“What was the part played by de Lauriac in Odette’s abduction? Everything depends on the answer. Does he know where she is? He may, and I hope he does, but I am not certain. Was there some understanding between him and Callista? The thought of his complicity occurred to me in a flash when I discovered the connection between him and the gipsies which his gift of the jewel to Odette necessarily involves. But I had my misgivings about this assumption. I felt too great a need for it — it squared too easily with my method — for me not to be attracted by it then and there, regardless of my critical judgment. And indeed there’s no proof of it. The gipsies may have done their work and passed through de Lauriac’s property without any connivance on his part. It was much easier for them, in fact, to pass from de Lauriac’s place to Viei-Castou-Nou than to effect a direct entrance into de Lavardens’ park, surrounded as it is on the side nearest the country by very high walls. And then if Callista with Andréa’s help did the deed, she was not perhaps ignorant of the threats made openly by de Lauriac, and thus allowed suspicion to fall upon him.
“The matter is the more difficult to clear up in this respect as de Lauriac is utterly unscrupulous. Did he know that Odette was being kidnapped while he was with Monsieur de Lavardens? I failed to understand his demoniacal look, followed by a kind of savage grin, when Jean mentioned Odette. I understood it still less seeing that this look was aimed at me.”
Extract from Rouletabille’s diary, 10 o’clock p m., 27th May:
“An incident of the first importance! I compelled Estève to come with me to Albaron this afternoon. From here we retraced our steps to Lavardens and entered the wood. I have a hold on Estève by her fears. I threaten to accuse her of complicity in Monsieur de Lavardens’ murder. She pointed out the various places where Odette and she used to meet Zina.
“When we were at the crossway at La Font I heard the sound of something stirring behind me in the foliage. I darted into the thicket. Far too many things have been stirring round me since I came to Camargue, and I should very much like to see what sort of figure they cut! I whipped out my revolver. I was prepared to go all lengths to find out....
“But everything relapsed into a dead silence and search as I might for a trace of the person who had stirred, of him or her who was there a moment before, I discovered absolutely nothing. And yet I had so quickly turned round that I saw the foliage open and close in again. I shook the trees. I examined them from root to branch. Nothing! And yet it was no idle fancy.
“Estève, too, heard the movement, but she had not seen any more than I had: ‘Let’s go back,’ she said, her teeth chattering. ‘I feel so frightened.’
“‘Yes, let’s go back,’ I answered in a loud voice. ‘We’ve nothing more to do here’; and we made for a short cut to Viei-Castou-Nou. But after a few steps, at the first bend, I stopped her by a sign, giving her to understand that we must remain still a moment and listen. Suddenly there was a stir in front of us among the foliage once more, and this time my eyes encountered another pair of eyes. I sprang forward shouting: ‘Stop, or I’ll fire!’ but someone made off through the thickets and I fired. A cry went up, a kind of moan; after that nothing. Estève had not moved a limb for she was half dead with fright. I myself went forward and hunted for the person who had cried out and caught my eye, but I was unable to find any one or any trace of him. The ground was soft at this spot and would have retained the slightest marks, for the imprint of my footsteps was plainly visible. It was maddening.
“Without troubling any more about Estève whom I left far behind, I continued to advance not quite knowing where I was going, and suddenly I espied the cause of my scare which was fleeing before me in wild leaps and bounds. I uttered a cry, and leapt forward in my turn. The bear’s cub. I recognized Callista’s bear’s cub.
“I plunged after him among a clump of trees and saw him disappear under cover of the branches in the cavity of a rock where I followed him. I at once found myself in a sort of subterranean cave in which some person with a few planks had created the illusion of a human habitation. The obscurity was so dense inside that it was some time before I could distinguish its inconsiderable furniture such as a truckle bed, a stool, a fireplace which still bore the remains of a recent fire. At last something moved at the back, uttering a moan which I knew full well. It was the bear’s cub. It was Balogard, for such Callista called him, which in the gipsy vernacular means ‘the thief.’
“I crept towards him with a few friendly words. I was afraid lest I had wounded him, but fortunately I had missed him, and he received me without hostility though in ordinary life we were not a very friendly pair. Then I discovered that Balogard was squatting on some clothes not unfamiliar to me. Callista’s castoff Parisian wardrobe lay there — the costume in nigger brown velvet trimmed with beaver. I inferred from this that for the time at least Callista had become a gipsy once more, and I had no difficulty in assuming that I was in Zina’s retreat to which at first they had transported Odette.... What was the nature of the drama which had been enacted in this cave between Callista, the poor child, and the aged Zina?”
At this stage Rouletabille’s remarks end for that particular day. Nevertheless about six o’clock that same evening a scene of considerable importance took place at Lavardens which is not mentioned in his diary. The authorities had returned here for a supplementary examination, and de Lauriac had been taken to Viei-Castou-Nou.
Rouletabille appeared while de Lauriac was being re-examined at the very spot where Monsieur de Lavardens’ body was discovered. Old Tavan was present.
After throwing; a glance round him Rouletabille spoke to de Lauriac direct:
“I know who kidnapped Odette, and you also know,” he said.
Thereupon de Lauriac began to laugh in the most sinister fashion, staring fixedly at Rouletabille.
“Of course I know,” he returned. “But I don’t know as much about it as you do.”
“Monsieur de Santierne is on the track of Lou Rousso Fiamo,” went on Rouletabille, in a voice which had suddenly taken a new intonation. “Tell the whole truth, monsieur, and you may still be able to save yourself.”
“Monsieur de Santierne would do better to follow the track of Olaja! — of Olajai who came here twenty-four hours before you,” retorted de Lauriac.
“I don’t know what you mean,” returned Rouletabille, growing pale.
“Oh, yes you do, monsieur, you know very well what I mean.”
He continued to grin and shrug his shoulders whereupon the examining magistrate losing patience exclaimed:
“This discussion is intolerable. And your behaviour in the matter” — turning to Rouletabille—” is particularly unpardonable. You seem to take a pleasure in making our task impossible when you are not trying to turn it into ridicule. You assert that you know who abducted Mademoiselle de Lavardens. Well, your duty is to denounce the guilty party to the police.”
“Give you the names of the criminals,” exclaimed Rouletabille, who had recovered his accustomed self-possession, “so that you may let them escape. No, Monsieur Crousillat!”
“Monsieur!”
“I prefer to bring them to you bound hand and foot, and I promise to do so.”
“Braggadocio!” retorted the examining magistrate obviously beginning to lose his temper. “It’s on a par with the articles that you have telegraphed to Paris which have just reached us here. It’s done for a wager! Why do you suggest that we shall never arrest the murderer? Do you know him? Perhaps you can give us a sketch of him. Is he dark or fair? Is he fat or thin?”
“Thin, monsieur, as thin as a spike,” returned Rouletabille, without moving a muscle of his face.
CHAPTER XII
ROULETABILLE ON THE ALERT
EXTRACT FROM ROULETABILLE’S diary:
“This de Lauriac is an infamous rascal. His attitude at the last examination was such that it seemed as if I was paralysed by it. At one time I could not see my way clear at all, and was not even aware that Jean was standin
g behind watching me. I must have cut a sorry figure. And then I recovered my wits and answered the examining magistrate as it behoved me to answer him at the moment. It was then that I saw what a wry face Jean was making.
“When de Lauriac was taken away and Monsieur Crousillat, the examining magistrate, and Monsieur Bartholasse, his unspeakable clerk, who are absolutely furious with me, had left the Viei-Castou-Nou, slamming the door behind them, I went up to Jean and asked him the result of his journey to Beaucaire. He gave me a peculiar look and made answer that he had seen Lou Rousso Fiamo, and this paragon of a drover had not left his beasts during the period of the tragedy.
“‘Well, and are you still convinced that de Lauriac is the man?’ I asked.
“‘What about you?’ he returned. ‘Are you still convinced that he isn’t?’
“I told him that it was impossible at present to assert or to deny his complicity. Then in a tone of disgust which was, perhaps, pardonable, but for all that gave me a pang at my heart, he rapped out:
“‘In any case, do you, yes or no, know where Odette is?’
“‘If I knew, she would be here now.’
“He gave me a look which was almost that of an enemy, clenched his fists, and turned on his heel as if I were a person whose presence had become unbearable to him.”
At this point in the diary some half dozen lines are repeatedly scratched through as if Rouletabille intended deliberately to expunge them. Nevertheless under the lines three words, “dear little Odette,” which have already been noted in the diary, may be divined rather than discerned; and after the suppressed lines come the following remarks:
“I have a great many enemies here, but the most formidable has just appeared. It is suspicion; the suspicion which at first spied on me from afar and next came and stood before me with its ice-cold eyes; eyes which however wide-open they may be when they stare at external things, reflect nothing but the suspicion which excites them. Yet I have outlived worse things than that. Don’t let me be affected by it. This is not the moment.”
Rouletabille assumed with good reason that if Callista was to return to Zina’s retreat for her clothes she would not run the risk of such a visit until after dark. And here is an extract from his diary recording his vigilance:
“It was about ten o’clock when Callista, dressed as a gipsy, appeared on the path leading to the old hag’s haunt. She was quite recognizable in spite of her rags. She had the look of an outraged queen which she sometimes assumed in Paris when Jean or any of his friends treated her with too great a familiarity. As she drew near the cave, which Zina had fixed upon as her abode, she turned round unexpectedly and the moonlight fell full on a face which expressed intense exasperation.
“‘Is that you again, Andréa?’ she said aloud.
“But it was the form of a woman which came in sight on the path. Callista made a movement as if to draw back into the thicket, but before she could take a step, the newcomer spoke and Callista stood still in amazement. I heard her mutter:
“‘Madame de Meyrens!’
“It was in truth the Octopus who came up to her. “‘How did you get here?’ questioned Callista, breathing quickly. ‘What are you here for?’
“‘To see you,’ answered Madame de Meyrens.
‘Oh, if you only knew how I’ve hunted for you! It was Olajaï who told me that there was some possibility of finding you at Zina’s place, and brought me here.’
“‘Olajaï!’ snorted Callista furiously. ‘Where is he? I want to talk to him.’
“‘Oh, you won’t find him in Camargue now. He’s not anxious to come up against your temper. But I promised to pacify you. Callista, are we or are we not good friends?’
“At this moment they entered Zina’s grotto. When they came out again, ten minutes later, they seemed to have reached some understanding. Callista was carrying a parcel which I imagined contained her clothes. Meanwhile, she said to the Octopus:
“‘No, don’t ask me anything more. We shall see each other again. I’ve told you everything that I can tell you for the time being. Henceforth be easy in your mind as I am myself. Neither your Rouletabille nor my Jean will see this Odette again.’
“‘I shan’t be easy in my mind until you tell me she is dead,’ declared the Octopus fiercely.
“Callista shrugged her shoulders and with an ominous chuckle said:
“‘I assure you that no one will ever see her again.’ “Having thus spoken they became silent. When I could no longer hear their footsteps on the road, I darted into the grotto, which was empty. Even the bear’s cub was gone. It was pitch dark inside but I had brought my lantern, and I applied myself to a minute search which I was not at liberty to make on my first visit, for I was disturbed by a noise outside.
“As I guessed, Callista had taken away her clothes. What I was hunting for was not so much particular articles as traces of the possibly deadly tragedy which had occurred there. The last words uttered by Callista filled my mind with dismay. Everything was within the region of possibility with such a woman: ‘Neither your Rouletabille nor my Jean will see this Odette again!’
“It was no difficult task, unfortunately, to find in the cave traces of a struggle, of an unmistakable and even desperate resistance which had suddenly ceased. At last while I was on all fours at the fireplace my hand strayed to a small dark puddle which gleamed in the light of my lamp.... Blood!... And in the blood a knife!... They had murdered Odette!
“At that moment I could not repress a cry of rage and a great sob broke in my throat. And then suddenly I burst out laughing... wild insensate laughter.... The thing that I took for blood was ink!
“And I then discovered a broken ink bottle and an old pen in pieces near an overturned stool. I now understood Callista’s silence following a certain question put to her by the Octopus; and a lightheartedness flooded my whole being. No, no.... Nothing was lost! No blood was on the ground and the knife bore only a little ink on it. And had they been driven to murder Odette, it was here that they would have struck her down since they possessed all that was needed — the knife and silence!
“What a plucky little thing Odette was! What had they endeavoured to make her write, or sign?... Still, nowhere was there any trace of blood. It was not therefore a corpse which they had carried away in the caravan whose trail I had picked up close to the grotto — a trail which joined the road from Arles to Les Saintes Maries and was lost among the tracks of a hundred other caravans proceeding to the four corners of the earth.
Was I right or wrong, therefore, to retrain from giving the least hint to the magistrates lest they should badger all the gipsies leaving Les Saintes Maries? Who can ever tell the terrors of so great a responsibility. Why, would not it have been tantamount to warning the fugitives of the discovery of their crime when above all the thing was to take them by surprise? With their immemorial cunning they would have played a hundred tricks before handing Odette over to us. Was I not bound to take into consideration that the deed was done some hours before our arrival at Lavardens and that the ruffians had had ample time to take their precautions? No, no! I was right not to lend myself to a problematical pursuit which Odette’s abductors must have foreseen. It was through Callista that I should get at Odette if there was still time. And there was still time because she was alive.... But Callista had done her utmost to lead the Octopus to believe that Odette was dead.... Ah, the Octopus!”
CHAPTER XIII
EXPLANATIONS
ROULETABILLE HASTENED TO return to the château filled with a feeling of elation which he wished Jean to share. He found him stretched on a sofa in his clothes, sleeping a sleep disturbed by nightmares. He quickly woke hint up.
“Odette is alive. I feel positive of it.”
Jean looked at him haggard-eyed.
“If you are so positive as all that why don’t you bring her back to us?”
Rouletabille received the question without flinching. He sat down beside Jean and took his hands in his.
&n
bsp; “I can see that what de Lauriac said yesterday made a considerable impression on you. At present it is not de Lauriac who is the villain, it is I.... Come, Jean, look me in the face and unburden yourself of everything that weighs on your mind.”
Jean could not repress his emotion.
“It’s true I’m going crazy,” he said. “But you must forgive me. I don’t know which way to turn. I am beset with trouble. I’ve lost my faith in everything.” —
“Do you still believe in love?”
“I suffer too much from it to disbelieve in it,” returned the hapless Jean.
“But do you doubt friendship?” asked Rouletabille in a low voice.
“You must forgive me.” repeated Jean, covering his face with his hands.
“Come, come now, Jean, I know that since our last visit to Lavardens you have entertained hard thoughts of me — hard thoughts which you have striven to dismiss from your mind, but never quite got rid of. And I will tell you why you have never quite got rid of them. It began in Paris. I have very sharp ears which enable me at times tot dispense with eavesdropping, and one day as I was leaving you and Callista I overheard her say: ‘Of course you can’t go to Camargue without Rouletabille. It’s a place which must have a great deal of attraction for young people.’”
“That’s true,” confessed Jean. “Callista never liked you and she did her utmost to make me break with you. I swear that she never succeeded. Shake hands on it.”
They clasped hands.
“Now tell me what you know about Odette,” said Jean with a sigh.
Then Rouletabille told him how he discovered the cave, how he kept watch on it, and how he overheard the conversation which passed between Callista and the Octopus.
Collected Works of Gaston Leroux Page 108