Collected Works of Gaston Leroux

by Gaston Leroux

  I was going away — leaving Paris. I didn’t want to go to Deauville in my car. I’d look around for a nice little inn where I could rest... and forget, perhaps.

  For Helena and Durin would soon be going to Scotland. They no longer had anything to fear from Victor or from Sir Philip. Why shouldn’t I try to find, somewhere, another Clotilde who would marry me? Take up my honest profession again? Find clients and plenty of business? Renounce all thought of the necklace and the past? I might become a celebrated lawyer. And nobody would ever think that the famous Mr. Flow and the distinguished lawyer, Antonin Rose, were one and the same man.

  Yes, I must find another Clotilde.

  My mind was made up. Enough of this filthy life! Honesty, peace of mind, quiet — that was what I needed. I would go down into Brittany. If that didn’t please me I’d drive on down into the Basque country and visit the Riviera.

  XII.

  IN WHICH CLOTILDE SEEMS LESS CONTEMPTIBLE

  I DIDN’T WANT to go to Deauville, nor to Lion-by-the-Sea. So turning my back on Helena, Durin, Clotilde, and all the past and present Skarletts, I left for the Basque country, for Biarritz and Bayonne. I wanted to rest.

  I went to a good hotel — the best; I didn’t have to think of money now. No one paid the slightest attention to an unknown named Antonin Rose. It was very dull. I began as usual to think of Helena. Twenty times a day I wondered where she was, what she was doing. If she was thinking of me.

  Every man needs a sentimental interest — I, too. Otherwise I should become introspective. If some adventure didn’t present itself within a couple of days, I’d speed to Deauville. And that was just what I wanted to avoid.

  The first day dragged along; the second lagged until evening. At dinner I was seated at my little corner table when the door opened and two young women came in. Two tall young women, very elegantly dressed, whom the waiter seated at a large table. Clotilde with Natalie!

  Wealth had enhanced Clotilde’s beauty. She used to be pretty, now she was radiant. Even the cold Natalie now seemed desirable.

  The moment I recognized them I dropped my head.

  Somehow it annoyed me to see two girls, once poor, and former neighbours of Mr. Antonin Rose, make such a triumphal entrance into the dining-room of a luxurious hotel.

  Surely I would see Clotilde’s husband enter at any moment, Sir Philip Skarlett, with his fishy eyes, the tall, aristocratic, dried-up, dull Sir Philip. He exasperated me — that man. I’d eat quickly and leave, so I’d not have to look at him.

  How awkward! They were seated facing me, not ten feet away. If I raised my eyes I would have to look at them and bow.

  Why should I be so sulky? What had they done to me? Evidently it annoyed me that they were happy. Yes, I seemed to hold a grudge against Clotilde for being so quickly consoled when she found I was cold to her. Men like to have the women they neglect suffer. Clotilde had not suffered.

  I felt a shyness creeping over me. I dared not lift my eyes. I finished dinner and rose to go. Just then Clotilde fixed those beautiful, grey, serious eyes upon me. I bowed, but passed on without speaking. Natalie also looked at me. She had become more beautiful.... I might consider her.... But I couldn’t see myself as Sir Philip’s brother-in-law.

  That reminded me; where was he this evening? Why wasn’t he there?

  * * * * *

  I was leaving the hotel for a walk along the beach. Suddenly a shadow crossed my path.

  “Antonin!”

  I stopped short and hesitated a moment. Clotilde laid her hand on my arm.

  “Antonin, is it absolutely necessary that you avoid an old friend?”

  “Yes, Clotilde, absolutely necessary.”

  “You must tell me why. You know me well enough to understand that I would want to know. Let’s walk on a little.”

  I let her lead me off towards the beach, and as we strolled along I said:

  “I am leaving to-morrow morning. I came down for a little rest. Why are you here? I had resolved never to see you again.”

  “Never see me again? Why?”

  “Don’t ask that.”

  “But I do ask. Do I seem so contemptible to you, now that... I don’t know why you reproach me so. Is it because of my marriage? If so, you are responsible. Didn’t you do everything you could to discourage my hopes? Didn’t you refuse to understand what I tried so hard to tell you? You could have asked me to wait twenty years; you know I would have waited gladly.”

  “I didn’t say I was reproaching you for anything. I don’t. But I can’t help thinking.... No, I don’t wish to say anything. Let us part, Clotilde. We are just two unhappy souls. For every piece of good luck I’ve had, bad luck has come with it. Did you know that recently I inherited a small legacy....”

  “I know. Yes, I know.”

  “How could you know that? We haven’t met for some time, and I didn’t tell my janitress.”

  Thus I pretended not to know she was listening the other day, on the other side of the partition, to what I was telling my good friends, Sir Douglas Sherfield and his noble wife. For a moment she was embarrassed.

  “When I saw you here to-night in this fine hotel, dressed so well..

  “Yes, a little legacy, and my first thought was to fly to you.... But let’s not speak of that, since the irreparable has happened. I merely want to say that I’ll never go again to Lion-by-the-Sea, and I would not have spoken to-night if I could have avoided it.... But since chance has decided otherwise, help me, Clotilde.”

  “How, Antonin?”

  “To suffer less. During the last two months I’ve tried to console myself in various ways — travel, cards, anything. Nothing helps. I’ve come to think I must marry — not for love, of course, although I would try to make the woman who would marry me happy. Like you, I am an orphan. Someone must find me a good wife. Will you try, Clotilde?”

  Her arm trembled on mine. “I?”

  “You will not? May I confide in you?” I said in a hushed voice. “Don’t you think that Natalie... if she didn’t hate me?... but she does.”

  “Natalie hate you? How can you think that? Not a day passes that she doesn’t speak of you.”

  I was not very much surprised at that confession.

  “She deserves to be loved, and not to have to content herself with the ruins of a heart. Moreover, now she’s Sir Philip Skarlett’s sister-in-law; but, best of all, she’s your sister, Clotilde.

  “No, that might be a barrier between you and me... that’s foolish; it’s best for me to go out of your life, never see you again; nothing matters... as long as you are happy.”

  “Happy?” said Clotilde.

  “What, Clotilde, aren’t you happy?”

  “If you mean to have married a rich man, a man all attention, much in love — if that is happiness... Let’s not talk of that,” she sighed. “I was foolish; I didn’t know what I was doing. It’s so hard always to be calculating; to be in constant need of money. If I had only known what money leads to!... And then, you didn’t want me... you don’t know,” she went on in a bitter voice, “you don’t know what that name means — a Skarlett.”

  I recalled what Helena had said: “Those tall, thin Presbyterians, with their pale, cruel eyes! What a beast may be aroused in them!” Destiny is strange! It had been decreed that I should listen to the confidences of two wives of Skarletts. Both said the same thing, and each time I was moved by the same pity....

  Timidly, I pressed Clotilde’s arm.

  “My dear, why have we never spoken of this before? I who loved you so much.”

  And in that heavenly night that seemed laden with all the perfumes of Eden, I began to talk. I did not know whether the words that came to my lips were really from the depths of my soul. But as I talked, I built up an ideal love which was supposed to have possessed me the first day I ever saw Clotilde. I recalled my anguish, my impatience, my suffering, and I wound up by believing that I really had experienced them. Leaning closer, she listened; she put back her head
as if to offer me the kiss she had dreamed of all through her virginal nights. I took it; and, overcome, she murmured: “Bliss... the only bliss....”

  When I left Clotilde, my one thought was to rescue her from Sir Philip Skarlett. With her, I would live the life for which I was born, simple, modest, filled with love. —

  But I had only forty-eight hours in which to decide. Sir Philip was due to arrive the day after to-morrow. He was at some business conference somewhere.

  In the foyer of the hotel I was waiting for Clotilde and Natalie. The latter arrived first. I went forward to greet her. She looked very charming as she smiled — not at all like the girl who three months ago was pounding away at a typewriter in her little room on the top floor.

  “You’ll have to put up with my company while we wait for Clotilde. She’ll not be here for ten minutes yet.”

  She didn’t believe me when I assured her it was not a sacrifice.

  “Don’t try to deceive me,” she said, looking squarely at me. “You love Clotilde, not me. You would rather that she were in my place. We don’t have to talk nonsense. We have something serious to say to each other. Let’s sit down.”

  She sank into a big armchair, and waved me to a chair facing her.

  “You are ruining Clotilde’s future and mine,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “I?”

  “Yes, you. Clotilde had only to see you to be terribly upset. This morning, if I had listened to her, I would have telegraphed Sir Philip to give her up — that she did not love him and was going away. Last night Clotilde said she needed a little fresh air and went out. We’ll skip all that. Perhaps it is regrettable that she did not marry you. But the fact remains that she did marry someone else. I have made up my mind that she is to remain with him and not to do anything she will regret. I’m not sure that you understand me, Mr. Antonin?” I wanted to be discreet.

  “You are quite right,” I said. “But why should she wish to leave her husband?”

  “Because you love Clotilde and she loves you. You must leave at once. If you do not, she will not be able to endure Sir Philip; and she must.”

  “But she hates him.”

  “Oh, you’re pretty well informed of the situation, aren’t you, Mr. Antonin?”

  I bit my lips.

  “I do not know,” she went on, “whether you think my sister should keep on living in the rue des Bernardins and being a very competent employee of the Bank of Amedee & Company. Nor do I know whether you think I should spend my days typing the drivel of unsuccessful writers. But I do know I’m tired of it and that my sister has a right to live her own life. She has met an old man who is just as repulsive to me as he is to you. But he is sixty years old and has a fortune of untold millions. He will not live for ever. When he is dead, Clotilde will be free to love you, if such is still your pleasure. She will be very rich and so will I.” Her way of looking at the situation shocked and disgusted me. Natalie was aware of my feelings, but she went on undisturbed.

  “Yes, I know.... If I had time I would clothe my thoughts more delicately. But Clotilde will walk in now any moment. Here, in three words, is what I ask you. Will you go?”

  I looked at her boldly.

  “And if I say no?”

  “Well, Mr. Antonin, if you say no I’ll ask another question.”

  “Will you tell me what it is?”

  “Certainly. Would you tell me which uncle left you your legacy?”

  I was silent.

  “You see,” she went on, “that it is better not to go too far with me. I’m sure I don’t need to say anything more or to annoy you with any more questions.”

  I collected myself, and managed to say somewhat jokingly:

  “Go on; give me a little trouble, please, Natalie dear.”

  “Well, then, I’ll ask you why you always carry the key to your door when it is so easy to open it without a key?”

  “Prankishness, Natalie dear, mere prankishness. You can’t understand that, can you?”

  “Don’t laugh, Mr. Antonin. You exasperate me — more than usual. One more question: do you by chance know why the famous Mr. Flow ceased his activities the very day he stole Lady Helena Sheffield’s necklace?”

  “So you, too, believe in Mr. Flow?” I said, quite feelingly.

  “I? Not at all. I know a man named Victor, who had been a hairdresser. He was good enough to repeat to me certain confidences he had once made to Sir Philip Skarlett. You may imagine how captivated I was.”

  “Yes, but Sir Philip is no longer interested.”

  “Oh, he has some doubts which resulted from a dinner given one night at Deauville. But it wouldn’t be difficult to make him certain again. For instance, suppose that some morning Clotilde were to leave him. Well, he would cease to be under her influence. She has convinced him that Victor is an impostor. But if she herself deceives him, he would certainly disbelieve her. Sir Philip loves vengeance.”

  Fine! Again I was beaten. If I eloped with Clotilde I knew what to expect — a nice little arrest and conviction. It was impossible for Natalie to speak more clearly. Clotilde had quieted Sir Philip’s suspicions. But if Clotilde left him, his suspicion would be reborn. Hence, should I leave Clotilde?

  “Natalie, I’m going. But Clotilde will suffer.”

  A serious expression came into her eyes.

  “She will suffer, I know. But in our family we know how to suffer.”

  “You have never known the pangs of love, Natalie?”

  My question startled her. Her eyes shone.

  “Do you want to hear the whole story? Here it is — for two years I have loved a man I have watched degenerate until now he is a crook; moreover, he despises me; he is the lover of a creature who should be hung. I adore him; I think only of him, and I would give myself to him if he wanted me. There is only one thing I cannot sacrifice to him; that is Clotilde’s happiness. He may count on me for everything else.”

  “Natalie!”

  “Keep quiet! You’re only going to lie to me, and here comes Clotilde.”

  She entered, and her lovely face bore the mark of last night’s emotions. But she smiled at me.

  “Do you know, my dear,” Natalie opened the conversation, “what Mr. Antonin has just been saying? He has received a telegram and has to leave to-night.”

  “He is leaving?” Clotilde asked wistfully.

  Her pallor stirred me. I looked at Natalie as if to say, “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” But she was perfectly impassive.

  “You are leaving?” Clotilde repeated. “You will go to Paris? Good. I am going back with you. We have some things to do in Paris, haven’t we, Natalie?” Natalie looked at me meaningly and I succeeded in saying:

  “No, I’m not going to Paris from here. But I’ll be back the day after to-morrow. Then, if you wish, I’ll drive you to Paris in my new car.”

  “Meanwhile,” Natalie added quickly, “you’re going to drive us to Bayonne, or to Bordeaux, perhaps?” Beyond Bayonne I found a delightful inn, where we lunched leisurely. Clotilde kept her eyes on me tenderly, and I even thought she was going to kiss me in front of Natalie. Natalie was very tactful. On some pretext or other she left us alone for a short quarter of an hour.

  “You will never come back to me,” Clotilde said. “I feel sure you will never come back.”

  “What a foolish idea! I’ll be back day after to-morrow. Have you no faith in me? I love you, my dear, and I shall always love you!”

  She shook her head.

  “You can’t tell; you don’t know. Take me with you, please take me!”

  I had to reason with her gently. What was I to do? Natalie had a hold on me; as Helena had... anyone who had learned Mr. Flow’s secret had me in his power. I was his slave.... I must leave and never come back again. I would return to the creature Natalie said “should be hung.”

  While I was coming to this decision my expression must have been lugubrious. Clotilde leaned towards me and placed her cool hands on my forehead and eyes.
“Don’t be sad, sweetheart. It can’t be possible that we shall not meet again some day, when both of us are free. And when that day comes I shall be yours for ever and ever.”

  Thus she tried to console me... and Natalie coming back, looked at us with a sort of joy mingled with sadness.

  What should I do? When I thought of becoming an honest man again and renouncing Helena, I realized I couldn’t do it. And yet perhaps, if I went back to Paris and waited for Helena, it would be my salvation. Who knows but that some day, with her, I could start life anew in some distant part of the world!

  I was a fool to think of a conventional marriage. All my life I would be haunted by the fear of being caught. I was not going to play the rôle of a runaway criminal, of a Jean Valjean always threatened, in spite of his repentance, by some Javert. Back to Paris, back to the gang, Durin’s gang — and Helena!

  Once back in Paris I rang up Gorshman to tell him all about the fine performance of my new car — how much gas she used; her average speed, her pick-up on the hills. He asked me to dine with him at the Cambridge. Before hanging up the receiver, he said, “I’ve got a piece of news for you! She’s coming this evening.”

  “Who?”

  “Lady Sherfield. I’ve made a friend of the Cambridge doom’ n. He tells me they’re expecting her “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you? And I thought you were cured.”

  “Cured! Is one ever cured of love? But I’ll be able to tell you better this evening; also whether my uncle’s advice has had any effect. When I heard she was coming, it was as though someone had hit me between the eyes.”

  Just as though one could forget Helena! Uncle Jeremy Brenner had only to see her to fall in love himself. Wouldn’t it be a good joke to bring them together. Suppose I spoke about that to Gorshman to-night! I dressed, and hid the beautiful pearls in my clothing. A knock at the door! No one but Helena knocked that way — a furtive rap, loud enough to be heard if one was awake, soft enough not to wake one if asleep. The old habit of an hotel mouse...., I opened the door. She looked at me quickly, then fell into my arms.