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

"Now," Said He,  "Go Ahead And Tell Me All The Details Of The Poison

And The Grapes The Marshal Of The Court Brought.  I'm Listening."

Rouletabille Told Him Very Briefly And Without Drawing Any Deductions

All That We Already Know.  He Ended His Account As A Man Dressed In

A Maroon Coat With False Astrakhan Was Introduced.  It Was The Same

Man Rouletabille Had Met In General Trebassof's Drawing-Room And Who

Spoke French.  Two Gendarmes Were Behind Him.  The Door Had Been

Closed.  Koupriane Turned Toward The Man In The Coat.

"Touman," He Said,  "I Want To Talk To You.  You Are A Traitor,  And

I Have Proof.  You Can Confess To Me,  And I Will Give You A Thousand

Roubles And You Can Take Yourself Off To Be Hanged Somewhere Else."

The Man's Eyes Shrank,  But He Recovered Himself Quickly.  He Replied

In Russian.

"Speak French.  I Order It," Commanded Koupriane.

"I Answer,  Your Excellency," Said Touman Firmly,  "That I Don't

Know What Your Excellency Means."

"I Mean That You Have Helped A Man Get Into The Trebassof Villa By

Night When You Were On Guard Under The Window Of The Little

Sitting-Room.  You See That There Is No Use Deceiving Us Any Longer.

I Play With You Frankly,  Good Play,  Good Money.  The Name Of That

Man,  And You Have A Thousand Roubles."

"I Am Ready To Swear On The Ikon Of..."

"Don't Perjure Yourself."

"I Have Always Loyally Served..."

"The Name Of That Man."

"I Still Don't Know Yet What Your Excellency Means."

"Oh,  You Understand Me," Replied Koupriane,  Who Visibly Held In An

Anger That Threatened To Break Forth Any Moment.  "A Man Got Into

The House While You Were Watching..."

"I Never Saw Anything.  After All,  It Is Possible.  There Were Some

Very Dark Nights.  I Went Back And Forth."

"You Are Not A Fool.  The Name Of That Man."

"I Assure You,  Excellency..."

"Strip Him."

"What Are You Going To Do?" Cried Rouletabille.

But Already The Two Guards Had Thrown Themselves On Touman And Had

Drawn Off His Coat And Shirt.  The Man Was Bare To The Waist.

"What Are You Going To Do?  What Are You Going To Do?"

"Leave Them Alone," Said Koupriane,  Roughly Pushing Rouletabille

Back.

Seizing A Whip Which Hung At The Waist Of The Guards He Struck

Touman A Blow Across The Shoulders That Drew Blood.  Touman,  Mad

With The Outrage And The Pain,  Shouted,  "Yes,  It Is True!  I Brag

Of It!"

Koupriane Did Not Restrain His Rage.  He Showered The Unhappy Man

With Blows,  Having Thrown Rouletabille To The End Of The Room When

He Tried To Interfere.  And While He Proceeded With The Punishment

The Chief Of Police Hurled At The Agent Who Had Betrayed Him An

Accompaniment Of Fearful Threats,  Promising Him That Before He Was

Hanged He Should Rot In The Bottom-Most Dungeon Of Peter And Paul,

In The Slimy Pits Lying Under The Neva.  Touman,  Between The Two

Guards Who Held Him,  And Who Sometimes Received Blows On The Rebound

That Were Not Intended For Them,  Never Uttered A Complaint.  Outside

The Invectives Of Koupriane There Was Heard Only The Swish Of The

Cords And The Cries Of Rouletabille,  Who Continued To Protest That

It Was Abominable,  And Called The Chief Of Police A Savage.  Finally

The Savage Stopped.  Gouts Of Blood Had Spattered All About.

"Monsieur," Said Rouletabille,  Who Supported Himself Against The

Wall.  "I Shall Complain To The Tsar."

"You Are Right," Koupriane Replied,  "But I Feel Relieved Now.  You

Can't Imagine The Harm This Man Can Have Done To Us In The Weeks

He Has Been Here."

Touman,  Across Whose Shoulders They Had Thrown His Coat And Who

Lay Now Across A Chair,  Found Strength To Look Up And Say:

"It Is True.  You Can't Do Me As Much Harm As I Have Done You,

Whether You Think So Or Not.  All The Harm That Can Be Done Me

By You And Yours Is Already Accomplished.  My Name Is Not Touman,

But Matiev.  Listen.  I Had A Son That Was The Light Of My Eyes.

Neither My Son Nor I Had Ever Been Concerned With Politics.  I Was

Employed In Moscow.  My Son Was A Student.  During The Red Week We

Went Out,  My Son And I,  To See A Little Of What Was Happening Over

In The Presnia Quarter.  They Said Everybody Had Been Killed Over

There!  We Passed Before The Presnia Gate.  Soldiers Called To Us

To Stop Because They Wished To Search Us.  We Opened Our Coats.

The Soldiers Saw My Son's Student Waistcoat And Set Up A Cry.  They

Unbuttoned The Vest,  Drew A Note-Book Out Of His Pocket And They

Found A Workman's Song In It That Had Been Published In The Signal.

The Soldiers Didn't Know How To Read.  They Believed The Paper Was

A Proclamation,  And They Arrested My Son.  I Demanded To Be Arrested

With Him.  They Pushed Me Away.  I Ran To The Governor's House.

Trebassof Had Me Thrust Away From His Door With Blows From The

Butt-Ends Of His Cossacks' Guns.  And,  As I Persisted,  They Kept Me

Locked Up All That Night And The Morning Of The Next Day.  At Noon

I Was Set Free.  I Demanded My Son And They Replied They Didn't Know

What I Was Talking About.  But A Soldier That I Recognized As Having

Arrested My Son The Evening Before Pointed Out A Van That Was Passing,

Covered With A Tarpaulin And Surrounded By Cossacks.  'Your Son Is

There,' He Said; 'They Are Taking Him To The Graves.' Mad With

Despair,  I Ran After The Van.  It Went To The Outskirts Of

Golountrine Cemetery.  There I Saw In The White Snow A Huge Grave,

Wide,  Deep.  I Shall See It To My Last Minute.  Two Vans Had Already

Stopped Near The Hole.  Each Van Held Thirteen Corpses.  The Vans

Were Dumped Into The Trench And The Soldiers Commenced To Sort The

Bodies Into Rows Of Six.  I Watched For My Son.  At Last I Recognized

Him In A Body That Half Hung Over The Edge Of The Trench.  Horrors

Of Suffering Were Stamped In The Expression Of His Face.  I Threw

Myself Beside Him.  I Said That I Was His Father.  They Let Me

Embrace Him A Last Time And Count His Wounds.  He Had Fourteen.

Someone Had Stolen The Gold Chain That Had Hung About His Neck And

Held The Picture Of His Mother,  Who Died The Year Before.  I

Whispered Into His Ear,  I Swore To Avenge Him.  Forty-Eight Hours

Later I Had Placed Myself At The Disposition Of The Revolutionary

Committee.  A Week Had Not Passed Before Touman,  Whom,  It Seems,

I Resemble And Who Was One Of The Secret Service Agents In Kiew,

Was Assassinated In The Train That Was Taking Him To St. Petersburg.

The Assassination Was Kept A Secret.  I Received All His Papers And

I Took His Place With You.  I Was Doomed Beforehand And I Asked

Nothing Better,  So Long As I Might Last Until After The Execution

Of Trebassof.  Ah,  How I Longed To Kill Him With My Own Hands!  But

Another Had Already Been Assigned The Duty And My Role Was To Help

Him.  And Do You Suppose I Am Going To Tell You The Name Of That

Other?  Never!  And If You Discover That Other,  As You Have

Discovered Me,  Another Will Come,  And Another,  And Another,  Until

Trebassof Has Paid For His Crimes.  That Is All I Have To Say To

You,  Koupriane.  As For You,  My Little Fellow," Added He,  Turning

To Rouletabille,  "I Wouldn't Give Much For Your Bones.  Neither Of

You Will Last Long.  That Is My Consolation."

Koupriane Had Not Interrupted The Man.  He Looked At Him In Silence,

Sadly.

"You Know,  My Poor Man,  You Will Be Hanged Now?" He Said.

"No," Growled Rouletabille.  "Monsieur Koupriane,  I'll Bet You My

Purse That He Will Not Be Hanged."

"And Why Not?" Demanded The Chief Of Rolice,  While,  Upon A Sign

From Him,  They Took Away The False Touman.

"Because It Is I Who Denounced Him."

"What A Reason!  And What Would You Like Me To Do?"

"Guard Him For Me; For Me Alone,  Do You Understand?"

"In Exchange For What?"

"In Exchange For The Life Of General Trebassof,  If I Must Put It

That Way."

"Eh?  The Life Of General Trebassof!  You Speak As If It Belonged

To You,  As If You Could Dispose Of It."

Rouletabille Laid His Hand On Koupriane's Arm.

"Perhaps That's So," Said He.

"Would You Like Me To Tell You One Thing,  Monsieur Rouletabille?

It Is That General Trebassof's Life,  After What Has Just Escaped

The Lips Of This Touman,  Who Is Not Touman,  Isn't Worth Any More

Than - Than Yours If You Remain Here.  Since You Are Disposed Not

To Do Anything More In This Affair,  Take The Train,  Monsieur,  Take

The Train,  And Go."

Rouletabille Walked Back And Forth,  Very Much Worked Up; Then

Suddenly He Stopped Short.

"Impossible," He Said.  "It Is Impossible.  I Cannot; I Am Not Able

To Go Yet."

"Why?"

"Good God,  Monsieur Koupriane,  Because I Have To Interview The

President Of The Duma Yet,  And Complete My Little Inquiry Into The

Politics Of The Cadets."

"Oh,  Indeed!"

Koupriane Looked At Him With A Sour Grin.

"What Are You Going To Do With That Man?" Demanded Rouletabille.

"Have Him Fixed Up First."

"And Then?"

"Then Take Him Before The Judges."

"That Is To Say,  To The Gallows?"

"Certainly."

"Monsieur Koupriane,  I Offer It To You Again.  Life For Life.  Give

Me The Life Of That Poor Devil And I Promise You General Trebassof's."

"Explain Yourself."

"Not At All.  Do You Promise