Caught in the Net

by Emile Gaboriau

  CHAPTER XVII.

  SOME SCRAPS OF PAPER.

  The Marquis de Croisenois was never punctual. He had received a noteasking him to call on Mascarin at eleven o'clock, and twelve had strucksome time before he made his appearance. Faultlessly gloved, his glassfirmly fixed in his eye, and a light walking cane in his hand, and withthat air of half-veiled insolence that is sometimes affected by certainpersons who wish the world to believe that they are of great importance,the Marquis de Croisenois entered the room.

  At the age of twenty-five Henry de Croisenois affected the airs andmanners of a lad of twenty, and so found many who looked upon hisescapades with lenient eyes, ascribing them to the follies of youth.Under this youthful mask, however he concealed a most astute and cunningintellect, and had more than once got the better of the women with whomhe had had dealings. His fortune was terribly involved, because he hadinsisted on living at the same rate as men who had ten times his income.Forming one of the recklessly extravagant band of which the Duke deSaumeine was the head, Croisenois, too, kept his racehorses, whichwas certainly the quickest way to wreck the most princely fortune. TheMarquis had found out this, and was utterly involved, when Mascarinextended a helping hand to him, to which he clung with all the energy ofa drowning man.

  Whatever Henry de Croisenois' anxieties may have been on the day inquestion, he did not allow a symptom of them to appear, and on hisentrance negligently drawled, "I have kept you waiting, I fear; butreally my time is not my own. I am quite at your service now, and willwait until these gentlemen have finished their business with you." Andas he concluded, he again placed the cigar which he had removed whilesaying these words, to his lips.

  His manner was very insolent, and yet the amiable Mascarin did not seemoffended, although he loathed the scent of tobacco.

  "We had begun to despair of seeing you, Marquis," answered he politely."I say so, because these gentlemen are here to meet you. Permit me tointroduce to you, Dr. Hortebise, M. Catenac of the Parisian bar, and oursecretary," pointing as he spoke, to Paul.

  As soon as Croisenois had taken his seat, Mascarin went straight to thepoint, as a bullet to the target. "I do not intend," began he, "to leaveyou in doubt for a moment. Beatings about the bush would be absurd amongpersons like ourselves."

  At finding himself thus classed with the other persons present, theMarquis gave a little start, and then drawled out, "You flatter me,really."

  "I may tell you, Marquis," resumed Mascarin, "that your marriage hasbeen definitely arranged by myself and my associates. All you have to dois to get the young lady's consent; for that of the Count and Countesshas already been secured."

  "There will be no difficulty in that," lisped the Marquis. "I willpromise her the best horsed carriage in the Bois, a box at the opera,unlimited credit at Van Klopen's, and perfect freedom. There will beno difficulty, I assure you. Of course, however, I must be presented bysome one who holds a good position in society."

  "Would the Viscountess de Bois Arden suit you?"

  "No one better; she is a relation of the Count de Mussidan."

  "Good; then when you wish, Madame de Bois Arden will introduce you as asuitor for the young lady's hand, and praise you up to the skies."

  The Marquis looked very jubilant at hearing this. "All right," cried he;"then that decides the matter."

  Paul wondered whether he was awake or dreaming. He too had been promiseda rich wife, and here was another man who was being provided for in thesame manner. "These people," muttered he, "seem to keep a matrimonialagency as well as a servants' registry office!"

  "All that is left, then," said the Marquis, "is to arrange the--shall Icall it the commission?"

  "I was about to come to that," returned Mascarin.

  "Well, I will give you a fourth of the dowry, and on the day of mymarriage will hand you a cheque for that amount."

  Paul now imagined that he saw how matters worked. "If I marry Flavia,"thought he, "I shall have to share her dowry with these highlyrespectable gentlemen."

  The offer made by the Marquis did not, however, seem to please Mascarin."That is not what we want," said he.

  "No,--well, must I give you more? Say how much."

  Mascarin shook his head.

  "Well then, I will give you a third; it is not worth while to give youmore."

  "No, no; I would not take half, nor even the whole of the dowry. You maykeep that as well as what you owe us."

  "Well, but tell me what you _do_ want."

  "I will do so," answered Mascarin, adjusting his spectacles carefully;"but before doing so, I feel that I must give you a short account of therise and progress of this association."

  At this statement Hortebise and Catenac sprang to their feet in surpriseand terror. "Are you mad?" said they at length, with one voice.

  Mascarin shrugged his shoulders.

  "Not yet," answered he gently, "and I beg that you will permit me to goon."

  "But surely we have some voice in the matter," faltered Catenac.

  "That is enough," exclaimed Mascarin angrily, "Am not I the head of thisassociation? Do you think," he continued in tones of deep sarcasm, "thatwe cannot speak openly before the Marquis?"

  Hortebise and the lawyer resignedly resumed their seats. Croisenoisthought that a word from him might reassure them.

  "Among honest men--" began he.

  "We are not honest men," interrupted Mascarin. "Sir," added he in asevere tone, "nor are you either."

  This plain speaking brought a bright flush to the face of the Marquis,who had half a mind to be angry, but policy restrained him, and heaffected to look on the matter as a joke. "Your joke is a littlepersonal," said he.

  But Mascarin took no heed of his remark. "Listen to me," said he, "forwe have no time to waste, and do you," he added, turning to Paul, "paythe greatest attention."

  A moment of perfect silence ensued, broken only by the hum of voices inthe outer office.

  "Marquis," said Mascarin, whose whole face blazed with a gleam ofconscious power, "twenty-five years ago I and my associates were youngand in a very different position. We were honest then, and all theillusions of youth were in full force; we had faith and hope. We allthen tenanted a wretched garret in the Rue de la Harpe, and loved eachother like brothers."

  "That was long, long ago," murmured Hortebise.

  "Yes," rejoined Mascarin; "and yet the effluxion of times does nothinder me from seeing things as they then were, and my heart aches as Icompare the hopes of those days with the realities of the present. Then,Marquis, we were poor, miserably poor, and yet we all had vague hopes offuture greatness."

  Croisenois endeavored to conceal a sneer; the story was not a veryinteresting one.

  "As I said before, each one of us anticipated a brilliant career.Catenac had gained a prize by his 'Treatise on the Transfer of RealEstate,' and Hortebise had written a pamphlet regarding which the greatOrfila had testified approval. Nor was I without my successes. Hortebisehad unluckily quarrelled with his family. Catenac's relatives were poor,and I, well, I had no family. I stood alone. We were literally starving,and I was the only one earning money. I prepared pupils for the militarycolleges, but as I only earned twenty-five sous a day by cramming a dullboy's brain with algebra and geometry, that was not enough to feed usall. Well, to cut a long story short, the day came when we had not acoin among us. I forgot to tell you that I was devotedly attached to ayoung girl who was dying of consumption, and who had neither food norfuel. What could I do? I knew not. Half mad, I rushed from the house,asking myself if I had better plead for charity or take the money Irequired by force from the first passer-by. I wandered along thequays, half inclined to confide my sorrow to the Seine, when suddenlyI remembered it was a holiday at the Polytechnic School, and that ifI went to the _Cafe Semblon_ or the Palais Royal, I should most likelymeet with some of my old pupils, who could perhaps lend me a few sous.Five francs perhaps, Marquis,--that is a very small sum, but in that dayit meant the life of my dear Marie and of my two fr
iends. Have you everbeen hungry, M. de Croisenois?"

  De Croisenois started; he had never suffered from hunger, but how couldhe tell what the future might bring? for his resources were so nearlyexhausted, that even to-morrow he might be compelled to discard hisfictitious splendor and sink into the abyss of poverty.

  "When I reached the _Cafe Semblon_," continued Mascarin, "I could notsee a single pupil, and the waiter to whom I addressed my inquirieslooked at me with the utmost contempt, for my clothes were in tatters;but at length he condescended to inform me that the young gentlemen hadbeen and gone, but that they would return. I said that I would wait forthem. The man asked me if I would take anything, and when I replied inthe negative, contemptuously pointed to a chair in a distant corner,where I patiently took my seat. I had sat for some time, when suddenly ayoung man entered the _cafe_, whose face, were I to live for a century,I shall never forget. He was perfectly livid, his features rigid, andhis eyes wild and full of anguish. He was evidently in intense agony ofmind or body. Evidently, however, it was not poverty that was oppressinghim, for as he cast himself upon a sofa, all the waiters rushed forwardto receive his orders. In a voice that was almost unintelligible,he asked for a bottle of brandy, and pen, ink, and paper. In somemysterious manner, the sight of this suffering brought balm to my achingheart. The order of the young man was soon executed, and pouring out atumbler of brandy, he took a deep draught. The effect was instantaneous,he turned crimson, and for a moment almost fell back insensible. I keptmy eyes on him, for a voice within me kept crying out that there wassome mysterious link connecting this man and myself, and that his lifewas in some manner interwoven with mine, and that the influence he wouldexercise over me would be for evil. So strongly did this idea becomerooted, that I should have left the _cafe_, had not my curiosity been sogreat. In the meantime the stranger had recovered himself, and seizinga pen, scrawled a few lines on a sheet of paper. Evidently he was notsatisfied with his composition, for after reading it over, he lit amatch and burnt the paper. He drank more brandy, and wrote a secondletter, which, too, proved a failure, for he tore it to fragments, whichhe thrust into his waistcoat pocket. Again he commenced, usinggreater care. It was plain that he had forgotten where he was, for hegesticulated, uttered a broken sentence or two and evidently believedthat he was in his own house. His last letter seemed to satisfy him, andhe recopied it with care. He closed and directed it; then, tearing theoriginal into pieces, he flung it under the table; then calling thewaiter, he said, 'Here are twenty francs; take this letter to theaddress on the envelope. Bring the answer to my house; here is my card.'The man ran out of the room, and the nobleman, only waiting to pay hisbill, followed almost immediately. The morsels of white paper beneaththe table had a strange fascination for me; I longed to gather them up,to put them together, and to learn the secret of the strange drama thathad been acted before me. But, as I have told you, then I was honest andvirtuous, and the meanness of such an act revolted all my instincts; andI should have overcome this temptation, had it not been for one of thosetrifling incidents which too often form the turning-point of a life.A draught from a suddenly opened door caught one of these morsels ofpaper, and wafted it to my feet. I stooped and picked it up, and readon it the ominous words, 'blow out my brains!' I had not been mistaken,then, and was face to face with some coming tragedy. Having onceyielded, I made no further efforts at self-control. The waiters wererunning about; no one paid any attention to me; and creeping to theplace that the unknown had occupied, I obtained possession of two morescraps of paper. Upon one I read, 'shame and horror!' upon the other,'one hundred thousand francs by to-night.' The meaning of these fewwords were as clear as daylight to me; but for all that, I managed tocollect every atom of the torn paper, and piecing them together, readthis:--

  "'CHARLES,--'I must have one hundred thousand francs to-night, andyou are the only one to whom I can apply. The shame and horror of myposition are too much for me. Can you send it me in two hours? As youact, so I regulate my conduct. I am either saved, or I blow out mybrains.'

  "You are probably surprised, Marquis, at the accuracy of my memory, andeven now I can see this scrawl as distinctly as if it were before me. Atthe end of this scrawl was a signature, one of the best known commercialnames, which, in common with other financial houses, was strugglingagainst a panic on the Bourse. My discovery disturbed me very much. Iforgot all my miseries, and thought only of his. Were not our positionsentirely similar? But by degrees a hideous temptation began to creepinto my heart, and, as the minutes passed by, assume more vivid colorand more tangible reality. Why should I not profit by this stolensecret? I went to the desk and asked for some wafers and a Directory.Then, returning, I fastened the torn fragments upon a clean sheet ofpaper, discovered the address of the writer, and then left the _cafe_.The house was situated in the Rue Chaussee d'Autin. For fully half anhour I paced up and down before his magnificent dwelling-place. Was healive? Had the reply of Charles been in the affirmative? I decided atlast to venture, and rang the bell. A liveried domestic appeared at mysummons, and said that his master did not receive visitors at that hour;besides, he was at dinner. I was exasperated at the man's insolence,and replied hotly, 'If you want to save your master from a terriblemisfortune, go and tell him that a man has brought him the rough draftof the letter he wrote a little time back at the _Cafe Semblon_.' Theman obeyed me without a word, no doubt impressed by the earnestness ofmy manner. My message must have caused intense consternation, for ina moment the footman reappeared, and, in an obsequious manner, said,'Follow at once, sir; my master is waiting for you.' He led me into alarge room, magnificently furnished as a library, and in the centre ofthis room stood the man of the _Cafe Semblon_. His face was deadly pale,and his eyes blazed with fury. I was so agitated that I could hardlyspeak.

  "'You have picked up the scraps of paper I threw away?' exclaimed he.

  "I nodded, and showed him the fragments fastened on to the sheet ofnote-paper.

  "'How much do you want for that?' asked he. 'I will give you a thousandfrancs.'

  "I declare to you, gentlemen, that up to this time I had no intentionof making money by the secret. My intention in going had been simply tosay, 'I bring you this paper, of which some one else might have taken anundue advantage. I have done you a service; lend me a hundred francs.'This is what I meant to say, but his behavior irritated me, and Ianswered,--

  "'No, I want two thousand francs.'

  "He opened a drawer, drew out a bundle of banknotes, and threw them inmy face.

  "'Pay yourself, you villain!' said he.

  "I can, I fear, never make you understand what I felt at this undeservedinsult. I was not myself, and Heaven knows that I was not responsiblefor any crime that I might have committed in the frenzy of the moment,and I was nearly doing so. That man will, perhaps, never see death sonear him, save at his last hour. On his writing table lay one of thoseCatalan daggers, which he evidently used as a paper-cutter. I snatchedit up, and was about to strike, when the recollection of Marie dying ofcold and starvation occurred to me. I dashed the knife to the ground,and rushed from the house in a state bordering on insanity. I went intothat house an honest man, and left it a degraded scoundrel. But I mustfinish. When I reached the street, the two banknotes which I had takenfrom the packet seemed to burn me like coals of fire. I hastened to amoney-changer, and got coin for them. I think, from my demeanor, hemust have thought that I was insane. With my plunder weighing me down,I regained our wretched garret in the Rue de la Harpe. Catenac andHortebise were waiting for me with the utmost anxiety. You remember thatday, my friends. Marquis, my story is especially intended for you. Assoon as I entered the room, my friends ran up to me, delighted at seeingme return in safety, but I thrust them aside.

  "'Let me alone!' cried I; 'I am no longer fit to take an honest man'shand; but we have money, money!' And I threw the bags upon the table.One of them burst, and a flood of silver coins rolled to every part ofthe room.

  "Marie started from her chair with uprais
ed hands. 'Money!' sherepeated, 'money! we shall have food, and I won't die.'

  "My friends, Marquis, were not as they are now, and they started back inhorror, fearing that I had committed some crime.

  "'No,' said I, 'I have committed no crime, not one, at least, that willbring me within the reach of the strong arm of the law. This money isthe price of our honor, but no one will know that fact but ourselves.'

  "Marquis, there was no sleeping in the garret all that night; but whendaylight peered through the broken windows, it beamed on a table coveredwith empty bottles, and round it were seated three men, who, having castaside all honorable scruples, had sworn that they would arrive at wealthand prosperity by any means, no matter how foul and treacherous theymight be. That is all."