The Secret Of The Night(Fiscle Part 3), Gaston Leroux [best pdf ebook reader TXT] 📗
- Author: Gaston Leroux
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In Silence, Puzzled, But Without Protest, As If They, Too, Were
Caught In The Same Strange Day-Dream. Steadily Counting His Steps
He Crossed Thus The Court, Which Was Vast. "Forty, Forty-One,
Forty-Two," He Cried Excitedly. "This Is Certainly Strange, And
Very Promising."
The Others, Although They Did Not Understand, Reframed From
Questioning Him, For They Saw There Was Nothing To Do But Let Him
Go Ahead Without Interruption, Just As Care Is Taken Not To Wake
A Somnambulist Abruptly. They Had No Mistrust Of His Motives, For
The Idea Was Simply Untenable That Rouletabille Was Fool Enough To
Hope To Save Himself From Them By An Imbecile Subterfuge. No,
They Yielded To The Impression His Inspired Countenance Gave Them,
And Several Were So Affected That They Unconsciously Repeated His
Gestures. Thus Rouletabille Reached The Edge Of The Court Where
Judgment Had Been Pronounced Against Him. There He Had To Mount
A Rickety Flight Of Stairs, Whose Steps He Counted. He Reached
A Corridor, But Moving Away From The Side Where The Door Was
Opening To The Exterior He Turned Toward A Staircase Leading To The
Upper Floor, And Still Counted The Steps As Be Climbed Them. Some
Of The Company Followed Him, Others Hurried Ahead Of Him. But He
Did Not Seem Aware Of Either The One Or The Other, As He Walked
Along Living Only In His Thoughts. He Reached The Landing-Place,
Hesitated, Pushed Open A Door, And Found Himself In A Room Furnished
With A Table, Two Chairs, A Mattress And A Huge Cupboard. He Went
To The Cupboard, Turned The Key And Opened It. The Cupboard Was
Empty. He Closed It Again And Put The Key In His Pocket. Then He
Went Out Onto The Landing-Place Again. There He Asked For The Key
Of The Chamber-Door He Had Just Left. They Gave It To Him And He
Locked That Door And Put That Key Also In His Pocket. Now He
Returned Into The Court. He Asked For A Chair. It Was Brought
Him. Immediately He Placed His Head In His Hands, Thinking Hard,
Took The Chair And Carried It Over A Little Behind The Shed. The
Nihilists Watched Everything He Did And They Did Not Smile, Because
Men Do Not Smile When Death Waits At The End Of Things, However
Foolish.
Finally, Rouletabille Spoke:
"Messieurs," Said He, His Voice Low And Shaken, Because He Knew
That Now He Touched The Decisive Minute, After Which There Could
Only Be An Irrevocable Fate. "Messieurs, In Order To Continue
My Experiment I Am Obliged To Go Through Movements That Might
Suggest To You The Idea Of An Attempt At Escape, Or Evasion. I
Hope You Don't Regard Me As Fool Enough To Have Any Such Thought."
"Oh, Monsieur," Said The Chief, "You Are Free To Go Through All
The Maneuvers You Wish. No One Escapes Us. Outside We Should
Have You Within Arm's Reach Quite As Well As Here. And, Besides,
It Is Entirely Impossible To Escape From Here."
"Very Well. Then That Is Understood. In Such A Case, I Ask You
Now To Remain Just Where You Are And Not To Budge, Whatever I Do,
If You Don't Wish To Inconvenience Me. Only Please Send Someone
Part 1 Chapter 18 (A Singular Experience) Pg 209Now Up To The Next Floor, Where I Am Going To Go Again, And Let
Him Watch What Happens From There, But Without Interfering. And
Don't Speak A Word To Me During The Experiment."
Two Of The Revolutionaries Went To The Upper Floor, And Opened A
Window In Order To Keep Track Of What Went On In The Court. All
Now Showed Their Intense Interest In The Acts And Gestures Of
Rouletabille.
The Reporter Placed Himself In The Shed, Between His Death-Stool
And His Hanging-Rope.
"Ready," Said He; "I Am Going To Begin"
And Suddenly He Jumped Like A Wild Man, Crossed The Court In A
Straight Line Like A Flash, Disappeared In The Touba, Bounded Up
The Staircase, Felt In His Pocket And Drew Out The Keys, Opened
The Door Of The Chamber He Had Locked, Closed It And Locked It
Again, Turned Right-About-Face, Came Down Again In The Same Haste,
Reached The Court, And This Time Swerved To The Chair, Went Round
It, Still Running, And Returned At The Same Speed To The Shed. He
No Sooner Reached There Than He Uttered A Cry Of Triumph As He
Glanced At The Watch Banging From A Post. "I Have Won," He Said,
And Threw Himself With A Happy Thrill Upon The Fatal Scaffold.
They Surrounded Him, And He Read The Liveliest Curiosity In All
Their Faces. Panting Still From His Mad Rush, He Asked For Two
Words Apart With The Chief Of The Secret Committee.
The Man Who Had Pronounced Judgment And Who Had The Bearing Of
Jesus Advanced, And There Was A Brief Exchange Of Words Between
The Two Young Men. The Others Drew Back And Waited At A Distance,
In Impressive Silence, The Outcome Of This Mysterious Colloquy,
Which Certainly Would Settle Rouletabille's Fate.
"Messieurs," Said The Chief, "The Young Frenchman Is Going To Be
Allowed To Leave. We Give Him Twenty-Four Hours To Set Natacha
Feodorovna Free. In Twenty-Four Hours, If He Has Not Succeeded,
He Will Return Here To Give Himself Up."
A Happy Murmur Greeted These Words. The Moment Their Chief Spoke
Thus, They Felt Sure Of Natacha's Fate.
The Chief Added:
"As The Liberation Of Natacha Feodorovna Will Be Followed, The
Young Frenchman Says, By That Of Our Companion Matiew, We Decide
That, If These Two Conditions Are Fulfilled, M. Joseph Rouletabille
Is Allowed To Return In Entire Security To France, Which He Ought
Never To Have Left."
Two Or Three Only Of The Group Said, "That Lad Is Playing With Us;
It Is Not Possible."
But The Chief Declared:
Part 1 Chapter 18 (A Singular Experience) Pg 210"Let The Lad Try. He Accomplishes Miracles."
Part 1 Chapter 19 (The Tsar) Pg 211"I Have Escaped By Remarkable Luck," Cried Rouletabille, As He
Found Himself, In The Middle Of The Night, At The Corner Of The
Katharine And The Aptiekarski Pereoulok Canals, While The Mysterious
Carriage Which Had Brought Him There Returned Rapidly Toward The
Grande Ecurie. "What A Country! What A Country!"
He Ran A Little Way To The Grand Morskaia, Which Was Near, Entered
The Hotel Like A Bomb, Dragged The Interpreter From His Bed,
Demanded That His Bill Be Made Out And That He Be Told The Time Of
The Next Train For Tsarskoie-Coelo. The Interpreter Told Him That
He Could Not Have His Bill At Such An Hour, That He Could Not Leave
Town Without His Passport And That There Was No Train For
Tsarskoie-Coelo, And Rouletabille Made An Outcry That Woke The
Whole Hotel. The Guests, Fearing Always "Une Scandale," Kept Close
To Their Rooms. But Monsieur Le Directeur Came Down, Trembling.
When He Found All That It Was About He Was Inclined To Be Peremptory,
But Rouletabille, Who Had Seen "Michael Strogoff" Played, Cried,
"Service Of The Tsar!" Which Turned Him Submissive As A Sheep. He
Made Out The Young Man's Bill And Gave Him His Passport, Which Had
Been Brought Back By The Police During The Afternoon. Rouletabille
Rapidly Wrote A Message To Koupriane's Address, Which The Messenger
Was Directed To Have Delivered Without A Moment's Delay, Under The
Pain Of Death! The Manager Humbly Promised And The Reporter Did
Not Explain That By "Pain Of Death" He Referred To His Own. Then,
Having Ascertained That As A Matter Of Fact The Last Train Had Left
For Tsarskoie-Coelo, He Ordered A Carriage And Hurried To His Room
To Pack.
And He, Ordinarily So Detailed, So Particular In His Affairs, Threw
Things Every Which Way, Linen, Garments, With Kicks And Shoves. It
Was A Relief After The Emotions He Had Gone Through. "What A
Country!" He Never Ceased To Ejaculate. "What A Country!"
Then The Carriage Was Ready, With Two Little Finnish Horses, Whose
Gait He Knew Well, An Evil-Looking Driver, Who None The Less Would
Get Him There; The Trunk; Roubles To The Domestics. "Spacibo,
Barine. Spacibo." (Thank You, Monsieur. Thank You.)
Part 1 Chapter 19 (The Tsar) Pg 212The Interpreter Asked What Address He Should Give The Driver.
"The Home Of The Tsar."
The Interpreter Hesitated, Believing It To Be An Unbecoming
Pleasantry, Then Waved Vaguely To The Driver, And The Horses Started.
"What A Curious Trot! We Have No Idea Of That In France," Thought
Rouletabille. "France! France! Paris! Is It Possible That Soon
I Shall Be Back! And That Dear Lady In Black! Ah, At The First
Opportunity I Must Send Her A Dispatch Of My Return - Before She
Receives Those Ikons, And The Letters Announcing My Death. Scan!
Scan! Scan! (Hurry!)"
The Isvotchick Pounded His Horses, Crowding Past The Dvornicks Who
Watched At The Corners Of The Houses During The St. Petersburg Night.
"Dirigi! Dirigi! Dirigi! (Look Out!)"
The Country, Somber In The Somber Night. The Vast Open Country.
What Monotonous Desolation! Rapidly, Through The Vast Silent Spaces,
The Little Car Glided Over The Lonely Route Into The Black Arms Of
The Pines.
Rouletabille, Holding On To His Seat, Looked About Him.
"God! This Is As Sad As A Funeral Display."
Little Frozen Huts, No Larger Than Tombs, Occasionally Indicated
The Road, But There Was No Mark Of Life In That Country Except The
Noise Of The Journey And The Two Beasts With Steaming Coats.
Crack! One Of The Shafts Broken. "What A Country!" To Hear
Rouletabille One Would Suppose That Only In
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