CHAPTER XVII.
A DOG AND HIS MASTER.
For a long moment after this announcement, Radwalader stared at thespeaker curiously. Vicot had straightened himself, and met his eyes witha kind of boldness which he had never shown before.
"He is my son!" he repeated presently. "Sit down, Radwalader. You may aswell hear the whole story. My name's no more Vicot than yours is. It'sJohn Vane, and twenty-five years ago it was as respected as any inBoston. I'd everything to live for, as the saying is, and I might haverealized it all; but, except for about a year, just after I leftcollege, I never seemed to get a grip on things. I had money--perhapsthat was the trouble. Everything came my way for a time, but I mixedmyself up in speculation, and it wasn't long before I found myselfruined. I--I was married. My wife stuck to me, even after I began todrink, but after the liquor'd had a chance to make me about what I'vebeen ever since you've known me, and I saw that she was beginning todespise me, I grew--or thought I grew--to hate her. We were living in awretched little house in Kingsbridge, the drink was gaining on me everyday, and things got worse and worse. I expect I was brutal to her,though half the time I didn't know what I was saying. Anyhow, she drewfarther and farther away from me, till after a few months the fact thatwe were man and wife was nothing more than a hideous burlesque. Shewouldn't let me touch her, she'd hardly answer when I spoke to her, andthat made me furious. The conditions were intolerable, maddening: andwhen another woman came into my life, who flattered me and seemed fondof me and had enough money for us both, I saw a way of escape. Ideserted my wife, soothing what little conscience I had left, with thethought that she'd go back to her father, be cared for, and thinkherself well rid of me. I sailed for Liverpool with the other. That wastwenty-one years ago--on Thanksgiving Day, 1879. For a little, Ireformed, but the old habits came back, of course, and, the first Iknew, I was done by as I'd done. My--my companion left me, with a smallmonthly allowance and the information that this would be continued solong as I made no attempt to see her. She knew me pretty well by then,you see! And she was right. I accepted, and for fifteen years I managedto live on this pittance, drifting all over Europe and turning my handto whatever job came my way. Then she died, and the allowance came to anend. I was here in Paris, strapped; and it was then you caught me inwhat was, for me, too bold an attempt at swindling--the case of Mr.Rutherford, of course. You knew me for a thief and a forger, and I wasfully prepared to have you turn me over to the police, when I discoveredthat you were no better than myself, and that your knowledge was to beused not to betray, but merely to intimidate me. You know the rest--upto the moment when you told me that I was to become the servant of Mr.Vane.
"All this time I had never so much as heard of his existence.Indirectly, I'd learned of my wife's death, but that it was because ofthe birth of a child--that I never knew. Even when I heard the name Iwasn't more than momentarily startled. It's not an uncommon one, andnothing was farther from my mind than the thought that I might have ason. But it was only a few days before I guessed. The name 'Andrew' gaveme the first clue. It's his grandfather's. Then, when I began to probeinto his letters, as you'd told me to, I soon learned the truth. And,from the moment I was sure, my mind was made up. I'd made a botch of myown life, and here I was engaged in an attempt to make a botch of his.Well, then, I wouldn't. The time didn't seem right for saying anythingto you. I thought I could do more good by keeping mum, and watching. Ifyou'll look back--" and Vicot's voice took on a new note ofpride--"you'll find that I haven't given you a scrap of informationwhich would tend to damage him in any way, or put him in your power."
"That," observed Radwalader, "appears, from my knowledge of the case,to have been simply because you didn't know anything worth telling. Ithought I was going to need your services, but, as it happened, Ididn't. Things went very well by themselves."
"But it was only last night," continued Vicot, after a moment, "that Irealized what this boy meant to me. After you'd gone out to dinner, Ipicked up what was lying on that table. I'd never seen it before. Eitherit had just come, or else he's kept it locked up. Do you remember whatit was? It was that picture--there!"
He flung out one hand passionately, pointing at the miniature on themantel behind Radwalader.
"Look! I found _that_--the picture of my wife and the mother of my son!"
Radwalader rose slowly, turned, walked across to the mantel, and bentforward to examine the picture. As Vicot continued, the vague expressionof interest on the other's face deepened to one of eager scrutiny. Hiseyebrows came together, as of one who strives to recollect, and then asmall, sneering smile began to curl the corners of his lips.
"That settled the question. As I say, I've made a rotten failure ofeverything, but there's one chance left! When I saw her picture, I sawmy duty, and I was glad--my God! how glad I was! So now I'm resolved.You can do as you please. You can say what you will. You can flay mealive, if you like, or send me to the galleys, or ruin me in anyfashion in your power. I've seen the picture of the woman I wronged,and I've seen my way to make good. From somewhere, perhaps, she'll seeand understand. He's my son! Do as you think best--you'll never harmhim. He shall marry this girl he loves, and that without a word out ofyour mouth--curse you! I'm not afraid for myself. My life's over. Butthe sins of the fathers shall _not_ be visited upon the children! GodAlmighty Himself won't deny me this chance. And _there_ is my highesttrump, Master Radwalader. Can you take the trick?"
"_Yes_, by God!" exclaimed Radwalader, wheeling full upon him, "and withthe ace! I knew that face last night, though at the time I couldn'tplace it. So _that_ is the woman you deserted at Kingsbridge twenty-oneyears ago--your wife--the mother of Andrew Vane! Oh, don't assure me!_I_ know you're telling the truth, right enough, but I know more thanthat. Shall I tell you? Well, then, what _you_ rejected _I_ picked up;what _you_ were fool enough to desert _I_ was wise enough to appreciate._Your wife_--ho! You tell me that she wouldn't answer you when you spoketo her, that for months she wouldn't let you touch her, that yourmarriage was a farce. Here is what _I_ tell _you_. I found no suchdifficulty. She answered me readily enough she took my hand before I'dknown her five minutes, and everything she denied you, she gave to me!Do you understand what _that_ means? It means that if the father ofAndrew Vane is alive to-day, he's not alive in the person of JulesVicot or of John Vane, but in that of Thomas Radwalader!"
He threw himself violently into the chair again, and his nervous tensionsnapped in a shrill laugh. As the last words left his lips, it was as ifan unseen hand had snuffed out the light in the eyes of the man who hadbeen John Vane. His exaltation left him, and he braced himself rigidlyagainst the desk, leaning far back, and staring, staring through thesingular, dull film which had come across his pupils. He gave no audibleevidence, until Radwalader had spoken again, that he had understood oreven heard.
"What a witch Fate is! What hands she deals! A moment since, you werenearer to having me in a tight place, Jules--er--Mr. Vane, than you everhave been, or than you're ever likely to be again. There's just onething against which I've never been able to secure myself, and that isthe possibility of some sudden, overmastering emotion in those whom I'mforced to trust. I've never been so unfortunate as to run foul of itbefore, but when you were trumpeting remorse, and self-sacrifice, andatonement, and so forth, a moment ago, I confess I thought you had theodd trick. With hysteria, all things are possible, and a majorityprobable. If Andrew Vane had been in reality your son, and you'd notchosen to believe that I'd no further plans in regard to him, you mighthave done me an infinite deal of harm. You disturbed me--you disturbedme considerably, Mr. Vane. But, lo and behold! a turn of the wheel, athrow of the dice, a deal of the cards, and I am able, with extremerelish, to snap my fingers in your face--because, since he is _not_ yourson, but mine, you're going to keep your mouth shut even more tightly inthe future than you have in the past! If you'd not been an idiot, aswell as a coward, you'd have known long ago that my hold over you hasn'tbeen worth the paper on which it was written. My very sile
nce about whatI knew of the Rutherford swindle made me an accessory after the fact.Strange you didn't think of that! But now--things are very different.You'll keep your mouth shut, my dear Mr. Vane, because, while nothingbut shame could have come to the boy by the revelation that he was yourson, the shame would be multiplied a thousand-fold by the publicadmission that he is mine!"
As he paused, the other blinked, and strove in vain for an instantbefore he could find his voice.
"A lie!" he murmured hoarsely. "All a damned lie!"
"Let's see if it is," answered Radwalader. "I don't deal in thatdangerous commodity if I can avoid it. There never was a lie yet whichit wasn't possible, sooner or later, to nail: and that in itself isenough to make me fight shy. I never take unnecessary risks. Besides, inthe present instance, the truth fits my needs to a nicety. So I thinkyou'll believe what I'm going to tell you."
Vicot gave a short, bewildered nod, seeming to ask him to continue.
"The facts, then, are these: After having disgraced, and, presumably,maltreated, the woman who had the misfortune to be your wife, youdeserted her, by your own confession, and thereby, as no doubt you willconcede, relinquished whatever claim you had upon her, and all right ofsupervision or control over what she chose to do. You left her inpoverty and wretchedness--and I found her. You sought escape andconsolation: she did the same. You found them in the company of anotherwoman: she found them in the company of another man. I was so happy asto be that man. _Voila!_ It's quite simple."
"Lies--all lies!" broke in Vicot passionately. "She was not that kind.She was a saint on earth!"
"Ah, you've learned to appreciate her!"
"Never in God's world would she have stooped to you--unless you broughtdeceit to bear."
Vicot was picking feverishly at the edge of the desk, his filmed eyesshifting and shifting in their sockets.
"Well, then--yes!" said Radwalader. "If I'm nothing else, at least I'mloyal to the women who--er--have, as you courteously put it, stooped tome. I _did_ bring deceit to bear. I was interested in mesmerism in thosedays, and highly adept. When I came upon her, by merest chance, she wasdesperate, unstrung, and, I think, on the point of collapse. In a verynatural attempt to calm her, I put forth an influence which had alreadybeen proved considerable. To my surprise she yielded completely to it,and passed, almost before I realized what I'd done, into a state ofprofound trance, in which I found her wholly subject to my will. Up tothat moment--believe me or not, as you choose--I had no ulterior motive.But when I found her walking, talking as I desired, interest led me on.I directed her back to the town--we met on a hill-road back ofit--willing her to lead me to her home. I'd some thought of explainingmatters to her family, but when I found that she apparently had none,when I saw the squalor and dreariness in which she lived, curiosityimpelled me to question her, and from her unconscious answers I gainedenough to confirm my present knowledge of who she was. Then--I was buthuman--she was very beautiful--the circumstances--"
"Stop!" broke in Vicot. "I understand what you're going to say."
"So much the better: we're saved the necessity of going into unpleasantdetails. Suffice it to say that what happened, happened. Already, as wewalked together, I'd said enough to impress my mentality upon hers, tomake her mind my property, and her will subject to mine. When I left herI meant to go back, to help and uplift her, to marry her, perhaps. Whoknows? I was very young then and a good deal of a pedant."
"So you never went back," said Vicot. "You left her--_like that_!"
"Just as you'd left her, the same day," retorted Radwalader, hiscomplacency quite restored. "Don't let's get to recriminations. I fancyit's a case of pot and kettle."
"All this doesn't prove that the boy's not mine," exclaimed the other,with sudden energy.
Radwalader rose, came quite close to him, and said with a little sneer:
"Do you think it's likely? It's a question of the simplest arithmetic.Vane's not yet twenty-one--and what have you told me? Lookback--calculate."
Vicot made no reply. He was peering at Radwalader's face, and presentlyhe whispered:
"My God! _He's even got your eyes!_"
"From the sublime to the ridiculous," said Radwalader. "A moment since,you were spouting heroic sentiments, and had me so obviously at adisadvantage that I--yes, I was almost afraid of you. Now we're partiesto a _denouement_ which would seem to have come from the pen of AlfredCapus."
"What do you mean to do?" asked Vicot lifelessly.
"Do? Why, nothing. What is there to do, except to be thankful that adiscerning Providence has put it out of your power to injure me. Theboy's mine--there can't be a doubt of it--and if you so much as openyour lips on the subject, you not only disgrace yourself and me, butAndrew as well, and, most of all, the memory of your wife. That'senough: I'm satisfied. Sheer common-sense will show you, as it showsme, that silence is the only course. Andrew believes, as does every oneelse, that his father is dead. We alone, of all men, know the truth--andwe agree to hold our tongues."
"If I could trust you!" exclaimed Vicot, "but I can't--I _can't_! You'velaid a trap for him--you know you have!--just as you did for the others,because he's young, and reckless, and rich! You called me in to helpyou, and probably the Tremonceau girl as well. Oh, I know how it'sworked! Well, that's why I must stick by him, and guard him, and see toit that he can marry the girl he wants to--"
Suddenly Radwalader laughed.
"Why, what an ass it is!" he said. "Look here, you mountebank! The onlyperson who has brought Andrew Vane into trouble, from the very beginningof all this, is _you_! I couldn't _make_ him compromise himself: I couldonly set the bait. He nibbled at it, to be sure, but he was never in mypower or Mirabelle Tremonceau's for a moment. He loved another girl. Hewent to her and asked her to marry him, and she refused him, but he'd nosooner left her than she thought better of it and sent for him. If thatmessage had reached him, he would never have seen Mirabelle again; butit didn't reach him, and, quite naturally, he took the next best thing.Now she's his mistress, and he's just where I've wanted to have him allalong. For all this, Mr. Vane, I have only you to thank!"
"I?" repeated Vicot. "What have I to do with it?"
"This much: that, while you've been planning to keep him out of mypower, the very thing that would have done so once and for all has beenlying in your pocket. A moment ago you laid a telegram upon the table.It's still there. Open it!"
Slowly, wonderingly, Vicot tore the blue paper open and read aloud thefive words which it contained:
"Come back to me. MARGERY."
Radwalader slipped his hands into his pockets.
"Exactly," he said. "Do you see?"
"But you said, only a little while ago," stammered Vicot, "that the gamewas up--that you wouldn't do anything more."
"Only by way of shutting your mouth," said Radwalader coolly. "Sincethen there've been developments. When I said that, I was, as I'vealready told you, anxious to get rid of you. Now--well, you won't blabin any event, because the small sum of money which it will cost Vane toget rid of Mirabelle is nothing compared with what it would mean to himif you forced me into pitting my knowledge of his origin against youraccusations of me."
"And so," cried Vicot furiously, "you're determined to hold this overhim. You'll hound him and hound him--damn you!--till perhaps you'lldrive him desperate--till you drive him to kill himself--and end up inthe Morgue, like young Baxter--and then you'll go and look at him,staring out through the glass--and you'll smile and light a cigaretteand whistle 'Au Clair de la Lune'! You hell-hound!"
He flung himself forward, as if he would have seized the other by thethroat, halted suddenly as Radwalader's right hand came from his pocket,and stooped, staring cross-eyed into the shining mouth of a revolver,held without a tremor six inches from his contorted face.
"Get back, you dog!" said Radwalader; and at the words, as if he hadbeen a dog indeed, Vicot shuddered, went limp, and sank whimpering athis master's feet.
"Now listen to me as well as you're ab
le," continued Radwalader. "If youstir hand or foot in this matter, you're a lost man. It's no longer theold story: you know what's at stake _now_! I don't know what thismadness of yours may lead you to, but I've myself to protect, and youmay rest assured I'll do that, no matter at what cost. If, through somedistorted and drunken idea of protecting him, you betray me, I'll houndyou--since you talk of hounding--as never was a man hounded before. I'dsacrifice not only you, not only Vane, not only the memory of hismother, but myself into the bargain. If I pull down all Paris about myears, I'll beat you, do you hear?--I'll beat you, my man--I'll beatyou!"
As he finished, Vicot dragged himself to his elbows and looked up. Hisface was ghastly, and wet with ridiculous insensate tears.
"All right, Radwalader," he whined. "Do as you please, only for God'ssake don't let this get out. If you must have the money, get it fromhim, but don't ruin his life--don't let him know. I won't breathe aword--I swear I won't--and I'll do whatever else you ask ofme--anything--God knows I will!"
He was on his knees now, clutching at Radwalader's coat.
"Now it's all right, isn't it?" he asked. "It's all right between us?You won't tell, and I won't tell. We understand each other, Radwalader,don't we?--ha, yes, we understand each other, you and I!"
"_God!_" said Radwalader, flinging him off. "Is it a man or a worm?"
Briefly he stood, looking down at the thing which writhed and whimperedbefore him, and then touched it curiously with his foot. A moment later,the outer door closed behind him with a sullen slam.
For a long time--for five hours and more--Vicot lay where he had fallen.At first he choked and sobbed, repeating fragments of his miserableappeal, but gradually even this incoherent murmur died down to silence.The long summer afternoon stole by; and from the street outside came thecommingled sounds of a busy thoroughfare--the rattle of wheels, thecries of venders, the clamour of children playing: and still he lay, asmotionless as one dead. It was only when the sunlight swung inhorizontally through the window on the Rue Boissiere, and the bell of aneighbouring church was striking six, that he stirred, rose, and wentslowly across to stare down into the street. A cab was standing at thecorner--a cab of the Compagnie Urbaine.
Suddenly Vicot smiled.