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Le mystère de la chambre jaune. English, Page 22

Gaston Leroux


  CHAPTER XXI. On the Watch

  The act, which staggered me, did not appear to affect Rouletabille much.We returned to his room and, without even referring to what we had seen,he gave me his final instructions for the night. First we were to go todinner; after dinner, I was to take my stand in the dark closet and waitthere as long as it was necessary--to look out for what might happen.

  "If you see anything before I do," he explained, "you must let me know.If the man gets into the 'right' gallery by any other way than the'off-turning' gallery, you will see him before I shall, because you havea view along the whole length of the 'right' gallery, while I can onlycommand a view of the 'off-turning' gallery. All you need do to letme know is to undo the cord holding the curtain of the 'right' gallerywindow, nearest to the dark closet. The curtain will fall of itself andimmediately leave a square of shadow where previously there had been asquare of light. To do this, you need but stretch your hand out of thecloset, I shall understand your signal perfectly."

  "And then?"

  "Then you will see me coming round the corner of the 'off-turning'gallery."

  "What am I to do then?"

  "You will immediately come towards me, behind the man; but I shallalready be upon him, and shall have seen his face."

  I attempted a feeble smile.

  "Why do you smile? Well, you may smile while you have the chance, but Iswear you'll have no time for that a few hours from now.

  "And if the man escapes?"

  "So much the better," said Rouletabille, coolly, "I don't want tocapture him. He may take himself off any way he can. I will lethim go--after I have seen his face. That's all I want. I shall knowafterwards what to do so that as far as Mademoiselle Stangerson isconcerned he shall be dead to her even though he continues to live. IfI took him alive, Mademoiselle Stangerson and Robert Darzac would,perhaps, never forgive me! And I wish to retain their good-will andrespect.

  "Seeing, as I have just now seen, Mademoiselle Stangerson pour anarcotic into her father's glass, so that he might not be awake tointerrupt the conversation she is going to have with her murderer, youcan imagine she would not be grateful to me if I brought the man ofThe Yellow Room and the inexplicable gallery, bound and gagged, to herfather. I realise now that if I am to save the unhappy lady, I mustsilence the man and not capture him. To kill a human being is no smallthing. Besides, that's not my business, unless the man himself makes itmy business. On the other hand, to render him forever silent withoutthe lady's assent and confidence is to act on one's own initiative andassumes a knowledge of everything with nothing for a basis. Fortunately,my friend, I have guessed, no, I have reasoned it all out. All that Iask of the man who is coming to-night is to bring me his face, so thatit may enter--"

  "Into the circle?"

  "Exactly! And his face won't surprise me!"

  "But I thought you saw his face on the night when you sprang into thechamber?"

  "Only imperfectly. The candle was on the floor; and, his beard--"

  "Will he wear his beard this evening?"

  "I think I can say for certain that he will. But the gallery is lightand, now, I know--or--at least, my brain knows--and my eyes will see."

  "If we are here only to see him and let him escape, why are we armed?"

  "Because, if the man of The Yellow Room and the inexplicable galleryknows that I know, he is capable of doing anything! We should then haveto defend ourselves."

  "And you are sure he will come to-night?"

  "As sure as that you are standing there! This morning, at half-past teno'clock, Mademoiselle Stangerson, in the cleverest way in the world,arranged to have no nurses to-night. She gave them leave of absence fortwenty-four hours, under some plausible pretexts, and did not desireanybody to be with her but her father, while they are away. Her father,who is to sleep in the boudoir, has gladly consented to the arrangement.Darzac's departure and what he told me, as well as the extraordinaryprecautions Mademoiselle Stangerson is taking to be alone to-nightleaves me no room for doubt. She has prepared the way for the coming ofthe man whom Darzac dreads."

  "That's awful!"

  "It is!"

  "And what we saw her do was done to send her father to sleep?"

  "Yes."

  "Then there are but two of us for to-night's work?"

  "Four; the concierge and his wife will watch at all hazards. I don'tset much value on them before--but the concierge may be useful after--ifthere's to be any killing!"

  "Then you think there may be?"

  "If he wishes it."

  "Why haven't you brought in Daddy Jacques?--Have you made no use of himto-day?"

  "No," replied Rouletabille sharply.

  I kept silence for awhile, then, anxious to know his thoughts, I askedhim point blank:

  "Why not tell Arthur Rance?--He may be of great assistance to us?"

  "Oh!" said Rouletabille crossly, "then you want to let everybody intoMademoiselle Stangerson's secrets?--Come, let us go to dinner; it istime. This evening we dine in Frederic Larsan's room,--at least, ifhe is not on the heels of Darzac. He sticks to him like a leech. But,anyhow, if he is not there now, I am quite sure he will be, to-night!He's the one I am going to knock over!"

  At this moment we heard a noise in the room near us.

  "It must be he," said Rouletabille.

  "I forgot to ask you," I said, "if we are to make any allusion toto-night's business when we are with this policeman. I take it we arenot. Is that so?"

  "Evidently. We are going to operate alone, on our own personal account."

  "So that all the glory will be ours?"

  Rouletabille laughed.

  We dined with Frederic Larsan in his room. He told us he had just comein and invited us to be seated at table. We ate our dinner in the bestof humours, and I had no difficulty in appreciating the feelings ofcertainty which both Rouletabille and Larsan felt. Rouletabille told thegreat Fred that I had come on a chance visit, and that he had asked meto stay and help him in the heavy batch of writing he had to get throughfor the "Epoque." I was going back to Paris, he said, by the eleveno'clock train, taking his "copy," which took a story form, recountingthe principal episodes in the mysteries of the Glandier. Larsan smiledat the explanation like a man who was not fooled and politely refrainsfrom making the slightest remark on matters which did not concern him.

  With infinite precautions as to the words they used, and even as to thetones of their voices, Larsan and Rouletabille discussed, for a longtime, Mr. Arthur Rance's appearance at the chateau, and his past inAmerica, about which they expressed a desire to know more, at any rate,so far as his relations with the Stangersons. At one time, Larsan, whoappeared to me to be unwell, said, with an effort:

  "I think, Monsieur Rouletabille, that we've not much more to do at theGlandier, and that we sha'n't sleep here many more nights."

  "I think so, too, Monsieur Fred."

  "Then you think the conclusion of the matter has been reached?"

  "I think, indeed, that we have nothing more to find out," repliedRouletabille.

  "Have you found your criminal?" asked Larsan.

  "Have you?"

  "Yes."

  "So have I," said Rouletabille.

  "Can it be the same man?"

  "I don't know if you have swerved from your original idea," said theyoung reporter. Then he added, with emphasis: "Monsieur Darzac is anhonest man!"

  "Are you sure of that?" asked Larsan. "Well, I am sure he is not. Soit's a fight then?"

  "Yes, it is a fight. But I shall beat you, Monsieur Frederic Larsan."

  "Youth never doubts anything," said the great Fred laughingly, and heldout his hand to me by way of conclusion.

  Rouletabille's answer came like an echo:

  "Not anything!"

  Suddenly Larsan, who had risen to wish us goodnight, pressed both hishands to his chest and staggered. He was obliged to lean on Rouletabillefor support, and to save himself from falling.

  "Oh! Oh!" he cried. "What is the matt
er with me?--Have I been poisoned?"

  He looked at us with haggard eyes. We questioned him vainly; he did notanswer us. He had sunk into an armchair and we could get not a word fromhim. We were extremely distressed, both on his account and on our own,for we had partaken of all the dishes he had eaten. He seemed to be outof pain; but his heavy head had fallen on his shoulder and his eyelidswere tightly closed. Rouletabille bent over him, listening for thebeatings of the heart.

  My friend's face, however, when he stood up, was as calm as it had beena moment before agitated.

  "He is asleep," he said.

  He led me to his chamber, after closing Larsan's room.

  "The drug?" I asked. "Does Mademoiselle Stangerson wish to put everybodyto sleep, to-night?"

  "Perhaps," replied Rouletabille; but I could see he was thinking ofsomething else.

  "But what about us?" I exclaimed. "How do we know that we have not beendrugged?"

  "Do you feel indisposed?" Rouletabille asked me coolly.

  "Not in the least."

  "Do you feel any inclination to go to sleep?"

  "None whatever."

  "Well, then, my friend, smoke this excellent cigar."

  And he handed me a choice Havana, one Monsieur Darzac had given him,while he lit his briarwood--his eternal briarwood.

  We remained in his room until about ten o'clock without a word passingbetween us. Buried in an armchair Rouletabille sat and smoked steadily,his brow in thought and a far-away look in his eyes. On the stroke often he took off his boots and signalled to me to do the same. As westood in our socks he said, in so low a tone that I guessed, rather thanheard, the word:

  "Revolver."

  I drew my revolver from my jacket pocket.

  "Cock it!" he said.

  I did as he directed.

  Then moving towards the door of his room, he opened it with infiniteprecaution; it made no sound. We were in the "off-turning" gallery.Rouletabille made another sign to me which I understood to mean that Iwas to take up my post in the dark closet.

  When I was some distance from him, he rejoined me and embraced me; andthen I saw him, with the same precaution, return to his room. Astonishedby his embrace, and somewhat disquieted by it, I arrived at the rightgallery without difficulty, crossing the landing-place, and reaching thedark closet.

  Before entering it I examined the curtain-cord of the window and foundthat I had only to release it from its fastening with my fingers forthe curtain to fall by its own weight and hide the square of light fromRouletabille--the signal agreed upon. The sound of a footstep made mehalt before Arthur Rance's door. He was not yet in bed, then! How wasit that, being in the chateau, he had not dined with Monsieur Stangersonand his daughter? I had not seen him at table with them, at the momentwhen we looked in.

  I retired into the dark closet. I found myself perfectly situated. Icould see along the whole length of the gallery. Nothing, absolutelynothing could pass there without my seeing it. But what was going topass there? Rouletabille's embrace came back to my mind. I argued thatpeople don't part from each, other in that way unless on an important ordangerous occasion. Was I then in danger?

  My hand closed on the butt of my revolver and I waited. I am not a hero;but neither am I a coward.

  I waited about an hour, and during all that time I saw nothing unusual.The rain, which had begun to come down strongly towards nine o'clock,had now ceased.

  My friend had told me that, probably, nothing would occur beforemidnight or one o'clock in the morning. It was not more than half-pasteleven, however, when I heard the door of Arthur Rance's room open veryslowly. The door remained open for a minute, which seemed to me a longtime. As it opened into the gallery, that is to say, outwards, I couldnot see what was passing in the room behind the door.

  At that moment I noticed a strange sound, three times repeated, comingfrom the park. Ordinarily I should not have attached any more importanceto it than I would to the noise of cats on the roof. But the third time,the mew was so sharp and penetrating that I remembered what I had heardabout the cry of the Bete du bon Dieu. As the cry had accompanied allthe events at the Glandier, I could not refrain from shuddering at thethought.

  Directly afterwards I saw a man appear on the outside of the door, andclose it after him. At first I could not recognise him, for his back wastowards me and he was bending over a rather bulky package. When he hadclosed the door and picked up the package, he turned towards the darkcloset, and then I saw who he was. He was the forest-keeper, the GreenMan. He was wearing the same costume that he had worn when I first sawhim on the road in front of the Donjon Inn. There was no doubt about hisbeing the keeper. As the cry of the Bete du Bon Dieu came for the thirdtime, he put down the package and went to the second window, countingfrom the dark closet. I dared not risk making any movement, fearing Imight betray my presence.

  Arriving at the window, he peered out on to the park. The night wasnow light, the moon showing at intervals. The Green Man raised hisarms twice, making signs which I did not understand; then, leaving thewindow, he again took up his package and moved along the gallery towardsthe landing-place.

  Rouletabille had instructed me to undo the curtain-cord when I sawanything. Was Rouletabille expecting this? It was not my businessto question. All I had to do was obey instructions. I unfastened thewindow-cord; my heart beating the while as if it would burst. The manreached the landing-place, but, to my utter surprise--I had expected tosee him continue to pass along the gallery--I saw him descend the stairsleading to the vestibule.

  What was I to do? I looked stupidly at the heavy curtain which had shutthe light from the window. The signal had been given, and I did not seeRouletabille appear at the corner of the off-turning gallery. Nobodyappeared. I was exceedingly perplexed. Half an hour passed, an age tome. What was I to do now, even if I saw something? The signal once givenI could not give it a second time. To venture into the gallery mightupset all Rouletabille's plans. After all, I had nothing to reproachmyself for, and if something had happened that my friend had notexpected he could only blame himself. Unable to be of any furtherassistance to him by means of a signal, I left the dark closet and,still in my socks, made my way to the "off-turning" gallery.

  There was no one there. I went to the door of Rouletabille's room andlistened. I could hear nothing. I knocked gently. There was no answer. Iturned the door-handle and the door opened. I entered. Rouletabille layextended at full length on the floor.