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Collected Works of Gaston Leroux

Page 416

by Gaston Leroux

“And suppose I tell you that Mlle. Agagnosc loves me?” Titin gave a start; but he managed to calm himself and said in a hoarse voice:

  “I should not believe you.”

  “You would make a mistake, for I assure you we are the most devoted of engaged couples. Now, monsieur, I’ve had enough of this. You came here to kill me. Kill me or let me go and dress. Mlle. Agagnosc and the worthy Mme. Supia and her charming daughter are expecting me. I have to take them to a reception....”

  Titin rose to his feet. He had regained his composure. “This marriage shall not take place. I have an account to settle with the Transylvanians. I shall tell the world what sort of man a Hippothadee is, and put such a blot on your escutcheon and” — he added with a smile expressive of all the sarcasm that only an aristocrat could put into a smile— “and mine that M. Supia himself will shrink from the scandal of giving you his ward.”

  “That’s a fine idea,” cried the Prince. “Tell the story of my brother’s rascality. I cannot offer you too much encouragement. Prince Marie will only get his deserts. I shall myself be even with him! M. Supia, so far from refusing to give me his ward, will understand why I had to leave my country. Prince Marie has stripped me of everything. He is the worst of tyrants. He terrorizes the king himself. Avenge Transylvania! Avenge me, M. Titin! Oh, you scarcely realized the truth of what you said a moment ago — that we might still be good friends. I am your man. I won’t keep you to-day because, as I told you, the ladies are waiting for me. But you know where to find me. And whenever you require a little information for your purposes...”

  “Enough of this patter,” shouted Titin, wishing he had strangled the Prince before hearing the nature of his relationship with his third father. “This is my last word — if you marry Mlle. Agagnosc...”

  “If I marry Mlle. Agagnosc as everything leads me to hope, I will invite you to the wedding.”

  “I shall be there,” said Titin.

  CHAPTER XII

  HARDIGRAS AT THE WEDDING

  TITIN DE BASTARDON’S confusion was unmistakable. His expedition in search of his three fathers had failed to yield the result that he had a right to expect either because he had intended to avenge his mother or because he had counted upon some fortunate change in his circumstances which would assist him in his relations with Mlle. Agagnosc....

  After his interview with Hippothadee he thought it well to obtain more definite particulars about him. The evidence that he was thus able to gather was quite enough to set Toinetta in revolt against marriage with the Prince. Titin had done his utmost to approach her. Unluckily for him, the “tyrant” on the one hand, and the Prince on the other, had anticipated his intention of seeing her privately, and they had taken their precautions accordingly. Toinetta was never left to herself. When she went out, it was for a drive and she invariably had a suitable companion with her.

  The night still remained open to him. Nor could he have forgotten that it was possible to climb over Bella Nissa’s roofs to Toinetta’s balcony. Unfortunately since Carnival day the roofs were so closely guarded day and night that Hardigras himself had given up the attempt to mount them.

  It was all the more regrettable inasmuch as Titin could imagine Antoinette lingering more than once at her window in the expectation of seeing him again. As she certainly had not been informed of the precautions that were being taken, she must have concluded from Titin’s failure to appear that he had made up his mind to say no more to her.... Thus the days sped by and the date of the wedding drew near.

  While making his inquiries about Prince Vladimir Hippothadee, Titin had gathered some valuable information concerning Prince Marie. He learnt that no better nor more honorable man was to be met in the kingdom; that after sowing his wild oats he had wisely settled down and was regarded at Court as a model of all the virtues. He had displayed unbounded patience and generosity towards his brother. Moreover, he had continued to supply the exile, whose property was confiscated, with an allowance sufficient for any self-respecting man.

  “Unless Prince Marie is a hypocrite,” said Titin to himself, “he will not fail to take the opportunity of repairing as far as may be his youthful sin — sin did I say, I mean crime.” And he wrote:

  “To His Highness Prince Marie Hippothadee of Transylvania,

  Mostaregevo.

  Your Highness.

  I have been told, that you possess too high a character to have forgotten a certain Carnival night in Nice — a night which you spent as a very young man in a terrible drinking bout in company with MM. Menica Gianelli and Noré Papajeudi, and which must have left in your mind some feeling of remorse.

  I need not remind you of poor Tina and the calamity that befell her as the result of that evening. I learn that you left Nice the following week, and it may be that you are unaware that poor Tina lost her reason after giving birth to a son whom everybody here calls the Son of Carnival. Tina has just died. She was my mother and you are one of my three fathers. The first is almost penniless and is on my hands. The second has entreated me not to destroy his home by creating a scandal from which innocent persons would suffer. As a last resource I appeal to you, who can do a great deal for me....

  If you consent to what I am about to ask, you will never hear of me again.

  Your brother, sire, who is a despicable creature, has succeeded in worming himself into the society of an honorable family, and is engaged to marry Mlle. Antoinette Agagnosc whom I love, though she is not aware of the fact, for a man like myself, poor and without a name, must not speak of love to a rich young girl whom he cannot marry. But I would willingly lay down my life to prevent this marriage. Mlle. Agagnosc cannot be happy with so infamous a person as Vladimir Hippothadee. Intervene, sire, to the extent of your power. Do not allow this rascally deed to be done, and you will have no further duty towards me.”

  He signed his letter Titin le Bastardon, Son of Carnival, care of Mme. Bibi, La Fourca, Nova, Alpes Maritimes, France. Then after posting it he took the train to La Fourca, When Mme. Bibi caught sight of him she ran to the roadside with her goats as though she had been waiting for him since he left her. She kissed him with tears of joy and then gazing at him with the bright, piercing eyes of an old woman, asked:

  “Are you satisfied, Titin?”

  “No, I am not satisfied. What’s more, if you wish to please me you will take me to my mother’s grave.”

  They set out together. The mound was bedecked with flowers, and in the center Mme. Bibi had placed a cross which bore simply one word: Tina.

  Titin opened the knife with which he had intended to kill his three fathers and carved under Tina’s name: Mother of Titin le Bastardon.

  Then he closed his knife, put it back in his pocket and knelt down:

  “Mother,” he said, “while you were going on your last journey I was making a useless one. Could I allow my first father, Menica, poor fellow, whom divine justice has reduced to beggary, to starve to death? And this big, wretched Noré who has always suffered from remorse and been so good to me, could I inflict shame and despair to his board at the moment when his daughters are about to be married, bringing down in sorrow to the grave poor Mme. Papajeudi, who believes in him as she believes in her religion? Could I do these things? No, you would not have wished it — you who have suffered so much for others.

  So much for my first and second fathers! As to the third, nothing would have prevented me from sending him to the devil as was his due — but he was not my father! Mother, speak to me, for I am listening.”

  When he rose to his feet he said to Mme. Bibi:

  “She has spoken to me. She said to me: ‘Why are you dissatisfied, Titin? I am satisfied. You are a good son.’”

  Still Titin did not recover his natural high spirits until some days later, and then he seemed to reach the height of that transcendent philosophy whence he was able to control, by making fun of everything, his successive moods of restlessness. He laughed and chaffed and joked with his old friends of La Fourca. Never had there been
such keen contests at bowls. Pistafun, Aiguardente, Bouta, Tantifla, Giaousé were delighted to perceive that he was his old self again.

  As to Nathalie, she exerted all her ingenuity in dress to appear more comely in his eyes. She had a scene with Giaousé because she was now wearing silk stockings every day. But nothing in the way of adornment was too good where Titin was concerned.

  Nevertheless this flame of gayety which glowed within Titin seemed all the more extraordinary to some of them; for they knew how deeply mortified he was at Toinetta’s coming marriage. The event was to take place the following Monday....

  Nathalie told Titin one day that he had been extremely patient with her, rejecting but weakly — possibly because his thoughts were elsewhere — her advances which she made no attempt to dissemble.

  “Are you going to the wedding, Titin?”

  “Of course I shall go as I’ve been invited,” he returned smiling.

  “Good gracious me! You’ve been invited to Toinetta’s wedding! Who invited you? Not Supia, that’s very certain.”

  “Oh, no, not Supia as you say,” said Titin, bursting out laughing. “It was the Prince who asked me.”

  “The Prince — that low hound — invited you?”

  “Don’t speak ill of a man who is going to marry our dear Toinetta.”

  “Well, I can hardly believe my ears, upon my word. And so you intend to go?”

  “Of course I shall go, and you ought to go, too. And Giaousé and all our friends even though they haven’t been asked. Why, if there’s no room for them in the procession, there’ll be plenty of room outside. It seems it’s going to be a gorgeous affair. I shall be curious to see it, you know.”

  “I can’t get over it,” said Nathalie, “but all the same I’m very glad you’re accepting the inevitable.”

  “Oh, what I said about it was on Toinetta’s account. Once being assured of her willingness to marry him, I’m not the one to stand in the way.”

  “Oh, Titin, I must give you a kiss.”

  “If you like, but you’ll end by making our dear Giaousé jealous.... Giaousé, come here a moment. Your wife wants to kiss me.”

  “What a fool she is,” said Giaousé.

  She gave him a black look.

  “Are you jealous, Giaousé?” she asked.

  “No need to be jealous of women!” said Babazouk, in a tone of contempt.

  “Then I needn’t worry,” said Nathalie, giving Titin a resounding kiss on the cheek.

  “You don’t know what I was saying,” Titin explained to Giaousé. “I was telling her we all ought to go to Toinetta’s wedding.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” agreed Babazouk, “especially as it’s rumored there’ll be rather queer doings. Hardigras, I hear, has warned Supia that he won’t allow him to marry Toinetta to Hippothadee.”

  “That devil of a Hardigras!” said Titin, laughing.

  “But what can it matter to him whether Toinetta marries the Prince or anyone else?”

  “I didn’t ask him!” grinned Giaousé.... “It’s just to annoy Supia, I suppose.”

  “Who told you so?”

  “Pistafun. Hullo, here he is! I say, Pistafun.”

  Pistafun came up rolling a cigarette. He seemed to be chuckling over some thought which he kept to himself.

  “How are you, Titin?” he said, “I am very glad to see you. They’re dull without you in the Place d’Arson, you know.”

  “I say, Pistafun, is it true what Giaousé tells us that Hardigras has made up his mind to prevent Toinetta’s marriage with the Prince?”

  Pistafun darted a glance at Giaousé and then at Titin and seated himself opposite Nathalie.

  “It is true,” he said. “He won’t have it. He has written to the ‘tyrant’ — several times in fact. Bezaudin the Commissary of Police has the letters now, and believe me, they’ve taken their precautions.”

  “How did you get to hear all this?” asked Titin.

  “From Tantifla, who heard it from Le Budeu while playing cards at Caramagna’s after dinner. He got it from Gamba Secca who heard it from the milliner in the Rue Lépaute. She had it from Mme. Supia’s cook, to whom she sells hats, and the cook got it direct from Mlle. Agagnosc. So you see, Titin, we couldn’t have better authority! Why, everyone in the town knows it! It’s the one subject of gossip. And you can imagine how amused they are about it already. There’ll be a great crush outside the Town Hall and St. Réparte Church to a certainty.”

  “And what does Mlle. Antoinette say about it all?” asked Titin.

  “It seems she’s like a little madcap. She says that for ever so long she’s been wanting to make Hardigras’s acquaintance. When she was trying on her bride’s dress she made them laugh: ‘Make me look beautiful,’ she said to the dressmakers. ‘I hear Hardigras has invited himself to my wedding. I want to dazzle him....”

  “We’ll all go to the wedding,” said Titin.

  M. Supia was anxious for the mayor himself to marry his ward, and had been obliged to postpone the date of the civil ceremony to the day fixed for the religious service; consequently the marriage before the mayor and in church were both to take place on the Monday.

  As early as nine o’clock in the morning the neighborhood of the Town Hall was overrun by an eager multitude. The event of the day was not so much the marriage as the intervention of Hardigras, foretold by all and sundry. Crowds had flocked in from the surrounding country. The throng reached as far as the railings of MacMahon Square, whence the eye could take in the whole of the Rue de l’Hotel de Ville.

  Units of both the local and state police were placed on duty to insure the safety of the wedding party. Moreover, the Supias’ residence in the Place de Palais was not more than a hundred yards from the Town Hall — a distance which the bride and bridegroom and their friends were to traverse in motor cars. It was whispered that a number of plain clothes policemen were dispersed over the adjoining streets. Moreover, MM. Souques and Ordinal, each in a car with his own men, would precede and follow the procession.

  All kinds of rumors were rife. Some gossips alleged that Hardigras would know how to play a last trick on Supia in his own particular fashion, in spite of every precaution. Others again diffidently and prudently suggested that Hardigras was going too far in interfering in a family matter which, after all, was no business of his. Rut opinions were divided.

  It was well known that Toinetta was in the Supias’ hands and was not a free agent: was in fact their prisoner, their victim, marrying only to get away from them. She was unaware, poor thing, that she was escaping one evil to fall into a worse one, for no fate on earth could be more hateful than that which was to unite her to an individual with Prince Hippothadee’s past.... Since she had suffered so much she should have displayed a little more courage. There was no lack of worth-while young men in the district; and she would have been happy with any one of them, dear little Toinetta, as everyone wished her to be. Such was the opinion of the worthy people of Nice. And it was obviously the opinion also of the hotheaded Titin le Bastardon, that one of them in particular would be sure to provide her with happiness.

  At Camousse’s restaurant in the Rue de l’Hotel de Ville, from which the entire proceedings could be witnessed, the customers winked whenever Titin’s name was mentioned: “No, he is not here,” said one. “He has other things to do.” What was he doing? What scheme had he prepared? No one knew. But, it was bound to be something out of the ordinary.

  The advent through the yard of Gamba Secca and Le Budeu, followed by Giaousé Babazouk, was greeted with cheers, the significance of which was not to be mistaken. But, a greater demonstration burst forth when the formidable quartette, Pistafun, Aiguardente, Tony Bouta, and Tantifla came in. The company shouted; stamped their feet. The newcomers appeared in no way conscious of what was happening.... They were there as sight-seers like everybody else.

  “Where’s Titin?” was asked.

  “Titin! We haven’t seen him for several days,” was the reply
with a look of surprise that excited general merriment. “We should be very glad to have news of him. Isn’t he here?”

  The laughter broke forth louder than ever. No, no, he wasn’t there!

  “He was invited to the wedding,” said Giaousé. “He’ll be with the wedding party.”

  There was a veritable explosion.

  “Who invited him?”

  “The Prince. It seems they’re great pals.”

  They held their sides. Indeed, if the day continued like this they would die of laughter.

  The guests driving direct to the Town Hall began to arrive in motor cars or carriages. Some were pointed out by name and discussed. A few good-natured jests were indulged in, more particularly in criticizing the ladies’ dresses, for they had attired themselves in all their finery and were blazing with jewels. Indeed, the gentle folks of Nice cut a very respectable figure. Young girls in white frocks listened smilingly to young men in evening dress. As the guests alighted outside the Town Hall gates, their cars and carriages were parked in the Rue St. Francis de Paul.

  The police service was admirably arranged. Prince Hippothadee’s friends in the foreign colony appeared in uniform, accompanied by ladies clad in the latest fashion. The Comtesse d’Azila, more flaxen and berouged than ever, was observed inquiring after the health of sundry respectable dowagers. She seemed more at ease than anyone on this day which would see the last of her best hopes. They could not help admiring her courage. Her friends displayed some pride in her: “She is, indeed, a great lady,” they said.

  The entire party had but one thought — Hardigras!

  Something like stupefaction arose at Camousse’s when the company saw Titin le Bastardon stalking up the middle of the road alone wearing a flower in his buttonhole, a new black hat a little on one side, a dark blue suit with a low cut waistcoat, an embroidered shirt, white tie, and patent leather boots, his hands carelessly stuck in his pockets.

  “Hullo! There he is!... It’s Titin.... How well he looks!”

 

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