Castles in the Air

  1.

  You must not think for a moment, my dear Sir, that I was ever actuallydeceived in Theodore. Was it likely that I, who am by temperament andhabit accustomed to read human visages like a book, was it likely, Isay, that I would fail to see craftiness in those pale, shifty eyes,deceit in the weak, slobbering mouth, intemperance in the whole aspectof the shrunken, slouchy figure which I had, for my subsequent sorrow,so generously rescued from starvation?

  Generous? I was more than generous to him. They say that the poor arethe friends of the poor, and I told you how poor we were in thosedays! Ah! but poor! my dear Sir, you have no conception! Meat in Parisin the autumn of 1816 was 24 francs the kilo, and milk 1 franc thequarter litre, not to mention eggs and butter, which were delicaciesfar beyond the reach of cultured, well-born people like myself.

  And yet throughout that trying year I fed Theodore--yes, I fed him.He used to share onion pie with me whenever I partook of it, and hehad haricot soup every day, into which I allowed him to boil the skinsof all the sausages and the luscious bones of all the cutlets of whichI happened to partake. Then think what he cost me in drink! Nevercould I leave a half or quarter bottle of wine but he would finish it;his impudent fingers made light of every lock and key. I dared notallow as much as a sou to rest in the pocket of my coat but he wouldferret it out the moment I hung the coat up in the outer room and myback was turned for a few seconds. After a while I was forced--yes, I,Sir, who have spoken on terms of equality with kings--I was forced togo out and make my own purchases in the neighbouring provision shops.And why? Because if I sent Theodore and gave him a few sous wherewithto make these purchases, he would spend the money at the nearestcabaret in getting drunk on absinthe.

  He robbed me, Sir, shamefully, despite the fact that he had ten percent, commission on all the profits of the firm. I gave him twentyfrancs out of the money which I had earned at the sweat of my brow inthe service of Estelle Bachelier. Twenty francs, Sir! Reckoning twohundred francs as business profit on the affair, a generous provisionyou will admit! And yet he taunted me with having received a thousand.This was mere guesswork, of course, and I took no notice of histaunts: did the brains that conceived the business deserve no payment?Was my labour to be counted as dross?--the humiliation, the blowswhich I had to endure while he sat in hoggish content, eating andsleeping without thought for the morrow? After which he calmlypocketed the twenty francs to earn which he had not raised one finger,and then demanded more.

  No, no, my dear Sir, you will believe me or not, that man could not gostraight. Times out of count he would try and deceive me, despite thefact that, once or twice, he very nearly came hopelessly to grief inthe attempt.

  Now, just to give you an instance. About this time Paris was in thegrip of a gang of dog-thieves as unscrupulous and heartless as theywere daring. Can you wonder at it? with that awful penury about and anumber of expensive "tou-tous" running about the streets under thevery noses of the indigent proletariat? The ladies of the aristocracyand of the wealthy bourgeoisie had imbibed this craze for lap-dogsduring their sojourn in England at the time of the emigration, andbeing women of the Latin race and of undisciplined temperament, theywere just then carrying their craze to excess.

  As I was saying, this indulgence led to wholesale thieving. Tou-touswere abstracted from their adoring mistresses with marvellousadroitness; whereupon two or three days would elapse while the adoringmistress wept buckets full of tears and set the police of M. Fouche,Duc d'Otrante, by the ears in search of her pet. The next act in thetragi-comedy would be an anonymous demand for money--varying in amountin accordance with the known or supposed wealth of the lady--and anequally anonymous threat of dire vengeance upon the tou-tou if thepolice were put upon the track of the thieves.

  You will ask me, no doubt, what all this had to do with Theodore.Well! I will tell you.

  You must know that of late he had become extraordinarily haughty andindependent. I could not keep him to his work. His duties were tosweep the office--he did not do it; to light the fires--I had to lightthem myself every morning; to remain in the anteroom and show clientsin--he was never at his post. In fact he was never there when I didwant him: morning, noon and night he was out--gadding about and cominghome, Sir, only to eat and sleep. I was seriously thinking of givinghim the sack. And then one day he disappeared! Yes, Sir, disappearedcompletely as if the earth had swallowed him up. One morning--it wasin the beginning of December and the cold was biting--I arrived at theoffice and found that his chair-bed which stood in the antechamber hadnot been slept in; in fact that it had not been made up overnight. Inthe cupboard I found the remnants of an onion pie, half a sausage, anda quarter of a litre of wine, which proved conclusively that he hadnot been in to supper.

  At first I was not greatly disturbed in my mind. I had found out quiterecently that Theodore had some sort of a squalid home of his ownsomewhere behind the fish-market, together with an old and whollydisreputable mother who plied him with drink whenever he spent anevening with her and either he or she had a franc in their pocket.Still, after these bouts spent in the bosom of his family he usuallyreturned to sleep them off at my expense in my office.

  I had unfortunately very little to do that day, so in the lateafternoon, not having seen anything of Theodore all day, I turned mysteps toward the house behind the fish-market where lived the motherof that ungrateful wretch.

  The woman's surprise when I inquired after her precious son wasundoubtedly genuine. Her lamentations and crocodile tears certainlywere not. She reeked of alcohol, and the one room which she inhabitedwas indescribably filthy. I offered her half a franc if she gave meauthentic news of Theodore, knowing well that for that sum she wouldhave sold him to the devil. But very obviously she knew nothing of hiswhereabouts, and I soon made haste to shake the dirt of her abode frommy heels.

  I had become vaguely anxious.

  I wondered if he had been murdered somewhere down a back street, andif I should miss him very much.

  I did not think that I would.

  Moreover, no one could have any object in murdering Theodore. In hisown stupid way he was harmless enough, and he certainly was notpossessed of anything worth stealing. I myself was not over-fond ofthe man--but I should not have bothered to murder him.

  Still, I was undoubtedly anxious, and slept but little that nightthinking of the wretch. When the following morning I arrived at myoffice and still could see no trace of him, I had serious thoughts ofputting the law in motion on his behalf.

  Just then, however, an incident occurred which drove all thoughts ofsuch an insignificant personage as Theodore from my mind.

  I had just finished tidying up the office when there came a peremptoryring at the outer door, repeated at intervals of twenty seconds or so.It meant giving a hasty glance all round to see that no fragments ofonion pie or of cheap claret lingered in unsuspected places, and itmeant my going, myself, to open the door to my impatient visitor.

  I did it, Sir, and then at the door I stood transfixed. I had seenmany beautiful women in my day--great ladies of the Court, brilliantladies of the Consulate, the Directorate and the Empire--but never inmy life had I seen such an exquisite and resplendent apparition as theone which now sailed through the antechamber of my humble abode.

  Sir, Hector Ratichon's heart has ever been susceptible to the charmsof beauty in distress. This lovely being, Sir, who now at myinvitation entered my office and sank with perfect grace into thearm-chair, was in obvious distress. Tears hung on the fringe of herdark lashes, and the gossamer-like handkerchief which she held in herdainty hand was nothing but a wet rag. She gave herself exactly twominutes wherein to compose herself, after which she dried her eyes andturned the full artillery of her bewitching glance upon me.

  "Monsieur Ratichon," she began, even before I had taken my accustomedplace at my desk and assumed that engaging smile which inspiresconfidence even in the most timorous; "Monsieur Ratichon, they tell methat you are so clever, and--oh! I am in such trouble."

  "
Madame," I rejoined with noble simplicity, "you may trust meto do the impossible in order to be of service to you."

  Admirably put, you will admit. I have always been counted a master ofappropriate diction, and I had been quick enough to note the plainband of gold which encircled the third finger of her dainty left hand,flanked though it was by a multiplicity of diamond, pearl and otherjewelled rings.

  "You are kind, Monsieur Ratichon," resumed the beauteous creature morecalmly. "But indeed you will require all the ingenuity of yourresourceful brain in order to help me in this matter. I am strugglingin the grip of a relentless fate which, if you do not help me, willleave me broken-hearted."

  "Command me, Madame," I riposted quietly.

  From out the daintiest of reticules the fair lady now extracted a verygreasy and very dirty bit of paper, and handed it to me with the briefrequest: "Read this, I pray you, my good M. Ratichon." I took thepaper. It was a clumsily worded, ill-written, ill-spelt demand forfive thousand francs, failing which sum the thing which Madame hadlost would forthwith be destroyed.

  I looked up, puzzled, at my fair client.

  "My darling Carissimo, my dear M. Ratichon," she said in reply to mymute query.

  "Carissimo?" I stammered, yet further intrigued.

  "My darling pet, a valuable creature, the companion of my lonelyhours," she rejoined, once more bursting into tears. "If I lose him,my heart will inevitably break."

  I understood at last.

  "Madame has lost her dog?" I asked.

  She nodded.

  "It has been stolen by one of those expert dog thieves, who then levyblackmail on the unfortunate owner?"

  Again she nodded in assent.

  I read the dirty, almost illegible scrawl through more carefully thistime. It was a clumsy notification addressed to Mme. la Comtesse deNole de St. Pris to the effect that her tou-tou was for the momentsafe, and would be restored to the arms of his fond mistress providedthe sum of five thousand francs was deposited in the hands of thebearer of the missive.

  Minute directions were then given as to where and how the money was tobe deposited. Mme. la Comtesse de Nole was, on the third day from thisat six o'clock in the evening precisely, to go in person and alone tothe angle of the Rue Guenegaud and the Rue Mazarine, at the rear ofthe Institut.

  There two men would meet her, one of whom would have Carissimo in hisarms; to the other she must hand over the money, whereupon the petwould at once be handed back to her. But if she failed to keep thisappointment, or if in the meanwhile she made the slightest attempt totrace the writer of the missive or to lay a trap for his capture bythe police, Carissimo would at once meet with a summary death.

  These were the usual tactics of experienced dog thieves, only that inthis case the demand was certainly exorbitant. Five thousand francs!But even so . . . I cast a rapid and comprehensive glance on thebrilliant apparition before me--the jewelled rings, the diamonds inthe shell-like ears, the priceless fur coat--and with an expressiveshrug of the shoulders I handed the dirty scrap of paper back to itsfair recipient.

  "Alas, Madame," I said, taking care that she should not guess how muchit cost me to give her such advice, "I am afraid that in such casesthere is nothing to be done. If you wish to save your pet you willhave to pay. . ."

  "Ah! but, Monsieur," she exclaimed tearfully, "you don't understand.Carissimo is all the world to me, and this is not the first time, noryet the second, that he has been stolen from me. Three times, my goodM. Ratichon, three times has he been stolen, and three times have Ireceived such peremptory demands for money for his safe return; andevery time the demand has been more and more exorbitant. Less than amonth ago M. le Comte paid three thousand francs for his recovery."

  "Monsieur le Comte?" I queried.

  "My husband, Sir," she replied, with an exquisite air of hauteur."M. le Comte de Nole de St. Pris."

  "Ah, then," I continued calmly, "I fear me that Monsieur de Nole deSt. Pris will have to pay again."

  "But he won't!" she now cried out in a voice broken with sobs, andincontinently once more saturated her gossamer handkerchief with hertears.

  "Then I see nothing for it, Madame," I rejoined, much against my willwith a slight touch of impatience, "I see nothing for it but thatyourself . . ."

  "Ah! but, Monsieur," she retorted, with a sigh that would have melteda heart of stone, "that is just my difficulty. I cannot pay . . ."

  "Madame," I protested.

  "Oh! if I had money of my own," she continued, with an adorablegesture of impatience, "I would not worry. Mais voila: I have not asilver franc of my own to bless myself with. M. le Comte is overgenerous. He pays all my bills without a murmur--he pays mydressmaker, my furrier; he loads me with gifts and dispenses charityon a lavish scale in my name. I have horses, carriages,servants--everything I can possibly want and more, but I never havemore than a few hundred francs to dispose of. Up to now I have neverfor a moment felt the want of money. To-day, when Carissimo is beinglost to me, I feel the entire horror of my position."

  "But surely, Madame," I urged, "M. le Comte . . ."

  "No, Monsieur," she replied. "M. le Comte has flatly refused this timeto pay these abominable thieves for the recovery of Carissimo. Heupbraids himself for having yielded to their demands on the threeprevious occasions. He calls these demands blackmailing, and vows thatto give them money again is to encourage them in their nefariouspractices. Oh! he has been cruel to me, cruel!--for the first time inmy life, Monsieur, my husband has made me unhappy, and if I lose mydarling now I shall indeed be broken-hearted."

  I was silent for a moment or two. I was beginning to wonder what partI should be expected to play in the tragedy which was being unfoldedbefore me by this lovely and impecunious creature.

  "Madame la Comtesse," I suggested tentatively, after a while, "yourjewellery . . . you must have a vast number which you seldom wear. . . five thousand francs is soon made up. . . ."

  You see, Sir, my hopes of a really good remunerative business had bynow dwindled down to vanishing point. All that was left of them was avague idea that the beautiful Comtesse would perhaps employ me as anintermediary for the sale of some of her jewellery, in which case . . .But already her next words disillusioned me even on that point.

  "No, Monsieur," she said; "what would be the use? Through one of theusual perverse tricks of fate, M. le Comte would be sure to inquireafter the very piece of jewellery of which I had so disposed, andmoreover . . ."

  "Moreover--yes, Mme. la Comtesse?"

  "Moreover, my husband is right," she concluded decisively. "If I givein to those thieves to-day and pay them five thousand francs, theywould only set to work to steal Carissimo again and demand tenthousand francs from me another time."

  I was silent. What could I say? Her argument was indeed unanswerable.

  "No, my good M. Ratichon," she said very determinedly after a while."I have quite decided that you must confound those thieves. They havegiven me three days' grace, as you see in their abominable letter. Ifafter three days the money is not forthcoming, and if in the meanwhileI dare to set a trap for them or in any way communicate with thepolice, my darling Carissimo will be killed and my heart be broken."

  "Madame la Comtesse," I entreated, for of a truth I could not bear tosee her cry again.

  "You must bring Carissimo back to me, M. Ratichon," she continuedperemptorily, "before those awful three days have elapsed."

  "I swear that I will," I rejoined solemnly; but I must admit that Idid it entirely on the spur of the moment, for of a truth I saw noprospect whatever of being able to accomplish what she desired.

  "Without my paying a single louis to those execrable thieves," theexquisite creature went on peremptorily,

  "It shall be done, Madame la Comtesse."

  "And let me tell you," she now added, with the sweetest and archest ofsmiles, "that if you succeed in this, M. le Comte de Nole de St. Priswill gladly pay you the five thousand francs which he refuses to giveto those miscreants."

 
Five thousand francs! A mist swam before my eyes,

  "Mais, Madame la Comtesse . . ." I stammered.

  "Oh!" she added, with an adorable uptilting of her little chin, "I amnot promising what I cannot fulfil. M. le Comte de Nole only saidthis morning, apropos of dog thieves, that he would gladly give tenthousand francs to anyone who succeeded in ridding society of suchpests."

  I could have knelt down on the hard floor, Sir, and . . .

  "Well then, Madame," was my ready rejoinder, "why not ten thousandfrancs to me?"

  She bit her coral lips . . . but she also smiled. I could see thatmy personality and my manners had greatly impressed her.

  "I will only be responsible for the first five thousand," she saidlightly. "But, for the rest, I can confidently assure you that youwill not find a miser in M. le Comte de Nole de St. Pris."

  I could have knelt down on the hard floor, Sir, and kissed herexquisitely shod feet. Five thousand francs certain! Perhaps ten! Afortune, Sir, in those days! One that would keep me in comfort--nay,affluence, until something else turned up. I was swimming in theempyrean and only came rudely to earth when I recollected that Ishould have to give Theodore something for his share of the business.Ah! fortunately that for the moment he was comfortably out of the way!Thoughts that perhaps he had been murdered after all once more coursedthrough my brain: not unpleasantly, I'll admit. I would not haveraised a finger to hurt the fellow, even though he had treated me withthe basest ingratitude and treachery; but if someone else took thetrouble to remove him, why indeed should I quarrel with fate?

  Back I came swiftly to the happy present. The lovely creature wasshowing me a beautifully painted miniature of Carissimo, a KingCharles spaniel of no common type. This she suggested that I shouldkeep by me for the present for purposes of identification. After thiswe had to go into the details of the circumstances under which she hadlost her pet. She had been for a walk with him, it seems, along theQuai Voltaire, and was returning home by the side of the river, whensuddenly a number of workmen in blouses and peaked caps came troopingout of a side street and obstructed her progress. She had Carissimo onthe lead, and she at once admitted to me that at first she neverthought of connecting this pushing and jostling rabble with anypossible theft. She held her ground for awhile, facing the crowd: fora few moments she was right in the midst of it, and just then she feltthe dog straining at the lead. She turned round at once with theintention of picking him up, when to her horror she saw that there wasonly a bundle of something weighty at the end of the lead, and thatthe dog had disappeared.

  The whole incident occurred, the lovely creature declared, within thespace of thirty seconds; the next instant the crowd had scattered inseveral directions, the men running and laughing as they went. Mme. laComtesse was left standing alone on the quay. Not a passer-by insight, and the only gendarme visible, a long way down the Quai, hadhis back turned toward her. Nevertheless she ran and hied him, andpresently he turned and, realizing that something was amiss, he tooran to meet her. He listened to her story, swore lustily, but shruggedhis shoulders in token that the tale did not surprise him and that butlittle could be done. Nevertheless he at once summoned those of hiscolleagues who were on duty in the neighbourhood, and one of them wentoff immediately to notify the theft at the nearest commissariat ofpolice. After which they all proceeded to a comprehensive scouring ofthe many tortuous sidestreets of the quartier; but, needless to say,there was no sign of Carissimo or of his abductors.

  That night my lovely client went home distracted.

  The following evening, when, broken-hearted, she wandered down thequays living over again the agonizing moments during which she losther pet, a workman in a blue blouse, with a peaked cap pulled wellover his eyes, lurched up against her and thrust into her hand themissive which she had just shown me. He then disappeared into thenight, and she had only the vaguest possible recollection of hisappearance.

  That, Sir, was the substance of the story which the lovely creaturetold me in a voice oft choked with tears. I questioned her veryclosely and in my most impressive professional manner as to theidentity of any one man among the crowd who might have attracted herattention, but all that she could tell me was that she had a vagueimpression of a wizened hunchback with evil face, shaggy red beardand hair, and a black patch covering the left eye.