Detective Lecoq - Complete Murder Mysteries. Emile Gaboriau
her last, he believed himself safe. He thought it all over, he could see no further obstacle in his way; he was sure he had triumphed.
And now all was discovered, just as he was about to reach the goal of his ambition. But how? By whom? What fatality had resuscitated a secret which he had believed buried with Madame Gerdy?
But where is the use, when one is at the bottom of an abyss, of knowing which stone gave way, or of asking down what side one fell?
The cab stopped in the Rue de Provence. Noel leaned out of the door, his eyes exploring the neighbourhood and throwing a searching glance into the depths of the hall of the house. Seeing no one, he paid the fare through the front window, before getting out of the cab, and, crossing the pavement with a bound, he rushed up stairs.
Charlotte, at sight of him, gave a shout of joy.
“At last it is you, sir!” she cried. “Ah, madame has been expecting you with the greatest impatience! She has been very anxious.”
Juliette expecting him! Juliette anxious!
The advocate did not stop to ask questions. On reaching this spot, he seemed suddenly to recover all his composure. He understood his imprudence; he knew the exact value of every minute he delayed here.
“If any one rings,” said he to Charlotte, “don’t open the door. No matter what may be said or done, don’t open the door!”
On hearing Noel’s voice, Juliette ran out to meet him. He pushed her gently into the salon, and followed, closing the door.
There for the first time she saw his face.
He was so changed; his look was so haggard that she could not keep from crying out, “What is the matter?”
Noel made no reply; he advanced towards her and took her hand.
“Juliette,” he demanded in a hollow voice, fastening his flashing eyes upon her — “Juliette, be sincere; do you love me?”
She instinctively felt that something dreadful had occurred: she seemed to breathe an atmosphere of evil; but she, as usual, affected indifference.
“You ill-natured fellow,” she replied, pouting her lips most provokingly, “do you deserve —”
“Oh, enough!” broke in Noel, stamping his feet fiercely. “Answer me,” he continued, bruising her pretty hands in his grasp, “yes, or no — do you love me?”
A hundred times had she played with her lover’s anger, delighting to excite him into a fury, to enjoy the pleasure of appeasing him with a word; but she had never seen him like this before.
She had wronged him greatly; and she dared not complain of this his first harshness.
“Yes, I love you,” she stammered, “do you not know it?”
“Why?” replied the advocate, releasing her hands; “why? Because, if you love me you must prove it; if you love me, you must follow me at once — abandon everything. Come, fly with me. Time presses ——”
The young girl was terrified.
“Great heavens! what has happened?”
“Nothing, except that I have loved you too much, Juliette. When I found I had no more money for your luxury, your caprices, I became wild. To procure money, I — I committed a crime — a crime; do you understand? They are pursuing me now. I must fly: will you follow me?”
Juliette’s eyes grew wide with astonishment; but she doubted Noel.
“A crime? You?” she began.
“Yes, me! Would you know the truth? I have committed murder, an assassination. But it was all for you.”
The advocate felt that Juliette would certainly recoil from him in horror. He expected that terror which a murderer inspires. He was resigned to it in advance. He thought that she would fly from him; perhaps there would be a scene. She might, who knows, have hysterics; might cry out, call for succor, for help, for aid. He was wrong.
With a bound, Juliette flew to him, throwing herself upon him, her arms about his neck, and embraced him as she had never embraced him before.
“Yes, I do love you!” she cried. “Yes, you have committed a crime for my sake, because you loved me. You have a heart. I never really knew you before!”
It had cost him dear to inspire this passion in Madame Juliette; but Noel never thought of that.
He experienced a moment of intense delight: nothing appeared hopeless to him now.
But he had the presence of mind to free himself from her embrace.
“Let us go,” he said; “the one great danger is, that I do not know from whence the attack comes. How they have discovered the truth is still a mystery to me.”
Juliette remembered her alarming visitor of the afternoon; she understood it all.
“Oh, what a wretched woman I am!” she cried, wringing her hands in despair; “it is I who have betrayed you. It occurred on Tuesday, did it not?”
“Yes, Tuesday.”
“Ah, then I have told all, without a doubt, to your friend, the old man I supposed you had sent, Tabaret!”
“Has Tabaret been here?”
“Yes; just a little while ago.”
“Come, then,” cried Noel, “quickly; it’s a miracle that he hasn’t been back.”
He took her arm, to hurry her away; but she nimbly released herself.
“Wait,” said she. “I have some money, some jewels. I will take them.”
“It is useless. Leave everything behind. I have a fortune, Juliette; let us fly!”
She had already opened her jewel box, and was throwing everything of value that she possessed pell mell into a little travelling bag.
“Ah, you are ruining me,” cried Noel, “you are ruining me!”
He spoke thus; but his heart was overflowing with joy.
“What sublime devotion! She loves me truly,” he said to himself; “for my sake, she renounces her happy life without hesitation; for my sake, she sacrifices all!”
Juliette had finished her preparations, and was hastily tying on her bonnet, when the door-bell rang.
“It is the police!” cried Noel, becoming, if possible, even more livid.
The young woman and her lover stood as immovable as two statues, with great drops of perspiration on their foreheads, their eyes dilated, and their ears listening intently. A second ring was heard, then a third.
Charlotte appeared walking on tip-toe.
“There are several,” she whispered; “I heard them talking together.”
Grown tired of ringing, they knocked loudly on the door. The sound of a voice reached the drawing-room, and the word “law” was plainly heard.
“No more hope!” murmured Noel.
“Don’t despair,” cried Juliette; “try the servants’ staircase!”
“You may be sure they have not forgotten it.”
Juliette went to see, and returned dejected and terrified. She bad distinguished heavy foot-steps on the landing, made by some one endeavouring to walk softly.
“There must be some way of escape!” she cried fiercely.
“Yes,” replied Noel, “one way. I have given my word. They are picking the lock. Fasten all the doors, and let them break them down; it will give me time.”
Juliette and Charlotte ran to carry out his directions. Then Noel, leaning against the mantel piece, seized his revolver and pointed it at his breast.