File No. 113 by Émile Gaboriau (summer beach reads .txt) 📕

“That is all,” said M. Verduret; “don’t you think it enough?”

“Really, monsieur, I don’t know whether I am awake or dreaming.”

“You will be awake after a while. Now I wish to remark one thing. Some people may assert that the widow Lagors had a child born after her husband’s death. This objection has been destroyed by the age of your friend. Raoul is twenty-four, and M. de Lagors has not been dead twenty years.”

“But,” said Prosper thoughtfully, “who can Raoul be?”

“I don’t know. The fact is, I am more perplexed to find out who he is, than to know whom he is not. There is one man who could give us all the information we seek, but he will take good care to keep his mouth shut.”

“You mean M. de Clameran?”

“Him, and no one else.”

“I have always felt the most inexplicable aversion toward him. Ah, if we could only get his account in addition to what you already have!”

“I have been furnished with a few notes concerning the Clameran family by your father, who knew them well; they are brief, but I expect more.”

“What did my father tell you?”

“Nothing favorable, you may be sure. I will read you the synopsis of this information:

“ ‘Louis de Clameran was born at the Château de Clameran, near Tarascon. He had an elder brother named Gaston, who, in consequence of an affray in which he had the misfortune to kill one man and badly wound another, was compelled to fly the country in 1842. Gaston was an honest, noble youth, universally beloved. Louis, on the contrary, was a wicked, despicable fellow, detested by all who knew him.

“ ‘Upon the death of his father, Louis came to Paris, and in less than two years had squandered not only his own patrimony, but also the share of his exiled brother.

“ ‘Ruined and harassed by debt, Louis entered the army, but behaved so disgracefully that he was dismissed.

“ ‘After leaving the army we lose sight of him; all we can discover is, that he went to England, and thence to a German gambling resort, where he became notorious for his scandalous conduct.

“ ‘In 1865 we find him again at Paris. He was in great poverty, and his associates were among the most depraved classes.

“ ‘But he suddenly heard of the return of his brother Gaston to Paris. Gaston had made a fortune in Mexico; but being still a young man, and accustomed to a very active life, he purchased, near Orloron, an iron-mill, intending to spend the remainder of his life in working at it. Six months ago he died in the arms of his brother Louis. His death provided our De Clameran an immense fortune, and the title of marquis.’ ”

“Then,” said Prosper, “from all this I judge that M. de Clameran was very poor when I met him for the first time at M. Fauvel’s?”

“Evidently.”

“And about that time Lagors arrived from the country?”

“Precisely.”

“And about a month after his appearance Madeleine suddenly banished me?”

“Well,” exclaimed M. Verduret, “I am glad you are beginning to understand the state of affairs.”

He was interrupted by the entrance of a stranger.

The newcomer was a dandified-looking coachman, with elegant black whiskers, shining boots with fancy tops; buff breeches, and a yellow waistcoat with red and black stripes.

After cautiously looking around the room, he walked straight up to the table where M. Verduret sat.

“What is the news, Master Joseph Dubois?” said the stout man eagerly.

“Ah, patron, don’t speak of it!” answered the servant: “things are getting warm.”

Prosper concentrated all his attention upon this superb domestic. He thought he recognized his face. He had certainly somewhere seen that retreating forehead and those little restless black eyes, but where and when he could not remember.

Meanwhile, Master Joseph had taken a seat at a table adjoining the one occupied by M. Verduret and Prosper; and, having called for some absinthe, was preparing it by holding the water aloft and slowly dropping it in the glass.

“Speak!” said M. Verduret.

“In the first place, patron, I must say that the position of valet and coachman to M. de Clameran is not a bed of roses.”

“Go on: come to the point. You can complain tomorrow.”

“Very good. Yesterday my master walked out at two o’clock. I, of course, followed him. Do you know where he went? The thing was as good as a farce. He went to the Archangel to keep the appointment made by ‘Nina Gypsy.’ ”

“Well, make haste. They told him she was gone. Then?”

“Then? Ah! he was not at all pleased, I can tell you. He hurried back to the hotel where the other, M. de Lagors, awaited him. And, upon my soul, I have never heard so much swearing in my life! M. Raoul asked him what had happened to put him in such a bad humor. ‘Nothing,’ replied my master, ‘except that little devil has run off, and no one knows where she is; she has slipped through our fingers.’ Then they both appeared to be vexed and uneasy. Lagors asked if she knew anything serious. ‘She knows nothing but what I told you,’ replied Clameran; ‘but this nothing, falling in the ear of a man with any suspicions, will be more than enough to work on.’ ”

M. Verduret smiled like a man who had his reasons for appreciating at their just value De Clameran’s fears.

“Well, your master is not without sense, after all; don’t you think he showed it by saying that?”

“Yes, patron. Then Lagors exclaimed, ‘If it is as serious as that, we must get rid of this little serpent!’ But my master shrugged his shoulders, and laughing loudly said, ‘You talk like an idiot; when one is annoyed by a woman of this sort, one must take measures to get rid of her administratively.’ This idea seemed to amuse them both very much.”

“I can understand their being entertained by it,” said M. Verduret; “it is an excellent idea; but the misfortune is, it is too late to carry it out. The nothing which made Clameran uneasy has already fallen into a knowing ear.”

With breathless curiosity, Prosper listened to