“Dressed as a nurse my lady friend succeeded in obtaining admission to the prison the day before the execution. Her plan was quickly thought out and settled. The officer in command of the firing party was bribed. His flight, and that of Miss Campbell, was assured, and he was to be paid a million francs in Holland. The rifles were to be loaded with blank cartridges. Miss Campbell was to pretend to be dead.
“One detail was overlooked. Miss Campbell did not know how to lie, and when the rifles were discharged, she remained standing.... It has been said that she lacked the strength to drag herself to the place of execution. That is false. She went with a proud bearing, the smile of a martyr on her lips, her eyes raised to Heaven... never believing, alas, in the possibility of the success of our plans and preparations, and, moreover, in no way aiding or abetting them.
“Consequently, after the firing party had discharged their rifles, she did not fall to the ground nor even stagger.
.. Nor did she think that she was really wounded to death until the confederate officer stepped forward, as pale as a ghost, terrified to see her still on her feet, and fired his revolver, charged with blank cartridge, point-blank in her face.
“Now, some one was watching the proceedings, hidden behind the curtain of a window, and that some one was Vice-Admiral von Treischke. He had a feeling that something out of the way was happening, and the man who is still called the Terror of Antwerp and Bruges, rushed into the courtyard, bent over the prostrate form of Miss Campbell, made sure that she had but fainted, and took it upon himself to fire his own revolver so as to kill her, this time, ‘for good.’
“That’s what Von Treischke did.... And many other things besides. So you will understand, Monsieur, that it is particularly painful for me to hear a man of common sense, like yourself, however neutral he may be, raise his voice too often in favour of that miscreant, or even in favour of any member of his family.”
These words were uttered in so lugubrious a tone that I immediately realised that all my hopes were dashed to the ground. With a wild gesture of entreaty, for the mere thought that Amalia might suffer was enough to make me lose my mental equilibrium, I exclaimed:
“You know quite well, Captain, that it is not for him that I am pleading, but for his wife.”
Captain Hyx turned round sharply and I was forced to give way under his fierce gaze as he blazed out:
“And he, Monsieur, did he have pity on women? How do you expect him to understand me if I have pity on his wife.... And I want him — him in particular — to understand me. When he realises that we shan’t hesitate to make an example of his wife, just as a beginning, he will, perhaps, respect other men’s wives.... And when he sees our work here, which is well calculated to be understood by a Hun; when he has satisfied himself of our unlimited power and our system, perhaps as you say and as you think, Hun atrocity will strike its flag. Then we will strike ours, but not before.
“That is what we’ve got to do to make Admiral von Treischke understand, and that is why he is coming here and why he will leave here. I shall have much more faith in his power to convince the German Admiralty after he has seen everything that we have to show him, than in any mission undertaken by his wife, who would not be believed.”
I was staggered, cowed by this new bolt from the blue, notwithstanding that Dolores’ disclosure had in part prepared me for it. Thus this extraordinary man had reached the decision, following his own line of argument, to let the guilty go away again and to keep back and to put to torture the innocent.
I wept like a child... and murmured:
“But... a woman... a woman.... You said yourself just now that it was terrible to make a woman suffer.”
“By the side of Miss Campbell’s portrait, Monsieur, there is the portrait of another woman,” he replied in a low voice which trembled with suppressed fury. “I’m going to tell you what Admiral von Treischke and his men did to that woman....
“The officer whose complicity she had bought, having been caught in the act, betrayed her; that is to say, he gave away the name of the village, near Aerschoot, where Miss Campbell and he were to join her in a motor car, so that, with the necessary disguises and false papers, they might cross the Dutch frontier.... Instead of the expected arrival of Miss Campbell, this lady and the three nurses who had assisted her in this tremendous enterprise, saw Von Treischke, who was the worse for liquor, come up with his men. They realised that all was lost. For that matter, there was no sort of explanation. They were dragged off to an inn, thrown down, and treated like dogs. They witnessed an orgy similar to those of which, alas, so many accounts have reached us. They tried to resist their captors. The scoundrels, mad with rage, took advantage of them, fastened them to a table, and set fire to the inn. They were incited by the recollection of the recent atrocities at Aerschoot. Such were the crimes which, under Admiral von Treischke’s command, followed the assassination of Miss Campbell. Such was the death of the woman whose portrait is behind that curtain. The world does not know of these things which, for many reasons, were carefully suppressed, but a witness reached me with proofs and with the last farewell of... of her who was to die — and such a death! — for Miss Campbell. Then... then I swore to build the Vengeance, which should avenge Miss Campbell and the world... and my wife!”
These last words slipped out as though he were unable to retain them any longer; and they were indeed a revelation to me.... And then, as if ashamed to give way to his grief like an ordinary person, he suddenly dropped my arm and I saw him disappear behind the altar.
I remained alone in the recess; and it was impossible for me not to go over to the unknown portrait, not to lift the covering, not to look... and not to recognise.
“Oh,” I cried. “Can it be true? You... you!”
For the portrait of the woman had disclosed the identity of her husband to me.... That charming face and figure, that youth and beauty, that smiling vivacity, that mind and body in its full bloom, that masterpiece of womankind was well known; and had been reproduced for the delight of the eye in the magazines of the whole world. It was the portrait of a member of one of the oldest and noblest and most illustrious families in France, of Mdlle de N.... who had married fabulous wealth in America in the person of the greatest philanthropist of his age.
Need I say more about her for you to know as much as I did, and for you to understand why, at a time when America was engaged in ceaseless efforts to stop by persuasive means German submarine outrages, this man, this American citizen, put a mask over his face so as not to compromise himself and his countrymen? And why he called himself Captain Hyx, the unknown, and gave his vessel, which was armed for every form of reprisal, a French name, the Vengeance, so as to avenge a Frenchwoman?... And why Admiral von Treischke’s wife had nothing to hope for from him?
As for myself, my curiosity and temerity had sealed my fate.
“Monsieur,” said the Captain, “ you should pray for a short war, for now that you’ve seen and know everything, if it lasts ten years, you will be my guest for ten years.”
Under the repeated blows which misfortune had dealt me, I gave way to a sort of frenzy, and the disorder of my mind was still further increased when Captain Hyx led me almost by force to the altar on which his ledger rested, and I saw him take up the infernal missal into the pages of which I had not been able to glance without a shudder.
It was an album containing photographs, drawings and illustrations; a collection of reproductions, in pictures, of the horrors of the war derived from official sources and officially certified. Each page of the album was divided into two parts. One part was occupied with official pictures; and the other was set aside for the Reply of the Vengeance.
But on some of these pages both parts were filled up; showing that the Vengeance had already made her reply.
The horror of it! I recognised the photographs which had been taken, before my eyes, on the day when I stumbled against a certain railed recess.
Oh Dolores, why did you keep back t
he truth from Gabriel! Why did you try to make him believe that the Captain could be moved by compassion, and was preparing merely the farce of “frightening them”?
And yet you saw him, you too, in the recess of the little chapel. You saw him count his reprisals as a miser counts his gold. How many real revenges were entered up already, not to speak of those that are in preparation and are to surpass the others. Oh Dolores, what frightful tie of dependence or gratitude binds you to Captain Hyx that you, with your gentle voice, should lie to your ardent and anxious lover, and hide from him so carefully, and so boldly, the real extent of this appalling inhumanity?
* * * * *
And the Man turned over the pages, and compelled me to look at them, and when I averted my eyes, held me in front of the book... this Ledger which he had dedicated to God.
And the Man explained the contents while the perspiration broke out on me in great drops. Suddenly he skipped several pages, and I lacked the courage to ask him if, on those pages, the reply of the Vengeance had already been entered. Finally, he took pity on me.
“One more page,” he said, “and it will be the last.”
Then I saw in a drawing the body of Miss Campbell over which a German officer was stooping, a smoking pistol in his hand. And underneath this drawing was the photograph of some mutilated and half-burnt bodies of young women, and here and there their uniforms as nurses could be recognised.
“Monsieur,” said the Man, and these were his last words, “as you may imagine, when the Von Treischke couple are united, we shall have to put some little pictures here. What work for the executioner and the photographer!...”
I fled from the little chapel.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE DOCTOR FONDLES THE BOTTLE OF SCHIEDAM AND FLIRTS WITH THE PHIAL OF COCAINE
HOW TO ESCAPE... How to get away from this terrible submarine prison... How to forestall the abominable tragedy which was in preparation... How to break loose from this nightmare, and thwart the criminal designs of the Man who hoped to convince me and thought for a moment that he had succeeded.... Such were my thoughts.
It was four o’clock in the morning. At the end of that infernal interview I rushed back to my room, or rather to that part of the prison which had been graciously set aside for me; and I threw myself on my bed, but not to close my eyes.
A few quiet knocks sounded on my door. “Who’s there?” I asked, and I recognised the muffled voice of the doctor begging me to let him in, which I did.
Mederic Eristal seemed exceedingly restless and full of importance. He closed the door himself, after listening to the latest sounds which issued from the smoking-room where Red-face von Busch and Green-face von Freemann were certainly ordering their last-but-one bottle of champagne so as to wash down their last-but-one game of bridge.
He sat down by my bedside, and said in a rather thick voice which I at once detected:
“We needn’t worry about Buldeo. I’ve just given him the maximum sleeping draught in a glass of schiedam. By the way,” he added, “you must be careful of Buldeo. For that matter, it was the Captain himself who requested me to say certain things to you... but, of course, I was not to say everything.... This man... the Captain... wants one to like him and deserves that we should do our best for him even against his will. A hint from me should be enough for you. It is in his own interests that we are all working. He mustn’t be allowed to disgrace himself with this trouble over a woman....”
“If I understand you rightly,” I interrupted, so as to make sure that it would be worth while to continue the conversation, “it is a question of seeing that Frau von Treischke comes to no harm.”
“That’s it, exactly... you’ve hit it. Only it’s superfluous to use superfluous words.” So saying he put to his lips a small phial which he at once returned to his pocket. “Please forgive me. I took a small glass of schiedam too much this evening... and it has excited me... and to calm myself I am taking a little cocaine.... Do you mind? There’s nothing like cocaine to soothe the nervous irritation caused by schiedam. And, to tell the truth, I need all my self-possession for what we have to talk about to-night, as you will see for yourself.... I was saying we must spare him this trouble over a woman.... That’s the opinion of Dolores and her fiancé Gabriel, an honourable couple, as you have already, perhaps, been able to see for yourself.”
“Yes, certainly.”
“It is also the opinion of the first officer. You know the man I mean; the one you call the ‘middy’ because of his youth and jovial good temper.... Do you follow me?”
“Yes.... So the ‘middy’ is in it as well?”
“What! He is in it as well.... He is in what as well? You use expressions which take one’s breath away. If it were a question of a plot to overthrow the Spanish throne you couldn’t say more!... He is of our opinion, that’s all, and ready to help us honourably in this honourable business. My dear sir, one mustn’t jumble things up.”
“Of course not,” I hastened to reply, fearing lest I had annoyed him at the wrong moment. “Don’t let us jumble things up.”
“You agree.... You understand what I mean?... I always said that you were a clever chap. But one thing at a time. The Captain is very glad to have you on board. He has asked me to tell you so. The indiscretion which you committed and which he himself, perhaps, brought about — I can admit that much, between ourselves, because as matters at present stand we can both admit many things — places him in the painful necessity of keeping you on board.... That’s an extreme step to take, but he did not hide from you that it would be taken, and though it doesn’t suit you, it suits him wonderfully well. You see, my dear fellow, you are a neutral, and, as it happens, the Captain has always regretted that there was no neutral on the Vengeance capable of describing, with impartiality, all that there is to be seen and heard. You are therefore entirely cut out, my dear fellow, to be this wonderful and sole historian. Henceforward every door, even the most secret, will be open to you. I have been asked to convey this joyful news to you.... No more mystery for you, even in the lowest depths of the hold, even in the engine-room. Ah well, you must be a bit of an engineer.... I understand that the other day you threw a keen glance on the ‘working coils of our reconstituted electricity.’”
“I?” I exclaimed.
“Yes. It did not escape the notice of Chief Electrical Engineer Mabell who passed word to the Captain....”
“I see,” I said. “That accounts for his attitude of suspicion towards me during our tour of the vessel....”
“Well, you can be perfectly satisfied that it doesn’t matter a rap now, seeing that you will be kept here.”
“I would rather die,” I protested.
“Oh, it’s not as bad as all that,” declared the doctor, again putting the phial to his lips with a quick and sudden gesture and then slipping it back again into his pocket.... “I’ve just had a long conversation with Senorita Dolores which modifies the programme as far as you are concerned.... Only I must call your attention to one important point. Senorita Dolores ‘takes everything on herself’... that’s perfectly understood. Whether the affair succeeds or fails, she alone is responsible for it. A woman can always explain things satisfactorily to a man, provided that if the man is Captain Hyx, the woman is not Frau von Treischke.”
“Let’s come to the point,” I said, moving closer to him. “ You say: ‘Whether the affair succeeds or fails.’ I should like to know exactly to what affair you refer, and in what way I am concerned in it.”
He eyed me with a look of severity, and after another manipulation of his phial, made up his mind to speak out.
“It’s about your escape.”
And immediately he placed his finger on his lips and shook his head. I made a sign that I understood him and that he could rely on my discretion.... Then he caught hold of both my hands, and as I began to express my gratitude, he exclaimed:
“Keep that for Senorita Dolores with whom you are to discuss your escape to-morrow.”
&n
bsp; “But can’t we go into some of the details to-night?”
“No... to-morrow with the Senorita. She has a great heart in a charming little body.... She will never approve of the Admiral coming here and going away again as peacefully as he comes, with merely the memory of the martyrdom of his wife and a few of his ‘kamerades.’”
“Of course not... it’s a device of the devil.”
“Hush.... What a fuss you make with your devil!”
“Clever Dolores.”
“Clever Dolores,” chuckled the doctor in a peculiar manner. “Clever Dolores... that remains to be seen.... You must take it or leave it.... Her kindness to you and Frau von Treischke has been greatly helped, believe me, by the Captain’s extraordinary plan.”
“Oh, really.’’
“Certainly.... She is angry with the Captain for not letting her be revenged on the Admiral as she expected. As you may imagine, she hoped to make the brute pay heavily.... Yes, she is very angry with the Captain — especially now that she knows everything from the Irishman, who blurted out the entire programme — for having kept her and Gabriel prisoners so that they should not wreak their vengeance on Admiral von Treischke, for there wouldn’t be much of him left, I can tell you, if they could lay hands on him.”
“Has she suffered through him?” I inquired.
“Do you mean to say you don’t know the story? I thought the Captain told it the other day at dessert, for it’s a story that he loves to tell at dessert.”
“But Senorita Dolores was lunching with us.”
“That accounts for it. He probably thought it useless to irritate her still further against the Admiral, in view of the plan that he had settled on.... But for that plan there wouldn’t be much chance of your escaping. Oh, it’s one of the oddest submarine stories imaginable, I assure you.” (A fresh application of cocaine.)
I could not help saying to myself: How can he drink a full phial of cocaine in this way; and how is it the phial is not yet empty? But I noticed that he placed his tongue over the neck of the bottle, and in fact that he merely took, each time, a “suspicion” of the cocaine.
Collected Works of Gaston Leroux Page 352