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

Little Black Spot Jumped From It Like A Flea.  Koupriane Recognized

The Little Black Spot As Kathanna.  She Was Safe.  Now He Could Not

Reach Her.  It Would Be Useless To Search The Maze Of The Bohemian

Quarter,  Where Her Country-People Lived In Full Control,  With

Customs And Privileges That Had Never Been Infringed.  The Entire

Bohemian Population Of The Capital Would Have Risen Against Him.

It Was Prince Galitch Who Had Made Him Fail.  One Of His Men Came

To Him:

"No Luck," Said He.  "We Have Not Found Katharina,  But She Has Been

Here Nevertheless.  She Met Prince Galitch For Just A Minute,  And

Gave Him Something,  Then Went Over The Other Side Into A Canoe."

"Very Well," And The Prefect Shrugged His Shoulders.  "I Was Sure Of

It."

He Felt More And More,  Exasperated.  He Went Down Along The River

Edge And The First Person He Saw Was Rouletabille,  Who Waited For

Him Without Any Impatience,  Seated Philosophically On A Bench.

"I Was Looking For You," Cried The Prefect.  "We Have Failed.  By

Your Fault!  If You Had Not Thrown Yourself Into My Arms -"

"I Did It On Purpose," Declared The Reporter.

"What!  What Is That You Say? You Did It On Purpose?"

Koupriane Choked With Rage.

"Your Excellency," Said Rouletabille,  Taking Him By The Arm,  "Calm

Yourself.  They Are Watching Us.  Come Along And Have A Cup Of Tea

At Cubat's Place.  Easy Now,  As Though We Were Out For A Walk."

"Will You Explain To Me?"

"No,  No,  Your Excellency.  Remember That I Have Promised You General

Trebassof's Life In Exchange For Your Prisoner's.  Very Well; By

Throwing Myself In Your Arms And Keeping You From Reaching Katharina,

I Saved The General's Life.  It Is Very Simple."

"Are You Laughing At Me?  Do You Think You Can Mock Me?"

But The Prefect Saw Quickly That Rouletabille Was Not Fooling And

Had No Mockery In His Manner.

"Monsieur," He Insisted,  "Since You Speak Seriously,  I Certainly

Wish To Understand -"

"It Is Useless," Said Rouletabille.  "It Is Very Necessary That You

Should Not Understand."

"But At Least..."

"No,  No,  I Can't Tell You Anything."

"When,  Then,  Will You Tell Me Something To Explain Your Unbelievable

Conduct?"

Rouletabille Stopped In His Tracks And Declared Solemnly:

"Monsieur Koupriane,  Recall What Natacha Feodorovna As She Raised Her

Lovely Eyes To Heaven,  Replied To Her Father,  When He,  Also,  Wished

To Understand:  'Never.'"

At Ten O'clock That Morning Rouletabille Went To The Trebassof

Villa,  Which Had Its Guard Of Secret Agents Again,  A Double Guard,

Because Koupriane Was Sure The Nihilists Would Not Delay In Avenging

Michael's Death.  Rouletabille Was Met By Ermolai,  Who Would Not

Allow Him To Enter.  The Faithful Servant Uttered Some Explanation

In Russian,  Which The Young Man Did Not Understand,  Or,  Rather,

Rouletabille Understood Perfectly From His Manner That Henceforth

The Door Of The Villa Was Closed To Him.  In Vain He Insisted On

Seeing The General,  Matrena Petrovna And Mademoiselle Natacha.

Ermolai Made No Reply But "Niet,  Niet,  Niet."  The Reporter Turned

Away Without Having Seen Anyone,  And Walked Away Deeply Depressed.

He Went Afoot Clear Into The City,  A Long Promenade,  During Which

His Brain Surged With The Darkest Forebodings.  As He Passed By The

Department Of Police He Resolved To See Koupriane Again.  He Went

In,  Gave His Name,  And Was Ushered At Once To The Chief Of Police,

Whom He Found Bent Over A Long Report That He Was Reading Through

With Noticeable Agitation.

"Gounsovski Has Sent Me This," He Said In A Rough Voice,  Pointing

To The Report.  "Gounsovski,  'To Do Me A Service,' Desires Me To

Know That He Is Fully Aware Of All That Happened At The Trebassof

Datcha Last Night.  He Warns Me That The Revolutionaries Have

Decided To Get Through With The General At Once,  And That Two Of

Them Have Been Given The Mission To Enter The Datcha In Any Way

Possible.  They Will Have Bombs Upon Their Bodies And Will Blow

The Bombs And Themselves Up Together As Soon As They Are Beside The

General.  Who Are The Two Victims Designated For This Horrible

Vengeance,  And Who Have Light-Heartedly Accepted Such A Death For

Themselves As Well As For The General?  That Is What We Don't Know.

That Is What We Would Have Known,  Perhaps,  If You Had Not Prevented

Me From Seizing The Papers That Prince Galitch Has Now," Koupriane

Finished,  Turning Hostilely Toward Rouletabille.

Rouletabille Had Turned Pale.

"Don't Regret What Happened To The Papers," He Said.  "It Is I Who

Tell You Not To.  But What You Say Doesn't Surprise Me.  They Must

Believe That Natacha Has Betrayed Them."

"Ah,  Then You Admit At Last That She Really Is Their Accomplice?"

"I Haven't Said That And I Don't Admit It.  But I Know What I Mean,

And You,  You Can't.  Only,  Know This One Thing,  That At The Present

Moment I Am The Only Person Able To Save You In This Horrible

Situation.  To Do That I Must See Natacha At Once.  Make Her

Understand This,  While I Wait At My Hotel For Word.  I'll Not Leave

It."

Rouletabille Saluted Koupriane And Went Out.

Two Days Passed,  During Which Rouletabille Did Not Receive Any Word

From Either Natacha Or Koupriane,  And Tried In Vain To See Them.

He Made A Trip For A Few Hours To Finland,  Going As Far As Pergalovo,

An Isolated Town Said To Be Frequented By The Revolutionaries,  Then

Returned,  Much Disturbed,  To His Hotel,  After Having Written A Last

Letter To Natacha Imploring An Interview.  The Minutes Passed Very

Slowly For Him In The Hotel's Vestibule,  Where He Had Seemed To Have

Taken Up A Definite Residence.

Installed On A Bench,  He Seemed To Have Become Part Of The Hotel

Staff,  And More Than One Traveler Took Him For An Interpreter.

Others Thought He Was An Agent Of The Secret Police Appointed To

Study The Faces Of Those Arriving And Departing.  What Was He

Waiting For,  Then?  Was It For Annouchka To Return For A Luncheon

Or Dinner In That Place That She Sometimes Frequented?  And Did He

At The Same Time Keep Watch Upon Annouchka's Apartments Just Across

The Way?  If That Was So,  He Could Only Bewail His Luck,  For

Annouchka Did Not Appear Either At Her Apartments Or The Hotel,  Or

At The Krestowsky Establishment,  Which Had Been Obliged To Suppress

Her Performance.  Rouletabille Naturally Thought,  In The Latter

Connection,  That Some Vengeance By Gounsovski Lay Back Of This,

Since The Head Of The Secret Service Could Hardly Forget The Way He

Had Been Treated.  The Reporter Could See Already The Poor Singer,

In Spite Of All Her Safeguards And The Favor Of The Imperial Family,

On The Road To The Siberian Steppes Or The Dungeons Of Schlusselbourg.

"My,  What A Country!" He Murmured.

But His Thoughts Soon Quit Annouchka And Returned To The Object Of

His Main Preoccupation.  He Waited For Only One Thing,  And For That

As Soon As Possible - To Have A Private Interview With Natacha.  He

Had Written Her Ten Letters In Two Days,  But They All Remained

Unanswered.  It Was An Answer That He Waited For So Patiently In

The Vestibule Of The Hotel - So Patiently,  But So Nervously,  So

Feverishly.

When The Postman Entered,  Poor Rouletabille's Heart Beat Rapidly.

On That Answer He Waited For Depended The Formidable Part He Meant

To Play Before Quitting Russia.  He Had Accomplished Nothing Up To

Now,  Unless He Could Play His Part In This Later Development.

But The Letter Did Not Come.  The Postman Left,  And The Schwitzar,

After Examining All The Mail,  Made Him A Negative Sign.  Ah,  The

Servants Who Entered,  And The Errand-Boys,  How He Looked At Them!

But They Never Came For Him.  Finally,  At Six O'clock In The Evening

Of The Second Day,  A Man In A Frock-Coat,  With A False Astrakhan

Collar,  Came In And Handed The Concierge A Letter For Joseph

Rouletabille.  The Reporter Jumped Up.  Before The Man Was Out The

Door He Had Torn Open The Letter And Read It.  The Letter Was Not

From Natacha.  It Was From Gounsovski.  This Is What It Said:

"My Dear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille,  If It Will Not Inconvenience

You,  I Wish You Would Come And Dine With Me To-Day.  I Will Look

For You Within Two Hours.  Madame Gounsovski Will Be Pleased To Make

Your Acquaintance.  Believe Me Your Devoted Gounsovski."

Rouletabille Considered,  And Decided:

"I Will Go.  He Ought To Have Wind Of What Is Being Plotted,  And As

For Me,  I Don't Know Where Annoucbka Has Gone.  I Have More To Learn

From Him Than He Has From Me.  Besides,  As Athanase Georgevitch Said,

One May Regret Not Accepting The Head Of The Okrana's Pleasant

Invitation."

From Six O'clock To Seven He Still Waited Vainly For Natacha's

Response.  At Seven O'clock,  He Decided To Dress For The Dinner.

Just As He Rose,  A Messenger Arrived.  There Was Still Another

Letter For Joseph Rouletabille.  This Time It Was From Natacha,  Who

Wrote Him:

"General Trebassof And My Step-Mother Will Be Very Happy To Have

You Come To Dinner To-Day.  As For Myself,  Monsieur,  You Will Pardon

Me The Order Which Has Closed To You For A Number Of Days A Dwelling

Where You Have Rendered Services Which I Shall Not Forget All My

Life."

The Letter Ended With A Vague Polite Formula.  With The Letter In

His Hand The Reporter Sat In Thought.  He Seemed To Be Asking

Himself,  "Is It Fish Or Flesh?"  Was It A Letter Of Thanks Or Of

Menace?  That Was What He Could Not Decide.  Well,