La clique dorée. English

by Emile Gaboriau

  XXVII.

  In the meantime, the long, trying scene had exhausted Daniel; and he laythere, panting, on his bed. The surgeon and the lawyer withdrew, to lethim have some rest.

  He certainly needed it; but how could he sleep with the fearful ideaof his Henrietta--she whom he loved with his whole heart--being in thehands of this Justin Chevassat, a forger, a former galley-slave, theaccomplice and friend of Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet?

  "And I myself handed her over to him!" he repeated for the thousandthtime,--"I, her only friend upon earth! And her confidence in me wasso great, that, if she had any presentiment, she suppressed it for mysake."

  Daniel had, to be sure, a certain assurance now, that Maxime de Brevanwould not be able to escape from justice. But what did it profit him tobe avenged, when it was too late, long after Henrietta should have beenforced to seek in suicide the only refuge from Brevan's persecution? Nowit seemed to him as if the magistrate was far more anxiously concernedfor the punishment of the guilty than for the safety of the victims.Blinded by passion, so as to ask for impossibilities, Daniel would havehad this lawyer, who was so clever in unearthing crimes committed inSaigon, find means rather to prevent the atrocious crime which was nowgoing on in France. On his part, he had done the only thing that couldbe done.

  At the first glimpse of reason that had appeared after his terriblesufferings, he had hastened to write to Henrietta, begging her to takecourage, and promising her that he would soon be near her. In thisletter he had enclosed the sum of four thousand francs.

  This letter was gone. But how long would it take before it could reachher? Three or four months, perhaps even more.

  Would it reach her in time? Might it not be intercepted, like theothers? All these anxieties made a bed of burning coals of the couchof the poor wounded man. He twisted and turned restlessly from side toside, and felt as if he were once more going to lose his senses. Andstill, by a prodigious effort of his will, his convalescence pursued itsnormal, steady way in spite of so many contrary influences.

  A fortnight after Crochard's confession, Daniel could get up; he spentthe afternoon in an arm-chair, and was even able to take a few steps inhis chamber. The next week he was able to get down into the gardenof the hospital, and to walk about there, leaning on the arm of hisfaithful Lefloch. And with his strength and his health, hope, also,began to come back; when, all of a sudden, two letters from Henriettarekindled the fever.

  In one the poor _girl_ told him how she had lived so far on the moneyobtained from the sale of the little jewelry she had taken with her, butadded that she was shamefully cheated, and would soon be compelled toseek employment of some sort in order to support herself.

  "I am quite sure," she said, with a kind of heartrending cheerfulness,"that I can earn my forty cents a day; and with that, my friend, I shallbe as happy as a queen, and wait for your return, free from want."

  In the other she wrote,--

  "None of my efforts to procure work has so far succeeded. The futureis getting darker and darker. Soon I shall be without bread. I shallstruggle on to the last extremity, were it only not to give my enemiesthe joy of seeing me dead. But, Daniel, if you wish to see yourHenrietta again, come back; oh, come back!"

  Daniel had not suffered half as much the day when the assassin's ballploughed through his chest. He was evidently reading one of those lastcries which precede agony. After these two fearful letters, he couldonly expect a last one from Henrietta,--a letter in which she would tellhim, "All is over. I am dying. Farewell!"

  He sent for the chief surgeon, and said, as soon as he entered,--

  "I must go!"

  The good doctor frowned, and replied rudely,--

  "Are you mad? Do you know that you cannot stand up fifteen minutes?"

  "I can lie down in my berth."

  "You would kill yourself."

  "What of that? I would rather suffer death than what I now endure.Besides, I have made up my mind irrevocably! Read this, and you will seeyourself that I cannot do otherwise."

  The chief surgeon took in Henrietta's last letter almost at a singleglance; but he held it in his hand for some time, pretending to read it,but in reality meditating.

  "I am sure," the excellent man thought in his heart, "I am sure, in thisman's place, I should do the same. But would this imprudence be of anyuse to him? No; for he could not reach the mouth of the Dong-Nai alive.Therefore it is my duty to keep him here: and that can be done, since heis as yet unable to go out alone; and Lefloch will obey me, I am sure,when I tell him that his master's life depends upon his obedience."

  Too wise to meet so decided a determination as Daniel's was by a flatrefusal, he said,--

  "Very well, then; be it as you choose!"

  Only he came in again the same evening, and, with an air ofdisappointment, said to Daniel,--

  "To go is all very well; but there is one difficulty in the way, ofwhich neither you nor I have thought."

  "And what is that?"

  "There is no vessel going home."

  "Really, doctor?"

  "Ah! my dear friend," replied the excellent man boldly, "do you think Icould deceive you?"

  Evidently Daniel thought him quite capable of doing so; but he tookgood care not to show his suspicions, reserving to himself the right ofmaking direct inquiries as soon as the opportunity should offer. It camethe very next morning. Two friends of his called to see him. He sentLefloch out of the room on some pretext, and then begged them to go downto the port, and to engage a passage for him,--no, not for him, but forhis man, whom urgent business recalled to France.

  In the most eager manner the two gentlemen disappeared. They stayed awaythree hours; and, when they came back, their answer was the same as thedoctor's. They declared they had made inquiries on all sides; but theywere quite sure that there was not a single vessel in Saigon ready tosail for home. Ten other persons whom Daniel asked to do the samething brought him the same answer. And yet, that very week, two shipssailed,--one for Havre, the other for Bordeaux. But the concierge ofthe hospital, and Lefloch, were so well drilled, that no visitor reachedDaniel before having learned his lesson thoroughly.

  Thus they succeeded in keeping Daniel quiet for a fortnight; but, at theend of that time, he declared that he felt quite well enough to look outfor a ship himself; and that, if he could do no better, he meant tosail for Singapore, where he would be sure to procure a passage home. Itwould, of course, have been simple folly to try and keep a man back whowas so much bent upon his purpose; and, as his first visit to the portwould have revealed to him the true state of things, the old surgeonpreferred to make a clean breast of it. When he learned that he hadmissed two ships, Daniel was at first naturally very much incensed.

  "That was not right, doctor, to treat me thus," he exclaimed. "It waswrong; for you know what sacred duties call me home."

  But the surgeon was prepared for his justification. He replied with acertain solemnity which he rarely assumed,--

  "I have only obeyed my conscience. If I had let you set sail in thecondition in which you were, I should have virtually sent you to yourgrave, and thus have deprived your betrothed, Miss Ville-Handry, of herlast and only chance of salvation."

  Daniel shook his head sadly, and said,--

  "But if I get there too late, too late; by a week, a day, do you think,doctor, I shall not curse your prudence? And who knows, now, when a shipwill leave?"

  "When? On Sunday, in five days; and that ship is 'The Saint Louis' afamous clipper, and so good a sailor, that you will easily overtake thetwo big three-masters that have sailed before you."

  Offering his hand to Daniel, he added,--

  "Come, my dear Champcey; don't blame an old friend who has done what hethought was his duty to do."

  Daniel was too painfully affected to pay much attention to theconclusive and sensible reasons alleged by the chief surgeon; he sawnothing but that his friends had taken advantage of his condition tokeep him in the dark. Still he also felt that it would have bee
n blackingratitude and stupid obstinacy to preserve in his heart a shadowof resentment. He therefore, took the hand that was offered him, and,pressing it warmly, replied in a tone of deep emotion,--

  "Whatever the future may have in store for me, doctor, I shall neverforget that I owe my life to your devotion."

  As usually, when he felt that excitement was overcoming him,--a veryrare event, to tell the truth,--the old surgeon fell back into his roughand abrupt manner.

  "I have attended you as I would have attended any one: that is my duty,and you need not trouble yourself about your gratitude. If any one owesme thanks, it is Miss Ville-Handry; and I beg you will remind her of itwhen she is your wife. And now you will be good enough to dismiss allthose dismal ideas, and remember that you have only five days longer totremble with impatience in this abominable country."

  He spoke easily enough of it,--five days! It was an eternity for aman in Daniel's state of mind. In three hours he had made all hispreparations for his departure, arranged his business matters, andobtained a furlough for Lefloch, who was to go with him. At noon,therefore, he asked himself with terror, how he was to employ his timetill night, when they came, and asked if he would please come over tothe courthouse, to see the magistrate.

  He went at once, and found the lawyer, but so changed, that he hardlyrecognized him at first. The last mail had brought him the news of hisappointment to a judgeship, which he had long anxiously desired, andwhich would enable him to return, not only to France, but to his nativeprovince. He meant to sail in a frigate which was to leave towards theend of the month, and in which Crochard, also, was to be sent home.

  "In this way," he said, "I shall arrive at the same time as the accused,and very soon after the papers, which were sent home last week; and Itrust and hope I shall be allowed to conduct the trial of an affair,which, so far, has gone smoothly enough in my hands."

  His impassive air was gone; and that official mask was laid aside, whichmight have been looked upon as much a part of his official costume asthe black gown which was lying upon one of his trunks. He laughed, herubbed his hands, and said,--

  "I should take pleasure in having him in my court, this JustinChevassat, alias Maxime de Brevan. He must be a cool swindler, brimfulof cunning and astuteness, familiar with all the tricks of criminalcourts, and not so easily overcome. It will be no child's play, I amsure, to prove that he was the instigator of Crochard's crimes, andthat he has hired him with his own money. Ah! There will be livelydiscussions and curious incidents."

  Daniel listened, quite bewildered.

  "He, too," he thought. "Professional enthusiasm carries him away; andhere he is, troubling himself about the discussions in court, neitherless nor more than Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet. He thinks only of thehonor he will reap for having handed over to the jury such a formidablerascal as"--

  But the lawyer had not sent for Daniel to speak to him of his plans andhis hopes. Having learned from the chief surgeon that Lieut. Champceywas on the point of sailing, he wished to tell him that he would receivea very important packet, which he was desired to hand to the court assoon as he reached Paris.

  "This is, you understand," he concluded, "an additional precaution whichwe take to prevent Maxime de Brevan from escaping us."

  It was five o'clock when Daniel left the court-house; and on the littlesquare before it he found the old surgeon, waiting to carry him off todinner, and a game of whist in the evening. So, when he undressed atnight, he said to himself,--

  "After all, the day has not been so very long!"

  But to-morrow, and the day after to-morrow, and the next days!

  He tried in vain to get rid of the fixed idea which filled his mind,--amechanical instinct, so to say, which was stronger than his will, anddrove him incessantly to the wharf where "The Saint Louis" was lying.Sitting on some bags of rice, he spent hour after hour in watching thecargo as it was put on board. Never had the Annamites and theChinamen, who in Saigon act as stevedores, appeared to him so lazy, sointolerable. Sometimes he felt as if, seeing or guessing his impatience,they were trying to irritate him by moving the bales with the utmostslowness, and walking with unbearable laziness around with the windlass.

  Then, when he could no longer bear the sight, he went to the cafe on thewharf, where the captain of "The Saint Louis" was generally to be found.

  "Your men will never finish, captain," he said. "You will never be readyby Sunday."

  To which the captain invariably replied in his fierce Marseillesaccent,--

  "Don't be afraid, lieutenant. 'The Saint Louis,' I tell you, beats theIndian mail in punctuality."

  And really, on Saturday, when he saw his passenger come as usual to thecafe, the captain exclaimed,--

  "Well, what did I tell you? We are all ready. At five o'clock I get mymail at the post-office; and to-morrow morning we are off. I was justgoing to send you word that you had better sleep on board."

  That evening the officers of "The Conquest," gave Daniel a farewelldinner; and it was nearly midnight, when, after having once more shakenhands most cordially with the old chief surgeon, he took possession ofhis state-room, one of the largest on board ship, in which they had putup two berths, so that, in case of need, Lefloch might be at hand toattend his master.

  Then at last, towards four o'clock in the morning, Daniel was arousedby the clanking of chains, accompanied by the singing of the sailors. Hehastened on deck. They were getting up anchors; and, an hour after that,"The Saint Louis" went down the Dong-Nai, aided by a current, rushingalong "like lightning."

  "And now," said Daniel to Lefloch, "I shall judge, by the time it willtake us to get home, if fortune is on my side."

  Yes, fate, at last, declared for him. Never had the most extraordinarilyfavorable winds hastened a ship home as in this case. "The Saint Louis"was a first-class sailer; and the captain, stimulated by the presence ofa navy lieutenant, always exacted the utmost from his ship; so thaton the seventeenth day after they had left Saigon, on a fine winterafternoon, Daniel could see the hills above Marseilles rise from theblue waters of the Mediterranean. He was drawing near the end of thevoyage and of his renewed anxieties. Two days more, and he would be inParis, and his fate would be irrevocably fixed.

  But would they let him go on shore that evening? He trembled as hethought of all the formalities which have to be observed when a shiparrives. The quarantine authorities might raise difficulties, and causea delay.

  Standing by the side of the captain, he was watching the masts, whichlooked as if they were loaded down with all the sails they could carry,when a cry from the lookout in the bow of the vessel attracted hisattention. That man reported, at two ship's lengths on starboard, asmall boat, like a pilot-boat, making signs of distress. The captainand Daniel exchanged looks of disappointment. The slightest delay inthe position in which they were, and at a season when night falls sosuddenly, deprived them of all hope of going on shore that night. Andwho could tell how long it would take them to go to the rescue of thatboat?

  "Well, never mind!" said Daniel. "We have to do it."

  "I wish they were in paradise!" swore the captain.

  Nevertheless, he ordered all that was necessary to slacken speed, andthen to tack so as to come close upon the little boat.

  It was a difficult and tedious manoeuvre; but at last, after half anhour's work, they could throw a rope into the boat.

  There were two men in it, who hastened to come on the deck of theclipper. One was a sailor of about twenty, the other a man of perhapsfifty, who looked like a country gentleman, appeared ill at ease, andcast about him restless glances in all directions. But, whilst they werehoisting themselves up by the man-rope; the captain of "The Saint Louis"had had time to examine their boat, and to ascertain that it was in goodcondition, and every thing in it in perfect order.

  Crimson with wrath, he now seized the young sailor by his collar; and,shaking him so roughly as nearly to disjoint his neck, he said with aformidable oath,--

  "Are you making fun of
me? What wretched joke have you been playing?"

  Like their captain, the men on board, also, had discovered the perfectuselessness of the signals of distress which had excited their sympathy;and their indignation was great at what they considered a stupidmystification. They surrounded the sailor with a threatening air,while he struggled in the captain's hand, and cried in his Marseillesjargon,--

  "Let go! You are smothering me! It is not my fault. It was the gentlemanthere, who hired my boat for a sail. I, I would not make the signal;but"--

  Nevertheless, the poor fellow would probably have experienced some veryrough treatment, if the "gentleman" had not come running up, and coveredhim with his own body, exclaiming,--

  "Let that poor boy go! I am the only one to blame!"

  The captain, in a great rage, pushed him back, and, looking at himsavagely, said,--

  "Ah! so it is you who have dared"--

  "Yes, I did it. But I had my reasons. This is surely 'The Saint Louis,'eh, coming from Saigon?"

  "Yes. What next?"

  "You have on board Lieut. Champcey of the navy?"

  Daniel, who had been a silent witness of the scene, now stepped forward,very much puzzled.

  "I am Lieut. Champcey, sir," he said. "What do you desire?"

  But, instead of replying, the "gentleman" raised his hands to heaven ina perfect ecstasy of joy, and said in an undertone,--

  "We triumph at last!"

  Then, turning to Daniel and the captain, he said,--

  "But come, gentlemen, come! I must explain my conduct; and we must bealone for what I have to tell you."

  Pale, and with every sign of seasickness in his face, when he had firstappeared on deck, the man now seemed to have recovered, and, in spite ofthe rolling of the vessel, followed the captain and Daniel with a firmstep to the quarter-deck. As soon as they were alone, he said,--

  "Could I be here, if I had not used a stratagem? Evidently not. And yetI had the most powerful interest in boarding 'The Saint Louis' beforeshe should enter port; therefore I did not hesitate."

  He drew from his pocket a sheet of paper, simply folded twice, andsaid,--

  "Here is my apology, Lieut. Champcey; see if it is sufficient."

  Utterly amazed, the young officer read,--

  "I am saved, Daniel; and I owe my life to the man who will hand youthis. I shall owe to him the pleasure of seeing you again. Confide inhim as you would in your best and most devoted friend; and, I beseechyou, do not hesitate to follow his advice literally.

  "Henrietta."

  Daniel turned deadly pale, and tottered. This unexpected, intensehappiness overcame him.

  "Then--it is true--she is alive?" he stammered.

  "She is at my sister's house, safe from all danger."

  "And you, sir, you have rescued her?"

  "I did!"

  Prompt like thought, Daniel seized the man's hands, and, pressing themvehemently, exclaimed with a penetrating voice,--

  "Never, sir, never, whatever may happen, can I thank you enough. Butremember, I pray you, under all circumstances, and for all times, youcan count upon Lieut. Champcey."

  A strange smile played on the man's lips; and, shaking his head, hesaid, "I shall before long remind you of your promise, lieutenant."

  Standing between the two men, the captain of "The Saint Louis" waslooking alternately at the one and the other with an astonished air,listening without comprehending, and imagining marvellous things. Theonly point he understood was this, that his presence was, to say theleast, not useful.

  "If that is so," he said to Daniel, "we cannot blame this gentleman forthe ugly trick he has played us."

  "Blame him? Oh, certainly not!"

  "Then I'll leave you. I believe I have treated the sailor who broughthim on board a little roughly; but I am going to order him a glass ofbrandy, which will set him right again."

  Thereupon the captain discreetly withdrew; while Papa Ravinetcontinued,--

  "You will tell me, M. Champcey, that it would have been simpler to waitfor you in port, and hand you my letter of introduction there. Thatwould have been grievous imprudence. If I heard at the navy departmentof your arrival, others may have learned it as well. As soon, therefore,as 'The Saint Louis' was telegraphed in town, you may be sure a spy wassent to the wharf, who is going to follow you, never losing sight ofyou, and who will report all your goings and your doings."

  "What does it matter?"

  "Ah! do not say so, sir! If our enemies hear of our meeting, you see,if they only find out that we have conversed together, all is lost. Theywould see the danger that threatens them, and they would escape."

  Daniel could hardly trust his ears.

  "Our enemies?" he asked, emphasizing the word "our."

  "Yes: I mean _our_ enemies,--Sarah Brandon, Countess Ville-Handry,Maxime de Brevan, Thomas Elgin, and Mrs. Brian."

  "You hate them?"

  "If I hate them! I tell you for five years I have lived only on the hopeof being able to avenge myself on them. Yes, it is five years now, that,lost in the crowd, I have followed them with the perseverance of anIndian,--five years that I have patiently, incessantly, inch by inch,undermined the ground beneath their steps. And they suspect nothing. Idoubt whether they are aware of my existence. No, not even--What wouldit be to them, besides? They have pushed me so far down into the mud,that they cannot imagine my ever rising again up to their level. Theytriumph with impunity; they boast of their unpunished wickedness, andthink they are strong, and safe from all attacks, because they have theprestige and the power of gold. And yet their hour is coming. I, thewretched man, who have been compelled to hide, and to live on my dailylabor,--I have attained my end. Every thing is ready; and I have only totouch the proud fabric of their crimes to make it come down upon them,and crush them all under the ruins. Ah! if I could see them only sufferone-fourth of what they have made me suffer, I should die content."

  Papa Ravinet seemed to have grown a foot; his hatred convulsed hisplacid face; his voice trembled with rage; and his yellow eyes shonewith ill-subdued passion.

  Daniel wondered, and asked himself what the people who had sworn to ruinhim and Henrietta could have done to this man, who looked so inoffensivewith his bright-flowered waistcoat and his coat with the high collar.

  "But who are you, sir?" he asked.

  "Who am I?" exclaimed the man,--"who am I?"

  But he paused; and, after waiting a little while, he sunk his head, andsaid,--

  "I am Anthony Ravinet, dealer in curiosities."

  The clipper was in the meantime making way rapidly. Already the whitecountry houses appeared on the high bluffs amid the pine-groves; and theoutlines of the Castle of If were clearly penned on the deep blue of thesky.

  "But we are getting near," exclaimed Papa Ravinet; "and I must get backinto my boat. I did not come out so far, that they might see me enter onboard 'The Saint Louis.'"

  And when Daniel offered him his state-room, where he might remain inconcealment, he replied,--

  "No, no! We shall have time enough to come to an understanding aboutwhat is to be done in Paris; and I must go back by rail to-night; I camedown for the sole purpose of telling you this. Miss Henrietta is at mysister's house; but you must take care not to come there. NeitherSarah nor Brevan know what has become of her; they think she has thrownherself into the river; and this conviction is our safety and ourstrength. As they will most assuredly have you watched, the slightestimprudence might betray us."

  "But I must see Henrietta, sir."

  "Certainly; and I have found the means for it. Instead of going to yourformer lodgings, go to the Hotel du Louvre. I will see to it that mysister and Miss Ville-Handry shall have taken rooms there before youreach Paris; and you may be sure, that, in less than a quarter of anhour after your arrival, you will hear news. But, heavens, how near weare! I must make haste."

  Upon Daniel's request, the ship lay by long enough to allow Papa Ravinetand his sailor to get back again into their boat without danger. Wh
enthey were safely stowed away in it, and at the moment when they cast offthe man-rope, Papa Ravinet called to Daniel,--

  "We shall soon see you! Rely upon me! Tonight Miss Henrietta shall havea telegram from us."