AN INFORMAL TRIBUNAL
I was awakened about midday by the _valet de chambre_, who
informed me that a gentleman was waiting below to see me--a gentleman
who had given the name of Monsieur Louis. I ordered him to prepare my
bath and bring my coffee. When Louis was shown upstairs I was seated
on the edge of my bed in my dressing-gown, smoking my first cigarette.
Louis had the appearance of a man who had not slept. As for myself, I
had never opened my eyes from the moment when my head had touched the
pillow. I had no nerves, and I had done nothing which I regretted. I
fancy, therefore, that my general appearance and reception of him
somewhat astonished my early visitor. He seemed, indeed, to take my
nonchalance almost as an affront, and he proceeded at once to try and
disturb it.
"Monsieur was expecting, perhaps, another sort of visitor?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"I really hadn't thought about it," I said. "After what you told me
last night I have been feeling quite comfortable."
"Do you know that it is doubtful whether Monsieur Tapilow will live?"
Louis asked.
"It was the just payment of a just debt," I answered.
"The law," he objected, "does not permit such adjustments."
"The law," I answered, "can do what it pleases with me."
Louis regarded me steadily for a moment or two, and I fancied that
there was something of that admiration in his gaze which a cautious
man sometimes feels for the foolhardy.
"Monsieur has slept well?" he asked.
"Excellently," I answered.
He glanced at the watch which he had taken from his waistcoat pocket.
"In twenty minutes," he announced, "we must be at the Cafe Normandy."
I raised my eyebrows.
"Indeed!" I said dryly. "I don't exactly follow you."
Louis shrugged his shoulders.
"Monsieur," he said, "it is no time, this, for the choice of words.
There is a man who lies very near to death up there in the Cafe des
Deux Epingles, and it must be decided within the next few hours what
is to be done with him."
"I am not sure that I understand, Louis," I said, lighting a
cigarette.
"You will understand at the Cafe Normandy in half an hour's time,"
Louis answered. "In the meanwhile, have you a servant? If not, summon
the _valet de chambre_. You must dress quickly. It is important,
this."
"I will dress in ten minutes," I replied, "but I must shave before I
go out. That will take me another ten. In the meantime, perhaps you
will kindly tell me what it all means?"
"What it all means!" Louis repeated, with upraised hands. "Is it not
clear? Have you forgotten what happened only a few hours ago? It rests
with one or two people as to whether you shall be given up to the
police for what you did last night,--does monsieur understand
that?--the police!"
"To tell you the truth, Louis," I answered, "I never dreamed of
escaping from them. It did not seem possible."
"In which case?" Louis asked slowly.
I pointed to the revolver upon my mantelpiece.
"We all," I remarked, "make the mistake of overestimating the actual
importance of life."
Louis shivered a little. I noticed both then and afterwards that he
was never comfortable in the presence of firearms.
"A last resource, of course," I said, "but one should always be
prepared!"
"In this city," Louis said, "it is not as in London. In London there
are no corners which are not swept bare by your police. In London, by
this time you would have been sitting in a prison cell."
"That," I remarked, "is doubtless true. So much the more fortunate for
me that I should have met Monsieur Tapilow in Paris and not in London.
But will you tell me, Louis, why you want me to go with you to the
Cafe Normandy, and how you think it will help me?"
"It would take too long," Louis answered. "We will talk in the
carriage, perhaps. You must not delay now--not one moment."
I humored him by hastening my preparations, and we left the place
together a few minutes later. There were many things which I desired
to ask him with regard to the events of last night and the place to
which he had taken me, but as though by mutual consent neither of us
spoke of these things. When we were already, however, about half way
towards the famous restaurant which was our destination I could not
keep silence any longer.
"Louis," I said, "tell me about this little excursion of ours. Who are
these men whom we are going to meet?"
He turned towards me. The last few hours seemed to have brought us
into a greater intimacy. He addressed me by name, and his manner,
although it was still respectful enough, was somehow altered.
"Captain Rotherby," he said, "you do not seem to appreciate the
position in which you stand. You are young, and life is hot in your
veins, and yet to-day, as you sit there, your liberty is
forfeit,--perhaps even, if Tapilow should die, your life! Have you
ever heard any stories, I wonder," he added, leaning a little toward
me, "about French prisons?"
"Are you trying to frighten me, Louis?" I asked.
"No!" he answered, "but I want you to realize that you are in a very
serious position."
"I know that," I answered. "Don't think, Louis," I continued, "that
what I did last night was the result of a rash impulse. I had sworn
since a certain day in the autumn of last year that the first time I
came face to face with that man, whether it was in the daytime or the
nighttime, in a friend's house or on the street, I would punish him.
Well, I have kept my word. I had to. I have had my fill of vengeance.
He can go through the rest of his life, so far as I am concerned,
unharmed. But what I did, I was bound to do, and I am ready to face
the consequences, if necessary."
Louis nodded sympathetically.
"Monsieur," said he, "you have but to talk like that to convince the
men whom you will meet in a few moments that you had a real grievance
against Tapilow, and all may yet be well."
"Who are these men?" I asked. "Is it a police court to which you are
taking me?"
"Monsieur," Louis answered, "there are things which I cannot any
longer conceal from you. I myself, believe me, am merely an
outsider. I am, as you know, a hardworking man with a responsible
position and a family to support. But here in Paris I come on to the
fringe of a circle of life with which I have no direct connection, and
yet whose happenings sometimes touch upon the lives of my friends and
intimates. It is a circle of life into which is drawn much that is
splendid, much that is brilliant; but, monsieur, it is life outside
the law, life which does as it thinks fit, which lives its own way,
and recognizes no laws save its own interests."
I nodded.
"Go on, Louis, please," I said, "Tell me, for example, who these men
are whom I am going to meet."
"They are men," Louis answered, "who have great influence in that
world of which I spoke. The law cannot touch them, or if it could it
would not. They wield a power greater than the power which drives the
wheels of government in this country. If they hear your story, and
they think well, you will go free, even though the man Tapilow should
die."
"You believe this, Louis?" I asked curiously.
"I am sure of it," he answered.
It was not for me to dispute what he said. I merely shrugged my
shoulders. Yet, as a matter of fact, I was expecting every moment to
find the hand of a gendarme upon my shoulder. I expected it as the
carriage stopped before the restaurant and we crossed the pavement. I
expected it even when two men who were sitting in the anteroom of the
restaurant rose up to meet us. Louis, standing between, performed an
introduction.
"Monsieur Decresson and Monsieur Grisson," he said, stretching out his
hand, "permit me to make you acquainted with Monsieur le Capitaine
Rotherby, a retired officer in the English army, and brother of the
Earl of Welmington."
The two men bowed politely and held out their hands. They were both
typical well-dressed, good-looking Frenchmen, apparently of the upper
class. Monsieur Decresson had a narrow black beard, a military
moustache, a high forehead, pale complexion, and thoughtful eyes.
Monsieur Grisson was shorter, with lighter-colored hair, something of
a fop in his attire, and certainly more genial in his manner.
"It is a pleasure," they both declared, "to have the honor of meeting
Monsieur le Capitaine."
The usual inanities followed. Then Monsieur Decresson pointed with his
hand into the restaurant.
"If monsieur will do us the honor to join us," he said, "we will take
luncheon. Afterwards," he continued, "we can talk over our coffee and
liqueurs. It would be well for us to become better acquainted."
I saw no reason to object. I was, in fact, exceedingly hungry. We
lunched at a corner table in the famous restaurant, and I am bound to
admit that we lunched exceedingly well. During the progress of the
meal our conversation was absolutely general. All the events of the
previous night were carefully ignored. When at last, however, we sat
over our coffee and liqueurs, Monsieur Decresson, after a moment's
pause, turned his melancholy gray eyes on me.
"Capitaine Rotherby," he said, "my friend and I represent a little
group of people who have some interest in the place where we met last
night. We are deputed to ask you to explain, if you can, your
conduct,--your attack, which it seemed to us was absolutely
unprovoked, upon an habitue of the place and an associate of our own."
"There is only one explanation which I can make," I answered slowly.
"I went there, as Louis will tell you, absolutely a stranger, and
absolutely by chance. Chance decreed that I should meet face to face
the one man in the world against whom I bear a grudge, the one man
whom I had sworn to punish whenever and wherever I might meet him."
Monsieur Decresson bowed.
"There are situations," he admitted, "which can only be dealt with in
that manner. Do not think me personal or inquisitive, I beg of you,
but--I ask in your own interests--what had you against this man
Tapilow?"
"Monsieur Decresson," I said, "I will answer you frankly. The man whom
I punished last night, I punished because I have proved him to be
guilty of conduct unbecoming to a gentleman. I punished him because he
broke the one social law which in my country, at any rate, may not be
transgressed with impunity."
"What you are saying now," Monsieur Grisson interrupted, "amounts to
an accusation. Tapilow is known to us. These things must be spoken of
seriously. You speak upon your honor as an English soldier and a
gentleman?"
"Messieurs," I answered, turning to both of them, "it is agreed. I
speak to you as I would speak to the judge before whom I should stand
if I had murdered this man, and I tell you both, upon my honor, that
the treatment which he received from me he merited. He borrowed my
money and my brother's money. He accepted the hospitality of my
brother's house, the friendship of his friends. In return, he robbed
him of the woman whom he loved."
"The quarrel," Monsieur Decresson said softly, "seems, then, to have
been another's."
"Messieurs," I answered, "my brother is an invalid for life. The
quarrel, therefore, was mine."
Decresson and his companion exchanged glances. I leaned back in my
chair. The three of them talked together earnestly for several minutes
in an undertone. Then Louis, with a little sigh of relief, rose to
his feet and came over to my side.
"It is finished," he declared. "Monsieur Decresson and Monsieur
Grisson are of one mind in this matter. The man Tapilow's punishment
was deserved."
I looked from one to the other of them in wonder.
"But I do not understand!" I exclaimed. "You mean to say, then, that
even if Tapilow himself should wish it--"
Monsieur Decresson smiled grimly.
"What happens in the Cafe des Deux Epingles," he said, "happens
outside the world. Without special permission it would not be possible
for Monsieur Tapilow to speak to the police of this assault. Buy your
_Figaro_ every evening," he continued, "and soon you will
read. In the meantime, I recommend you, monsieur, not to stay too long
in Paris."
They took leave of me with some solemnity on the pavement outside the
restaurant, but Monsieur Decresson, before stepping into his
automobile, drew me a little on one side.
"Capitaine Rotherby," he said, "you have been dealt with to-day as a
very privileged person. You were brought to the Cafe des Deux Epingles
a stranger, almost a guest, and your behavior there might very well
have been resented by us."
"If I have not said much," I answered, "please do not believe me any
the less grateful."
"Let that go," Monsieur Decresson said coldly. "Only I would remind
you of this. You are a young man, but your experience has doubtless
told you that in this world one does not often go out of one's way to
serve a stranger for no purpose at all. There is a chance that the
time may come when we shall ask you, perhaps through Louis here,
perhaps through some other person, to repay in some measure your
debt. If that time should come, I trust that you will not prove
ungrateful."
"I think," I answered confidently, "that there is no fear of that."
Monsieur Decresson touched Louis on the shoulder and motioned him to
enter the automobile which was waiting. With many bows and solemn
salutes the great car swung off and left me there alone. I watched it
until it disappeared, and then, turning in the opposite direction,
started to walk toward the Ritz. Curiously enough it never occurred to
me to doubt for a moment the assurance which had been given me. I had
no longer the slightest fear of arrest.
On the way I passed the Cafe de Paris. Then I suddenly remembered that
strange little note from the girl with the turquoises. I never stopped
to consider whether or not I was doing a wise thing. I opened the
swing doors and passed into the restaurant. It was almost empty,
except for a few people who had sat late over their luncheon. I called
Leon to me.
"Leon," I said, "you remember me? I am Captain Rotherby."
He held up his hand.
"It is enough, monsieur," he declared. "If monsieur would be so good."
He drew me a little on one side.
"Mademoiselle still waits," he said in an undertone. "If monsieur will
ascend."
"Upstairs?" I asked.
Leon bowed and smiled.
"Mademoiselle is in one of the smaller rooms," he said. "Will
monsieur follow me?"
"Why, certainly," I answered.