Le dossier no. 113. English

by Emile Gaboriau

  XX

  Clameran's last injunction to Raoul was:

  "Be very cautious when you enter the room; your appearance must telleverything, so you can avoid preliminary explanations."

  The recommendation was useless.

  The instant that Raoul went into the little salon, the sight of hispale, haggard face and wild eyes caused Mme. Fauvel to spring up withclasped hands, and cry out:

  "Raoul! What has happened? Speak, my son!"

  The sound of her tender, affectionate voice acted like an electric shockupon the young bandit. He shook like a leaf. But at the same time hismind seemed to change. Louis was not mistaken in his estimate of hiscompanion's character. Raoul was on the stage, his part was to beplayed; his assurance returned to him; his cheating, lying natureassumed the ascendant, and stifled any better feeling in his heart.

  "This misfortune is the last I shall ever suffer, mother!"

  Mme. Fauvel rushed toward him, and, seizing his hand, gazed searchinglyinto his eyes, as if to read his very soul.

  "What is the matter? Raoul, my dear son, do tell me what troubles you."

  He gently pushed her from him.

  "The matter is, my mother," he said in a voice of heart-broken despair,"that I am an unworthy, degenerate son! Unworthy of you, unworthy of mynoble father!"

  She tried to comfort him by saying that his errors were all her fault,and that he was, in spite of all, the pride of her heart.

  "Alas!" he said, "I know and judge myself. No one can reproach me formy infamous conduct more bitterly than does my own conscience. I amnot naturally wicked, but only a miserable fool. At times I am like aninsane man, and am not responsible for my actions. Ah, my dear mother,I would not be what I am, if you had watched over my childhood. Butbrought up among strangers, with no guide but my own evil passions,nothing to restrain me, no one to advise me, no one to love me, owningnothing, not even my stolen name, I am cursed with vanity and unboundedambition. Poor, with no one to assist me but you, I have the tastes andvices of a millionnaire's son.

  "Alas for me! When I found you, the evil was done. Your affection, yourmaternal love, the only true happiness of my life, could not save me. I,who had suffered so much, endured so many privations, even the pangs ofhunger, became spoiled by this new life of luxury and pleasure whichyou opened before me. I rushed headlong into extravagance, as a drunkardlong deprived of liquor seizes and drains to the dregs the first bottlein his reach."

  Mme. Fauvel listened, silent and terrified, to these words of despairand remorse, which Raoul uttered with vehemence.

  She dared not interrupt him, but felt certain some dreadful piece ofnews was coming.

  Raoul continued in a sad, hopeless tone:

  "Yes, I have been a weak fool. Happiness was within my reach, and Ihad not the sense to stretch forth my hand and grab it. I rejected aheavenly reality to eagerly pursue a vain phantom. I, who ought to havespent my life at your feet, and daily striven to express my gratitudefor your lavish kindness, have made you unhappy, destroyed your peace ofmind, and, instead of being a blessing, I have been a curse ever sincethe first fatal day you welcomed me to your kind heart. Ah, unfeelingbrute that I was, to squander upon creatures whom I despised, a fortune,of which each gold piece must have cost you a tear! Too late, too late!With you I might have been a good and happy man!"

  He stopped, as if overcome by the conviction of his evil deeds, andseemed about to burst into tears.

  "It is never too late to repent, my son," murmured Mme. Fauvel incomforting tones.

  "Ah, if I only could!" cried Raoul; "but no, it is too late! Besides,can I tell how long my good resolutions will last? This is not the firsttime that I have condemned myself pitilessly. Stinging remorse for eachnew fault made me swear to lead a better life, to sin no more. What wasthe result of these periodical repentances? At the first temptation Iforgot my remorse and good resolutions. I am weak and mean-spirited,and you are not firm enough to govern my vacillating nature. Whilemy intentions are good, my actions are villainous. The disproportionbetween my extravagant desires, and the means of gratifying them, is toogreat for me to endure any longer. Who knows to what fearful lengths myunfortunate disposition may lead me? However, I will take my fate in myown hands!" he finally said with a reckless laugh.

  "Oh, Raoul, my dear son," cried Mme. Fauvel in an agony of terror,"explain these dreadful words; am I not your mother? Tell me whatdistresses you; I am ready to hear the worst."

  He appeared to hesitate, as if afraid to crush his mother's heart by theterrible blow he was about to inflict. Then in a voice of gloomy despairhe replied:

  "I am ruined."

  "Ruined?"

  "Yes, ruined; and I have nothing more to expect or hope for. I amdishonored, and all through my own fault; no one is to be blamed butmyself."

  "Raoul!"

  "It is the sad truth, my poor mother; but fear nothing: I shall nottrail in the dust the name which you bestowed upon me. I will at leasthave the courage not to survive my dishonor. Come, mother, don't pityme, or distress yourself; I am one of those miserable beings fated tofind no peace save in the arms of death. I came into the world withmisfortune stamped upon my brow. Was not my birth a shame and disgraceto you? Did not the memory of my existence haunt you day and night,filling your soul with remorse? And now, when I am restored to you aftermany years' separation, do I not prove to be a bitter curse instead of ablessing?"

  "Ungrateful boy! Have I ever reproached you?"

  "Never! Your poor Raoul will die with your beloved name on his lips;his last words a prayer to Heaven to heap blessings upon your head, andreward your long-suffering devotion."

  "Die? You die, my son!"

  "It must be, my dear mother; honor compels it. I am condemned by judgesfrom whose decision no appeal can be taken--my conscience and my will."

  An hour ago, Mme. Fauvel would have sworn that Raoul had made her sufferall the torments that a woman could endure; but now she felt that allher former troubles were nothing compared with her present agony.

  "My God! Raoul, what have you been doing?"

  "Money was intrusted to me: I gambled and lost it."

  "Was it a large sum?"

  "No; but more than I can replace. My poor mother, have I not takeneverything from you? Did you not give me your last jewel?"

  "But M. de Clameran is rich. He placed his fortune at my disposal. Iwill order the carriage, and go to him."

  "But M. de Clameran is absent, and will not return to Paris until nextweek; and if I do not have the money this evening, I am lost. Alas! Ihave thought deeply, and, although it is hard to die so young, stillfate wills it so."

  He pulled a pistol from his pocket, and, with a forced smile, said:

  "This will settle everything."

  Mme. Fauvel was too excited and frightened to reflect upon the horrorof Raoul's behavior, and that these wild threats were a last resortfor obtaining money. Forgetful of the past, careless of the future, herevery thought concentrated upon the present, she comprehended butone fact: that her son was about to commit suicide, and that she waspowerless to prevent the fearful deed.

  "Oh, wait a little while my son!" she cried. "Andre will soon returnhome, and I will ask him to give me--How much did you lose?"

  "Thirty thousand francs."

  "You shall have them to-morrow."

  "But I must have the money to-night."

  Mme. Fauvel wrung her hands in despair.

  "Oh! why did you not come to me sooner, my son? Why did you not haveconfidence enough in me to come at once for help? This evening! There isno one in the house to open the money-safe; if it were not for that--ifyou had only come before Andre went out--"

  "The safe!" cried Raoul, with sudden joy, as if this magic word hadthrown a ray of light upon his dark despair; "do you know where the keyis kept?"

  "Yes: it is in the next room."

  "Well!" he exclaimed, with a bold look that caused Mme. Fauvel to lowerher eyes, and keep silent.

  "Giv
e me the key, mother," he said in a tone of entreaty.

  "Oh, Raoul, Raoul!"

  "It is my life I am asking of you."

  These words decided her; she snatched up a candle, rushed into herchamber, opened the secretary, and took out M. Fauvel's key.

  But, when about to hand it to Raoul, she seemed to suddenly see theenormity of what she was doing.

  "Oh, Raoul! my son," she murmured, "I cannot! Do not ask me to commitsuch a dreadful deed!"

  He said nothing, but sadly turned to leave the room; then coming back tohis mother said:

  "Ah, well; it makes but little difference in the end! At least, you willgive me one last kiss, before we part forever, my darling mother!"

  "What could you do with the key, Raoul?" interrupted Mme. Fauvel. "Youdo not know the secret word of the buttons."

  "No; but I can try to open it without moving the buttons."

  "You know that money is never kept in the safe over-night."

  "Nevertheless, I can make the attempt. If I open the safe, and findmoney in it, it will be a miracle, showing that Heaven has pitied mymisfortune, and provided relief."

  "And if you are not successful, will you promise me to wait untilto-morrow, to do nothing rash to-night?"

  "I swear it, by my father's memory."

  "Then take the key and follow me."

  Pale and trembling, Raoul and Mme. Fauvel passed through the banker'sstudy, and down the narrow staircase leading to the offices andcash-room below.

  Raoul walked in front, holding the light, and the key of the safe.

  Mme. Fauvel was convinced that it would be utterly impossible to openthe safe, as the key was useless without the secret word, and of courseRaoul had no way of discovering what that was.

  Even granting that some chance had revealed the secret to him, he wouldfind but little in the safe, since everything was deposited in the Bankof France. Everyone knew that no large sum was ever kept in the safeafter banking hours.

  The only anxiety she felt was, how Raoul would bear the disappointment,and how she could calm his despair.

  She thought that she would gain time by letting Raoul try the key; andthen, when he could not open the safe, he would keep his promise, andwait until the next day. There was surely no harm in letting him try thelock, when he could not touch the money.

  "When he sees there is no chance of success," she thought, "he willlisten to my entreaties; and to-morrow--to-morrow----"

  What she could do to-morrow she knew not, she did not even ask herself.But in extreme situations the least delay inspires hope, as if a shortrespite meant sure salvation.

  The condemned man, at the last moment, begs for a reprieve of a day, anhour, a few seconds. Raoul was about to kill himself: his mother prayedto God to grant her one day, not even a day, one night; as if in thisspace of time some unexpected relief would come to end her misery.

  They reached Prosper's office, and Raoul placed the light on a highstool so that it lighted the whole room.

  He then summoned up all his coolness, or rather that mechanicalprecision of movement, almost independent of will, of which menaccustomed to peril avail themselves in time of need.

  Rapidly, with the dexterity of experience, he slipped the buttons on thefive letters composing the name of G, y, p, s, y.

  His features, during this short operation, expressed the most intenseanxiety. He was fearful that his nervous energy might give out; of notbeing able to open the safe; of not finding the money there whenhe opened it; of Prosper having changed the word; or perhaps havingneglected to leave the money in the safe.

  Mme. Fauvel saw these visible apprehensions with alarm. She read in hiseyes that wild hope of a man who, passionately desiring an object,ends by persuading himself that his own will suffices to overcome allobstacles.

  Having often been present when Prosper was preparing to leave hisoffice, Raoul had fifty times seen him move the buttons, and lock thesafe, just before leaving the bank. Indeed, having a practical turnof mind, and an eye to the future, he had even tried to lock the safehimself on several occasions, while waiting for Prosper.

  He inserted the key softly, turned it around, pushed it farther in,and turned it a second time; then thrust it in suddenly, and turned itagain. His heart beat so loudly that Mme. Fauvel could hear its throbs.

  The word had not been changed; the safe opened.

  Raoul and his mother simultaneously uttered a cry; she of terror, he oftriumph.

  "Shut it again!" cried Mme. Fauvel, frightened at the incomprehensibleresult of Raoul's attempt: "Come away! Don't touch anything, forHeaven's sake! Raoul!"

  And, half frenzied, she clung to Raoul's arm, and pulled him away soabruptly, that the key was dragged from the lock, and, slipping alongthe glossy varnish of the safe-door, made a deep scratch some incheslong.

  But at a glance Raoul discovered, on the upper shelf of the safe, threebundles of bank-notes. He snatched them up with his left hand, andslipped them inside his vest.

  Exhausted by the effort she had just made, Mme. Fauvel dropped Raoul'sarm, and, almost fainting with emotion, clung to the back of a chair.

  "Have mercy, Raoul!" she moaned. "I implore you to put back that moneyand I solemnly swear that I will give you twice as much to-morrow. Oh,my son, have pity upon your unhappy mother!"

  He paid no attention to these words of entreaty, but carefully examinedthe scratch on the safe. He was alarmed at this trace of the robbery,which it was impossible for him to cover up.

  "At least you will not take all," said Mme. Fauvel; "just keep enough tosave yourself, and put back the rest."

  "What good would that do? The discovery will be made that the safe hasbeen opened; so I might as well take all as a part."

  "Oh, no! not at all. I can account to Andre; I will tell him I had apressing need for a certain sum, and opened the safe to get it."

  In the meantime Raoul had carefully closed the safe.

  "Come, mother, let us go back to the sitting-room. A servant might gothere to look for you, and be astonished at our absence."

  Raoul's cruel indifference and cold calculations at such a moment filledMme. Fauvel with indignation. She saw that she had no influence over herson, that her prayers and tears had no effect upon his hard heart.

  "Let them be astonished," she cried: "let them come here and find us! Iwill be relieved to put an end to this tissue of crime. Then Andre willknow all, and drive me from his house. Let come what will, I shallnot sacrifice another victim. Prosper will be accused of this theftto-morrow. Clameran defrauded him of the woman he loved, and now youwould deprive him of his honor! I will have nothing to do with so base acrime."

  She spoke so loud and angrily that Raoul was alarmed. He knew that theerrand-boy slept in a room close by, and might be in bed listening toher, although it was early in the evening.

  "Come upstairs!" he said, seizing Mme. Fauvel's arm.

  But she clung to a table and refused to move a step.

  "I have been cowardly enough to sacrifice Madeleine," she said, "but Iwill not ruin Prosper."

  Raoul had an argument in reserve which he knew would make Mme. Fauvelsubmit to his will.

  "Now, really," he said with a cynical laugh, "do you pretend that you donot know Prosper and I arranged this little affair together, and that heis to have half the booty?"

  "Impossible! I never will believe such a thing of Prosper!"

  "Why, how do you suppose I discovered the secret word? Who do yousuppose disobeyed orders, and left the money in the safe?"

  "Prosper is honest."

  "Of course he is, and so am I too. The only thing is, that we both needmoney."

  "You are telling a falsehood, Raoul!"

  "Upon my soul, I am not. Madeleine rejected Prosper, and the poor fellowhas to console himself for her cruelty; and these sorts of consolationsare expensive, my good mother."

  He took up the candle, and gently but firmly led Mme. Fauvel toward thestaircase.

  She mechanically suffered h
erself to be led along, more bewildered bywhat she had just heard than she was at the opening of the safe-door.

  "What!" she gasped, "can Prosper be a thief?"

  She began to think herself the victim of a terrible nightmare, and that,when she waked, her mind would be relieved of this intolerable torture.She helplessly clung to Raoul's arm as he helped her up the narrowlittle staircase.

  "You must put the key back in the secretary," said Raoul, as soon asthey were in the chamber again.

  But she did not seem to hear him; so he went and replaced the safe-keyin the place from which he had seen her take it.

  He then led, or rather carried, Mme. Fauvel into the littlesitting-room, and placed her in an easy-chair.

  The set, expressionless look of the wretched woman's eyes, and her dazedmanner, frightened Raoul, who thought that she had lost her mind, thather reason had finally given way beneath this last terrible shock.

  "Come, cheer up, my dear mother," he said in coaxing tones as he rubbedher icy hands; "you have saved my life, and rendered an immense serviceto Prosper. Don't be alarmed; everything will come out right in theend. Prosper will be accused, perhaps arrested; he expects that, and isprepared for it; he will deny his culpability; and, as there is no proofagainst him, he will be set at liberty immediately."

  But these falsehoods were wasted on Mme. Fauvel, who was incapable ofunderstanding anything said to her.

  "Raoul," she moaned in a broken-hearted tone, "Raoul, my son, you havekilled me."

  Her gentle voice, kind even in its despairing accents, touched the verybottom of Raoul's perverted heart, and once more his soul was wrungby remorse; so that he felt inclined to put back the stolen money, andcomfort the despairing woman whose life and reason he was destroying.The thought of Clameran restrained him.

  Finding his efforts to restore Mme. Fauvel fruitless, that, in spiteof all his affectionate regrets and promises, she still sat silent,motionless, and death-like; and fearing that M. Fauvel or Madeleinemight enter at any moment, and demand an explanation, he hastily presseda kiss upon his mother's brow, and hurried from the house.

  At the restaurant, in the room where they had dined, Clameran, torturedby anxiety, awaited his accomplice.

  He wondered if at the last moment, when he was not near to sustain him,Raoul would prove a coward, and retreat; if any unforeseen trifle hadprevented his finding the key; if any visitors were there; and, if so,would they depart before M. Fauvel's return from the dinner-party?

  He had worked himself into such a state of excitement, that, when Raoulreturned, he flew to him with ashy face and trembling all over, andcould scarcely gasp out:

  "Well?"

  "The deed is done, uncle, thanks to you; and I am now the mostmiserable, abject villain on the face of the earth."

  He unbuttoned his vest, and, pulling out the four bundles of bank-notes,angrily dashed them upon the table, saying, in a tone of scorn anddisgust:

  "Now I hope you are satisfied. This is the price of the happiness,honor, and perhaps the life of three people."

  Clameran paid no attention to these angry words. With feverish eagernesshe seized the notes, and rattled them in his hand as if to convincehimself of the reality of success.

  "Now Madeleine is mine!" he cried excitedly.

  Raoul looked at Clameran in silent disgust. This exhibition of joy wasa shocking contrast to the scene in which he had just been an actor. Hewas humiliated at being the tool of such a heartless scoundrel as he nowknew Clameran to be.

  Louis misinterpreted this silence, and said gayly:

  "Did you have much difficulty?"

  "I forbid you ever to allude to this evening's work," cried Raoulfiercely. "Do you hear me? I wish to forget it."

  Clameran shrugged his shoulders at this outburst of anger, and said in abantering tone:

  "Just as you please, my handsome nephew: I rather think you will wantto remember it though, when I offer you these three hundred and fiftythousand francs. You will not, I am sure, refuse to accept them as aslight souvenir. Take them: they are yours."

  This generosity seemed neither to surprise nor satisfy Raoul.

  "According to our agreement," he said sullenly, "I was to have more thanthis."

  "Of course: this is only part of your share."

  "And when am I to have the rest, if you please?"

  "The day I marry Madeleine, and not before, my boy. You are too valuablean assistant to lose at present; and you know that, though I don'tmistrust you, I am not altogether sure of your sincere affection forme."

  Raoul reflected that to commit a crime, and not profit by it, would bethe height of absurdity. He had come with the intention of breaking offall connection with Clameran; but he now determined that he would notabandon his accomplice until he had been well paid for his services.

  "Very well," he said, "I accept this on account; but remember, I willnever do another piece of work like this to-night. You can do what youplease; I shall flatly refuse."

  Clameran burst into a loud laugh, and said:

  "That is sensible: now that you are rich, you can afford to be honest.Set your conscience at rest, for I promise you I will require nothingmore of you save a few trifling services. You can retire behind thescenes now, while I appear upon the stage; my role begins."