Collected Works of Gaston Leroux

by Gaston Leroux

  The janitor assured me no one had called to see me. If Durin had climbed the five flights to my rooms, he had managed to do so unobserved.

  Of course I didn’t believe a word Helena had said. I opened the drawer. Lo and behold! There was the necklace!

  What a close call I had had to-day! What had those two, Durin and Helena — Lord and Lady Douglas Sherfield — what had they been scheming against me? But I remained firm. It must have surprised her a little to find me so determined. And Durin could not know the truth! The stupid little Frenchman had come out of the whole affair pretty creditably.

  After all, what was I risking in holding the necklace just as she had told me to?

  But where was I going to put it?

  And I must not forget that Helena had warned me. She wanted to balk my taking the real necklace from Durin; a good way to do this was to steal the imitation from me.

  Yes, there was no choice; I must hide the imitation. But to wear it on my person as she had suggested — never! First, one must distrust advice from competitors; moreover, what man wants to wear pearls?

  Behind my bed there was a little panel in the wall. Nobody else would ever guess it was there; but Durin would. Some other plan then; better not hide it in my own room. But where? I have an idea! Why not leave it with those two young women across the hall — my neighbours?

  Three weeks ago they had left for Lion-by-the-Sea. What they called their “villa” is nothing more than a shack made of rough planks. It was there that last year I spent several delightful days.

  The necklace would be perfectly safe in their chimney. No one will be making a fire there for three months, and by that time I will have completed my triumph.

  I’ll hide the necklace, then go over to the Cambridge to look up Gorshman. I shall see Helena, and I will find out if she can laugh as well as she cried.

  Arriving there somewhat late, I found Gorshman very much excited.

  “She’s here!” was his greeting. “Just a few moments ago she walked past my table. She looked at me! Now you know very well I’m not one of the conceited kind? Well, old man, she smiled at me!”

  I was smiling too; there was something so ridiculous in the idea that Helena could love Gorshman. Even to him it seemed strange.

  “She smiled at me! I was so taken back I must have looked silly.... She must have mistaken me for someone else, don’t you think, someone she knows?”

  I played with little fat Gorshman.

  “Why so? Is there any reason why she shouldn’t like your looks?”

  “Do you really think so?” he asked. “It’s the first time anything like that ever happened. In general, women don’t pay much attention to me.”

  “Nonsense. Women don’t like anyone in general; they concentrate on the particular.”

  “Well, we’ll see. If she smiles at me again as she leaves, it will mean something. I’ll not stir from this spot before she goes.”

  We dined. Little Gorshman was all excitement; he kept pouring out one glass of water after another; he could talk only of her. I listened with a serious face; he hadn’t the least suspicion that I had spent half the afternoon making love to her, the other half in reproaching her. Just to tease him a little, I said:

  “If I were you I’d be on my guard against her husband. Something about him I don’t like.”

  “Nonsense,” he answered, not the least disturbed. “I’m not afraid of anything. One kiss from that woman would be worth risking death for.”

  There you have the effect of a mere smile from Helena upon a timorous little man, who up to this time had feared all women and fled from them.

  So we ate our dinner while Gorshman sang Helena’s praises. Suddenly, as the dessert was brought in, he touched my elbow.

  “There they are,” he whispered.

  Helena walked in like a goddess. Not a trace of emotion on her face. The dark circles under her eyes had disappeared. A slight smile played on her lips and was accentuated a little as she passed our table. And that smile was not for me; it was for Gorshman. It was a smile frankly directed to Gorshman; further, she bestowed a long, caressing glance on him.

  “Did you see that?” he asked excitedly. “Didn’t you see it! That proves I’ve not been dreaming all this.”

  True. He was not dreaming. Helena had smiled at him and let her eyes linger upon him. What was the meaning of all this, I asked myself. Why should she want to infatuate Gorshman? If it were another woman the answer would be easy. She would want to make me jealous. But that’s not like Helena. And then, too, she knows I’m already jealous of Durin. One jealousy may engender passion; two result only in disgust.

  But if Gorshman could be of any use to her she would enthral him. How could he be useful to her? Let us wait.

  Let us wait, but at the same time be ready to act if occasion should present itself.

  They keep to themselves. They shall not make use of me. That’s definite.

  They have the necklace and riches. Durin has Helena, and Helena doesn’t attempt to leave Durin. For the sake of decency and of my revenge, I must shatter that criminal happiness. Let us leave Gorshman. Let him babble on and dream that the most beautiful of women prostrates herself at his feet and begs him to love her.

  And let us go back to the rue des Bernardins to reflect on all these things if we can.

  IX.

  A GHOST APPEARS

  BUT I COULDN’T think of anything. I was worn out by the varied emotions I had experienced that day. I had hardly touched the bed when I fell into a death-like sleep. The moment I woke up Helena was the first thing in my thoughts.

  If she had really been there with me, I would have been harsh and cruel to her; since she was not there with me I loved her. I was in that situation which has been so many, many times described; I couldn’t live with her, and I couldn’t live without her.

  And, last night, I saw her smile at Gorshman — an ominous smile, too, it was. I couldn’t make out what it meant; but whatever it was, I didn’t want to admit she smiled at Gorshman.

  That single smile was a kind of prostitution. Not that I had the least illusion about that creature’s virtue, but there are limits to which even infamy may go.

  Was I really going to keep on loving the woman who could smile at Gorshman? Was I going to keep on listening to that swine go into ecstasies over Helena’s beauty? Who knows? It may be that some time he’ll confide in me.... I must listen to his babblings then.

  She’ll make him think anything she wants to have him think; you can’t judge that woman by any ordinary standard. She might even tell him the truth, and the name of the man who robbed him.

  I had it! This was her plan! She couldn’t accuse me, neither could Durin. In that case, in order to save myself, I would accuse them. But if she should tell Gorshman, I was lost!

  Yes, it would no longer be a question of the murder of Archibald Skarlett; it would be a robbery in which neither she nor her husband had any part — the Gorshman robbery — not such a very important matter. The judge would give me only a few weeks in prison. For whether I did or didn’t restore the plunder, I had committed a crime, broken into a house. Even if I was acquitted — still I would certainly be dishonourably dropped from the bar, be unable to practise my profession. My life would be wrecked.

  And once detectives were on my track, they would certainly learn that I was the one who robbed Petit-Jean, and broke into the Chavrier mansion.

  I must be dumb not to have thought of that before. Thus Gorshman, knowing that I robbed him and actuated by that woman, might become my executioner.

  What publicity for him! He’d never resist it!

  I could hear her telling him: “It was your friend who robbed you. Go, darling, go quickly and tell Detective Petit-Jean. The moment he hears that he can catch Mr. Flow... he’ll get him immediately. Don’t you want to believe what I say, darling? All right; ask him to dinner, and set aside his glass. Compare the prints and then you’ll see.”

  If she were
to tell him that, there’d be nothing left for me but to make way with myself.

  I would wager that was her plan! Why hadn’t I seen it before?

  When she smiled that smile at Gorshman before my very eyes, she wanted me to understand that one word from her would ruin me without compromising either her or Durin. Thus I was her prisoner; she could break me if and when she wanted to.

  Mr. Flow made a mistake in not putting his gloves on earlier.

  And I had thought I was so strong! I had been thinking I would be able some day to master them, Helena and Douglas! But they were stronger than I was; they held me bound., If only someone would tell me what I could do! For the moment all I could do was to yield... to give in....

  I saw what would happen if I made a move. Gorshman would tell Petit-Jean. Immediately the detective would recall that we dined together, and that he told me all about the lay-out of his home — his dog, his collection of stamps — and that this happened just before the robbery. The Gorshman incident. Then the Petit-Jean incident. Both as clear as the light of day. Now remained only the Chavrier affair. Even though I was masked, Chavrier and Parmin would recognize me at once. Then the penitentiary for me! Crowds would press into the court-room the day the judge sentenced me; the inglorious finish of my basking in the spotlight would be on every tongue. Better hide away, bury myself in the jungle!

  All this for taking the doctor’s advice to go in for sports!

  If Helena were to have come now she would have found me all eagerness to see her.... There would be never a harsh word... never a reproach.

  Someone ringing the bell!... I was all atremble... could it be the detectives already? I slipped my revolver in my pyjama pocket and opened the door.

  It was Helena!

  Quietly and affectionately Helena offered me her lips.

  “How are you, darling?”

  What a relief! Eagerly I drew her towards me and covered her with kisses. I was saved! Her being there meant that as yet she had not betrayed me.

  It wasn’t Helena that I was embracing with those unfeigned transports of joy. No. It was deliverance!

  But she had no suspicion of that, of course; almost savagely she held me in her arms.

  “Oh, the naughty Rudy! Why was he such a bad boy last night?”

  “You must forgive me, Helena.... I suffered so much, and I have repented so much.”

  She seemed to take a keen joy at the thought of that repentance.

  After a silence of some minutes she raised her tired eyelids.

  “You are a very wise Rudy.”

  What did she mean by that? Did she guess my fears? Did she suspect that my tenderness, following so closely upon my gruff sternness of yesterday, was inspired by fear lest she denounce me to Gorshman, who, through Petit-Jean, would inform the prosecutor?

  She did not explain, and I asked no questions. What good would questioning do? Words count for nothing with such people. There was only one thing for me to do; that was to play the rôle of a man bereft of calm reason by passion. That would be easy, with the beautiful Helena in my arms.

  “Yes, my Rudy is very intelligent,” she said again, this time as though to herself. Then she looked at me suspiciously. “My Rudy has hidden the necklace very safely?”

  I answered with half a smile.

  “My Helena is very wise.”

  “I am,” she answered quietly. “Less so, perhaps, when I am with you, Rudy, for I love you. And you, darling, when you no longer doubt that I love you, you will be more so. Don’t you think so?”

  I did not know what I was going to say when she covered my mouth with her hand.

  “Don’t say anything, Rudy. It may not be what I want to hear.”

  She closed her eyes again. Strange woman! Why had she come here this morning? Doubtless to assure herself that I had understood her silent warning last night and that she might still count on me to help her in some shady undertaking. She said she loved me.... That couldn’t be true. Real love doesn’t clutter itself up with such complications. Love is all frankness and confidence. I might have believed she loved me had she told me everything.

  But she told me nothing. How was I to interpret her few sibylline words? Why had she come? Why? And how did she manage to come? Only yesterday she swore she was practically Durin’s prisoner; to-day she seemed to be absolutely free to do as she liked. She no longer feared lest he follow her and kill me after the fashion of a husband dishonoured. No longer was she afraid for her own life or for mine. It was all very strange.

  But don’t give yourself up to suspicions and anger, my boy! And remember, this woman has you in her power! You are playing a dangerous game. If, instead of coming here, she had gone to Gorshman’s house to-day, God only knows where you would be this moment. Be grateful to this woman for not having told what she knows about you, for bestowing all her kisses upon you, for lying here so ecstatically in your arms... be grateful to this woman who confesses she loves you. Gather rosebuds while you may and don’t be constantly uneasy. You are in no immediate danger. “Tell me, Rudy, what are you thinking about?”

  The age-old question, always impossible to answer truthfully.

  “I’m thinking of you, darling.”

  “Of course you are. I know you’re thinking of me, Rudy. But what about me?”

  “I was thinking what would happen if you were to disappear and I should be left to my loneliness and my regrets; if you should leave now in a few minutes and I should not know if you would ever come back.”

  “I can come back now whenever I want to.”

  “He permits you that freedom?”

  “Yes. Since you let me go back to him yesterday, he thinks there is no more reason why I should leave him to-day than yesterday. He does not care whether I am faithful to him. You know he hasn’t loved me for a long time now. But he does not want me to desert him. It was only because he feared I wouldn’t come back to him again that he forbade me to go out — fear that I’d run off with you. I didn’t and so he feels safe. Oh, he may watch your house! But when I leave here, he asks nothing more than I turn my steps towards the Cambridge.”

  Must I believe that? Certainly not. But I had to make believe I did. Patience! I would end by sifting the false from the true. For the time being I was in her power. I must not forget that!

  She reflected a moment. Then, point blank, she asked:

  “Do you remember Victor?”

  Victor? How could I help remembering Victor? Durin’s former confederate, - the Victor who was so skilled in the art of make-up f who by order of the “boss” of the barber’s-shop had made up M. Antonin Rose so cleverly as Mr. Hooker; Victor who knew all about my old adventures. Often I had thought of him, and I supposed that Durin had caused his disappearance.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” I answered.

  “No, he’s not dead.”

  “What? Victor’s not dead? What’s the matter with your Durin?”

  These words slipped out suddenly, impelled by the terror that had seized me.

  “Victor isn’t dead?” I repeated, in desperation. “Not dead, and he had betrayed you! He betrayed you to Sir Archibald! You told me so yourself, Helena! At Black Rooks, last year, before... before our friendship. You told me... and you added — your words still ring in my ears — you added: ‘As to this Victor, his goose is cooked. Durin will see to that.’ And Durin didn’t... Durin did nothing... he let Victor live!... he has let a man like that live... a man who knows what Durin is, who knows you, who knows me, who knows everything about us!... It’s madness, Helena, sheer madness... or else...? Perhaps they have been reconciled? That’s madness, too. A traitor betrays, then betrays again. How could you think he would be faithful now, when he betrayed you last year?”

  “Don’t get excited,” Helena whispered in her calm voice. “Durin knows it. He knows it as well as you do. Probably he wasn’t able to do it. I don’t know about that; he didn’t tell me. Perhaps it isn’t always so easy to kill a man, darling Rudy...at
any rate Victor isn’t dead... that’s one thing sure.”

  “Then where is he? Where is he?”

  “I don’t know anything about that either, darling.”

  “But Durin knows; he knows, doesn’t he?”

  “Oh,” sighed Helena, “who can say what Durin knows or what he doesn’t know? He mentioned Victor yesterday, that’s all I know. I was particularly impressed because he never says anything off-hand. Now, did he want me to understand that sooner or later Victor would tell all about you? Wasn’t it one way of letting me know that Victor has a hold over you and that you must be very careful...?”

  I was speechless for a moment. Durin had me in his power through Victor, and Helena through Gorshman. Each had his own grounds for accusing me. Whenever they wanted to speak up, they could pack me off to the penitentiary. In other words, I must obey.

  “What do you want me to do, Helena?”

  She looked at me, surprised.

  “Nothing in the world, Rudy. What could you do? There’s nothing to do. Don’t be silly, darling. Kiss me; that’s the only thing that matters.”

  She was sorry to see me look so worried, so she said:

  “I should not have spoken to you of Victor... don’t think of him any more, darling Rudy.”

  My God! If we were able to think only of just what we wanted to, I would certainly never think of Victor again. But I should have to think of him. First, if it was really true that he betrayed Durin to Sir Archibald? That was told me last year just to scare me, wasn’t it, and to show me what was expected of me? With these outlaws who could say where drama begins and where deception leaves off?

  “Helena, we must find out where Victor is. We must go to him and..

  “Oh, my Rudy, don’t think any more about that. I’m enmeshed in enough crimes already, darling. I’d rather think of Victor as being alive.”

  I was frightened.

  “But he can ruin us, Helena; ruin us whenever he wants to.”

  She shrugged her shoulders and said:

  “Darling, we don’t have to think of that. What good will it do him to ruin us — you and me? If he wants to ruin anyone, it will be Durin... and Durin can defend himself. We’ll have to let him...” She reflected a moment, then sighed: “It’s getting late. Kiss me, Rudy.”