Secret des Champdoce. English
CHAPTER XX.
A SUDDEN CHECK.
Catenac seated himself at the writing-table without a word, concealinghis anger and jealousy beneath a careless smile. Mascarin was no longerthe plotter consulting with his confederates; he was the master issuinghis orders to his subordinates. He had now taken from a box some ofthose square pieces of pasteboard, which he spent his time in readingover.
"Try and not miss one word of what I am saying," remarked he, bendinghis keen glance upon Paul; then, turning to Catenac, he continued, "Canyou persuade the Duke de Champdoce and Perpignan to start for Vendome onSaturday?"
"Perhaps I may be able to do so."
"I want a Yes or No. Can you or can you not make these people go there?"
"Well, yes, then."
"Very well. Then, on going to Vendome, you will stop at the Hotel dePorte."
"Hotel de Porte," repeated Catenac, as he made a note of the name.
"Upon the day of your arrival at Vendome," continued Mascarin, "youcould do very little. Your time would be taken up in resting after yourjourney, and perhaps you may make a few preliminary inquiries. It willbe on Sunday that you will go to the hospital together, and make thesame inquires which the Duke formerly made by himself. The lady superioris a woman of excellent taste and education, and she will do all thatshe can to be useful to you. Through her you will be able to obtainthe boy's description, and the date on which he left the hospital tobe apprenticed to a tanner. She will tell you that, disliking theemployment, he ran away from them at the age of twelve and a half years,and that since then no trace of him has been found. You will hear fromher that he was a tall, well-built lad, looking two years older than hereally was, with an intelligent cast of feature, and keen, brighteyes, full of health and good looks. He had on, on the day of hisdisappearance, blue and white striped trousers, a gray blouse, a capwith no peak, and a spotted silk cravat. Then to assist you stillfurther in your researches she will add that he carried in a bundle,enveloped in a red plaid cotton handkerchief, a white blouse, a pair ofgray cloth trousers, and a pair of new shoes."
Catenac watched Mascarin as he was speaking with an expression ofill-concealed enmity.
"You are well informed, on my word," muttered he.
"I think I am," returned Mascarin. "After this you will go back to thehotel, and not until then--do you understand?--and you will consult asto the first steps to be taken. The plan proposed by Perpignan is anexcellent one."
"What! you know it then?"
"Of course I do. He proposed to divide Vendome and its suburbs into acertain number of circles, and to make a house-to-house visitation ineach of them. Let him go to work in this manner. Of course, to do so,you will require a guide."
"Of course we should require such a person."
"Here, Catenac, I must leave a little to chance, for I am not quiteomnipotent. But there are nine chances out of ten that your host willadvise you to avail yourself of the services of a man called Frejot,who acts as commissioner to the hotel. It may be, however, that he maydesignate some one else; but in that case you must, by some means orother, manage to employ the services of one other man."
"What am I to say to him?"
"He understands what he is to do completely. Well, these preliminariesbeing settled, you will commence on Monday morning to search thesuburb called Areines, under the guidance of Frejot. Leave all theresponsibility to Perpignan, but make sure that the Duke comes withyou. Ask the denizens a series of questions which you have preparedbeforehand, such as 'My friends, we are in search of a boy. A reward often thousand francs is offered to any one who will put us on his track.He must have left these parts in August, 1856, and some of you may haveseen him.'"
Here Catenac stopped Mascarin.
"Wait a moment. Your own words are excellent; I will write them down."
"All Monday," continued Mascarin, "you will not make much progress,and for the next few days it will be the same, but on Saturday prepareyourself for a great surprise; for on that day Frejot will take you to alarge, lonely farmhouse, on the shores of a lake. This farm is held bya man named Lorgelin, who cultivates it with the assistance of his wifeand his two sons. You will find these worthy people at dinner. They willoffer you some refreshment, and you will accept. At the next word youutter you will find that they will glance at each other in a meaningmanner, and the wife will exclaim, 'Blessed Virgin! Surely the gentlemanis speaking of the poor lad we have so often talked about.'"
As Mascarin went on describing his arrangements, his whole form seemedto dilate, and his face shone with the knowledge of mastery and power.His voice was so clear and his manner so full of authority and command,that it carried conviction to the minds of all those who were seatedlistening to him. He spoke of what would happen as if he was dealingwith an absolute certainty, and went on with such wonderful lucidity andforce of reasoning that they seemed to be absolutely real.
"Oh! the farmer's wife will say this, will she?" demanded Catenac, in atone of the utmost surprise.
"Yes, this, and nothing more. Then the husband will explain that theyfound the poor lad half dead in a ditch by the side of the road, andthat they took him home, and did what they could for him; and will add,this was in the beginning of September, 1856. You will offer to read himyour description of the lad, but he will volunteer his own, which youwill find exactly to tally with the one you have. Then Lorgelin willtell you what an excellent lad he was, and how the farm seemed quiteanother place as long as he remained there. All the family will joinin singing his praises--he was so good-tempered, so obliging, andat thirteen he could write like a lawyer's clerk. And then they willproduce some of his writing in an old copy book. But after all the oldwoman, with a tear in her eye, will say that she found the lad hadnot much gratitude in his composition, for at the end of the followingSeptember he left the farm where he had received so much kindness. Yes,he left them to go away with some strolling performers. You will beabsolutely affected by the words of these worthy people, and before youleave they will show you the clothes the lad left behind him."
Catenac was waiting for the conclusion, and then exclaimed, in rather adisappointed tone,--
"But I do not see what we have gained when Lorgelin's story has beenrepeated to us."
Mascarin raised his hand, as though to deprecate immediate criticism,and to ask for further patience on the part of his audience.
"Permit me to go on," said he. "You would now not know what to do, butPerpignan will not hesitate for a moment. He will tell you that he holdsthe end of the clue, and that all that remains to be done is to followit up carefully."
"I think that you overrate Perpignan's talents."
"Not a bit; each man to his own line of business. Besides, if he wandersoff the course, you must get him back to it. In this you must actdiplomatically. His first move will naturally be to take you to theoffice of the mayor of the township, where a register of licenses iskept. There you will find that in September, 1857, there passed throughthe place a troupe of travelling performers, consisting of nine persons,with the caravans, under the management of a man known as Vigoureux,nicknamed the Grasshopper."
Catenac rapidly jotted down these items. "Not so fast," said he; "Icannot follow you."
After a short pause, Mascarin continued.
"An attentive examination of the book will prove to you that no othertroupe of itinerant performers passed through the place during thatmonth; and it is clear that it must have been the Grasshopper withwhom the lad went away. You will then peruse the man's description.Vigoureux, born at Bourgogne, Vosges. Age, forty-seven. Height, six feettwo inches. Eyes, small and gray, rather near-sighted. Complexion dark.Third finger of left hand cut off at first joint. If you confound him,after reading this, with any other man of his profession, you mustcertainly be rather foolish."
"I shall now be able to find him," muttered Catenac.
"But that is Perpignan's business. You will see him put on an air ofthe greatest importance, and appear quite overjoyed
at the news he hasobtained at the office of the mayor. He will say that the inquiry atVendome is over, and that it will be best to return to Paris at once. Ofcourse, you will make no objection. You will permit the Duke to make ahandsome present to Lorgelin and Frejot; but take care not to leave himbehind you. I advise you to regain Paris without a moment's delay. Thewily Perpignan, on your return, will at once take you to the head policeoffice, where Vigoureux will have left his papers, like other men of hisprofession. If there is any difficulty in obtaining a sight of them, theDuke de Champdoce will act as a talisman. You will then discover thatin 1864, the man Vigoureux was sentenced to a term of imprisonment fordisorderly conduct, and that he now keeps a wine-shop at the corner ofthe Rue Depleux."
"Stop a bit," said Catenac, "and let me take down the address."
"When you go there, you will recognize Vigoureux by the loss of hisfinger. He will at once admit that the lad followed him, and remained inthe troupe for ten months. He was a good enough lad, but as grand as apeacock, and as lazy as a dormouse. He made great friends with an oldAlsatian, called Fritz, who was the conductor of the orchestra, andby-and-by both were so fond of each other, that one day they went off ineach other's company. Now you want to know what has become of Fritz? Iknow Vigoureux will get tired of this prolonged string of questions, andbehave violently; then you will threaten him for having carried offa youth of tender years, and he will calm down, and become as mild asmother's milk, and will promise to gain information for you. In a weekhe will give the information that Fritz is to be found at the HospitalMagloire."
Absolutely dumb with surprise, the audience listened to these strangeassertions, which dovetailed so exactly into each other, and seemed tohave been the work of years of research.
"Fritz," continued Mascarin, "is a sly old dog. You will find an old,rickety, blue-eyed man at the hospital, and remember to tell the Dukede Champdoce that he must not put too much faith in him. This wily oldAlsatian will tell you of all the sacrifices he made for the dear lad.He will tell you that he often went without his beer and tobacco inorder to pay for the music lessons that he forced the boy to take. Hewill tell you that he wanted to get him into the Government School ofMusic, for that he possessed great vocal and instrumental talent, and hecherished the hope of one day seeing him a great composer, like Weberor Mozart. I expect that this flow of self-praise will melt the heart ofyour client, for he will see that his son had made an effort to rise outof the mire by his own exertions, and will, in this energy, recognizeone of the characteristics of the Champdoce family; and on the strengthof this testimony he will almost be ready to accept the young man as hisson."
Catenac had for some time past been striving to decipher the meaninghidden behind the inscrutable countenance of Mascarin, but in vain.
"Let us get on," said the lawyer impatiently. "All that you have told meI shall hear later on in the course of the inquiry."
"If your sagacity requires no further explanation from me," rejoinedMascarin, "you will, I trust, permit me to continue them for the benefitof our young friend, Paul Violaine. You will feel compassion when theAlsatian tells you of his sufferings, at the boys' description of him,and his subsequent prosperity in the Rue d'Arras. You had better listento the old man as long as he continues to grumble on, the more so as youwill detect in the rancor and bitterness of his remarks all the vexationof a disappointed speculator. He will confess to you besides that hesubsists entirely on the bounty of the lad, whom he had stigmatized asan ungrateful villain. Of course, the Duke will have to leave behindhim some testimonial of his pleasure, and you will hurry off to the Rued'Arras. The proprietor of the house will tell you that some four yearsago he got rid of his musician, the only one of his class who haddared to establish himself there, and a small present and a few adroitquestions will obtain for you the address of one of the young man'spupils, Madame Grandorge, a widow lady, residing in the Rue St. Louis.This lady will tell you that she does not know the address of her formermaster, but that he used to live at 57, Rue de la Harpe. From the Rue dela Harpe you will be sent to the Rue Jacob, and from thence to the RueMontmartre, at the corner of the Rue Joquelet."
Mascarin paused, drew a long breath, and chuckled inwardly, as though atsome excellent joke.
"Be comforted, Catenac," said he. "You have nearly reached the end ofyour journey. The portress at the house in the Rue Montmartre is themost obliging woman in the world. She will tell you that the musicianstill retains his rooms in the house, but that he resides there nolonger, for he has made a lucky hit, and last month he marriedthe daughter of a wealthy banker living close by. The young lady,Mademoiselle Rigal, saw him, and fell in love with him."
A clever man like Catenac should have foreseen what was coming, buthe had not, and at this conclusion he uttered a loud exclamation ofsurprise.
"Yes, just so," said Mascarin, with an air of bland triumph. "The Dukede Champdoce will then drag you off to our mutual friend Martin Rigal,and there you will find our young _protege_, the happy husband of thebeautiful Flavia."
Mascarin drew himself up, and adjusted his glasses firmly on his nose.
"Now, my dear Catenac, show the liberality and amiability of yourdisposition by congratulating our friend Paul as Gontran, Marquis deChampdoce."
Hortebise, of course, knew what was coming; he knew the lines of theplot of the play as if he had been a joint author of it, and was as muchexcited as if he were assisting at a first rehearsal.
"Bravo!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Bravo, my dearMascarin, you have excelled yourself to-day!"
Worried and perplexed as Paul had been, as Mascarin concluded he sankback in his chair, sick and giddy with emotion.
"Yes," said Mascarin in a clear and ringing voice, "I accept your praisewithout any affectation of false modesty. We have no reason to fear theintervention of that grain of sand which sometimes stops the working ofthe machine. Perpignan, poor fool though he is, will be our best friend,and will do our work quite unconsciously. Can the Duke retain any atomof suspicion after these minute investigations? Impossible. But toremove the slightest element of doubt, I have another and an additionalplan. I will make him retrace the path upon which he has started. Heshall take Paul to all these various places, and at all of them thestatements will be even more fully confirmed. Paul, the son-in-lawof Martin Rigal, the husband of Flavia, will be recognized in the RueMontmartre, the Rue Jacob, and the Rue de la Harpe. He will be joyfullywelcomed in the Rue d'Arras; Fritz will embrace his ungrateful pupil;Vigoureux will remind him of his skillful feats on the trapeze; theLorgelin family will press the lad whom they gave shelter to, to theirhearts, and this will happen, Catenac, because I will it, and becauseall the people from the portress in the Rue Montmartre to the Lorgelinsare my slaves, and dare not disobey one single command which I mayissue."
Catenac rose slowly and solemnly from his seat.
"I recognize your patience and ingenuity thoroughly, only I am goingwith one word to crush the fabric of hope that you have so carefullyerected."
Catenac might be a coward, he might also be a traitor but he was aclever and clear-sighted man too. Consequently Hortebise shivered ashe heard these words, but Mascarin smiled disdainfully, basking in hisdream of success.
"Go on then," said he.
"Well, then, let me tell you that you will not overreach and deceive theDuke."
"And why not, pray?" asked Mascarin. "But are you sure that I wish todeceive him? You have not been open with me, why should I be frankwith you? Am I in the habit of confiding in those who do not reposeconfidence in me? Does Perpignan for a moment suspect the part that heis to play? Why may I not have judged it best to keep from you the factthat Paul is really the child you are seeking?"
Mascarin spoke so confidently that Catenac gazed upon him, hardlyknowing to what conclusion to come, for his conscience was by no meansclear. His intellect quickly dived into the depths of all probabilities,and yet he could not see in all these combinations any possible peril tohimself.
r /> "I only hope," said he, "that Paul is all that you represent him tobe; but why all these precautions? Only, mark my words, the Duke hasan infallible way of detecting, or rather of preventing, any attempt atimposition. It is ever thus, the most trivial circumstance will oversetthe best laid plans, and the inevitable destroy the combinations of themost astute intellect."
Mascarin interrupted his associate.
"Paul is the son of the Duke de Champdoce," said he decisively.
What was the meaning of this? Catenac felt that he was being playedwith, and grew angry.
"As you please; but you will, I presume, permit me to convince myself ofthe truth of this assertion."
Then, advancing towards Paul, the lawyer said,--
"Have the goodness to remove your coat."
Paul took it off, and threw it upon the back of a chair.
"Now," added Catenac, "roll up your right shirt sleeve to the shoulder."
Scarcely had the young man obeyed, and the lawyer cast a rapid glance atthe bare flesh, than he turned to his associates and observed,--
"No, he is not the right man."
To his extreme surprise, Mascarin and Hortebise burst into a fit ofunrestrained laughter.
"No," pursued the lawyer, "this is not the child who was sent to theHospital of Vendome, and the Duke will recognize this better than I can.You laugh, but it is because you do not know all."
"Enough," returned Mascarin, and then, turning to the doctor, heremarked, "Tell him, my friends, that we know more than he thinks."
"And so," said Hortebise, taking Paul's hand, "you are certain that thisis not the lost child because he has not certain marks about him; butthese will be seen upon the day on which Paul is introduced to the Duke,and legibly enough to satisfy the most unbelieving."
"What do you mean?"
"Let me explain in my own way. If in early childhood Paul had beenscalded on his shoulder by boiling water, he would have a scar whoseappearance would denote its origin?"
Catenac nodded, "You are quite accurate," said he.
"Well, then listen. Paul is coming home with me. I shall take him intomy consulting-room; he will lie on a couch. I shall give him chloroform,for I do not wish him to suffer any pain. Mascarin will help me. Then Ishall apply, on the proper part, a piece of flannel steeped in a certainliquid which is an invention of my own. I am not a fool, as you may havediscovered before this; and in a drawer at home is a piece of flannelcut so as exactly to resemble the irregular outline of a scar of thekind you describe, and a few little bits here and there will do the restof the work artistically. When the liquid has effected its work, whichwill be in ten minutes, I shall remove it, and apply an ointment,another invention of my own, to the wound; then I shall restore Paul tohis senses, and go to dinner."
Mascarin rubbed his hands with delight.
"But you forget that a certain space of time is required to give a scarthe appearance of not having been recent," objected Catenac.
"Let me speak," broke in the doctor. "If we only needed time--sixmonths, say, or a year--we should postpone our concluding act untilthen; but I, Hortebise, assure you that in two months, thanks to anotherdiscovery of my own--will show you a scar that will pass muster, notperhaps before a fellow-practitioner, but certainly before the Duke."
Catenac's sunken eyes blazed as he thought of the prospective millions.
"May the devil fly away with all scruples!" cried he. "My friends, I amyours soul and body; you may rely on your devoted Catenac."
The doctor and Mascarin exchanged a look of triumph.
"Of course we share and share alike," observed the lawyer. "It is truethat I come in rather late; but the part I play is a delicate and animportant one, and you can do nothing without me."
"You shall have your share," answered Mascarin evasively.
"One word more," said the lawyer. "Do you think that the Duke has keptnothing back? The infant was hardly seen by him or the Duchess; but Jeansaw it, and he, though very old and infirm, would come forward at anymoment to defend the name and honor of the Champdoce family."
"Well, and what then?"
"Jean, you know, was against the substitution of another child. May henot have foreseen the chance of such a case as this arising?"
Mascarin looked grave. "I have thought of that before," returned he;"but what can be done?"
"I will find out," said Catenac. "Jean has the most implicit confidencein me, and I will question him."
The cold calmness of the lawyer had vanished, and Catenac only displayedthe zealous eagerness of the man who, admitted at a late hour into anenterprise which he imagines will be lucrative, burns to do as much ashe can to further it.
"But," added he, as an after-thought, "how can we be certain that thereis no one to recognize Paul?"
"I can answer for that; his poverty had isolated him from all but awoman named Rose, and I took care that she should be sent to the prisonof St. Lazare. At one time I was a little anxious, as I heard that Paulhad a patron; but he, as I have found out, was the Count de Mussidan,the murderer of Montlouis, who, as you may have guessed, was Paul'sfather."
"We have nothing, then, to fear from that quarter," said the doctor.
"Nothing; and while you get on with your work, I will hurry on Paul'smarriage with Rigal's daughter. But this will not prevent my busyingmyself in another quarter; for before a month Henri de Croisenois willhave floated his Company, and become the husband of Sabine de Mussidan."
"I think that it is about time for dinner," remarked Hortebise, and,turning to the _protege_ of the association, he added, "Come, Paul."
But Paul made no movement, and then for the first time it was seen thatthe poor boy had fainted, and they had to sprinkle cold water upon himbefore he regained consciousness.
"Surely," remarked the doctor, "it is not the idea of a triflingoperation that you will not feel which has so frightened you?"
Paul shook his head. "It is not that," said he.
"What, then, is it?"
"Simply that the real man exists; I know him, and know where he lives."
"What do you mean?" they cried.
"I know him, I tell you--the son of the Duke de Champdoce."
"Let us hear all!" cried Mascarin, who was the first to come to hissenses. "Explain yourself."
"Simply this. I know such a young man, and it was the thought of thisthat made me feel so ill. He is thirty-three. He was at the FoundlingHospital; he left it at the age of twelve and a half years; and he hasjust such a scald on his shoulder, which he got when he was apprenticedto a tanner."
"And where," asked Mascarin quickly, "is this same young man? What ishis name, and what does he do for a living?"
"He is a painter; his name is Andre, and he lives--"
A blasphemous oath from Mascarin interrupted him. "This is the thirdtime," said he fiercely, "that this cursed fellow has crossed our path;but I swear that it shall be the last."
Hortebise and Catenac were livid with alarm.
"What do you intend to do?" asked they.
"I shall do nothing," answered he; "but you know that this Andre,in addition to being a painter, is an ornamental sculptor and housedecorator, and so is often on lofty scaffolds. Have you never heard thataccidents frequently happen to that class of people?"