A Secret Inheritance (Volume 2 of 3)

by B. L. Farjeon

  CHAPTER XXII.

  My purpose was to obtain, by the magistrate's permission, an interviewwith the prisoner. His account of the man's sincere or pretendedbelief in spirits and demons had deeply interested me, and I wished tohave some conversation with him respecting this particular adventurewhich had ended in murder. I obtained without difficulty thepermission I sought. I asked if the prisoner had made any furtheradmissions or confession, and the magistrate answered no, and that theman persisted in a sullen adherence to the tale he had invented in hisown defence.

  "I saw him this morning," the magistrate said, "and interrogated himwith severity, to no effect. He continues to declare himself to beinnocent, and reiterates his fable of the demon."

  "Have you asked him," I inquired, "to give you an account of all thattranspired within his knowledge from the moment he entered Nerac untilthe moment he was arrested?"

  "No," said the magistrate, "it did not occur to me to demand of him soclose a description of his movements; and I doubt whether I shouldhave been able to drag it from him. The truth he will not tell, andhis invention is not strong enough to go into minute details. He isconscious of this, conscious that I should trip him up again and againon minor points which would be fatal to him, and his cunning naturewarns him not to thrust his head into the trap. He belongs to thelowest order of criminals."

  My idea was to obtain from the prisoner just such a circumstantialaccount of his movements as I thought it likely the magistrate wouldhave extracted from him; and I felt that I had the power to succeedwhere the magistrate had failed. This power I determined to use.

  I was taken into the man's cell, and left there without a word. He wasstill bound; his brute face was even more brute and haggard thanbefore, his hair was matted, his eyes had a look in them of mingledterror and ferocity. He spoke no word, but he raised his head andlowered it again when the door of the cell was closed behind me.

  "What is your name?" I asked. But I had to repeat the question twicebefore he answered me.

  "Pierre," he said.

  "Why did you not reply to me at once?" But to this question, althoughI repeated it also twice, he made no response.

  "It is useless," I said sternly, "to attempt evasion with me, or tothink that I will be content with silence. I have come here to obtaina confession from you--a true confession, Pierre--and I will force itfrom you, if you do not give it willingly. Do you understand me? Iwill force it from you."

  "I understand you," he said, keeping his face averted from me, "but Iwill not speak."

  "Why?" I demanded.

  "Because you know all; because you are only playing with me; becauseyou have a design against me."

  His words astonished me, and made me more determined to carry out myintention. He had made it clear to me that there was something hiddenin his mind, and I was resolved to get at it.

  "What design can I have against you," I said, "of which you need beafraid? You are in sufficient peril already, and there is no hope foryou. Your life is forfeit. What worse danger can befall you? Soon youwill be as dead as the man you murdered."

  "I did not murder him," was the strange reply, "and you know it."

  "Fool!" I exclaimed. "You are playing the same trick upon me that youplayed upon your judge. It was unsuccessful with him; it will be asunsuccessful with me. Answer me. What further danger can threaten youthan the danger, the certain, positive danger, in which you now stand?You are doomed, Pierre."

  "My body is, perhaps," he muttered, "but not my soul."

  "Oh," I said, in a tone of contempt, "you believe in a soul."

  "Yes," he replied, "do not you?"

  "I? Yes. With reason, with intelligence. Not out of my fears, but outof my hopes."

  "I have no hopes and no fears," he said. "I have done wrong, but notthe wrong with which I am charged."

  "Look at me, Pierre."

  His response to this was to hide his head closer on his breast, tomake an even stronger endeavour to avoid my glance.

  "When I next command you," I said, "you will obey. About your soul?Believing that you possess one, what worse peril can threaten it thanthe pass to which you have brought it by your crime."

  And still he doggedly repeated, "I have committed no crime."

  "You fear me?" I asked.

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "Because you are here to tempt me, to ensnare me. I will not look atyou."

  I strode to his side, and with my strong hand on his shoulder, forcedhim to raise his head, forced him to look me straight in the face. Hiseyes wavered for a few moments, shifted as though they would escape mycompelling power, and finally became fixed on mine. He had no power toresist me. The will in me was strong, and produced its effects on theweaker mind. Gradually what brilliancy there was in his eyes becamedimmed, and drew but a reflected, shadowy light from mine. Thus weremained face to face for four or five minutes, and then I spoke.

  "Relate to me," I said, "all that you know from the time you and theman who is dead conceived the idea of coming to Nerac up to thepresent moment. Conceal nothing. The truth, the bare, naked truth!"

  "We were poor, both of us," Pierre commenced, "and had been poor allour lives. That would not have mattered had we been able to obtainmeat and wine. But we could not. We were neither of us honest, and hadbeen in prison more than once for theft. We were never innocent whenwe were convicted, although we swore we were. I got tired of it;starvation is a poor game. I would have been contented with a little,and so would he, but we could not make sure of that little. Nothingelse was left to us but to take what we wanted. The wild beasts do;why should not we? But we were too well known in our village, somesixty miles from Nerac, so, talking it over, we said we would comehere and try our luck. We had heard of Doctor Louis, and that he was arich man. He can spare what we want, we said; we will go and take. Wehad no idea of blood; we only wanted money, to buy meat and wine with.So we started, with nothing in our pockets. On the first day we had aslice of luck. We met a man and waylaid him, and took from him all themoney he had in his pockets. It was not much, but enough to carry usto Nerac. No more; but we were satisfied. We did not hurt the man; aknock on the head did not take his senses from him, but brought him tothem; so, being convinced, he gave us what he had, and we departed onour way. We were not fast walkers, and, besides, we did not know thestraightest road to Nerac, so we were four days on the journey. Whenwe entered the inn of the Three Black Crows we had just enough moneyleft to pay for a bottle of red wine. We called for it, and satdrinking. While we were there a spirit entered in the shape of a man.This spirit, whom I did not then know to be a demon, sat talking withthe landlord of the Three Black Crows. He looked towards the placewhere we were sitting, and I wondered whether he and the landlord weretalking of us; I could not tell, because what they said did not reachmy ears. He went away, and we went away, too, some time afterwards. Wewanted another bottle of red wine, but the landlord would not give itto us without our paying for it, and we had no money; our pockets werebare. So out we went into the night. It was very dark. We had settledour plan. Before we entered the Three Black Crows we had found outDoctor Louis's house, and knew exactly how it was situated; therewould be no difficulty in finding it later on, despite the darkness.We had decided not to make the attempt until at least two hours pastmidnight, but, for all that, when we left the inn we walked in thedirection of the doctor's house. I do not know if we should havecontinued our way, because, although I saw nothing and heard nothing,I had a fancy that we were being followed; I couldn't say by what, butthe idea was in my mind. So, talking quietly together, he and Idetermined to turn back to some woods on the outskirts of Nerac whichwe had passed through before we reached the village, and there tosleep an hour or two till the time arrived to put our plan intoexecution. Back we turned, and as we went there came a sign to me. Idon't know how; it was through the senses, for I don't rememberhearing anything that I could not put down to the wind. My mate heardit too, and we stopped in
fear. 'What was that?' my mate said. 'Are webeing followed?' I said nothing. We stood quiet a long while, andheard nothing. Then my mate said, 'It was the wind;' and we went ontill we came to the woods, which we entered. Down upon the ground wethrew ourselves, and in a minute my mate was asleep. Not so I; but Ipretended to be. Then came a Shadow that bent over us. I did not move;I even breathed regularly to put it off the scent. Presently itdeparted, and I opened my eyes; nothing was near us. Then, being tiredwith the long day's walk, and knowing that there was work before uswhich would be better done after a little rest, I fell asleep myself.We both slept, I can't say how long, but from the appearance of thenight I judged till about the time we had resolved to do our work. Iwoke first, and awoke my mate, and off we set to the doctor's house.We reached it in less than an hour, and nothing disturbed us on theway. That made me think that I had been deceived, and that my senseshad been playing tricks with me. I told my mate of my fears, and helaughed at me, and I laughed, too, glad to be relieved. We walkedround the doctor's house, to decide where we should commence. Thefront of it faces the road, and we thought that too dangerous, so wemade our way to the back, and, talking in whispers, settled to bore ahole through the shutters there. We were very quiet; no fear of ourbeing heard. The hole being bored, it was easy to cut away wood enoughto enable us to open the window and make our way into the house. Wedid not intend violence, that is, not more than was necessary for oursafety. We had talked it over, and had decided that no blood was to beshed. Robbers we were, but not murderers. Our plan was to gag and tieup any one who interfered with us. My mate and I had had no quarrel;we were faithful partners; and I had no other thought than to remaintrue to him as he had no other thought than to remain true to me.Share and share alike--that was what we both intended. So he workedaway at the shutter, while I looked on. Suddenly, crack! A blow came,from the air it seemed, and down fell my mate, struck dead! He did notmove; he did not speak; he died, unshriven. I looked down, dazed, whenI heard a swishing sound in the air behind me, as though a great clubwas making a circle and about to fall upon my head. It was all in aminute, and I turned and saw the demon. Dark as it was, I saw him. Islanted my body aside, and the club, instead of falling upon my head,fell upon my shoulder. I ran for my life, and down came another blow,on my head this time, but it did not kill me. I raced like a madman,tearing at the bushes, and the demon after me. I was struck again andagain, but not killed. Wounded and bleeding, I continued my flight,till flat I fell like a log. Not because all my strength was gone; no,there was still a little left; but I showed myself more cunning thanthe demon, for down I went as if I was dead, and he left me, thinkingme so. Then, when he was gone, I opened my eyes, and managed to dragmyself away to the place where I was found yesterday more dead thanalive. I did not kill my mate; I never raised my hand against him.What I have said is the truth, as I hope for mercy in the next world,if I don't get it in this!"

  This was the incredible story related to me by the villain who hadthreatened the life of the woman I loved; for he did not deceive me;murder was in his heart, and his low cunning only served to show himin a blacker light. However, I did not leave him immediately. Ireleased him from the spell I had cast upon him, and he stood beforeme, shaking and trembling, with a look in his eyes as though he hadjust been awakened from sleep.

  "What have I said?" he muttered.

  "You have confessed all," I said, meeting cunning with cunning.

  "All!" he muttered. "What do you mean?"

  Then I told him that he had made a full confession of his crime, andin the telling expounded my own theory, as if it had come from hislips, of the thoughts which led to it, and of its final committal--myhope being that he would even now admit that he was the murderer. Buthe vehemently defended himself.

  "If I have said as much," he said, "it is you who have driven me toit, and it is you who have come here to set a snare for mydestruction. But it is not possible, because what you have told me isfalse from beginning to end."

  So I left him, amazed at his dogged, determined obstinacy, which Iknew would not avail him. He was doomed, and justly doomed.