Castles in the Air

  4.

  Desperate evils need desperate remedies. I spent the rest of the nightthinking hard. By the time that dawn was breaking my mind was made up.Theodore's stertorous breathing assured me that he was stillinsentient. I was muscular in those days, and he a meagre, attenuated,drink-sodden creature. I lifted him out of his bed in the antechamberand carried him into mine in the office. I found a coil of rope, andstrapped him tightly in the chair-bedstead so that he could not move.I tied a scarf round his mouth so that he could not scream. Then, atsix o'clock, when the humbler eating-houses begin to take down theirshutters, I went out.

  I had Theodore's five francs in my pocket, and I was desperatelyhungry. I spent ten sous on a cup of coffee and a plate of friedonions and haricot beans, and three francs on a savoury pie, highlyflavoured with garlic, and a quarter-bottle of excellent cognac. Idrank the coffee and ate the onions and the beans, and I took the pieand cognac home.

  I placed a table close to the chair-bedstead and on it I disposed thepie and the cognac in such a manner that the moment Theodore woke hiseyes were bound to alight on them. Then I waited. I absolutely achedto have a taste of that pie myself, it smelt so good, but I waited.

  Theodore woke at nine o'clock. He struggled like a fool, but he stillappeared half dazed. No doubt he thought that he was dreaming. Then Isat down on the edge of the bed and cut myself off a large piece ofthe pie. I ate it with marked relish in front of Theodore, whose eyesnearly started out of their sockets. Then I brewed myself a cup ofcoffee. The mingled odour of coffee and garlic filled the room. It wasdelicious. I thought that Theodore would have a fit. The veins stoodout on his forehead and a kind of gurgle came from behind the scarfround his mouth. Then I told him he could partake of the pie andcoffee if he told me what he had done with the bracelet. He shook hishead furiously, and I left the pie, the cognac and the coffee on thetable before him and went into the antechamber, closing the officedoor behind me, and leaving him to meditate on his treachery.

  What I wanted to avoid above everything was the traitor meeting M.Jean Duval. He had the bracelet--of that I was as convinced as that Iwas alive. But what could he do with a piece of false jewellery? Hecould not dispose of it, save to a vendor of theatrical properties,who no doubt was well acquainted with the trinket and would not givemore than a couple of francs for what was obviously stolen property.After all, I had promised Theodore twenty francs; he would not be sucha fool as to sell that birthright for a mess of pottage and the solepleasure of doing me a bad turn.

  There was no doubt in my mind that he had put the thing away somewherein what he considered a safe place pending a reward being offered byMlle. Mars for the recovery of the bracelet. The more I thought ofthis the more convinced I was that that was, indeed, his proposed planof action--oh, how I loathed the blackleg!--and mine henceforth wouldbe to dog his every footstep and never let him out of my sight until Iforced him to disgorge his ill-gotten booty.

  At ten o'clock M. Jean Duval arrived, as was his wont, superciliousand brusque as usual. I was just explaining to him that I hoped tohave excellent news for him after the next performance of _Le Reve_when there was a peremptory ring at the bell. I went to open the door,and there stood a police inspector in uniform with a sheaf of papersin his hand.

  Now, I am not over-fond of our Paris police; they poke their noses inwhere they are least wanted. Their incompetence favours themachinations of rogues and frustrates the innocent ambitions of thejust. However, in this instance the inspector looked amiable enough,though his manner, I must say, was, as usual, unpleasantly curt.

  "Here, Ratichon," he said, "there has been an impudent theft of avaluable bracelet out of Mademoiselle Mars' dressing-room at theTheatre Royal last night. You and your mate frequent all sorts ofplaces of ill-fame; you may hear something of the affair."

  I chose to ignore the insult, and the inspector detached a paper fromthe sheaf which he held and threw it across the table to me.

  "There is a reward of two thousand five hundred francs," he said, "forthe recovery of the bracelet. You will find on that paper an accuratedescription of the jewel. It contains the celebrated Maroni emerald,presented to the ex-Emperor by the Sultan, and given by him to Mlle.Mars."

  Whereupon he turned unceremoniously on his heel and went, leaving meface to face with the man who had so shamefully tried to swindle me. Iturned, and resting my elbow on the table and my chin in my hand, Ilooked mutely on the soi-disant Jean Duval and equally mutely pointedwith an accusing finger to the description of the famous braceletwhich he had declared to me was merely strass and base metal.

  But he had the impudence to turn on me before I could utter asyllable.

  "Where is the bracelet?" he demanded. "You consummate liar, you! Whereis it? You stole it last night! What have you done with it?"

  "I extracted, at your request," I replied with as much dignity as Icould command, "a piece of theatrical jewellery, which you stated tome to be worthless, out of an iron chest, the key of which you placedin my hands. I . . ."

  "Enough of this rubbish!" he broke in roughly. "You have the bracelet.Give it me now, or . . ."

  He broke off and looked somewhat alarmed in the direction of theoffice door, from the other side of which there had just come a loudcrash, followed by loud, if unintelligible, vituperation. What hadhappened I could not guess; all that I could do was to carry off thesituation as boldly as I dared.

  "You shall have the bracelet, Sir," I said in my most suave manner."You shall have it, but not unless you will pay me three thousandfrancs for it. I can get two thousand five hundred by taking itstraight to Mlle. Mars."

  "And be taken up by the police for stealing it," he retorted. "Howwill you explain its being in your possession?"

  I did not blanch.

  "That is my affair," I replied. "Will you give me three thousandfrancs for it? It is worth sixty thousand francs to a clever thieflike you."

  "You hound!" he cried, livid with rage, and raised his cane as if hewould strike me.

  "Aye, it was cleverly done, M. Jean Duval, whoever you may be. I knowthat the gentleman-thief is a modern product of the old regime, but Idid not know that the fraternity could show such a fine specimen asyourself. Pay Hector Ratichon a thousand francs for stealing abracelet for you worth sixty! Indeed, M. Jean Duval, you deserved tosucceed!"

  Again he shook his cane at me.

  "If you touch me," I declared boldly, "I shall take the bracelet atonce to Mlle. Mars."

  He bit his lip and made a great effort to pull himself together.

  "I haven't three thousand francs by me," he said.

  "Go, fetch the money," I retorted, "and I'll fetch the bracelet."

  He demurred for a while, but I was firm, and after he had threatenedto thrash me, to knock me down, and to denounce me to the police, hegave in and went to fetch the money.