The Crystal Stopper Part 35

"There, here's the ladder. It is fixed in the bed of the river. A friend of mine is looking after it, as well as your cousins."

He whistled:

"Here I am," he said, in a low voice. "Hold the ladder fast." And, to Daubrecq, "I'll go first."

Daubrecq objected:

"Perhaps it would be better for me to go down first."

"Why?"

"I am very tired. You can tie your rope round my waist and hold me...

Otherwise, there is a danger that I might..."

"Yes, you are right," said Lupin. "Come nearer."

Daubrecq came nearer and knelt down on the rock. Lupin fastened the rope to him and then, stooping over, grasped one of the uprights in both hands to keep the ladder from shaking:

"Off you go," he said.

At the same moment, he felt a violent pain in the shoulder:

"Blast it!" he said, sinking to the ground.

Daubrecq had stabbed him with a knife below the nape of the neck, a little to the right.

"You blackguard! You blackguard!"

He half-saw Daubrecq, in the dark, ridding himself of his rope, and heard him whisper:

"You're a bit of a fool, you know!... You bring me a letter from my Rousselot cousins, in which I recognize the writing of the elder, Adelaide, but which that sly puss of an Adelaide, suspecting something and meaning to put me on my guard, if necessary, took care to sign with the name of the younger sister, Euphrasie Rousselot. You see, I tumbled to it! So, with a little reflection... you are Master a.r.s.ene Lupin, are you not? Clarisse's protector, Gilbert's saviour... Poor Lupin, I fear you're in a bad way... I don't use the knife often; but, when I do, I use it with a vengeance."

He bent over the wounded man and felt in his pockets:

"Give me your revolver, can't you? You see, your friends will know at once that it is not their governor; and they will try to secure me...

And, as I have not much strength left, a bullet or two... Good-bye, Lupin. We shall meet in the next world, eh? Book me a nice flat, with all the latest conveniences.

"Good-bye, Lupin. And my best thanks. For really I don't know what I should have done without you. By Jove, d'Albufex was. .h.i.tting me hard!

It'll be a joke to meet the beggar again!"

Daubrecq had completed his preparations. He whistled once more. A reply came from the boat.

"Here I am," he said.

With a last effort, Lupin put out his arm to stop him. But his hand touched nothing but s.p.a.ce. He tried to call out, to warn his accomplices: his voice choked in his throat.

He felt a terrible numbness creep over his whole being. His temples buzzed.

Suddenly, shouts below. Then a shot. Then another, followed by a triumphant chuckle. And a woman's wail and moans. And, soon after, two more shots.

Lupin thought of Clarisse, wounded, dead perhaps; of Daubrecq, fleeing victoriously; of d'Albufex; of the crystal stopper, which one or other of the two adversaries would recover unresisted. Then a sudden vision showed him the Sire de Tancarville falling with the woman he loved. Then he murmured, time after time:

"Clarisse... Clarisse... Gilbert..." A great silence overcame him; an infinite peace entered into him; and, without the least revolt, he received the impression that his exhausted body, with nothing now to hold it back, was rolling to the very edge of the rock, toward the abyss.

CHAPTER IX. IN THE DARK

An hotel bedroom at Amiens.

Lupin was recovering a little consciousness for the first time. Clarisse and the Masher were seated by his bedside.

Both were talking; and Lupin listened to them, without opening his eyes.

He learned that they had feared for his life, but that all danger was now removed. Next, in the course of the conversation, he caught certain words that revealed to him what had happened in the tragic night at Mortepierre: Daubrecq's descent; the dismay of the accomplices, when they saw that it was not the governor; then the short struggle: Clarisse flinging herself on Daubrecq and receiving a wound in the shoulder; Daubrecq leaping to the bank; the Growler firing two revolver-shots and darting off in pursuit of him; the Masher clambering up the ladder and finding the governor in a swoon:

"True as I live," said the Masher, "I can't make out even now how he did not roll over. There was a sort of hollow at that place, but it was a sloping hollow; and, half dead as he was, he must have hung on with his ten fingers. Crikey, it was time I came!"

Lupin listened, listened in despair. He collected his strength to grasp and understand the words. But suddenly a terrible sentence was uttered: Clarisse, weeping, spoke of the eighteen days that had elapsed, eighteen more days lost to Gilbert's safety.

Eighteen days! The figure terrified Lupin. He felt that all was over, that he would never be able to recover his strength and resume the struggle and that Gilbert and Vaucheray were doomed... His brain slipped away from him. The fever returned and the delirium.

And more days came and went. It was perhaps the time of his life of which Lupin speaks with the greatest horror. He retained just enough consciousness and had sufficiently lucid moments to realize the position exactly. But he was not able to coordinate his ideas, to follow a line of argument nor to instruct or forbid his friends to adopt this or that line of conduct.

Often, when he emerged from his torpor, he found his hand in Clarisse's and, in that half-slumbering condition in which a fever keeps you, he would address strange words to her, words of love and pa.s.sion, imploring her and thanking her and blessing her for all the light and joy which she had brought into his darkness.

Then, growing calmer and not fully understanding what he had said, he tried to jest:

"I have been delirious, have I not? What a heap of nonsense I must have talked!"

But Lupin felt by Clarisse's silence that he could safely talk as much nonsense as ever his fever suggested to him. She did not hear. The care and attention which she lavished on the patient, her devotion, her vigilance, her alarm at the least relapse: all this was meant not for him, but for the possible saviour of Gilbert. She anxiously watched the progress of his convalescence. How soon would he be fit to resume the campaign? Was it not madness to linger by his side, when every day carried away a little hope?

Lupin never ceased repeating to himself, with the inward belief that, by so doing, he could influence the course of his illness:

"I will get well... I will get well..."

And he lay for days on end without moving, so as not to disturb the dressing of his wound nor increase the excitement of his nerves in the smallest degree.

He also strove not to think of Daubrecq. But the image of his dire adversary haunted him; and he reconst.i.tuted the various phases of the escape, the descent of the cliff.... One day, struck by a terrible memory, he exclaimed:

"The list! The list of the Twenty-seven! Daubrecq must have it by now...

or else d'Albufex. It was on the table!"

Clarisse rea.s.sured him:

"No one can have taken it," she declared. "The Growler was in Paris that same day, with a note from me for Prasville, entreating him to redouble his watch in the Square Lamartine, so that no one should enter, especially d'Albufex..."

"But Daubrecq?"

"He is wounded. He cannot have gone home."