The Clique of Gold Part 41

Then, encouraged by the joyous surprise he read in Sarah's face, he went on,- "This expedition has cost me dear. Count Ville-Handry has just informed me that he has lost his whole fortune. I am in the same category."

"What! You are"- "Ruined. Yes; that is to say, I have been robbed,-robbed of every cent I ever had. On the eve of my departure, I intrusted a hundred thousand dollars, all I ever possessed, to M. de Brevan, with orders to hold it at Miss Henrietta's disposal. He found it easier to appropriate the whole to himself. So, you see, I am reduced to my pittance of pay as a lieutenant. That is not much."

Sarah looked at Daniel with perfect amazement. In any other man, this prodigious confidence in a friend would have appeared to her the extreme of human folly; in Daniel, she thought it was sublime.

"Is that the reason why they have arrested M. de Brevan?" she asked.

Daniel had not heard of his arrest.

"What!" he said. "Maxime"- "Was arrested last night, and is kept in close confinement."

However well prepared Daniel was by Papa Ravinet's account, he could never have hoped to manage the conversation as well as chance did. He replied,- "It cannot be for having robbed me. M. de Brevan must have been arrested for having attempted to murder me."

The lioness who has just been robbed of her whelps does not rise with greater fury in her eyes than Sarah did when she heard these words.

"What!" she cried aloud. "He has dared touch you!"

"Not personally; oh, no! But he hired for the base purpose a wretched felon, who was caught, and has confessed everything. I see that the order to apprehend my friend Maxime must have reached here before me, although it left Saigon some time later than I did."

Might not M. de Brevan be as cowardly as Crochard when he saw that all was lost? This idea, one would think, would have made Sarah tremble. But it never occurred to her.

"Ah, the wretch!" she repeated. "The scoundrel, the rascal!"

And, sitting down by Daniel, she asked him to tell her all the details of these attempted a.s.sa.s.sinations, from which he had escaped only by a miracle.

The Countess Sarah, in fact, never doubted for a moment but that Daniel was as madly in love with her as Planix, as Malgat, and Kergrist, and all the others, had been, she had become so accustomed to find her beauty irresistible and all powerful. How could it ever have occurred to her, that this man, the very first whom she loved sincerely, should also be the first and the only one to escape from her snares? She was taken in, besides, by the double mirage of love and of absence.

During the last two years she had so often evoked the image of Daniel, she had so constantly lived with him in her thoughts, that she mistook the illusion of her desires for the reality, and was no longer able to distinguish between the phantom of her dreams and the real person.

In the meantime he entertained her by describing to her his actual position, lamenting over the treachery by which he had been ruined, and adding how hard he would find it at thirty to begin the world anew.

And she, generally, so clearsighted, was not surprised to find that this man, who had been disinterestedness itself, should all of a sudden deplore his losses so bitterly, and value money so highly.

"Why do you not marry a rich woman?" she suddenly asked him.

He replied with a perfection of affected candor which he would not have suspected to be in his power the day before,- "What? Do you-you, Sarah-give me such advice?"

He said it so naturally, and with such an air of aggrieved surprise, that she was delighted and carried away by it, as if he had made her the most pa.s.sionate avowal.

"You love me? Do you really, really love me?"

The sound of a key turning in the door interrupted them.

And in an undertone, speaking pa.s.sionately, she said,- "Go now! You shall know by to-morrow who she is whom I have chosen for you. Come and breakfast with us at eleven o'clock. Go now."

And, kissing him on his lips till they burnt with unholy fire, she pushed him out of the room.

The poor man staggered like a drunken man, as he went down the stairs.

"I am playing an abominable game," he said to himself. "She does love me! What a woman!"

It required nothing less to rouse him from his stupor than the sight of Papa Ravinet, who was waiting for him below, hid in a corner of his carriage.

"Is it you?" he said.

"Yes, myself. And it seems it was well I came. But for me, the count would have kept you; but I came to your rescue by sending him up a letter. Now, tell me all."

Daniel reported to him briefly, while they were driving along, his conversation with the count and with Sarah. When he had concluded, the old dealer exclaimed,- "We have the whole matter in our hands now. But there is not a minute to lose. Do you go back to the hotel, and wait for me there. I must go to the court."

At the hotel Daniel found Henrietta dying with anxiety. Still she only asked after her father. Was it pride, or was it prudence? She did not mention Sarah's name. They had, however, not much time for conversation. Papa Ravinet came back sooner than they expected, all busy and excited. He drew Daniel aside to give him his last directions, and did not leave him till midnight, when he went away, saying,- "The ground is burning under our feet; be punctual to-morrow."

At the precise hour Daniel presented himself in Peletier Street, where the count received him with a delighted air.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "you come just in time. Brian is away; Sir Thorn is out on business; and I shall have to leave you directly after breakfast. You must keep the countess company. Come, Sarah, let us have breakfast."

It was an ill-omened breakfast.

Under the thick layers of rouge, the count showed his livid pallor; and every moment nervous tremblings shook him from head to foot. The countess affected childish happiness; but her sharp and sudden movements betrayed the storm that was raging in her heart. Daniel noticed that she incessantly filled the count's gla.s.s,-a strong wine it was too,-and that, in order to make him take more, she drank herself an unusual quant.i.ty.

It struck twelve, and Count Ville-Handry got up.

"Well," he said with the air and the voice of a man who braces himself to mount the scaffold, "it must be done; they are waiting for me."

And, after having kissed his wife with pa.s.sionate tenderness, he shook hands with Daniel, and went out hurriedly.

Crimson and breathless, Sarah also had risen, and was listening attentively. And, when she was quite sure that the count had gone downstairs, she said,- "Now, Daniel, look at me! Need I tell you who the woman is whom I have chosen for you? It is-the Countess Ville-Handry."

He shook and trembled; but he controlled himself by a supreme effort, and calmly smiling, in a half tender, half ironical tone, he replied,- "Why, oh, why! do you speak to me of unattainable happiness? Are you not married?"

"I may be a widow."

These words from her lips had a fearful meaning. But Daniel was prepared for them, and said,- "To be sure you may. But, unfortunately, you, also, are ruined. You are as poor as I am; and we are too clever to think of joining poverty to poverty."

She looked at him with a strange, sinister smile. She was evidently hesitating. A last ray of reason lighted up the abyss at her feet. But she was drunk with pride and pa.s.sion; she had taken a good deal of wine; and her usually cool head was in a state of delirium.

"And if I were not ruined?" she said at last in a hoa.r.s.e voice; "what would you say then?"

"I should say that you are the very woman of whom an ambitious man of thirty might dream in his most glorious visions."

She believed him. Yes, she was capable of believing that what he said was true; and, throwing aside all restraint, she went on,- "Well, then, I will tell you. I am rich,-immensely rich. That entire fortune which once belonged to Count Ville-Handry, and which he thinks has been lost in unlucky speculations,-the whole of it is in my hands. Ah! I have suffered horribly, to have to play for two long years the loving wife to this decrepit old man. But I thought of you, my much beloved, my Daniel; and that thought sustained me. I knew you would come back; and I wanted to have royal treasures to give you. And I have them. These much coveted millions are mine, and you are here; and now I can say to you, 'Take them, they are yours; I give them to you as I give myself to you.'"

She had drawn herself up to her full height as she said this; and she looked splendid and fearful at the same time, in her matchless beauty, diffusing energy and immodesty around her, and shaking her head defiantly, till the waves of golden hair flowed over her shoulders.

The untamed vagabond of the gutter reappeared all of a sudden, breathless and trembling, hoa.r.s.e, l.u.s.ting.

Daniel felt as if his reason was giving way. Still he had the strength to say,- "But unfortunately you are not a widow."

She drew close up to him, and said in a strident voice,- "Not a widow? Do you know what Count Ville-Handry is doing at this moment? He is beseeching his stockholders to relieve him from the effects of his mismanagement. If they refuse him, he will be brought up in court, and tried as a defaulter. Well, I tell you! they will refuse him; for among the largest stockholders there are three who belong to me: I have bribed them to refuse. What do you think the count will do when he finds himself dishonored and disgraced? I will tell you again; for I have seen him write his will, and load his revolver."

But the door of the outer room was opened. She turned as pale as death itself, and, seizing Daniel's arm violently, she whispered,- "Listen!"

Heavy steps were heard in the adjoining room, then-nothing more!

"It is he!" she whispered again. "Our fate is hanging in the scales"- A shot was heard, which made the window-panes rattle, and cut her short. She was seized with spasms from head to foot, but, making a great effort, she cried out,- "Free at last, Daniel; we are free!"

And, rushing to the door, she opened it.

She opened it, but instantly shut it again violently, and uttered a terrible cry.

On the threshold stood Count Ville-Handry, his features terribly distorted, a smoking revolver in his hand.

"No," he said, "Sarah, no, you are not free!"

Livid, and with eyeb.a.l.l.s starting from their sockets, the wretched woman had shrunk back to a door which opened from the dining-room directly into her chamber.

She was not despairing yet.

It was evident she was looking for one of those almost incredible excuses which are sometimes accepted by credulous old men when violent pa.s.sions seize them in their dotage.

She abandoned the thought, however, when the count stepped forward, and thus allowed Papa Ravinet to be seen behind him.

"Malgat!" she cried,-"Malgat!"

She held out her hands before her as if to push aside a spectre that had suddenly risen from the grave, and was now opening its arms to seize her, and carry her off.

In the meantime Malgat came forward, with Henrietta leaning on Mrs. Bertolle's arm.

"She also," muttered Sarah,-"she too!"

The terrible truth broke at last upon her mind: she saw the snare in which she had been caught, and felt that she was lost. Then turning to Daniel, she said to him,- "Poor man! Who has made you do this? It was not in your loyal heart to plan such treachery against a woman. Are you mad? And do you not see, that for the privilege of being loved by me as I love you, and were it but for a day, Malgat would again rob his employers, and the count would again give all his millions, and his honor itself?"

She said this; but at the same time she had slipped one of her hands behind her back, and was feeling for the k.n.o.b of the door. She got hold of it, and instantly disappeared, before any one could have prevented her escape.

"Never mind!" said Malgat. "All the outer doors are guarded."

But she had not meant to escape. There she was again, pale and cold like marble. She looked defiantly all around her, and said in a mocking tone of voice,- "I have loved; and now I can die. That is just. I have loved. Ah! Planix, Malgat, and Kergrist ought to have taught me what becomes of people who really love."

Then looking at Daniel, she went on,- "And you-you will know what you have lost when I am no more. I may die; but the memory of my love will never die: it will rankle ever in you like a wound which opens daily afresh, and becomes constantly sorer. You triumph now, Henrietta; but remember, that between your lips and Daniel's there will forever rise the shadow of Sarah Brandon."

As she said the last words, she raised a small phial, which she held in her hand, with an indescribably swift movement to her lips: she drank the contents, and, sinking into a chair, said,- "Now I defy you all!"

"Ah, she escapes after all!" exclaimed Malgat, "she escapes from justice!" He rushed forward to a.s.sist her; but Daniel stepped between, and said,- "Let her die."

Already horrible convulsions began to seize her; and the penetrating smell of bitter almonds, which slowly filled the whole room, told but too plainly that the poison which she had taken was one of those from which there is no rescue.

She was carried to her bed; and in less than ten minutes she was dead: she had never uttered another word.

Henrietta and Mrs. Bertolle were kneeling by the side of the bed, and the count was sobbing in a corner of the room, when a police-sergeant entered.

"The woman Brian is not to be found," he said; "but M. Elgin has been arrested. Where is the Countess Ville-Handry?"

Daniel pointed at the body.

"Dead?" said the officer. "Then I have nothing more to do here."

He was going out, when Malgat stopped him.

"I beg your pardon, sir," he said. "I wish to state that I am not Ravinet, dealer in curiosities; but that my true name is Malgat, formerly cashier of the Mutual Discount Society, sentenced in contumaciam to ten years' penal servitude. I am ready to be tried, and place myself in your hands."

x.x.xIII.

The magistrate from Saigon saw his hopes fulfilled, and, thanks to his promotion, was commissioned to continue the trial which he had so ably commenced. After the jury had brought in their verdict of guilty, he sentenced Justin Cheva.s.sat, alias Maxime de Brevan, to penal servitude for life.

Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet, got off with twenty years; and the two Cheva.s.sats escaped with ten years' solitary confinement.

The trial of Thomas Elgin, which came on during the same term, revealed a system of swindling which was so strikingly bold and daring, that it appeared at first sight almost incredible. It excited especial surprise when it was found out that he had issued false shares, which he made Count Ville-Handry buy in, so as to ruin, by the same process, the count as an individual, and the company over which he presided. He was sent for twenty years to the penitentiary.

These scandalous proceedings had one good result. They saved the poor count; but they revealed, at the same time, such prodigious unfitness for business, that people began to suspect how dependent he must have been on his first wife, Henrietta's mother. He remained, however, relatively poor. They had made Thomas Elgin refund, and had even obtained possession of Sarah Brandon's fortune; but the count was called upon to make amends for his want of business capacity. When he had satisfied all his creditors, and handed over to his daughter a part of her maternal inheritance, he had hardly more than six thousand dollars a year left.

Of the whole "band," Mrs. Brian alone escaped.

Malgat, having surrendered to justice with the prescribed limits of time to purge himself, was tried, and the whole process begun anew. But the trial was naturally a mere form. His own lawyer had very little to say. The state attorney himself made his defense. After having fully explained the circ.u.mstances which had led the poor cashier to permit a crime, rather than to commit it himself, the attorney said to the jury,- "Now, gentlemen, that you have learned what was the wrong of which he is guilty, you ought also to know how he has expiated his crime.

"When he left the miserable woman who had ruined him, maddened by grief, and determined to end his life, Malgat went home. There he found his sister.

"She was one of those women who have religiously preserved the domestic virtues of our forefathers, and who know of no compromise in questions of honor.

"She had soon forced her brother to confess his fatal secret, and, overcoming the horror she naturally felt, she found words, inspired by her excellent heart, which moved him, and led him to reconsider his resolve. She told him that suicide was but an additional crime, and that he was in honor bound to live, so that he might make amends, and restore the money he had stolen."

"Hope began to rise once more in his heart, and filled him with unexpected energy. And yet what obstacles he had to encounter! How could he ever hope to return four hundred thousand francs. How should he go about to earn so much money? and where? How could he do anything, now that he was compelled to live in concealment?

"Do you know, gentlemen, what this sister did in her almost sublime devotion? She had a moderate income from state bonds; she sold them all, and carried the proceeds to the president of the Mutual Discount Society, begging him to be patient as to the remainder, and promising that he should be repaid, capital and interest alike. She asked for nothing but secrecy; and he pledged himself to secrecy.

"And from that day, gentlemen of the jury, the brother and the sister have lived like the poorest laborers, working incessantly, and denying themselves everything but what was indispensable for life itself.

"And this day, gentlemen, Malgat owes nothing to the society; he has paid everything. He fell once; but he has risen again. And this place in court, where he now sits as a prisoner, will become to him a place of honor, in which he will recover his position in society, and his honor."

Malgat was acquitted.