The Red Lottery Ticket Part 23

"'I am sure that your mother will yield,'" he continued, resuming his perusual, "'and it is hardly probable that you will ever see her again.

That is why, before I go to see her, I wish to make you clearly understand the part she has played in an affair which has proved so terrible in its consequences to us all, and to me especially. I need not revert to the past, nor need I speak of your mother's fault. I can only plead extenuating circ.u.mstances on her behalf. While your poor father lived she did not fail in her duty. She brought you up carefully, your sister and yourself; she even loved you devotedly. It was her husband's death that caused all this misery. Left to herself, and transplanted to Paris, she lacked the strength to resist the many temptations of her new life; and fate willed that she should meet a scoundrel who only thought of profiting by her weakness. He wanted to marry her for her money, but I managed to prevent that, though she fell a willing victim to his fascinations. She finally discovered, however, that she had several rivals in his affections, and a rupture followed. She could not escape from Dargental's persecutions; his demands never ceased, and latterly, they a.s.sumed such a threatening character that I resolved to put an end to them. I could not choose my means in doing this. It was absolutely necessary to secure the rest.i.tution of a letter which Dargental had threatened to send to Monsieur Rochas, in case your mother did not consent to purchase it at a cost of two hundred thousand francs; and I could not hope to obtain it from Dargental by persuasion. Your mother was terribly frightened, and wished to marry as soon as possible in order to have a protector capable of defending her. I took good care not to say a word to her about the plan which I had formed, and which I executed without anybody's help. I resolved to kill Dargental, and I did kill him!'

"Plancoet a murderer! impossible!" exclaimed the lieutenant.

"I knew it," murmured George. "Go on to the end, my friend."

Albert was in consternation, but he, nevertheless, continued: "'I killed him, after a violent altercation which would almost justify me in pleading that I only acted in self-defence; but I believe I should have killed him in any case. This man would have cast a shadow over Gabrielle's whole life. He was a disgrace to mankind. I secured the letter which he had intended to use as a weapon against your mother and yourselves, and I left the house; and we should have all been saved but for a strange fatality. When you see Monsieur Caumont again, ask him to explain how he and his friend, Monsieur de Puymirol, came into possession of the pocket-book I had taken from Dargental, and tell him that I was the person who threw that pocket-book into their cab. He will guess the rest, and explain everything to you. I enclose in this note the letters written by the two ladies I do not know. I keep the third, which will be useful to me in negotiating with your mother. If she accepts the conditions we have agreed to impose upon her--as I have no doubt she will--I shall leave her letter with Monsieur Berlier, my notary, who resides at No. 7 on the Quai Saint-Michel, with instructions to give it to your mother in exchange for her written consent to your sister's marriage with Monsieur Caumont.'"

"The exchange has been effected," said George. "I met your mother as she was leaving the notary's office."

"'And this is what I have resolved to do, whatever the result may be:'"

resumed Albert, still reading Plancoet's letter: "'Monsieur Caumont's most intimate friend has been arrested, and is still in prison, charged with a crime of which he is innocent. He shall not remain there any longer. I will not permit it. I shall call upon the magistrate this very day, and inform him that it was I who killed Dargental. He will ask me why I killed him, and I shall be obliged to invent some story that will screen your mother from suspicion. He will also ask my name; but I shall refuse to give it, and I shall kill myself in the magistrate's presence.'"

"He must have been crazy when he wrote that," said Albert.

"He did kill himself, I saw him do so," rejoined George.

"Good heavens! is it true? you were present at the time?"

"Yes," said Caumont; and he forthwith related all that had taken place in the magistrate's office.

"Poor Roch!" murmured the lieutenant, dashing away a tear. "He sacrificed his life for our sake, I see that. But I have not finished his letter; let me read on to the end: 'I mean to shoot myself in such a way that I shall be absolutely disfigured. There are no marks on my linen, no tailor's name on my clothes: I have even pulled the lining out of my hat so that my ident.i.ty will always remain a mystery for the officials. My notary will hand you a power of attorney enabling you to attend to my affairs, for I have told him and the doorkeeper at my house that I am going to America. n.o.body will pay any attention to my disappearance. Believe me when I say that your mother is quite guiltless in all this. Puymirol also; Rochas, too, knew nothing about it, though Dargental had sent him anonymous letters, and he was having me watched, believing me to be your mother's lover. Dargental would have brought disgrace upon you all. He would not have stopped at anything: he was so very furious that he could not obtain a large sum of money from your mother. There was but one course to follow--to put him out of the way--and I adopted it. And now, G.o.d bless you! Think of me sometimes.

Give Caumont Gabrielle's portrait which hangs in my sitting-room.

Good-bye, my dear Albert, my last thought will be for you all.'"

A spell of silence followed this perusal. There were tears in the young men's eyes. However, finally, Caumont remarked: "It seems as though Roch's suicide will really end the investigation. His body will not be identified, and the affair will be forgotten, providing we prevent any imprudent act calculated to revive it."

"An imprudent act! We shall certainly not commit any."

"No; but we can't foresee what the writers of those letters will do.

Even now, they may be shuddering at the thought of being compromised; and fear is a bad adviser."

"You are right, and I think it would be as well to return the letters to them immediately--the sooner the better. Let us take a cab, and call on them."

Caumont a.s.sented; and five minutes later, he and Albert were rolling through the streets of Paris, bound first for Blanche's rooms in the Avenue de Messine, and thence for the Les...o...b..t mansion near the Parc Monceau.

But little more now remains to be told; Blanche received her letter, and the countess received hers; and both missives were duly burnt without delay. Three weeks after Roch Plancoet's death, George and Gabrielle were married at the church of St. Sulpice. The bride was, perhaps, a trifle sad as her brother and her happy spouse had been obliged to inform her of Roch's suicide, and even amid her bliss, she could not entirely forget the worthy old friend, who had sacrificed himself for her and hers. M. Robergeot had failed to penetrate the ident.i.ty of Dargental's murderer, so thorough had been the precautions which Roch had taken; and to the authorities, if not to our readers, the crime of the Boulevard Haussmann still remains a puzzling mystery.

Madame Verdon is now married. She was united at Florence to M. Rochas, who rules her with an iron hand. Puymirol, having been duly released, has converted his Aunt Besseges's property into cash and left for New York, where he hopes to find a rich wife, but the Americans are shrewd, and his sanguine expectations may not be realised. Poor Charles Balmer is furious. A celebrated physician has just informed him that he has thirty more years to live, and he has only money enough left to last him eighteen months. Albert is fast becoming an able officer, and is daily expecting promotion; while as for George and Gabrielle they are really happy, and still remember Roch Plancoet, who died to insure them a peaceful, unclouded life.

THE END.