Secret des Champdoce. English

  CHAPTER XXXIV.

  THE DAY OF RECKONING.

  M. Lecoq enjoined prudence and caution on Andre, and the utmost careon the part of his agents, because he was fully aware of the skill andcunning of the adversary with whom he had to cope.

  "You should not talk or make a noise," he would say, "when you arefighting."

  He could now prove that the head of this association, the man whoconcealed his identity under a threefold personality, was the instigatorof a murder. But he did not intend to make use of this discovery atonce, for he had sworn that he would take the whole gang, and hisproceedings had been so carefully conducted that his victims did not fora moment suspect the net that was closing around them. The day after theaccident to Andre, Mascarin sent an anonymous communication to the headof the police, giving up Toto as the author of the crime, and sayingwhere he could be found.

  "Of course," thought this wily plotter, "Toto will denounce Tantaine,but that worthy man is dead and buried, and I think that eventhe sharpest agents of the police will be unable to effect hisresurrection."

  Mascarin had carefully consumed in a large fire every particle of thetattered garments that Tantaine had been in the habit of wearing, andlaughed merrily as he watched the columns of sombre smoke roll upwards.

  "Look for him as much as you please," laughed he. "Old Daddy Tantainehas flown up the chimney."

  The next business was to suppress Mascarin; this was a more difficultoperation. Few would care to inquire about Tantaine, but Mascarin waswell known as the head of a prosperous business; his disappearance wouldcreate a sensation, and the police would take up the matter. His bestcourse would be to conduct matters openly, and sell his business onthe plea of family affairs causing him to retire. He easily found apurchaser, and in twenty-four hours the matter had been arranged.

  The night before handing over the business to his successor Mascarinhad much to do. Assisted by Beaumarchef, he carried into Martin Rigal'sprivate office the papers with which the Registry Office was crammed.This removal was effected by means of a door marked by a panel betweenMascarin's office and the banker's private room; and when the last scrapof paper had been removed, Mascarin pointed out a heap of bricks and asupply of mortar to his faithful adherent.

  "Wall up this door," said he.

  It was a long and wearisome task, but it was at length completed, andby rubbing soot and dust over the new work it lost its appearance offreshness. The evening before Beaumarchef had received twelve thousandfrancs on the express condition that he would start at once for America,and the leave-taking between him and the master he had so faithfullyserved was a most affecting one. He knew hardly anything of thediabolical plots going on around him, and was the only innocent personin that house of crime.

  Mascarin was in haste to depart; he had annihilated Tantaine in orderto free himself from Toto. Mascarin was about to disappear, and hecontemplated retaining his third personality, and in it to pass away theremainder of his life honored and respected; but he must first inducthis successor into his business; and he went through the books with him,and explained all the practical working of the machinery. This took himnearly all day, and it was getting late when his luggage was put on acab which he had in waiting. A new plate had already been placed on thedoor: "J. Robinet, late B. Mascarin."

  Knowing that he must carry out the deception completely, Mascarin droveto the western railway station, and took a ticket for Rouen. He feltrather uncomfortable, for he feared that he was being watched, and hemade up his mind not to leave a single trace behind him. At Rouen heabandoned his luggage, which he had taken care should afford no clueas to ownership, he also relinquished his beard and spectacles, andreturned to Paris as the well-known banker, Martin Rigal, the prettyFlavia's father, having, as he thought, obliterated Mascarin ascompletely as he had done Tantaine; but he had not noticed in the trainwith him a very dark young man with piercing eyes, who looked like thetraveller of some respectable commercial firm. As soon as he reachedhis home, and had tenderly embraced his daughter, he went to the privateroom of Martin Rigal, and opened it with the key that never lefthis person, and then gazed at a large rough mass of brickwork whichdisfigured one side of the room, and which was the remains of the wallthat erewhile had been so hastily erected in the Office of the Servants'Registry.

  "This won't do," muttered he; "it must be plastered, and thenrepapered."

  He picked up the bits of brick and plaster that lay on the floor, andthrew them into the fire, and then pushed a large screen in front of therough brickwork. He had just finished his work when Hortebise enteredthe room, with his perpetually smiling face.

  "Now, you unbeliever," cried Mascarin gaily, "is not fortune within ourgrasp? Tantaine and Mascarin are dead, or rather, they never existed.Beaumarchef is on his way to America, La Candele will be in London in aweek, and now we may enjoy our millions."

  "Heaven grant it," said the doctor piously.

  "Pooh, pooh! we have nothing more to fear, as you would have known hadyou gone into the case as thoroughly as I have done. Who was the enemywhom we had most need to dread? Why, Andre. He certainly is not dead,but he is laid up for some weeks, and that is enough. Besides, hehas given up the game, for one of my men who managed to get into thehospital says that he has not received a visitor or dispatched a letterfor the last fifteen days."

  "But he had friends."

  "Pshaw! friends always forget you! Why, where was M. deBreulh-Faverlay?"

  "It is the racing season, and he is a fixture in his stables."

  "Madame de Bois Arden?"

  "The new fashions are sufficient for her giddy head."

  "M. Gandelu?"

  "He has his son's affairs to look after and there is no one else of anyconsequence."

  "And how about young Gandelu?"

  "Oh! he has yielded to Tantaine's winning power, and has made it up withRose, and the turtle doves have taken wing for Florence."

  But the doctor was still dissatisfied. "I am uneasy about theMussidans," said he.

  "And pray why? De Croisenois has been very well received. I don't saythat Mademoiselle Sabine has exactly jumped into his arms, but shethanks him every evening for the flowers he sends in the morning, andyou can't expect more than that."

  "I wish the Count had not put off the marriage. Why did he do so?"

  "It annoys me, too; but we can't have everything; set your mind atrest."

  By this time the banker had contrived to reassure the doctor.

  "Besides," he added, "everything is going on well, even our Tafilamines. I have taxed our people, according to their means, from one totwenty thousand francs, and we are certain of a million."

  The doctor rubbed his hands, and a delicious prospect of enjoymentsstretched out before him.

  "I have seen Catenac," continued Martin Rigal. "He has returned fromVendome, and the Duke de Champdoce is wild with hope and expectation,and is on the path which he thinks will take him to his son."

  "And how about Perpignan?"

  Mascarin laughed.

  "Perpignan is just as much a dupe as the Duke is; he thinks absolutelythat he has discovered all the clues that I myself placed on his road.Before, however, they have quite concluded their investigations,Paul will be my daughter's husband and Flavia the future Duchess ofChampdoce, with an income that a monarch might envy."

  He paused, for there was a light tap on the door, and Flavia entered.She bowed to the doctor, and, with the graceful movement of a bird,perched herself upon her father's knee, and, throwing her arms round hisneck, kissed him again and again.

  "This is a very nice little preface," said the banker with a forcedsmile. "The favor is granted in advance, for, of course, this means thatyou have come to ask one."

  The girl shook her head, and returned in the tone of one addressing anaughty child,--

  "Oh, you bad papa! Am I in the habit of selling my kisses? I am surethat I have only to ask and to have."

  "Of course not, only----"

  "I came
to tell you that dinner was ready, and that Paul and I are bothvery hungry; and I only kissed you because I loved you; and if I had tochoose a father again, out of the whole it would be you."

  He smiled fondly.

  "But for the last six weeks," said he, "you have not loved me so well."

  "No," returned she with charming simplicity, "not for so long--nearlyfor fifteen days perhaps."

  "And yet it is more than a month since the good doctor brought a certainyoung man to dinner."

  Flavia uttered a frank, girlish laugh.

  "I love you dearly," said she, "but especially for one thing."

  "And what is that, pray?"

  "Ah! that is the secret; but I will tell it you for all that. It is onlywithin the last fortnight that I have found out how really good you havebeen, and how much trouble you took in bringing Paul to me; but to thinkthat you should have to put on those ugly old clothes, that nasty beardand those spectacles."

  At these words the banker started so abruptly to his feet that Flavianearly fell to the ground.

  "What do you mean by this?" said he.

  "Do you suppose a daughter does not know her father? You might deceiveothers, but I--"

  "Flavia, I do not comprehend your meaning."

  "Do you mean to tell me," asked she, "that you did not come to Paul'srooms the day I was there?"

  "Are you crazy? Listen to me."

  "No, I will not; you must not tell me fibs. I am not a fool; and whenyou went out with the doctor, I listened at the door, and I heard a fewwords you said; and that isn't all, for when I got here, I hid myselfand I saw you come into this room."

  "But you said nothing to any one, Flavia?"

  "No, certainly not."

  Rigal breathed a sigh of relief.

  "Of course I do not count Paul," continued the girl, "for he is the sameas myself."

  "Unhappy child!" exclaimed the banker in so furious a voice, and withsuch a threatening gesture of the hand, that for the first time in herlife Flavia was afraid of her father.

  "What have I done?" asked she, the tears springing to her eyes. "I onlysaid to Paul that we should be terribly ungrateful if we did not worshiphim; for you don't know what he does for us. Why, he even dresses up inrags, and goes to see you."

  Hortebise, who up to this time had not said a word, now interfered.

  "And what did Paul say?" asked he.

  "Paul? Oh, nothing for a moment. Then he cried out, 'I see it all now,'and laughed as if he would have gone into a fit."

  "Did you not understand, my poor child, what this laugh means? Paulthinks that you have been my accomplice, and believes that it was inobedience to your orders that I went to look for him."

  "Well, and suppose he does?"

  "A man like Paul never loves a woman who has run after him; and nomatter how great her beauty may be, will always consider that she hasthrown herself in his path. He will accept all her devotion, and make nomore return than a stone or a wooden idol would do. You cannot see this,and God grant that it may be long before the bandage is removed fromyour eyes. Can you not read the quality of this foolish boy, who has nota manly instinct in him?"

  "Enough!" she cried, "enough! I am not such a coward as to allow you toinsult my husband."

  He shuddered at the thought that his words might cost him his daughter'slove, but Hortebise interposed by putting his arm round Flavia's waistand leading her from the room. When he returned, he observed,--

  "I cannot understand your anger. It seems to me that all recriminationis most indiscreet, for you can at any moment break off this marriage."

  "Do you think it is nothing for me to be at the mercy of that cowardlywretch, Paul?"

  "Not more so than you are by the foolish weakness of your daughter. Isnot Paul our accomplice? And are we any more compromised because he hasdiscovered the secret of your triple personality?"

  "Ah! you have not a father's feelings. Up till now Paul did not knowthat I was Mascarin, and believed me to be the victim of blackmailers.As a dupe he respected me, as an accomplice he will scorn me. Thisdisastrous marriage must be hastened."

  Paul and Flavia's marriage took place at the end of the next week,and Paul left his simple bachelor abode to take possession of themagnificent suite of rooms prepared for him by the banker in his housein the Rue Montmartre. The change was great, but Paul was no longersurprised at anything. He did not feel the faintest tinge of remorse;he only feared one thing, and that was that by some blunder he mightcompromise his future, when the eventful day arrived which would givehim the social position and standing of heir to a dukedom.

  When, however, the Duke de Champdoce came, accompanied by Perpignan,the young imposter rose to the level of his masters, and played his partwith most consummate skill. The Duke, whose life had been one long sceneof misery, and who had so cruelly expiated the sins of his youth, seemedto have become suddenly lenient; and had Paul obeyed him, he wouldat once have established himself with his young wife at the Hotel deChampdoce, but Martin Rigal put a veto upon this, for he was not quitesatisfied that his son-in-law was really the heir to the Champdocedukedom; and finally it was agreed that the Duke should come tobreakfast the next morning and take away Paul. Eleven was the hourfixed, but the Duke appeared at the banker's house at ten, where he,Catenac, Hortebise, and Paul were assembled together in solemn conclave.

  "Now, papa," said Flavia, who kept her father on thorns by her gay andfrolicsome criticisms, "you will no longer blame me for falling in lovewith a poor Bohemian, for you see that he is a Champdoce, and that hisfather possesses millions."

  The Duke was now seated on the sofa, holding the hand of the young manwhom he believed to be his son tightly in his. The Duchess, to whom hehad given a hint of what was going on, had been taken seriously ill fromover-excitement, but had recovered herself a little, and the Duke wasdescribing this when he was suddenly interrupted by a series of fulland heavy blows struck upon the other side of the wall of the room.A pickaxe was evidently at work. The whole house was shaken by theviolence of the attack, and a screen, which stood near the spot, wasthrown down.

  The plotters gazed upon each other with pale and terror-stricken faces,for it was evident that the fresh brick wall, the work of Mascarin andBeaumarchef, was being destroyed. The Duke sat in perfect amazement, forthe alarm of his host and his friends was plainly evident. He could feelPaul's hand tremble in his, but could not understand why work evidentlygoing on in the next house could cause such feelings of alarm. Flaviawas the only one who had no suspicion, and she remarked, "Dear me! Ishould like to know the meaning of this disturbance."

  "I will send and inquire," said her father; but scarcely had he openedthe door than he retreated with a wild expression of terror in hisface, and his arms stretched out in front of him, as though to bar theapproach of some terrible spectre. In the doorway stood an eminentlyrespectable-looking gentleman, wearing a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles,and behind him a commissary of police, girt with his official scarf,while farther back still were half a dozen police officers.

  "M. Lecoq," cried the three confederates in one breath, while throughtheir minds flashed the same terrible idea--"We are lost."

  The celebrated detective advanced slowly into the room, curiouslywatching the group collected there. There was an air of entiresatisfaction visible on his countenance.

  "Aha!" he said, "I was right, it seems. I was sure that I was making nomistake in rapping at the other side of the wall. I knew that it wouldbe heard in here."

  By this time, however, the banker had, to all outward appearance,regained his self-command.

  "What do you want here?" asked he insolently. "What is the meaning ofthis intrusion?"

  "This gentleman will explain," returned Lecoq, stepping aside to makeway for the commissary of police to come forward. "But, to shortenmatters, I may tell you that I have obtained a warrant for your arrest,Martin Rigal, _alias_ Tantaine, _alias_ Mascarin."

  "I don't understand you!"

  "Indeed. Do you
think that Tantaine has cleaned his hands so completelythat not a drop of Andre's blood clings to the fingers of Martin Rigal?"

  "On my word, you are speaking in riddles."

  A bland smile passed over Lecoq's face as, drawing a folded letter fromhis pocket, he answered,--

  "Perhaps you are acquainted with the handwriting of your daughter. Well,then, listen to what she wrote not so very long ago to the very Paul whois sitting on the sofa there.

  "'MY DEAREST PAUL,--

  "'We should be guilty of the deepest ingratitude if----'"

  "Enough! Enough!" cried the banker in a hoarse voice. "Lost, lost, lost!My own child has been my ruin!"

  The calmest of the conspirators was now the one who was generally thefirst to take alarm, and this was the genial Doctor Hortebise. When herecognized Lecoq, he had gently opened his locket and taken from ita small pellet of grayish-colored paste, and, holding it between hisfingers, had waited until his leader should declare that all hope wasgone.

  In the meantime Lecoq turned towards Catenac.

  "And you too are included in this warrant," said he.

  Catenac, perhaps owing to his legal training, made no reply to Lecoq,but addressing the commissary, observed,--

  "I am the victim of a most unpleasant mistake, but my position----"

  "The warrant is quite regular," returned the commissary. "You can see itif you desire."

  "No, it is not necessary. I will only ask you to conduct me to themagistrate who issued it, and in five minutes all will be explained."

  "Do you think so?" asked Lecoq in a quiet tone of sarcasm. "You have notheard, I can see, of what took place yesterday. A laborer, in the courseof his work, discovers the remains of a newly-born infant, wrapped ina silk handkerchief and a shawl. The police soon set inquiries on foot,and have found the mother--a girl named Clarisse."

  Had not Lecoq suddenly grasped Catenac's arm, the lawyer would haveflown at Martin Rigal's throat.

  "Villain, traitor!" panted he, "you have sold me!"

  "My papers have been stolen," faltered the banker.

  He now saw that the blows struck upon the other side of the wall weremerely a trick, for Lecoq had thought that a little preliminary frightwould render them more amenable to reason.

  Hortebise still looked on calmly; he knew that the game was lost.

  "I belong to a respectable family," thought he, "and I will not bringdishonor upon it. I have no time to lose."

  As he spoke he placed the contents of the locket between his lips andswallowed them.

  "Ah," murmured he, as he did so, "with my constitution and digestion, itis really hard to end thus."

  No one had noticed the doctor's movements, for Lecoq had moved thescreen, and was showing the commissary a hole which had been made in thewall large enough for the body of a man to pass through. But a suddensound cut these investigations short, for Hortebise had fallen to theground, and was struggling in a series of terrible convulsions.

  "How stupid of me not to have foreseen this," exclaimed Lecoq. "He haspoisoned himself; let some one run for a doctor. Take him into anotherroom and lay him on a bed."

  While these orders were being carried out, Catenac was removed to acab which was in waiting, and Martin Rigal seemed to have lapsed into astate of moody imbecility. Suddenly he started to his feet, crying,--

  "My daughter Flavia! yes, her name is Flavia, what is to become of her?She has no fortune, and she is married to a man who can never providefor her. My child will perhaps starve. Oh, horrible thought!"

  The man's strong mind had evidently given way, and his love for hischild and the hideous future that lay before her had broken downthe barrier that divides reason from insanity. He was secured by theofficers, raving and struggling. When Lecoq was left alone with theDuke, Paul and Flavia, he cast a glimpse of pity at the young girl,who had crouched down in a corner, and evidently hardly understood theterrible scene that had just passed.

  "Your Grace," said he, turning to the Duke, "you have been the victim ofa foul conspiracy; this young man is not your son; he is Paul Violaine,and is the son of a poor woman who kept a petty haberdashery shop in theprovinces."

  The miserable young fool began to bluster, and attempted to deny thisstatement; but Lecoq opened the door, and Rose appeared in a mostbecoming costume. Paul now made no effort to continue his protestations,but throwing himself on his knees, in whining accents confessed thewhole fraud and pleaded for mercy, promising to give evidence againsthis accomplices.

  "Do not despair, your Grace," said Lecoq, as he conducted the Duke tohis carriage; "this certainly is not your son; but _I_ have found him,and to-morrow, if you like, you shall be introduced to him."