Le mystère de la chambre jaune. English, Page 29

  CHAPTER XXVIII. In Which It Is Proved That One Does Not Always Think ofEverything

  Great excitement prevailed when Rouletabille had finished. Thecourt-room became agitated with the murmurings of suppressed applause.Maitre Henri Robert called for an adjournment of the trial and wassupported in his motion by the public prosecutor himself. The case wasadjourned. The next day Monsieur Robert Darzac was released on bail,while Daddy Jacques received the immediate benefit of a "no cause foraction." Search was everywhere made for Frederic Larsan, but in vain.Monsieur Darzac finally escaped the awful calamity which, at one time,had threatened him. After a visit to Mademoiselle Stangerson, he was ledto hope that she might, by careful nursing, one day recover her reason.

  Rouletabille, naturally, became the "man of the hour." On leaving thePalais de Justice, the crowd bore him aloft in triumph. The press ofthe whole world published his exploits and his photograph. He, whohad interviewed so many illustrious personages, had himself becomeillustrious and was interviewed in his turn. I am glad to say that theenormous success in no way turned his head.

  We left Versailles together, after having dined at "The Dog ThatSmokes." In the train I put a number of questions to him which, duringour meal, had been on the tip of my tongue, but which I had refrainedfrom uttering, knowing he did not like to talk "shop" while eating.

  "My friend," I said, "that Larsan case is wonderful. It is worthy ofyou."

  He begged me to say no more, and humorously pretended an anxiety forme should I give way to silly praise of him because of a personaladmiration for his ability.

  "I'll come to the point, then," I said, not a little nettled. "I amstill in the dark as to your reason for going to America. When youleft the Glandier you had found out, if I rightly understand, all aboutFrederic Larsan; you had discovered the exact way he had attempted themurder?"

  "Quite so. And you," he said, turning the conversation, "did you suspectnothing?"

  "Nothing!"

  "It's incredible!"

  "I don't see how I could have suspected anything. You took great painsto conceal your thoughts from me. Had you already suspected Larsan whenyou sent for me to bring the revolvers?"

  "Yes! I had come to that conclusion through the incident of the'inexplicable gallery.' Larsan's return to Mademoiselle Stangerson'sroom, however, had not then been cleared up by the eye-glasses. Mysuspicions were the outcome of my reasoning only; and the idea of Larsanbeing the murderer seemed so extraordinary that I resolved to wait foractual evidence before venturing to act. Nevertheless, the suspicionworried me, and I sometimes spoke to the detective in a way that oughtto have opened your eyes. I spoke disparagingly of his methods. Butuntil I found the eye-glasses I could but look upon my suspicion of himin the light of an absurd hypothesis only. You can imagine my elationafter I had explained Larsan's movements. I remember well rushing intomy room like a mad-man and crying to you: 'I'll get the better ofthe great Fred. I'll get the better of him in a way that will make asensation!'

  "I was then thinking of Larsan, the murderer. It was that same eveningthat Darzac begged me to watch over Mademoiselle Stangerson. I made noefforts until after we had dined with Larsan, until ten o'clock. He wasright there before me, and I could afford to wait. You ought to havesuspected, because when we were talking of the murderer's arrival, Isaid to you: 'I am quite sure Larsan will be here to-night.'

  "But one important point escaped us both. It was one which ought tohave opened our eyes to Larsan. Do you remember the bamboo cane? I wassurprised to find Larsan had made no use of that evidence against RobertDarzac. Had it not been purchased by a man whose description talliedexactly with that of Darzac? Well, just before I saw him off at thetrain, after the recess during the trial, I asked him why he hadn't usedthe cane evidence. He told me he had never had any intention of doingso; that our discovery of it in the little inn at Epinay had muchembarrassed him. If you will remember, he told us then that the cane hadbeen given him in London. Why did we not immediately say to ourselves:'Fred is lying. He could not have had this cane in London. He was notin London. He bought it in Paris'? Then you found out, on inquiry atCassette's, that the cane had been bought by a person dressed very likeRobert Darzac, though, as we learned later, from Darzac himself, it wasnot he who had made the purchase. Couple this with the fact we alreadyknew, from the letter at the poste restante, that there was actuallya man in Paris who was passing as Robert Darzac, why did we notimmediately fix on Fred himself?

  "Of course, his position at the Surete was against us; but when we sawthe evident eagerness on his part to find convicting evidence againstDarzac, nay, even the passion he displayed in his pursuit of the man,the lie about the cane should have had a new meaning for us. If youask why Larsan bought the cane, if he had no intention of manufacturingevidence against Darzac by means of it, the answer is quite simple. Hehad been wounded in the hand by Mademoiselle Stangerson, so that thecane was useful to enable him to close his hand in carrying it. Youremember I noticed that he always carried it?

  "All these details came back to my mind when I had once fixed on Larsanas the criminal. But they were too late then to be of any use to me. Onthe evening when he pretended to be drugged I looked at his hand and sawa thin silk bandage covering the signs of a slight healing wound. Had wetaken a quicker initiative at the time Larsan told us that lie about thecane, I am certain he would have gone off, to avoid suspicion. All thesame, we worried Larsan or Ballmeyer without our knowing it."

  "But," I interrupted, "if Larsan had no intention of using the cane asevidence against Darzac, why had he made himself up to look like the manwhen he went in to buy it?"

  "He had not specially 'made up' as Darzac to buy the cane; he had comestraight to Cassette's immediately after he had attacked MademoiselleStangerson. His wound was troubling him and, as he was passing along theAvenue de l'Opera, the idea of the cane came to his mind and he acted onit. It was then eight o'clock. And I, who had hit upon the very hour ofthe occurrence of the tragedy, almost convinced that Darzac was not thecriminal, and knowing of the cane, I still never suspected Larsan. Thereare times..."

  "There are times," I said, "when the greatest intellects--..."Rouletabille shut my mouth. I still continued to chide him, but, findinghe did not reply, I saw he was no longer paying any attention to what Iwas saying. I found he was fast asleep.

  CHAPTER XXIX. The Mystery of Mademoiselle Stangerson

  During the days that followed I had several opportunities to questionhim as to his reason for his voyage to America, but I obtained no moreprecise answers than he had given me on the evening of the adjournmentof the trial, when we were on the train for Paris. One day, however, onmy still pressing him, he said:

  "Can't you understand that I had to know Larsan's true personality?"

  "No doubt," I said, "but why did you go to America to find that out?"

  He sat smoking his pipe, and made no further reply. I began to see thatI was touching on the secret that concerned Mademoiselle Stangerson.Rouletabille evidently had found it necessary to go to America to findout what the mysterious tie was that bound her to Larsan by so strangeand terrible a bond. In America he had learned who Larsan was andhad obtained information which closed his mouth. He had been toPhiladelphia.

  And now, what was this mystery which held Mademoiselle Stangerson andMonsieur Robert Darzac in so inexplicable a silence? After so many yearsand the publicity given the case by a curious and shameless press; nowthat Monsieur Stangerson knows all and has forgiven all, all may betold. In every phase of this remarkable story Mademoiselle Stangersonhad always been the sufferer.

  The beginning dates from the time when, as a young girl, she was livingwith her father in Philadelphia. A visitor at the house, a Frenchman,had succeeded by his wit, grace and persistent attention, in gainingher affections. He was said to be rich and had asked her of her father.Monsieur Stangerson, on making inquiries as to Monsieur Jean Roussel,found that the man was a swindler and an adventurer. Jean Roussel wasbut another of the many n
ames under which the notorious Ballmeyer, afugitive from France, tried to hide himself. Monsieur Stangerson did notknow of his identity with Ballmeyer; he learned that the man was simplyundesirable for his daughter. He not only refused to give his consentto the marriage but denied him admission into the house. MathildeStangerson, however, had fallen in love. To her Jean Roussel waseverything that her love painted him. She was indignant at her father'sattitude, and did not conceal her feelings. Her father sent her to staywith an aunt in Cincinnati. There she was joined by Jean Roussel and, inspite of the reverence she felt for her father, ran away with him to getmarried.

  They went to Louisville and lived there for some time. One morning,however, a knock came at the door of the house in which they were andthe police entered to arrest Jean Roussel. It was then that MathildeStangerson, or Roussel, learned that her husband was no other than thenotorious Ballmeyer!

  The young woman in her despair tried to commit suicide. She failed inthis, and was forced to rejoin her aunt in Cincinnati, The old lady wasoverjoyed to see her again. She had been anxiously searching for her andhad not dared to tell Monsieur Stangerson of her disappearance. Mathildeswore her to secrecy, so that her father should not know she had beenaway. A month later, Mademoiselle Stangerson returned to her father,repentant, her heart dead within her, hoping only one thing: that shewould never again see her husband, the horrible Ballmeyer. A report wasspread, a few weeks later, that he was dead, and she now determinedto atone for her disobedience by a life of labour and devotion for herfather. And she kept her word.

  All this she had confessed to Robert Darzac, and, believing Ballmeyerdead, had given herself to the joy of a union with him. But fate hadresuscitated Jean Roussel--the Ballmeyer of her youth. He hadtaken steps to let her know that he would never allow her to marryDarzac--that he still loved her.

  Mademoiselle Stangerson never for one moment hesitated to confide inMonsieur Darzac. She showed him the letter in which Jean Roussel askedher to recall the first hours of their union in their beautiful andcharming Louisville home. "The presbytery has lost nothing of its charm,nor the garden its brightness," he had written. The scoundrel pretendedto be rich and claimed the right of taking her back to Louisville. Shehad told Darzac that if her father should know of her dishonour, shewould kill herself. Monsieur Darzac had sworn to silence her persecutor,even if he had to kill him. He was outwitted and would have succumbedhad it not been for the genius of Rouletabille.

  Mademoiselle Stangerson was herself helpless in the hands of such avillain. She had tried to kill him when he had first threatened and thenattacked her in The Yellow Room. She had, unfortunately, failed, andfelt herself condemned to be for ever at the mercy of this unscrupulouswretch who was continually demanding her presence at clandestineinterviews. When he sent her the letter through the Post Office, askingher to meet him, she had refused. The result of her refusal was thetragedy of The Yellow Room. The second time he wrote asking for ameeting, the letter reaching her in her sick chamber, she had avoidedhim by sleeping with her servants. In that letter the scoundrel hadwarned her that, since she was too ill to come to him, he would cometo her, and that he would be in her chamber at a particular hour ona particular night. Knowing that she had everything to fear fromBallmeyer, she had left her chamber on that night. It was then that theincident of the "inexplicable gallery" occurred.

  The third time she had determined to keep the appointment. He asked forit in the letter he had written in her own room, on the night of theincident in the gallery, which he left on her desk. In that letter hethreatened to burn her father's papers if she did not meet him. It wasto rescue these papers that she made up her mind to see him. She did notfor one moment doubt that the wretch would carry out his threat if shepersisted in avoiding him, and in that case the labours of her father'slifetime would be for ever lost. Since the meeting was thus inevitable,she resolved to see her husband and appeal to his better nature. It wasfor this interview that she had prepared herself on the night the keeperwas killed. They did meet, and what passed between them may be imagined.He insisted that she renounce Darzac. She, on her part, affirmed herlove for him. He stabbed her in his anger, determined to convict Darzacof the crime. As Larsan he could do it, and had so managed things thatDarzac could never explain how he had employeeed the time of his absencefrom the chateau. Ballmeyer's precautions were most cunningly taken.

  Larsan had threatened Darzac as he had threatened Mathilde--with thesame weapon, and the same threats. He wrote Darzac urgent letters,declaring himself ready to deliver up the letters that had passedbetween him and his wife, and to leave them for ever, if he would payhim his price. He asked Darzac to meet him for the purpose of arrangingthe matter, appointing the time when Larsan would be with MademoiselleStangerson. When Darzac went to Epinay, expecting to find Ballmeyer orLarsan there, he was met by an accomplice of Larsan's, and kept waitinguntil such time as the "coincidence" could be established.

  It was all done with Machiavellian cunning; but Ballmeyer had reckonedwithout Joseph Rouletabille.

  Now that the Mystery of The Yellow Room has been cleared up, this is notthe time to tell of Rouletabille's adventures in America. Knowing theyoung reporter as we do, we can understand with what acumen he hadtraced, step by step, the story of Mathilde Stangerson and Jean Roussel.At Philadelphia he had quickly informed himself as to Arthur WilliamRance. There he learned of Rance's act of devotion and the rewardhe thought himself entitled to for it. A rumour of his marriage withMademoiselle Stangerson had once found its way into the drawing-rooms ofPhiladelphia. He also learned of Rance's continued attentions to her andhis importunities for her hand. He had taken to drink, he had said, todrown his grief at his unrequited love. It can now be understood whyRouletabille had shown so marked a coolness of demeanour towards Rancewhen they met in the witnesses' room, on the day of the trial.

  The strange Roussel-Stangerson mystery had now been laid bare. Who wasthis Jean Roussel? Rouletabille had traced him from Philadelphia toCincinnati. In Cincinnati he became acquainted with the old aunt, andhad found means to open her mouth. The story of Ballmeyer's arrest threwthe right light on the whole story. He visited the "presbytery"--a smalland pretty dwelling in the old colonial style--which had, indeed,"lost nothing of its charm." Then, abandoning his pursuit of traces ofMademoiselle Stangerson, he took up those of Ballmeyer. He followed themfrom prison to prison, from crime to crime. Finally, as he was aboutleaving for Europe, he learned in New York that Ballmeyer had, fiveyears before, embarked for France with some valuable papers belonging toa merchant of New Orleans whom he had murdered.

  And yet the whole of this mystery has not been revealed. MademoiselleStangerson had a child, by her husband,--a son. The infant was born inthe old aunt's house. No one knew of it, so well had the aunt managed toconceal the event.

  What became of that son?--That is another story which, so far, I am notpermitted to relate.

  About two months after these events, I came upon Rouletabille sitting ona bench in the Palais de Justice, looking very depressed.

  "What's the matter, old man?" I asked. "You are looking very downcast.How are your friends getting on?"

  "Apart from you," he said, "I have no friends."

  "I hope that Monsieur Darzac--"

  "No doubt."

  "And Mademoiselle Stangerson--How is she?"

  "Better--much better."

  "Then you ought not to be sad."

  "I am sad," he said, "because I am thinking of the perfume of the ladyin black--"

  "The perfume of the lady in black!--I have heard you often refer to it.Tell me why it troubles you."

  "Perhaps--some day; some day," said Rouletabille.

  And he heaved a profound sigh.

 

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