Collected Works of Gaston Leroux

by Gaston Leroux

  “But that,” as Kipling says, “is another story.”

  Chéri-Bibi having given the signal, Yoyo led the way over a swamp, concealed by bamboos. Undoubtedly they would have been engulfed in the swamp but for stones which had been secretly laid down in the mire and were scarcely visible, but which held them up as they walked across.

  Each man had but to imitate the movements of Yoyo. One of his brothers who, with a proud air, leaned on the handle of a pickaxe, was the last to cross over. Thus they landed on an islet of moss-covered boulders whose approach was guarded by this belt of mud. They made their way into a narrow circular space surrounded by rising ground.

  “Here we are!” exclaimed Yoyo.

  He spoke a few quick words to his brother, who inserted his pick under a stone of some considerable size which looked as if it were immovable, but all the same it almost at once swung on a pivot, exposing to view a crevice filled with thick moss.

  The men shifted the moss and a leather bag could be seen. The magician bent forward and untied the complicated fastenings. It was apparent that the bag was filled with gold dust....

  When, two days later, they crossed the Oyapok and, at the same time, the Brazilian frontier, Chéri-Bibi heaved a deep sigh of relief, and said to the Nut, pointing to the bag which Yoyo and one of his brothers had carried so far, and to the landscape which lay before them:

  “Fortune and liberty!”

  “It is to you that I shall owe both. I shall never forget it.”

  The Nut had first refused to accept this royal gift. He could not understand how it was that with such wealth, and friends like Yoyo, Chéri-Bibi remained so long at the penal settlement and was quite ready to go back to it.

  “Come with me to Europe, or, if that is impossible, live here with Yoyo,” he entreated him. “Anything is better than life in the convict settlement.”

  At first he received in reply merely one of those terrible grins which placed an impassable gulf between Chéri-Bibi and mankind. Those who saw that grin understood that something was on the other side of the abyss, something entirely remote from them, apart from them, apart from everything; some mysterious thing which they would never unravel, and they did not persist.

  Nevertheless a few minutes later Chéri-Bibi made an effort to enter into an explanation for the Nut’s benefit, to which he would never have consented with anyone else. It seemed that the moment was not yet come for Chéri-Bibi to see Europe once more. He had the most profound reasons for his decision. Obviously he would amass a fortune before that particular hour struck, but since it was still far distant, the Nut could accept the gold with an easy conscience, inasmuch as Yoyo would have ample time to collect together another hoard. In so far as the penal settlement was concerned, Chéri-Bibi added, with a demoniacal laugh, he should return to it by choice.

  “Not forgetting that I cannot do without certain news which can only reach me there.”

  Yoyo put an end to the discussion by announcing that the canoe, which they required in order to descend the Oyapok, would be ready that evening. He had bought one from the Indians. It was of fair size, hewn in one piece from the trunk of a huge tree.

  Yoyo steered her, seated in the stern, singing the while the plaintive ballads of his country.

  The journey proceeded without let or hindrance, and when they were within a few miles of the sea they landed and made the rest of the way by land in Brazilian territory, arriving thus at Cape Orange. At this place there was an inn, which was well and favorably known in the district for its admirable treatment of travelers. The proprietor did not worry his customers by asking them indiscreet questions as to whence they came, nor as to their previous careers, which usually had brought them, more or less, in contact with the police. Moreover, the landlord, who was called Fernandez, was a friend of Chéri-Bibi’s.

  An exuberant delight bubbled over his truculent features when his eyes fell upon him.

  “Oh, here’s the ‘Shower,’” he said.

  This was his name for Chéri-Bibi, who became by accident one of his customers and whom he did not know in any other way. One day Chéri-Bibi got him out of his difficulties, when he was well nigh bankrupt and in the slough of despair, by literally showering bank-notes on him, which Fernandez accepted without asking whence they came.

  Chéri-Bibi, therefore, had a friend in Fernandez who was almost as devoted to him as Yoyo, and upon whom he could rely when he needed him. A man who kept an inn on the outskirts of the forest, over the frontier, could not fail to be useful to a “convict on the march.” Chéri-Bibi maintained that here again he had done a good stroke of business for himself.

  Fernandez’s household consisted of his wife, who was still a handsome woman, and two graceful and sprightly young daughters who, at their father’s bidding, paid their respects to Chéri-Bibi and proceeded to prepare a special supper.

  “Business getting on all right?” asked Chéri-Bibi when they were all together in Fernandez’s private room with a bottle of golden wine before them.

  “Bless me, yes,” he returned. “What with convicts, gold-diggers, smugglers and pirates I hold my own.”

  The Nut asked for news of the great war.

  “Very unsatisfactory for France,” said Fernandez, shaking his head. “But the steamer which puts in here to-morrow morning may bring us better news.”

  “I thought that the boat from the Antilles did not reach here for another week,” said Chéri-Bibi.

  “That’s true,” returned Fernandez, “but a boat now starts from Martinique, and calls at the ports along the coast on dates announced beforehand. She has to pick up Frenchmen of military age coming from the interior to join up.”

  Chéri-Bibi turned to the Nut.

  “That’s just the very thing to meet the wishes of my friend Didier d’Haumont, who has left his business on the Upper Oyapok — a very fine and prosperous business — to go back to France and do his duty. Only, old chap, Didier d’Haumont came away in such a tearing hurry that he absolutely forgot to bring his wardrobe with him. As I know you always have these things on hand, I hope that he won’t be much the worse for it.”

  “Your friend will be able to get anything he wants here,” returned Fernandez, bowing to the Nut with every mark of politeness.

  “That’s all right then. You’ll go with my friend to the ship, of course?”

  “Your friend won’t need any help but mine, and I’ll introduce him to Captain Lalouette, an old acquaintance, who will be very glad to be of service to him.”

  “So that’s settled,” said Chéri-Bibi, bluntly, concealing his emotion. “But what’s happened to our friend Yoyo?”

  At that moment Yoyo came into the room. Chéri-Bibi must have read some uneasiness in the expression of his face for he asked him what was the matter.

  “Nothing; all goes well,” replied Yoyo somewhat laconically.

  They sat down to supper, which grew very lively. The hostess and her daughters made themselves agreeable. Chéri-Bibi was the most exuberant of the party. He did not eat, he devoured his food. Moreover, he drank to excess. He who prided himself on having maintained throughout his adventurous career the greatest abstemiousness and showed an abstainer’s contempt for drunkards, continually held out his glass, and kept level with Fernandez, who was considered the hardest drinker on the coast.

  The Nut alone neither ate nor drank. But he was no more astonished at anything Chéri-Bibi did than Chéri-Bibi was astonished at his doings. They both knew quite well what this excessive eating and drinking on the one hand, and this complete abstinence on the other really meant, and that it had its origin in both cases in the thought which never left their minds, that the following night, at that particular hour, they would have said good-bye to each other with very considerable chances of never meeting again.

  Ten years side by side in a convict settlement bring about frightful hatreds, or friendships which depend upon something almost higher than liking, and create a bond of moral unity, as it were,
which does not break without some excruciating wrench.

  Convicts have been known to die rather than to allow themselves to be parted. And it might be that if suicide had not been forbidden to Chéri-Bibi for reasons which we shall know one day, that supper night at Fernandez’s inn might, by his own desperate act, have been his last. For that matter it was almost equally fatal to him though not by any design of his own.

  He had judged rightly when he read on Yoyo’s face some degree of uneasiness. During the meal Yoyo often left the room. First he subjected the more or less pallid faces in the ordinary bar to a scrutiny, and then he strolled round the house.

  The starting point of his secret agitation was the squawk of a paroquet which scarcely ever left them as they sailed down the Oyapok. They were near the forest in which these birds abound, and it was to some extent natural that they should hear them, but the inn was a considerable distance from the forest. Moreover, certain shadowy movements round the inn almost level with the ground seemed to Yoyo suspicious. He climbed to the balcony, mounting quickly and coming down almost immediately. This time obviously there was an end to his doubts.

  Some hours later when everyone seemed to be asleep in the inn, the Burglar broke open the door of the yard with a cleverness and quickness which impressed even his confederates, and accompanied by them effected an entrance into the inn. They crept forward with the greatest caution.

  Suddenly they were stopped short by a loud burst of laughter which startled the silence of the night. Oh, they recognized that laugh! And, as the phrase goes, they took themselves off. They beat a retreat with a haste that caused them to knock their heads against the door which a few minutes before they had opened and which was now closed. At that moment a fusillade burst around them.

  They performed wonders in their effort to get away from the infernal inn in which they expected to take their victims by surprise, but were so nicely cornered. By extraordinary agility they managed to climb to the top of a wall and drop to the other side at the risk of breaking their necks. Nevertheless, they lost a few of their feathers; and the next morning the extent of their downfall was apparent in the traces which they left behind — traces of blood.

  “All the same,” said Chéri-Bibi in confidence to Fernandez, “you’ll now understand how necessary it is for me to stay in the country until they are collared with me — just to keep my eye on them, at close quarters, so that they don’t do any harm to my friend the Nut..”

  CHAPTER IX

  CHÉRI-BIBI AND THE NUT SAY GOOD-BYE

  WHEN THE STEAMER was in the roadstead and the time came for Chéri-Bibi and the Nut to say goodbye, no words were wasted by them. It was a moment of great simplicity, for though out of the fullness of the heart the mouth speaketh — pectus est quod disertes facit — yet the heart may be too full for words.

  Chéri-Bibi, as may be imagined, after so many vicissitudes presented a very disordered appearance which was not, however, altogether unsuited to him. Hardly anything remained of his old clothes but his leather trousers and a worn-out scrap of coarse canvas with which he managed to conceal certain peculiar tattoo-marks which were not the work of any native of Guiana.

  Thus, as may be imagined, his appearance was the antithesis of the Nut’s, who had just put on a new suit of clothes of the latest Parisian fashion which had come from Rio a few weeks earlier.

  When the Nut entered the room in which Chéri-Bibi was waiting for him in intense silence, the latter at first failed to recognize him. A man of fashion stood before him. Nevertheless, Chéri-Bibi had known men of fashion before, not only because he used to keep their company and help them on their passage from life to death, but because for a certain time he was a man of fashion himself. But the Nut took his breath away.

  By Jove, the Nut was a man of breeding! At the sight of such a remarkable transformation, Chéri-Bibi’s heart, which was bursting with grief, was filled with pride; he was proud of his pal, so that the combination of these two feelings in a being who was accustomed to amazing ebullitions, excited him to such a degree that he could find expression only in tears; and it was many a long day since his weary eyes had shed tears. The Nut saw that the limbs of this Titan trembled under him when he stood up to receive him. Then he clasped him in his arms. And they held each other fast, and their hearts beat in unison at that moment of mutual grief.... A knock at the door told them that they must say good-bye.

  “As you are not coming with me,” said the Nut, “I must at least hear from you. Let me have news of you. I know that you receive letters in secret. Tell me how I can write to you.”

  Chéri-Bibi shook his head.

  “No, no,” he returned. “This ends it all. I insist.... We shall no longer know each other. The Nut is dead.”

  As a result of those terrible but necessary words a silence fell, short but deep as the chasms into which men who dread lest they be seized with giddiness dare not look. Then Chéri-Bibi said: “Listen to me. I believe you are safe forever. But we can never tell. I have a friend in France from whom you can ask anything, if you need a friend — the Dodger. He is a grocer in the Rue Saint-Roch, Paris, and his real name is Hilaire. He is one of the straightest of men. You can get your supplies from his place. If you want to be well dealt with you have but to say to him the one word ‘Fatalitas.’”

  It was the last utterance, the supreme farewell, of Chéri-Bibi in taking leave of the Nut.... And the Nut allowed himself to be dragged away by Fernandez.

  * * * * *

  The small boats which brought the passengers from the estuary of the Oyapok had put off, and the Dordogne, commanded by Captain Lalouette, began to churn the sea with her propellers. Soon Cape Orange, and by degrees the entire coastline of Guiana, the land in which the Nut had so greatly suffered, disappeared from view. But to his honor be it said that notwithstanding his long martyrdom, he could not remove his eyes from the land, for he was leaving behind an unhappy man with a splendid heart without whom he would have long since died in despair.

  Suddenly a slight cry beside him made him turn his head. A charming young girl in a flutter of anxiety placed her hands to her hair. Her veil, caught by the wind, had become entangled in the rigging and was held fast.

  The Nut helped to release the handsome child, and their hands touched. The most trivial gesture, the most insignificant incident sometimes assumes a considerable importance.... A few minutes later the Nut learned the young girl’s name. It was Mlle. Françoise de la Boulays, and she was returning with her father from the Upper Amazon, to which district he had been sent on an official mission. They were going back to France saddened beyond measure by the startling events which had followed one upon the other during the preceding month.

  The Nut did not venture to appear in the saloon at dinner time. To begin again, in this way without some intermediate stage, civilized life, after having been buried in the grave for more than ten years; to meet the frank look of that pure-souled girl when he was still shuddering from the “evil eye” of the warders; to help himself to well cooked food from a luxurious dish when he was still feeling the nausea of the service tubs which contained the convicts’ skilly!... He was afraid.... He was afraid.

  And then a few minutes before as he stood in front of a glass, he took off his hat, and he saw his bare forehead, the bare forehead of a convict on which he seemed to read in letters of fire “Number 3213.”

  He remained on deck.

  At that moment the wireless operator hurriedly passed him and entered the dining saloon, and almost immediately afterwards the Captain’s voice was heard:

  “Ladies and Gentlemen... it’s victory... victory for France. Joffre has defeated the Germans on the Marne.”

  The thunders of applause which followed may be imagined....

  When Mlle de la Boulays mounted the deck again she found the Nut in tears; and she spoke to him and shook him by the hand. When she left him he remained behind. Her voice continued to ring in his ears during the night. He was still on deck after
the other persons in the ship, except the watch, had gone to sleep.

  Then the sun appeared and lit up the Nut’s radiant face, and leaning on the bulwarks he beheld the rise of a new dawn on the world.

  CHAPTER X

  FOUR YEARS LATER

  “BUT MY DEAR Captain, why did you refuse the Legion of Honor? It’s inconceivable.”

  “Because, my dear girl, I considered that I didn’t deserve it. That’s all.”

  “Now that’s too bad.”

  Mlle. Françoise de la Boulays rose from the settle where she had just invited Captain Didier d’Haumont, who was gradually recovering health and strength, to be seated. Certainly there were times when she failed to understand her dear invalid. Didier d’Haumont had been wounded and mentioned in the orders of the day several times; he wore with joy and pride the cross, but firmly refused the Legion of Honor, remarking:

  “I will accept it at some future time when I’ve deserved it.”

  “Shall I tell you what I think? Well, you’re getting proud,” said Françoise in a delightful tone of annoyance.

  “Possibly it’s something like that,” returned the Captain smiling; and then he became serious and was silent.

  His sudden silences in the midst of the most cheerful conversation constituted one of the riddles which Mlle, de la Boulays was unable to solve. True, there were moments when the Captain not only baffled her completely by his silences, but occasionally by expressing opinions which were incomprehensible and directly at variance with those held by most level-headed persons. He sometimes uttered a word, and at the same time gave a peculiar smile, which seemed to indicate that he was not entirely in agreement on these matters with the rest of the world.

  Nevertheless Françoise was convinced that she had never in the course of her life met a finer intelligence than his, nor a more sympathetic mind, nor a braver heart.