CHAPTER XIV

A VAIN QUEST

"So I packed what few belongings I had and took the money which I had

managed to save from my father's so meager allowance," the low voice

continued; "and when night came and all was still in the house, I stole

quietly away and turned my back upon what was the only refuge I have ever

known.

"I will not dwell upon the days and weeks that followed. Suffice it to

say that they were very, very hard, and I was dangerously near giving up

all hope, when, one day, I chanced to come across an old, old man, full

three score ten he must have been, perhaps more, who seemed to know

something of the people I sought. When I had described them to the best

of my ability, he nodded sagely and directed me up a side road near by.

Three miles of steady travel would bring Monsieur to the chateau where

lived the old caretaker and his wife. Aye, he remembered the old

gentleman, who was now dead, and the little, fairy-like creature, his

ward, whom all had loved.

"I thanked him with great warmth, for he had brought a little spark of

hope to a heart that before had lain heavy as lead.

"Wearily I trudged along till I was rewarded by the vision of a small

chateau, almost surrounded by dense woodland. My unruly heart throbbed

violently at the thought that in these very woods my sweet Jeanette had

played when a child and earned the name throughout the countryside of the

fairy child, whom every one loved. My heart yearned toward the little

home which I was convinced must shelter my love, and, weary as I was, in

my impatience I began to run, covering the remaining distance with feet

as light as air and a heart that sang with dawning hope and joy.

"As I neared the door of my heart's desire, it opened and out stepped a

plump, middle-aged little person, looking very trim and neat in her

spotless white attire.

"To her I appealed. 'Madame,' said I, 'will you be so kind as to allow me

the privilege of a few words of conversation? You have it in your power

either to raise me to the heights of joy or to sink me in the very depths

of despair.'

"She gazed upon me as she would upon a madman, and perhaps, after all, it

was not so strange that she should do so, I being footsore and weary and

all covered with the stains and dust of travel--or perhaps it was merely

my so strange form of address which startled her. However, she retreated

several steps toward the house and stood with her hand clasping the

latch, as though making ready to fly should I attempt any violence.

"'May I ask sir,' she said, with great primness, not unmixed with fear,

'who comes so early in the morning with so strange, so unusual,

requests?'

"'Aye, Madame,' said I, with most reassuring manner, 'if you will but

allow me, I will soon make all clear. Give me but a hearing,' I cried,

frantically, as I saw she was about to retire.

"To my great surprise, when she spoke it was in so much different and

more gentle a tone that I could have gone on my knees to her, so great

was my gratitude for a little kindness!

"'Oh, Monsieur, I believe you are honest,' she said, gently. 'I will

listen to what you have to say.'

"'Ah, Madame, you are good!' I cried from my heart. 'I am sure your good

opinion will be strengthened when you hear all.'

"Then did I pour out my story, while the good soul listened attentively,

nodding now and then or uttering little exclamations of surprise or

sympathy. 'And, oh, Madame,' I finished, 'if you have seen her; if, as I

believe, she is here, I beg you, take me to her. Let me but see her, and

all, I am convinced, will be well.'

"Then, what was my great horror, my boundless despair, when the good

woman slowly and sadly shook her head, saying, in a voice full of

sympathy and commiseration, 'How loath I am to shatter your hopes and add

more trouble to your already much overheavy sorrows, you cannot know,

Monsieur, but I fear I can give you little encouragement.'

"'Ah, Madame,' I cried, wildly, beseechingly, 'surely, you cannot be so

cruel; surely, you must give me some hope! If Jeanette is not here now,

surely, you have heard from her, seen her, can give me some clue to her

present whereabouts!'

"It seemed to me as though she hesitated for the fraction of a second,

but when her answer came, though gentle and sympathetic as before, it

contained decision and finality which I could not but respect.

"'Monsieur, she is not here, and neither have I seen her.'

"'Merci, Madame,' I murmured, wearily, and was turning away with sinking

heart and feet that seemed weighted with lead, when she called to me

softly:

"'Monsieur is weary. Will he not rest and partake of some refreshment

before continuing his journey?'

"Apathetically, scarce knowing where I went, nor caring, I followed her

into a great, homelike, airy room, with flowers all about, even in the

broad-silled, open windows. In the fragrance of the flowers it seemed

that I could see Jeanette, and I had a strange impression she was near

me. But I pushed it aside, thinking it but one of the many fancies that

had beset me unceasingly of late.

"It was not long before the good dame set before me a steaming dish, and

I, who, a few minutes before, had thought I could never eat again, fell

upon it ravenously and never stopped until the last delicious morsel had

disappeared. Thus refreshed and strengthened, my courage returned as by

magic and I began again to make my plans for the future.

"An hour later, leaving the house upon which I had based such high hopes,

I again turned my steps toward the city. Of course, I was now--what you

call it?--more in the dark than ever about Jeanette, but in my heart was

a great and dogged determination to find her somehow, somewhere, if I had

to search the city through.

"Five days later I found myself again before the city, infinitely more

dusty, infinitely more hungry, infinitely more footsore and more weary

than when I had encountered Madame Vidaud at the chateau.

"As I turned a corner, a great, whirling streak rushed by me, so close as

to make me jump quickly to the side of the road. To my great surprise,

the automobile stopped a few yards from where I was standing and two men,

one tall, one short, jumped out and hurried toward me.

"'Hello!' cried the tall one, in a big, rumbling voice. 'Aren't you the

son of Charloix?' he said. 'I thought I recognized you, even through the

dust. Just the man I'm looking for!'

"'I would be pleased, sir, if you would name your business with me,' I

replied, not being in the best of humors to bandy words with this

stranger who seemed so familiar with my name and ancestry.

"'Certainly, certainly,' said the big man, with a heartiness that made me

ashamed of my bad humor. 'That's exactly what I stopped for. I am your

father's solicitor.'

"I started and drew back. 'You come from my father?'

"'Yes; and you must prepare yourself for a great shock, my son,' said he,

laying a great hand upon my shoulder. 'Your father is very ill.'

"'Dead!' I gasped, feeling myself turn white. 'When?'

"'Four days ago,' said the little man, who had not yet spoken.

'Apoplexy.'

"'Ah, I had forgotten! My friend M. Abbott, M. Charloix.'

"I bowed, scarcely acknowledging the introduction, for my mind was a

whirling turmoil of hopes and fears. 'You say,' I began, still much

dazed, 'that my father died four days ago. And have you been looking for

me since then, Monsieur?'

"'Yes, Monsieur, we have scoured the country and, before this fortunate

meeting to-day, had almost given up hope of finding you.'

"'But why did you take this so much trouble to find me Monsieur?' I had

asked. 'I had not thought myself of such importance.'

"'There were many good reasons for our search, Monsieur,' said my big

friend, a trifle stiffly, for I doubt not he was amazed at my lack of

emotion, not knowing my father as I had known him. 'In the first place,

we thought you might possibly wish to know of your father's death. Also,

there are several important matters relative to his decease that we

thought might interest you.'

"'Pardon, Monsieur,' said I. 'I had not meant to be abrupt. As you may

see, I have had a long and wearisome journey and am--what you

call--fagged. I must rest, Monsieur; then I can talk.'

"'Quite right, quite right!' he agreed, in his hearty manner. 'If I had

had any brains instead of being a great empty-headed fool of an attorney,

I should have seen to that before,' and, linking his arm in mine, he led

me in spite of all protests on my part, to his great touring car and

bade me enter.

"'But, Monsieur,' I protested, gazing despairingly down upon my torn and

dusty clothing, 'I am not fit----'

"'But me no buts, young man. As your attorney and rightful executor of

your estate, I have the right to demand an interview, and I am going to

take advantage of that right.'

"There being nothing more to say, and it seeming only natural and right

to obey the commands of this great, blustering attorney, I submitted, and

lounged back against the soft, upholstered seat with a great sigh of

relaxation.

"My father's attorney talked incessantly until we reached our

destination, giving me no time to think. At his home he directed me to a

large room, saying that in an hour's time he would meet me in his study,

where, over a good dinner and a bottle or two of choice Madeira, we could

talk in comfort.

"Ah, the luxury of that bath and the subsequent putting on of a clean,

whole suit of clothes placed upon the bed by the so obsequious man

servant, who said his master had sent these clothes with his compliments

and the hope that they would fit. The clothes I accepted thankfully

enough, for I had decided to ask M. Cartier the address of a shop in the

city in which I might purchase myself a cheap but respectable suit, for I

had still a little money left.

"In Monsieur Cartier's study again that night I learned many things. I

learned, among other things, that my father had long been suspected of

being somewhat of a miser--that he was thought to possess a great deal

more money than he cared to let people know about. Also, I learned that,

several days before his death, he had made a flying visit to a little

chateau which had been owned by a friend of his--I must have started, for

the lawyer asked if I had heard of the place. 'Yes, I had heard of

it--but please go on.'

"'Well, he stayed over night that night,' the lawyer continued, 'saying

that he had come in search of his ward, who had run away from home.'

"'Yes, yes,' I cried; 'go on! What then?'

"'Well it seems that in the night the good dame heard a noise, and,

rising to investigate, came upon your father in the attic, bending over

something, the nature of which she could not make out.'

"'But, Monsieur, you mean to say my father----' I began, but he

interrupted me with an admonitory wave of the hand.

"'If you will but wait till I have finished, Monsieur Charloix,' he said,

'I will be glad to answer any and all of your questions. As I have said,

your father was bending over some object and was so absorbed that he did

not hear our good friend till she ventured a gentle cough by way of

introduction. At the slight sound, your father sprang forward with an

oath, leveling the pistol at the good dame's head----'"

"Oh!" breathed Jessie, and Lucile's hand went out instinctively to

silence the interruption. "Sh-h!" she warned, but the Frenchman seemed

not to have heard and continued his narrative, while his hand beat a

nervous tattoo on the arm of the chair.

"I sat fascinated, my eyes fixed strainingly on the face of the lawyer,

while he continued to speak, calmly, nonchalantly, as though that of

which he spoke were of every-day occurrence. 'Of course, the good dame

screamed, but the next instant her fear turned to terror when the weapon

fell from your father's hand and he reeled, falling upon the ground with

a strangling, choking cry, and lay motionless. She thought him dead, but

ran for assistance nevertheless. It was some hours before the doctor

arrived, and not long afterward your father passed away, quietly and

painlessly, for he had lain in a coma since the stroke.'

"'But, Monsieur,' I cried, forgetful of his admonition, 'you say this was

a week ago?' He nodded consent. 'But I myself but left the chateau three

days ago, and Madame Vidaud made no mention of the tragedy to me, who am

most concerned.'

"Then it was Cartier's turn to have surprise. 'You mean,' said he,

leaning his arm on the table and eyeing me steadily. 'You mean that you

were actually at the chateau three days ago and that the Vidaud woman

said nothing to you of your father's death? Are you sure that it was the

right chateau?'

"'Oui, Monsieur, I am sure,' said I.

"Then ensued a silence, during which the lawyer seemed to ponder, and I,

impatient though I was, must needs respect his silence and await his

pleasure.

"'Aye, it is strange--very strange,' said he at last, with a thoughtful

frown. 'However, it is only one more snarl in the tangled thread of

circumstances, and, with good luck, we ought to be able to get at the

root of all this mystery soon. But, my young friend,' said he, bringing

his gaze back from the wall and long line of books and centering it once

more upon me, 'there is one more very important matter which requires our

careful consideration.'

"'And that?' I cried.

"'That,' he continued, 'is the matter of the will,' and then, seeing that

I was about to interrupt, he continued, quickly, 'Just a moment, if you

please, and you will know everything; then I will be in a position to

discuss whys and wherefores. Your father's last will, the will which I

myself drew up about a year ago, is strangely missing. One has been

found, however, dating back two years, and in the event of the first will

not being found, will, of course, become valid.'

"'Well?' said I.

"'Well,' he continued, calmly launching his thunderbolt, 'in that case,

you, Monsieur, will be left penniless.'

"'Ah!' I cried, aghast, and the lawyer nodded, 'I trust that you now see

the seriousness of the situation, Monsieur.'

"'Ah, but there is one point of far greater importance than you have

mentioned,' I cried, with such earnestness that he leaned back in his

chair with a sigh of resignation, saying, 'Great heavens! What could be

more important than that?'

"'Many things, Monsieur, which, when you have heard of them, will cause

you to agree with me.'

"My manner may have impressed him, perhaps my earnestness; for he bade me

speak out freely, leaving nothing untold. This I did, to the most minute

details, save, of course, those things sacred only to Jeanne and me. When

I had finished, we had a long talk, during which I came to know the value

of this new ally of mine.

"So it was finally decided that I was to travel to America for the

purpose of hunting up one of the chief witnesses of my father's will and

beg him to return to France with me. Meanwhile, my father's attorney

assured me he would not be idle."

"And did you find him--the witness, I mean?" said Mr. Payton.

"No, Monsieur, I did not; but, after a long and exhaustive search, I

learned that the one I sought had sailed a week ago on the steamer

'Baltic,' so all my journey has been for nothing."

"What difference does it make? At least, you accomplished your purpose."

"That is true, Madame, but he would have sailed without aid of mine, and

it maddens me to think that all this time I have been wasting in a

fruitless search, my Jeanette is still unfound. Where may she not be?

Dead--perhaps----" His voice trailed off into silence and they sat

motionless, fascinated by the spell of romance, tragedy and mystery he

had woven.

Lucile Triumphant · 第 14 / 27 章