Secret des Champdoce. English

  CHAPTER XXXII.

  M. LECOQ.

  The Marquis de Croisenois lived in a fine new house on the BoulevardMalesherbes near the church of St. Augustine, and in a suite of roomsthe rental of which was four thousand francs per annum. He had collectedtogether sufficient relics of his former splendor to dazzle the eyes ofthe superficial observer. The apartment and the furniture stood in thename of his body-servant, while his horse and brougham were by the samefiction supposed to be the property of his coachman, for even in themidst of his ruin the Marquis de Croisenois could not go on foot likecommon people.

  The Marquis had two servants only in his modest establishment--acoachman, who did a certain amount of indoor work, and a valet, who knewenough of cookery to prepare a bachelor breakfast. This valet Mascarinhad seen once, and the man had then produced so unpleasant an impressionon the astute proprietor of the Servants' Registry Office that he hadset every means at work to discover who he was and from whence hecame. Croisenois said that he had taken him into his service on therecommendation of an English baronet of his acquaintance, a certain SirRichard Wakefield. The man was a Frenchman, but he had resided for sometime in England, for he spoke that language with tolerable fluency.Andre knew nothing of these details, but he had heard of the existenceof the valet from M. de Breulh, when he had asked where the Marquislived.

  At eight o'clock on the morning after he had surreptitiously left hishome in the manner described, Andre took up his position in a smallwine-shop not far from the abode of the Marquis de Croisenois. He haddone this designedly, for he knew enough of the manner and customs ofParisian society to know that this was the hour usually selected bydomestics in fashionable quarters to come out for a gossip while theirmasters were still in bed. Andre had more confidence in himself thanheretofore, for he had succeeded in saving Gaston; and these werethe means he had employed. After much trouble, and even by the use ofthreats, he had persuaded the boy to return to his father's house. Hehad gone with him; and though it was two in the morning, he had nothesitated to arouse M. Gandelu, senior, and tell him how his son hadbeen led on to commit the forgery, and how he threatened to commitsuicide.

  The poor old man was much moved.

  "Tell him to come to me at once," said he, "and let him know that we twowill save him."

  Andre had not far to go, for Gaston was waiting in the next room in anagony of suspense.

  As soon as he came into the old man's presence he fell upon his knees,with many promises of amendment for the future.

  "I do not believe," remarked old Gandelu, "that these miscreants willventure to carry their threats into execution and place the matter inthe hands of the police; but for all that, my son must not remain ina state of suspense. I will file a complaint against the Mutual LoanSociety before twelve to-day, and we will see how an association will bedealt with that lends money to minors and urges them to forge signaturesas security. It will, however, be as well for my son to leave forBelgium by the first train this morning; but, as you will see, he willnot remain very many days."

  Andre remained for the rest of the hours of darkness at the kind oldman's house, and it was in Gaston's room that he renewed his "make-up"before leaving. The future looked very bright to him as he walked gaylyup the Boulevard Malesherbes. The wine-shop in which he had taken up hisposition was admirably adapted for keeping watch on De Croisenois, forhe could not avoid seeing all who came in and went out of the house;and as there was no other wine-shop in the neighborhood, Andre feltsure that all the servants in the vicinity, and those of the Marquis, ofcourse, among the number, would come there in the course of the morning;so that here he could get into conversation with them, offer them aglass of wine, and, perhaps, get some information from them. Theroom was large and airy, and was full of customers, most of whom wereservants. Andre was racking his brain for a means of getting intoconversation with the proprietor, when two new-comers entered the room.These men were in full livery, while all the other servants had onmorning jackets. As soon as they entered, an old man, with a calmexpression of face, who was struggling perseveringly with a toughbeefsteak at the same table as that by which Andre was seated,observed,--

  "Ah! here comes the De Croisenois' lot."

  "If they would only sit here," thought Andre, "by the side of thisfellow, who evidently knows them, I could hear all they said."

  By good luck they did so, begging that they might be served at once, asthey were in a tremendous hurry.

  "What is the haste this morning?" asked the old man who had recognizedthem.

  "I have to drive the master to his office, for he has one now. He ischairman of a Copper Mining Company, and a fine thing it is, too. If youhave any money laid by, M. Benoit, this is a grand chance for you."

  Benoit shook his head gravely.

  "All is not gold that glitters," said he sententiously; "nor, on theother hand, are things as bad as they are painted."

  Benoit was evidently a prudent man, and was not likely to commithimself.

  "But if your master is going out, you, M. Mouret, will be free, and wecan have a game at cards together."

  "No, sir," answered the valet.

  "What! are you engaged too?"

  "Yes; I have to carry a bouquet of flowers to the young lady my masteris engaged to. I have seen the young lady; she seems to be ratherhaughty."

  The man, who wore an enormously high and stiff collar, was absolutelyspeaking of Sabine, and Andre could have twisted his neck with pleasure.

  "Let us hope," remarked the coachman, as he hastily swallowed hisbreakfast, "that the Marquis does not intend to invest his wife's dowryin this new venture of his."

  The men then ceased to speak of their master, and began to busythemselves with their own affairs, and went out again without alludingto him any further, leaving Andre to reflect what a difficult businessthe detective line was.

  The customers looked upon him with distrustful eyes, for it must beconfessed that his appearance was decidedly against him, and he had notyet acquired the necessary art of seeing and hearing while affecting tobe doing neither; and it was easy for the dullest observer to be certainthat it was not for the sake of obtaining a breakfast that he hadentered the establishment. Andre had penetration enough to see theeffect he had produced, and he became more and more embarrassed. He hadfinished his meal now and had lighted a cigar, and had ordered a smallglass of brandy. Nearly all the customers had withdrawn, leaving onlyfive or six, who were playing cards at a table near the door. Andrewas anxious to see Croisenois enter his carriage, and so he lingered,ordering another glass of brandy as an excuse.

  He had just been served, when a man, whose dress very much resembled hisown, lounged into the wine-shop. He was a tall, clumsily built fellow,with an insolent expression upon his beardless face. His coat and capwere in an equally dilapidated condition; and in the squeaky voice ofthe rough, he ordered a plate of beef and half a bottle of wine, and,as he brushed past Andre, upset his glass of brandy. The artist made noremark, though he felt quite sure that this act was intentional, as thefellow laughed impudently when he saw the damage that he had done. Whenhis breakfast was served, he carelessly spit upon Andre's boots. Theinsult was so apparent that Andre began to reflect.

  "Had he not succeeded in eluding his spies, as he thought that he haddone? And was it not quite possible that this man had been sent to picka quarrel with him, and deal him a disabling, or even a fatal blow?"

  Prudence counselled him to leave the place at once, but he felt that hecould not go until he had found out the real truth. There seemed to bebut little doubt on the matter, however; for as the fellow cut up hismeat, he jerked every bit of skin and gristle into his neighbor's lap;then, after finishing up his wine, he managed to upset the few dropsremaining on to Andre's arm and shoulder. This was the finishing stroke.

  "Please, remember," remarked Andre calmly, "that there is some one atthe table besides yourself."

  "Do you think I'm blind, mate?" returned the fellow brutally. "Mind yourown busine
ss, or----" And to conclude the sentence, he shook his fistthreateningly in the young man's face.

  Andre started to his feet, and, with a well-directed blow in the chest,sent the fellow rolling under the table.

  At the sound of the scuffle, the card-players turned round, and sawAndre standing erect, with quivering lips and eyes flashing with rage,while his antagonist was lying on the floor among the overturned chairs.

  "Come, come! No squabbling here!" remarked one of the players.

  The fellow scrambled to his feet, and made a savage rush at the youngman, who, using his right foot skilfully, tripped his antagonist up,and sent him again rolling on the ground. It was most adroitly done, andsecured the applause of the lookers-on, who now complained no longer,and were evidently interested in the scene.

  Again the rough came up, but Andre contented himself with standing onthe defensive. Some tables, a stool, and a glass were injured, and atlast the proprietor came upon the scene of action.

  "Get out of this," cried he, "and take care that I don't see your faceshere again."

  At these words, the rough burst out into a torrent of foul language.

  "Don't put up with his cheek," said one of the customers; "give him incharge at once."

  Hardly, however, had the manager started to summon the police, than, asif by magic, a body of them appeared; and Andre found himself walkingdown the boulevard between a couple, while his late antagonist followedin the safe custody of two more. To have attempted any resistance wouldhave been utter folly, and the young man resigned himself to what hefelt he could not help. But as he went on, he reflected on the strangescene through which he had just passed. All had gone on so rapidly thathe could hardly recall the events to his memory. He was, however, quitesure that this unprovoked assault concealed some motive with which atpresent he was unacquainted.

  The police led their prisoners through the doorway of a dingy-lookingold house, and then Andre saw that he was not at the regularpolice-station. The whole party entered an office, where asuperintendent and two clerks were at work. The ruffian who hadassaulted Andre changed his manner directly he entered the office; hethrew his tattered cap upon a bench, passed his fingers through hishair, and shook hands with the superintendent; he then turned to Andre.

  "Permit me, sir," said he, "to compliment you on being so handy withyour fists. You precious nearly did for me, I can tell you."

  At that moment a door opened at the other end of the room, and a voicewas heard to say, "Send them in."

  Andre and his late antagonist soon found themselves in an officeevidently sacred to some one high up in the police. At a desk near thewindow was seated a man, with a rather distinguished air, wearing awhite necktie and a pair of gold glasses.

  "Have the goodness to take a seat," said this gentleman, addressingAndre with the most perfect urbanity.

  He took a chair, half stupefied by the strangeness of the whole affair,and waited. Could he be awake, or was he dreaming? He could hardly tell.

  "Before I say anything," remarked the gentleman in the gold spectacles,"I ought to apologize for a proceeding which is--well, what shall I callit?--a little rough, perhaps; but it was necessary to make use of it toobtain this interview with you. Really, however, I had no choice. Youare closely watched, and I did not wish the persons who had set spies onyou to have any knowledge of this conference."

  "Do you say I am watched?" stammered Andre.

  "Yes, by a certain La Candele, as sharp a fellow at that kind of work asyou could find in Paris. Are you surprised at this?"

  "Yes, for I had thought----"

  The gentleman's features softened into a benevolent smile.

  "You thought," he said, "that you had succeeded in throwing them off thescent. So I had imagined this morning, when I saw you in your presentdisguise. But permit me, my dear M. Andre, to assure you that there isgreat room for improvement in it. I admit that a first attempt is alwaysto be looked on leniently; but it did not deceive La Candele, and evenat this distance I can plainly see your whole makeup; and what I cansee, of course, is patent to others."

  He rose from his seat, and came closer to Andre.

  "Why on earth," asked he, "should you daub all this color on your face,which makes you look like an Indian warrior in his war-paint? Only twocolors are necessary to change the whole face--red and black--at theeyebrows, the nostrils, and the corners of the mouth. Look here;" andtaking from his pocket a gold pencil-case, he corrected the faults inthe young artist's work.

  As soon as he had finished, Andre went up to the mirror over thechimney-piece, and was surprised at the result.

  "Now," said the strange gentleman, "you see the futility of yourattempts. La Candele knew you at once. I wished to speak to you; so Isent for Palot, one of my men, and instructed him to pick a quarrel withyou. The policemen arrested you, and we have met without any one beingat all the wiser. Be kind enough to efface my little corrections, asthey will be noticed in the street."

  Andre obeyed, and as he rubbed away with the corner of his handkerchief,he vainly sought for some elucidation of this mystery.

  The man with the gold spectacles had resumed his seat, and wasrefreshing himself with a pinch of snuff.

  "And now," resumed he, "we will, if you please, have a little talktogether. As you see, I know you. Doctor Loulleux tells me that he knowsno one so high-minded and amiable as yourself. He declares that yourhonor is without a stain, and your courage undoubted."

  "Ah! my dear sir!" interposed the painter, with a deep blush.

  "Pray let me go on. M. Gandelu says that he would trust you with all hepossessed, while all your comrades, with Vignol at their head, have thegreatest respect and regard for you. So much for the present. As foryour future, two of the greatest ornaments of the artistic world saythat you will one day occupy a very high place in the profession. Yougain now about fifteen francs a day. Am I correct?"

  "Certainly," answered Andre, more bewildered than ever.

  The gentleman smiled.

  "Unfortunately," he went on, "my information ends here, for the means ofinquiry possessed by the police are, of course, very limited. They canonly act upon facts, not on intentions, and so long as these are notdisplayed in open acts, the hands of the police are tied. It is onlyforty-eight hours since I heard of you for the first time, and Ihave already your biography in my pocket. I hear that the day beforeyesterday you were dining with M. de Breulh-Faverlay, and that thismorning you were walking with young Gandelu, and that La Candele wasfollowing you like a shadow. These are all facts, but----"

  He paused, and cast a keen glance upon Andre, then, in a slow andmeasured voice, he continued,--

  "But no one has been able to tell me why you dogged Verminet'sfootsteps, or why you went to Mascarin's house, or why, finally,you disguised yourself to keep a watch on the movements of the mosthonorable the Marquis de Croisenois. It is the motive that we cannotarrive at, for the facts are perfectly clear."

  Andre fidgeted uneasily in his chair beneath the spell of those magneticglasses, which seemed to draw the truth from him.

  "I cannot tell you, sir," faltered he at last, "for the secret is notmine to divulge."

  "You will not trust me? Well, then, I must speak. Remember, all thatI have told you was the account of what I knew positively; but, inaddition to this, I have drawn my own inferences. You are watching DeCroisenois because he is going to marry a wealthy heiress."

  Andre blushed crimson.

  "We assume, therefore, that you wish to prevent this marriage; and why,pray? I have heard that Mademoiselle de Mussidan was formerly engagedto M. de Breulh-Faverlay. How comes it that the Count and Countess deMussidan prefer a ruined spendthrift to a wealthy and strictly honorableman? It is for you to answer this question. It is perfectly plain to methat they hand over their daughter to De Croisenois under pressureof some kind, and that means that a terrible secret exists with whichCroisenois threatens them."

  "Your deduction is wrong, sir," exclaimed Andre eagerly, "and y
ou arequite wrong."

  "Very good," was the calm reply. "Your emphatic denial shows that I amin the right. I want no further proofs. M. de Mussidan paid you a visityesterday, and one of my agents reported that his face was much happieron leaving you than when he was on his way to your house. I thereforeinfer that you promised to release him from Croisenois' persecutions,and in return he promised you his daughter's hand in marriage. This, ofcourse, explains your present disguise, and now tell me again that I amwrong, if you dare."

  Andre would not lie, and therefore kept silence.

  "And now," continued the gentleman, "how about the secret? Did not theCount tell it you? I do not know it; and yet I think that if I were tosearch for it, I could find it. I can call to my mind certain crimeswhich three generations of detective have striven to find out. Did youever hear that De Croisenois had an elder brother named George, whodisappeared in a most wonderful manner? What became of him? This veryGeorge, twenty-three years back, was a friend of Madame de Mussidan's.Might not his disappearance have something to do with this marriage?"

  "Are you the fiend himself?" cried the young man.

  "I am M. Lecoq."

  Andre started back in absolute dread at the name of this celebrateddetective.

  "M. Lecoq!" repeated he.

  The vanity of the great detective was much flattered when he saw theimpression that his name had produced.

  "And now, my dear M. Andre," said he blandly, "now that you know who Iam, may I not hope that you will be more communicative?"

  M. de Mussidan had not told his secret to the young artist, but hehad said enough for him to feel that the detective was correct in hisinference.

  "Surely," continued Lecoq, "we ought to be able to come to a moredefinite understanding, and I think that my openness should elicit somefrankness on your side. I saw that you were watched by the very personthat I was watching. For three days my men have followed you, and to-dayI made up my mind that you could furnish me with the clue I am seeking."

  "I, sir?"

  "For many years," continued Lecoq, "I have been certain that anorganized association of blackmailers exists in Paris; familydifferences, sin, shame, and sorrow are worked by these wretches likeveritable gold mines, and bring them in enormous annual revenues."

  "Ah," returned Andre, "I expected something of this kind."

  "Of course, when I was quite sure of these facts," continued Lecoq, "Isaid to myself, 'I will break up this gang;' but it was easier said thandone. There is one very peculiar thing about blackmailing. Those whocarry it on are almost certain of doing so with impunity, for thevictims will pay and not complain. Yes, I tell you that I have oftenfound out these unhappy pigeons, but never could get one to speak."

  The detective was so indignant and acrimonious withal in hisindignation, that Andre could not repress a smile.

  "Very soon," continued Lecoq, "I recognized the futility of my attempts,and the impossibility of reaching these scoundrels through theirvictims, and then I determined to strike at the plunderers themselves,but this was a scheme that took patience and time. I have waited mychance for three years, and for eighteen months one of my men has beenin the service of the Marquis de Croisenois, and up to now this bandof villains has cost the government over ten thousand francs. Thatsuperlative scoundrel, Mascarin, has put several white threads in myhair. I believe him to be Tantaine; yes, and Martin Rigal too. The ideaof there being a means of communication between the banker's housein the Rue Montmartre and the Servants' Registry Office in the RueMontorgueil only came into my head this morning. But this time theyhave gone too far, and I have them. I know them all, from the chief,Mascarin-Tantaine-Rigal, down to their lowest agent, Toto Chupin, andPaul Violaine, the docile puppet of their will. We will get hold of thewhole gang, and neither Van Klopen nor Catenac will escape. Just now thelatter is travelling about with the Duke de Champdoce and a fellow namedPerpignan, and two of my sweet lads are close upon them, and send inalmost hourly reports of what is going on. My trap has a tempting bait,the spring is strong, and we shall catch every one of them. And now doyou still hesitate to confide all you know to me? I swear on my honorthat I will respect as sacred what you tell me, no matter what mayoccur."

  Andre yielded, as did every person who came under the influence of thisremarkable man and his strange and inexplicable fascination. If hehid anything from him to-day, would not Lecoq be acquainted with itto-morrow? And so, with the most perfect frankness, he told his storyand everything that he knew.

  "Now," cried Lecoq, "I see it all clearly. Aha, they want to force youngGandelu to disappear with Rose, do they?"

  Beneath his gold-rimmed spectacles his eyes flashed fiercely. He seemedto be occupied in drawing out his plan of campaign.

  "From this moment," said he, "be at ease. In another month Mademoisellede Mussidan shall be your wife; this I promise you, and the promises ofLecoq are never broken."

  He paused for an instant, as though to collect his thoughts, and thencontinued,--

  "I can answer for all, except for your life. So many are interested inyour disappearance from this world, that every effort will be made toget rid of you. Do not cease your caution for an instant. Never eattwice running at the same restaurant, throw away food that has theslightest strange taste. Avoid crowds in the street; do not get into acab; never lean from a window before ascertaining that its supports aresolid; in a word, fear and suspect everything."

  For a moment longer Lecoq detained the young artist.

  "Tell me," said he, "have you the mark of a wound on your shoulder orarm?"

  "I have, sir; the scar of a very severe scald."

  "I thought so; yes, I was almost certain of it," said Lecoqthoughtfully; and as he conducted the young man to the door, he tookleave of him with the same words that Mascarin had often used to Paul,--

  "Farewell for the present, Duke de Champdoce."