nobetter off, for he had nothing to expect from any one. George Caumontcould render him no assistance, and his Aunt Besseges would not send hima penny, even had he merely asked her to advance him a portion of hisnext quarter's allowance.

  There is nothing really better than violent exercise for dispellinggloomy thoughts, and, being fully aware of this fact, Puymirol, aftertaking leave of the countess, repaired to his club, and entered thefencing-room, in the hope of finding some pleasant company, and ofgaining an appetite by a bout with some foemen worthy of his steel. Hefenced in turn with three of the best swordsmen present, even worstedthe professor, and then having attained a tranquil state of mind, hebegan to consider where he should dine, and in what way he should spendhis evening.

  The club dinner not being quite ready, he decided to patronise the Liond'Or, where he had not set foot since the catastrophe. He strolled thereand went in without noticing a gentleman who was talking with thedoorkeeper, and who entered immediately behind him. However, the firstperson he saw inside was Blanche Pornic, seated at table with a youngand handsome officer. The meeting displeased him, but it was too late tobeat a retreat. Blanche would think he was purposely avoiding her, andhe did not wish to arouse her suspicions. She gave him a friendly smileas he passed by--a smile which made her companion turn to look at thenew comer who was greeted so familiarly. Puymirol responded by touchinghis hat politely, and then walked on to the other end of the room, forhe felt that the right moment for an interview with Blanche had not yetarrived, and he did not care to be in her immediate neighbourhood.Having ensconced himself in a corner, he ordered a first-rate dinner,and under the influence of some generous wine his ideas soon assumed aroseate hue. It was only when he had finished his dessert and had justpoured himself out a little old brandy, that he noticed that a persondining in front of him--the gentleman who had followed him into therestaurant--was staring at him with strange persistency. Puymirolreturned the stare with interest, and perceived that this stranger was aman considerably older than himself, carefully dressed, but withsomewhat the look of a provincial. He did not once lower his eyes, butkept them persistently riveted on Puymirol, and the latter, who was byno means patient, soon called a waiter and ordered him in a loud voiceto go and ask that gentleman why he was staring at him in such anextraordinary manner. The frightened servant did not seem at all anxiousto deliver this disagreeable message, but the offender had heard theorder, and laying his napkin on the table, he quietly rose, and camestraight towards Puymirol, who prepared himself for an attack. However,the stranger, probably in order to convince Adhemar that he had nohostile intentions, began by bowing very politely, and then said, in aconciliatory tone: "Excuse me, sir, for having looked at you in anoffensive manner. But I was trying to find some excuse for speaking toyou, and now that you have furnished it, I will ask the favour of amoment's conversation."

  "What have you to say to me?" retorted Puymirol, without abandoning histhreatening attitude.

  "Permit me first to take a seat at your table. If I continue to talk toyou standing, I shall attract the attention of all the people present.They are already beginning to watch us, and they will think I am tryingto pick a quarrel with you, whereas my intentions are really of the mostpeaceable kind. Besides, what I have to say to you is strictlyconfidential."

  "Very well, take a seat and explain yourself, but be brief. First ofall, who are you?"

  "My name would have no significance to you," said the stranger, sittingdown. "I don't know yours, nor do I wish to know it."

  "But how can you have any business with me if you don't know my name?You are fooling me, and I am going--"

  "Pray, grant me a hearing. I was at the door of the restaurant when youcame in, and I asked the door-porter if you had not come here one day,under circumstances which he was bound to remember. He replied in theaffirmative, so I followed you in, wondering how I should manage toenter into conversation with you. Pray, believe that I should not havewatched for your coming here during a whole fortnight, if mere idlecuriosity had prompted my desire to make your acquaintance."

  "You dare to admit that you have been playing the spy on me for afortnight?"

  "I was not playing the spy, I merely told the doorkeeper that I wouldgive him two louis if he would point out to me a gentleman who came hereone morning in a cab to lunch with a party in a private room. He wasanxious to secure the promised reward, of course, but you did not makeyour appearance until to-night."

  "Well, confine yourself to facts. What do you want with me?"

  "Before explaining mys
elf more fully, I wish to satisfy myself that I amnot making a mistake. So allow me, sir, to ask you one question, onlyone. Did you not, on Wednesday, the 9th of April, pass through the Placedu Carrousel in a cab which turned into the Rue de Rivoli?"

  "I have passed through the Place du Carrousel hundreds of times in mylife," said Adhemar, "but I am not at all sure that I passed through iton the day you mention. I have no reason to recollect such aninsignificant occurrence."

  "You came here to lunch with some friends. You were not alone in thecab--"

  "Well, say there were two of us, but what difference can that make toyou and why have you taken so much trouble to look me up?"

  "It did, indeed, cost me a deal of trouble. My only clue was the numberof the cab, so I first tried to find the driver and ultimatelysucceeded. He remembered you very well on account of the liberalgratuity you gave him on dismissing him, and he told me he had set youand your friend down outside the Lion d'Or. I then spoke to thedoor-porter of the restaurant, who said that he knew you by sight, butthat he was unable to give me your name or address; and the head waitereither could not or would not tell me anything. I again applied to thedoor-porter, giving him two louis, and promising him two more. He knewthat you dined here sometimes, and he promised to point you out to methe first time you came if I had patience enough to wait for you everyday between seven and eight. I accepted his offer, and by waitingpatiently, I have at last accomplished my object."

  "Well, well, come to the facts, for although you have been talking tenminutes or more, we have made no progress whatever." Puymirol had nowabandoned all idea of repulsing the stranger. His curiosity was greatlyexcited, and he determined not to part with this man until he hadsubjected him to a close examination.

  "I am coming to the facts, sir, and I trust you will not take offence atthe question I am going to ask you. Did you find a pocket-book in thecab which brought you here a fortnight ago?"

  "Here it comes at last!" thought Puymirol. "I have you now, my finefellow."

  "A pocket-book?" he repeated aloud in pretended astonishment. "No,certainly not. Had there been one in the cab I should of course haveleft it there, and as you know the number of the vehicle you shouldapply to the authorities, or rather to the driver, as you have succeededin finding him."

  "The driver saw nothing of it. He told me so, and I am sure that he toldthe truth."

  "Then you may as well abandon all hope of recovering your pocket-book.It must have been appropriated by one of the persons who hired thevehicle afterwards. Did it contain any bank-notes?"

  "Not one; nothing, in fact, but a few lottery tickets which amount tonothing, for no one ever wins anything in the gigantic humbugs that areso extensively advertised."

  "Then, why do you attach so much importance to the recovery of suchworthless property?"

  The stranger reflected for a moment, and then said, gravely: "I don'tknow who you are, sir, but I feel sure that you are an honourable man,so I do not hesitate to tell you that a woman's reputation is at stake.The pocket-book also contained several letters."

  "Good! I understand now. You fear that these letters may have falleninto the hands of some person who will make a bad use of them. That isimprobable, however, as they could hardly interest the finder. But howthe deuce did you happen to leave them in the cab--for I suppose theywere addressed to you?"

  "You are mistaken, sir. The woman who wrote them commissioned me toclaim them from the man who received them. I was fortunate enough toobtain possession of them, but only after a deal of difficulty. I willeven admit to you that I was obliged to threaten the scoundrel who heldthem, and who intended to make use of them. He finally yielded, but hehoped to regain possession of them, and with that object he had mefollowed by two of his hirelings. I found that out, and surmised thathis spies first intended to find out where I was going, then to springupon me just as I was entering the house, and wrest the pocket-book fromme."

  "In broad daylight, and in the heart of Paris? Why, you need only havesummoned a policeman or some passer-by to foil the scoundrels."

  "That was exactly what they wanted. Had I called for assistance, myassailants would have accused me of stealing the pocket-book. A crowdwould have gathered round us, and we should have been taken before acommissary of police, who would have found the pocket-book upon me. Anexamination of its contents would have been enough, and more thanenough, to ruin the person I wished to save."

  "Well, if I had been in your place, I should have crossed the bridge,and thrown the pocket-book into the Seine."

  "Yes, I might have done that, but the idea did not occur to me. I wasjust turning out of the Rue de Rivoli when I saw several cabs waiting toenter that street. On passing the last one I laid my hand on the ledgeof the open window, and dropped the pocket-book inside."

  "The men who were following you must have seen your gesture."

  "The fact that they continued to follow me is sufficient proof to thecontrary. I amused myself by leading them as far as Montrouge. There Ientered a house that has two doors, and succeeded in escaping fromthem."

  "But you must have expected that the occupants of the cab would pick upthe pocket-book."

  "Yes; but as it could not be of the slightest use to them, I hoped Ishould regain possession of it. I took good care to note the number ofthe cab, and you see I accomplished my object, as I have succeeded infinding you."

  "That is to say, you suppose I am one of the persons who were in the cabat the time."

  "I am sure of it, and I am also sure that, touched by the tryingsituation in which I am placed, you will return the pocket-book to me."

  "You are too hasty in your conclusions, for even if the article were inmy possession, I should not return it without due consideration. In thefirst place, I should have to know whom I have to deal with, for thereis nothing to prove that you are not an emissary of the man, who, as youpretend, hired some fellows to follow you. You would have to tell meyour name and address, in order that I might make the necessaryinquiries respecting you."

  "My name and address are a secret that I am not free to divulge. Be moregenerous. Restore me the letters without demanding my name. It would bea most kind and noble action, and later on, I shall be able to repay thedebt of gratitude I owe you." Puymirol seemed in no haste to reply. Henow felt sure that Dargental's murderer sat before him, and he wasasking himself what course he had better pursue. "I can now confess thatI fully expected to purchase the pocket-book from the finder," continuedthe stranger. "I was ready and willing to give him as many thousandfrancs as he chose to ask for it; but, on seeing you, I realised thatsuch a course was out of the question. One can not offer money to agentleman like you. One can only appeal to his feelings, and invoke hispity for an imprudent woman."

  "You argue exactly as if I had the letters in my pocket," said Adhemar,in order to gain time.

  "In your pocket, or in your desk at home, which amounts to the samething, as it is in your power to restore them to me in either case."

  "You would consent to accompany me home, then?"

  "Instantly, if you wish it."

  "But I don't wish it. You refuse to tell me where you live, so I don'tsee why I should tell you where I live."

  "Well, there is nothing to prevent you from making an appointment withme for to-morrow at this same restaurant."

  "I only make appointments with my friends."

  "Am I to take this as your final answer?"

  "Yes, and I will now state my reasons. I did see this pocket-book. Itfell into my lap. Now that you have enlightened me, there is no reasonwhy I should deny the fact any longer. But, as for returning thearticle, it is impossible, as it is no longer in my possession."

  "You can at least tell me what you have done with it."

  "I did what any one else would have done with it. I left it at theoffice of the commissary of police."

  The stranger turned perceptibly paler, but he did not lose countenance."At the office of the commissary of the Chaussee d'Antin district?" h
easked.

  "Do you think of claiming the article?" rejoined Puymirol, wishing toevade this rather embarrassing question.

  "Possibly. Before doing so, however, I must consult the person who ismost interested in the matter. But you, no doubt, opened the pocket-bookbefore taking it to the commissary's office?"

  "Yes; and on discovering that it only contained some papers, my firstimpulse was to throw it out of the window, but on reflection I said tomyself: Russian leather has its value, and I thought that the papersmight furnish a clue to the owner of the article."

  "Did you read the letters?"

  "I glanced at them, and seeing that they bore no signature I replacedthem in the pocket-book," replied Puymirol, at the same time suddenlynoticing the direction of the stranger's glance, which was turned uponhis--Puymirol's chest. Instinctively raising his hand he found that oneend of the pocket-book was now projecting from his breast-pocket. He hadunbuttoned his coat on sitting down to dinner, but he now hastily closedit again.

  "I am greatly obliged to you," said the stranger, slowly. "For I nowknow where the letters are. I am very sorry to have troubled you, and Iwill not inflict my company upon you any longer." With these words herose, returned to his table, and asked the waiter for his bill.

  "I see your little game," thought Puymirol, "you intend to follow mewhen I leave the restaurant. Try it, old fellow, we shall see." Andthen, wishing to be quite free in his movements, he also asked for hisscore.

  The two bills were brought at the same time. They both paid, and thestranger rose to go. While he was putting on his overcoat, however,Puymirol asked in a loud voice for some cigars of a particular brand,which, as he knew perfectly well, was not kept in the house. This wasdone solely for the purpose of convincing the stranger that he did notintend to leave the table for several minutes, and the fellow fell intothe trap. Puymirol saw him pass down the main staircase, and disappearbehind the curtains of the vestibule. A moment afterwards, he also rose,slipped on his overcoat, and passed out, not by the main exit, but by aside-door, communicating with the Hotel du Helder, of which therestaurant is an adjunct. He duly proceeded to the hotel entrance, and,peering out, looked up and down the street. It was dark, and no footpassengers were visible, but, finally, inside a wine-shop, brilliantlylighted up and only a few yards off, he saw a person standing near theglass door with his eyes fixed on the restaurant. Puymirol waited tenminutes or more watching this man, and at last the glass door opened,and the fellow crossed the street to the Lion d'Or and spoke to thedoorkeeper, who at once darted up the stairs leading to the restaurant."Good!" thought Puymirol, "the scoundrel wants to find out if I am stillat table. When he finds that I have left he will decamp without loss oftime. I hope the head-waiter won't tell him which way I went out. But ifhe does, this man will never suspect that I am still here, and if heshould come this way, I can easily conceal myself."

  A moment later, the doorkeeper returned and evidently reported theresult of his mission. The stranger slipped a gratuity into his hand,crossed the street, and then walked slowly towards the BoulevardHaussmann, without pausing to look around or behind, as he would havedone had he suspected that anyone meant to follow him. "My ruse hassucceeded," muttered Puymirol, "and the rascal can't escape me now. Icertainly mean to follow him, and when I have found out where he lives,all the rest will be plain sailing."

  On reaching the end of the Rue du Helder, the man paused for an instant,and then turned down the Rue Taitbout. "Perhaps he isn't going straighthome," thought Puymirol. "When he threw the pocket-book into the cab hewas bound for the left bank of the river, so he must live in thatdirection. Perhaps he is now going to see the woman whose cause he hasespoused. I must be careful."

  Puymirol did not at first realize that to follow a man successfully thepursuer must remain some little distance behind. If he follows him tooclosely, he is almost sure to attract his attention, and this almosthappened at the corner of the Rue de Provence, when the stranger wasobliged to stop short to let a carriage pass. He went on his way almostimmediately, but it was a lesson that Puymirol profited by. The strangernow went up the Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin, as far as the Place de laTrinite, where he again hesitated, and Puymirol had to hastily concealhimself behind a vehicle. However, the stranger finally decided to crossthe square and went down the Rue de Londres, but on reaching the Placede l'Europe he stopped again. A train was passing under the railwaybridge, and he leant over the railing to watch it. One might havefancied that he had nothing better to do than to kill time by strollingabout the streets. At last, however, he leisurely turned into the Rue deMadrid, and it suddenly occurred to Puymirol that this street crossedthe Avenue de Messine, where Blanche Pornic resided. True, he had seenBlanche with an officer at the restaurant, but she might have finishedher dinner and have returned home in a cab before now, so possibly thisman, who had murdered Dargental, was her hireling. But on reaching thecorner of the Avenue de Messine, the stranger, instead of entering thatthoroughfare, walked on as far as the Rue de Vigny, a short street, atthe end of which the Lescombat mansion stands. The mystery was solved.The stranger was certainly going to the countess's house. He was not inBlanche's employ but in hers. Puymirol forthwith returned to his firstplan, which was to make a direct attack upon Madame de Lescombat. He nowheld her secret, and she could not refuse him anything, for she was athis mercy. Still, it was necessary for him to make sure that the manentered her house, and for some minutes past the pursuit had beenattended with much more difficulty. This part of Paris is but littlefrequented in the evening, and Puymirol and the man he was followingwere the only persons in the street, so that, if the stranger turned, hecould hardly fail to notice his pursuer. However, the stranger did notturn. On the contrary, he walked on with his head bowed upon his breast,and a cigar in his mouth, apparently oblivious to everything transpiringaround him. He was already passing the high wall that inclosed thegrounds of the Lescombat mansion. There was here a small gate, but,instead of ringing at it, he pushed on towards the boulevard, where themain entrance was situated, and Puymirol finally saw him disappear roundthe corner. He followed on in hot haste. Two windows of Madame deLescombat's abode were lighted up--those of the boudoir where thecountess usually sat--but the stranger was not in front of the gate.Puymirol thought he must have already gone in, and he himself was aboutto ring, when he perceived the fellow standing in the middle of thethoroughfare, and gazing at a fountain. However, the light of anapproaching omnibus was visible in the distance, and Puymirol thoughtthat the stranger might be waiting for it. But he was again mistaken.The omnibus passed on; the man crossed the boulevard, and turning intothe next street, walked off in an exactly opposite direction to thattaken by the omnibus. "No matter," muttered Puymirol, "I will not losesight of him until I see him enter a house. Even then, I must satisfymyself before I leave, that the house he enters is really the one helives in. Baccarat has nearly ruined me, but I still have enough moneyabout me to bribe a doorkeeper. At all events, I shall persevere untilthe end."

  After going a short distance, the man turned suddenly to the right, intoa street that Puymirol was not acquainted with, but which must lead backto the point they had left a few moments before. "Can he have noticedme, and is he trying to throw me off the scent?" Puymirol asked himselffor the first time. "Or, has he allowed me to follow him, in order todraw me into some trap? It would not astonish me on the part of such ascoundrel as he is." Indeed, the fellow knew that the pocket-book was inPuymirol's possession, for he had seen it projecting from his coat atthe restaurant, and he had every reason to suppose that the letters werestill inside it. This reflection made Adhemar pause, but only for amoment. He had gone too far to retreat, so he hurried on again,soliloquising: "Fortunately, I left the letters with George. There areonly some lottery tickets in the case, and, after all, I don't see why Ishould even leave them inside." And, thereupon, he opened thepocket-book, took out the tickets and slipped them into his waistcoatpocket, replacing the case in his coat.

  The stranger
was now some distance in advance, for the person walkingalong so rapidly about half-way up the street must certainly be he, andPuymirol, seeing him again turn to the right, hastened on regardless ofthe noise his boots made on the asphalt. But he had mistaken anotherpedestrian for the enemy he wished to overtake, for just as he was leastexpecting it, his foe, emerging from an alley in which he had concealedhimself, sprung out upon him, and seized him by the throat. Puymirol wasstrong, but the attack was so sudden and so violent, that he had nottime to defend himself. He felt a violent twist, and that was all. Hisbreath failed him, his arms fluttered, and he lost his footing, falling,half-fainting, upon the pavement. He did not entirely loseconsciousness, but his sensations were vague and confused. He fanciedthat there was a heavy weight upon his chest, that his coat was beingunbuttoned and his pockets searched, but all this was done so quicklythat he was scarcely aware of it. How many minutes elapsed before hefully regained his senses, he never knew; but when he did recover them,he perceived that his assailant had disappeared. He rose withdifficulty, and while satisfying himself that he had no bones broken, helikewise discovered that his pocket-book had disappeared. His watch, hismoney, and the lottery tickets were safe, however. His assailant hadmerely wanted to get the letters, and he was foiled in his attempt, forhe had not found them.

  Puymirol endeavoured to console himself with this reflection, butalthough he still possessed the letters he did not know what use to makeof them. Nothing short of a miracle was now required to extricate himfrom his dilemma, but Puymirol was no believer in miracles.