"It's delicious," murmured Hortense. But the next moment she added: "All the same, we did not come here to enjoy the spectacle of nature or to wonder whether that huge stone Needle on our left was really at one time the home of Arsène Lupin."
"We came here," said Prince Rénine, "because of the conversation which I overheard, a fortnight ago, in a dining-car, between a man and a woman."
"A conversation of which I was unable to catch a single word."
"If those two people could have guessed for an instant that it was possible to hear a single word of what they were saying, they would not have spoken, for their conversation was one of extraordinary gravity and importance. But I have very sharp ears; and though I could not follow every sentence, I insist that we may be certain of two things. First, that man and woman, who are brother and sister, have an appointment at a quarter to twelve this morning, the 12th of October, at the spot known as the Trois Mathildes, with a third person, who is married and who wishes at all costs to recover his or her liberty. Secondly4, this appointment, at which they will come to a final agreement, is to be followed this evening by a walk along the cliffs, when the third person will bring with him or her the man or woman, I can't definitely say which, whom they want to get rid of. That is the gist5 of the whole thing. Now, as I know a spot called the Trois Mathildes some way above Étretat and as this is not an everyday name, we came down yesterday to thwart6 the plan of these objectionable persons."
"What plan?" asked Hortense. "For, after all, it's only your assumption that there's to be a victim and that the victim is to be flung off the top of the cliffs. You yourself told me that you heard no allusion7 to a possible murder."
"That is so. But I heard some very plain words relating to the marriage of the brother or the sister with the wife or the husband of the third person, which implies the need for a crime."
They were sitting on the terrace of the casino, facing the stairs which run down to the beach. They therefore overlooked the few privately-owned cabins on the shingle8, where a party of four men were playing bridge, while a group of ladies sat talking and knitting.
Half-a-dozen bare-legged children were paddling in the water.
"No," said Hortense, "all this autumnal sweetness and charm fails to attract me. I have so much faith in all your theories that I can't help thinking, in spite of everything, of this dreadful problem. Which of those people yonder is threatened? Death has already selected its victim. Who is it? Is it that young, fair-haired woman, rocking herself and laughing? Is it that tall man over there, smoking his cigar? And which of them has the thought of murder hidden in his heart? All the people we see are quietly enjoying themselves. Yet death is prowling among them."
"Capital!" said Rénine. "You too are becoming enthusiastic. What did I tell you? The whole of life's an adventure; and nothing but adventure is worth while. At the first breath of coming events, there you are, quivering in every nerve. You share in all the tragedies stirring around you; and the feeling of mystery awakens11 in the depths of your being. See, how closely you are observing that couple who have just arrived. You never can tell: that may be the gentleman who proposes to do away with his wife? Or perhaps the lady contemplates12 making away with her husband?"
"The d'Ormevals? Never! A perfectly13 happy couple! Yesterday, at the hotel, I had a long talk with the wife. And you yourself...."
"Oh, I played a round of golf with Jacques d'Ormeval, who rather fancies himself as an athlete, and I played at dolls with their two charming little girls!"
The d'Ormevals came up and exchanged a few words with them. Madame d'Ormeval said that her two daughters had gone back to Paris that morning with their governess. Her husband, a great tall fellow with a yellow beard, carrying his blazer over his arm and puffing14 out his chest under a cellular15 shirt, complained of the heat:
"Have you the key of the cabin, Thérèse?" he asked his wife, when they had left Rénine and Hortense and stopped at the top of the stairs, a few yards away.
"Here it is," said the wife. "Are you going to read your papers?"
"Yes. Unless we go for a stroll?..."
"I had rather wait till the afternoon: do you mind? I have a lot of letters to write this morning."
"Very well. We'll go on the cliff."
Hortense and Rénine exchanged a glance of surprise. Was this suggestion accidental? Or had they before them, contrary to their expectations, the very couple of whom they were in search?
Hortense tried to laugh:
"My heart is thumping," she said. "Nevertheless, I absolutely refuse to believe in anything so improbable. 'My husband and I have never had the slightest quarrel,' she said to me. No, it's quite clear that those two get on admirably."
"We shall see presently, at the Trois Mathildes, if one of them comes to meet the brother and sister."
M. d'Ormeval had gone down the stairs, while his wife stood leaning on the balustrade of the terrace. She had a beautiful, slender, supple16 figure. Her clear-cut profile was emphasized by a rather too prominent chin when at rest; and, when it was not smiling, the face gave an expression of sadness and suffering.
"Have you lost something, Jacques?" she called out to her husband, who was stooping over the shingle.
"Yes, the key," he said. "It slipped out of my hand."
She went down to him and began to look also. For two or three minutes, as they sheered off to the right and remained close to the bottom of the under-cliff, they were invisible to Hortense and Rénine. Their voices were covered by the noise of a dispute which had arisen among the bridge-players.
They reappeared almost simultaneously17. Madame d'Ormeval slowly climbed a few steps of the stairs and then stopped and turned her face towards the sea. Her husband had thrown his blazer over his shoulders and was making for the isolated19 cabin. As he passed the bridge-players, they asked him for a decision, pointing to their cards spread out upon the table. But, with a wave of the hand, he refused to give an opinion and walked on, covered the thirty yards which divided them from the cabin, opened the door and went in.
Thérèse d'Ormeval came back to the terrace and remained for ten minutes sitting on a bench. Then she came out through the casino. Hortense, on leaning forward, saw her entering one of the chalets annexed20 to the Hôtel Hauville and, a moment later, caught sight of her again on the balcony.
"Eleven o'clock," said Rénine. "Whoever it is, he or she, or one of the card-players, or one of their wives, it won't be long before some one goes to the appointed place."
Nevertheless, twenty minutes passed and twenty-five; and no one stirred.
"Perhaps Madame d'Ormeval has gone." Hortense suggested, anxiously. "She is no longer on her balcony."
"If she is at the Trois Mathildes," said Rénine, "we will go and catch her there."
He was rising to his feet, when a fresh discussion broke out among the bridge-players and one of them exclaimed:
"Let's put it to d'Ormeval."
"Very well," said his adversary21. "I'll accept his decision ... if he consents to act as umpire. He was rather huffy just now."
They called out:
"D'Ormeval! D'Ormeval!"
They then saw that d'Ormeval must have shut the door behind him, which kept him in the half dark, the cabin being one of the sort that has no window.
"He's asleep," cried one. "Let's wake him up."
All four went to the cabin, began by calling to him and, on receiving no answer, thumped22 on the door:
"Hi! D'Ormeval! Are you asleep?"
On the terrace Serge Rénine suddenly leapt to his feet with so uneasy an air that Hortense was astonished. He muttered:
"If only it's not too late!"
And, when Hortense asked him what he meant, he tore down the steps and started running to the cabin. He reached it just as the bridge-players were trying to break in the door:
"Stop!" he ordered. "Things must be done in the regular fashion."
"What things?" they asked.
He examined the Venetian shutters23 at the top of each of the folding-doors and, on finding that one of the upper slats was partly broken, hung on as best he could to the roof of the cabin and cast a glance inside. Then he said to the four men:
"I was right in thinking that, if M. d'Ormeval did not reply, he must have been prevented by some serious cause. There is every reason to believe that M. d'Ormeval is wounded ... or dead."
"Dead!" they cried. "What do you mean? He has only just left us."
Rénine took out his knife, prized open the lock and pulled back the two doors.
There were shouts of dismay. M. d'Ormeval was lying flat on his face, clutching his jacket and his newspaper in his hands. Blood was flowing from his back and staining his shirt.
"Oh!" said some one. "He has killed himself!"
"How can he have killed himself?" said Rénine. "The wound is right in the middle of the back, at a place which the hand can't reach. And, besides, there's not a knife in the cabin."
The others protested:
"If so, he has been murdered. But that's impossible! There has been nobody here. We should have seen, if there had been. Nobody could have passed us without our seeing...."
The other men, all the ladies and the children paddling in the sea had come running up. Rénine allowed no one to enter the cabin, except a doctor who was present. But the doctor could only say that M. d'Ormeval was dead, stabbed with a dagger24.
At that moment, the mayor and the policeman arrived, together with some people of the village. After the usual enquiries, they carried away the body.
A few persons went on ahead to break the news to Thérèse d'Ormeval, who was once more to be seen on her balcony.
And so the tragedy had taken place without any clue to explain how a man, protected by a closed door with an uninjured lock, could have been murdered in the space of a few minutes and in front of twenty witnesses, one might almost say, twenty spectators. No one had entered the cabin. No one had come out of it. As for the dagger with which M. d'Ormeval had been stabbed between the shoulders, it could not be traced. And all this would have suggested the idea of a trick of sleight-of-hand performed by a clever conjuror25, had it not concerned a terrible murder, committed under the most mysterious conditions.
Hortense was unable to follow, as Rénine would have liked, the small party who were making for Madame d'Ormeval; she was paralysed with excitement and incapable26 of moving. It was the first time that her adventures with Rénine had taken her into the very heart of the action and that, instead of noting the consequences of a murder, or assisting in the pursuit of the criminals, she found herself confronted with the murder itself.
It left her trembling all over; and she stammered27: "How horrible!... The poor fellow!... Ah, Rénine, you couldn't save him this time!... And that's what upsets me more than anything, that we could and should have saved him, since we knew of the plot...."
Rénine made her sniff29 at a bottle of salts; and when she had quite recovered her composure, he said, while observing her attentively30:
"So you think that there is some connection between the murder and the plot which we were trying to frustrate31?"
"Certainly," said she, astonished at the question.
"Then, as that plot was hatched by a husband against his wife or by a wife against her husband, you admit that Madame d'Ormeval ...?"
"Oh, no, impossible!" she said. "To begin with, Madame d'Ormeval did not leave her rooms ... and then I shall never believe that pretty woman capable.... No, no, of course there was something else...."
"What else?"
"I don't know.... You may have misunderstood what the brother and sister were saying to each other.... You see, the murder has been committed under quite different conditions ... at another hour and another place...."
"And therefore," concluded Rénine, "the two cases are not in any way related?"
"Oh," she said, "there's no making it out! It's all so strange!"
Rénine became a little satirical:
"My pupil is doing me no credit to-day," he said. "Why, here is a perfectly simple story, unfolded before your eyes. You have seen it reeled off like a scene in the cinema; and it all remains32 as obscure to you as though you were hearing of an affair that happened in a cave a hundred miles away!"
Hortense was confounded:
"What are you saying? Do you mean that you have understood it? What clues have you to go by?"
Rénine looked at his watch:
"I have not understood everything," he said. "The murder itself, the mere28 brutal33 murder, yes. But the essential thing, that is to say, the psychology34 of the crime: I've no clue to that. Only, it is twelve o'clock. The brother and sister, seeing no one come to the appointment at the Trois Mathildes, will go down to the beach. Don't you think that we shall learn something then of the accomplice35 whom I accuse them of having and of the connection between the two cases?"
They reached the esplanade in front of the Hauville chalets, with the capstans by which the fishermen haul up their boats to the beach. A number of inquisitive36 persons were standing outside the door of one of the chalets. Two coastguards, posted at the door, prevented them from entering.
The mayor shouldered his way eagerly through the crowd. He was back from the post-office, where he had been telephoning to Le Havre, to the office of the procurator-general, and had been told that the public prosecutor37 and an examining-magistrate38 would come on to Étretat in the course of the afternoon.
"That leaves us plenty of time for lunch," said Rénine. "The tragedy will not be enacted39 before two or three o'clock. And I have an idea that it will be sensational40."
They hurried nevertheless. Hortense, overwrought by fatigue41 and her desire to know what was happening, continually questioned Rénine, who replied evasively, with his eyes turned to the esplanade, which they could see through the windows of the coffee-room.
"Are you watching for those two?" asked Hortense.
"Yes, the brother and sister."
"Are you sure that they will venture?..."
"Look out! Here they come!"
He went out quickly.
Where the main street opened on the sea-front, a lady and gentleman were advancing with hesitating steps, as though unfamiliar42 with the place. The brother was a puny43 little man, with a sallow complexion44. He was wearing a motoring-cap. The sister too was short, but rather stout45, and was wrapped in a large cloak. She struck them as a woman of a certain age, but still good-looking under the thin veil that covered her face.
They saw the groups of bystanders and drew nearer. Their gait betrayed uneasiness and hesitation46.
The sister asked a question of a seaman47. At the first words of his answer, which no doubt conveyed the news of d'Ormeval's death, she uttered a cry and tried to force her way through the crowd. The brother, learning in his turn what had happened, made great play with his elbows and shouted to the coast-guards:
"I'm a friend of d'Ormeval's!... Here's my card! Frédéric Astaing.... My sister, Germaine Astaing, knows Madame d'Ormeval intimately!... They were expecting us.... We had an appointment!..."
They were allowed to pass. Rénine, who had slipped behind them, followed them in without a word, accompanied by Hortense.
The d'Ormevals had four bedrooms and a sitting-room48 on the second floor. The sister rushed into one of the rooms and threw herself on her knees beside the bed on which the corpse49 lay stretched. Thérèse d'Ormeval was in the sitting-room and was sobbing50 in the midst of a small company of silent persons. The brother sat down beside her, eagerly seized her hands and said, in a trembling voice:
"My poor friend!... My poor friend!..."
Rénine and Hortense gazed at the pair of them: and Hortense whispered:
"And she's supposed to have killed him for that? Impossible!"
"Nevertheless," observed Rénine, "they are acquaintances; and we know that Astaing and his sister were also acquainted with a third person who was their accomplice. So that...."
"It's impossible!" Hortense repeated.
And, in spite of all presumption51, she felt so much attracted by Thérèse that, when Frédéric Astaing stood up, she proceeded straightway to sit down beside her and consoled her in a gentle voice. The unhappy woman's tears distressed52 her profoundly.
Rénine, on the other hand, applied53 himself from the outset to watching the brother and sister, as though this were the only thing that mattered, and did not take his eyes off Frédéric Astaing, who, with an air of indifference54, began to make a minute inspection55 of the premises56, examining the sitting-room, going into all the bedrooms, mingling57 with the various groups of persons present and asking questions about the manner in which the murder had been committed. Twice his sister came up and spoke3 to him. Then he went back to Madame d'Ormeval and again sat down beside her, full of earnest sympathy. Lastly, in the lobby, he had a long conversation with his sister, after which they parted, like people who have come to a perfect understanding. Frédéric then left. These manoeuvers had lasted quite thirty or forty minutes.
It was at this moment that the motor-car containing the examining-magistrate and the public prosecutor pulled up outside the chalets. Rénine, who did not expect them until later, said to Hortense:
"We must be quick. On no account leave Madame d'Ormeval."
Word was sent up to the persons whose evidence might be of any service that they were to go to the beach, where the magistrate was beginning a preliminary investigation58. He would call on Madame d'Ormeval afterwards. Accordingly, all who were present left the chalet. No one remained behind except the two guards and Germaine Astaing.
Germaine knelt down for the last time beside the dead man and, bending low, with her face in her hands, prayed for a long time. Then she rose and was opening the door on the landing, when Rénine came forward:
"I should like a few words with you, madame."
She seemed surprised and replied:
"What is it, monsieur? I am listening."
"Not here."
"Where then, monsieur?"
"Next door, in the sitting-room."
"No," she said, sharply.
"Why not? Though you did not even shake hands with her, I presume that Madame d'Ormeval is your friend?"
He gave her no time to reflect, drew her into the next room, closed the door and, at once pouncing59 upon Madame d'Ormeval, who was trying to go out and return to her own room, said:
"No, madame, listen, I implore60 you. Madame Astaing's presence need not drive you away. We have very serious matters to discuss, without losing a minute."
The two women, standing face to face, were looking at each other with the same expression of implacable hatred61, in which might be read the same confusion of spirit and the same restrained anger. Hortense, who believed them to be friends and who might, up to a certain point, have believed them to be accomplices62, foresaw with terror the hostile encounter which she felt to be inevitable63. She compelled Madame d'Ormeval to resume her seat, while Rénine took up his position in the middle of the room and spoke in resolute64 tones:
"Chance, which has placed me in possession of part of the truth, will enable me to save you both, if you are willing to assist me with a frank explanation that will give me the particulars which I still need. Each of you knows the danger in which she stands, because each of you is conscious in her heart of the evil for which she is responsible. But you are carried away by hatred; and it is for me to see clearly and to act. The examining-magistrate will be here in half-an-hour. By that time, you must have come to an agreement."
They both started, as though offended by such a word.
"Yes, an agreement," he repeated, in a more imperious tone. "Whether you like it or not, you will come to an agreement. You are not the only ones to be considered. There are your two little daughters, Madame d'Ormeval. Since circumstances have set me in their path, I am intervening in their defence and for their safety. A blunder, a word too much; and they are ruined. That must not happen."
At the mention of her children, Madame d'Ormeval broke down and sobbed65. Germaine Astaing shrugged66 her shoulders and made a movement towards the door. Rénine once more blocked the way:
"Where are you going?"
"I have been summoned by the examining-magistrate."
"No, you have not."
"Yes, I have. Just as all those have been who have any evidence to give."
"You were not on the spot. You know nothing of what happened. Nobody knows anything of the murder."
"I know who committed it."
"That's impossible."
"It was Thérèse d'Ormeval."
The accusation67 was hurled68 forth69 in an outburst of rage and with a fiercely threatening gesture.
"You wretched creature!" exclaimed madame d'Ormeval, rushing at her. "Go! Leave the room! Oh, what a wretch70 the woman is!"
Hortense was trying to restrain her, but Rénine whispered:
"Let them be. It's what I wanted ... to pitch them one against the other and so to let in the day-light."
Madame Astaing had made a convulsive effort to ward18 off the insult with a jest; and she sniggered:
"A wretched creature? Why? Because I have accused you?"
"Why? For every reason! You're a wretched creature! You hear what I say, Germaine: you're a wretch!"
Thérèse d'Ormeval was repeating the insult as though it afforded her some relief. Her anger was abating71. Very likely also she no longer had the strength to keep up the struggle; and it was Madame Astaing who returned to the attack, with her fists clenched72 and her face distorted and suddenly aged10 by fully73 twenty years:
"You! You dare to insult me, you! You after the murder you have committed! You dare to lift up your head when the man whom you killed is lying in there on his death-bed! Ah, if one of us is a wretched creature, it's you, Thérèse, and you know it! You have killed your husband! You have killed your husband!"
She leapt forward, in the excitement of the terrible words which she was uttering; and her finger-nails were almost touching74 her friend's face.
"Oh, don't tell me you didn't kill him!" she cried. "Don't say that: I won't let you. Don't say it. The dagger is there, in your bag. My brother felt it, while he was talking to you; and his hand came out with stains of blood upon it: your husband's blood, Thérèse. And then, even if I had not discovered anything, do you think that I should not have guessed, in the first few minutes? Why, I knew the truth at once, Thérèse! When a sailor down there answered, 'M. d'Ormeval? He has been murdered,' I said to myself then and there, 'It's she, it's Thérèse, she killed him.'"
Thérèse did not reply. She had abandoned her attitude of protest. Hortense, who was watching her with anguish75, thought that she could perceive in her the despondency of those who know themselves to be lost. Her cheeks had fallen in and she wore such an expression of despair that Hortense, moved to compassion76, implored77 her to defend herself:
"Please, please, explain things. When the murder was committed, you were here, on the balcony.... But then the dagger ... how did you come to have it ...? How do you explain it?..."
"Explanations!" sneered78 Germaine Astaing. "How could she possibly explain? What do outward appearances matter? What does it matter what any one saw or did not see? The proof is the thing that tells.... The dagger is there, in your bag, Thérèse: that's a fact.... Yes, yes, it was you who did it! You killed him! You killed him in the end!... Ah, how often I've told my brother, 'She will kill him yet!' Frédéric used to try to defend you. He always had a weakness for you. But in his innermost heart he foresaw what would happen.... And now the horrible thing has been done. A stab in the back! Coward! Coward!... And you would have me say nothing? Why, I didn't hesitate a moment! Nor did Frédéric. We looked for proofs at once.... And I've denounced you of my own free will, perfectly well aware of what I was doing.... And it's over, Thérèse. You're done for. Nothing can save you now. The dagger is in that bag which you are clutching in your hand. The magistrate is coming; and the dagger will be found, stained with the blood of your husband. So will your pocket-book. They're both there. And they will be found...."
Her rage had incensed79 her so vehemently80 that she was unable to continue and stood with her hand outstretched and her chin twitching81 with nervous tremors82.
Rénine gently took hold of Madame d'Ormeval's bag. She clung to it, but he insisted and said:
"Please allow me, madame. Your friend Germaine is right. The examining-magistrate will be here presently; and the fact that the dagger and the pocket-book are in your possession will lead to your immediate83 arrest. This must not happen. Please allow me."
His insinuating84 voice diminished Thérèse d'Ormeval's resistance. She released her fingers, one by one. He took the bag, opened it, produced a little dagger with an ebony handle and a grey leather pocket-book and quietly slipped the two into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"These things must not be left lying about. I sha'n't worry now. The magistrate will never look for them in my pocket."
"But I shall denounce you to the police," she exclaimed, indignantly. "They shall be told!"
"No, no," he said, laughing, "you won't say anything! The police have nothing to do with this. The quarrel between you must be settled in private. What an idea, to go dragging the police into every incident of one's life!"
Madame Astaing was choking with fury:
"But you have no right to talk like this, monsieur! Who are you, after all? A friend of that woman's?"
"Since you have been attacking her, yes."
"But I'm only attacking her because she's guilty. For you can't deny it: she has killed her husband."
"I don't deny it," said Rénine, calmly. "We are all agreed on that point. Jacques d'Ormeval was killed by his wife. But, I repeat, the police must not know the truth."
"They shall know it through me, monsieur, I swear they shall. That woman must be punished: she has committed murder."
Rénine went up to her and, touching her on the shoulder:
"You asked me just now by what right I was interfering86. And you yourself, madame?"
"I was a friend of Jacques d'Ormeval."
"Only a friend?"
She was a little taken aback, but at once pulled herself together and replied:
"Nevertheless, you will remain silent, as he did."
"He did not know, when he died."
"That's where you are wrong. He could have accused his wife, if he had wished. He had ample time to accuse her; and he said nothing."
"Why?"
"Because of his children."
Madame Astaing was not appeased88; and her attitude displayed the same longing89 for revenge and the same detestation. But she was influenced by Rénine in spite of herself. In the small, closed room, where there was such a clash of hatred, he was gradually becoming the master; and Germaine Astaing understood that it was against him that she had to struggle, while Madame d'Ormeval felt all the comfort of that unexpected support which was offering itself on the brink90 of the abyss:
"Thank you, monsieur," she said. "As you have seen all this so clearly, you also know that it was for my children's sake that I did not give myself up. But for that ... I am so tired ...!"
And so the scene was changing and things assuming a different aspect. Thanks to a few words let fall in the midst of the dispute, the culprit was lifting her head and taking heart, whereas her accuser was hesitating and seemed to be uneasy. And it also came about that the accuser dared not say anything further and that the culprit was nearing the moment at which the need is felt of breaking silence and of speaking, quite naturally, words that are at once a confession91 and a relief.
"The time, I think, has come," said Rénine to Thérèse, with the same unvarying gentleness, "when you can and ought to explain yourself."
She was again weeping, lying huddled92 in a chair. She too revealed a face aged and ravaged93 by sorrow; and, in a very low voice, with no display of anger, she spoke, in short, broken sentences:
"She has been his mistress for the last four years.... I can't tell you how I suffered.... She herself told me of it ... out of sheer wickedness ... Her loathing94 for me was even greater than her love for Jacques ... and every day I had some fresh injury to bear ... She would ring me up to tell me of her appointments with my husband ... she hoped to make me suffer so much I should end by killing95 myself.... I did think of it sometimes, but I held out, for the children's sake ... Jacques was weakening. She wanted him to get a divorce ... and little by little he began to consent ... dominated by her and by her brother, who is slyer than she is, but quite as dangerous ... I felt all this ... Jacques was becoming harsh to me.... He had not the courage to leave me, but I was the obstacle and he bore me a grudge96.... Heavens, the tortures I suffered!..."
"You should have given him his liberty," cried Germaine Astaing. "A woman doesn't kill her husband for wanting a divorce."
Thérèse shook her head and answered:
"I did not kill him because he wanted a divorce. If he had really wanted it, he would have left me; and what could I have done? But your plans had changed, Germaine; divorce was not enough for you; and it was something else that you would have obtained from him, another, much more serious thing which you and your brother had insisted on ... and to which he had consented ... out of cowardice97 ... in spite of himself...."
"What do you mean?" spluttered Germaine. "What other thing?"
"My death."
"You lie!" cried Madame Astaing.
Thérèse did not raise her voice. She made not a movement of aversion or indignation and simply repeated:
"My death, Germaine. I have read your latest letters, six letters from you which he was foolish enough to leave about in his pocket-book and which I read last night, six letters in which the terrible word is not set down, but in which it appears between every line. I trembled as I read it! That Jacques should come to this!... Nevertheless the idea of stabbing him did not occur to me for a second. A woman like myself, Germaine, does not readily commit murder.... If I lost my head, it was after that ... and it was your fault...."
She turned her eyes to Rénine as if to ask him if there was no danger in her speaking and revealing the truth.
"Don't be afraid," he said. "I will be answerable for everything."
She drew her hand across her forehead. The horrible scene was being reenacted within her and was torturing her. Germaine Astaing did not move, but stood with folded arms and anxious eyes, while Hortense Daniel sat distractedly awaiting the confession of the crime and the explanation of the unfathomable mystery.
"It was after that and it was through your fault Germaine ... I had put back the pocket-book in the drawer where it was hidden; and I said nothing to Jacques this morning ... I did not want to tell him what I knew.... It was too horrible.... All the same, I had to act quickly; your letters announced your secret arrival to-day.... I thought at first of running away, of taking the train.... I had mechanically picked up that dagger, to defend myself.... But when Jacques and I went down to the beach, I was resigned.... Yes, I had accepted death: 'I will die,' I thought, 'and put an end to all this nightmare!'... Only, for the children's sake, I was anxious that my death should look like an accident and that Jacques should have no part in it. That was why your plan of a walk on the cliff suited me.... A fall from the top of a cliff seems quite natural ... Jacques therefore left me to go to his cabin, from which he was to join you later at the Trois Mathildes. On the way, below the terrace, he dropped the key of the cabin. I went down and began to look for it with him ... And it happened then ... through your fault ... yes, Germaine, through your fault ... Jacques' pocket-book had slipped from his jacket, without his noticing it, and, together with the pocket-book, a photograph which I recognized at once: a photograph, taken this year, of myself and my two children. I picked it up ... and I saw.... You know what I saw, Germaine. Instead of my face, the face in the photograph was yours!... You had put in your likeness98, Germaine, and blotted99 me out! It was your face! One of your arms was round my elder daughter's neck; and the younger was sitting on your knees.... It was you, Germaine, the wife of my husband, the future mother of my children, you, who were going to bring them up ... you, you! ... Then I lost my head. I had the dagger ... Jacques was stooping ... I stabbed him...."
Every word of her confession was strictly100 true. Those who listened to her felt this profoundly; and nothing could have given Hortense and Rénine a keener impression of tragedy.
She had fallen back into her chair, utterly101 exhausted102. Nevertheless, she went on speaking unintelligible103 words; and it was only gradually by leaning over her, that they were able to make out:
"I thought that there would be an outcry and that I should be arrested. But no. It happened in such a way and under such conditions that no one had seen anything. Further, Jacques had drawn104 himself up at the same time as myself; and he actually did not fall. No, he did not fall! I had stabbed him; and he remained standing! I saw him from the terrace, to which I had returned. He had hung his jacket over his shoulders, evidently to hide his wound, and he moved away without staggering ... or staggering so little that I alone was able to perceive it. He even spoke to some friends who were playing cards. Then he went to his cabin and disappeared.... In a few moments, I came back indoors. I was persuaded that all of this was only a bad dream ... that I had not killed him ... or that at the worst the wound was a slight one. Jacques would come out again. I was certain of it.... I watched from my balcony.... If I had thought for a moment that he needed assistance, I should have flown to him.... But truly I didn't know ... I didn't guess.... People speak of presentiments105: there are no such things. I was perfectly calm, just as one is after a nightmare of which the memory is fading away.... No, I swear to you, I knew nothing ... until the moment..."
Rénine finished her sentence for her,
"Until the moment when they came and told you, I suppose?"
Thérèse stammered:
"Yes. It was not till then that I was conscious of what I had done ... and I felt that I was going mad and that I should cry out to all those people, 'Why, it was I who did it! Don't search! Here is the dagger ... I am the culprit!' Yes, I was going to say that, when suddenly I caught sight of my poor Jacques.... They were carrying him along.... His face was very peaceful, very gentle.... And, in his presence, I understood my duty, as he had understood his.... He had kept silent, for the sake of the children. I would be silent too. We were both guilty of the murder of which he was the victim; and we must both do all we could to prevent the crime from recoiling108 upon them.... He had seen this clearly in his dying agony. He had had the amazing courage to keep his feet, to answer the people who spoke to him and to lock himself up to die. He had done this, wiping out all his faults with a single action, and in so doing had granted me his forgiveness, because he was not accusing me ... and was ordering me to hold my peace ... and to defend myself ... against everybody ... especially against you, Germaine."
She uttered these last words more firmly. At first wholly overwhelmed by the unconscious act which she had committed in killing her husband, she had recovered her strength a little in thinking of what she had done and in defending herself with such energy. Faced by the intriguing109 woman whose hatred had driven both of them to death and crime, she clenched her fists, ready for the struggle, all quivering with resolution.
Germaine Astaing did not flinch110. She had listened without a word, with a relentless111 expression which grew harder and harder as Thérèse's confessions112 became precise. No emotion seemed to soften113 her and no remorse114 to penetrate115 her being. At most, towards the end, her thin lips shaped themselves into a faint smile. She was holding her prey116 in her clutches.
Slowly, with her eyes raised to a mirror, she adjusted her hat and powdered her face. Then she walked to the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Where I choose."
"To see the examining-magistrate?"
"Very likely."
"You sha'n't pass!"
"As you please. I'll wait for him here."
"And you'll tell him what?"
"Why, all that you've said, of course, all that you've been silly enough to say. How could he doubt the story? You have explained it all to me so fully."
Thérèse took her by the shoulders:
"Yes, but I'll explain other things to him at the same time, Germaine, things that concern you. If I'm ruined, so shall you be."
"You can't touch me."
"I can expose you, show your letters."
"What letters?"
"Lies, Thérèse! You know that famous plot exists only in your imagination. Neither Jacques nor I wished for your death."
"Lies! They were the letters of a friend to a friend."
"Letters of a mistress to her paramour."
"Prove it."
"They are there, in Jacques' pocket-book."
"No, they're not."
"What's that you say?"
"I say that those letters belonged to me. I've taken them back, or rather my brother has."
"You've stolen them, you wretch! And you shall give them back again," cried Thérèse, shaking her.
"I haven't them. My brother kept them. He has gone."
Thérèse staggered and stretched out her hands to Rénine with an expression of despair. Rénine said:
"What she says is true. I watched the brother's proceedings120 while he was feeling in your bag. He took out the pocket-book, looked through it with his sister, came and put it back again and went off with the letters."
Rénine paused and added,
"Or, at least, with five of them."
The two women moved closer to him. What did he intend to convey? If Frédéric Astaing had taken away only five letters, what had become of the sixth?
"I suppose," said Rénine, "that, when the pocket-book fell on the shingle, that sixth letter slipped out at the same time as the photograph and that M. d'Ormeval must have picked it up, for I found it in the pocket of his blazer, which had been hung up near the bed. Here it is. It's signed Germaine Astaing and it is quite enough to prove the writer's intentions and the murderous counsels which she was pressing upon her lover."
Madame Astaing had turned grey in the face and was so much disconcerted that she did not try to defend herself. Rénine continued, addressing his remarks to her:
"To my mind, madame, you are responsible for all that happened. Penniless, no doubt, and at the end of your resources, you tried to profit by the passion with which you inspired M. d'Ormeval in order to make him marry you, in spite of all the obstacles, and to lay your hands upon his fortune. I have proofs of this greed for money and these abominable121 calculations and can supply them if need be. A few minutes after I had felt in the pocket of that jacket, you did the same. I had removed the sixth letter, but had left a slip of paper which you looked for eagerly and which also must have dropped out of the pocket-book. It was an uncrossed cheque for a hundred thousand francs, drawn by M. d'Ormeval in your brother's name ... just a little wedding-present ... what we might call pin-money. Acting122 on your instructions, your brother dashed off by motor to Le Havre to reach the bank before four o'clock. I may as well tell you that he will not have cashed the cheque, for I had a telephone-message sent to the bank to announce the murder of M. d'Ormeval, which stops all payments. The upshot of all this is that the police, if you persist in your schemes of revenge, will have in their hands all the proofs that are wanted against you and your brother. I might add, as an edifying123 piece of evidence, the story of the conversation which I overheard between your brother and yourself in a dining-car on the railway between Brest and Paris, a fortnight ago. But I feel sure that you will not drive me to adopt these extreme measures and that we understand each other. Isn't that so?"
Natures like Madame Astaing's, which are violent and headstrong so long as a fight is possible and while a gleam of hope remains, are easily swayed in defeat. Germaine was too intelligent not to grasp the fact that the least attempt at resistance would be shattered by such an adversary as this. She was in his hands. She could but yield.
She therefore did not indulge in any play-acting, nor in any demonstration124 such as threats, outbursts of fury or hysterics. She bowed:
"We are agreed," she said. "What are your terms?"
"Go away. If ever you are called upon for your evidence, say that you know nothing."
She walked away. At the door, she hesitated and then, between her teeth, said:
"The cheque."
Rénine looked at Madame d'Ormeval, who declared:
"Let her keep it. I would not touch that money."
When Rénine had given Thérèse d'Ormeval precise instructions as to how she was to behave at the enquiry and to answer the questions put to her, he left the chalet, accompanied by Hortense Daniel.
On the beach below, the magistrate and the public prosecutor were continuing their investigations125, taking measurements, examining the witnesses and generally laying their heads together.
"When I think," said Hortense, "that you have the dagger and M. d'Ormeval's pocket-book on you!"
"And it strikes you as awfully126 dangerous, I suppose?" he said, laughing. "It strikes me as awfully comic."
"Aren't you afraid?"
"Of what?"
"That they may suspect something?"
"Lord, they won't suspect a thing! We shall tell those good people what we saw and our evidence will only increase their perplexity, for we saw nothing at all. For prudence127 sake we will stay a day or two, to see which way the wind is blowing. But it's quite settled: they will never be able to make head or tail of the matter."
"Nevertheless, you guessed the secret and from the first. Why?"
"Because, instead of seeking difficulties where none exist, as people generally do, I always put the question as it should be put; and the solution comes quite naturally. A man goes to his cabin and locks himself in. Half an hour later, he is found inside, dead. No one has gone in. What has happened? To my mind there is only one answer. There is no need to think about it. As the murder was not committed in the cabin, it must have been committed beforehand and the man was already mortally wounded when he entered his cabin. And forthwith the truth in this particular case appeared to me. Madame d'Ormeval, who was to have been killed this evening, forestalled128 her murderers and while her husband was stooping to the ground, in a moment of frenzy129 stabbed him in the back. There was nothing left to do but look for the reasons that prompted her action. When I knew them, I took her part unreservedly. That's the whole story."
The day was beginning to wane130. The blue of the sky was becoming darker and the sea, even more peaceful than before.
"What are you thinking of?" asked Rénine, after a moment.
"I am thinking," she said, "that if I too were the victim of some machination, I should trust you whatever happened, trust you through and against all. I know, as certainly as I know that I exist, that you would save me, whatever the obstacles might be. There is no limit to the power of your will."
He said, very softly:
"There is no limit to my wish to please you."
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1
villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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3
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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gist
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| n.要旨；梗概 | |
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thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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shingle
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| n.木瓦板；小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌)；v.用木瓦板盖（屋顶）；把（女子头发）剪短 | |
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9
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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awakens
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的第三人称单数 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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contemplates
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的第三人称单数 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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13
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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14
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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cellular
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| adj.移动的；细胞的，由细胞组成的 | |
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supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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19
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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annexed
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| [法] 附加的，附属的 | |
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adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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conjuror
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| n.魔术师，变戏法者 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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29
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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31
frustrate
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| v.使失望；使沮丧；使厌烦 | |
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32
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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34
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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prosecutor
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| n.起诉人；检察官，公诉人 | |
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magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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39
enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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42
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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43
puny
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| adj.微不足道的，弱小的 | |
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44
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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46
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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47
seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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48
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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49
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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50
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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51
presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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52
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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53
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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54
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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55
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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56
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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57
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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58
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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59
pouncing
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的现在分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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60
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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61
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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62
accomplices
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| 从犯，帮凶，同谋( accomplice的名词复数 ) | |
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63
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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65
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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66
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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67
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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68
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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69
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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70
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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71
abating
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| 减少( abate的现在分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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72
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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74
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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75
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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76
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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77
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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80
vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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81
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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82
tremors
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| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
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83
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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84
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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85
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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86
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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87
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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88
appeased
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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89
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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90
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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92
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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94
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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95
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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96
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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97
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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98
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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99
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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100
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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101
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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102
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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103
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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104
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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105
presentiments
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| n.（对不祥事物的）预感( presentiment的名词复数 ) | |
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106
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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107
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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108
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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109
intriguing
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| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
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110
flinch
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| v.畏缩，退缩 | |
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111
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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112
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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113
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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114
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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115
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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116
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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117
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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118
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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119
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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120
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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121
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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122
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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123
edifying
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| adj.有教训意味的，教训性的，有益的v.开导，启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
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124
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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125
investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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126
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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127
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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128
forestalled
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| v.先发制人，预先阻止( forestall的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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130
wane
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| n.衰微，亏缺，变弱；v.变小，亏缺，呈下弦 | |
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