Le dossier no. 113. English

by Emile Gaboriau

  X

  Leaving the little station of Vesinet, we come upon two roads. One, tothe left, macadamized and kept in perfect repair, leads to the village,of which there are glimpses here and there through the trees. The other,newly laid out, and just covered with gravel, leads through the woods.

  Along the latter, which before the lapse of five years will be a busystreet, are built a few houses, hideous in design, and at some distanceapart; rural summer retreats of city merchants, but unoccupied duringthe winter.

  It was at the junction of these two roads that Prosper stopped the hack.

  The driver had gained his hundred francs. The horses were completelyworn out, but they had accomplished all that was expected of them; M.Verduret could distinguish the lamps of a hack similar to the one heoccupied, about fifty yards ahead of him.

  M. Verduret jumped out, and, handing the driver a bank-note, said:

  "Here is what I promised you. Go to the first tavern you find on theright-hand side of the road as you enter the village. If we do not meetyou there in an hour, you are at liberty to return to Paris."

  The driver was overwhelming in his thanks; but neither Prosper nor hisfriend heard them. They had already started up the new road.

  The weather, which had been inclement when they set out, was nowfearful. The rain fell in torrents, and a furious wind howled dismallythrough the dense woods.

  The intense darkness was rendered more dreary by the occasionalglimmer of the lamps at the distant station, which seemed about to beextinguished by every new gust of wind.

  M. Verduret and Prosper had been running along the muddy road for aboutfive minutes, when suddenly the latter stopped and said:

  "This is Raoul's house."

  Before the gate of an isolated house stood the hack which M. Verdurethad followed. Reclining on his seat, wrapped in a thick cloak, was thedriver, who, in spite of the pouring rain, was already asleep, evidentlywaiting for the person whom he had brought to this house a few minutesago.

  M. Verduret pulled his cloak, and said, in a low voice:

  "Wake up, my good man."

  The driver started, and, mechanically gathering his reins, yawned out:

  "I am ready: come on!"

  But when, by the light of the carriage-lamps, he saw two men in thislonely spot, he imagined that they wanted his purse, and perhaps hislife.

  "I am engaged!" he cried out, as he cracked his whip in the air; "I amwaiting here for someone."

  "I know that, you fool," replied M. Verduret, "and only wish to ask youa question, which you can gain five francs by answering. Did you notbring a middle-aged lady here?"

  This question, this promise of five francs, instead of reassuring thecoachman, increased his alarm.

  "I have already told you I am waiting for someone," he said, "and, ifyou don't go away and leave me alone, I will call for help."

  M. Verduret drew back quickly.

  "Come away," he whispered to Prosper, "the cur will do as he says; and,alarm once given, farewell to our projects. We must find some otherentrance than by this gate."

  They then went along the wall surrounding the garden, in search of aplace where it was possible to climb up.

  This was difficult to discover, the wall being twelve feet high, and thenight very dark. Fortunately, M. Verduret was very agile; and, havingdecided upon the spot to be scaled, he drew back a few feet, and makinga sudden spring, seized one of the projecting stones above him, and,drawing himself up by aid of his hands and feet, soon found himself ontop of the wall.

  It was now Prosper's turn to climb up; but, though much younger thanhis companion, he had not his agility and strength, and would never havesucceeded if M. Verduret had not pulled him up, and then helped him downon the other side.

  Once in the garden, M. Verduret looked about him to study the situation.

  The house occupied by M. de Lagors was built in the middle of an immensegarden. It was narrow, two stories high, and with garrets.

  Only one window, in the second story, was lighted.

  "As you have often been here," said M. Verduret, "you must know allabout the arrangement of the house: what room is that where we see thelight?"

  "That is Raoul's bed-chamber."

  "Very good. What rooms are on the first floor?"

  "The kitchen, pantry, billiard-room, and dining-room."

  "And on the floor above?"

  "Two drawing-rooms separated by folding doors, and a library."

  "Where do the servants sleep?"

  "Raoul has none at present. He is waited on by a man and his wife, wholive at Vesinet; they come in the morning, and leave after dinner."

  M. Verduret rubbed his hands gleefully.

  "That suits our plans exactly," he said; "there is nothing to preventour hearing what Raoul has to say to this person who has come from Parisat ten o'clock at night, to see him. Let us go in."

  Prosper seemed averse to this, and said:

  "It is a serious thing for us to do, monsieur."

  "Bless my soul! what else did we come here for? Did you think it wasa pleasure-trip, merely to enjoy this lovely weather?" he said in abantering tone.

  "But we might be discovered."

  "Suppose we are? If the least noise betrays our presence, you have onlyto advance boldly as a friend come to visit a friend, and, finding thedoor open walked in."

  But unfortunately the heavy oak door was locked. M. Verduret shook it invain.

  "How foolish!" he said with vexation, "I ought to have brought myinstruments with me. A common lock which could be opened with a nail,and I have not even a piece of wire!"

  Thinking it useless to attempt the door, he tried successively everywindow on the ground-floor. Alas! each blind was securely fastened onthe inside.

  M. Verduret was provoked. He prowled around the house like a fox arounda hen-coop, seeking an entrance, but finding none. Despairingly he cameback to the spot in front of the house, whence he had the best view ofthe lighted window.

  "If I could only look in," he cried. "Just to think that in there," andhe pointed to the window, "is the solution of the mystery; and we arecut off from it by thirty or forty feet of cursed blank wall!"

  Prosper was more surprised than ever at his companion's strangebehavior. He seemed perfectly at home in this garden; he ran aboutwithout any precaution; so that one would have supposed him accustomedto such expeditions, especially when he spoke of picking the lock ofan occupied house, as if he were talking of opening a snuff-box. Hewas utterly indifferent to the rain and sleet driven in his face by thegusts of wind as he splashed about in the mud trying to find some way ofentrance.

  "I must get a peep into that window," he said, "and I will, cost what itmay!"

  Prosper seemed to suddenly remember something.

  "There is a ladder here," he cried.

  "Why did you not tell me that before? Where is it?"

  "At the end of the garden, under the trees."

  They ran to the spot, and in a few minutes had the ladder standingagainst the wall.

  But to their chagrin they found the ladder six feet too short. Six longfeet of wall between the top of the ladder and the lighted window was avery discouraging sight to Prosper; he exclaimed:

  "We cannot reach it."

  "We _can_ reach it," cried M. Verduret triumphantly.

  And he quickly placed himself a yard off from the house, and, seizingthe ladder, cautiously raised it and rested the bottom round on hisshoulders, at the same time holding the two uprights firmly and steadilywith his hands. The obstacle was overcome.

  "Now mount," he said to his companion.

  Prosper did not hesitate. The enthusiasm of difficulties so skilfullyconquered, and the hope of triumph, gave him a strength and agilitywhich he had never imagined he possessed. He made a sudden spring, and,seizing the lower rounds, quickly climbed up the ladder, which swayedand trembled beneath his weight.

  But he had scarcely looked in the lighted window when he uttered a crywhich was d
rowned in the roaring tempest, and dropped like a log down onthe wet grass, exclaiming:

  "The villain! the villain!"

  With wonderful promptness and vigor M. Verduret laid the ladder on theground, and ran toward Prosper, fearing that he was dead or dangerouslyinjured.

  "What did you see? Are you hurt?" he whispered.

  But Prosper had already risen. Although he had had a violent fall, hewas unhurt; he was in a state when mind governs matter so absolutelythat the body is insensible to pain.

  "I saw," he answered in a hoarse voice, "I saw Madeleine--do youunderstand, Madeleine--in that room, alone with Raoul!"

  M. Verduret was confounded. Was it possible that he, the infallibleexpert, had been mistaken in his deductions?

  He well knew that M. de Lagors's visitor was a woman; but his ownconjectures, and the note which Mme. Gypsy had sent to him at thetavern, had fully assured him that this woman was Mme. Fauvel.

  "You must be mistaken," he said to Prosper.

  "No, monsieur, no. Never could I mistake another for Madeleine. Ah! youwho heard what she said to me yesterday, answer me: was I to expect suchinfamous treason as this? You said to me then, 'She loves you, she lovesyou!' Now do you think she loves me? speak!"

  M. Verduret did not answer. He had first been stupefied by his mistake,and was now racking his brain to discover the cause of it, which wassoon discerned by his penetrating mind.

  "This is the secret discovered by Nina," continued Prosper. "Madeleine,this pure and noble Madeleine, whom I believed to be as immaculate asan angel, is in love with this thief, who has even stolen the name hebears; and I, trusting fool that I was, made this scoundrel my bestfriend. I confided to him all my hopes and fears; and he was her lover!Of course they amused themselves by ridiculing my silly devotion andblind confidence!"

  He stopped, overcome by his violent emotions. Wounded vanity is theworst of miseries. The certainty of having been so shamefully deceivedand betrayed made Prosper almost insane with rage.

  "This is the last humiliation I shall submit to," he fiercely cried. "Itshall not be said that I was coward enough to stand by and let an insultlike this go unpunished."

  He started toward the house; but M. Verduret seized his arm and said:

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Have my revenge! I will break down the door; what do I care for thenoise and scandal, now that I have nothing to lose? I shall not attemptto creep into the house like a thief, but as a master, as one who has aright to enter; as a man who, having received an insult which can onlybe washed out with blood, comes to demand satisfaction."

  "You will do nothing of the sort, Prosper."

  "Who will prevent me?"

  "I will."

  "You? do not hope that you will be able to deter me. I will appearbefore them, put them to the blush, kill them both, then put an endto my own wretched existence. That is what I intend to do, and nothingshall stop me!"

  If M. Verduret had not held Prosper with a vice-like grip, he would haveescaped, and carried out his threat.

  "If you make any noise, Prosper, or raise an alarm, all your hopes areruined."

  "I have no hopes now."

  "Raoul, put on his guard, will escape us, and you will remain dishonoredforever."

  "What difference is it to me?"

  "It makes a great difference to me. I have sworn to prove yourinnocence. A man of your age can easily find a wife, but can neverrestore lustre to a tarnished name. Let nothing interfere with theestablishing of your innocence."

  Genuine passion is uninfluenced by surrounding circumstances. M.Verduret and Prosper stood foot-deep in mud, wet to the skin, the rainpouring down on their heads, and yet seemed in no hurry to end theirdispute.

  "I will be avenged," repeated Prosper with the persistency of a fixedidea, "I will avenge myself."

  "Well, avenge yourself like a man, and not like a child!" said M.Verduret angrily.

  "Monsieur!"

  "Yes, I repeat it, like a child. What will you do after you get intothe house? Have you any arms? No. You rush upon Raoul, and a struggleensues; while you two are fighting, Madeleine jumps in her carriage, anddrives off. What then? Which is the stronger, you or Raoul?"

  Overcome by the sense of his powerlessness, Prosper was silent.

  "And arms would be of no use," continued M. Verduret: "it is fortunateyou have none with you, for it would be very foolish to shoot a man whomyou can send to the galleys."

  "What must I do?"

  "Wait. Vengeance is a delicious fruit, that must ripen in order that wemay fully enjoy it."

  Prosper was unsettled in his resolution; M. Verduret seeing this broughtforth his last and strongest argument.

  "How do we know," he said, "that Mlle. Madeleine is here on her ownaccount? Did we not come to the conclusion that she was sacrificingherself for the benefit of someone else? That superior will whichcompelled her to banish you may have constrained this step to-night."

  That which coincides with our secret wishes is always eagerly welcomed.This supposition, apparently improbable, struck Prosper as possiblytrue.

  "That might be the case," he murmured, "who knows?"

  "I would soon know," said M. Verduret, "if I could see them together inthat room."

  "Will you promise me, monsieur, to tell me the exact truth, all that yousee and hear, no matter how painful it may be for me?"

  "I swear it, upon my word of honor."

  Then, with a strength of which a few minutes before he would not havebelieved himself possessed, Prosper raised the ladder, placed the lastround on his shoulders, and said to M. Verduret:

  "Mount!"

  M. Verduret rapidly ascended the ladder without even shaking it, and hadhis head on a level with the window.

  Prosper had seen but too well. There was Madeleine at this hour of thenight, alone with Raoul de Lagors in his room!

  M. Verduret observed that she still wore her shawl and bonnet.

  She was standing in the middle of the room, talking with greatanimation. Her look and gestures betrayed indignant scorn. There was anexpression of ill-disguised loathing upon her beautiful face.

  Raoul was seated by the fire, stirring up the coals with a pair oftongs. Every now and then, he would shrug his shoulders, like a manresigned to everything he heard, and had no answer, except, "I cannothelp it. I can do nothing for you."

  M. Verdure would willingly have given the diamond ring on his finger tobe able to hear what was said; but the roaring wind completely drownedtheir voices.

  "They are evidently quarrelling," he thought; "but it is not a lovers'quarrel."

  Madeleine continued talking; and it was by closely watching the faceof Lagors, clearly revealed by the lamp on the mantel, that M. Verdurethoped to discover the meaning of the scene before him.

  At one moment Lagors would start and tremble in spite of his apparentindifference; the next, he would strike at the fire with the tongs, asif giving vent to his rage at some reproach uttered by Madeleine.

  Finally Madeleine changed her threats into entreaties, and, clasping herhands, almost fell at his knees.

  He turned away his head, and refused to answer save in monosyllables.

  Several times she turned to leave the room, but each time returned, asif asking a favor, and unable to make up her mind to leave the housetill she had obtained it.

  At last she seemed to have uttered something decisive; for Raoul quicklyrose and opened a desk near the fireplace, from which he took a bundleof papers, and handed them to her.

  "Well," thought M. Verduret, "this looks bad. Can it be a compromisingcorrespondence which the fair one wants to secure?"

  Madeleine took the papers, but was apparently still dissatisfied. Sheagain entreated him to give her something else. Raoul refused; and thenshe threw the papers on the table.

  The papers seemed to puzzle M. Verduret very much, as he gazed at themthrough the window.

  "I am not blind," he said, "and I certainly am not mistaken; thosepaper
s, red, green, and yellow, are pawnbroker's tickets!"

  Madeleine turned over the papers as if looking for some particular ones.She selected three, which she put in her pocket, disdainfully pushingthe others aside.

  She was evidently preparing to take her departure, for she said a fewwords to Raoul, who took up the lamp as if to escort her downstairs.

  There was nothing more for M. Verduret to see. He carefully descendedthe ladder, muttering to himself. "Pawnbroker's tickets! What infamousmystery lies at the bottom of all this?"

  The first thing he did was to remove the ladder.

  Raoul might take it into his head to look around the garden, when hecame to the door with Madeleine, and if he did so the ladder couldscarcely fail to attract his attention.

  M. Verduret and Prosper hastily laid it on the ground, regardless ofthe shrubs and vines they destroyed in doing so, and then concealedthemselves among the trees, whence they could watch at once the frontdoor and the outer gate.

  Madeleine and Raoul appeared in the doorway. Raoul set the lamp on thebottom step, and offered his hand to the girl; but she refused it withhaughty contempt, which somewhat soothed Prosper's lacerated heart.

  This scornful behavior did not, however, seem to surprise or hurtRaoul. He simply answered by an ironical gesture which implied, "As youplease!"

  He followed her to the gate, which he opened and closed after her; thenhe hurried back to the house, while Madeleine's carriage drove rapidlyaway.

  "Now, monsieur," said Prosper, "you must tell me what you saw. Youpromised me the truth no matter how bitter it might be. Speak; I canbear it, be it what it may!"

  "You will only have joy to bear, my friend. Within a month you willbitterly regret your suspicions of to-night. You will blush to thinkthat you ever imagined Mlle. Madeleine to be intimate with a man likeLagors."

  "But, monsieur, appearances----"

  "It is precisely against appearances that we must be on our guard.Always distrust them. A suspicion, false or just, is always based onsomething. But we must not stay here forever; and, as Raoul has fastenedthe gate, we shall have to climb back again."

  "But there is the ladder."

  "Let it stay where it is; as we cannot efface our footprints, he willthink thieves have been trying to get into the house."

  They scaled the wall, and had not walked fifty steps when they heard thenoise of a gate being unlocked. The stood aside and waited; a man soonpassed on his way to the station.

  "That is Raoul," said M. Verduret, "and Joseph will report to us thathe has gone to tell Clameran what has just taken place. If they are onlykind enough to speak French!"

  He walked along quietly for some time, trying to connect the brokenchain of his deductions.

  "How in the deuce," he abruptly asked, "did this Lagors, who is devotedto gay society, come to choose a lonely country house to live in?"

  "I suppose it was because M. Fauvel's villa is only fifteen minutes'ride from here, on the Seine."

  "That accounts for his staying here in the summer; but in winter?"

  "Oh, in winter he has a room at the Hotel du Louvre, and all the yearround keeps an apartment in Paris."

  This did not enlighten M. Verduret much; he hurried his pace.

  "I hope our driver has not gone. We cannot take the train which is aboutto start, because Raoul would see us at the station."

  Although it was more than an hour since M. Verduret and Prosper left thehack at the branch road, they found it waiting for them in front of thetavern.

  The driver could not resist the desire to change his five-franc piece;he had ordered dinner, and, finding his wine very good, was calling formore, when he looked up and saw his employers.

  "Well, you are in a strange state!" he exclaimed.

  Prosper replied that they had gone to see a friend, and, losing theirway, had fallen into a pit; as if there were pits in Vesinet forest.

  "Ah, that is the way you got covered with mud, is it?" exclaimed thedriver, who, though apparently contented with this explanation, stronglysuspected that his two customers had been engaged in some nefarioustransaction.

  This opinion seemed to be entertained by everyone present, for theylooked at Prosper's muddy clothes and then at each other in a knowingway.

  But M. Verduret stopped all comment by saying:

  "Come on."

  "All right, monsieur: get in while I settle my bill; I will be there ina minute."

  The drive back was silent and seemed interminably long. Prosper atfirst tried to draw his strange companion into conversation, but, as hereceived nothing but monosyllables in reply, held his peace for the restof the journey. He was again beginning to feel irritated at the absoluteempire exercised over him by this man.

  Physical discomfort was added to his other troubles. He was stiff andnumb; every bone in him ached with the cold.

  Although mental endurance may be unlimited, bodily strength must in theend give way. A violent effort is always followed by reaction.

  Lying back in a corner of the carriage, with his feet upon the frontseat, M. Verduret seemed to be enjoying a nap; yet he was never morewide awake.

  He was in a perplexed state of mind. This expedition, which, he hadbeen confident, would resolve all his doubts, had only added mystery tomystery. His chain of evidence, which he thought so strongly linked, wascompletely broken.

  For him the facts remained the same, but circumstances had changed. Hecould not imagine what common motive, what moral or material complicity,what influences, could have existed to make the four actors in hisdrama, Mme. Fauvel, Madeleine, Raoul, and Clameran, seem to have thesame object in view.

  He was seeking in his fertile mind, that encyclopaedia of craft andsubtlety, for some combination which would throw light on the problembefore him.

  The midnight bells were ringing when they reached the Archangel, and forthe first time M. Verduret remembered that he had not dined.

  Fortunately Mme. Alexandre was still up, and in the twinkling of an eyehad improvised a tempting supper. It was more than attention, more thanrespect, that she showed her guest. Prosper observed that she gazedadmiringly at M. Verduret all the while he was eating his supper.

  "You will not see me to-morrow," said M. Verduret to Prosper, whenhe had risen to leave the room; "but I will be here about this timeto-morrow night. Perhaps I shall discover what I am seeking at MM.Jandidier's ball."

  Prosper was dumb with astonishment. What! would M. Verduret think ofappearing at a ball given by the wealthiest and most fashionable bankersin Paris? This accounted for his sending to the costumer.

  "Then you are invited to this ball?"

  The expressive eyes of M. Verduret danced with amusement.

  "Not yet," he said, "but I shall be."

  Oh, the inconsistency of the human mind! Prosper was tormented by themost serious preoccupations. He looked sadly around his chamber, and, ashe thought of M. Verduret's projected pleasure at the ball, exclaimed:

  "Ah, how fortunate he is! To-morrow he will have the privilege of seeingMadeleine."