The Secret Of The Night(Fiscle Part 3) by Gaston Leroux (readera ebook reader txt) 📕

Boris,  "Married Her For Her Great Beauty.  She Was A Beautiful Girl

Of The Caucasus,  Of Excellent Family Besides,  That Feodor

Feodorovitch Had Known When He Was In Garrison At Tiflis."

"In Short," Said Rouletabille,  "The Day That General Trebassof Dies

Madame Trebassof,  Who Now Possesses Everything,  Will Have Nothing,

And The Daughter,  Who Now Has Nothing,  Will Have Everything."

"Exactly That," Said Michael.

"That Doesn't Keep Matrena Petrovna And Natacha Feodorovna From

Deeply Loving Each Other," Observed Boris.

The Little Party Drew Near The "Point."  So Far The Promenade Had

Been Along Pleasant Open Country,  Among The Low Meadows Traversed

By Fresh Streams,  Across Which Tiny Bridges Had Been Built,  Among

Bright Gardens Guarded By Porcelain Dwarfs,  Or In The Shade Of

Small Weeds From The Feet Of Whose Trees The Newly-Cut Grass Gave

A Seasonal Fragrance.  All Was Reflected In The Pools - Which Lay

Like Glass Whereon A Scene-Painter Had Cut The Green Hearts Of The

Pond-Lily Leaves.  An Adorable Country Glimpse Which Seemed To Have

Been Created Centuries Back For The Amusement Of A Queen And

Preserved,  Immaculately Trimmed And Cleaned,  From Generation To

Generation,  For The Eternal Charm Of Such An Hour As This On The

Banks Of The Gulf Of Finland.

Now They Had Reached The Bank Of The Gulf,  And The Waves Rippled To

The Prows Of The Light Ships,  Which Dipped Gracefully Like Huge And

Rapid Sea-Gulls,  Under The Pressure Of Their Great White Sails.

Along The Roadway,  Broader Now,  Glided,  Silently And At Walking

Pace,  The Double File Of Luxurious Equipages With Impatient Horses,

The Open Carriages In Which The Great Personages Of The Court Saw

The View And Let Themselves Be Seen.  Enormous Coachmen Held The

Reins High.  Lively Young Women,  Negligently Reclining Against The

Cushions,  Displayed Their New Paris Toilettes,  And Kept Young

Officers On Horseback Busy With Salutes.  There Were All Kinds Of

Uniforms.  No Talking Was Heard.  Everyone Was Kept Busy Looking.

There Rang In The Pure,  Thin Air Only The Noise Of The Champing Bits

And The Tintinnabulation Of The Bells Attached To The Hairy Finnish

Ponies' Collars.  And All That,  So Beautiful,  Fresh,  Charming And

Clear,  And Silent,  It All Seemed More A Dream Than Even That Which

Hung In The Pools,  Suspended Between The Crystal Of The Air And The

Crystal Of The Water.  The Transparence Of The Sky And The

Transparence Of The Gulf Blended Their Two Unrealities So That One

Could Not Note Where The Horizons Met.

Rouletabille Looked At The View And Looked At The General,  And In

All His Young Vibrating Soul There Was A Sense Of Infinite Sadness,

For He Recalled Those Terrible Words In The Night: "They Have Gone

Into All The Corners Of The Russian Land,  And They Have Not Found

A Single Corner Of That Land Where There Are Not Moanings."  "Well,"

Thought He,  "They Have Not Come Into This Corner,  Apparently.  I

Don't Know Anything Lovelier Or Happier In The World."  No,  No,

Rouletabille,  They Have Not Come Here.  In Every Country There Is

A Corner Of Happy Life,  Which The Poor Are Ashamed To Approach,

Which They Know Nothing Of,  And Of Which Merely The Sight Would

Turn Famished Mothers Enraged,  With Their Thin Bosoms,  And,  If It

Is Not More Beautiful Than That,  Certainly No Part Of The Earth Is

Made So Atrocious To Live In For Some,  Nor So Happy For Others As

In This Scythian Country,  The Boreal Country Of The World.

Meanwhile The Little Group About The General's Rolling-Chair Had

Attracted Attention.  Some Passers-By Saluted,  And The News Spread

Quickly That General Trebassof Had Come For A Promenade To "The

Point."  Heads Turned As Carriages Passed; The General,  Noticing

How Much Excitement His Presence Produced,  Begged Matrena Petrovna

To Push His Chair Into An Adjacent By-Path,  Behind A Shield Of

Trees Where He Would Be Able To Enjoy The Spectacle In Peace.

He Was Found,  Nevertheless,  By Koupriane,  The Chief Of Police,  Who

Was Looking For Him.  He Had Gone To The Datcha And Been Told

There That The General,  Accompanied By His Friends And The Young

Frenchman,  Had Gone For A Turn Along The Gulf.  Koupriane Had Left

His Carriage At The Datcha,  And Taken The Shortest Route After Them.

He Was A Fine Man,  Large,  Solid,  Clear-Eyed.  His Uniform Showed

His Fine Build To Advantage.  He Was Generally Liked In St.

Petersburg,  Where His Martial Bearing And His Well-Known Bravery

Had Given Him A Sort Of Popularity In Society,  Which,  On The Other

Hand,  Had Great Disdain For Gounsovski,  The Head Of The Secret

Police,  Who Was Known To Be Capable Of Anything Underhanded And

Had Been Accused Of Sometimes Playing Into The Hands Of The

Nihilists,  Whom He Disguised As Agents-Provocateurs,  Without

Anybody Really Doubting It,  And He Had To Fight Against These

Widespread Political Suspicions.

Well-Informed Men Declared That The Death Of The Previous "Prime

Minister," Who Had Been Blown Up Before Varsovie Station When He Was

On His Way To The Tsar At Peterhof,  Was Gounsovski's Work And That

In This He Was The Instrument Of The Party At Court Which Had Sworn

The Death Of The Minister Which Inconvenienced It.* On The Other

Hand,  Everyone Regarded Koupriane As Incapable Of Participating In

Any Such Horrors And That He Contented Himself With Honest

Performance Of His Obvious Duties,  Confining Himself To Ridding The

Streets Of Its Troublesome Elements,  And Sending To Siberia As Many

As He Could Of The Hot-Heads,  Without Lowering Himself To The

Compromises Which,  More Than Once,  Had Given Grounds For The Enemies

Of The Empire To Maintain That It Was Difilcult To Say Whether The

Chiefs Of The Russian Police Played The Part Of The Law Or That Of

The Revolutionary Party,  Even That The Police Had Been At The End

Of A Certain Time Of Such Mixed Procedure Hardly Able To Decide

Themselves Which They Did.

____________________________________________________________________

Rumored Cause Of Plehve's Assassination.

____________________________________________________________________

This Afternoon Koupriane Appeared Very Nervous.  He Paid His

Compliments To The General,  Grumbled At His Imprudence,  Praised Him

For His Bravery,  And Then At Once Picked Out Rouletabille,  Whom He

Took Aside To Talk To.

"You Have Sent My Men Back To Me," Said He To The Young Reporter.

"You Understand That I Do Not Allow That.  They Are Furious,  And

Quite Rightly.  You Have Given Publicly As Explanation Of Their

Departure - A Departure Which Has Naturally Astonished,  Stupefied

The General's Friends - The Suspicion Of Their Possible Participation

In The Last Attack.  That Is Abominable,  And I Will Not Permit It.

My Men Have Not Been Trained In The Methods Of Gounsovski,  And It

Does Them A Cruel Injury,  Which I Resent,  For That Matter,

Personally,  To Treat Them This Way.  But Let That Go,  As A Matter

Of Sentiment,  And Return To The Simple Fact Itself,  Which Proves

Your Excessive Imprudence,  Not To Say More,  And Which Involves You,

You Alone,  In A Responsibility Of Which You Certainly Have Not

Measured The Importance.  All In All,  I Consider That You Have

Strangely Abused The Complete Authority That I Gave You Upon The

Emperor's Orders.  When I Learned What You Had Done I Went To Find

The Tsar,  As Was My Duty,  And Told Him The Whole Thing.  He Was More

Astonished Than Can Be Expressed.  He Directed Me To Go Myself To

Find Out Just How Things Were And To Furnish The General The Guard

You Had Removed.  I Arrive At The Isles And Not Only Find The Villa

Open Like A Mill Where Anyone May Enter,  But I Am Informed,  And Then

I See,  That The General Is Promenading In The Midst Of The Crowd,

At The Mercy Of The First Miserable Venturer.  Monsieur Rouletabille,

I Am Not Satisfied.  The Tsar Is Not Satisfied.  And,  Within An Hour,

My Men Will Return To Assume Their Guard At The Datcha."

Rouletabille Listened To The End.  No One Ever Had Spoken To Him In

That Tone.  He Was Red,  And As Ready To Burst As A Child's Balloon

Blown Too Hard.  He Said:

"And I Will Take The Train This Evening."

"You Will Go?"

"Yes,  And You Can Guard Your General All Alone. I Have Had Enough

Of It.  Ah,  You Are Not Satisfied!  Ah,  The Tsar Is Not Satisfied!

It Is Too Bad.  No More Of It For Me.  Monsieur,  I Am Not Satisfied,

And I Say Good-Evening To You.  Only Do Not Forget To Send Me From

Here Every Three Or Four Days A Letter Which Will Keep Me Informed

Of The Health Of The General,  Whom I Love Dearly.  I Will Offer Up

A Little Prayer For Him."

Thereupon He Was Silent,  For He Caught The Glance Of Matrena

Petrovna,  A Glance So Desolated,  So Imploring,  So Desperate,  That

The Poor Woman Inspired Him Anew With Great Pity.  Natacha Had Not

Returned.  What Was The Young Girl Doing At That Moment?  If Matrena

Really Loved Natacha She Must Be Suffering Atrociously.  Koupriane

Spoke; Rouletabille Did Not Hear Him,  And He Had Already Forgotten

His Own Anger.  His Spirit Was Wrapped In The Mystery.

"Monsieur," Koupriane Finished By Saying,  Tugging His Sleeve,  "Do

You Hear Me?  I Pray You At Least Reply To Me.  I Offer All Possible

Excuses For Speaking To You In That Tone.  I Reiterate Them.  I Ask

Your Pardon.  I Pray You To Explain Your Conduct,  Which Appeared

Imprudent To Me But Which,  After All,  Should Have Some Reason.  I

Have To Explain To The Emperor.  Will You Tell Me?  What Ought I To

Say To The Emperor?"

"Nothing At All," Said Rouletabille.  "I Have No Explanation To

Give You Or The Emperor,  Or To Anyone.  You Can Offer Him My Utmost

Homage And Do Me The Kindness To Vise My Passport For This Evening."

And He Sighed:

"It Is Too Bad,  For We Were Just About To See Something Interesting."

Koupriane Looked At Him.  Rouletabille Had Not Quitted Matrena

Petrovna's Eyes,  And Her Pallor Struck Koupriane.

"Just A Minute," Continued The Young Man.  "I'm Sure There Is

Someone Who Will Miss Me - That Brave Woman There.  Ask Her Which

She Prefers,  All Your Police,  Or Her Dear Little Domovoi.  We Are

Good Friends Already.  And - Don't Forget To Present My Condolences

To Her When The Terrible Moment Has Come."

It Was Koupriane's Turn To Be Troubled.