Collected Works of Gaston Leroux

by Gaston Leroux

  “Forgive me for alluding to family differences which I am the first to wish to see composed, for a doctor is almost like a father confessor. I had been attending the Dowager Marchioness for nearly a year when I found that I had to leave this place for a while; an event which coincided, I understand, with your arrival home. I had become almost a friend of the family, and I received certain confidences from my patient which assisted me, on more than one occasion, in diagnosing her illness. One’s mental condition, in fact, often reacts upon one’s physical condition...

  “Your mother, monsieur le Marquis, has suffered more than I can say from the unfortunate relations which existed between you both. If you will allow me, I will take it upon myself, as opportunity offers, to bring about a reconciliation between you. I know that such is your dearest wish, and you must not read into my suggestion. which in other circumstances I should myself characterise as presumptuous, anything more than what it is in reality, namely, a desire to serve you and to bring back to health a patient for whom I have always felt not less respect than admiration...

  “Women, monsieur le Marquis, are better than men are. They know how to forgive. I need look no further as a proof of that, than to your own wonderful wife. Nevertheless when they reach a certain age, they are not free from some degree of small-mindedness which, like resentment, is the characteristic of all old people. Leave her to me. Don’t let us be in a hurry. To-day she turned you out of doors; soon she will open her arms to you.”

  “If you only knew, dear, how good Dr. Walter is” exclaimed Cecily who had returned a moment before and heard the doctor’s last few words.

  Chéri-Bibi himself seemed to have lost the power of speech. The man who used such extraordinary language, had shown so much unaffected sincerity, and appeared so completely intent upon what he said, of what he thought it right as a friend and a doctor to say, that a strange and intolerable doubt began to enter the Marquis’s mind. Nevertheless it was the Kanaka right enough. He could have sworn to it.

  But what was the meaning of this farce? A few minutes earlier, he was alone with him. How was it, if he were the Kanaka, that he did not say bluntly: “You have recognised me. Now to business” or something to that effect?

  For after all the Kanaka would not have taken the trouble to come and practise his art on the du Touchais family for the pleasure of doling out his medicines. Yet there was nothing, nothing in his words, or in the expression of his face, or in his general demeanour, nothing in his eyes which were fixed, calmly and frankly, on the ex-convict; nothing in all this which could raise the suspicion that a man was in that room who had something very particular to say to the Marquis du Touchais — or Chéri-Bibi.

  Dr. Walter bent over the paper and his pen travelled swiftly. When he finished writing out his prescription, he handed it to Cecily and told her that he would call again during the evening. Then he rose, bowed to the Marchioness, and held out his hand to the Marquis. Chéri-Bibi took the proffered hand and gave him a penetrating glance. The Kanaka did not move a muscle of his face, and withdrawing his hand without appearing to notice anything unusual in Chéri-Bibi’s manner, took his leave.

  “What is the matter dear?” asked Cecily. “The scene with your mother upset you I suppose... But tell me... You don’t say a word... You alarm me.”

  “Let me be my dear Cecily. Do let me be quiet... I was really very much affected by it...”

  He opened the window.

  “I must have some air.”

  In reality he leant out of the window to catch another glimpse of that incredible spectre. Could he doubt his own intelligence? Was he losing his reason? Was he in very truth ill?

  He saw the doctor below meet the parish priest whom Sister St. Mary of the Angels had been sent to fetch, and he heard him say cheerfully:

  “You won’t be wanted this time your Reverence. Luckily I was ahead of you. There’s no need to excite our dear patient, so allow me to see you home.”

  Thereupon he took the priest’s arm and led him away.

  “It’s he, it’s he!” Chéri-Bibi repeated to himself. “It’s absolutely his walk. There are no two men like that. It’s he.”

  “What do you think of Dr. Walter?” asked Cecily in her soft voice.

  He turned round.

  “Eh?... What’s that?” he stammered. “Dr. Walter?.. Oh all right, all right.”

  And suddenly, violently, he caught her in his arms and strained her fiercely to him, against his throbbing heart, and covered her face with wild kisses, while Cecily startled by this sudden outburst tried in vain to release herself from his frenzied grasp.

  “My wife, my wife” he cried in a choking voice, “ Yon belong to me... me, I love you. I worship you. Oh let them come here. Let any of them come and try to take you from me. I’ll kill them... I’ll kill them like dogs. I’ll cut them in pieces... My Cecily... my darling Cecily. Don’t be afraid... believe me... Don’t be afraid. I am with you. I love you. They can do nothing against such love... nothing, nothing...”

  And as Cecily grew more and more distraught as she saw him in a condition of mind which nothing seemed to justify, she tried to understand it all, and asked him in terrified accents to explain; and suddenly becoming calm once more, he said to her:

  “Forgive me... I don’t know what I’m saying... I don’t know what I’m doing... I love you so!”

  And he lay back in a chair.

  “My poor Maxime what is the matter? It’s dreadful to see you in this state” said Cecily who could not keep back her tears, “It’s your mother’s unkindness which must have affected you like this.”

  “Yes, yes... It’s my mother... That’s it... My mother. You understand, you understand everything. You divine everything. You are so good. To think that my mother should turn me away from her death bed. Have you ever heard of such a thing? It’s awful.”

  “Awful” agreed Cecily, “She is really too bad. And yet I told her how good you were to me, how much you loved me, and how well you were behaving to both of us. It’s incredible that she should continue to treat you in this way. And yet there were times when I really thought that she would give way to me, and ask me to bring you to her. I have often seen her cry when I spoke of you, and I fancied that the estrangement was all over and done with, when suddenly she would yield to her anger, become as cold as stone, and refuse to allow your name to be mentioned... Listen, Maxime, I’ll tell you something, something that I was keeping to myself, because in reality it’s my own idea and I’m not certain of anything.”

  “What is it dear? Tell me” said Chéri-Bibi who wondered what was coming next, for during the last few minutes he had lost his nerve.

  “You remember Rose?”

  “Yes, her companion. What about her?”

  “Well I think she dislikes you.”

  “That’s quite natural if she is devoted to her mistress. I haven’t behaved well to my mother.”

  “Oh there must be some other reason. I have often tried to get her on my side, to make her understand how pleased I should be if she’d join her endeavours to mine to obtain your mother’s forgiveness for you. She always received my proposal with coldness and disfavour. I feel that she hates you. It is she who must destroy all my efforts with your mother. What have you done to her? Did you make an enemy of her in the old days?”

  “Upon my soul I couldn’t tell you” returned Chéri-Bibi. “Rose meant hardly anything to me, but it is quite possible. Try to tax your own recollection. There are so many blanks in my memory since my illness.”

  “But dear, I don’t know anything. After all I’m telling you what is in my mind and what I fancy that I’ve noticed.”

  But Chéri-Bibi had something more to do at that moment than to concern himself with Rose. He stood up and heaved a deep sigh.

  “Rose is of no consequence. What she thinks of me or what she would like to do doesn’t matter in the least. Only one thing is serious and important, and that is your love for me. Do you love me Cecily?” />
  “I do indeed.”

  Their Ups met, and for the time Chéri-Bibi forgot all about the terrible Kanaka.

  Nevertheless the doctor’s form came back to him and obsessed him when on leaving Cecily, who was obliged to remain with the Dowager Marchioness, he was once more on the road which Dr. Walter had traversed a little while before. The evening was soft and mild; a fragrant air swept the meadows; the music of the sea breaking on the beach was a caress. An atmosphere of happiness enshrouded him. How could he think that this glad hour was but the calm before the storm?

  The Kanaka! But the Kanaka was dead; his death was vouched for by the authorities. The man whom he had met was not and could not be anything but a spurious likeness of him. Resemblances of that character had created a stir in the world before now, and were the cause of incredible miscarriages of justice. Many voices, too, were alike, possessing the same resonance and deceiving those who heard them. He had been drivelling like a child.

  These thoughts reassured him to some extent. All the same he felt very uneasy, and when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps behind him he gave a start. He recognised the Dodger who came up to him in great excitement. He had the foreboding that a new calamity was about to fall on him. He was soon informed. The Dodger did not wait to take breath but blurted out at him:

  “Monsieur le Marquis, I’ve just met Little Buddha.” They exchanged a glance as though they had seen a ghost. They were back again, both of them, to their worst days when they were engaged in sinister adventures against the law, when the police were on their track, and when an irresistible fate drove them into a position from which there was no escape. Little Buddha! After what had come to pass with the enigmatic Dr. Walter, Chéri-Bibi felt indeed stricken. He reeled.

  He was no longer valiant as of old. He no longer defied the Heavens. He no longer worked himself up into a delirium with his misfortunes, to fling himself on every obstacle reckless of the victims that he left in his path. In those days he had nothing to lose. But now...!”

  With weary limbs he sat down on a bank by the roadside. He held his head between his hands and listened as the Dodger told his story. When it was finished he sat for a while without speaking. He was taking time to think, or at least he was endeavouring to concentrate his thoughts on the two facts: Little Buddha had arrived in Dieppe, and the Kanaka had taken up his abode in Puys.

  For he now felt that he had in fact met the Kanaka. The Kanaka and Little Buddha were obviously in league. What were they about to attempt against him? If he could only satisfy them both at one stroke and hear no more of them! He would not begrudge the price that he would have to pay.

  But that was a hope with which it would be foolhardy to delude himself. Had not the Kanaka come to hunt him out at Dieppe a few months after he had received a million francs? So what did it all mean?... It meant that the whole business was to begin over again.

  Well, there was one solution of the problem which he would not have hesitated to employ in the old days. Those two persons stood in his path, and he had but to make away with them. Obviously it would be easy work for Chéri-Bibi, but after a year in which he had lived a respectable life with Cecily the thought of murder was repugnant to the Marquis du Touchais... Blood now terrified him.. Heavens! he had felt so safe, so secure... Was it indeed possible that he would have to set to work again?

  In a voice of infinite weariness which betrayed the confusion of his mind and his lack of spirit to take up again the everlasting struggle, he recounted to the Dodger the extraordinary apparition of the Kanaka in the guise of Dr. Walter.

  “Oh” exclaimed the Dodger, “then it was the Kanaka who passed me in his buggy. Well, he let fly with his tongue and I said to myself: ‘Hullo I know that voice.’”

  “Yes it was his voice wasn’t it?” said Chéri-Bibi with an air of hopelessness. “It was the Kanaka’s voice.”

  “Yes undoubtedly it was his voice. What did he say to you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean, nothing? Were other people present?”

  “I was alone with him for a minute. He merely spoke of my mother’s health.”

  “Didn’t he make any sign?”

  “None.”

  “But what did you do, what did you say monsieur le Marquis?”

  “I did nothing and I said nothing.”

  “I can’t understand it. Did you leave him without a word?”

  “Without a word.”

  “That was not very clever of you.”

  “I’ll explain Dodger. I was so taken aback when I saw him that I doubted whether it was he, and even now there are moments when I wonder if it is he.”

  “That being so, you are sure of nothing. After all it may not be he.”

  “Since you tell me that you’ve met Little Buddha, my opinion is that they came here together. It’s the Kanaka who brought him you see.”

  “Little Buddha came here, perhaps, to worm a little money out of the Marquis, or simply to fix up a business and settle down as he declares. Little Buddha doesn’t know our secret, and if the Kanaka is really dead nothing is lost... You may perhaps have fancied that it was the Kanaka. Personally I should like to have a look at the fellow.”

  “He went off with the parish priest. They must have taken leave of each other on the hill and Dr. Walter probably went home.”

  “Where does he five?”

  “Cecily pointed out his house to me one day when we were walking in the sunk road. It’s a little house standing in its own ground and is called “The Fronds.”

  “I know where it is. I say, monsieur le Marquis, I’ll make a little tour of the place. We must know where we stand. Anything is better than this uncertainty. Don’t you think so?”

  “I do” agreed the other. “But if you ask me it’s the Kanaka right enough.”

  “Excuse me, monsieur le Marquis, you know nothing. Sometimes you say one thing and sometimes you say another, You are a complete wreck. It hurts me to see you. Leave it to me. Where shall I join you again?”

  “I won’t leave this place” groaned Chéri-Bibi, like a little child.

  The Dodger started off at a rapid pace and cut across country to reach the sunk road, and he soon disappeared from view.

  Chéri-Bibi went through a terrible half-hour.

  At length the Dodger came back.

  “Well?” said the Marquis with visible anxiety.

  “Well, it is not the Kanaka. Oh! I’m giving you my opinion. Something was wrong with our sight! Of course it was easy to be mistaken. He has a look about him of the Kanaka, but the Kanaka was never like that, and this man hasn’t altered for a long time. I’ve seen a portrait of him in his youth. He looked then as he looks now. His voice? Well yes, the voice is like the Kanaka’s but he never had that slight English accent. And then, you know, I’ve had a chat with him. Besides you must remember that Dr. Walter took up his residence here some two years ago. At that time if the Kanaka was not dead, devil take it, he was still in the East.”

  “You’re right, Hilaire. I am still the Marquis” said Chéri-Bibi making an effort to hold himself erect for his body had been drooping just before.

  “More than ever” declared the Dodger. “And Little Buddha is not the man to frighten us. He knows nothing. If the sight of him gets on our nerves, we can always make arrangements for him to go and hang himself elsewhere.”

  “I’ll leave that to you.”

  “Rely on me monsieur le Marquis. He won’t trouble you but his presence will annoy me. I shall go back to the restaurant in the harbour and I’ll soon find out what that fathead is driving at.”

  They returned to the Villa on the Cliff thinking to themselves that they had little cause for alarm, but nevertheless neither of them slept soundly.

  CHAPTER X

  A FAMILY LUNCH

  LIFE DURING THE following days appeared to have resumed its normal course. The Dowager Marchioness grew better day by day. Cecily was radiant, and Chéri-Bibi after his sudden
outburst of passion increasingly revealed himself as the devoted lover. He was doing his utmost to drive out the thought that Dr. Walter might not be Dr. Walter, when one fine morning Cecily told him that the doctor was coming to lunch with them.

  The Dodger was not present. For the last few days little had been seen of him. He was keeping watch on the restaurant in the harbour.

  Chéri-Bibi did not display any great satisfaction when Cecily told him. The doctor might very well not be the Kanaka, but he sufficiently resembled him to bring back to the sham Marquis’s mind a period of his life which he would fain have forgotten.

  “You don’t seem very pleased to hear of my invitation” said Cecily. “Have you anything against our friend?” She called the doctor “our friend.”

  “No, no, dearest, but I’m so glad to be alone with you and the children that when you tell me that a stranger will be present, it is never good news to me.”

  “Dr. Walter is not a stranger to us, and we must at least behave politely to him. I have invited his wife as well. You don’t mind that I hope.”

  “His wife? So the doctor is married?”

  “Oh yes, she had returned from the Indies. I don’t know her. I didn’t even know that she had arrived home. When I invited the doctor to lunch, he begged to be excused because it so happened that his wife was at “The Fronds.” I couldn’t do other than ask him to bring her with him, and say that I should be charmed to make her acquaintance.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “With me?... Nothing.”

  “You look quite upset.”

  “Upset? Why should I be? Not a bit of it... I don’t object to the doctor and his wife. After all we can’t be unsociable.”

  “Of course we can’t dear.” There was a ring at the garden gate. “Ah, here they are I believe.”

  “Very well, I’ll go and make myself presentable and have a look at Jacques, and be with you presently.”