Collected Works of Gaston Leroux

by Gaston Leroux

  CHAPTER VI

  INCIDENTALS

  THE MAN FOUND himself in a most charming, luxurious and tasteful setting. It was the boudoir of the beautiful Sonia and the man was Jacques.

  He at once sat down to his work at a Buhl table, between a large Coromandel screen standing before the door of the bedroom, and an elegant bookcase contrived in the old grey wainscoting in the Marie Antoinette style. The sight of this man working to overthrow the State by violent means in this lovely and exquisitely perfumed boudoir, a sanctuary of love transformed into a political laboratory, was no ordinary one.

  Jacques drew from his inside coat pocket two long wallets and emptied their contents on the table. Here were some hundreds of sheets of notepaper bearing the heading of the Chamber of Deputies or the Senate. The notepaper contained a certain amount of printed matter, and Jacques proceeded to fill in the blank spaces with his pen.

  Suddenly he looked up. He heard the sound of footsteps traversing the next room and a key being put into the door leading to the boudoir. Sonia came in.

  “I am very thankful to you for joining me so early,” he said. “Will you lend me a hand? Where have you been?” And going on with his writing he asked: “What about the servants — your maid?”

  “In bed. You have accustomed me, you know, to do without servants since you have taken to invade me here. But to-night, my dear fellow, before leaving you will have to unfasten sundry hooks.”

  He looked at her. She let her cloak drop, appearing before him as he had never seen her and yet as she had been all the evening — clad in a frock of great audacity that had created a sensation; but until then, in truth, he had been so utterly preoccupied that though appearing to see her he had not noticed her.

  “Good heavens!” he said. “Dressed as you are I am surprised that you should need any help to take that frock off.”

  “Pleasant as usual,” she said.

  “I asked you where you had been. You must have achieved some success.”

  “Bah! people are thinking only of you. We went for a time to Magic, then on to the Bal d’Ispahan with Martinez and Lucienne Drice, and then we had supper in a dancing-hall. I wanted to feel the pulse of public opinion.”

  “I presume it is not too bad?”

  “Excellent. Everyone is talking of your ‘assassinations,’ and they say: ‘He is very clever. Nothing will stop him.’”

  “I hope you don’t believe in any of these absurdities.”

  “Well, dear, you can never tell. I know you so little.”

  She had drawn near him with her slow, queenly, graceful step and sat down beside him, her form brushing against him; and he felt irritated by the warm fragrance of this beautiful woman at a time when he needed all his self-control.

  “Why are you frowning? Am I in the way?” she asked.

  “Yes, you are really too beautiful.”

  “That is the first compliment you have paid me to-day. Now may I retire?”

  “No, stay. I want you. And don’t be a coquette for — for the next twenty-four hours...

  “That’s a long time! But what would I not do for you. Come, I will promise to be good. Let’s talk business.”

  And straightway she showed him a serious face, of an intelligent and serene loveliness, encompassed by wonderful ropes of pearls that wound round her luxuriant golden hair, ran down from her ears, encircled her neck, and fell on her alabaster breast in sprays.

  Her long hands, bedecked with rings clever at fingering bronze, ivory, silk, and such precious things, were clasped above the table. He slipped a pen between them.

  “Write in these letters in the blank spaces as I am doing the words: ‘This morning, Monday, at 5 o’clock.’ As d’Askof is not here you will have to be my secretary. Why isn’t he here?”

  “Because I told him that you could not meet him until half-past three this morning. I wanted to speak to you of this man before you saw him again. Be on your guard against him, my dear friend. He hates you.... He hates you because he is in love with me.”

  “I really don’t see the connection,” said Jacques in a coldly evasive tone which wrung the heart of the beautiful Sonia.

  “Oh, I know, I know.... I know that you are not in love with me. But he may imagine that I am in love with you.... And he may imagine also that you are in love with me.”

  “What next! My dear lady, you amaze me. Baron d’Askof is aware that I have been engaged for a long time, and he knows me well enough not to do me the injustice of believing that had I aspired to a person like you, Sonia, the most beautiful and understanding of women, I would not have devoted my life to you. Now my life does not belong to me.”

  He uttered these words quickly while continuing to write. As he spoke of his engagement the pen in Sonia’s hand shook. “Besides,” he went on without looking up, “has not my attitude always been entirely correct?”

  “Say rather utterly detached,” she returned. “When we are together we look like two business men. You were not always so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the beginning of our friendship, when it was a question of winning me... Oh, of winning me over to your plans, of making me your slave with the object of carrying out your aims — remember how attentive, how assiduous you were.... My dear man, others besides d’Askof might have thought that you were in love with me — I most of all.”

  “What nonsense! Now you are jesting. Forgive me if I seem a little...”

  “Yes, a little brutal...”

  “Thanks, I deserve a different word, but you are far too superior a woman not to have grasped from the first that there could be no place in my thoughts for love at a time when they were so completely, so fiercely absorbed in these hateful politics.”

  “Well, I dare say you think me far more superior than I am in reality,” she said, rising to her feet, shifting some books on the shelves, and thrusting her hand into a deep recess, “for when I received these letters I was simple enough to think you were in love.”

  She threw before him a perfumed sachet from which a number of letters slipped out. He glanced through them, smiled, and said:

  “Still, it’s quite true.”

  “So you were lying! There wasn’t a single sincere word in all those pretty compliments.”

  “No, I was not lying. If you are absolutely bent on my repeating what I said here I will say to you again: ‘Sonia, you are adorable!’ And that is why I no longer write it to you. I was afraid of falling in love with you, my dear lady. That is the whole story.”

  “I saw Mlle de la Morlière in the Chamber today,” she went on in a serious voice. “Do you realize that she is pretty — very pretty?”

  Jacques did not answer. His brows puckered. She had the courage to ask him:

  “You love her, do you not?”

  “Yes,” he returned bluntly, fuming.

  Sonia remained motionless. Two tears coursed down her cheeks. Then she, too, began to write.... After a while she said in a voice that she strove to render firm:

  “I see that it is to be Monday at five o’clock in the morning. You will win through, and either we shall be parted for ever or united in death, which is the same thing, for I have no wish to survive you. Life would be too boring after so much excitement. Forgive me, therefore, if before that tragic moment I wished to know... I shall not have to reproach myself with distracting you from your aim, and I say frankly that I shall be satisfied with our talk if I have succeeded in putting you on your guard against d’Askof.”

  “It was he who introduced us to each other,” broke in Jacques, “and I shall be everlastingly grateful to him for that. It was he who conceived the idea of establishing communication between your house and the cabaret, and of placing a door in the wall of my flat in the Avenue de Jena so that while people think I am at home I am here quietly overthrowing the Constitution, assisted by the kindest and most devoted of secretaries. It was he, too, who contrived the scheme by which we could communicate with each other, th
anks to the most amusing and unsuspected of pass-words — the peanut dodge.”

  “Oh, ever since that stolen list was returned in a bag of peanuts, your peanuts terrify me.”

  “Let’s finish filling in these invitations, if you don’t mind. Since we are agreed that we must beware of d’Askof it is not necessary for him to see them when he comes.”

  “But how will you get them delivered? You don’t mean to trust them to the post?” returned Sonia.

  “Not likely! I shall trust them to you. It is through your instrumentality that they will reach their destination. Only you and I know the exact time fixed by me for convoking this special meeting of the Chamber. My dear lady, you must get these forms signed by Lavobourg on Sunday. His signature will legalize to some extent this special summons and strengthen the waverers. But listen carefully: From the moment that Lavobourg signs these forms you must not allow him out of your sight. For then there will be three to know about them, and I consider that too many, though, strictly speaking, if Lavobourg does not leave you, and you continue to keep a watch on him, I shall be easy in my mind.”

  “I promise you it shall be done. Lavobourg will sign the forms and not leave me. But what must I do to make certain of their reaching their destination?”

  “Did you see the man who came this evening from Versailles?”

  “Oh, of course.”

  “Well, this man, a reliable friend of General Mabel’s, will be at the Grand Parc ball with twenty soldiers from my old Subdamoun regiment, at present confined to barracks at Versailles. These men are devoted to me. They will be in Paris on Sunday in plain clothes. It is these men who, at the last moment, will deliver the summons to specified members of the Chamber and Senate after you have given them to their leader, the messenger whom you know. I have had a box reserved for you at the Grand Parc ball which begins at midnight. You will go there with a few friends and, of course, Lavobourg. At two o’clock in the morning the man will come up to you, and you will hand him the packet secretly.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Oh, another important piece of work. When Lavobourg has signed the forms, you must yourself put them in their envelopes and carefully address the envelopes from the names on the list.”

  “Now tell me, Jacques — I think — I think I understand. But what you are going to do is very daring. So you are only summoning the Deputies and Senators mentioned on the list?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, what about the others?”

  “We will give out that the summons failed by accident to reach them, or was delivered too late. I am holding these convocations in reserve, and I shall not have them sent out until everything is over, and then we shall be acting within the law. By that time we shall have voted for the revision of the Constitution.”

  “Where does the President of the Republic come in?”

  “We shall leave him out of the whole business. He will know nothing until both Houses are at Versailles. He will not have to intervene. Neither himself nor his position will be affected, if I may say so. And as the law will not have been broken he will only have to let things be. His silence and non-interference are all that we expect of him for the time being.”

  “And what then?” asked Sonia eagerly.

  “Well, this is how things will happen: At five o’clock in the morning the two Houses will decide on immediate revision and a meeting of the National Assembly for that same morning. The sitting will last ten minutes at most. Thereupon the Senators and Deputies representing the nation and arrogating to themselves the right to dispense in such a crisis with the useless and dilatory procedure of publishing the resolutions in the Journal Officiel will set out for Versailles. Motor-cars will be in readiness for them. At seven o’clock the National Assembly will hold a sitting and decide to begin the revision there and then; it will pass a resolution declaring the Government suspect; and it will nominate a provisional Government reduced to its simplest form — a duumvirate — to act while the revision is in progress.”

  “Who will form the duumvirate?”

  “Myself and your friend Lavobourg. We shall be empowered, as the phrase goes, to dispatch routine business, to watch over the safety of the Assembly, and to protect its work.”

  “But do you think the Assembly will follow you in this course?”

  “I am certain of it. Between now and then I shall have terrified them. They will do whatever I wish. The President of the Senate, to whom the Presidency of the Assembly reverts, will have signed an order in Paris giving General Mabel, commanding the army in Versailles, the task of defending the National Assembly. When the National Assembly arrives in Versailles it will rejoice to see all the troops at their posts and my famous regiment in the courtyard of the Château ready to support and defend it, but, mark me, Sonia, ready also to make it act if I give General Mabel the order.”

  “Heavens, what you tell me sounds scarcely credible.... Why, as soon as the rumour of the morning’s work spreads throughout Paris, and it is known what is happening in Versailles, the Government, which has at its disposal the whole forces of Paris, will move against Versailles.”

  “You forget that it will then be acting against the law.”

  “Well, my dear, don’t let’s juggle with words. They will maintain that it is you who have violated the law.”

  “No, they won’t maintain that, for I shan’t give them the chance.”

  “How about Flottard? You are forgetting Flottard, the civilian head of the military Government of Paris. He’ll come on the scene with his troops.”

  “Why, but don’t you follow me? I told you that the Assembly will at once appoint a provisional Government — a duumvirate — of which I shall be the head. Within five minutes, you understand, of my being entrusted by the legally constituted Assembly of the nation with its safety, I shall have telephoned an order to arrest Flottard, every suspected member of the Government, and most of our headstrong Deputies and politicians!”

  “Cravely will never do it.”

  “Do you take me for a simpleton? Do you think I need the services of that ass? It is the Prefecture of Police that will do the work, my dear Sonia.”

  “I have always said that the Prefect of Police was a perfect gentleman.”

  “Oh, he will only act if we succeed. He will refuse to do anything until he receives a telephone message from Versailles; but then, protected by a spurious legality, he will be thoroughly with us. Up to then he will only be of use to us to separate those whom we wish to be rid of. Some of the telephone wires connecting the Ministries with the Palais Bourbon will not work after a certain hour! Oh, we have thought of everything. We shall nab those worthy gentlemen of the Extreme Left in their beds. Oh, we shan’t hurt them much. They will have a surprising awakening — that’s all. Now do you feel more confident?”

  “What a wonderful man you are, Jacques! If you succeed, where will you stop?”

  “But you forget that I am above all a good Republican.”

  They had finished their writing. Jacques made a parcel of the letters and wrapped them in a newspaper and gave them to her.

  “Here you are. You hold the fate of the Republic in your hands.”

  He knew what he was about in relieving himself of the precious parcel and placing it in her possession. To begin with, though he might fear a last hesitation in the mind of the pusillanimous Lavobourg, he was certain that Lavobourg would not be able to resist Sonia, but would sign the letters either at her request or command; secondly, he knew that the venture was now launched, whatever happened.

  Sonia accepted the charge with an inward joy that knew no bounds. She came nearer him, scorching him with the eager look in her eyes. He could not withstand her when she took his hand and drew him after her.

  “Come! I must show you where I am going to hide these letters until to-morrow night, in case any accident should happen to me. We must provide for every contingency.”

  She had already lifted the curtain and entered t
he bedroom. She let go his hand, switched on the light, seemed to pay no further heed to him, to be in no way constrained by his presence for the first time in this room prepared for her repose with such rare and disturbing luxury. And yet the soft and delicate fragrance in which this feminine privacy was steeped affected him as though he were a schoolboy for all his strength of mind, and even now he was scarcely conscious of her words.

  He saw her graceful form pass lightly over the carpet on which lay the skins of wild beasts; he saw her mount a stool which served as a sort of pedestal; he saw her raise herself on tiptoe to reach the shelves of a small bookcase at the head of the bed.

  “There, this is the place — behind this book. No one would think of looking here for them. I’ll put them with the famous list. Do you know what else there is in my little hiding-place? See, the bag of peanuts, the pink paper bag that we found on the table in my boudoir with the list so strangely returned to me. Say what you like, it was very mysterious — and why these peanuts?”

  “I suppose,” returned Jacques, making an effort to say something, “they were intended to convey to us that the man who brought back the stolen list was one of our friends, one of those who sometimes come here in the evening to work with me, one who knew all about the peanut way, if I may say so, and had no wish to divulge who he was. What then? Why, my dear Sonia, don’t let’s trouble about these peanuts.”

  He uttered these words in a voice so new and strange that she gazed at him as she stood on the stool. He was quite close to her, and held out his hand to assist her. She took his hand and lightly stepped down. But the high heel of her shoes caused her to stagger for a quarter of a second.

  A quarter of a second! Love or Death needs but a quarter of a second when it lies in wait impelled by Fate. In a flash Sonia fell into his arms. He clasped her to his breast. She sighed, and he kissed her.... And as the seconds, minutes, hours sped by... all else was forgotten!...