Cleek: the Man of the Forty Faces

by Charles Felix

  II

  "A beautiful city, Count--an exceedingly beautiful city," said Cleek, asthe carriage which had been sent to meet them at the station rolled intothe broad Avenue des Arcs, which is at once the widest and most ornatethoroughfare the capital city of Mauravania boasts. "Ah, what aheritage! No wonder King Ulric is so anxious to retain his sovereignty;no wonder this--er--Madame Tcharnovetski, I think you said the nameis--"

  "Yes, monsieur. It is oddly spelled, but it is pronounced a littlebroader than you give it--quite as though it were writtenShar-no-vet-skee, in fact, with the accent on the third syllable."

  "Ah, yes. Thanks very much. No wonder she is anxious to become a powerhere. Mauravania is a fairyland in very truth; and this beautiful avenuewith its arches, its splendid trees, its sculpture, its--Ah! _cocher_,pull up at once. Stop, if you please, stop!"

  "Oui, monsieur," replied the driver, reining in his horses and glancinground. "_Dix mille pardons, M'sieur_, there is something amiss?"

  "Yes; very much amiss--from the dog's point of view," replied Cleek,indicating by a wave of the hand a mongrel puppy which crouched, forlornand hungry, in the shadow of an imposing building. "He should be aSocialist among dogs, that little fellow, Count. The mere accident ofbirth has made him what he is, and that poodled monstrosity the ladyyonder is leading the pet and pride of a thoughtless mistress. I wantthat little canine outcast, Count, and with your permission I willappropriate him, and give him his first carriage ride." With that, hestepped down from the vehicle, whistled the cur to him, and taking it upin his arms, returned with it to his seat.

  "Monsieur, you are to me the most astonishing of men," said the Count,noticing how he patted the puppy and settled it in his lap as thecarriage resumed its even rolling down the broad, beautiful avenue. "Onemoment upholding the rights of birth, the next rebelling against theinjustice of it. Are your sympathies with the unfortunate so keen,monsieur, that even this stray cur may claim them?"

  "Perhaps," replied Cleek enigmatically. "You must wait and see, Count.Just now I pity him for his forlornity; to-morrow--next day--a weekhence--I may hold it a better course to put an end to his hopeless lotby chloroforming him into a painless and peaceful death."

  "Monsieur, I cannot follow you--you speak in riddles."

  "I deal in riddles, Count; you must wait for the solution of them, I'mafraid."

  "I wish I could grasp the solution of one which puzzles me a great deal,monsieur. What is it that has happened to your countenance? You havedone nothing to put on a disguise; yet, since we left the train andentered the landau, some subtle change has occurred. What is it? How hasit come about? The night before last, when I saw you for the first time,your face was one that impressed me with a sense of familiarity--now,monsieur, you are like a different man."

  "I am a different man, Count. Like puppy, here, I am a waif and a stray;yet, at the same time, I have my purpose and am part of a carefully-laidscheme."

  The Count made no reply. He could not comprehend the man at all, and attimes--but for the world-wide reputation of him--he would have believedhim insane. Not a question as to the great and important case he was on,but merely incomprehensible remarks, trifling fancies, apparentlyaimless whims! Two nights ago a pot of beef extract; to-day a mongrelpuppy; and all the time the hopes of a kingdom, the future of a monarchresting in his hands!

  For twenty minutes longer the landau rolled on; then it came to a haltunder the broad _porte cochere_ of the Villa Irma, and two minutes afterthat Cleek and the Count stood in the presence of Madame Tcharnovetski,her purblind associate, and her retinue of servant-guards.

  A handsome woman, this madame, a woman of about two-and-thirty, with thetar-black eyes and the twilight coloured tresses of Northern Russia;bold as brass, flippant as a French cocotte, steel-nerved andcalm-blooded as a professional gambler. It had been her whim that allthe women of the Count's family should be banished from the house duringher stay; that the great salon of the villa--a wondrous apartment, hungin blue and silver, and lit by a huge crystal chandelier--should be putat her disposal night and day; that the electric lights should bereplaced with dozens of wax candles (after the manner of the ballroomsof her native Russia), and that her one-eyed companion, with his wickercage of screeching parakeets, should come and go when and where and howhe listed, and that an electric alarm bell be connected with hersleeping apartment and his.

  "Your hirelings will tamper with his birds and his effects in thenight--I know that, Monsieur le Comte," she had said when she demandedthis. "He is a nervous fellow, this poor Clopin; I wish him to be ableto ring for help if you and your men go too far."

  Clopin was sitting by the window chattering to his birds when Cleekentered, and a glance at him was sufficient to decide two points: first,he was not disguised, nor was his partial blindness in any way a sham,for an idiot could have seen that the droop of the left eyelid over thestaring, palpably artificial eye which glazed over the empty socketbeneath was due to perfectly natural causes; and, second, that the manwas indeed what the Count had said he resembled, namely, a gutter-bredoutcast.

  "French!" was Cleek's silent comment upon him. "One of those charlatanswho infest the streets of Paris with their so-called 'fortune-tellingbirds,' who, for ten centimes, pick out an envelope with their beaks asa means of telling you what the future is supposed to hold. What hasmade a woman like this pick up a fellow of his stamp? Hum-m-m! Puppy, Ithink you are a good move," stroking the ears of the mongrel dog; "avery much better move than a cage of useless parakeets that are meant tothrow suspicion in the wrong direction and have a seed-cup so large andso obviously overfilled that it is safe to say there is nothing hiddenin it and never has been! And madame has a fancy for waxlights," hisgaze travelling upward to the glittering chandelier. "Hum-m-m! How wellthey know, these women whose beauty is going off, that waxlights showless of Time's ravages than gas or electricity. Candles in thechandelier; candles in the sconces, candles on the mantelpieces. Thisroom should be very charming when it is lighted at night."

  It was--as he learned later. Just now things not quite so charmingfilled the bill, for madame was jeering at him in a manner not to beunderstood.

  "A police spy--that is what you are, monsieur!" she said, coming up tohim and impudently snapping her fingers under his nose. "Such a fool,this white-headed old dotard of a Count, to think that he can take me inwith a silly yarn about going to visit a nephew and bringing him backhere to stay. Monsieur, you are a police spy. Well, good luck to you.Get what the Mauravanian king wants, if--you--can!"

  "Madame," replied Cleek, with a deeply deferential bow and with anaccent that seemed born of Paris, "madame, that is what I mean to do, Iassure you."

  "Ah, do you?" she answered, with a scream of laughter. "You hear that,Clopin? You hear that, my good servitors? This silly French noodle isgoing to get the things in spite of us. Oho, but you have a fine opinionof yourself, monsieur. You need work fast, too, pretty boaster, I cantell you. For the royal jewellers will require the Rainbow Pearl verysoon to fix it in its place in the crown for the coronation ceremony,and if that thing his Majesty holds is offered to them, how long, thinkyou, will it be before all Mauravania knows that it is an imitation?Look you," waxing suddenly vicious, "I'll make it shorter still, thetime you have to strive. Monsieur le Comte, take this message to hisMajesty from me: If in three days he does not promise to accede to mydemands and give me a public proof of it over his royal seal, I leaveMauravania--the pearl and letter leave with me, and they shall not comeback until I return with them for the coronation."

  "For the love of God, madame," said the Count, "don't make it harderstill. Oh, wait, wait, I beseech you!"

  "Not an hour longer than I have now said!" she flung back at him. "Ihave waited until I am tired of it, and my patience is worn out. Threedays, Count; three days, monsieur with the puppy dog; three days, andnot an instant longer, do you hear?"

  "Quite enough, madame," replied Cleek, with a courtly bow, "I promise tohave them in two!"


  She threw back her head and fairly shook with laughter.

  "Of a truth, monsieur, you are a candid boaster!" she cried. "Look you,my good fellows, and you too, my poor dumb Clopin, pretty monsieur herewill have the letter and the pearl in two days' time. Look to it that henever leaves this house at any minute from this time forth that you donot search him from top to toe. If he resists--ah, well, a pistol may gooff accidentally, and things that Mauravania's king would give his lifeto keep hidden will come to light if any charge of murder is preferred.Monsieur the police spy, I wish you joy of your task."

  "Madame, I shall take joy in it," Cleek replied. "But why should we talkof unpleasant things when the future looks so bright? Come, may we notgive ourselves a pleasant evening? Look, there is a piano, and--Count,hold my puppy for me, and please see that no one feeds him at any time.I am starving him so that he may devour some of Clopin's parakeets,because I hate the sight of the little beasts. Thank you. Madame, do youlike music? Listen, then: I'll sing you Mauravania's national anthem:'God guard the throne; God shield the right!'" and, dropping down uponthe seat before the open instrument, he did so.

  * * * * *

  That night was ever memorable at the Villa Irma, for the detectiveseemed somehow to have given place to the courtier, and so merry was hismood, so infectious his good nature, that even madame came under thespell of it. She sang with him, she even danced a Russian polka withhim; she sat with him at dinner, and flirted with him in the salonafterward; and when the time came for her to retire, it was he who tookher bedroom candle from the shelf and put it into her hand.

  "Of a truth, you are a charming fellow, monsieur," she said, when hebent and kissed her hand. "What a pity you should be a police spy andupon so hopeless a case."

  "Hopeless cases are my delight, madame. Believe me, I shall not fail."

  "Only three days, remember, _cher ami_--only three days!"

  "Madame is too kind. I have said it: two will do. On the morning of thethird madame's passport will be ready and the Rainbow Pearl be in theroyal jeweller's hands. A thousand pleasant dreams--_bon soir_!" Andbowed her out and kissed his hand to her as she went up the stairs tobed.