The Teeth of the Tiger, Maurice Leblanc [top 10 inspirational books TXT] 📗

unfastened the lock and the bolt. A flight of three steps brought him to the garden. He followed the length of the narrow border. Through the ivy he saw and heard the two policemen pacing up and down the boulevard. He tried the lock of the gate. It was fastened.

“Everything’s all right,” he said when he returned, “and you can be easy. Good night.”

“Good night,” said the engineer, seeing Perenna and Mazeroux out.

Between his study and the passage were two doors, one of which was padded and covered with oilcloth. On the other side, the passage was separated from the hall by a heavy curtain.

“You can go to sleep,” said Perenna to his companion. “I’ll sit up.”

“But surely, Chief, you don’t think that anything’s going to happen!”

“I don’t think so, seeing the precautions which we’ve taken. But, knowing Inspector Vérot as you did, do you think he was the man to imagine things?”

“No, Chief.”

“Well, you know what he prophesied. That means that he had his reasons for doing so. And therefore I shall keep my eyes open.”

“We’ll take it in turns, Chief; wake me when it’s my time to watch.”

Seated motionlessly, side by side, they exchanged an occasional remark. Soon after, Mazeroux fell asleep. Don Luis remained in his chair without moving, his ears pricked up. Everything was quiet in the house. Outside, from time to time, the sound of a motor car or of a cab rolled by. He could also hear the late trains on the Auteuil line.

He rose several times and went up to the door. Not a sound. Hippolyte Fauville was evidently asleep.

“Capital!” said Perenna to himself. “The boulevard is watched. No one can enter the room except by this way. So there is nothing to fear.”

At two o’clock in the morning a car stopped outside the house, and one of the manservants, who must have been waiting in the kitchen, hastened to the front door. Perenna switched off the light in the passage, and, drawing the curtain slightly aside, saw Mme. Fauville enter, followed by Silvestre.

She went up. The lights on the staircase were put out. For half an hour or so there was a sound overhead of voices and of chairs moving. Then all was silence.

And, amid this silence, Perenna felt an unspeakable anguish arise within him, he could not tell why. But it was so violent, the impression became so acute, that he muttered:

“I shall go and see if he’s asleep. I don’t expect that he has bolted the doors.”

He had only to push both doors to open them; and, with his electric lantern in his hand, he went up to the bed. Hippolyte Fauville was sleeping with his face turned to the wall.

Perenna gave a smile of relief. He returned to the passage and, shaking Mazeroux:

“Your turn, Alexandre.”

“No news, Chief?”

“No, none; he’s asleep.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had a look at him.”

“That’s funny; I never heard you. It’s true, though, I’ve slept like a pig.”

He followed Perenna into the study, and Perenna said:

“Sit down and don’t wake him. I shall take forty winks.”

He had one more turn at sentry duty. But, even while dozing, he remained conscious of all that happened around him. A clock struck the hours with a low chime; and each time Perenna counted the strokes. Then came the life outside awakening, the rattle of the milk-carts, the whistle of the early suburban trains.

People began to stir inside the house. The daylight trickled in through the crannies of the shutters, and the room gradually became filled with light.

“Let’s go away,” said Sergeant Mazeroux. “It would be better for him not to find us here.”

“Hold your tongue!” said Don Luis, with an imperious gesture.

“Why?”

“You’ll wake him up.”

“But you can see I’m not waking him,” said Mazeroux, without lowering his tone.

“That’s true, that’s true,” whispered Don Luis, astonished that the sound of that voice had not disturbed the sleeper.

And he felt himself overcome with the same anguish that had seized upon him in the middle of the night, a more clearly defined anguish, although he would not, although he dared not, try to realize the reason of it.

“What’s the matter with you, Chief? You’re looking like nothing on earth. What is it?”

“Nothing⁠—nothing. I’m frightened⁠—”

Mazeroux shuddered.

“Frightened of what? You say that just as he did last night.”

“Yes⁠ ⁠… yes⁠ ⁠… and for the same reason.”

“But⁠—?”

“Don’t you understand? Don’t you understand that I’m wondering⁠—?”

“No; what?”

“If he’s not dead!”

“But you’re mad, Chief!”

“No.⁠ ⁠… I don’t know.⁠ ⁠… Only, only⁠ ⁠… I have an impression of death⁠—”

Lantern in hand, he stood as one paralyzed, opposite the bed; and he who was afraid of nothing in the world had not the courage to throw the light on Hippolyte Fauville’s face. A terrifying silence rose and filled the room.

“Oh, Chief, he’s not moving!”

“I know⁠ ⁠… I know⁠ ⁠… and I now see that he has not moved once during the night. And that’s what frightens me.”

He had to make a real effort in order to step forward. He was now almost touching the bed.

The engineer did not appear to breathe.

This time, Perenna resolutely took hold of his hand.

It was icy cold.

Don Luis at once recovered all his self-possession.

“The window! Open the window!” he cried.

And, when the light flooded the room, he saw the face of Hippolyte Fauville all swollen, stained with brown patches.

“Oh,” he said, under his breath, “he’s dead!”

“Dash it all! Dash it all!” spluttered the detective sergeant.

For two or three minutes they stood petrified, stupefied, staggered at the sight of this most astonishing and mysterious phenomenon. Then a sudden idea made Perenna start. He flew up the winding staircase, rushed along the gallery, and darted into the attic.

Edmond, Hippolyte Fauville’s son, lay stiff and stark on his bed, with a cadaverous face, dead, too.

“Dash it all! Dash it all!” repeated Mazeroux.

Never, perhaps, in the course of his adventurous career, had Perenna experienced such a knockdown blow. It gave him a feeling of extreme lassitude, depriving him of all power of speech or movement. Father and son were dead! They had been killed during that