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

"Yes,  Yes," Said Rouletabille,  Vaguely,  As Though He Were Already

Far Removed From The Contingencies Of This World.  "I Know That

Czar Alexander Ii Sometimes Found Under His Napkin A Letter

Announcing His Condemnation To Death."

"Monsieur,  At The Chateau Yesterday Morning Something Happened That

Is Perhaps More Alarming Than The Letter Found By Alexander Ii

Under His Napkin."

"What Can It Be?  Have Bombs Been Discovered?"

"No.  It Is A Bizarre Occurrence And Almost Unbelievable.  The

Eider Downs,  All The Eider Down Coverings Belonging To The Imperial

Family Disappeared Yesterday Morning."*

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  * Historically Authentic.

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"Surely Not!"

"It Is Just As I Say.  And It Was Impossible To Learn What Had

Become Of Them - Until Yesterday Evening,  When They Were Found Again

In Their Proper Places In The Chambers.  That Is The New Mystery!"

"Certainly.  But How Were They Taken Out?"

"Shall We Ever Know?  All We Found Was Two Feathers,  This Morning,

In The Boudoir Of The Empress,  Which Leads Us To Think That The

Eider Downs Were Taken Out That Way.  I Am Taking The Two Feathers

To Koupriane."

"Let Me See Them," Asked The Reporter.

Rouletabille Looked Them Over And Handed Them Back.

"And What Do You Think The Whole Affair Means?"

"We Are Inclined To Regard It As A Threat By The Revolutionaries.

If They Can Carry Away The Eider Downs,  It Would Be Quite As Easy

For Them To Carry Away..."

"The Imperial Family?  No,  I Don't Think It Is That."

"What Do You Mean,  Then?"

"I?  Nothing Any More.  Not Only Do I Not Think Any More,  But I

Don't Wish To.  Tell Me,  Monsieur Le Grand Marechal,  It Is Useless,

I Suppose,  To Try To See His Majesty Before I Go?"

"What Good Would It Do,  Monsieur?  We Know Everything Now.  This

Natacha That You Defended Against Koupriane Is Proved The Culprit.

The Last Affair Does Not Leave That In Any Reasonable Doubt.  And

She Is Taken Care Of From This Time On.  His Majesty Wishes Never

To Hear Natacba Spoken Of Again Under Any Pretext."

"And What Are You Going To Do With That Young Girl?"

"The Tsar Has Decided That There Shall Not Be Any Trial And That

The Daughter Of General Trebassof Shall Be Sent,  By Administrative

Order,  To Siberia.  The Tsar,  Monsieur,  Is Very Good,  For He Might

Have Had Her Hanged.  She Deserved It."

"Yes,  Yes,  The Tsar Is Very Good."

"You Are Very Absorbed,  Monsieur Rouletabille,  And You Are Not

Eating."

"I Have No Appetite,  Monsieur Le Marechal.  Tell Me,- The Emperor

Must Be Rather Bored At Tsarskoie-Coelo?"

"Oh,  He Has Plenty Of Work.  He Rises At Seven O'clock And Has A

Light English Luncheon - Tea And Toast.  At Eight O'clock He Starts

And Works Till Ten.  From Ten To Eleven He Promenades."

"In The Jail-Yard?" Asked Rouletabille Innocently.

"What's That You Say?  "Ah,  You Are An Enfant Terrible!  Certainly

We Do Well To Send You Away.  Until Eleven He Promenades In A

Pathway Of The Park.  From Eleven To One He Holds Audience; Luncheon

At One; Then He Spends The Time Until Half-Past Two With His Family."

"What Does He Eat?"

"Soup.  His Majesty Is Wonderfully Fond Of Soup.  He Takes It At

Every Meal.  After Luncheon He Smokes,  But Never A Cigar - Always

Cigarettes,  Gifts Of The Sultan; And He Only Drinks One Liqueur,

Maraschino.  At Half-Past Two He Goes Out Again For A Little Air

- Always In His Park; Then He Sets Himself To Work Until Eight

O'clock.  It Is Simply Frightful Work,  With Heaps Of Useless

Papers And Numberless Signatures.  No Secretary Can Spare Him That

Ungrateful Bureaucratic Duty.  He Must Sign,  Sign,  Sign,  And Read,

Read,  Read The Reports.  And It Is Work Without Any Beginning Or

End; As Soon As Some Reports Go,  Others Arrive.  At Eight O'clock,

Dinner,  And Then More Signatures,  Working Right Up To Eleven O'clock.

At Eleven O'clock He Goes To Bed."

"And He Sleeps To The Rhythmical Tramp Of The Guards On Patrol,"

Added Rouletabille,  Bluntly.

"O Young Man,  Young Man!"

"Pardon Me,  Monsieur Le Grand Marechal," Said The Reporter,  Rising;

"I Am,  Indeed,  A Disturbing Spirit And I Know That I Have Nothing

More To Do In This Country.  You Will Not See Me Any More,  Monsieur

Le Grand Marechal; But Before Leaving I Ought To Tell You How Much

I Have Been Touched By The Hospitality Of Your Great Nation.  That

Hospitality Is Sometimes A Little Dangerous,  But It Is Always

Magnificent.  No Other Nation In The World Knows Like The Russians

How To Receive A Man,  Your Excellency.  I Speak As I Feel; And That

Isn't Affected By My Manner Of Quitting You,  For You Know Also How

To Put A Man To The Door.  Adieu,  Then; Without Any Rancor.  My

Most Respectful Homage To His Majesty.  Ah,  Just One Word More!

You Will Recall That Natacha Feodorovna Was Engaged To Poor Boris

Mourazoff,  Still Another Young Man Who Has Disappeared And Who,

Before Disappearing,  Charged Me To Deliver To General Trebassof's

Daughter This Last Token - These Two Little Ikons.  I Entrust You

With This Mission,  Monsieur Le Grand Marechal.  Your Servant,

Excellency."

Rouletabille Re-Descended The Great Kaniouche.  "Now," Said He To

Himself,  "It Is My Turn To Buy Farewell Presents."  And He Made His

Way Slowly Across La Place Des Grandes-Ecuries And The Bridge Of

The Katharine Canal.  He Entered Aptiekarski-Pereoulok And Pushed

Open Pere Alexis's Door,  Under The Arch,  At The Back Of The Obscure

Court.

"Health And Prosperity,  Alexis Hutch!"

"Ah,  You Again,  Little Man!  Well?  Koupriane Has Let You Know The

Result Of My Analyses?"

"Yes,  Yes.  Tell Me,  Alexis Hutch,  You Are Sure You Are Not

Mistaken?  You Don't Think You Might Be Mistaken?  Think Carefully

Before You Answer.  It Is A Question Of Life Or Death."

"For Whom?"

"For Me."

"For You,  Good Little Friend!  You Want To Make Your Old Pere

Lexis Laugh - Or Weep!"

"Answer Me."

"No,  I Couldn't Be Mistaken.  The Thing Is As Certain As That We

Two Are Here - Arsenate Of Soda In The Stains On The Two Napkins

And Traces Of Arsenate Of Soda In Two Of The Four Glasses; None

In The Carafe,  None In The Little Bottle,  None In The Two Glasses.

I Say It Before You And Before God."

"So It Is Really True.  Thank You,  Alexis Hutch.  Koupriane Has Not

Tried To Deceive Me.  There Has Been Nothing Of That Sort.  Well,

Do You Know,  Alexis Hutch,  Who Has Poured The Poison?  It Is She

Or I.  And As It Is Not I,  It Is She.  And Since It Is She,  Well,

I Am Going To Die!"

"You Love Her,  Then?" Inquired Pere Alexis.

"No," Replied Rouletabille,  With A Self-Mocking Smile.  "No,  I Don't

Love Her.  But If It Is She Who Poured The Poison,  Then It Was Not

Michael Nikolaievitch,  And It Is I Who Had Michael Nikolaievitch

Killed.  You Can See Now That Therefore I Must Die.  Show Me Your

Finest Images.

"Ah,  My Little One,  If You Will Permit Your Old Alexis To Make You

A Gift,  I Would Offer You These Two Poor Ikons That Are Certainly

From The Convent Of Troitza At Its Best Period.  See How Beautiful

They Are,  And Old.  Have You Ever Seen So Beautiful A Mother Of

God?  And This St. Luke,  Would You Believe That The Hand Had Been

Mended,  Eh?   Two Little Masterpieces,  Little Friend!  If The Old

Masters Of Salonika Returned To The World They Would Be Satisfied

With Their Pupils At Troitza.  But You Mustn't Kill Yourself At

Your Age!"

"Come,  Bat Ouclzka (Little Father),  I Accept Your Gift,  And,  If I

Meet The Old Salonican Masters On The Road I Am Going To Travel,

I Shan't Fail To Tell Them There Is No Person Here Below Who

Appreciates Them Like A Certain Pere Of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok,

Alexis Hutch."

So Saying Rouletabille Wrapped Up The Two Little Ikons And Put Them

In His Pocket.  The Saint Luke Would Be Sure To Appeal To His

Friend Sainclair.  As To The Mother Of God,  That Would Be His Dying

Gift To The Dame En Noir.

"Ah,  You Are Sad,  Little Son; And Your Voice,  As It Sounds Now,

Hurts Me."

Rouletabille Turned His Head At The Sound Of Two Moujiks Who Entered,

Carrying A Long Basket.

"What Do You Want?" Demanded Pere Alexis In Russian,  "And What Is

That You Are Bringing In?  Do You Intend To Fill That Huge Basket

With My Goods?  In That Case You Are Very Welcome And I Am Your

Humble Servant."

But The Two Chuckled.

"Yes,  Yes,  We Have Come To Rid Your Shop Of A Wretched Piece Of

Goods That Litters It."

"What Is This You Say?" Inquired The Old Man,  Anxiously,  And

Drawing Near Rouletabille.  "Little Friend,  Watch These Men; I

Don't Recognize Their Faces And I Can't Understand Why They Have

Come Here."

Rouletabille Looked At The New-Comers,  Who Drew Near The Counter,

After Depositing Their Long Basket Close To The Door.  There Was

A Sarcastic And Malicious Mocking Way About Them That Struck Him

From The First.  But While They Kept Up Their Jabbering With Pere

Alexis He Filled His Pipe And Proceeded To Light It.  Just Then The

Door Was Pushed Open Again And Three Men Entered,  Simply Dressed,

Like Respectable Small Merchants.  They Also Acted Curiously And

Looked All Around The Shop.  Pere Alexis Grew More And More Alarmed