I took him into the lock-keeper's house and closed the door.

'Where are you going?'

'To Havre.'

'Where did you come from?'

'Paris.'

'From what quay?'

'From the Pont de Neuilly.'

'When did you leave there?'

'At five minutes to four o'clock this afternoon.'

'Yesterday afternoon, you mean?'

'Yesterday afternoon.'

'Who engaged you to make this voyage?'

'An American; I do not know his name.'

'He paid you well, I suppose?'

'He paid me what I asked.'

'Have you received the money?'

'Yes, sir.'

'I may inform you, captain, that I am Eugène Valmont, chief detective

of the French Government, and that all the police of France at this

moment are under my control. I ask you, therefore, to be careful of

your answers. You were ordered by a policeman at Denouval to return.

Why did you not do so?'

'The lock-keeper ordered me to return, but as he had no right to order

me, I went on.'

'You knew very well it was the police who ordered you, and you ignored

the command. Again I ask you why you did so.'

'I did not know it was the police.'

'I thought you would say that. You knew very well, but were paid to

take the risk, and it is likely to cost you dear. You had two

passengers aboard?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Did you put them ashore between here and Denouval?'

'No, sir; but one of them went overboard, and we couldn't find him

again.'

'Which one?'

'The short man.'

'Then the American is still aboard?'

'What American, sir?'

'Captain, you must not trifle with me. The man who engaged you is

still aboard?'

'Oh, no, sir; he has never been aboard.'

'Do you mean to tell me that the second man who came on your launch at

the Pont de Neuilly is not the American who engaged you?'

'No, sir; the American was a smooth-faced man; this man wore a black

beard.'

'Yes, a false beard.'

'I did not know that, sir. I understood from the American that I was

to take but one passenger. One came aboard with a small box in his

hand; the other with a small bag. Each declared himself to be the

passenger in question. I did not know what to do, so I left Paris with

both of them on board.'

'Then the tall man with the black beard is still with you?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Well, captain, is there anything else you have to tell me? I think

you will find it better in the end to make a clean breast of it.'

The captain hesitated, turning his cap about in his hands for a few

moments, then he said,--

'I am not sure that the first passenger went overboard of his own

accord. When the police hailed us at Denouval--'

'Ah, you knew it was the police, then?'

'I was afraid after I left it might have been. You see, when the

bargain was made with me the American said that if I reached Havre at

a certain time a thousand francs extra would be paid to me, so I was

anxious to get along as quickly as I could. I told him it was

dangerous to navigate the Seine at night, but he paid me well for

attempting it. After the policeman called to us at Denouval the man

with the small box became very much excited, and asked me to put him

ashore, which I refused to do. The tall man appeared to be watching

him, never letting him get far away. When I heard the splash in the

water I ran aft, and I saw the tall man putting the box which the

other had held into his handbag, although I said nothing of it at the

time. We cruised back and forward about the spot where the other man

had gone overboard, but saw nothing more of him. Then I came on to

Meulan, intending to give information about what I had seen. That is

all I know of the matter, sir.'

'Was the man who had the jewels a Frenchman?'

'What jewels, sir?'

'The man with the small box.'

'Oh, yes, sir; he was French.'

'You have hinted that the foreigner threw him overboard. What grounds

have you for such a belief if you did not see the struggle?'

'The night is very dark, sir, and I did not see what happened. I was

at the wheel in the forward part of the launch, with my back turned to

these two. I heard a scream, then a splash. If the man had jumped

overboard as the other said he did, he would not have screamed.

Besides, as I told you, when I ran aft I saw the foreigner put the

little box in his handbag, which he shut up quickly as if he did not

wish me to notice.'

'Very good, captain. If you have told the truth it will go easier with

you in the investigation that is to follow.'

I now turned the captain over to one of my men, and ordered in the

foreigner with his bag and bogus black whiskers. Before questioning

him I ordered him to open the handbag, which he did with evident

reluctance. It was filled with false whiskers, false moustaches, and

various bottles, but on top of them all lay the jewel case. I raised

the lid and displayed that accursed necklace. I looked up at the man,

who stood there calmly enough, saying nothing in spite of the

overwhelming evidence against him.

'Will you oblige me by removing your false beard?'

He did so at once, throwing it into the open bag. I knew the moment I

saw him that he was not the American, and thus my theory had broken

down, in one very important part at least. Informing him who I was,

and cautioning him to speak the truth, I asked how he came in

possession of the jewels.

'Am I under arrest?' he asked.

'But certainly,' I replied.

'Of what am I accused?'

'You are accused, in the first place, of being in possession of

property which does not belong to you.'

'I plead guilty to that. What in the second place?'

'In the second place, you may find yourself accused of murder.'

'I am innocent of the second charge. The man jumped overboard.'

'If that is true, why did he scream as he went over?'

'Because, too late to recover his balance, I seized this box and held

it.'

'He was in rightful possession of the box; the owner gave it to him.'

'I admit that; I saw the owner give it to him.'

'Then why should he jump overboard?'

'I do not know. He seemed to become panic-stricken when the police at

the last lock ordered us to return. He implored the captain to put him

ashore, and from that moment I watched him keenly, expecting that if

we drew near to the land he would attempt to escape, as the captain

had refused to beach the launch. He remained quiet for about half an

hour, seated on a camp chair by the rail, with his eyes turned toward

the shore, trying, as I imagined, to penetrate the darkness and

estimate the distance. Then suddenly he sprung up and made his dash. I

was prepared for this, and instantly caught the box from his hand. He

gave a half turn, trying either to save himself or to retain the box;

then with a scream went down shoulders first into the water. It all

happened within a second after he leaped from his chair.'

'You admit yourself, then, indirectly responsible for his drowning, at

least?'

'I see no reason to suppose that the man was drowned. If able to swim

he could easily have reached the river bank. If unable to swim, why

should he attempt it encumbered by the box?'

'You believe he escaped, then?'

'I think so.'

'It will be lucky for you should that prove to be the case.'

'Certainly.'

'How did you come to be in the yacht at all?' 'I shall give you a

full account of the affair, concealing nothing. I am a private

detective, with an office in London. I was certain that some attempt

would be made, probably by the most expert criminals at large, to rob

the possessor of this necklace. I came over to Paris, anticipating

trouble, determined to keep an eye upon the jewel case if this proved

possible. If the jewels were stolen the crime was bound to be one of

the most celebrated in legal annals. I was present during the sale,

and saw the buyer of the necklace. I followed the official who went to

the bank, and thus learned that the money was behind the cheque. I

then stopped outside and waited for the buyer to appear. He held the

case in his hand.'

'In his pocket, you mean?' I interrupted.

'He had it in his hand when I saw him. Then the man who afterwards

jumped overboard approached him, took the case without a word, held up

his hand for a cab, and when an open vehicle approached the curb he

stepped in, saying, "The Madeleine." I hailed a closed cab, instructed

the cabman to follow the first, disguising myself with whiskers as

near like those the man in front wore as I had in my collection.'

'Why did you do that?'

'As a detective you should know why I did it. I wished as nearly as

possible to resemble the man in front, so that if necessity arose I

could pretend that I was the person commissioned to carry the jewel

case. As a matter of fact, the crisis arose when we came to the end of

our cab journey. The captain did not know which was his true

passenger, and so let us both remain aboard the launch. And now you

have the whole story.'

'An extremely improbable one, sir. Even by your own account you had no

right to interfere in this business at all.'

'I quite agree with you there,' he replied, with great nonchalance,

taking a card from his pocket-book, which he handed to me.

'That is my London address; you may make inquiries, and you will find

I am exactly what I represent myself to be.'

The first train for Paris left Meulan at eleven minutes past four in

the morning. It was now a quarter after two. I left the captain, crew,

and launch in charge of two of my men, with orders to proceed to Paris

as soon as it was daylight. I, supported by the third man, waited at

the station with our English prisoner, and reached Paris at half-past

five in the morning.

The English prisoner, though severely interrogated by the judge, stood

by his story. Inquiry by the police in London proved that what he said

of himself was true. His case, however, began to look very serious

when two of the men from the launch asserted that they had seen him

push the Frenchman overboard, and their statement could not be shaken.

All our energies were bent for the next two weeks on trying to find

something of the identity of the missing man, or to get any trace of

the two Americans. If the tall American were alive, it seemed

incredible that he should not have made application for the valuable

property he had lost. All attempts to trace him by means of the cheque

on the Crédit-Lyonnais proved futile. The bank pretended to give me

every assistance, but I sometimes doubt if it actually did so. It had

evidently been well paid for its services, and evinced no impetuous

desire to betray so good a customer.

We made inquiries about every missing man in Paris, but also without

result.

The case had excited much attention throughout the world, and

doubtless was published in full in the American papers. The Englishman

had been in custody three weeks when the chief of police in Paris

received the following letter:--

'DEAR SIR,--On my arrival in New York by the English steamer

_Lucania_, I was much amused to read in the papers accounts of the

exploits of detectives, French and English. I am sorry that only one

of them seems to be in prison; I think his French _confrère_ ought to

be there also. I regret exceedingly, however, that there is the rumour

of the death by drowning of my friend Martin Dubois, of 375 Rue aux

Juifs, Rouen. If this is indeed the case he has met his death through

the blunders of the police. Nevertheless, I wish you would communicate

with his family at the address I have given, and assure them that I

will make arrangements for their future support.

'I beg to inform you that I am a manufacturer of imitation diamonds,

and through extensive advertising succeeded in accumulating a fortune

of many millions. I was in Europe when the necklace was found, and had

in my possession over a thousand imitation diamonds of my own

manufacture. It occurred to me that here was the opportunity of the

most magnificent advertisement in the world. I saw the necklace,

received its measurements, and also obtained photographs of it taken

by the French Government. Then I set my expert friend Martin Dubois at

work, and, with the artificial stones I gave him, he made an imitation

necklace so closely resembling the original that you apparently do not

know it is the unreal you have in your possession. I did not fear the

villainy of the crooks as much as the blundering of the police, who

would have protected me with brass-band vehemence if I could not elude

them. I knew that the detectives would overlook the obvious, but would

at once follow a clue if I provided one for them. Consequently, I laid

my plans, just as you have discovered, and got Martin Dubois up from

Rouen to carry the case I gave him down to Havre. I had had another

box prepared and wrapped in brown paper, with my address in New York

written thereon. The moment I emerged from the auction room, while my

friend the cowboy was holding up the audience, I turned my face to the

door, took out the genuine diamonds from the case and slipped it into

the box I had prepared for mailing. Into the genuine case I put the

bogus diamonds. After handing the box to Dubois, I turned down a side

street, and then into another whose name I do not know, and there in a

shop with sealing wax and string did up the real diamonds for posting.

I labelled the package "Books", went to the nearest post office, paid

letter postage, and handed it over unregistered as if it were of no

particular value. After this I went to my rooms in the Grand Hotel

where I had been staying under my own name for more than a month. Next

morning I took train for London, and the day after sailed from

Liverpool on the _Lucania_. I arrived before the _Gascoigne_, which

sailed from Havre on Saturday, met my box at the Customs house, paid

duty, and it now reposes in my safe. I intend to construct an

imitation necklace which will be so like the genuine one that nobody

can tell the two apart; then I shall come to Europe and exhibit the

pair, for the publication of the truth of this matter will give me the

greatest advertisement that ever was.

'Yours truly,

'JOHN P HAZARD.'

I at once communicated with Rouen and found Martin Dubois alive and

well. His first words were:--'I swear I did not steal the jewels.'

He had swum ashore, tramped to Rouen, and kept quiet in great fear

while I was fruitlessly searching Paris for him. It took Mr. Hazard

longer to make his imitation necklace than he supposed, and several

years later he booked his passage with the two necklaces on the

ill-fated steamer _Burgoyne_, and now rests beside them at the bottom

of the Atlantic.

Full many a gem of purest ray serene,

The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear.

The Triumphs of Eugène Valmont · 第 18 / 50 题