Castles in the Air

  1.

  Ah, my dear Sir, it is easy enough to despise our profession, butbelieve me that all the finer qualities--those of loyalty and oftruth--are essential, not only to us, but to our subordinates, if weare to succeed in making even a small competence out of it.

  Now let me give you an instance. Here was I, Hector Ratichon, settledin Paris in that eventful year 1816 which saw the new order of thingsfinally swept aside and the old order resume its triumphant sway,which saw us all, including our God-given King Louis XVIII, as poor asthe proverbial church mice and as eager for a bit of comfort andluxury as a hungry dog is for a bone; the year which saw the armydisbanded and hordes of unemployed and unemployable men wanderingdisconsolate and half starved through the country seeking in vain forsome means of livelihood, while the Allied troops, well fed and wellclothed, stalked about as if the sacred soil of France was so muchdirt under their feet; the year, my dear Sir, during which moreintrigues were hatched and more plots concocted than in any previouscentury in the whole history of France. We were all trying to makemoney, since there was so precious little of it about. Those of us whohad brains succeeded, and then not always.

  Now, I had brains--I do not boast of them; they are a gift fromHeaven--but I had them, and good looks, too, and a general air ofstrength, coupled with refinement, which was bound to appeal to anyoneneeding help and advice, and willing to pay for both, and yet--but youshall judge.

  You know my office in the Rue Daunou, you have been in it--plainlyfurnished; but, as I said, these were not days of luxury. There was anantechamber, too, where that traitor, blackmailer and thief, Theodore,my confidential clerk in those days, lodged at my expense and keptimportunate clients at bay for what was undoubtedly a liberalsalary--ten per cent, on all the profits of the business--and yet hewas always complaining, the ungrateful, avaricious brute!

  Well, Sir, on that day in September--it was the tenth, Iremember--1816, I must confess that I was feeling exceedinglydejected. Not one client for the last three weeks, half a franc in mypocket, and nothing but a small quarter of Strasburg patty in thelarder. Theodore had eaten most of it, and I had just sent him out tobuy two sous' worth of stale bread wherewith to finish the remainder.But after that? You will admit, Sir, that a less buoyant spirit wouldnot have remained so long undaunted.

  I was just cursing that lout Theodore inwardly, for he had been gonehalf an hour, and I strongly suspected him of having spent my two souson a glass of absinthe, when there was a ring at the door, and I,Hector Ratichon, the confidant of kings and intimate counsellor ofhalf the aristocracy in the kingdom, was forced to go and open thedoor just like a common lackey.

  But here the sight which greeted my eyes fully compensated me for thetemporary humiliation, for on the threshold stood a gentleman who hadwealth written plainly upon his fine clothes, upon the dainty linen athis throat and wrists, upon the quality of his rich satin necktie andthe perfect set of his fine cloth pantaloons, which were of anexquisite shade of dove-grey. When, then, the apparition spoke,inquiring with just a sufficiency of aristocratic hauteur whether M.Hector Ratichon were in, you cannot be surprised, my dear Sir, that mydejection fell from me like a cast-off mantle and that all my usualurbanity of manner returned to me as I informed the elegant gentlemanthat M. Ratichon was even now standing before him, and begged him totake the trouble to pass through into my office.

  This he did, and I placed a chair in position for him. He sat down,having previously dusted the chair with a graceful sweep of hislace-edged handkerchief. Then he raised a gold-rimmed eyeglass to hisright eye with a superlatively elegant gesture, and surveyed mecritically for a moment or two ere he said:

  "I am told, my good M. Ratichon, that you are a trustworthy fellow,and one who is willing to undertake a delicate piece of business for amoderate honorarium."

  Except for the fact that I did not like the word "moderate," I wasenchanted with him.

  "Rumour for once has not lied, Monsieur," I replied in my mostattractive manner.

  "Well," he rejoined--I won't say curtly, but with businesslikebrevity, "for all purposes connected with the affair which I desire totreat with you my name, as far as you are concerned, shall be JeanDuval. Understand?"

  "Perfectly, Monsieur le Marquis," I replied with a bland smile.

  It was a wild guess, but I don't think that I underestimated my newclient's rank, for he did not wince.

  "You know Mlle. Mars?" he queried.

  "The actress?" I replied. "Perfectly."

  "She is playing in _Le Reve_ at the Theatre Royal just now."

  "She is."

  "In the first and third acts of the play she wears a gold bracelet setwith large green stones."

  "I noticed it the other night. I had a seat in the parterre, I maysay."

  "I want that bracelet," broke in the soi-disant Jean Duvalunceremoniously. "The stones are false, the gold strass. I admireMlle. Mars immensely. I dislike seeing her wearing false jewellery. Iwish to have the bracelet copied in real stones, and to present it toher as a surprise on the occasion of the twenty-fifth performance of_Le Reve_. It will cost me a king's ransom, and her, for the timebeing, an infinite amount of anxiety. She sets great store by thevalueless trinket solely because of the merit of its design, and Iwant its disappearance to have every semblance of a theft. All thegreater will be the lovely creature's pleasure when, at my hands, shewill receive an infinitely precious jewel the exact counterpart in allsave its intrinsic value of the trifle which she had thought lost."

  It all sounded deliciously romantic. A flavour of the pastcentury--before the endless war and abysmal poverty had killed allchivalry in us--clung to this proposed transaction. There was nothingof the roturier, nothing of a Jean Duval, in this polished man of theworld who had thought out this subtle scheme for ingratiating himselfin the eyes of his lady fair.

  I murmured an appropriate phrase, placing my services entirely at M.le Marquis's disposal, and once more he broke in on my polisheddiction with that brusquerie which betrayed the man accustomed to besilently obeyed.

  "Mlle. Mars wears the bracelet," he said, "during the third act of _LeReve_. At the end of the act she enters her dressing-room, and hermaid helps her to change her dress. During this entr'acte Mademoisellewith her own hands puts by all the jewellery which she has to wearduring the more gorgeous scenes of the play. In the last act--thefinale of the tragedy--she appears in a plain stuff gown, whilst allher jewellery reposes in the small iron safe in her dressing-room. Itis while Mademoiselle is on the stage during the last act that I wantyou to enter her dressing-room and to extract the bracelet out of thesafe for me."

  "I, M. le Marquis?" I stammered. "I, to steal a--"

  "Firstly, M.--er--er--Ratichon, or whatever your confounded name maybe," interposed my client with inimitable hauteur, "understand that myname is Jean Duval, and if you forget this again I shall be under thenecessity of laying my cane across your shoulders and incidentally totake my business elsewhere. Secondly, let me tell you that youraffectations of outraged probity are lost on me, seeing that I knowall about the stolen treaty which--"

  "Enough, M. Jean Duval," I said with a dignity equal, if not greater,than his own; "do not, I pray you, misunderstand me. I am ready to doyou service. But if you will deign to explain how I am to break openan iron safe inside a crowded building and extract therefrom atrinket, without being caught in the act and locked up forhouse-breaking and theft, I shall be eternally your debtor."

  "The extracting of the trinket is your affair," he rejoined dryly. "Iwill give you five hundred francs if you bring the bracelet to mewithin fourteen days."

  "But--" I stammered again.

  "Your task will not be such a difficult one after all. I will give youthe duplicate key of the safe."

  He dived into the breast pocket of his coat, and drew from it asomewhat large and clumsy key, which he placed upon my desk.

  "I managed to get that easily enough," he said nonchalantly, "a coupleof nights ago, when I had the honour of visi
ting Mademoiselle in herdressing-room. A piece of wax in my hand, Mademoiselle's momentaryabsorption in her reflection while her maid was doing her hair, andthe impression of the original key was in my possession. But betweentaking a model of the key and the actual theft of the bracelet out ofthe safe there is a wide gulf which a gentleman cannot bridge over.Therefore, I choose to employ you, M.--er--er--Ratichon, to completethe transaction for me."

  "For five hundred francs?" I queried blandly.

  "It is a fair sum," he argued.

  "Make it a thousand," I rejoined firmly, "and you shall have thebracelet within fourteen days."

  He paused a moment in order to reflect; his steel-grey eyes, cool anddisdainful, were fixed searchingly on my face. I pride myself on theway that I bear that kind of scrutiny, so even now I looked bland andwithal purposeful and capable.

  "Very well," he said, after a few moments, and he rose from his chairas he spoke; "it shall be a thousand francs, M.--er--er--Ratichon, andI will hand over the money to you in exchange for the bracelet--but itmust be done within fourteen days, remember."

  I tried to induce him to give me a small sum on account. I was aboutto take terrible risks, remember; housebreaking, larceny, theft--callit what you will, it meant the _police correctionelle_ and a couple ofyears in New Orleans for sure. He finally gave me fifty francs, andonce more threatened to take his business elsewhere, so I had toaccept and to look as urbane and dignified as I could.

  He was out of the office and about to descend the stairs when athought struck me.

  "Where and how can I communicate with M. Jean Duval," I asked, "whenmy work is done?"

  "I will call here," he replied, "at ten o'clock of every morning thatfollows a performance of _Le Reve_. We can complete our transactionthen across your office desk."

  The next moment he was gone. Theodore passed him on the stairs andasked me, with one of his impertinent leers, whether we had a newclient and what we might expect from him. I shrugged my shoulders. "Anew client!" I said disdainfully. "Bah! Vague promises of a couple oflouis for finding out if Madame his wife sees more of a certaincaptain of the guards than Monsieur the husband cares about."

  Theodore sniffed. He always sniffs when financial matters are on thetapis.

  "Anything on account?" he queried.

  "A paltry ten francs," I replied, "and I may as well give you yourshare of it now."

  I tossed a franc to him across the desk. By the terms of my contractwith him, you understand, he was entitled to ten per cent, of everyprofit accruing from the business in lieu of wages, but in thisinstance do you not think that I was justified in looking on one francnow, and perhaps twenty when the transaction was completed, as a morethan just honorarium for his share in it? Was I not taking all therisks in this delicate business? Would it be fair for me to give him ahundred francs for sitting quietly in the office or sipping absintheat a neighbouring bar whilst I risked New Orleans--not to speak of thegallows?

  He gave me a strange look as he picked up the silver franc, spat on itfor luck, bit it with his great yellow teeth to ascertain if it werecounterfeit or genuine, and finally slipped it into his pocket, andshuffled out of the office whistling through his teeth.

  An abominably low, deceitful creature, that Theodore, you will seeanon. But I won't anticipate.