The Golden Triangle Part 60

At the touch of the cold steel he gave a moan:

"Mercy!"

"No, no, no!" said Don Luis. "You mustn't show yourself any mercy. And I won't help you either. Perhaps, if you hadn't killed my poor Ya-Bon, we might have put our heads together and sought for another ending. But, honestly, you inspire me with no more pity than you feel for yourself.

You want to die and you are right. I won't prevent you. Besides, your pa.s.sport is made out; you've got your ticket in your pocket. They are expecting you down below. And, you know, you need have no fear of being bored. Have you ever seen a picture of h.e.l.l? Every one has a huge stone over his tomb; and every one is lifting the stone and supporting it with his back, in order to escape the flames bursting forth beneath him. You see, there's plenty of fun. Well, your grave is reserved. Bath's ready, sir!"

Slowly and patiently he had succeeded in slipping the wretched man's fore-finger under the handle, so as to bring it against the trigger.

Essares was letting himself go. He was little more than a limp rag.

Death had already cast its shadow upon him.

"Mind you," said Don Luis, "you're perfectly free. You can pull the trigger if you feel like it. It's not my business. I'm not here to compel you to commit suicide, but only to advise you and to lend you a hand."

He had in fact let go the fore-finger and was holding only the arm. But he was bearing upon Essares with all his extraordinary power of will, the will to seek destruction, the will to seek annihilation, an indomitable will which Essares was unable to resist. Every second death sank a little deeper into that invertebrate body, breaking up instinct, obscuring thought and bringing an immense craving for rest and inaction.

"You see how easy it is. The intoxication is flying to your brain. It's an almost voluptuous feeling, isn't it? What a riddance! To cease living! To cease suffering! To cease thinking of that gold which you no longer possess and can never possess again, of that woman who belongs to another and offers him her lips and all her entrancing self! . . . You couldn't live, could you, with that thought on you? Then come on! . . ."

Seized with cowardice, the wretch was yielding by slow degrees. He found himself face to face with one of those crus.h.i.+ng forces, one of nature's forces, powerful as fate, which a man must needs accept. His head turned giddy and swam. He was descending into the abyss.

"Come along now, show yourself a man. Don't forget either that you are dead already. Remember, you can't appear in this world again without falling into the hands of the police. And, of course, I'm there to inform them in case of need. That means prison and the scaffold. The scaffold, my poor fellow, the icy dawn, the knife . . ."

It was over. Essares was sinking into the depths of darkness. Everything whirled around him. Don Luis' will penetrated him and annihilated his own.

For one moment he turned to Patrice and tried to implore his aid. But Patrice persisted in his impa.s.sive att.i.tude. Standing with his arms folded, he gazed with eyes devoid of pity upon his father's murderer.

The punishment was well-deserved. Fate must be allowed to take its course. Patrice did not interfere.

And Don Luis continued, unrelentingly and without intermission:

"Come along, come along! . . . It's a mere nothing and it means eternal rest! . . . How good it feels, already! To forget! To cease fighting!

. . . Think of the gold which you have lost. . . . Three hundred millions gone for ever! . . . And Coralie lost as well. Mother and daughter: you can't have either. In that case, life is nothing but a snare and a delusion. You may as well leave it. Come, one little effort, one little movement. . . ."

That little movement the miscreant made. Hardly knowing what he did, he pulled the trigger. The shot rang through the room; and Essares fell forward, with his knees on the floor. Don Luis had to spring to one side to escape being splashed by the blood that trickled from the man's shattered head.

"By Jove!" he cried. "The blood of vermin like that would have brought me ill-luck. And, Lord, what crawling vermin it is! . . . Upon my word, I believe that this makes one more good action I've done in my life and that this suicide ent.i.tles me to a little seat in Paradise. What say you, captain?"

CHAPTER XIX

FIAT LUX!

On the evening of the same day, Patrice was pacing up and down the Quai de Pa.s.sy. It was nearly six o'clock. From time to time, a tram-car pa.s.sed, or some motor-lorry. There were very few people about on foot.

Patrice had the pavement almost to himself.

He had not seen Don Luis Perenna since the morning, had merely received a line in which Don Luis asked him to have Ya-Bon's body moved into the Essares' house and afterwards to meet him on the quay above Berthou's Wharf. The time appointed for the meeting was near at hand and Patrice was looking forward to this interview in which the truth would be revealed to him at last. He partly guessed the truth, but no little darkness and any number of unsolved problems remained. The tragedy was played out. The curtain had fallen on the villain's death. All was well: there was nothing more to fear, no more pitfalls in store for them. The formidable enemy was laid low. But Patrice's anxiety was intense as he waited for the moment when light would be cast freely and fully upon the tragedy.

"A few words," he said to himself, "a few words from that incredible person known as a.r.s.ene Lupin, will clear up the mystery. It will not take him long. He will be gone in an hour. Will he take the secret of the gold with him, I wonder? Will he solve the secret of the golden triangle for me? And how will he keep the gold for himself? How will he take it away?"

A motor-car arrived from the direction of the Trocadero. It slowed down and stopped beside the pavement. It must be Don Luis, thought Patrice.

But, to his great surprise, he recognized M. Ma.s.seron, who opened the door and came towards him with outstretched hand:

"Well, captain, how are you? I'm punctual for the appointment, am I not?

But, I say, have you been wounded in the head again?"

"Yes, an accident of no importance," replied Patrice. "But what appointment are you speaking of?"

"Why, the one you gave me, of course!"

"I gave you no appointment."

"Oh, I say!" said M. Ma.s.seron. "What does this mean? Why, here's the note they brought me at the police-office: 'Captain Belval's compliments to M. Ma.s.seron. The problem of the golden triangle is solved. The eighteen hundred bags are at his disposal. Will he please come to the Quai de Pa.s.sy, at six o'clock, with full powers from the government to accept the conditions of delivery. It would be well if he brought with him twenty powerful detectives, of whom half should be posted a hundred yards on one side of Essares' property and the other half on the other.'

There you are. Is it clear?"

"Perfectly clear," said Patrice, "but I never sent you that note."

"Who sent it then?"

"An extraordinary man who deciphered all those problems like so many children's riddles and who certainly will be here himself to bring you the solution."

"What's his name?"

"I sha'n't say."

"Oh, I don't know about that! Secrets are hard to keep in war-time."

"Very easy, on the contrary, sir," said a voice behind M. Ma.s.seron. "All you need do is to make up your mind to it."

M. Ma.s.seron and Patrice turned round and saw a gentleman dressed in a long, black overcoat, cut like a frock-coat, and a tall collar which gave him a look of an English clergyman.

"This is the friend I was speaking of," said Patrice, though he had some difficulty in recognizing Don Luis. "He twice saved my life and also that of the lady whom I am going to marry. I will answer for him in every respect."

M. Ma.s.seron bowed; and Don Luis at once began, speaking with a slight accent:

"Sir, your time is valuable and so is mine, for I am leaving Paris to-night and France to-morrow. My explanation therefore will be brief. I will pa.s.s over the drama itself, of which you have followed the main vicissitudes so far. It came to an end this morning. Captain Belval will tell you all about it. I will merely add that our poor Ya-Bon is dead and that you will find three other bodies: that of Gregoire, whose real name was Mme. Mosgranem, in the barge over there; that of one Vacherot, a hall-porter, in some corner of a block of flats at 18, Rue Guimard; and lastly the body of Simeon Diodokis, in Dr. Geradec's private hospital on the Boulevard de Montmorency."

"Old Simeon?" asked M. Ma.s.seron in great surprise.

"Old Simeon has killed himself. Captain Belval will give you every possible information about that person and his real ident.i.ty; and I think you will agree with me that this business will have to be hushed up. But, as I said, we will pa.s.s over all this. There remains the question of the gold, which, if I am not mistaken, interests you more than anything else. Have you brought your men?"

"Yes, I have. But why? The hiding-place, even after you have told me where it is, will be what it was before, undiscovered by those who do not know it."

"Certainly; but, as the number of those who do know it increases, the secret may slip out. In any case that is one of my two conditions."

"As you see, it is accepted. What is the other?"

"A more serious condition, sir, so serious indeed that, whatever powers may have been conferred upon you, I doubt whether they will be sufficient."

"Let me hear; then we shall see."