CHAPTER XV. The Trap
(EXTRACT FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF JOSEPH ROULETABILLE)
"Last night--the night between the 29th and 30th of October--" wroteJoseph Rouletabille, "I woke up towards one o'clock in the morning. Wasit sleeplessness, or noise without?--The cry of the Bete du Bon Dieurang out with sinister loudness from the end of the park. I rose andopened the window. Cold wind and rain; opaque darkness; silence. Ireclosed my window. Again the sound of the cat's weird cry in thedistance. I partly dressed in haste. The weather was too bad for evena cat to be turned out in it. What did it mean, then--that imitatingof the mewing of Mother Angenoux' cat so near the chateau? I seized agood-sized stick, the only weapon I had, and, without making any noise,opened the door.
"The gallery into which I went was well lit by a lamp with a reflector.I felt a keen current of air and, on turning, found the window open, atthe extreme end of the gallery, which I call the 'off-turning' gallery,to distinguish it from the 'right' gallery, on to which the apartment ofMademoiselle Stangerson opened. These two galleries cross each other atright angles. Who had left that window open? Or, who had come to openit? I went to the window and leaned out. Five feet below me there wasa sort of terrace over the semi-circular projection of a room on theground-floor. One could, if one wanted, jump from the window on tothe terrace, and allow oneself to drop from it into the court of thechateau. Whoever had entered by this road had, evidently, not had akey to the vestibule door. But why should I be thinking of my previousnight's attempt with the ladder?--Because of the open window--left open,perhaps, by the negligence of a servant? I reclosed it, smiling atthe ease with which I built a drama on the mere suggestion of an openwindow.
"Again the cry of the Bete du Bon Dieu!--and then silence. The rainceased to beat on the window. All in the chateau slept. I walked withinfinite precaution on the carpet of the gallery. On reaching the cornerof the 'right' gallery, I peered round it cautiously. There was anotherlamp there with a reflector which quite lit up the several objects init,--three chairs and some pictures hanging on the wall. What was Idoing there? Perfect silence reigned throughout. Everything was sunkin repose. What was the instinct that urged me towards MademoiselleStangerson's chamber? Why did a voice within me cry: 'Go on, to thechamber of Mademoiselle Stangerson!' I cast my eyes down upon thecarpet on which I was treading and saw that my steps were being directedtowards Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber by the marks of steps thathad already been made there. Yes, on the carpet were traces of footstepsstained with mud leading to the chamber of Mademoiselle Stangerson.Horror! Horror!--I recognised in those footprints the impression ofthe neat boots of the murderer! He had come, then, from without in thiswretched night. If you could descend from the gallery by way of thewindow, by means of the terrace, then you could get into the chateau bythe same means.
"The murderer was still in the chateau, for here were marks as ofreturning footsteps. He had entered by the open window at the extremityof the 'off-turning' gallery; he had passed Frederic Larsan's door andmine, had turned to the right, and had entered Mademoiselle Stangerson'sroom. I am before the door of her ante-room--it is open. I push it,without making the least noise. Under the door of the room itself I seea streak of light. I listen--no sound--not even of breathing! Ah!--ifI only knew what was passing in the silence that is behind that door!I find the door locked and the key turned on the inner side. And themurderer is there, perhaps. He must be there! Will he escape thistime?--All depends on me!--I must be calm, and above all, I must make nofalse steps. I must see into that room. I can enter it by MademoiselleStangerson's drawing-room; but, to do that I should have to cross herboudoir; and while I am there, the murderer may escape by the gallerydoor--the door in front of which I am now standing.
"I am sure that no other crime is being committed, on this night; forthere is complete silence in the boudoir, where two nurses are takingcare of Mademoiselle Stangerson until she is restored to health.
"As I am almost sure that the murderer is there, why do I not at oncegive the alarm? The murderer may, perhaps, escape; but, perhaps, I maybe able to save Mademoiselle Stangerson's life. Suppose the murderer onthis occasion is not here to murder? The door has been opened toallow him to enter; by whom?--And it has been refastened--bywhom?--Mademoiselle Stangerson shuts herself up in her apartment withher nurses every night. Who turned the key of that chamber to allowthe murderer to enter?--The nurses,--two faithful domestics? The oldchambermaid, Sylvia? It is very improbable. Besides, they slept in theboudoir, and Mademoiselle Stangerson, very nervous and careful, MonsieurRobert Darzac told me, sees to her own safety since she has been wellenough to move about in her room, which I have not yet seen her leave.This nervousness and sudden care on her part, which had struck MonsieurDarzac, had given me, also, food for thought. At the time of thecrime in The Yellow Room, there can be no doubt that she expected themurderer. Was he expected this night?--Was it she herself who had openedher door to him? Had she some reason for doing so? Was she obliged todo it?--Was it a meeting for purposes of crime?--Certainly it was not alover's meeting, for I believe Mademoiselle Stangerson adores MonsieurDarzac.
"All these reflections ran through my brain like a flash of lightning.What would I not give to know!
"It is possible that there was some reason for the awful silence. Myintervention might do more harm than good. How could I tell? How could Iknow I might not any moment cause another crime? If I could only see andknow, without breaking that silence!
"I left the ante-room and descended the central stairs to the vestibuleand, as silently as possible, made my way to the little room on theground-floor where Daddy Jacques had been sleeping since the attack madeat the pavilion.
"I found him dressed, his eyes wide open, almost haggard. He did notseem surprised to see me. He told me that he had got up because hehad heard the cry of the Bete du bon Dieu, and because he had heardfootsteps in the park, close to his window, out of which he had lookedand, just then, had seen a black shadow pass by. I asked him whetherhe had a firearm of any kind. No, he no longer kept one, since theexamining magistrate had taken his revolver from him. We went outtogether, by a little back door, into the park, and stole along thechateau to the point which is just below Mademoiselle Stangerson'swindow.
"I placed Daddy Jacques against the wall, ordering him not to stir fromthe spot, while I, taking advantage of a moment when the moon was hiddenby a cloud, moved to the front of the window, out of the patch of lightwhich came from it,--for the window was half-open! If I could only knowwhat was passing in that silent chamber! I returned to Daddy Jacques andwhispered the word 'ladder' in his ear. At first I had thought of thetree which, a week ago, served me for an observatory; but I immediatelysaw that, from the way the window was half-opened, I should not be ableto see from that point of view anything that was passing in the room;and I wanted, not only to see, but to hear, and--to act.
"Greatly agitated, almost trembling, Daddy Jacques disappeared for amoment and returned without the ladder, but making signs to me with hisarms, as signals to me to come quickly to him. When I got near him hegasped: 'Come!'
"'I went to the donjon in search of my ladder, and in the lower part ofthe donjon which serves me and the gardener for a lumber room, I foundthe door open and the ladder gone. On coming out, that's what I caughtsight of by the light of the moon.
"And he pointed to the further end of the chateau, where a ladder stoodresting against the stone brackets supporting the terrace, underthe window which I had found open. The projection of the terrace hadprevented my seeing it. Thanks to that ladder, it was quite easy to getinto the 'off-turning' gallery of the first floor, and I had no doubt ofit having been the road taken by the unknown.
"We ran to the ladder, but at the moment of reaching it, Daddy Jacquesdrew my attention to the half-open door of the little semi-circularroom, situated under the terrace, at the extremity of the right wing ofthe chateau, having the terrace for its roof. Daddy Jacques pushed thedoor open a little further and looked in.
/>
"'He's not there!" he whispered.
"Who is not there?"
"The forest--keeper."
With his lips once more to my ear, he added:
"'Do you know that he has slept in the upper room of the donjon eversince it was restored?' And with the same gesture he pointed tothe half-open door, the ladder, the terrace, and the windows in the'off-turning' gallery which, a little while before, I had re-closed.
"What were my thoughts then? I had no time to think. I felt more than Ithought.
"Evidently, I felt, if the forest-keeper is up there in the chamber (Isay, if, because at this moment, apart from the presence of the ladderand his vacant room, there are no evidences which permit me even tosuspect him)--if he is there, he has been obliged to pass by the ladder,and the rooms which lie behind his, in his new lodging, are occupied bythe family of the steward and by the cook, and by the kitchens, whichbar the way by the vestibule to the interior of the chateau. And if hehad been there during the evening on any pretext, it would have beeneasy for him to go into the gallery and see that the window could besimply pushed open from the outside. This question of the unfastenedwindow easily narrowed the field of search for the murderer. He mustbelong to the house, unless he had an accomplice, which I do not believehe had; unless--unless Mademoiselle Stangerson herself had seen thatthat window was not fastened from the inside. But, then,--what couldbe the frightful secret which put her under the necessity of doing awaywith obstacles that separated her from the murderer?
"I seized hold of the ladder, and we returned to the back of the chateauto see if the window of the chamber was still half-open. The blind wasdrawn but did not join and allowed a bright stream of light to escapeand fall upon the path at our feet. I planted the ladder under thewindow. I am almost sure that I made no noise; and while Daddy Jacquesremained at the foot of the ladder, I mounted it, very quietly, my stoutstick in my hand. I held my breath and lifted my feet with the greatestcare. Suddenly a heavy cloud discharged itself at that moment in a freshdownpour of rain.
"At the same instant the sinister cry of the Bete du bon Dieu arrestedme in my ascent. It seemed to me to have come from close by me--only afew yards away. Was the cry a signal?--Had some accomplice of theman seen me on the ladder!--Would the cry bring the man to thewindow?--Perhaps! Ah, there he was at the window! I felt his head aboveme. I heard the sound of his breath! I could not look up towards him;the least movement of my head, and--I might be lost. Would he seeme?--Would he peer into the darkness? No; he went away. He had seennothing. I felt, rather than heard, him moving on tip-toe in the room;and I mounted a few steps higher. My head reached to the level of thewindow-sill; my forehead rose above it; my eyes looked betweenthe opening in the blinds--and I saw--A man seated at MademoiselleStangerson's little desk, writing. His back was turned toward me. Acandle was lit before him, and he bent over the flame, the light fromit projecting shapeless shadows. I saw nothing but a monstrous, stoopingback.
"Mademoiselle Stangerson herself was not there!--Her bed had not beenlain on! Where, then, was she sleeping that night? Doubtless in theside-room with her women. Perhaps this was but a guess. I must contentmyself with the joy of finding the man alone. I must be calm to preparemy trap.
"But who, then, is this man writing there before my eyes, seated at thedesk, as if he were in his own home? If there had not been that ladderunder the window; if there had not been those footprints on the carpetin the gallery; if there had not been that open window, I might havebeen led to think that this man had a right to be there, and that he wasthere as a matter of course and for reasons about which as yet I knewnothing. But there was no doubt that this mysterious unknown was theman of The Yellow Room,--the man to whose murderous assault MademoiselleStangerson--without denouncing him--had had to submit. If I could butsee his face! Surprise and capture him!
"If I spring into the room at this moment, he will escape by theright-hand door opening into the boudoir,--or crossing the drawing-room,he will reach the gallery and I shall lose him. I have him now and infive minutes more he'll be safer than if I had him in a cage.--What ishe doing there, alone in Mademoiselle Stangerson's room?--What is hewriting? I descend and place the ladder on the ground. Daddy Jacquesfollows me. We re-enter the chateau. I send Daddy Jacques to wakeMonsieur Stangerson, and instruct him to await my coming in MademoiselleStangerson's room and to say nothing definite to him before my arrival.I will go and awaken Frederic Larsan. It's a bore to have to do it, forI should have liked to work alone and to have carried off all thehonors of this affair myself, right under the very nose of the sleepingdetective. But Daddy Jacques and Monsieur Stangerson are old men, and Iam not yet fully developed. I might not be strong enough. Larsan is usedto wrestling and putting on the handcuffs. He opened his eyes swollenwith sleep, ready to send me flying, without in the least believing inmy reporter's fancies. I had to assure him that the man was there!
"'That's strange!' he said; 'I thought I left him this afternoon inParis.'
"He dressed himself in haste and armed himself with a revolver. We stolequietly into the gallery.
"'Where is he?' Larsan asked.
"'In Mademoiselle Stangerson's room.
"'And--Mademoiselle Stangerson?'
"'She is not in there.'
"'Let's go in.'
"'Don't go there! On the least alarm the man will escape. He has fourways by which to do it--the door, the window, the boudoir, or the roomin which the women are sleeping.'
"'I'll draw him from below.'
"'And if you fail?--If you only succeed in wounding him--he'll escapeagain, without reckoning that he is certainly armed. No, let me directthe expedition, and I'll answer for everything.'
"'As you like,' he replied, with fairly good grace.
"Then, after satisfying myself that all the windows of the two gallerieswere thoroughly secure, I placed Frederic Larsan at the end of the'off-turning' gallery, before the window which I had found open and hadreclosed.
"'Under no consideration,' I said to him, 'must you stir from this posttill I call you. The chances are even that the man, when he is pursued,will return to this window and try to save himself that way; for it isby that way he came in and made a way ready for his flight. You have adangerous post.'
"'What will be yours?' asked Fred.
"'I shall spring into the room and knock him over for you.'
"'Take my revolver,' said Fred, 'and I'll take your stick.'
"'Thanks,' I said; 'You are a brave man.'
"I accepted his offer. I was going to be alone with the man in the roomwriting and was really thankful to have the weapon.
"I left Fred, having posted him at the window (No. 5 on the plan),and, with the greatest precaution, went towards Monsieur Stangerson'sapartment in the left wing of the chateau. I found him with DaddyJacques, who had faithfully obeyed my directions, confining himselfto asking his master to dress as quickly as possible. In a few words Iexplained to Monsieur Stangerson what was passing. He armed himself witha revolver, followed me, and we were all three speedily in the gallery.Since I had seen the murderer seated at the desk ten minutes hadelapsed. Monsieur Stangerson wished to spring upon the assassin at onceand kill him. I made him understand that, above all, he must not, in hisdesire to kill him, miss him.
"When I had sworn to him that his daughter was not in the room, andin no danger, he conquered his impatience and left me to direct theoperations. I told them that they must come to me the moment I calledto them, or when I fired my revolver. I then sent Daddy Jacques to placehimself before the window at the end of the 'right' gallery. (No. 2 onmy plan.) I chose that position 'for Daddy Jacques because I believedthat the murderer, tracked, on leaving the room, would run through thegallery towards the window which he had left open, and, instantly seeingthat it was guarded by Larsan, would pursue his course along the 'right'gallery. There he would encounter Daddy Jacques, who would prevent hisspringing out of the window into the park. Under that window there wasa sort of buttress, while a
ll the other windows in the galleries were atsuch a height from the ground that it was almost impossible to jump fromthem without breaking one's neck. All the doors and windows, includingthose of the lumber-room at the end of the 'right' gallery--as I hadrapidly assured myself--were strongly secured.
"Having indicated to Daddy Jacques the post he was to occupy, and havingseen him take up his position, I placed Monsieur Stangerson onthe landing at the head of the stairs not far from the door of hisdaughter's ante-room, rather than the boudoir, where the women were,and the door of which must have been locked by Mademoiselle Stangersonherself if, as I thought, she had taken refuge in the boudoir for thepurpose of avoiding the murderer who was coming to see her. In any case,he must return to the gallery where my people were awaiting him at everypossible exit.
"On coming there, he would see on his left, Monsieur Stangerson; hewould turn to the right, towards the 'off-turning' gallery--the wayhe had pre-arranged for flight, where, at the intersection of the twogalleries, he would see at once, as I have explained, on his left,Frederic Larsan at the end of the 'off-turning' gallery, and in front,Daddy Jacques, at the end of the 'right' gallery. Monsieur Stangersonand myself would arrive by way of the back of the chateau.--He isours!--He can no longer escape us! I was sure of that.
"The plan I had formed seemed to me the best, the surest, and the mostsimple. It would, no doubt, have been simpler still, if we had been ableto place some one directly behind the door of Mademoiselle's boudoir,which opened out of her bedchamber, and, in that way, had been in aposition to besiege the two doors of the room in which the man was. Butwe could not penetrate the boudoir except by way of the drawing-room,the door of which had been locked on the inside by MademoiselleStangerson. But even if I had had the free disposition of the boudoir,I should have held to the plan I had formed; because any other plan ofattack would have separated us at the moment of the struggle with theman, while my plan united us all for the attack, at a spot which I hadselected with almost mathematical precision,--the intersection of thetwo galleries.
"Having so placed my people, I again left the chateau, hurried to myladder, and, replacing it, climbed up, revolver in hand.
"If there be any inclined to smile at my taking so many precautionarymeasures, I refer them to the mystery of The Yellow Room, and to all theproofs we have of the weird cunning of the murderer. Further, if therebe some who think my observations needlessly minute at a moment whenthey ought to be completely held by rapidity of movement and decisionof action, I reply that I have wished to report here, at length andcompletely, all the details of a plan of attack conceived so rapidlythat it is only the slowness of my pen that gives an appearanceof slowness to the execution. I have wished, by this slowness andprecision, to be certain that nothing should be omitted from theconditions under which the strange phenomenon was produced, which, untilsome natural explanation of it is forthcoming, seems to me to prove,even better than the theories of Professor Stangerson, the Dissociationof Matter--I will even say, the instantaneous Dissociation of Matter."
Le mystère de la chambre jaune. English Page 16
