CHAPTER NINE
LUPIN'S ANGER
He remained for one moment motionless and speechless. Above was a perfectclatter of things being pushed about, as though the besieged werebuilding themselves a barricade. But to the right of the electric rays,diffused daylight entered through an opening that was suddenly exposed;and he saw, in front of this opening, first one form and then anotherstooping in order to escape over the roofs.
He levelled his revolver and fired, but badly, for he was thinking ofFlorence and his hand trembled. Three more shots rang out. The bulletsrattled against the old scrap-iron in the loft. The fifth shot wasfollowed by a cry of pain. Don Luis once more rushed up the ladder.
Slowly making his way through the tangle of farm implements and over somecases of dried rape seed forming a regular rampart, he at last, afterbruising and barking his shins, succeeded in reaching the opening, andwas greatly surprised, on passing through it, to find himself on levelground. It was the top of the sloping bank against which the barn stood.
He descended the slope at haphazard, to the left of the barn, and passedin front of the building, but saw nobody. He then went up again on theright; and although the flat part was very narrow, he searched itcarefully for, in the growing darkness of the twilight, he had everyreason to fear renewed attacks from the enemy.
He now became aware of something which he had not perceived before. Thebank ran along the top of the wall, which at this spot was quitesixteen feet high. Gaston Sauverand and Florence had, beyond a doubt,escaped this way.
Perenna followed the wall, which was fairly wide, till he came to a lowerpart, and here he jumped into a ploughed field skirting a little woodtoward which the fugitives must have run He started exploring it, but,realizing its denseness, he at once saw that it was waste of time tolinger in pursuit.
He therefore returned to the village, while thinking over this, hislatest exploit. Once again Florence and her accomplice had tried to getrid of him. Once again Florence figured prominently in this network ofcriminal plots.
At the moment when chance informed Don Luis that old Langernault hadprobably died by foul play, at the moment when chance, by leading him toHanged Man's Barn, as he christened it, brought him into the presence oftwo skeletons, Florence appeared as a murderous vision, as an evilgenius who was seen wherever death had passed with its trail of bloodand corpses.
"Oh, the loathsome creature!" he muttered, with a shudder. "How can shehave so fair a face, and eyes of such haunting beauty, so grave, sincere,and almost guileless?"
In the church square, outside the inn, Mazeroux, who had returned, wasfilling the petrol tank of the motor and lighting the lamps. Don Luis sawthe mayor of Damigni crossing the square. He took him aside.
"By the way, Monsieur le Maire, did you ever hear any talk in thedistrict, perhaps two years ago, of the disappearance of a couple fortyor fifty years of age? The husband's name was Alfred--"
"And the wife's Victorine, eh?" the mayor broke in. "I should think so!The affair created some stir. They lived at Alengon on a small, privateincome; they disappeared between one day and the next; and no one hassince discovered what became of them, any more than a little hoard,some twenty thousand francs or so, which they had realized the daybefore by the sale of their house. I remember them well. Dedessuslamaretheir name was."
"Thank you, Monsieur le Maire," said Perenna, who had learned all that hewanted to know.
The car was ready. A minute after he was rushing toward Alenconwith Mazeroux.
"Where are we going, Chief?" asked the sergeant.
"To the station. I have every reason to believe, first, that Sauverandwas informed this morning--in what way remains to be seen--of therevelations made last night by Mme. Fauville relating to old Langernault;and, secondly, that he has been prowling around and inside oldLangernault's property to-day for reasons that also remain to be seen.And I presume that he came by train and that he will go back by train."
Perenna's supposition was confirmed without delay. He was told at therailway station that a gentleman and a lady had arrived from Paris at twoo'clock, that they had hired a trap at the hotel next door, and that,having finished their business, they had gone back a few minutes ago, bythe 7:40 express. The description of the lady and gentleman correspondedexactly with that of Florence and Sauverand.
"Off we go!" said Perenna, after consulting the timetable. "We are anhour behind. We may catch up with the scoundrel at Le Mans."
"We'll do that, Chief, and we'll collar him, I swear: him and his lady,since there are two of them."
"There are two of them, as you say. Only--"
"Only what?"
Don Luis waited to reply until they were seated and the engine started,when he said:
"Only, my boy, you will keep your hands off the lady."
"Why should I?"
"Do you know who she is? Have you a warrant against her?"
"No."
"Then shut up."
"But--"
"One word more, Alexandre, and I'll set you down beside the road. Thenyou can make as many arrests as you please."
Mazeroux did not breathe another word. For that matter the speed at whichthey at once began to go hardly left him time to raise a protest. Not alittle anxious, he thought only of watching the horizon and keeping alookout for obstacles.
The trees vanished on either side almost unseen. Their foliage overheadmade a rhythmical sound as of moaning waves. Night insects dashedthemselves to death against the lamps.
"We shall get there right enough," Mazeroux ventured to observe. "There'sno need to put on the pace."
The speed increased and he said no more.
Villages, plains, hills; and then, suddenly in the midst of the darkness,the lights of a large town, Le Mans.
"Do you know the way to the station, Alexandre?"
"Yes, Chief, to the right and then straight on."
Of course they ought to have gone to the left. They wasted seven or eightminutes in wandering through the streets and receiving contradictoryinstructions. When the motor pulled up at the station the train waswhistling.
Don Luis jumped out, rushed through the waiting-room, found the doorsshut, jostled the railway officials who tried to stop him, and reachedthe platform.
A train was about to start on the farther line. The last door was bangedto. He ran along the carriages, holding on to the brass rails.
"Your ticket, sir! Where's your ticket?" shouted an angry collector.
Don Luis continued to fly along the footboards, giving a swift glancethrough the panes, thrusting aside the persons whose presence at thewindows prevented him from seeing, prepared at any moment to burst intothe compartment containing the two accomplices.
He did not see them in the end carriages. The train started. And suddenlyhe gave a shout: they were there, the two of them, by themselves! He hadseen them! They were there: Florence, lying on the seat, with her head onSauverand's shoulder, and he, leaning over her, with his arms around her!
Mad with rage he flung back the bottom latch and seized the handle of thecarriage door. At the same moment he lost his balance and was pulled offby the furious ticket collector and by Mazeroux, who bellowed:
"Why, you're mad, Chief! you'll kill yourself!"
"Let go, you ass!" roared Don Luis. "It's they! Let me be, can't you!"
The carriages filed past. He tried to jump on to another footboard.But the two men were clinging to him, some railway porters came totheir assistance, the station-master ran up. The train moved out ofthe station.
"Idiots!" he shouted. "Boobies! Pack of asses that you are, couldn't youleave me alone? Oh, I swear to Heaven--!"
With a blow of his left fist he knocked the ticket collector down; with ablow of his right he sent Mazeroux spinning; and shaking off the portersand the station-master, he rushed along the platform to the luggage-room,where he took flying leaps over several batches of trunks, packing-cases,and portmanteaux.
"Oh, the perfect fool!" he mumbled,
on seeing that Mazeroux had let thepower down in the car. "Trust him, if there's any blunder going!"
Don Luis had driven his car at a fine rate during the day; but that nightthe pace became vertiginous. A very meteor flashed through the suburbs ofLe Mans and hurled itself along the highroad. Perenna had but one thoughtin his head: to reach the next station, which was Chartres, before thetwo accomplices, and to fly at Sauverand's throat. He saw nothing butthat: the savage grip of his two hands that would set FlorenceLevasseur's lover gasping in his agony.
"Her lover! Her lover!" he muttered, gnashing his teeth. "Why, of course,that explains everything! They have combined against their accomplice,Marie Fauville; and it is she alone, poor devil, who will pay for thehorrible series of crimes!"
"Is she their accomplice even?" he wondered. "Who knows? Who knows ifthat pair of demons are not capable, after killing Hippolyte and his son,of having plotted the ruin of Marie Fauville, the last obstacle thatstood between them and the Mornington inheritance? Doesn't everythingpoint to that conclusion? Didn't I find the list of dates in a bookbelonging to Florence? Don't the facts prove that the letters werecommunicated by Florence?...
"Those letters accuse Gaston Sauverand as well. But how does that affectthings? He no longer loves Marie, but Florence. And Florence loves him.She is his accomplice, his counsellor, the woman who will live by hisside and benefit by his fortune.... True, she sometimes pretends to bedefending Marie Fauville. Play-acting! Or perhaps remorse, fright at thethought of all that she has done against her rival, and of the fate thatawaits the unhappy woman!
"But she is in love with Sauverand. And she continues to carry on thestruggle without pity and without respite. And that is why she wanted tokill me, the interloper whose insight she dreaded. And she hates me andloathes me--"
To the hum of the engine and the sighing of the trees, which bent down atthe approach, he murmured incoherent words. The recollection of the twolovers clasped in each other's arms made him cry aloud with jealousy. Hewanted to be revenged. For the first time in his life, the longing, thefeverish craving to kill set his brain boiling.
"Hang it all!" he growled suddenly. "The engine's misfiring! Mazeroux!Mazeroux!"
"What, Chief! Did you know that I was here?" exclaimed Mazeroux, emergingfrom the shadow in which he sat hidden.
"You jackass! Do you think that the first idiot who comes along can hangon to the footboard of my car without my knowing it? You must be feelingcomfortable down there!"
"I'm suffering agonies, and I'm shivering with cold."
"That's right, it'll teach you. Tell me, where did you buy your petrol?"
"At the grocer's."
"At a thief's, you mean. It's muck. The plugs are getting sooted up."
"Are you sure?"
"Can't you hear the misfiring, you fool?"
The motor, indeed, at moments seemed to hesitate. Then everything becamenormal again. Don Luis forced the pace. Going downhill they appeared tobe hurling themselves into space. One of the lamps went out. The otherwas not as bright as usual. But nothing diminished Don Luis's ardour.
There was more misfiring, fresh hesitations, followed by efforts, asthough the engine was pluckily striving to do its duty. And then suddenlycame the final failure, a dead stop at the side of the road, a stupidbreakdown.
"Confound it!" roared Don Luis. "We're stuck! Oh, this is the laststraw!"
"Come, Chief, we'll put it right. And we'll pick up Sauverand at Parisinstead of Chartres, that's all."
"You infernal ass! The repairs will take an hour! And then she'll breakdown again. It's not petrol, it's filth they've foisted on you."
The country stretched around them to endless distances, with no otherlights than the stars that riddled the darkness of the sky.
Don Luis was stamping with fury. He would have liked to kick the motor topieces. He would have liked--
It was Mazeroux who "caught it," in the hapless sergeant's own words. DonLuis took him by the shoulders, shook him, loaded him with insults andabuse and, finally, pushing him against the roadside bank and holding himthere, said, in a broken voice of mingled hatred and sorrow.
"It's she, do you hear, Mazeroux? it's Sauverand's companion who has doneeverything. I'm telling you now, because I'm afraid of relenting. Yes, Iam a weak coward. She has such a grave face, with the eyes of a child.But it's she, Mazeroux. She lives in my house. Remember her name:Florence Levasseur. You'll arrest her, won't you? I might not be able to.My courage fails me when I look at her. The fact is that I have neverloved before.
"There have been other women--but no, those were fleeting fancies--noteven that: I don't even remember the past! Whereas Florence--! You mustarrest her, Mazeroux. You must deliver me from her eyes. They burn intome like poison. If you don't deliver me I shall kill her as I killedDolores--or else they will kill me--or--Oh, I don't know all the ideasthat are driving me wild--!
"You see, there's another man," he explained. "There's Sauverand, whomshe loves. Oh, the infamous pair! They have killed Fauville and the boyand old Langernault and those two in the barn and others besides: CosmoMornington, Verot, and more still. They are monsters, she most ofall--And if you saw her eyes-"
He spoke so low that Mazeroux could hardly hear him. He had let go hishold of Mazeroux and seemed utterly cast down with despair, a surprisingsymptom in a man of his amazing vigour and authority.
"Come, Chief," said the sergeant, helping him up. "This is all stuff andnonsense. Trouble with women: I've had it like everybody else. Mme.Mazeroux--yes, I got married while you were away--Mme. Mazeroux turnedout badly herself, gave me the devil of a time, Mme. Mazeroux did. I'lltell you all about it, Chief, how Mme. Mazeroux rewarded my kindness."
He led Don Luis gently to the car and settled him on the front seat.
"Take a rest, Chief. It's not very cold and there are plenty of furs. Thefirst peasant that comes along at daybreak, I'll send him to the nexttown for what we want--and for food, too, for I'm starving. Andeverything will come right; it always does with women. All you have to dois to kick them out of your life--except when they anticipate you andkick themselves out.... I was going to tell you: Mme. Mazeroux--"
Don Luis was never to learn what had happened with Mme. Mazeroux. Themost violent catastrophies had no effect upon the peacefulness of hisslumbers. He was asleep almost at once.
It was late in the morning when he woke up. Mazeroux had had to wait tillseven o'clock before he could hail a cyclist on his way to Chartres.
They made a start at nine o'clock. Don Luis had recovered all hiscoolness. He turned to his sergeant.
"I said a lot last night that I did not mean to say. However, I don'tregret it. Yes, it is my duty to do everything to save Mme. Fauville andto catch the real culprit. Only the task falls upon myself; and I swearthat I shan't fail in it. This evening Florence Levasseur shall sleep inthe lockup!"
"I'll help you, Chief," replied Mazeroux, in a queer tone of voice.
"I need nobody's help. If you touch a single hair of her head, I'll dofor you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Chief."
"Then hold your tongue."
His anger was slowly returning and expressed itself in an increase ofspeed, which seemed to Mazeroux a revenge executed upon himself. Theyraced over the cobble-stones of Chartres. Rambouillet, Chevreuse, andVersailles received the terrifying vision of a thunderbolt tearing acrossthem from end to end.
Saint-Cloud. The Bois de Boulogne ...
On the Place de la Concorde, as the motor was turning toward theTuileries, Mazeroux objected:
"Aren't you going home, Chief?"
"No. There's something more urgent first: we must relieve Marie Fauvilleof her suicidal obsession by letting her know that we have discovered thecriminals."
"And then?"
"Then I want to see the Prefect of Police."
"M. Desmalions is away and won't be back till this afternoon."
"In that case the examining magistrate."
"He doesn'
t get to the law courts till twelve; and it's only eleven now."
"We'll see."
Mazeroux was right: there was no one at the law courts.
Don Luis lunched somewhere close by; and Mazeroux, after calling at thedetective office, came to fetch him and took him to the magistrate'scorridor. Don Luis's excitement, his extraordinary restlessness, did notfail to strike Mazeroux, who asked:
"Are you still of the same mind, Chief?"
"More than ever. I looked through the newspapers at lunch. MarieFauville, who was sent to the infirmary after her second attempt, hasagain tried to kill herself by banging her head against the wall of theroom. They have put a straitjacket on her. But she is refusing all food.It is my duty to save her."
"How?"
"By handing over the real criminal. I shall inform the magistrate incharge of the case; and this evening I shall bring you Florence Levasseurdead or alive."
"And Sauverand?"
"Sauverand? That won't take long. Unless--"
"Unless what?"
"Unless I settle his business myself, the miscreant!"
"Chief!"
"Oh, dry up!"
There were some reporters near them waiting for particulars. Herecognized them and went up to them.
"You can say, gentlemen, that from to-day I am taking up the defence ofMarie Fauville and devoting myself entirely to her cause."
They all protested: was it not he who had had Mme. Fauville arrested? Wasit not he who had collected a heap of convicting proofs against her?
"I shall demolish those proofs one by one," he said. "Marie Fauville isthe victim of wretches who have hatched the most diabolical plot againsther, and whom I am about to deliver up to justice."
"But the teeth! The marks of the teeth!"
"A coincidence! An unparalleled coincidence, but one which now strikes meas a most powerful proof of innocence. I tell you that, if Marie Fauvillehad been clever enough to commit all those murders, she would also havebeen clever enough not to leave behind her a fruit bearing the marks ofher two rows of teeth."
"But still--"
"She is innocent! And that is what I am going to tell the examiningmagistrate. She must be informed of the efforts that are being made inher favour. She must be given hope at once. If not, the poor thing willkill herself and her death will be on the conscience of all who accusedan innocent woman. She must--"
At that moment he interrupted himself. His eyes were fixed on one of thejournalists who was standing a little way off listening to him andtaking notes.
He whispered to Mazeroux:
"Could you manage to find out that beggar's name? I can't remember whereon earth I've seen him before."
But an usher now opened the door of the examining magistrate, who, onreceiving Don Perenna's card, had asked to see him at once. He steppedforward and was about to enter the room with Mazeroux, when he suddenlyturned to his companion with a cry of rage:
"It's he! It was Sauverand in disguise. Stop him! He's made off. Run,can't you?"
He himself darted away followed by Mazeroux and a number of warders andjournalists, He soon outdistanced them, so that, three minutes later, heheard no one more behind him. He had rushed down the staircase of the"Mousetrap," and through the subway leading from one courtyard to theother. Here two people told him that they had met a man walking at asmart pace.
The track was a false one. He became aware of this, hunted about, lost agood deal of time, and managed to discover that Sauverand had left by theBoulevard du Palais and joined a very pretty, fair-haired woman--FlorenceLevasseur, obviously--on the Quai de l'Horloge. They had both got intothe motor bus that runs from the Place Saint-Michel to the GareSaint-Lazare.
Don Luis went back to a lonely little street where he had left his car inthe charge of a boy. He set the engine going and drove at full speed tothe Gare Saint-Lazare, From the omnibus shelter he went off on a freshtrack which also proved to be wrong, lost quite another hour, returned tothe terminus, and ended by learning for certain that Florence had steppedby herself into a motor bus which would take her toward the Place duPalais-Bourbon. Contrary to all his expectations, therefore, the girlmust have gone home.
The thought of seeing her again roused his anger to its highest pitch.All the way down the Rue Royale and across the Place de la Concorde hekept blurting out words of revenge and threats which he was itching tocarry out. He would abuse Florence. He would sting her with his insults.He felt a bitter and painful need to hurt the odious creature.
But on reaching the Place du Palais-Bourbon he pulled up short. Hispractised eye had counted at a glance, on the right and left, ahalf-dozen men whose professional look there was no mistaking. AndMazeroux, who had caught sight of him, had spun round on his heel and washiding under a gateway.
He called him:
"Mazeroux!"
The sergeant appeared greatly surprised to hear his name and came upto the car.
"Hullo, the Chief!"
His face expressed such embarrassment that Don Luis felt his fears takingdefinite shape.
"Look here, is it for me that you and your men are hanging about outsidemy house?"
"There's a notion, Chief," replied Mazeroux, looking very uncomfortable."You know that you're in favour all right!"
Don Luis gave a start. He understood. Mazeroux had betrayed hisconfidence. To obey his scruples of conscience as well as to rescue thechief from the dangers of a fatal passion, Mazeroux had denouncedFlorence Levasseur.
Perenna clenched his fists in an effort of his whole being to stifle hisboiling rage. It was a terrible blow. He received a sudden intuition ofall the blunders which his mad jealousy had made him commit since the daybefore, and a presentiment of the irreparable disasters that might resultfrom them. The conduct of events was slipping from him.
"Have you the warrant?" he asked.
Mazeroux spluttered:
"It was quite by accident. I met the Prefect, who was back. We spoke ofthe young lady's business. And, as it happened, they had discovered thatthe photograph--you know, the photograph of Florence Levasseur which thePrefect lent you--well, they have discovered that you faked it. And thenwhen I mentioned the name of Florence, the Prefect remembered that thatwas the name."
"Have you the warrant?" Don Luis repeated, in a harsher tone.
"Well, you see, I couldn't help it.... M. Desmalions, the magistrate--"
If the Place du Palais Bourbon had been deserted at that moment, DonLuis would certainly have relieved himself by a swinging blowadministered to Mazeroux's chin according to the most scientific rulesof the noble art. And Mazeroux foresaw this contingency, for heprudently kept as far away as possible and, to appease the chief'sanger, intended a whole litany of excuses:
"It was for your good, Chief.... I had to do it ... Only think! Youyourself told me: 'Rid me of the creature!' said you. I'm too weak.You'll arrest her, won't you? Her eyes burn into me--like poison! Well,Chief, could I help it? No, I couldn't, could I? Especially as thedeputy chief--"
"Ah! So Weber knows?"
"Why, yes! The Prefect is a little suspicious of you since he understoodabout the faking of the portrait. So M. Weber is coming back in an hour,perhaps, with reinforcements. Well, I was saying, the deputy chief hadlearnt that the woman who used to go to Gaston Sauverand's atNeuilly--you know, the house on the Boulevard Richard-Wallace--was fairand very good looking, and that her name was Florence. She even used tostay the night sometimes."
"You lie! You lie!" hissed Perenna.
All his spite was reviving. He had been pursuing Florence with intentionswhich it would have been difficult for him to put into words. And nowsuddenly he again wanted to destroy her; and this time consciously. Inreality he no longer knew what he was doing. He was acting at haphazard,tossed about in turns by the most diverse passions, a prey to thatinordinate love which impels us as readily to kill the object of ouraffections as to die in an attempt to save her.
A newsboy passed with a special edition of the _Paris-Midi_,
showing ingreat black letters:
"SENSATIONAL DECLARATION BY DON LUIS PERENNA
"MME. FAUVILLE IS INNOCENT.
"IMMINENT ARREST OF THE TWO CRIMINALS"
"Yes, yes," he said aloud. "The drama is drawing to an end. Florence isabout to pay her debt to society. So much the worse for her."
He started his car again and drove through the gate. In the courtyard hesaid to his chauffeur, who came up:
"Turn her around and don't put her up. I may be starting again atany moment."
He sprang out and asked the butler:
"Is Mlle. Levasseur in?"
"Yes, sir, she's in her room."
"She was away yesterday, wasn't she?"
"Yes, sir, she received a telegram asking her to go to the country to seea relation who was ill. She came back last night."
"I want to speak to her. Send her to me. At once."
"In the study, sir?"
"No, upstairs, in the boudoir next to my bedroom."
This was a small room on the second floor which had once been a lady'sboudoir, and he preferred it to his study since the attempt at murder ofwhich he had been the object. He was quieter up there, farther away; andhe kept his important papers there. He always carried the key with him: aspecial key with three grooves to it and an inner spring.
Mazeroux had followed him into the courtyard and was keeping close behindhim, apparently unobserved by Perenna, who having so far appeared not tonotice it. He now, however, took the sergeant by the arm and led him tothe front steps.
"All is going well. I was afraid that Florence, suspecting something,might not have come back. But she probably doesn't know that I saw heryesterday. She can't escape us now."
They went across the hall and up the stairs to the first floor. Mazerouxrubbed his hands.
"So you've come to your senses, Chief?"
"At any rate I've made up my mind. I will not, do you hear, I will nothave Mme. Fauville kill herself; and, as there is no other way ofpreventing that catastrophe, I shall sacrifice Florence."
"Without regret?"
"Without remorse."
"Then you forgive me?"
"I thank you."
And he struck him a clean, powerful blow under the chin. Mazeroux fellwithout a moan, in a dead faint on the steps of the second flight.
Halfway up the stairs was a dark recess that served as a lumber roomwhere the servants kept their pails and brooms and the soiled householdlinen. Don Luis carried Mazeroux to it, and, seating him comfortably onthe floor, with his back to a housemaid's box, he stuffed hishandkerchief into his mouth, gagged him with a towel, and bound hiswrists and ankles with two tablecloths. The other ends of these hefastened to a couple of strong nails. As Mazeroux was slowly coming tohimself, Don Luis said:
"I think you have all you want. Tablecloths--napkins--something in yourmouth in case you're hungry. Eat at your ease. And then take a littlenap, and you'll wake up as fresh as paint."
He locked him in and glanced at his watch.
"I have an hour before me. Capital!"
At that moment his intention was to insult Florence, to throw up all herscandalous crimes in her face, and, in this way, to force a written andsigned confession from her. Afterward, when Marie Fauville's safety wasinsured, he would see. Perhaps he would put Florence in his motor andcarry her off to some refuge from which, with the girl for a hostage, hewould be able to influence the police. Perhaps--But he did not seek toanticipate events. What he wanted was an immediate, violent explanation.
He ran up to his bedroom on the second floor and dipped his face intocold water. Never had he experienced such a stimulation of his wholebeing, such an unbridling of his blind instincts.
"It's she!" he spluttered. "I hear her! She is at the bottom of thestairs. At last! Oh, the joy of having her in front of me! Face to face!She and I alone!"
He returned to the landing outside the boudoir. He took the key from hispocket. The door opened.
He uttered a great shout: Gaston Sauverand was there! In that locked roomGaston Sauverand was waiting for him, standing with folded arms.
The Teeth of the Tiger Page 9
