Castles in the Air by Baroness Emmuska Orczy
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Baroness Emmuska Orczy >> Castles in the Air
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Bewildered, I gazed on the winsome apparition before me, and beheld a
young girl, slender as a lily, dressed in a soft, clinging gown which
made her appear more slender still, her fair hair arranged in a tangle
of unruly curls round the dainty oval of her face.
She was exquisite, Sir! And the slenderness of her! You cannot imagine
it! She looked like a young sapling bending to the gale. But what cut
me to the heart was the look of terror and of misery in her face. She
clasped her hands together and the tears gathered in her eyes.
"Go, Sir, go at once!" she murmured under her breath, speaking very
rapidly. "Do not waste a minute, I beg of you! As you value your life,
go before it is too late!"
"But, Mademoiselle," I stammered; for indeed her words and appearance
had roused all my worst fears, but also all my instincts of the
sleuth-hound scenting his quarry.
"Don't argue, I beg of you," continued the lovely creature, who indeed
seemed the prey of overwhelming emotions--fear, horror, pity. "When he
comes back do not let him find you here. I'll explain, I'll know what
to say, only I entreat you--go!"
Sir, I have many faults, but cowardice does not happen to be one of
them, and the more the angel pleaded the more determined was I to see
this business through. I was, of course, quite convinced by now that I
was on the track of M. Aristide Fournier and the English files, and I
was not going to let five thousand francs and the gratitude of the
Minister of Police slip through my fingers so easily.
"Mademoiselle," I rejoined as calmly as I could, "let me assure you
that though your anxiety for me is like manna to a starving man, I
have no fears for my own safety. I have come here in the capacity of a
humble interpreter; I certainly am not worth putting out of the way.
Moreover, I have been paid for my services, and these I will render to
my employer to the best of my capabilities."
"Ah, but you don't know," she retorted, not departing one jot from her
attitude of terror and of entreaty, "you don't understand. This house,
Monsieur," she added in a hoarse whisper, "is nothing but a den of
criminals wherein no honest man or woman is safe."
"Pardon, Mademoiselle," I riposted as lightly and as gallantly as I
could, "I see before me the living proof that angels, at any rate,
dwell therein."
"Alas! Sir," she rejoined, with a heart-rending sigh, "if you mean me,
I am only to be pitied. My dear mother and I are naught but slaves to
the will of my brother, who uses us as tools for his nefarious ends."
"But . . ." I stammered, horrified beyond speech at the vista of
villainy which her words had opened up before me.
"My mother, Sir," she said simply, "is old and ailing; she is dying of
anguish at sight of her son's misdeeds. I would not, could not leave
her, yet I would give my life to see her free from that miscreant's
clutches!"
My whole soul was stirred to its depths by the intensity of passion
which rang through this delicate creature's words. What weird and
awesome mystery of iniquity and of crime lay hid, I wondered, between
these walls? In what tragedy had I thus accidentally become involved
while fulfilling my prosaic duty in the interest of His Majesty's
exchequer? As in a flash it suddenly came to me that perhaps I could
serve both this lovely creature and the Emperor better by going out of
the house now, and lying hidden all the night through somewhere in its
vicinity until in daylight I could locate its exact situation. Then I
could communicate with Leroux at once and procure the apprehension of
this Berty--or Fournier--who apparently was a desperate criminal.
Already a bold plan was taking shape in my brain, and with my mind's
eye I had measured the distance which separated me from the front door
and safety when, in the distance, I heard heavy footsteps slowly
descending the stairs. I looked at my lovely companion, and saw her
eyes gradually dilating with increased horror. She gave a smothered
cry, pressed her handkerchief to her lips, then she murmured hoarsely,
"Too late!" and fled precipitately from the room, leaving me a prey to
mingled emotions such as I had never experienced before.
3.
A moment or two later M. Ernest Berty, or whatever his real name may
have been, entered the room. Whether he had encountered his exquisite
sister on the corridor or the stairs, I could not tell; his face, in
the dim light of the hanging lamp, looked impenetrable and sinister.
"This way, M. Barrot," he said curtly.
Just for one brief moment the thought occurred to me to throw myself
upon him with my whole weight--which was considerable--and make a wild
dash for the front door. But it was more than probable that I should
be intercepted and brought back, after which no doubt I would be an
object of suspicion to these rascals and my life would not be worth an
hour's purchase. With the young girl's warnings ringing in my ears, I
felt that my one chance of safety and of circumventing these criminals
lay in my seeming ingenuousness and complete guileless-ness.
I assumed a perfect professional manner and followed my companion up
the stairs. He ushered me into a room just above the one where I had
been waiting up to now. Three men dressed in rough clothes were
sitting at a table on which stood a couple of tankards and four empty
pewter mugs. My employer offered me a glass of ale, which I declined.
Then we got to work.
At the first words which M. Berty uttered I knew that all my surmises
had been correct. Whether he himself was M. Aristide Fournier, or
another partner of that firm, or some other rascal engaged in
nefarious doings, I could not know; certain it was that through the
medium of cipher words and phrases which he thought were
unintelligible to me, and which he ordered me to interpret into
English, he was giving directions to the three men with regard to the
convoying of contraband cargo over the frontier.
There was much talk of "toys" and "babies"--the latter were to take a
walk in the mountains and to avoid the "thorns"; the "toys" were to be
securely fastened and well protected against water. It was obviously a
case of mules and of the goods, the "thorns" being the customs
officials. By the time that we had finished I was absolutely convinced
in my mind that the cargo was one of English files or razors, for it
was evidently extraordinarily valuable and not at all bulky, seeing
that two "babies" were to carry all the "toys" for a considerable
distance. The men, too, were obviously English. I tried the few words
of Russian that I knew on them, and their faces remained perfectly
blank.
Yes, indeed, I was on the track of M. Aristide Fournier, and of one of
the most important hauls of enemy goods which had ever been made in
France. Not only that. I had also before me one of the most brutish
criminals it had ever been my misfortune to come across. A bully, a
fiend of cruelty. In very truth my fertile brain was seething with
plans for eventually laying that abominable ruffian by the heels:
hanging would be a merciful punishment for such a miscreant. Yes,
indeed, five thousand francs--a goodly sum in those days, Sir--was
practically assured me. But over and above mere lucre there was the
certainty that in a few days' time I should see the light of gratitude
shining out of a pair of lustrous blue eyes, and a winning smile
chasing away the look of fear and of sorrow from the sweetest face I
had seen for many a day.
Despite the turmoil that was raging in my brain, however, I flatter
myself that my manner with the rascals remained consistently calm,
businesslike, indifferent to all save to the work in hand. The
soi-disant Ernest Berty spoke invariably in French, either dictating
his orders or seeking information, and I made verbal translation into
English of all that he said. The seance lasted close upon an hour, and
presently I gathered that the affair was terminated and that I could
consider myself dismissed.
I was about to take my leave, having apparently completed my work,
when M. Ernest Berty called me back with a curt command.
"One moment, M. Barrot," he said.
"At Monsieur's service," I responded blandly.
"As you see," he continued, "these fellows do not know a word of
French. All along the way which they will have to traverse they will
meet friendly outposts, who will report to them on the condition of
the roads and warn them of any danger that might be ahead. Their
ignorance of our language may be a source of infinite peril to them.
They need an interpreter to accompany them over the mountains."
He paused for a moment or two, then added abruptly:
"Would you care to go? The matter is important," he went on quietly,
"and I am willing to pay you. It means a couple of nights' journey--a
halt in the mountains during the day--and there will be ten thousand
francs for you if the 'toys' reach St. Claude safely."
I suppose that something in my face betrayed the eagerness which I
felt. Here was indeed the finger of Providence pointing to the best
means of undoing this abominable criminal. Not that I intended to risk
my neck for any ten thousand francs he chose to offer me, but as the
trusted guide of his ingenuous "babies" I could convoy them--not to
St. Claude, as he blandly believed, but straight into the arms of
Leroux and the customs officials.
"Then that is understood," he said in his usual dictatorial manner,
taking my consent for granted. "Ten thousand francs. And you will
accompany these gentlemen and their 'babies' as far as St. Claude?"
"I am a poor man, Sir," I responded meekly.
"Of course you are," he broke in roughly.
Then from a number of papers which lay upon the table, he selected one
which he held out to me.
"Do you know St. Cergues?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. "It is a short walk from Gex."
"This," he added, pointing to a paper which I had taken from him, "is
a plan of the village and of the Pass of Cergues close by. Study it
carefully. At some point some way up the pass, which I have marked
with a cross, I and my men with the 'babies' will be waiting for you
to-morrow evening at eight o'clock. You cannot possibly fail to find
the spot, for the plan is very accurate and very minute, and it is
less than five hundred metres from the last house at the entrance of
the pass. I shall escort the men until then, and hand them over into
your charge for the mountain journey. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly."
"Very well, then; you may go. The carriage is outside the door. You
know your way."
He dismissed me with a curt nod, and the next two minutes saw me
outside this house of mystery and installed inside the ramshackle
vehicle on my way back to my lodgings.
I was worn out with fatigue and excitement, and I imagine that I slept
most of the way. Certain it is that the journey home was not nearly so
long as the outward one had been. The rain was still coming down
heavily, but I cared nothing about the weather, nothing about fatigue.
My path to fame and fortune had been made easier for me than in my
wildest dreams I would have dared to hope. In the morning I would see
Leroux and make final arrangements for the capture of those impudent
smugglers, and I thought the best way would be for him to meet me and
the "babies" and the "toys" at the very outset of our journey, as I
did not greatly relish the idea of crossing lonely and dangerous
mountain paths in the company of these ruffians.
I reached home without adventure. The vehicle drew up just outside my
lodgings, and I was about to alight when my eyes were attracted by
something white which lay on the front seat of the carriage,
conspicuously placed so that the light from the inside lanthorn fell
full upon it. I had been too tired and too dazed, I suppose, to notice
the thing before, but now, on closer inspection, I saw that it was a
note, and that it was addressed to me: "M. Aristide Barrot,
Interpreter," and below my name were the words: "Very urgent."
I took the note feeling a thrill of excitement running through my
veins at its touch. I alighted, and the vehicle immediately
disappeared into the night. I had only caught one glimpse of the
horses, and none at all of the coachman. Then I went straight into my
room, and by the light of the table lamp I unfolded and read the
mysterious note. It bore no signature, but at the first words I knew
that the writer was none other than the lovely young creature who had
appeared to me like an angel of innocence in the midst of that den of
thieves.
* * * * *
"Monsieur," she had written in a hand which had clearly been trembling
with agitation, "you are good, you are kind; I entreat you to be
merciful. My dear mother, whom I worship, is sick with terror and
misery. She will die if she remains any longer under the sway of that
inhuman monster who, alas! is my own brother. And if I lose her I
shall die, too, for I should no longer have anyone to stand between me
and his cruelties.
"My dear mother has some relations living at St. Claude. She would
have gone to them before now, but my brother keeps us both virtual
prisoners here, and we have no means of arranging for such a perilous
journey for ourselves. Now, by the most extraordinary stroke of good
fortune, my brother will be absent all day to-morrow and the following
night. My dear mother and I feel that God Himself is showing us the
way to our release.
"Will you, can you help us, dear M. Barrot? Mother and I will be at
Gex to-morrow at one hour after sundown. We will lie perdu in the
little Taverne du Roi de Rome, where, if you come to us, you will find
us waiting anxiously. If you can do nothing to help us, we must return
broken-hearted to our hated prison; but something in my heart tells me
that you can help us. All that we want is a vehicle of some sort and
the escort of a brave man like yourself as far as St. Claude, where
our relatives will thank you on their knees for your kindness and
generosity to two helpless, miserable, unprotected women, and I will
kiss your hands in unbounded gratitude and devotion."
* * * * *
It were impossible, Monsieur, to tell you of the varied emotions which
filled my heart when I had perused that heart-rending appeal. All my
instincts of chivalry were aroused. I was determined to do my duty to
these helpless ladies as a man and as a gallant knight. Even before I
finally went to bed I had settled in my mind what I meant to do.
Fortunately it was quite possible for me to reconcile my duties to my
Emperor and those which I owed to myself in the matter of the reward
for the apprehension of the smugglers, with my burning desire to be
the saviour and protector of the lovely creature whose beauty had
inflamed my impressionable heart, and to have my hands kissed by her
in gratitude and devotion.
The next morning Leroux and I were deep in our plans, whilst we sipped
our coffee outside the Crane Chauve. He was beside himself with joy
and excitement at the prospective haul, which would, of course,
redound enormously to his credit, even though the success of the whole
undertaking would be due to my acumen, my resourcefulness and my
pluck. Fortunately I found him not only ready but eager to render me
what assistance he could in the matter of the two ladies who had
thrown themselves so entirely on my protection.
"We might get valuable information out of them," he remarked. "In the
excess of their gratitude they may betray many more secrets and
nefarious doings of the firm of Fournier Freres."
"Which further proves," I remarked, "how deeply you and Monsieur le
Ministre of Police are indebted to me over this affair."
He did not argue the point. Indeed, we were both of us far too much
excited to waste words in useless bickerings. Our plans for the
evening were fairly simple. We both pored over the map which
Fournier-Berty had given me, until we felt that we could reach
blindfolded the spot which had been marked with a cross. We then
arranged that Leroux should betake himself thither with a strong posse
of gendarmes during the day, and lie hidden in the vicinity until such
time as I myself appeared upon the scene, identified my friends of the
night before, parleyed with them for a minute or two, and finally
retired, leaving the law in all its majesty, as represented by Leroux,
to deal with the rascals.
In the meantime I also mapped out for myself my own share in this
night's adventurous work. I had hired a vehicle to take me as far as
St. Cergues; here I intended to leave it at the local inn, and then
proceed on foot up the mountain pass to the appointed spot. As soon as
I had seen the smugglers safely in the hands of Leroux and the
gendarmes, I would make my way back to St. Cergues as rapidly as I
could, step into my vehicle, drive like the wind back to Gex, and
place myself at the disposal of my fair angel and her afflicted
mother.
Leroux promised me that at the customs station on the French frontier
the officials would look after me and the ladies, and that a pair of
fresh horses would be ready to take us straight on to St. Claude,
which, if all was well, we could then reach by daybreak.
Having settled all these matters we parted company, he to arrange his
own affairs with the Commissary of Police and the customs officials,
and I to await with as much patience as I could the hour when I could
start for St. Cergues.
4.
The night--just as I anticipated--promised to be very dark. A thin
drizzle, which wetted the unfortunate pedestrian to the marrow, had
replaced the torrential rain of the previous day.
Twilight was closing in very fast. In the late autumn afternoon I
drove to St. Cergues, after which I left the chaise in the village and
boldly started to walk up the mountain pass. I had studied the map so
carefully that I was quite sure of my way, but though my appointment
with the rascals was for eight o'clock, I wished to reach the
appointed spot before the last flicker of grey light had disappeared
from the sky.
Soon I had left the last house well behind me. Boldly I plunged into
the narrow path. The loneliness of the place was indescribable. Every
step which I took on the stony track seemed to rouse the echoes of the
grim heights which rose precipitously on either side of me, and in my
mind I felt aghast at the extraordinary courage of those men who--like
Aristide Fournier and his gang--chose to affront such obvious and
manifold dangers as these frowning mountain regions held for them for
the sake of paltry lucre.
I had walked, according to my reckoning, just upon five hundred metres
through the gorge, when on ahead I perceived the flicker of lights
which appeared to be moving to and fro. The silence and loneliness no
longer seemed to be absolute. A few metres from where I was men were
living and breathing, plotting and planning, unconscious of the net
which the unerring hand of a skilful fowler had drawn round them and
their misdeeds.
The next moment I was challenged by a peremptory "Halt!" Recognition
followed. M. Ernest Berty, or Aristide Fournier, whichever he was,
acknowledged with a few words my punctuality, whilst through the gloom
I took rapid stock of his little party. I saw the vague outline of
three men and a couple of mules which appeared to be heavily laden.
They were assembled on a flat piece of ground which appeared like a
roofless cavern carved out of the mountain side. The walls of rock
around them afforded them both cover and refuge. They seemed in no
hurry to start. They had the long night before them, so one of them
remarked in English.
However, presently M. Fournier-Berty gave the signal for the start to
be made, he himself preparing to take leave of his men. Just at that
moment my ears caught the welcome sound of the tramping of feet, and
before any of the rascals there could realise what was happening,
their way was barred by Leroux and his gendarmes, who loudly gave the
order, "Hands up, in the name of the Emperor!"
I was only conscious of a confused murmur of voices, of the click of
firearms, of words of command passing to and fro, and of several
violent oaths uttered in the not unfamiliar voice of M. Aristide
Fournier. But already I had spied Leroux. I only exchanged a few words
with him, for indeed my share of the evening's work was done as far as
he was concerned, and I made haste to retrace my steps through the
darkness and the rain along the lonely mountain path toward the goal
where chivalry and manly ardour beckoned to me from afar.
I found my vehicle waiting for me at St. Cergues, and by the promise
of an additional pourboire, I succeeded in making the driver whip up
his horses to some purpose. Less than an hour later we drew up at Gex
outside the little inn, pretentiously called Le Roi de Rome. On
alighting I was met by the proprietress who, in answer to my inquiry
after two ladies who had arrived that afternoon, at once conducted me
upstairs.
Already my mind was busy conjuring up visions of the fair lady of
yester-eve. The landlady threw open a door and ushered me into a small
room which reeked of stale food and damp clothes. I stepped in and
found myself face to face with a large and exceedingly ugly old woman
who rose with difficulty from the sofa as I entered.
"M. Aristide Barrot," she said as soon as the landlady had closed the
door behind me.
"At your service, Madame," I stammered. "But--"
I was indeed almost aghast. Never in my life had I seen anything so
grotesque as this woman. To begin with she was more than ordinarily
stout and unwieldy--indeed, she appeared like a veritable mountain of
flesh; but what was so disturbing to my mind was that she was nothing
but a hideous caricature of her lovely daughter, whose dainty features
she grotesquely recalled. Her face was seamed and wrinkled, her white
hair was plastered down above her yellow forehead. She wore an
old-fashioned bonnet tied under her chin, and her huge bulk was draped
in a large-patterned cashmere shawl.
"You expected to see my dear daughter beside me, my good M. Barrot,"
she said after a while speaking with remarkable gentleness and
dignity.
"I confess, Madame--" I murmured.
"Ah! the darling has sacrificed herself for my sake. We found to-day
that though my son was out of the way, he had set his abominable
servants to watch over us. Soon we realized that we could not both get
away. It meant one of us staying behind to act the part of unconcern
and to throw dust in the eyes of our jailers. My daughter--ah! she is
an angel, Monsieur--feared that the disappointment and my son's
cruelty, when he returned on the morrow and found that he had been
tricked, would seriously endanger my life. She decided that I must go
and that she would remain."
"But, Madame--" I protested.
"I know, Monsieur," she rejoined with the same calm dignity which
already had commanded my respect, "I know that you think me a selfish
old woman; but my Angele--she is an angel, of a truth!--made all the
arrangements, and I could not help but obey her. But have no fears for
her safety, Monsieur. My son would not dare lay hands on her as often
as he has done on me. Angele will be brave, and our relations at St.
Claude will, directly we arrive, make arrangements to go and fetch her
and bring her back to me. My brother is an influential man; he would
never have allowed my son to martyrize me and Angele had he known what
we have had to endure."
Of course I could not then tell her that all her fears for herself and
the lovely Angele could now be laid to rest. Her ruffianly son was
even now being conveyed by Leroux and his gendarmes to the frontier,
where the law would take its course. I was indeed not sorry for him. I
was not sorry to think that he would end his evil life upon the
guillotine or the gallows. I was only grieved for Angele who would
spend a night and a day, perhaps more, in agonized suspense, knowing
nothing of the events which at one great swoop would free her and her
beloved mother from the tyranny of a hated brother and send him to
expiate his crimes. Not only did I grieve, Sir, for the tender victim
of that man's brutality, but I trembled for her safety. I did not know
what minions or confederates Fournier-Berty had left in the lonely
house yonder, or under what orders they were in case he did not return
from his nocturnal expedition.
Indeed for the moment I felt so agitated at thought of that beautiful
angel's peril that I looked down with anger and scorn at the fat old
woman who ought to have remained beside her daughter to comfort and to
shield her.
I was on the point of telling her everything, and dragging her back to
her post of duty which she should never have relinquished. Fortunately
my sense of what I owed to my own professional dignity prevented my
taking such a step. It was clearly not for me to argue. My first duty
was to stand by this helpless woman in distress, who had been
committed to my charge, and to convey her safely to St. Claude. After
which I could see to it that Mademoiselle Angele was brought along too
as quickly as influential relatives could contrive.
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