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

would be discovered. Then she would think, “I may as well be tranquil; misfortune has forgotten me.”

Poor, deluded woman! Misfortune is a visitor who sometimes delays his visits, but always comes in the end.

XV

Louis de Clameran, the second son of the marquis, was one of those self-controlled men who, beneath a cool, careless manner, conceal a fiery temperament, and ungovernable passions.

All sorts of extravagant ideas had begun to ferment in his disordered brain, long before the occurrence which decided the destiny of the Clameran family.

Apparently occupied in the pursuit of pleasure, this precocious hypocrite longed for a larger field in which to indulge his evil inclinations, secretly cursing the stern necessity which chained him down to this dreary country life, and the old château, which to him was more gloomy than a prison, and as lifeless as the grave.

This existence, dragged out in the country and the small neighboring towns, was too monotonous for his restless nature. The paternal authority, though so gently expressed, exasperated his rebellious temper. He thirsted for independence, riches, excitement, and all the unknown pleasures that pall upon the senses simultaneously with their attainment.

Louis did not love his father, and he hated his brother Gaston.

The old marquis, in his culpable thoughtlessness, had kindled this burning envy in the heart of his second son.

A strict observer of traditional rights, he had always declared that the eldest son of a noble house should inherit all the family possessions, and that he intended to leave Gaston his entire fortune.

This flagrant injustice and favoritism inspired Louis with envious hatred for his brother.

Gaston always said that he would never consent to profit by this paternal partiality, but would share equally with his brother. Judging others by himself, Louis placed no faith in this assertion, which he called an ostentatious affectation of generosity.

Although this hatred was unsuspected by the marquis and Gaston, it was betrayed by acts significant enough to attract the attention of the servants, who often commented upon it.

They were so fully aware of Louis’s sentiments toward his brother that, when he was prevented from escaping because of the stumbling horse, they refused to believe it an accident; and, whenever Louis came near would mutter, “Fratricide!”

A deplorable scene took place between Louis and St. Jean, who was allowed, on account of his fifty years’ faithful service, to take liberties which he sometimes abused by making rough speeches to his superiors.

“It is a great pity,” said the old servant, “that a skilful rider like yourself should have fallen at the very moment when your brother’s life depended upon your horsemanship.”

At this broad insinuation, Louis turned pale, and threateningly cried out:

“You insolent dog, what do you mean?”

“You know well enough what I mean, monsieur,” the old man said, significantly.

“I do not know! Explain your impertinence: speak, I tell you!”

The man only answered by a meaning look, which so incensed Louis that he rushed toward him with upraised whip, and would have beaten him unmercifully, had not the other servants interfered, and dragged St. Jean from the spot.

This altercation occurred while Gaston was in the madder-field trying to escape his pursuers.

After a while the gendarmes and hussars returned, with slow tread and sad faces, to say that Gaston de Clameran had plunged into the Rhone, and was instantly drowned.

This melancholy news was received with groans and tears by everyone save Louis, who remained calm and unmoved: not a single muscle of his face quivered.

But his eyes sparkled with triumph. A secret voice cried within him, “Now you are assured of the family fortune, and a marquis’s coronet.”

He was no longer the poverty-stricken younger son, but the sole heir of the Clamerans.

The corporal of the gendarmes had said:

“I would not be the one to tell the poor old man that his son is drowned.”

Louis felt none of the tenderhearted scruples of the brave old soldier. He instantly went to his father’s sickroom, and said, in a firm voice:

“My brother had to choose between disgrace and death; he is dead.”

Like a sturdy oak stricken by lightning, the marquis tottered and fell when these fatal words sounded in his ears. The doctor soon arrived, but alas! only to say that science was of no avail.

Toward daybreak, Louis, without a tear, received his father’s last sigh.

Louis was now the master.

All the unjust precautions taken by the marquis to elude the law, and insure beyond dispute the possession of his entire fortune to his eldest son, turned against him.

By means of a fraudulent deed of trust drawn by his dishonest lawyer, M. de Clameran had disposed everything so that, on the day of his death, every farthing he owned would be Gaston’s.

Louis alone was benefited by this precaution. He came into possession without even being called upon for the certificate of his brother’s death.

He was now Marquis of Clameran; he was free, he was comparatively rich. He who had never had twenty-five crowns in his pocket at once, now found himself the possessor of two hundred thousand francs.

This sudden, unexpected fortune so completely turned his head that he forgot his skilful dissimulation. His demeanor at the funeral of the marquis was much censured. He followed the coffin, with his head bowed and his face buried in a handkerchief; but this did not conceal the buoyancy of his spirit, and the joy which sparkled in his eyes.

The day after the funeral, Louis sold everything that he could dispose of, horses, carriages, and family plate.

The next day he discharged all the old servants, who had hoped to end their days beneath the hospitable roof of Clameran. Several, with tears in their eyes, took him aside, and entreated him to let them stay without wages. He roughly ordered them to be gone, and never appear before his eyes again.

He sent for his father’s lawyer, and gave him a power of attorney to sell the estate, and received in return the sum of twenty thousand francs as the first payment in advance.

At the close of the week, he locked