IN THE DARKNESS
Ralph’s first impression was terrible. A starless night, crushing,
implacable, a night of thick fog, weighed stilly and heavily on the
invisible lake and the indistinct cliffs. His eyes were of no more use
to him than the eyes of the blind. His ears heard only silence. The
noise of the waterfalls was no longer heard: the fog absorbed them. And
in this bottomless gulf it was necessary to see, to hear, to move, and
to reach the goal. Sluices? Not for a moment did he think of them. It
would have been folly to play the fatal game of hunting for them. No;
his objective was the two ruffians. And they were in hiding. Fearing
doubtless the direct attack on an adversary such as he, they were
keeping prudently under cover, with every sense alert. Where to find
them?
The icy water in which he was standing, breast-high, chilled him to the
marrow so painfully that he did not think it possible to swim to the
flood-gates. Moreover how would he be able to open them without knowing
where the machinery was?
He stumbled along the edge of the cliff, reached the submerged steps,
and mounted to the path which hugged the face of the cliff.
The ascent of it was very difficult. Suddenly he stopped. At a
distance, through the fog, a faint light was shining.
Where? It was impossible to be sure. Was it on the lake? Was it on the
top of the cliffs? In any case it faced him, that is to say it was
shining from the vicinity of the passage, from the very spot, that is,
from which the two ruffians had fired. It looked as if they must be
camping on it. And that light could not be seen from the grotto, which
showed that they were taking precautions and was a further proof of
their being there.
He hesitated. Should he follow the path by land with all its windings,
over the peaks and down into the ravines, climb up rocks, descend into
hollows, in which he would lose sight of the precious light? The
thought of Aurelie, imprisoned in the heart of that awful granite
sepulchre, made up his mind for him. Quickly he came tumbling down the
path he had mounted and sprang from the steps into the lake.
He thought that he was going to suffocate. The torturing iciness of the
water was unbearable. Though the distance was not more than two hundred
to two hundred and fifty yards, he was on the point of giving it up—so
far beyond human strength did it seem. But the thought of Aurelie never
left him. He saw her under that pitiless ceiling. The water was
pursuing its ferocious course, which nothing could stop or slacken.
Aurelie was listening to its diabolical chuckling and feeling its icy
chill.
He redoubled his efforts. The light guided him like a beneficent star,
and he stared at it with burning eyes, as if he were afraid that it
would suddenly vanish under the formidable assault of all the powers of
darkness. But on the other hand was it not a sign that William and
Jodot were on the watch, and that, turned downwards towards the lake,
it enabled them to watch the path from which the attack would come?
As he came nearer to it, he felt a certain relief, due evidently to his
using his muscles. He moved forward with long, silent strokes. The star
grew larger, doubled in size by the mist.
He turned aside, out of the field of light. As far as he could judge,
the two ruffians had posted themselves on the top of a promontory which
jutted out at the entrance of the passage. His foot struck a reef of
rocks, then a beach of small pebbles; he crawled out of the water on to
it.
From above his head, but a little to the right, came the murmur of
voices.
How far was he from Jodot and William? What was the cliff he had to
scale like—a sheer wall, or sloping enough to climb? He could not tell.
He must trust to luck.
He stripped and rubbed his chilled limbs and body with handfuls of
gravel. Then he wrung out his sopping shirt and trousers and put them
on again. His warmed body quickly warmed them, and feeling fit again,
he attacked the cliff.
It was neither a sheer fall, nor a slope. It was composed of huge
steps, a cyclopean staircase. He could climb them, leaping up, catching
the edge of each step, but with what an immense effort! Loose pebbles
slipped from under his gripping fingers; plants he grasped were
unrooted. Again and again he fell, only to leap again. But the voices
above were growing louder.
In the light of day he would never have attempted such a climb. But the
unceasing “Tick-tack! Tick-tack!” of his watch drove him on with an
irresistible impulsion. Every second that struck on his ear, was a
moment in Aurelie’s waning life. He must succeed!
He succeeded. Of a sudden no other cyclopean step barred his way; he
was on level turf; and a light was shining through the darkness.
A few yards from him the surface of the plateau dipped into a hollow,
in the middle of which stood a small ruined hut; from a branch of the
tree which towered above it hung a lantern.
On the opposite edge of the hollow, two men lay at full length on their
bellies on the turf with their backs to him. Their rifles and revolvers
lay within reach. Between them stood an electric lamp, the light of
which had been his beacon.
He looked at his watch and shivered. It had taken him fifty minutes,
much longer than he had thought to reach the top of the cliff.
“I have half an hour at the most to stop the water rising,” he said to
himself. “If I haven’t torn from Jodot the secret of the sluices in
half an hour, all that is left for me is to return to Aurelie and die
with her, as I promised.”
He crawled, hidden by the long grass, towards the hut. Forty feet away
from him Jodot and William were talking. In perfect security, loudly
enough for him to distinguish their voices, but not loudly enough for
him to hear what they were saying. What was he to do?
He had come without any definite plan; he meant to act as the
circumstances demanded. Having no weapon, he decided that to start a
hand to hand struggle of which when all was said and done, he might get
the worst, was too dangerous. Besides, if he did get the best of it,
would he be able by threats to make such a tough opponent as Jodot
speak, to confess himself beaten and hand over the information which he
had obtained with such difficulty?
He continued to crawl forward therefore, with infinite precaution and
very slowly, in the hope of catching a sentence that would enlighten
him. So slowly did he move that he could not himself hear the rustling
of his body through the grass. He advanced six feet, then ten, and so
reached a point from which he could hear distinctly what they were
saying.
“For goodness sake, don’t make yourself ill, thinking about it,”
growled Jodot. “When we last went down to the flood-gates, the surface
of the lake had risen to the fifth mark which is level with the ceiling
of the grotto; and since they couldn’t get away, their hash is settled.
It’s as certain as that two and two make four.”
“All the same you ought to have posted yourself nearer the grotto and
kept watch on them from there,” grumbled William.
“And why not you, my lad?”
“Me! With my arm still stiff! It’s just about as much as I can do to
fire my rifle.”
“And then you’re afraid of the beggar,” sneered Jodot.
“And so are you,” retorted William.
“I don’t say I’m not. I preferred to use my rifle and the dodge of
flooding the grotto, since we’d got old Talencay’s papers.”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk about him,” snapped William.
He spoke in a shaky voice and Jodot chuckled.
“Cowardly dog!” he sneered again.
“Just you bear in mind that when I came back from hospital my mother
said: ‘All right. You know where this devilish fellow, this poisonous
Limézy has hidden Aurelie, and you declare that if you watch him he’ll
lead you to the treasure. Very good; my son will lend you a helping
hand. But no crimes—no blood.’ What?”
“And there wasn’t a drop of blood,” said Jodot in jesting accents.
“Oh, you know what I mean and what happened to the poor beggar. When
there’s a dead man, there’s a crime. It’s just the same in the case of
Limézy and Aurelie. Are you going to say there hasn’t been a crime?”
“And what about it? Were we to let this business drop? Do you think
that a beggar like Limézy would have made way for you for love of your
beautiful eyes? You know the cursed blighter too well. He broke your
arm. He would have ended by breaking your neck. It was him, or us; and
we had to choose.”
“But Aurelie?”
“The two of them were one. There was no way of getting at the one
without getting at the other.”
“The unfortunate girl——”
“Well, do you want the treasure, or don’t you? You’re not going to get
it by just smoking your pipe—not a treasure like this.”
“All the same——”
“Have you, or haven’t you seen the Marquess’s will?” exclaimed Jodot
impatiently. “Aurelie inherits the whole of the Juvains estate. What
did you think of doing then? Marry her perhaps? It takes two people to
make a marriage, my lad; and I’ve an idea that that fine fellow,
William, wouldn’t have been one of them.”
“Well?”
“Well, this is what is going to happen, my lad. To-morrow the lake of
Juvains will be neither higher nor lower than usual. The day after and
no sooner, since the Marquess has forbidden them to come on to the
plateau, the shepherds will return. They will find the Marquess killed
by a fall into a ravine; and nobody will suspect that any one lent him
a helping hand to lose his balance. Then no heir is found since he has
no relations, and no will, since I’ve got it. Consequently the estate
becomes the property of the republic. Six months later it is sold. We
buy it.”
“And where do we get the money?” said William doubtfully.
“We shall easily find it in six months,” said Jodot in sinister
accents. “Besides, what’s the estate worth to any one who does not know
the secret?”
“And suppose a prosecution is started?”
“Who’s going to be prosecuted?”
“Ourselves.”
“What for?”
“This business of Limézy and Aurelie.”
“Limézy? Aurelie? Drowned, vanished, impossible to find!”
“They’ll be found in the grotto.”
“They will not. We’ll go round to-morrow morning, tie a couple of big
stones to their legs and drop them in the lake.”
“And Limézy’s car?”
“We’ll drive away in it as soon as we’ve sunk the bodies; and no one
will ever know that they came here. Every one will think that the girl
has been carried off from the sanatorium by her lover and that they’re
traveling about the country. That’s my plan. What do you think of it?”
“Excellent, you old blackguard,” said a voice close to them. “But
there’s one great drawback to it.”
They turned their heads with a start of terror. A man was squatting on
the turf in oriental fashion a few feet away on their left
“A great drawback,” the man repeated. “All this fine plan depends on
deeds done. But what happens if the lady and gentleman of the grotto
took it into their heads to clear out?”
Their hands moved stealthily towards their rifles and revolvers. They
were no longer there.
“Weapons? What for?” said the man in mocking accents. “A sopping shirt
and trousers, that’s all I’ve got. Weapons? Between brave fellows like
us?”
Jodot and William did not stir. For Jodot, it was the man of Nice who
had re-appeared; for William it was the man of Toulouse. Above all it
was the formidable enemy of whom, they believed, they had got rid, and
whose corpse——
“Faith, yes!” he said, affecting utter carelessness: “Alive. The fifth
mark is not on a level with the ceiling of the grotto. Besides, if you
imagine that one gets the better of me by little dodges of that
kind—alive, my good Jodot! And Aurelie too. She’s well hidden, a long
way from the grotto, and not even damp. So we can talk at our ease. But
it won’t take long—five minutes at the most, and not a second longer.
What do you say?”
Jodot was silent, stupefied and terrorstricken. Ralph looked at his
watch, and calmly and carelessly, without a sign that his heart was
constricted by an indescribable anguish, he went on:
“That’s where you stand. Your plan is useless. As long as Aurelie is
not dead she inherits; and there’s no sale of the estate. If you murder
her, and there is a sale, I am still here and I buy it. You must kill
me too; and it can’t be done—invulnerable, you know. So you’re sold.
There’s only one way out of it.”
He paused; Jodot bent forward. There was a way out of it, then?
“Yes: there’s one way out of it,” said Ralph again. “—to come to an
understanding with me. Would you like to?”
Jodot did not answer. He was crouching ten feet away from Ralph; and
his blazing eyes were fixed on him in a feverish glare.
“You don’t answer. But I see that your eyes are blazing like a wild
beast’s. Do you think I make you an offer because I need you? I never
need any one. But for the last fifteen or eighteen years you have been
pursuing an object and were on the point of attaining it, which gives
you certain rights, rights which you made up your mind to defend by any
and every means, murder included. These rights I’m willing to buy from
you, for I don’t want to be bothered and I don’t want Aurelie bothered
either. One day or other you’d find a way of doing us a bad turn; and I
don’t want it. How much do you want?”
Jodot appeared to relax a little; he growled: “What’s your offer?”
“It’s this,” said Ralph. “As you know, it isn’t a matter of a treasure
of which every one can take his share, but a business proposition which
will take a lot of developing and the profits——”
“Will be considerable,” said Jodot.
“I agree. And my offer is based on that fact—five thousand francs a
month.”
The ruffian started, dazzled by such a figure.
“For both of us?” he gasped.
“Five thousand for you—two thousand for William.”
William could not contain himself; he almost shouted: “I accept!”
“And you, Jodot?”
“Perhaps. I must have a guarantee—and something in advance.”
“How will a quarter’s advance suit you? I’ll meet you at three
to-morrow, in Jande Square at Clermont-Ferrand, and give you a cheque.”
“Yes: that’s all very well,” said the distrustful Jodot. “But I’ve got
no assurance that to-morrow Baron de Limézy won’t have me arrested.”
“That won’t happen because they’d arrest me at the same time.”
“You?”
“Rather! And it would be a more important capture than you suppose.”
“Who are you?”
“Arsène Lupin.”
The name had an immense effect on Jodot. He understood now why all his
plans had come to grief and the sway this man exercised over him.
Ralph went on: “Arsène Lupin, wanted by all the police in the world for
more than five hundred robberies, found guilty more than a hundred
times. We were born to understand one another. I hold you. But you hold
me; and you accept my terms, I am sure. I could have knocked you on the
head just now. But no: I would sooner come to an agreement with you.
Besides, I shall employ you if I get the chance. You have your faults;
but you have great qualities. For example, the way you traced me to
Clermont-Ferrand was a real exploit, for I don’t yet understand how you
did it. You have my word, then; and the word of Lupin is as good as
gold. Is it settled?”
Jodot consulted with William in a low voice and replied: “Yes: we
agree. What is it you want?”
“Me? I don’t want anything, old chap,” said Ralph carelessly. “I’m a
man who is seeking for peace and pays the necessary price for it. We
become partners: that’s the real truth. If you wish to invest anything
in the partnership after to-day, it’s just as you like. You have
documents.”
“Lots of them. The instructions of the Marquis with regard to the
lake.”
“That’s clear enough, since you were able to shut the flood-gates. Are
they fully detailed instructions?”
“Yes: five sheets of small writing.”
“And have you them here?”
“Yes; and I have the will too—in favor of Aurelie.”
“Hand them over.”
“To-morrow—in return for the checks,” said Jodot firmly.
“Right: to-morrow, in return for the checks. Shall we shake hands on
it? That will be the signing of the agreement; and I’ll be getting
away.”
They shook hands.
“Good-by,” said Ralph.
The interview was at an end; but the real battle was yet to be
fought—with a few words. Everything that had been said so far and all
these promises were so many trifles to put Jodot off the real scent.
The essential thing was to get the sluices going. Would Jodot speak?
Would Jodot guess the real situation, the real reason of Ralph’s crafty
negotiations?
Never before in his life had Ralph been so anxious. But he said
carelessly enough: “I should like very much to see the thing working
before I go away. I suppose you couldn’t open the sluices that let the
water run away before me?”
“It’s necessary, according to the instructions of the Marquess, for the
sluices to be open seven or eight hours before they’ve done their
work,” said Jodot.
“Never mind: open them at once. To-morrow morning we shall see, you
from here, Aurelie, and I from over there, the whole bag of tricks,
that is to say the treasure. The machinery is quite close too, isn’t
it? Just beneath us? Near the flood-gates?”
“Yes.”
“Is there a direct path to it?”
“Yes.”
“And you understand the working of it?”
“It’s easy. The instructions show you how quite clearly.”
“Let’s go down,” Ralph suggested. “I’ll give you a helping hand.”
Jodot rose and took the electric lamp. He had not smelled the trap.
William followed him. As they passed they saw the rifles which Ralph
had drawn towards him at the beginning, and pushed a little further
away. Jodot slung one of them from his shoulder, William the other.
Ralph took the lantern hanging from the bough and followed on the heels
of the two ruffians.
“This time I’m bringing it off,” he said to himself with a lightness of
spirit which must have shown in his face. “A few more convulsions
perhaps. But the main battle is won.”
They went down the cliff. At the edge of the lake Jodot moved along a
sandy and gravelly beach at the foot of the cliff, went round a rock
which hid a fairly deep cave at the mouth of which a boat was moored,
dropped on his knees, removed some big stones, and uncovered four
levers in a line at the end of four chains which ran into earthenware
pipes.
“Here it is, quite close to the machinery of the flood-gates,” he said.
“The chains raise the slabs which close the sluices at the bottom of
the lake.”
He pulled up one of the levers. Ralph pulled up another and felt quite
plainly that the chain grew taut and raised the slab that closed the
sluice. The other two levers seemed to work no less successfully. There
came from some distance away the sound of a sudden ebullition in the
waters of the lake.
The hand of Ralph’s watch pointed to twenty past nine. Aurelie was
saved.
“Lend me your rifle,” said Ralph. “Or, rather, fire it yourself—a
couple of shots.”
“Whatever for?” said Jodot in some surprise.
“It’s a signal.”
“A signal.”
“Yes. I left Aurelie in the cave, which was nearly full of water, and
you can imagine how frightened she must be. When I left her I promised
to let her know by firing a rifle twice that she had nothing to fear.”
Jodot was stupefied. The audacity of Ralph, this frank admission of the
danger which Aurelie was still running, astounded him and at the same
time increased in his eyes the prestige of his late adversary. Not for
a second did he think of taking advantage of the situation. The two
reports of the rifle rang out among the rocks and cliffs.
“Hang it all! You are a leader, you are,” said Jodot. “You’re one to
obey without asking any questions. Here are the documents of the
Marquess, and here’s his will.”
“That shows real sense,” said Ralph as he took the documents. “I shall
make something out of you. Not an honest man—never in this world at
least—but a pretty fair crook. You don’t want this boat, do you?”
“Rather not.”
“I shall find it useful to return to Aurelie in. And just another word
of advice: don’t show yourselves any more in this district. If I were
you I should make a point of getting to Clermont-Ferrand before
morning. Good-by, comrades.”
He stepped into the boat; Jodot cast off the chain.
“What splendid fellows!” said Ralph to himself, as he rowed vigorously
towards the grotto. “The moment one appeals to their noble hearts, to
their natural generosity, there’s no stopping them. Certainly,
comrades, you shall have your checks! But I do not guarantee that
there’s still a balance in my favor in my Limézy account. But you shall
have them all the same, signed with my proper signature as I promised.”
He made nothing of the two hundred and fifty yards after an expedition
so fruitful of results. He was at the grotto in a few minutes. He went
straight into it, with the lantern in the bow.
“Victory!” he exclaimed. “You heard my signal? Victory!”
A cheerful light filled the small retreat in which they had so nearly
met their death. The hammock stretched from wall to wall. Aurelie was
sleeping peacefully in it. Trusting to the promise of her friend,
convinced that nothing was impossible to him, freed from her anguish at
her danger and from the jaws of that death she had so desired, she had
succumbed to her weariness. Perhaps, too, she had heard the noise of
the two reports. In any case the noise he made did not awaken her.
When she opened her eyes next morning she saw surprising things in the
grotto in which the light of day mingled with the light of the lantern.
The water had flowed away. In the bottom of a boat resting against the
wall, Ralph, dressed in a shepherd’s overcoat and linen trousers which
he must have taken from the heap of clothes of the old Marquess on the
shelf, was sleeping as deeply as she had slept herself.
For a long while she gazed at him with loving eyes, in which there also
shone a restrained curiosity. Who was this extraordinary being, whose
will opposed the decrees of destiny and whose acts assumed the very
appearance of miracles? She had heard, without any distress—what did it
matter to her?—Marescal’s accusation and the name of Arsène Lupin the
Commissary had snarled at him. Was she to believe that Ralph was no
other than Arsène Lupin?
“Who are you? You whom I love more than my life?” she thought. “Who are
you? You who unceasingly save me as if it were your only mission? Who
are you?”
“The blue bird.”
Ralph awoke, and the unspoken question of Aurelie was so clear that he
answered without hesitation:
“The blue bird charged with the task of bringing happiness to good and
trusting little girls, to defend them against ogres and wicked fairies,
and to conduct them to their kingdom.”
“Have I then a kingdom, dearest?”
“Yes. At the age of six you made a progress through it. To-day it
belongs to you by the will of the old Marquess.”
“Quick, Ralph! Quick! Let me see it—or rather let me see it again.”
“First of all let’s have some food,” he said. “I’m dying of hunger.
Besides, the visit to your kingdom will not last long, and it must not
last long. That which has been hidden for centuries must not be
revealed definitely in the light of day till you shall be mistress of
your kingdom.”
As was her custom, she asked no questions about the way in which he had
acted. What had become of Jodot and William? Had he any news of the
Marquess of Talencay? She preferred to know nothing and let him guide
her.
A minute later they came out of the grotto together, and Aurelie, once
more overwhelmed by emotion, rested her head against Ralph’s arm and
murmured:
“That’s really it, Ralph! That is just what I saw so long ago—on the
second day—with my mother.”