File No. 113 by Emile Gaboriau (classic literature books TXT) ๐
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- Author: Emile Gaboriau
Read book online ยซFile No. 113 by Emile Gaboriau (classic literature books TXT) ๐ยป. Author - Emile Gaboriau
But the drunkenness he sought came not; the wine proved false; at the bottom of the last bottle he found disgust and rage.
The clock struck eight.
โThe time has come,โ said Louis firmly.
Raoul turned livid; his teeth chattered, and his limbs trembled so that he was unable to stand on his feet.
โOh, I cannot do it!โ he cried in an agony of terror and rage.
Clameranโs eyes flashed with angry excitement at the prospect of all his plans being ruined at the last moment. But he dared not give way to his anger, for fear of exasperating Raoul, whom he knew to be anxious for an excuse to quarrel; so he quietly pulled the bell-rope. A boy appeared.
โA bottle of port,โ he said, โand a bottle of rum.โ
When the boy returned with the bottles, Louis filled a goblet with the two liquors mixed, and handed it to Raoul.
โDrink this,โ he said in a tone of command.
Raoul emptied the glass at one draught, and a faint color returned to his ashy cheeks. He arose, and snatching up his hat, cried fiercely:
โCome along!โ
But before he had walked half a square, the factitious energy inspired by drink deserted him.
He clung to Clameranโs arm, and was almost dragged along in the direction of the bankerโs house, trembling like a criminal on his way to the scaffold.
โIf I can once get him in the house,โ thought Louis, โand make him begin, the excitement of his motherโs opposition will make him carry it through successfully. The cowardly baby! I would like to wring his neck!โ
Although his breast was filled with these thoughts and fears, he was careful to conceal them from Raoul, and said soothingly:
โNow, donโt forget our arrangement, and be careful how you enter the house; everything depends upon your being unconcerned and cool, to avoid arousing suspicion in the eyes of anyone you may meet. Have you a pistol in your pocket?โ
โYes, yes! Let me alone!โ
It was well that Clameran had accompanied Raoul; for, when he got in sight of the door, his courage gave way, and he longed to retreat.
โA poor, helpless woman!โ he groaned, โand an honest man who pressed my hand in friendship yesterday, to be cowardly ruined, betrayed by me! Ah, it is too base! I cannot!โ
โCome, donโt be a coward! I thought you had more nerve. Why, you might as well have remained virtuous and honest; you will never earn your salt in this sort of business.โ
Raoul overcame his weakness, and, silencing the clamors of his conscience, rushed up the steps, and pulled the bell furiously.
โIs Mme. Fauvel at home?โ he inquired of the servant who opened the door.
โMadame is alone in the sitting-room adjoining her chamber,โ was the reply.
Raoul went upstairs.
XX Clameranโs last injunction to Raoul was:
โBe very cautious when you enter the room; your appearance must tell everything, so you can avoid preliminary explanations.โ
The recommendation was useless.
The instant that Raoul went into the little salon, the sight of his pale, haggard face and wild eyes caused Mme. Fauvel to spring up with clasped hands, and cry out:
โRaoul! What has happened? Speak, my son!โ
The sound of her tender, affectionate voice acted like an electric shock upon the young bandit. He shook like a leaf. But at the same time his mind seemed to change. Louis was not mistaken in his estimate of his companionโs character. Raoul was on the stage, his part was to be played; his assurance returned to him; his cheating, lying nature assumed the ascendant, and stifled any better feeling in his heart.
โThis misfortune is the last I shall ever suffer, mother!โ
Mme. Fauvel rushed toward him, and, seizing his hand, gazed searchingly into his eyes, as if to read his very soul.
โWhat is the matter? Raoul, my dear son, do tell me what troubles you.โ
He gently pushed her from him.
โThe matter is, my mother,โ he said in a voice of heart-broken despair, โthat I am an unworthy, degenerate son! Unworthy of you, unworthy of my noble father!โ
She tried to comfort him by saying that his errors were all her fault, and that he was, in spite of all, the pride of her heart.
โAlas!โ he said, โI know and judge myself. No one can reproach me for my infamous conduct more bitterly than does my own conscience. I am not naturally wicked, but only a miserable fool. At times I am like an insane man, and am not responsible for my actions. Ah, my dear mother, I would not be what I am, if you had watched over my childhood. But brought up among strangers, with no guide but my own evil passions, nothing to restrain me, no one to advise me, no one to love me, owning nothing, not even my stolen name, I am cursed with vanity and unbounded ambition. Poor, with no one to assist me but you, I have the tastes and vices of a millionnaireโs son.
โAlas for me! When I found you, the evil was done. Your affection, your maternal love, the only true happiness of my life, could not save me. I, who had suffered so much, endured so many privations, even the pangs of hunger, became spoiled by this new life of luxury and pleasure which you opened before me. I rushed headlong into extravagance, as a drunkard long deprived of liquor seizes and drains to the dregs the first bottle in his reach.โ
Mme. Fauvel listened, silent and terrified, to these words of despair and remorse, which Raoul uttered with vehemence.
She dared not interrupt him, but felt certain some dreadful piece of news was coming.
Raoul continued in a sad, hopeless tone:
โYes, I have been a weak fool. Happiness was within my reach, and I had not the sense to stretch forth my hand and grab it. I rejected a heavenly reality to eagerly pursue a vain phantom. I, who ought to have spent my life at your feet, and daily striven to express my gratitude for your lavish kindness, have made you unhappy, destroyed your peace of mind, and, instead of being a blessing, I have been a curse ever since the first fatal day you welcomed me to
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