“Your neighbourhood!” I replied. “No thanks! I am not anxious to be visited by Mr. Flow.”
“Don’t be foolish!” he exclaimed. “I am only too glad Mr. Flow paid me a visit. I am well known in Passy now, and as a result I have already had two profitable cases. Mr. Flow did me a big favour without knowing it. Long live Mr. Flow! I’ll buy another bottle to drink his health.”
We opened another bottle of champagne to the health of Mr. Flow. So I had done Gorshman a favour by robbing him? Virtue, thou art but a name! And life would be thoroughly delightful if it were not for Helena....
She was still in Paris and apparently enjoying herself. I had seen her several times in the restaurant. Sir Douglas followed her like her shadow. I had spent a week waiting for a chance to speak to her, roaming in the lobby and outside the entrance, morning, afternoon and evening. She was never alone. But she did not seem discontented. A smile always on her lips! No woman in Paris could have appeared gayer. Wasn’t she with the one man she had ever loved? And didn’t her wealth give her everything she wanted? Why should she not be gay? A palace and a heart — what else? Certainly not the kisses of a little fool who stole imitation jewels!
As for Durin, he was perfect in his rôle of English nobleman. Had I not known what a thorough scoundrel he was, I would have been deceived by his haughty manner and his quiet dignity. I barely recognized him the first time I saw him. His hundred and first mask, which he had put on to stay, was a masterpiece. Yes, they made a royal couple, this thief and his accomplice! And they were happy together. It was enough to see them to realize that love bound them together; it was reflected in their gestures and their glances... when they spoke. What use was it for me to keep watch over them? And what could I do against them? Shoot them down? For at moments their outrageous happiness stirred a bitter hatred in my heart. Surely they had smiled purposely to make me feel my own insignificance.
But this was only a passing mood. After all, I was not a brute, and to kill one’s enemy is not a satisfying vengeance. I must have something more — and better — than that. I must rob them of that complacent gaiety.
“Sir Douglas Sherfield” must be given cause to regret the day that Durin had made a fool of Antonin Rose. And Sir Douglas’s wife must be made to long for her “stupid little Frenchman” and the necklace of real pearls.
I knew them: their souls were stained with mire; they could not be happy without the necklace.
But where had they hidden it? They had no faith in safes or locks — and for good reasons. Hence, they had no doubt invented some original hiding-place, something simple yet baffling.
It would be my task to discover the indiscoverable.
Opening closed doors, walking without noise, forcing drawers, cutting open safes — all that is simple, whatever honest folk may think. All one needs is a brief apprenticeship and a little daring. But this was a different proposition. It was a question of divining the plans of the slipperiest man on earth, who was allied with the most unscrupulous woman one could meet in a lifetime. Would he prove more subtle than I? Or she more deft than I?
I must see her. I would let her believe I was still her dupe, whom she had used as her tool the year before. She should not mistrust me; that was the first point to be gained.
If she could act, I would out-act her. But, in any case, I must see her. I felt sure of myself now. I could no longer be enslaved by a few kisses and a few caresses. No, not even by the most ardent embraces.
I would pretend to be enslaved once more. And when, thanks to her, I held the necklace in my hands, I would hold her, too, as Durin had held her....
Yet, even while my thoughts ran thus, I knew I was deceiving myself. In the depths of my heart I knew that if she should appear suddenly before me and speak as she alone knew how to speak to me, I would be her slave again.
Very well. Let it be so. But I must see her. Not from a distance, as I had seen her the day before, but freely and intimately. To see Helena would be my greatest difficulty. “Sir Douglas” never left her; he did not risk her out of his sight for a moment. He either distrusted her or loved her so deeply he could not endure to be separated from her.
But I knew him too well to believe it was love. I had seen him in prison the year before, when he had calmly despatched me to her side, knowing well what would happen and enjoying my plight. If he never left her, it was because he feared what she might do.
Why had I not thought of this sooner? It seemed so obvious now. A man who had forced his own wife to marry an old man in order to rob him of his great fortune, and who had then sent her a lover and an accomplice in my person — well.... If now he would not let her take a step out of his sight, it was for some reason I did not know, and it had nothing to do with love. What could he fear? I would have him at my mercy if I knew. But I could find out only through Helena. And thus, once more, I came back to the point from which I had started; I must see Helena.
Had they recognized me? Of course they had. They were not capable of forgetting a face — especially mine. After all, I had played a rather important rôle in their lives.
Yet they had passed by my chair a few minutes before without seeming to notice me.
It was in the restaurant of the Hôtel Cambridge, where I had invited Gorshman to have dinner with me, so as to give my spying a more casual air. Suddenly he looked as though he had been stricken with vertigo.
“Oh!... Look!... That woman getting up over there, with that Englishman.”
I didn’t have to look to know that he meant Helena.
“Well?” I asked quietly. “What about her?”
“Look at her, I tell you! She’s coming over this way.”
It was true. Helena passed by our table, close enough for me to have reached out and touched her arm. And Durin — I beg your pardon! Sir Douglas Sherfield — walked behind her. Gorshman gazed at her as if enchanted. I watched them, too, as one who knew them well. But never have I read such total indifference in human eyes.
Deep in my heart I could not help suffering humiliation. So they were too proud to know me, were they? We should see how long this little game would last!
While these reflections were racing through my mind, I heard Gorshman speaking as if from a distance.
“My God, what a woman! Who is she, do you know? She is certainly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She has everything, beauty, elegance, wealth....”
“What do you know about her wealth?”
“Didn’t you notice her pearls?”
“I can’t say I did.”
“They’re worth twenty million if they’re worth a sou. I must find out who she is.”
“She is Madame Flow.”
Gorshman evidently considered my witticism stupid.
He called the head waiter, who was only too pleased to give the desired information.
“Douglas Sherfield?” echoed Gorshman. “Never heard of him. I’ll have to ask Uncle Jeremy. He knows all the English titles by heart.”
“I assure you it’s an alias of Mr. Flow’s.”
“Don’t be a fool,” said Gorshman. “You have had too much to drink. But I must be losing my senses myself. That’s the first time in my life a woman ever made such an impression on me. I feel as if I could commit any folly for her. I begin to understand why men ruin themselves for women. In fact, I have only begun to understand life in the last two minutes.”
“Like a thunderbolt, eh?” I said with a smile.
“Yes,” admitted Gorshman, “a thunderbolt.... I shall dream of her to-night. Didn’t you think she was marvellous?”
Had I dared, I would have answered that Helena must be marvellous indeed if a single glance from her could turn the head of Gorshman, nephew of Jeremy Brenner of the wheat exchange, and the descendant of a long line of ancestors who had been faithful without effort to fat and ugly wives. How could I help being enslaved, if one glance could seduce this plump little egotist and invoke a sympathy in him for the follies of love?
> But he might be angry with me. So I contented myself with replying that I had merely caught a glimpse of her. However, she had struck me as being not so bad.
“Not so bad!” exclaimed Gorshman. “You mean there isn’t another woman in Paris who could compare with her! Not so bad, my God!...”
And he began a canticle in praise of Helena. There must have been some of Solomon’s blood in Gorshman.
He kept it up so long that I began to grow bored, and wished to leave. But he insisted upon treating me to a bottle of champagne rather than let me go. He longed to talk of Helena, and if I left him, to whom could he talk?
It was three in the morning before I got away from him. We were then finishing Gorshman’s fourth bottle, for which he paid with divine indifference. In a mellow voice he was calling on the stars to testify to the beauty of this woman whom he had seen for about half a minute. I put him in a taxi and adjured the driver to take good care of the first of the Gorshmans who had ever fallen in love.
VII.
IN WHICH ANTONIN ROSE REFUSES TO BE OUTWITTED
WHAT TIME WAS it? Still dark? Then why had I suddenly awakened?
Ah, there was a little noise outside my door — a noise I was familiar with. No doubt I made the same kind of noise when I had on my rubber-soled shoes, when my collar was turned up to conceal the whiteness of my shirt, and when I was fumbling with a lock.
A burglar was about to enter my room. There was a joke for you....
I must keep quiet, and let the person enter who was bold enough to break into Mr. Flow’s room. Who was it? It could be only Mr. Flow himself. Or, if you prefer, there was only one person in the world who would think of robbing Antonin Rose, and that was Durin. The game was up. I would kill him like a dog.
I reached for the revolver that lay on the table at the head of my bed and slipped it under the pillow. Then I pretended to be asleep. I would let him enter and start his job, for I was curious to see what his plan was. When I knew, I could shoot; it would be in self-defence. Afterwards, I should merely have to arouse the other tenants and await the arrival of the police. In the morning the papers would congratulate me for my nerve and courage.
The waiting grew long. Apparently my self-locking bolt was giving some trouble to the king of burglars. Undoubtedly his hand had begun to lose its skill.
Ah! the bolt turned. Now — my eyes were shut, my breathing regular.
He had entered the room and closed the door behind him.
And suddenly a perfume that I knew only too well permeated my little bedroom! Ardent lips were pressed against mine....
“Rudy, my darling! Quick! Get up and come with me. You and I are leaving together, for I am yours now for ever. My darling....”
“Oh, Helena! I have—”
“Yes, I know, you can tell me all that later. But you must get up now and get dressed, at once! Hurry! We must start.”
“Where are we going, Helena?”
“Never mind that now. You must dress, and we must get away from here. We may not have more than five minutes. He is probably following me already. Do you understand, my sweet — or are you still asleep? We must get out of this house.”
I did not stir.
“I am not afraid of your Durin,” I said brutally. “I heard you opening the door, Helena, and I thought it was he. Here is what I was waiting to receive him with.” And I showed her the revolver.
“Yes, yes, I know. And so does he. That is why he would not have come.”
“Then why did you just say he was probably coming now, and that perhaps we had only five minutes?”
She wrung her hands in despair.
“Can’t you understand anything, Rudy darling? He couldn’t come a thief, but he can come as a husband looking for his wife. You could have killed him as a burglar, but if he should come as a husband he would kill you.”
This argument struck me forcibly. Seeing me hesitate, she insisted:
“Come, Rudy, I expected better of you than this. I thought you had at last become a man. Quick! What are you waiting for?”
Her tone was curt and imperative. I knew that mood. It was the voice of tragic moments. What was in the wind? Ah, that was what I must find out! I would soon know which of us two she was trying to deceive now; and if it was I — let her beware!
I tumbled out of bed and dressed, aided by Helena, who seemed to know by some marvellous prescience how to find each thing I needed. One after another she handed me my clothes, glancing from moment to moment at the watch on her wrist and repeating:
“Hurry up! hurry up!...”
In three minutes I was ready. Helena herself placed my hat on my head as we ran down the stairs. A taxi was waiting at the door. “Saint Germain-des-Prés,” she told the driver.
I let her take the lead. I wanted to see where she would take me. Ah, fate was dealing generously with me. Yesterday I had been scratching my head for some way to see her. And now she was with me. I would soon know the reason for the close watch Durin kept over her. I might even learn where the real necklace was.
I had behaved like a fool in the past, but it was not too late yet. If I kept my eyes open... and perhaps my finger on the trigger....
For it was to be a great day that was dawning. It would see the first round of my fight to a finish with Durin... and against Helena?
These thoughts had hardly passed through my mind before we reached Saint Germain-des-Prés. She jumped out of the cab and tossed fifty francs to the driver, who disappeared at once for fear she might ask him for change. Hailing another taxi, she gave the driver the address of one of those luxurious and expensive inns that are scattered on the outskirts of the city. Her lips were pressed together, and her eyes as cold as steel. From time to time she turned and looked through the window in the rear to see if we were being followed.
This precaution pleased me and reassured me. The only person who might follow her was Durin. They were enemies, as I had suspected.
Once we were outside of the city she turned again to me. Her face lit up with that evanescent expression that had evoked a cry of adoration the night before from Gorshman. She leaned towards me, her eyes meeting mine gravely.
“My darling,” she said, “you are not what you will be soon.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “What might I be?”
“In a little while you will be able to understand. You detest me now, don’t you? Less than when we started from your room, perhaps, but still you detest me.
I did not deny it. It was a part of my plan not to appear to love her. But she laughed.
“Never mind, Rudy. — You will — have all — the rest of your life to love me. I can wait — an hour — or two — for your smile to come back. And if I smile myself, that is merely a proof of our — happiness — to come. — For I am smiling at the thought — of how — angry my dear — Sir Douglas Sherfield is at this moment.”
I made no answer. Ignoring my studied silence, she continued:
“It was hardly worth his while to keep such a close watch over me. I waited for months, until at last he forgot to keep his eyes on me for two minutes. I escaped at once.... No, Rudy, I can no longer wait, kiss me....”
It was she who devoured my lips — and I found it impossible to maintain my hostile and sulky attitude. My soul melted within me And, during the seven miles we drove to the inn she had chosen, we exchanged but one kiss, a kiss that lasted the whole journey. Had our lips parted, I should have exclaimed:
“I no longer care what you are, Helena! I will follow wherever you lead, to whatever diabolical fate you have once more schemed for me. I love you beyond all good and evil, beyond what is permitted or forbidden. Even if you ask my death, you shall have it.”
The taxi turned into a long drive, lined with a double row of oaks. Helena’s inn was a former château. She slipped from my arms, her divine eyes bathed in deep languor. Her cheeks had paled, and her lips, where the marks of her teeth showed, flamed a rich scarlet.
“Ah, m
y love,” she sighed, “what an exquisite way you have of detesting me!”
What shall I say of the hours that followed? Ecstasy cannot be recalled in words.
I had had memories, and God knows they had tortured me! Dazzling memories; but the reality extinguished them in the incomparable light of Helena’s beauty. In her embraces she displayed at one moment the intensity of a bacchante, the next the delicacy of a virgin. Oh, my love! If ever man could think of himself as loved, I was that man. Was it possible that this was hypocrisy, and that once more she was playing for some unspoken goal?
“We shall never leave each other again,” she said over and over again. “My life of nightmare is over. I waited so long for you! And now you are mine, my darling Rudy!”
“Yes, I am yours, Helena....”
I began, aloud, to outline plans for our future:
“I am not very rich. But I have a cold million laid away. I had intended to return it later, but we shall probably need it. We’ll see about that when the time comes.”
She was gazing at me in bewilderment.
“What are you talking about? A million!... How could we live on one million? You have twenty million, sweet one.”
“Oh, you mean the blue diamond? But it is not worth that much; far from it. Besides, we could never sell it—”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Rudy. I don’t give a snap for that bit of glass.”
Collected Works of Gaston Leroux Page 480