Collected Works of Gaston Leroux

by Gaston Leroux

  ‘Are you sure of that?’ asked Lalouette, almost breathlessly.

  ‘I just said so, didn’t I?... I took considerable pains to find out... do you know where they met for the first time?’

  ‘No, where?’

  ‘Guess.’

  ‘How could I?’

  ‘Well, then, it was right here... on this very train... by the merest luck... as they were on their way to make their pre-election call upon Lonstalot... naturally they all came back together... and before their mysterious deaths, something very terrible must have happened to them, because they always met in the greatest secrecy.... That’s what I think, anyway.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right... something must have happened to them, something no one knew... but nothing has happened to me... not to me... not yet....’

  Just then the train stopped at their station and they started in surprise. Their thoughts had been very far from La Varenne; they weren’t even thinking what they had come for. As they stepped to the platform, Lalouette said:

  ‘If you knew these things when you first came to see me in my shop, why wait till the last minute? It’s a damned rotten trick.’

  Chapter 10. The Dungeon of Living Death

  THEY COULDN’T FIND a taxi at the station, so they had to walk to Chennevière. Crossing the bridge just as night was coming on, they chose a short cut to the isolated home of the great Lonstalot - the road along the bank of the Marne. Lalouette stopped short suddenly and looked his companion straight in the eye.

  ‘So, my dear Patard,’ he asked, ‘you don’t really think they are going to murder me, do you?’

  ‘Why, they?’ exclaimed the secretary, who looked uneasy.

  ‘How would I know?... those who killed the other men—’

  ‘Well, to start with, who told you that the others were murdered?’ Patard asked, this time almost sulkily.

  ‘You did.’

  ‘I? I said nothing of the sort. How could I, since I know nothing?’

  ‘I’d like to tell you something, confidentially. I very much want to be a member of the Academy.’

  ‘But you are, sir.’

  ‘That’s so,’ and Lalouette heaved a sigh.

  They walked along the river-bank, Lalouette completely under the disturbing influence of a fixed idea.

  ‘Still, I wouldn’t like to be murdered!’

  Patard shrugged his shoulders. This man he had taken for a hero but who was nothing but a scheming coward, was beginning to appear less admirable every moment. He decided to bring him up short.

  ‘My dear sir, there are some situations in life that are worth the price of a big risk.’ And he thought to himself: ‘There, that will give him a jolt, perhaps!’ As a matter of fact he was getting tired of Lalouette’s whinings. No matter how difficult, mysterious and even appalling the situation was, Patard thought any one was pretty lucky to be made a member of the Academy — particularly a man who couldn’t read!

  Patard’s veiled rebuke must have made his point, for Lalouette’s gaze shifted to the ground. When he raised his eyes again, it was to ask the humiliating question, ‘Is it absolutely necessary that I deliver that discourse?’

  The secretary looked at the deep and sullen waters of the Marne and then at Lalouette’s crestfallen face. A sudden impulse seized him. Would it matter if he pushed him into the water — splash — just like that?

  Instead Patard drew closer to the new member and took him gently by the arm. In the first place, Monsieur Hippolyte Patard was devoid of any criminal instinct, and then it suddenly flashed upon him that it would only mean a fourth death in the distinguished Academy.

  The thought sent cold shivers up his spine. Then he knew what he would do. He would cheer up the good Lalouette. Taking him by the arm, Patard assured him of his sincere and undying gratitude.... In the hope of rekindling Lalouette’s academic ardour, he talked to him of future glory. He described the triumph of the next day, the delirious crowds that would acclaim him. He melted Lalouette’s heart when he painted an imposing picture of Madame Lalouette seated in her box receiving all the honours due her as the glorious spouse of the Man of the Hour.

  Thus they walked along, cheering each other up, striving to appear brave and gay-spirited. They were even laughing aloud, when all of a sudden they realized that they had reached Lonstalot’s iron gateway.

  ‘Watch out for the dogs!’ said Lalouette.

  But the dogs were not to be seen or heard; more surprising still, the gate was open.

  Nevertheless, Patard rang the bell. Nobody answered. ‘Let’s go in,’ he ventured.

  ‘I’m afraid of those dogs,’ Lalouette repeated. ‘You go first.’

  They went up to the porch. No one to be seen in the garden, in the courtyard, in the house. They noticed a feeble gaslight in the hallway. They called out; they stood still awaiting an answer; not a sound. All the doors leading into the hall were closed.

  There they stood, confused, and anxious, staring at each other. Suddenly the house shook with a terrible clamour and a terrifying human shriek echoed through the night.

  Patard’s wispy forelock rose on his bald head. Lalouette leaned against the wall, trembling.

  ‘That’s it... that’s the human cry I heard!’

  Rigid with fear, Hippolyte Patard found strength enough to whisper, ‘It’s the cry of some one who has been hurt.... We must go see.

  But he didn’t stir.

  ‘No... no, that’s the same cry.... I know it,’ said Lalouette in hushed tones, ‘I heard it before... listen... it’s beginning again.’

  It came again, like a long-drawn-out groan, a distant wailing.

  ‘It’s downstairs... in the laboratory... some accident... perhaps something has happened to Lonstalot down there.’

  As he said this, Patard went farther into the hallway and took the narrow stairway leading down to the laboratory. The groaning continued, intermingled now and again with indistinct words which seemed to bespeak terrible suffering.

  ‘I tell you, Lonstalot’s met with an accident.’

  He went down the staircase, followed bravely by Lalouette; the weeping and the wailing persisted. When they opened the laboratory door the noises ceased; there was nobody to be seen.

  Everything was in perfect order. Bottles, liquids, retorts, the large fireplace used for experiments, tables, shelves — everything was clean and neat and carefully put to rights. Not the slightest evidence of any trouble. Patard was baffled.

  ‘That’s very strange,’ said Lalouette. ‘Nobody’s around.’

  ‘Not a soul!’

  Suddenly the inhuman cry came again; they were almost taken off their feet with fear. It seemed to come from beneath the ground.

  Patard pointed to a trap-door in the floor.

  ‘There’s where it comes from... some one must have fallen through.’

  He leaned over the trap-door; the groaning ceased.

  ‘That’s strange... here’s a room I didn’t know anything about... looks like another laboratory under the first one.’ Cautiously he went down, Lalouette close on his heels.

  This subterranean laboratory was fitted up just as carefully and completely as the first one. But here everything was in great disorder as though some one had just been making some experiments and left before they were completed.

  They looked all around carefully. Not a trace of a human being anywhere.

  Suddenly, with a shriek of horror, both shrank back. A corner of the laboratory was separated from the rest of the cellar by a grating of iron bars. Back of those ban, like a wild animal in his cage... a man... yes, a man whose large, burning eyes glared at them in the silence.

  The two men stood congealed with fear. The man behind the ban broke the oppressive silence.

  ‘Have you come to save me?... If so, hurry... for I hear them coming back... and they will kill you like flies.’

  Still the two men stood as motionless as statues - and as silent.

  ‘Are you deaf?... If they see
you.... There, I hear them.... The giant makes the earth shake.... They’ll have the dogs tear you to pieces!’

  As he spoke, they heard a furious barking which seemed to come from under the ground. Now they understood!

  They looked around for a means of escape. And the man in the cage kept on moaning.

  ‘Killed by the dogs... if they learn you have discovered the secret... the great Lonstalot’s secret!... Ah!... Ah!... like flies... by the dogs!’

  Patard and Lalouette, wild with fear, rushed toward the stairs leading to the trap-door.

  ‘Not that way!’ yelled the man. ‘Don’t you hear them coming?... ah, there they are!... with the dogs!’

  Ajax and Achilles had come into the house... it began to sound like Purgatory re-echoing with the howling of demons.

  ‘How can we get out? How? Oh, how?’ cried the two desperate men, while the man behind the iron bars swore at them and besought them to be quiet.

  ‘Shut up! They’ll get you just like all the others... kill you like flies... be quiet!’

  The two men, almost certain they could see the savage jaws of Ajax and Achilles at the trap-door, rushed to the opposite side of the cellar toward the man’s cage; it was now their turn to implore him to save them... they even envied him!

  They kneeled imploringly against the bars, and he grabbed them by the hair of their heads and shook them.

  ‘Shut up... and let’s try to save ourselves... listen... the dogs... Tobie is making them be quiet... he makes the earth tremble... but he suspects nothing... ah, what an idiot... you are lucky!’

  He relaxed his hold.

  ‘Listen... quick, quick... in the drawer of that table... a key!’

  Both men rushed to the drawer and began to fumble in it nervously with trembling hands.

  ‘A key... it opens the door... the dogs are chained... quick... look everywhere carefully... he puts it there every day... after he has fed me.

  ‘But there’s no key here!’

  ‘Then the giant has kept it, the brute, Tobie... keep quiet... don’t stir... ah!... there they are!... they’re coming down!... listen... the giant is making the staircase creak....’

  Lalouette and Patard wheeled around.

  ‘Don’t lose your heads like that,’ whispered the prisoner... ‘listen... in the corners of the fireplace... one on each side... don’t stir... soon they’ll go to their dinner... if he sees you... he’ll kill you, like flies, my poor, dear men, just like flies!’

  In an agony of fear Patard and Lalouette remained hidden, each in his corner of the huge fireplace in the underground laboratory. Profound darkness enveloped them; they could see nothing; they could only gather what was going on by the sounds they heard.

  First the staircase creaked and groaned as Tobie, the giant, came down.

  ‘You left the trap-door open again, master,’ he said. ‘That will bring you bad luck... some time.’

  His heavy step went up to the cage where the man was imprisoned.

  ‘Dédé took advantage of it to shriek at the top of his lungs. Didn’t you, Dédé?’

  ‘Of course he did,’ answered Lonstalot in his shrill voice. ‘I heard him when I was near the big oak tree just as I finally caught Ajax!... But at that hour there was no one in the neighbourhood!’

  ‘You never can tell,’ grumbled the giant. ‘You might have some callers just like the other time... the trap-door must always be kept closed... then everything is quiet... it’s padded... you can’t hear a sound.’

  ‘If you hadn’t left the iron gate open, you old fool, and let the dog out... you know very well they’ll come back only when I call them... I never thought of the trap-door.’

  ‘Did you shriek, Dédé?’ asked the giant.

  But he got no answer. The man behind the iron bars was as still as death.

  ‘The dogs are wild tonight,’ the giant went on. ‘I could hardly chain them, when they came back. I thought they would tear up everything in sight. They acted just the way they did that night toe found the three gentlemen standing here in front of Dédé’s cage.... The dogs had escaped that night, too, and we had to chase after them.’

  ‘Don’t speak to me of that night. Tobie,’ said Lonstalot in his piping voice.

  ‘That was the very night,’ the giant went on, ‘when I was sure something was going to happen to us... for Dédé had shrieked, and had kept on chattering with them... didn’t you Dédé?’

  No answer.

  ‘But they had bad luck,’ said the giant slowly, in his heavy voice. ‘They are dead.’

  ‘Yes, they are dead.’

  ‘All three dead.’

  ‘All three of them,’ the great Lonstalot repeated, like a sinister echo, in his cracked voice.

  ‘It was just as though it had been done purposely,’ said the giant gloomily.

  A sigh, half of terror and half of anguish, shook the two hidden men, whose trembling made the laboratory paraphernalia rattle.

  ‘You heard?’ asked Lonstalot.

  ‘Was that you, Dédé?’ said the giant.

  ‘Yes,’ answered the man in the cage.

  ‘Are you sick?’ Lonstalot asked him. ‘Find out, Tobie, what’s the matter with him. He shrieked terribly just a minute ago. Perhaps he’s hungry... are you hungry, Dédé?’

  ‘Listen,’ said the man in the cage. ‘Here’s the formula... it’s completed... you ought to give me something to eat now. I’ve earned my supper.’

  ‘Go take his formula and give him his supper,’ Lonstalot commanded. The giant took it from Dédé and handed it to Lonstalot.

  He examined it for a few seconds. ‘Marvellous,’ he said; ‘it’s wonderful, Dédé. You didn’t tell me you were working at this.’

  ‘I’ve been working at it for the last eight days... day and night... do you hear?... and there it is now, all finished.’

  Lonstalot gave a sigh. ‘What a genius you are!’ he said.

  ‘Has he discovered something else?’ Tobie asked.

  ‘He has... and he’s been working it up into this beautiful new formula,’ answered Lonstalot.

  To Dédé he said, ‘You’re a real alchemist, my boy. What you’ve discovered here is something like the transmutation of metals.... You’re quite sure of the experiment, Dédé?’

  ‘I made three experiments with chloride of potassium... no one can now say that matter is unalterable.... I’ve discovered a really new potassium... has no likeness to the original.

  ‘And does the same apply to the chloride?’ asked Lonstalot.

  ‘Yes, the same for the chloride.’

  ‘Marvellous!’

  ‘And now what reward do you want for your trouble, Dédé?’

  ‘I want some marmalade and a glass of good wine.’

  ‘All right, tonight you may have a glass of good wine. It can’t do you any harm.’

  Then all of a sudden it was as though that relatively peaceful cellar began to rock with an underground tempest, a breaking forth of shrieks, lamentations, maledictions. Even in their terrible fright, the two visitors realized that Dédé was struggling like a savage beast behind his iron bars.

  ‘Murderers!’ he yelled. ‘Murderers... wretched thieves... filthy jailer, prison-keeper of my genius... you thief of a Lonstalot, you monster, whom I supply with glory and who rewards me with a piece of bread... your crimes will be punished, hear me... punished.... God will make you suffer... all the world shall know your evil deeds... somebody must come to save me.... You shall not kill them all.... I’ll drag your wretched carcass about... by the skin of the neck.

  ‘Stop! Stop! That’s enough.... Make him stop, Tobie.’ The words rattled from Lonstalot’s throat.

  The iron gate grated on its hinges.

  ‘I’ll not shut up... do you hear?... by the skin of your neck... of the neck... no, no, not that... help! help!... yes, I’ll be quiet... I’m quiet now... by the skin of the neck... to the scaffold! I’ll keep quiet!’

  Again the iron gate grating on its hinge
s, and in the deep shadowy cellar the weak groaning of some one falling asleep after a terrible outburst of anger... or of some one slowly dying.

  Chapter 11. A Flight Into the Night

  LITTLE BY LITTLE the cave-like cellar became deathly still. Huddled in their corners of the fireplace, neither Patard nor Lalouette gave the slightest sign of life. They flattened themselves against the wall so as not to risk being seen.

  Then they heard the man in the iron-barred cage say, ‘You can come out now... they’re gone.’

  Again only silence... again the voice, saying, ‘Are you both dead?’

  Finally, from out of the flickering shadows of the laboratory-tomb, two outlines timidly appeared... first the heads, then the entire bodies... and then they stopped short.

  ‘Don’t be afraid... you can come out all the way,’ said Dédé. ‘They’ll not come back tonight... and the trap-door is closed.’

  The two silhouettes moved forward again, but very cautiously, stopping at each step. Feeling their way with out-stretched hands, they walked on tiptoe until they reached the dimly lighted cage. Dédé, standing up, was awaiting them.

  They sank to their knees in front of the bars.

  It was Patard who spoke first.

  ‘Ah, my poor fellow!’

  ‘We thought they were murdering you,’ said Lalouette.

  ‘And you hid in the fireplace just the same?’ the man asked. In a confused manner they tried to explain that their lips had refused to move; that they had never been so frightened; that they were scholars and not accustomed to such harrowing experiences; that —

  ‘Scholars, hey? Members of the Academy, perhaps?’ said the man. ‘One day three of them came here... three candidates making their official visits... the brigand found them here... I never saw them again... by listening to him and the giant, I learned they are all dead... he must have killed them like flies!’