CLASSIC MYSTERIES - The Émile Gaboriau Edition (Detective Novels & Murder Cases) - Emile Gaboriau

Скачать книгу

will succeed if you follow my instructions,” said Louis. “To-morrow or next day, you will receive a letter from your cousin at St. Remy, telling you that she has sent her son to Paris on a visit, and begs you to receive and watch over him. Naturally you show this letter to your husband; and a few days afterward he warmly welcomes your nephew, Raoul de Lagors, a handsome, rich, attractive young man, who does everything he can to please you both.”

      “Monsieur,” replied Mme. Fauvel, “my cousin is a pious, honorable woman, and nothing would induce her to countenance so shameful a transaction.”

      The marquis smiled scornfully, and said:

      “Who told you that I intended to confide in her?”

      “But you would be obliged to do so! How else?”

      “You are very simple, madame. The letter which you will receive, and show to your husband, will be dictated by me, and posted at St. Remy by a friend of mine. If I spoke of the obligations under which you have placed your cousin, it was merely to show you that, in case of accident, her own interest would make her serve you. Do you see any obstacle to this plan, madame?”

      Mme. Fauvel’s eyes flashed with indignation.

      “Is my will of no account?” she exclaimed. “You seem to have made your arrangements without consulting me at all.”

      “Excuse me,” said the marquis, with ironical politeness, “but I knew that you would take the same view of the matter as myself. Your good sense would convince you of the necessity of using every possible means of rescuing your child from destruction.”

      “But it is a crime, monsieur, that you propose—an abominable crime! My mind revolts at the very idea of it!”

      This speech seemed to arouse all the bad passions slumbering in Clameran’s bosom; and his pale face had a fiendish expression as he fiercely replied:

      “We had better end this humbuggery, and come to a clear understanding at once. Before you begin to talk about crime, think over your past life. You were not so timid and scrupulous when you gave yourself up to your lover; neither did you hesitate to faithlessly refuse to share his exile, although for your sake he had just jeopardized his life by killing two men. You felt no scruples at abandoning your child in London; although rolling in wealth, you never even inquired if this poor waif had bread to eat. You felt no scruples about marrying M. Fauvel. Did you tell your confiding husband of the lines of shame concealed beneath that orange wreath? Did you hesitate to confirm and strengthen his happy delusion, that his lips had pressed the first kiss upon your brow? No! All these crimes you indulged in; and, when in Gaston’s name I demand reparation, you indignantly refuse. But, mark my words, madame, it is too late! You ruined the father; but you shall save the son, or, by all the saints in heaven, I swear you shall no longer cheat the world of its esteem.”

      “I will obey you, monsieur,” murmured the trembling, frightened woman.

      The following week Raoul, now Raoul de Lagors, was seated at the banker’s dinner-table, between Mme. Fauvel and Madeleine.

      XVII

       Table of Contents

      It was not without the most painful suffering and self-condemnation that Mme. Fauvel submitted to the will of the pitiless Marquis of Clameran.

      She had used every argument and entreaty to soften him; but he merely looked upon her with a triumphant, sneering smile, when she knelt at his feet, implored him to be merciful and spare her the shame and remorse of committing another crime. Spare her this torture, and she would grant anything else he wished, give Raoul all she possessed while alive, and insure him a handsome competency after her death.

      Alas! neither tears nor prayers moved him. Disappointed, and almost desperate, she sought the intercession of her son.

      Raoul was in a state of furious indignation at the sight of his mother’s distress, and hastened to demand an apology from Clameran.

      But he had reckoned without his host. He soon returned with downcast eyes, and moodily angry at his own powerlessness, declaring that safety demanded a complete surrender to the tyrant.

      Now only did the wretched woman fully fathom the abyss into which she was being dragged, and clearly see the labyrinth of crime of which she was becoming the victim.

      And all this suffering was the consequence of a fault, an interview granted to Gaston. Ever since that fatal day she had been vainly struggling against the implacable logic of events. Her life had been spent in trying to overcome the past, and now it had risen to crush her.

      The hardest thing of all to do, the act that most wrung her heart, was showing to her husband the forged letter from St. Remy, and saying that she expected to see her rich young nephew in a day or two. ‘Tis hard to deceive those who trust and love us.

      But words cannot paint the torture she endured on the evening that she introduced Raoul to her family, and saw the honest banker cordially shake hands with this nephew of whom he had never heard before, and affectionately say to him:

      “I am not surprised that a rich young fellow like yourself should prefer Paris to St. Remy, and nothing will give me more pleasure than your visit; for I seldom have an opportunity of welcoming a relative of my dear wife, for whose sake I take an interest in everyone coming from St. Remy.”

      Raoul exerted his utmost to deserve this warm reception.

      If his early education had been neglected, and he lacked those delicate refinements of manner and conversation which home influence imparts, his superior tact concealed these defects.

      He possessed the happy faculty of reading characters, and adapting his conversation to the minds of his listeners.

      Before a week had gone by, he was a favorite with M. Fauvel, intimate with Abel and Lucien, and inseparable from Prosper Bertomy, the cashier, who spent all his evenings with the banker’s family.

      Charmed at the favorable impression made by Raoul, Mme. Fauvel recovered comparative ease of mind, and at times almost congratulated herself upon having obeyed the marquis, as she saw all around her contented and happy. Once more she began to hope that peace had not deserted her, that God had forgiven her.

      Alas! she rejoiced too soon.

      Raoul’s intimacy with his cousins threw him among a set of rich young men, whose extravagance he not only imitated, but surpassed. He daily grew more dissipated and reckless. Gambling, racing, expensive suppers, made money slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

      This proud young man, whose sensitive delicacy not long since made him refuse to accept aught save affection from his mother, now never approached her without demanding large sums of money.

      At first she gave with pleasure, not stopping to count the rolls of notes she would eagerly run to bring him. But as he each time increased his demands, until they finally reached a sum far larger than she could bestow, her eyes were opened to the ruinous effects of her lavish generosity.

      This rich woman, whose magnificent diamonds, elegant toilets, and superb equipages were the admiration and envy of Paris, now suffered the keenest torture. She had no more money to give her son; and what so pains the female heart as being unable to gratify the wishes of a beloved being?

      Her husband never thought of giving her a fixed sum for the year’s expenses, or of asking how she disposed of her money. The day after the wedding he gave her a key to his secretary, and told her, that what was his was hers, to use as she thought best. And, ever since, she had been in the habit of freely taking all the money necessary for keeping up the hospitable, elegant house over which she so gracefully presided; for her own dress, and many charitable purposes that the world never knew of.

      But the fact of her having always been so modest in her personal expenses that her husband used to jestingly say that he was afraid she would end by being a miser; and her judicious, well-regulated management

Скачать книгу