Nothing of intrinsic value had been stolen. I found my uncle's watch and note-case untouched. But the waistcoat had been opened; and the lining1, which formed a pocket, was, of course, empty.
For the moment I wasted no time in the Yard. Passing through the garden and the Lodge2, where I told old Valentine in a few words what had happened, I called the nearest neighbours, sent a boy running to the mayor's and went on to the disused cemetery3, accompanied by some men with ropes, a ladder and a lantern. It was growing dark when we arrived.
I had decided4 to go down the cistern5 myself; and I did so without experiencing any great emotion. Notwithstanding the reasons which led me to fear that Bérangère might have been thrown into it, the crime appeared to me to be absolutely improbable. And I was right. Nevertheless, at the bottom of the cistern, which was perforated by obvious cracks and held only a few puddles6 of stagnant7 water, I picked up in the mud, among the stones, brickbats and potsherds, an empty bottle, the neck of which had been knocked off. I was struck by its blue colour. This was doubtless the bottle which had been taken from the dresser at the Lodge. Besides, when I brought it back to the Lodge that evening, Valentine identified it for certain.
What had happened might therefore be reconstructed as follows: the man with the eye-glasses, having the bottle in his possession, had gone to the cemetery to meet the motor-car which was waiting for him and had stopped in front of the chapel8, to which were nailed the fragments from the old wall in the Yard. These fragments he had smeared9 with the liquid contained in the bottle. Then, when he heard me coming, he threw the bottle down the well and, without having time to see the picture which I myself was to see ten minutes later, he ran away and went off in the car to pick up Noël Dorgeroux's murderer near the Yard.
Things as they turned out confirmed my explanation, or at least confirmed it to a great extent. But what of Bérangère? What part had she played in all this? And where was she now?
The enquiry, first instituted in the Yard by the local police, was pursued next day by a magistrate10 and two detectives, assisted by myself. We learnt that the car containing the two accomplices12 had come from Paris on the morning of the day before and that it had returned to Paris the same night. Both coming and going it had carried two men whose descriptions tallied13 exactly with that of the two criminals.
We were favoured by an extraordinary piece of luck. A road-mender working near the ornamental14 water in the Bois de Boulogne told us, when we asked him about the motor-car, that he recognized it as having been garaged in a coach-house close by the house in which he lived and that he recognized the man with the eye-glasses as one of the tenants15 of this same house!
He gave us the address. The house was behind the Jardin des Batignolles. It was an old barrack of a tenement-house swarming16 with tenants. As soon as we had described to the concierge17 the person for whom we were searching, she exclaimed:
"You mean M. Velmot, a tall, good-looking man, don't you? He has had a furnished flat here for over six months, but he only sleeps here now and again. He is out of town a great deal."
"Did he sleep at home last night?"
"Yes. He came back yesterday evening, in his motor, with a gentleman whom I had never seen before; and they did not leave until this morning."
"In the motor?"
"No. The car is in the garage."
"Have you the key of the flat?"
"Of course! I do the housework!"
"Show us over, please."
The flat consisted of three small rooms; a dining-room and two bedrooms. It contained no clothes or papers. M. Velmot had taken everything with him in a portmanteau, as he did each time he went away, said the concierge. But pinned to the wall, amid a number of sketches18, was a drawing which represented the Three Eyes so faithfully that it could not have been made except by some one who had seen the miraculous19 visions.
"Let's go to the garage," said one of the detectives.
We had to call in a locksmith to gain admittance. In addition to the muffler and a coat stained with blood we found two more mufflers and three silk handkerchiefs, all twisted and spoilt. The identification-plate of the car had been recently unscrewed. The number, newly repainted, must be false. Apart from these details there was nothing specially20 worth noting.
I am trying to sum up the phases of the preliminary and magisterial21 enquiries as briefly22 as possible. This narrative23 is not a detective-story any more than a love-story. The riddle24 of the Three Eyes, together with its solution, forms the only object of these pages and the only interest which the reader can hope to find in them. But, at the stage which we have reached, it is easy to understand that all these events were so closely interwoven that it is impossible to separate one from the other. One detail governs the next, which in its turn affects what came before.
So I must repeat my earlier question: what part was Bérangère playing in it all? And what had become of her? She had disappeared, suddenly, somewhere near the chapel. Beyond that point there was not a trace of her, not a clue. And this inexplicable25 disappearance26 marked the conclusion of several successive weeks during which, we are bound to admit, the girl's behaviour might easily seem odd to the most indulgent eyes.
I felt this so clearly that I declared, emphatically, in the course of my evidence:
"She was caught in a trap and carried off."
"Prove it," they retorted. "Find some justification27 for the appointments which she made and kept all through the winter with the fellow whom you call the man with the glasses, in other words, with the man Velmot."
And the police based their suspicions on a really disturbing charge which they had discovered and which had escaped me. During his struggle with his assailant, very likely at the moment when the latter, after reducing him to a state of helplessness, had moved away to fetch the pick-axe, Noël Dorgeroux had managed to scrawl28 a few words with a broken flint at the foot of the screen. The writing was very faint and almost illegible29, for the flint in places had merely scratched the plaster; nevertheless, it was possible to decipher the following:
"B-ray. . . . Berge. . ."
The term "B-ray" evidently referred to Noël[Pg 119] Dorgeroux's invention. My uncle's first thought, when threatened with death, had been to convey in the briefest (but, unfortunately, also the most unintelligible) form the particulars which would save his marvellous discovery from oblivion. "B-ray" was an expression which he himself understood but which suggested nothing to those who did not know what he meant by it.
The five letters "B.E.R.G.E.," on the other hand, allowed of only one interpretation30. "Berge" stood for Bergeronnette, the pet name by which Noël Dorgeroux called his god-daughter.
"Very well," I exclaimed before the magistrate, who had taken me to the screen. "Very well, I agree with your interpretation. It relates to Bérangère. But my uncle was simply wishing to express his love for her and his extreme anxiety on her behalf. In writing his god-daughter's name at the very moment when he is in mortal danger, he shows that he is uneasy about her, that he is recommending her to our care."
"Or that he is accusing her," retorted the magistrate.
Bérangère accused by my uncle! Bérangère capable of sharing in the murder of her god-father! I remember shrugging my shoulders. But there was no reply that I could make beyond protests based upon no actual fact and contradicted by appearances.
All that I said was:
"I fail to see what interest she could have had! . . ."
"A very considerable interest: the exploitation of the wonderful secret which you have mentioned."
"But she is ignorant of the secret!"
"How do you know? She's not ignorant of it, if she is in league with the two accomplices. The manuscript which M. Dorgeroux sent you has disappeared: who was in a better position than she to steal it? However, mark me, I make no assertions. I have my suspicions, that's all; and I'm trying to discover what I can."
But the most minute investigations31 led to no result. Was Bérangère also a victim of the two criminals?
Her father was written to, at Toulouse. The man Massignac replied that he had been in bed for a fortnight with a sharp attack of influenza32, that he would come to Paris as soon as he was well, but that, having had no news of his daughter for years, he was unable to furnish any particulars about her.
So, when all was said and done, whether kidnapped, as I preferred to believe, or in hiding, as the police suspected, Bérangère was nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, the public was beginning to grow excited about a case which, before long, was to rouse it to a pitch of delirium33. No doubt at first there was merely a question of the crime itself. The murder of Noël Dorgeroux, the abduction of his god-daughter—the police consented, at my earnest entreaties34, to accept this as the official version—the theft of my uncle's manuscript, the theft of the formula: all this, at the outset, only puzzled men's minds as a cunningly-devised conspiracy35 and a cleverly-executed crime. But not many days elapsed before the revelations which I was constrained36 to make diverted all the attention of the newspapers and all the curiosity of the public to Noël Dorgeroux's discovery.
For I had to speak, notwithstanding the promise of silence which I had given my uncle. I had to answer the magistrate's questions, to tell all I knew, to explain matters, to enter into details, to write a report, to protest against ill-formed judgments37, to rectify38 mistakes, to specify39, enumerate40, classify, in short, to confide41 to the authorities and incidentally to the eager reporters all that my uncle had said to me, all his dreams, all the wonders of the Yard, all the phantasmal visions which I had beheld42 upon the screen.
Before a week was over, Paris, France, the whole world knew in every detail, save for the points which concerned Bérangère and myself alone, what was at once and spontaneously described as the mystery of the Three Eyes.
Of course I was met with irony43, sarcasm44 and uproarious laughter. A miracle finds no believers except among its astounded46 witnesses. And what but a miracle could be put forward as the cause of a phenomenon which, I maintained, had no credible47 cause? The execution of Edith Cavell was a miracle. So was the representation of the fight between two airmen. So was the scene in which Noël Dorgeroux's son was hit by a bullet. So, above all, was the looming48 of those Three Eyes, which throbbed49 with life, which gazed at the spectator and which were the eyes of the very people about to figure in the spectacle as the actors thus miraculously50 announced!
Nevertheless, one by one, voices were raised in my defence. My past was gone into, the value of my evidence was weighed; and, though people were still inclined to accuse me of being a visionary or a sick man, subject to hallucinations, at least they had to admit my absolute bona fides.[Pg 123] A party of adherents51 took up the cudgels for me. There was a noisy battle of opinions. Ah, my poor uncle Dorgeroux had asked for wide publicity52 for his amphitheatre! His fondest wishes were far exceeded by the strident and tremendous clamour which continued like an unbroken peal53 of thunder.
For the rest, all this uproar45 was dominated by one idea, which took shape gradually and summed up the thousand theories which every one was indulging. I am copying it from a newspaper-article which I carefully preserved:
"In any case, whatever opinion we may hold of Noël Dorgeroux's alleged54 discovery, whatever view we may take of M. Victorien Beaugrand's common sense and mental equilibrium55, one thing is certain, which is that we shall sooner or later know the truth. When two such competent people as Velmot and his accomplice11 join forces to accomplish a definite task, namely, the theft of a scientific secret, when they carry out their plot so skilfully56, when they succeed beyond all hopes, their object, it will be agreed, is certainly not that they may enjoy the results of their enterprise by stealth.
"If they have Noël Dorgeroux's manuscript in their hands, together with the chemical formula that completes it, their intention beyond a doubt is to make all the profits on which Noël Dorgeroux himself was counting. To make these profits the secret must first be exploited. And, to exploit a secret of this kind, its possessors must act openly, publicly, in the face of the world. And, to do this, it will not pay them to settle down in a remote corner in France or elsewhere and to set up another enterprise. It will not pay, because, in any case, there would be the same confession57 of guilt58. No, it will pay them better and do them no more harm to take up their quarters frankly59 and cynically60 in the amphitheatre of the Yard and to make use of what has there been accomplished61, under the most promising62 conditions, by Noël Dorgeroux.
"To sum up, therefore. Before long, some one will emerge from the darkness. Some one will remove the mask from his face. The sequel and the conclusion of the unfinished plot will be enacted63 in their fullness. And, three weeks hence, on the date fixed64, the 14th of May, we shall witness the inauguration65 of the amphitheatre erected66 by Noël Dorgeroux. And this inauguration will take place under the vigorous management of the man who will be, who already is, the owner of the secret: a formidable person, we must admit."
[Pg 125]The argument was strictly67 logical. Stolen jewels are sold in secret. Money changes hands anonymously68. But an invention yields no profit unless it is exploited.
Meanwhile the days passed and no one emerged from the darkness. The two accomplices betrayed not a sign of life. It was now known that Velmot, the man with the glasses, had practised all sorts of callings. Some Paris manufacturers, for whom he had travelled in the provinces, furnished an exact description of his person. The police learnt a number of things about him, but not enough to enable them to lay hands upon him.
Nor did a careful scrutiny69 of Noël Dorgeroux's papers supply the least information. All that the authorities found was a sealed, unaddressed envelope, which they opened. The contents surprised me greatly. They consisted of a will, dated five years back, in which Noël Dorgeroux, while naming me as his residuary legatee, gave and bequeathed to his god-daughter, Bérangère Massignac the piece of ground known as the Yard and everything that the Yard might contain on the day of his death. With the exception of this document, which was of no importance, since my uncle, in one of his last letters to me, had expressed different intentions,they found nothing but immaterial notes which had no bearing upon the great secret. Thereupon they indulged in the wildest conjectures70 and wandered about in a darkness which not even the sworn chemists called in to examine the screen were able to dispel71. The wall revealed nothing in particular, for the layer of plaster with which it was covered had not received the special glaze72; and it was precisely73 the formula of this glaze that constituted Noël Dorgeroux's secret.
But the glaze existed on the old chapel in the cemetery, where I had seen the geometrical figure of the Three Eyes appear. Yes, they certainly found something clinging to the surface of the fragments of plaster taken from that spot. But they were not able with this something to produce a compound capable of yielding any sort of vision. The right formula was obviously lacking; and so, no doubt, was some essential ingredient which had already been eliminated by the sun or the rain.
At the end of April there was no reason to believe in the prophecies which announced a theatrical74 culmination75 as inevitable76. And the curiosity of the public increased at each fresh disappointment and on each new day spent in waiting. Noël Dorgeroux's yard had become a[ place of pilgrimage. Motor-cars and carriages arrived in swarms77. The people crowded outside the locked gates and the fence, trying to catch a glimpse of the wall. I even received letters containing offers to buy the Yard at any price that I chose to name.
One day, old Valentine showed into the drawing-room a gentleman who said that he had come on important business. I saw a man of medium height with hair which was turning grey and with a face which was wider than it was long and which was made still wider by a pair of bushy whiskers and a perpetual smile. His threadbare dress and down-at-heel shoes denoted anything but a brilliant financial position. He expressed himself at once, however, in the language of a person to whom money is no object:
"I have any amount of capital behind me," he declared, cheerfully and before he had even told me his name. "My plans are made. All that remains78 is for you and me to come to terms."
"What on?" I asked.
"Why, on the business that I have come to propose to you!"
"I am sorry, sir," I replied, "but I am doing no business."
"That's a pity!" he cried, still more cheerfully and with his mouth spreading still farther across his face. "That's a pity! I should have been glad to take you into partnership79. However, since you're not willing, I shall act alone, without of course exceeding the rights which I have in the Yard."
"Your rights in the Yard?" I echoed, astounded at his assurance.
"Why, rather!" he answered, with a loud laugh. "My rights: that's the only word."
"I don't follow you."
"I admit that it's not very clear. Well, suppose—you'll soon understand—suppose that I have come into Noël Dorgeroux's property."
I was beginning to lose patience and I took the fellow up sharply:
"I have no time to spare for jesting, sir. Noël Dorgeroux left no relatives except myself."
"I didn't say that I had come into his property as a relative."
"As what, then?"
I was a little taken aback and, after a moment's thought, rejoined:
"Do you mean to say that Noël Dorgeroux made a will in your favour?"
"I do."
"Show it to me."
"There's no need to show it to you: you've seen it."
"I've seen it?"
I lost my temper:
"Oh, it's that you're speaking of! Well, to begin with, the will isn't valid82. I have a letter from my uncle . . ."
He interrupted me:
"That letter doesn't affect the validity of the will. Any one will tell you that."
"And then?" I exclaimed. "Granting that it is valid, Noël Dorgeroux mentions nobody in it except myself for the Lodge and his god-daughter for the Yard. The only one who benefits, except myself, is Bérangère."
"Quite so, quite so," replied the man, without changing countenance83. "But nobody knows what has become of Bérangère Massignac. Suppose that she were dead . . ."
I grew indignant:
"She's not dead! It's quite impossible that she should be dead!"
"Very well," he said, calmly. "Then suppose that she's alive, that she's been kidnapped or that she's in hiding. In any event, one fact is certain, which is that she is under twenty, consequently she's a minor84 and consequently she cannot administer her own property. From the legal point of view she exists only in the person of her natural representative, her guardian85, who in this case happens to be her father."
"And her father?" I asked, anxiously.
"Is myself."
He put on his hat, took it off again with a bow and said:
"Théodore Massignac, forty-two years of age, a native of Toulouse, a commercial traveller in wines."
It was a violent blow. The truth suddenly appeared to me in all its brutal86 nakedness. This man, this shady and wily individual, was Bérangère's father; and he had come in the name of the two accomplices, working in their interest and placing at their service the powers with which circumstances had favoured him.
"Her father?" I murmured. "Can it be possible? Are you her father?"
"Why, yes," he replied, with a fresh outburst of hilarity87, "I'm the girl's daddy and, as such, the beneficiary, with the right to draw the profits for the next eighteen months, of Noël Dorgeroux's bequest88. For eighteen months only! You can imagine that I'm itching89 to take possession[Pg 131] of the estate, to complete the works and to prepare for the fourteenth of May an inauguration worthy90 in every respect of my old friend Dorgeroux."
I felt the beads91 of perspiration92 trickling93 down my forehead. He had spoken the words which were expected and foretold94. He was the man of whom public opinion had said:
"When the time comes, some one will emerge from the darkness."
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1
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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cistern
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| n.贮水池 | |
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puddles
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| n.水坑， （尤指道路上的）雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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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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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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accomplices
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| 从犯，帮凶，同谋( accomplice的名词复数 ) | |
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tallied
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| v.计算，清点( tally的过去式和过去分词 )；加标签（或标记）于；（使）符合；（使）吻合 | |
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ornamental
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tenants
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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miraculous
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specially
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magisterial
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briefly
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narrative
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riddle
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inexplicable
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disappearance
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justification
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| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
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scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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illegible
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interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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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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influenza
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delirium
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entreaties
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conspiracy
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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rectify
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| v.订正，矫正，改正 | |
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specify
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| vt.指定，详细说明 | |
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enumerate
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| v.列举，计算，枚举，数 | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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sarcasm
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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credible
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| adj.可信任的，可靠的 | |
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looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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adherents
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| n.支持者，拥护者( adherent的名词复数 )；党羽；徒子徒孙 | |
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publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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cynically
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| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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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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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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inauguration
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| n.开幕、就职典礼 | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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anonymously
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| ad.用匿名的方式 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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dispel
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| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
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glaze
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| v.因疲倦、疲劳等指眼睛变得呆滞，毫无表情 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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culmination
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| n.顶点；最高潮 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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swarms
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| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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valid
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| adj.有确实根据的；有效的；正当的，合法的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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hilarity
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| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
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bequest
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| n.遗赠；遗产，遗物 | |
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itching
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| adj.贪得的，痒的，渴望的v.发痒( itch的现在分词 ) | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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