A TURN OF THE SCREW.
Dr. Hortebise was the first to arrive. It was a terrible thing for him
to get up so early; but for Mascarin’s sake he consented even to this
inconvenience. When he passed through the office, the room was full
of clients; but this did not prevent the doctor from noticing the
negligence of Beaumarchef’s costume.
“Aha!” remarked the doctor, “on the drunk again, I am afraid.”
“M. Mascarin is within,” answered the badgered clerk, endeavoring to put
on an air of dignity; “and M. Tantaine is with him.”
A brilliant idea flashed across the doctor’s mind, but it was with an
air of gravity that he said,--
“I shall be charmed to meet that most worthy old gentleman.”
When, however, he entered the inner sanctum, he found Mascarin alone,
occupied in sorting the eternal pieces of pasteboard.
“Well, what news?” asked he.
“There is none that I know of.”
“What, have you not seen Paul?”
“No.”
“Will he be here?”
“Certainly.”
Mascarin was often laconic, but he seldom gave such short answers as
this.
“What is the matter?” asked the doctor. “Your greeting is quite
funereal. Are you not well?”
“I am merely preoccupied, and that is excusable on the eve of the battle
we are about to fight,” returned Mascarin.
He only, however, told a portion of the truth; for there was more in
the background, which he did not wish to confide to his friend. Toto
Chupin’s revolt had disquieted him. Let there be but a single flaw in
the axletree, and one day it will snap in twain; and Mascarin wanted to
eliminate this flaw.
“Pooh!” remarked the doctor, playing with his locket, “we shall succeed.
What have we to fear, after all,--opposition on Paul’s part?”
“Paul may resent a little,” answered Mascarin disdainfully; “but I have
decided that he shall be present at our meeting of to-day. It will be
a stormy one, so be prepared. We might give him his medicine in minims,
but I prefer the whole dose at once.”
“The deuce you do! Suppose he should be frightened, and make off with
our secret.”
“He won’t make off,” replied Mascarin in a tone which froze his
listener’s blood. “He can’t escape from us any more than the cockchafer
can from the string that a child has fastened to it. Do you not
understand weak natures like his? He is the glove, I the strong hand
beneath it.”
The doctor did not argue this point, but merely murmured,--
“Let us hope that it is so.”
“Should we have any opposition,” resumed Mascarin, “it will come from
Catenac. I may be able to force him into co-operation with us, but his
heart will not be in the enterprise.”
“Do you propose to bring Catenac into this affair?” asked Hortebise in
great surprise.
“Assuredly.”
“Why have you changed your plan?”
“Simply because I have recognized the fact that, if we dispensed with
his services, we should be entirely at the mercy of a shrewd man of
business, because----”
He broke off, listened for a moment, and then said,--
“Hush! I can hear his footstep.”
A dry cough was heard outside, and in another moment Catenac entered the
room.
Nature, or profound dissimulation, had gifted Catenac with an exterior
which made every one, when first introduced to him, exclaim, “This is an
honest and trustworthy man.” Catenac always looked his clients boldly in
the face. His voice was pleasant, and had a certain ring of joviality
in it, and his manner was one of those easy ones which always insure
popularity. He was looked upon as a shrewd lawyer; but yet he did not
shine in court. He must therefore, to make those thirty thousand francs
a year which he was credited with doing, have some special line of
business. He assayed rather risky matters, which might bring both
parties into the clutches of the criminal law, or, at any rate, leave
them with a taint upon both their names. A sensational lawsuit is
begun, and the public eagerly await the result; suddenly the whole thing
collapses, for Catenac has acted as mediator. He has even settled the
disputes of murderers quarreling over their booty. But he has even gone
farther than this. More than once he has said of himself, “I have passed
through the vilest masses of corruption.” In his office in the Rue Jacob
he has heard whispered conferences which were enough to bring down the
roof above his head. Of course this was the most lucrative business
that passed into Catenac’s hands. The client conceals nothing from his
attorney, and he belongs to him as absolutely as the sick man belongs to
his physician or the penitent to his confessor.
“Well, my dear Baptiste,” said he, “here I am; you summoned me, and I am
obedient to the call.”
“Sit down,” replied Mascarin gravely.
“Thanks, my friend, many thanks, a thousand thanks; but I am much
hurried; indeed I have not a moment to spare. I have matters on my hands
of life and death.”
“But for all that,” remarked Hortebise, “you can sit down for a moment.
Baptiste has something to say to you which is as important as any of
your matters can be.”
With a frank and genial smile Catenac obeyed; but in his heart were
anger and an abject feeling of alarm.
“What is it that is so important?” asked he.
Mascarin had risen and locked the door. When he had resumed his seat he
said,--
“The facts are very simple. Hortebise and I have decided to put our
great plan into execution, which we have as yet only discussed generally
with you. We have the Marquis de Croisenois with us.”
“My dear sir,” broke in the lawyer.
“Wait a little; we must have your assistance, and----”
Catenac rose from his seat. “That is enough,” said he. “You have made a
very great mistake if it is on this matter that you have sent for me; I
told you this before.”
He was turning away, and looking for his hat, proposed to beat a
retreat; but Dr. Hortebise stood between him and the door, gazing upon
him with no friendly expression of countenance. Catenac was not a man to
be easily alarmed, but the doctor’s appearance was so threatening, and
the smile upon Mascarin’s lips was of so deadly a character, that he
stood still, positively frightened into immobility.
“What do you mean?” stammered he; “what is it you say now?”
“First,” replied the doctor, speaking slowly and distinctly,--“first, we
wish that you should listen to us when we speak to you.”
“I am listening.”
“Then sit down again, and hear what Baptiste has to say.”
The command Catenac had over his countenance was so great that it was
impossible to see to what conclusion he had arrived from the words and
manner of his confederates.
“Then let Baptiste explain himself,” said he.
“Before entering into matters completely,” said he coolly, “I first want
to ask our dear friend and associate if he is prepared to act with us?”
“Why should there be any doubt on that point?” asked the lawyer. “Do all
my repeated assurances count as nothing?”
“We do not want promises now; what we do want is good faith and real
co-operation.”
“Can it be that you--”
“I ought to inform you,” continued Mascarin, unheeding the interruption,
“that we have every prospect of success; and, if we carry the matter
through, we shall certainly have a million apiece.”
Hortebise had not the calm patience of his confederate, and exclaimed,--
“You understand it well enough. Say Yes or No.”
Catenac was in the agonies of indecision, and for fully a minute made no
reply.
“_No_, then!” he broke out in a manner which betrayed his intense
agitation. “After due consideration, and having carefully weighed the
chances for and against, I answer you decidedly, No.”
Mascarin and Hortebise evidently expected this reply, and exchanged
glances.
“Permit me to explain,” said Catenac, “what you consider as a cowardly
withdrawal upon my part--”
“Call it treachery.”
“I will not quibble about words. I wish to be perfectly straightforward
with you.”
“I am glad to hear it,” sneered the doctor, “though that is not your
usual form.”
“And yet I do not think that I have ever concealed my real opinion from
you. It is fully ten years ago since I spoke to you of the necessity of
breaking up this association. Can you recall what I said? I said only
our extreme need and griping poverty justified our acts. They are now
inexcusable.”
“You talked very freely of your scruples,” observed Mascarin.
“You remember my words then?”
“Yes, and I remember too that those inner scruples never hindered you
from drawing your share of the profits.”
“That is to say,” burst in the doctor, “you repudiated the work, but
shared the booty. You wished to play the game without staking anything.”
Catenac was in no way disconcerted at this trenchant argument.
“Quite true,” said he, “I always received my share; but I have done
quite as much as you in putting the agency in its present prosperous
condition. Does it not work smoothly like a perfect piece of mechanism?
Have we not succeeded in nearly all our schemes? The income comes in
monthly with extreme regularity, and I, according to my rights, have
received one-third. If you desire to throw up this perilous means of
livelihood, say so, and I will not oppose it.”
“You are really too good,” sneered the doctor, with a look of menace in
his glance.
“Nor,” continued Catenac, “will I oppose you if you prefer to let
matters stand as they are; but if you start on fresh enterprises, and
embark on the tempestuous sea of danger, then I put down my foot and
very boldly ‘halt.’ I will not take another step with you. I can see by
the looks of both of you that you think me a fool and a coward. Heaven
grant that the future may not show you only too plainly that I have been
in the right. Think over this. For twenty years fortune has favored us,
but, believe me, it is never wise to tempt her too far, for it is well
known that at some time or other she always turns.”
“Your imagery is really charming,” remarked Hortebise sarcastically.
“Good, I have nothing else to say but to repeat my warning: _reflect_.
Grand as your hopes and expectations may be, they are as nothing to the
perils that you will encounter.”
This cold flood of eloquence was more than the doctor could bear.
“It is all very well for you,” exclaimed he, “to reason like this, for
you are a rich man.”
“I have enough to live on, I allow; for in addition to the income
derived from my profession, I have saved two hundred thousand francs;
and if you can be induced to renounce your projects, I will divide this
sum with you. You have only to think.”
Mascarin, who had taken no part in the dispute, now judged it time to
interfere.
“And so,” said he, turning to Catenac, “you have only two hundred
thousand francs?”
“That or thereabouts.”
“And you offer to divide this sum with us. Really we ought to be deeply
grateful to you, but----”
Mascarin paused for a moment; then settling his spectacles more firmly,
he went on,--
“But even if you were to give us what you propose, you would still have
eleven hundred thousand francs remaining!”
Catenac burst into a pleasant laugh. “You are jesting,” said he.
“I can prove the correctness of my assertion;” and as he spoke, Mascarin
unlocked a drawer, and taking a small notebook from it, turned over the
pages, and leaving it open at a certain place, handed it to the lawyer.
“There,” said he, “that is made up to December last, and shows precisely
how you stand financially. Twice, then, you have increased your funds.
These deposits you will find in an addenda at the end of the book.”
Catenac started to his feet; all his calmness had now disappeared.
“Yes,” he said, “I have just the sum you name; and I, for that very
reason, refuse to have anything further to do with your schemes. I have
an income of sixty thousand francs; that is to say, sixty thousand good
reasons for receiving no further risks. You envy me my good fortune, but
did we not all start penniless? I have taken care of my money, while
you have squandered yours. Hortebise has lost his patients, while I have
increased the number of my clients; and now you want me to tread the
dangerous road again. Not I; go your way, and leave me to go home.”
Again he took up his hat, but a wave of the hand from Mascarin detained
him.
“Suppose,” said he coldly, “that I told you that your assistance was
necessary to me.”
“I should say so much the worse for you.”
“But suppose I insist?”
“And how can you insist? We are both in the same boat, and sink or swim
together.”
“Are you certain of that?”
“So certain that I repeat from this day I wash my hands of you.”
“I am afraid you are in error.”
“How so?”
“Because for twelve months past; I have given food and shelter to a girl
of the name of Clarisse. Do you by any chance know her?”
At the mention of this name, the lawyer started, as a man starts who,
walking peacefully along, suddenly sees a deadly serpent coiled across
his path.
“Clarisse,” stammered he, “how did you know of her? who told you?”
But the sarcastic sneer upon the lips of his two confederates
wounded his pride so deeply, that in an instant he recovered his
self-possession.
“I am getting foolish,” said he, “to ask these men how they learned my
secret. Do they not always work by infamous and underhand means?”
“You see I know all,” remarked Mascarin, “for I foresaw the day would
come when you would wish to sever our connection, and even give us up to
justice, if you could do so with safety to yourself. I therefore took my
precautions. One thing, however, I was not prepared for, and that was,
that a man of your intelligence should have played so paltry a game,
and even twelve months back thought of betraying us. It is almost
incredible. Do you ever read the _Gazette des Tribunaux_? I saw in its
pages yesterday a story nearly similar to your own. Shall I tell it to
you? A lawyer who concealed his vices beneath a mantle of joviality and
candor, brought up from the country a pretty, innocent girl to act as
servant in his house. This lawyer occupied his leisure time in leading
the poor child astray, and the moment at last came when the consequences
of her weakness were too apparent. The lawyer was half beside himself at
the approaching scandal. What would the neighbors say? Well, to cut the
story short, the infant was suppressed,--you understand, suppressed, and
the mother turned into the street.”
“Baptiste, have mercy!”
“It was a most imprudent act, for such things always leak out somehow.
You have a gardener at your house at Champigny, and suppose the idea
seized upon this worthy man to dig up the ground round the wall at the
end of the garden.”
“That is enough,” said Catenac, piteously. “I give in.”
Mascarin adjusted his spectacles, as he always did in important moments.
“You give in, do you? Not a bit. Even now you are endeavoring to find a
means of parrying my home thrusts.”
“But I declare to you----”
“Do not be alarmed; dig as deeply as he might, your gardener would
discover nothing.”
The lawyer uttered a stifled exclamation of rage as he perceived the pit
into which he had fallen.
“He would find nothing,” resumed Mascarin, “and yet the story is all
true. Last January, on a bitterly cold night, you dug a hole, and in
it deposited the body of a new-born infant wrapped in a shawl. And what
shawl? Why the very one that you purchased at the _Bon Marche_, when you
were making yourself agreeable to Clarisse. The shopman who sold it to
you has identified it, and is ready to give evidence when called upon.
You may look for that shawl, Catenac, but you will not find it.”
“Have you got that shawl?” asked Catenac hoarsely.
“Am I a fool?” asked Mascarin contemptuously. “Tantaine has it; but _I_
know where the body is, and will keep the information to myself. Do not
be alarmed; act fairly, and you are safe; but make one treacherous move,
and you will read in the next day’s papers a paragraph something to this
effect: ‘Yesterday some workmen, engaged in excavations near so-and-so,
discovered the body of a new-born infant. Every effort is being made
to discover the author of the crime.’ You know me, and that I work
promptly. To the shawl I have added a handkerchief and a few other
articles belonging to Clarisse, which will render it an easy matter to
fix the guilt on you.”
Catenac was absolutely stunned, and had lost all power of defending
himself. The few incoherent words that he uttered showed his state of
utter despair.
“You have killed me,” gasped he, “just as the prize, that I have been
looking for for twenty years, was in my grasp.”
“Work does a man no harm,” remarked the doctor sententiously.
There was, however, little time to lose; the Marquis de Croisenois and
Paul might be expected to arrive at any moment, and Mascarin hastened to
restore a certain amount of calmness to his prostrate antagonist.
“You make as much noise as if we were going to hand you over to the
executioner on the spot. Do you think that we are such a pair of fools
as to risk all these hazards without some almost certain chance of
success? Hortebise was as much startled as yourself when I first spoke
to him of this affair, but I explained everything fully to him, and now
he is quite enthusiastic in the matter. Of course you can lay aside all
fear, and, as a man of the world, will bear no malice against those who
have simply played a better game than yourself.”
“Go on,” said Catenac, forcing a smile, “I am listening.”
Mascarin made a short pause.
“What we want of you,” answered he, “will not compromise you in the
slightest degree. I wish you to draw up a document, the particulars
of which I will give you presently, and you will outwardly have no
connection with the matter.”
“Very good.”
“But there is more yet. The Duke of Champdoce has placed a difficult
task in your hands. You are engaged in a secret on his behalf.”
“You know that also?”
“I know everything that may be made subservient to our ends. I also know
that instead of coming direct to me you went to the very man that we
have every reason to dread, that fellow Perpignan, who is nearly as
sharp as we are.”
“Go on,” returned Catenac impatiently. “What do you expect from me on
this point?”
“Not much; you must only come to me first, and report any discovery you
may have made, and never give any information to the Duke without first
consulting us.”
“I agree.”
The contending parties seemed to have arrived at an amicable
termination, and Dr. Hortebise smiled complacently.
“Now,” said he, “shall we not confess, after all, that there was no use
in making such a fuss?”
“I allow that I was in the wrong,” answered Catenac meekly; and,
extending his hands to his two associates with an oily smile, he said:
“Let us forget and forgive.”
Was he to be trusted? Mascarin and the doctor exchanged glances of
suspicion. A moment afterward a knock came to the door, and Paul
entered, making a timid bow to his two patrons.
“My dear boy,” said Mascarin, “let me present you to one of my oldest
and best friends.” Then, turning to Catenac, he added: “I wish to ask
you to help and assist my young friend here. Paul Violaine is a good
fellow, who has neither father nor mother, and whom we are trying to
help on in his journey through life.”
The lawyer started as he caught the strange, meaning smile which
accompanied these words.
“Great heavens!” said he, “why did you not speak sooner?”
Catenac at once divined Mascarin’s project, and understood the allusion
to the Duke de Champdoce.