Collected Works of Gaston Leroux

by Gaston Leroux

  “Babazouk was telling the truth. It’s a fact he’s going to the wedding.”

  Now they crowded the door and windows. They all wanted to see Titin. Hands were outstretched to him. “Oh, Titin — there’s plenty of time, my boy.”

  “The bride hasn’t come yet.”

  “Come and have a drink.”

  “Come in, hang it all, and let’s have a look at you. The Prince will be jealous.”

  “We didn’t expect to see you.”

  “We were waiting for Hardigras and here’s Titin.”

  “Have you any news of Hardigras?”

  “You call him, Giaousé. He’ll come in to a certainty.” On hearing Giaousé’s name Titin looked round, smiled at everybody, consulted his watch, a fine silver watch with a chain that hung from his breast pocket beside a white embroidered handkerchief — a final touch of smartness — and made up his mind to enter.

  A closed car filled with unknown persons whose countenances were not that of wedding guests pulled up immediately behind him, and M. Ordinal alighted. He had abandoned any attempt at disguise. He entered the restaurant after Titin heedless of the difficulties of elbowing himself through and the agony which he suffered when his corns were trampled on.

  Titin as usual shook hands with Giaousé, whom he loved as a brother, though Giaousé was far from possessing his talkative disposition and philosophical way of looking at things. Giaousé was by nature somewhat reserved, never, displaying any great jubilation, and remaining silent in his troubles. Without demur, he always did as Titin directed. It was in the early days when he received a good drubbing from Titin. After that he had accepted Titin’s ascendency as inevitable, and whenever he expressed an opinion he never forgot to add: “Don’t you think so, Titin?” When Titin thought otherwise, Giaousé thought otherwise, too....

  Nathalie and Giaousé obviously were none too happy together. It is possible that Titin was the cause of their conjugal differences. But who was to blame? At first Nathalie had often shown jealousy of the friendship existing between the two young men. She despised her husband for passively accepting the subordinate place. He rebuked her sharply: “You must try to be as fond of Titin as I am,” he said. And she did try. Possibly she became a little fonder of him than Giaousé had bargained for. Women can never observe the happy medium!...

  “Isn’t Nathalie here?” asked Titin.

  “No,” returned Giaousé. “She’s been in the dumps since the other day. Perhaps you know what’s the matter with her?”

  “One must be very clever to know what’s the matter with a woman,” said Titin.

  Meantime they ordered a drink for him and congratulated him on his appearance. He looked very handsome in his new clothes which threw into relief his clean-cut, robust figure. It was as though a bronze statue of the best Florentine period, a Benvenuto Cellini, had been dressed by a first-class tailor from Bella Nissa; that is to say, by a good craftsman who knows what is suitable for a son of the azure coast. His lady friends took advantage of Nathalie’s absence to straighten his tie for him. But their little attentions veiled a crafty desire to know what was to be known.

  “Toinetta will be very pleased to see you. Oh, if I were only in her place,” said one.

  “What if she were to introduce you to the Mayor and say: ‘This is the man I want to marry,’” asked another. “I hear she is going to see Hardigras.”

  “Well, she’ll see Titin. What more can she want?”

  “She will have a surprise, perhaps.”

  “We certainly have had a surprise.”

  Titin allowed them to talk. He noticed behind him M. Ordinal, who suddenly found himself hemmed in by Pistafun and his three friends, unable to escape from the stronghold. Titin helped him to get clear and M. Ordinal expressed his thanks.

  “Where’s M. Souques?” asked Titin. “Isn’t he with you? Is the dear man ill or dead?”

  “Don’t speak of him,” returned M. Ordinal. “He is impossible. I’ve broken off all relations with him. We work on our own now.”

  “I see that,” said Titin, smiling.

  “And so to-day he’s going to stick to the Town Hall and I’m going to stick to you on account of this Hardigras business, you understand.”

  M. Ordinal laughed.

  “I should think I did understand! You seem much more cheerful now, M. Ordinal. If we’ve got to be together in future I shall be all the better pleased you know.”

  “It was that awful M. Souques who made me feel miserable. What a comfort it is to both of us to be rid of him, M. Titin.”

  “You can see for yourself how delighted I am.”

  “To say nothing of Souques being as stubborn as a mule. He is still in the same mind about Hardigras.”

  “Ah, yes. He is really a bigger fool than I thought. And what’s your opinion?”

  “Oh, I remember the little chat we had in Fred’s bar, in the Passage Négrin. Don’t you remember it?”

  “Very faintly.”

  “What! Don’t you remember suggesting our joining forces to arrest Hardigras?”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” returned Titin.

  “Well, I’m agreeable to make this treaty of alliance, and to remain together until we’ve got the better of this rogue who now lays claim to prevent Mlle. Agagnosc’s marriage.”

  “Yes, yes. In fact I’ve heard something about it. But do you suppose there’s anything serious in the story?”

  “I hope for Hardigras’s sake there’s nothing in it,” returned M. Ordinal, “for between ourselves, if he makes a move he’s done to a turn this time.”

  “Oh, he’s done!” said Titin, so comically that those round him, taking good care not to lose a word of the conversation, burst out laughing.

  “He’s done to a turn,” repeated M. Ordinal with greater emphasis, casting a keen look round.

  “In what sauce?”

  “The sauce of hard labor.”

  A silence ensued. Every eye was fixed on Titin. He took M. Ordinal’s arm.

  “Meanwhile, let’s go to the wedding. Make way, gentlemen. Don’t you see that M. Ordinal is now my best friend? I won’t leave him either!”

  Just then a low rumble came from the street and cries went up:

  “Here she comes! Here she comes!”

  It was, in fact, the bride, in a magnificent car bedecked with orange blossoms, the windows open, with M. Supia seated beside her, clad in dress clothes, looking like an undertaker’s man. A car followed containing plain clothes policemen with M. Souques next to the chauffeur. Then came other cars bringing the bridesmaids, the best man, and the family.

  “You saw his hatchet face,” exclaimed Anais, who had climbed on Tantifla’s shoulder. “Anyone would think he was going to a funeral.”

  They all noticed how thin Antoinette looked.

  “Poor girl,” exclaimed Ciaosa, “if she is waiting for Hardigras to save her from this business. She has every reason to pull a long face. He’s in no hurry.”

  When Antoinette alighted from the car there was complete silence. M. Supia quickly led her across the courtyard, and then to the room in which the civil ceremony was to take place. The room soon filled up. Prince Hippothadee at once came to her. Looking round, he caught sight of Titin standing on a bench. He whispered to Toinetta who, turning her head, gave Titin a slight nod and then began to talk to Hippothadee in the friendliest manner. Her laugh even could be heard — a rather nervous laugh.

  The Prince appeared to be in high glee. He assumed an air, and indeed his admirably cut frock coat showed off to advantage his tall stature and the outlines of a figure still supple for a man soon to pass his half century. When he was not talking to Antoinette he gazed on either side, smiling at some of the guests, and bowing to others. The attendants scarcely knew which way to turn. The secretaries had placed the papers on the Mayor’s desk. They were waiting only for the mayor.

  A clerk came up and whispered to the chief secretary. The secretary, in turn, told the family that the
y would have to wait another quarter of an hour as the Mayor — whom the Deputy Mayor, some minutes before had gone to fetch — had been obliged to attend an important meeting of stockholders. It was a meeting at which matters of great interest to the town were to be decided. He had telephoned an apology. The Prince was greatly distressed by the delay.

  Soon, however, good humor was restored.... But the Mayor still failed to put in an appearance. Then as the passage in the center between the benches remained free, guarded at one end by M. Souques and at the other by M. Ordinal clinging to Titin, the guests began to move about and hold a reception.

  The Prince shook hands with several guests, passing from group to group, and so came near Titin.

  “How are you, M. Titin? I’m glad you didn’t forget my invitation. Mlle. Agagnosc and I are much obliged to you.”

  “It’s a very fine show,” returned Titin. “I took good care not to miss it. Please offer Mlle. Agagnosc my congratulations.”

  “But go and talk to her yourself,” said the Prince with cool audacity, looking at Titin with an air at once so quizzical and superior that he bitterly regretted allowing him to escape when he had had him under his knee.

  “Offer Mlle. Agagnosc my congratulations! I shall see her like everyone else in the vestry,” returned Titin in his most innocent manner.

  “That is no reason why you should not go to her now. She will be delighted.”

  Titin needed no pressing and he followed the Prince, saying to M. Ordinal:

  “Whatever you do, don’t leave me!”

  Mlle. Agagnosc greeted Titin in a manner of unembarrassed cordiality.

  “Ah, there you are, Titin! So you decided to come?”

  “The Prince had the kindness to invite me,” returned Titin as he shook hands.

  “He was quite right. I can’t tell you how pleased I am. And yet, you see Titin, what a joke it is. I should never have dared to ask you.”

  “Why not, Toinetta?”

  “Pah, I can’t tell you,” she said with a slight grimace. “You are such a rum fellow. One tries to please you but doesn’t always succeed. Anyway, are you glad you came?”

  “I am glad to see you looking happy, Toinetta.... But I — I don’t know if I ought to go on calling you Toinetta.”

  “Don’t you worry. The Prince is very broadminded. And though I am to be a princess I needn’t forget my old playmate. You ask me if I am happy. Very happy, And I want everyone else to be happy, too.”

  “I’m sorry for disturbing you. I will leave you to your happiness. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye.... Oh, one moment, I hear everywhere that you are on excellent terms with Hardigras. Now there’s a man who is having a game at everyone’s expense, you know! Why does he want to prevent my marriage? For all that, I wouldn’t mind making his acquaintance. Tell him from me that he is a wicked old humbug.”

  “If only to deliver your message I’ll manage to see him one day,” said Titin, and he strode back quietly, nonchalantly, to his place.

  The company were still waiting for the Mayor and were beginning to think that he was “overdoing” it. Moreover, the public in the streets and neighboring cafés were of the same opinion. What was the reason for such an exceptionally protracted ceremony? At what hour in these circumstances would the party reach St. Réparate Church?

  At Camousse’s café the Mayor was blamed for giving way to his talent for speechmaking. Suddenly the rumor spread, no one knew how, that the Mayor had not yet arrived and that the wedding party was growing anxious, particularly as on investigation, they failed to discover whence had come the telephone message supposed to explain his absence.

  They exchanged glances, and a few minutes later as the commotion outside grew more and more disturbing, began to smile. They grasped the meaning of it. And there was an outburst of laughter. So this was Hardigras’s unexpected trick! He had captured the mayor. Well, it was not such a bad move after all.

  “It’s a bit risky what he has done,” said Gamba Secca. “And besides, what’s the good of it? It can’t prevent the marriage. It will be easy to find a deputy.”

  Le Budeu, who had been making inquiries, took it upon himself to answer. The First Deputy had disappeared at the same time as the Mayor. As to the other two they had been hastily sent for....

  An increasing tumult came from the crowd standing by the railings in MacMahon Square and from the Rue St. Francis de Paul.... It was at this moment that Titin reached Camousse’s bar, still holding M. Ordinal’s arm.

  “You quite understand, I refuse to leave you. I am not anxious to be mixed up in an affair of this sort. Between ourselves, our Hardigras is going a little too far.”

  Nevertheless the crowd laughed as he made his way through. When he entered Camousse’s café, he was besieged with questions:

  “What does the bride say? What does Toinetta say?”

  “Well, she says she isn’t married, and she cried.”

  “That’s not true, Titin. I hear she is treating the whole thing as a joke,” said one.

  “Ask M. Ordinal,” returned Titin.

  But M. Ordinal had vanished.

  Just then there was a startling new arrival. It was the bride’s chauffeur and his satellite, the footman, tired of waiting, without a drink, for a bride who failed to come.

  “No one knows how long it’s going to last,” he said. “It seems that the second deputy left for Paris last night and the third is in Cannes. They are now telephoning to Cannes.”

  The delight became a delirium. The two men were invited to have a drink. Moreover, they seemed no strangers to the place and on entering had shaken hands with Titin. But who would not shake hands with Titin?

  Some minutes later an extraordinary commotion occurred in the street. The lines of policemen had great difficulty in holding their ground against the pressure of the crowd eager for a closer view of the guests as they came out, for they were leaving the Town Hall. The civil ceremony had in fact been postponed until the afternoon, and the religious ceremony until the next morning.

  Each person in the crowd wished to see the faces of the Supias, and of Hippothadee, and in particular of how Toinetta was taking it. She was not long in coming and looked more cheerful on leaving than on arriving. In short, the failure of the ceremony had kindled a roguish light in her eyes which, during the last few hours, had not been there. The chauffeur grasped the wheel and made ready to drive off. The footman, as stiff as a poker, opened the car door. Antoinette stepped in. Was it due to some act of carelessness on the man’s part. The door was immediately closed.

  M. Supia, taken aback, tried to utter a protest. But he was too late. At that very moment the crowd broke through the barrier of policeman on all sides. A number of merry hot-heads, such as are invariably present at exceptional public functions, on the lookout for an opportunity to amuse themselves by creating a little confusion in the best arrangements, broke the ranks with irresistible force and gathered round the cars.

  Tantifla, Bouta, Aiguardente, and Pistafun were conspicuous among the others for the energy with which they hustled those who opposed them. Meantime the chauffeur drove through the tumult. Then, when he raised his head, they noticed that he wore under his cap a mask which was not unfamiliar in Nice. And a shout went up: “Hardigras! Hardigras!”

  Yes, it was Hardigras carrying off the bride! The crowd opened out before him as if at the word of command, and when he swept through, closed up forming a barrier which MM. Souques and Ordinal’s police cars — the latter without M. Ordinal — were unable to break through. They would have had to run down the crowd. When the square was at last cleared the bride’s car and Hardigras were far away.... The car was found during the afternoon in a picturesque but somewhat secluded part of the country, called Dark Valley. The bride, of course, was not in it.

  It was then that the Mayor and his deputy returned to the town after an excellent lunch at a country inn on the banks of the Loup, where they had been driven against their will in a hired
car ordered the night before. At that period the Mayor of Nice had no official car.

  Any spirit of resistance that they might have felt, cooled on seeing the fighting attitude of two skillfully disguised men who crowded into the car behind him. Moreover, their protests ceased altogether when they were assured that it was merely a question of doing justice to a splendid blue salmon. The inn which had been unoccupied for some time seemed to have opened specially for them to close its doors again on the morrow.

  M. Ordinal, too, was released from the room in Camousse’s restaurant in which Pistafun had locked him.... But he was furious. That was because he had not the same reason for consolation as the Mayor and his deputy.

  But no trace of the bride could be discovered. So daring an act of abduction, so cynical an outrage on the liberty of the chief magistrates of the town, was bound to set in motion the entire apparatus of the law. A beginning was made by putting Pistafun under lock and key. Then Titin, who had quietly returned to La Fourca, was requested by the District Commissary of Police to appear before him next day.

  One of the most terrible tragedies in judicial annals was about to unfold itself.

  CHAPTER XIII

  IN WHICH THE BRIDE IS FOUND

  WHEN TITIN RECEIVED the request to present himself at the chief police station there was no lack of counselors to endeavor to persuade him of the risk involved in such a step. But he refused to listen to them. Even Mme. Bibi’s entreaties fell on deaf ears.

  Gamba Secca, however, ventured to say:

  “Take care! They have already arrested Pistafun. If Giaousé Babazouk were here, he would know how to persuade you.”

  Then a voice which was that of Nathalie said not without bitterness:

  “Yes, but Giaousé is not here. Titin lent him to Hardigras to look after Toinetta. A nice man for the job, upon my word! So go to the police station Titin, and whatever happens you’ve only brought it on yourself.”

  “I shall go all the easier in my mind for if anything happens to me, I am pretty sure Giaousé will manage to get me out of it.”

  “Of course and we shall all be with him.”