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The Mischief Maker, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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Book 2 - Chapter 17. Defeat For Falkenberg |
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_ BOOK TWO CHAPTER XVII. DEFEAT FOR FALKENBERG Among the palms of Madame Christophor's conservatory, Julien and Lady Anne were living through a brief new chapter of their history. The wonderful thing had come to them. It was amazing--almost unrealizable! A new glamor enveloped the merest trifles. They spoke in halting sentences, they were at times almost incoherent. The marvel of it was so great! Lady Anne was the first to hear the sound of approaching footsteps. She listened. It was not Madame Christophor who returned. She laid her hand upon Julien's arm. "It is Jean, the butler, who comes," she whispered. "He conducts some one." On the threshold of the winter-garden, only a short distance away, they heard Jean's voice. "Monsieur le Prince will find Sir Julien Portel a few steps further on." "Monsieur le Prince!" Anne faltered, with whitening face. "Julien, what does it mean?" Julien rose to his feet. The footsteps were close at hand now upon the tessellated pavement. Then through the drooping palm boughs they saw him. Julien was standing tense and prepared, his uninjured arm was ready to strike. Falkenberg was there. "You!" Julien exclaimed. "Well?" The iron prince had disappeared. It was Herr Freudenberg, maker of toys, suave, genial, fascinating, who bowed before them. "Why so surprised, Sir Julien?" he asked. "You forget that this is my wife's house. The little difficulties which have existed between us have to-day, I am happy to say, been removed. I have restored her son to Madame la Princesse. We are reunited. Henceforth my wishes are the wishes also of madame. You will present me? It is Lady Anne Clonarty, I believe?" They were both bewildered. For the moment Falkenberg was supreme. He bowed low upon the hesitating words of introduction. "Dear Lady Anne," he murmured, "do not be prejudiced against me. Sir Julien believes that I am his enemy. I am not. I am his sincere and heartfelt admirer." Lady Anne's eyebrows were slowly raised. "You have surely," she remarked, "a strange manner of showing such sentiments!" Falkenberg smiled whimsically. He had the expression of a penitent boy who has misbehaved. "It is at least consistent," he pleaded. "I admire Sir Julien's talents to such an extent that I am perhaps a trifle too anxious that he should not use them against my country." "You haven't forced your way in here to bandy phrases," Julien asserted a little harshly. "What is it that you want?" "You!" Falkenberg answered softly. "You, my friend! Madame la Princesse--my wife, whom you have known as Madame Christophor--finds it impossible, against my wishes, to offer you any longer the shelter of her roof. I am here to escort you, if you will, to your new quarters--to follow you, if I cannot reconcile you to my company." Julien was startled, Lady Anne incredulous. "I do not believe," the former declared, "that Madame Christophor intends any such act of inhospitality." "As to that," Falkenberg replied pleasantly, "my wife will be here herself in a few moments. You shall hear what she has to say from her own lips. You must remember that I have paid a price. I have given up the guardianship of my son. You yourself," he continued, looking steadfastly at Julien, "may know if any other cause exists likely to have influenced my wife in granting my request." Julien set his teeth, but he did not flinch. "What is it that you want with me, Prince Falkenberg?" he demanded. "Another brutal attempt at massacre? I owe you this," he added, raising his bandaged arm. "Do you imagine that you can continue to use the methods of other generations with impunity? The thing is absurd. There are too many who know already the secret of Herr Freudenberg, maker of toys! There are too many who will know, also, before long, the secret of the explosion in the Rue de Montpelier!" Falkenberg nodded gravely. "I understand," he admitted. "One moves, of course, always, with the knife at one's heart. Yet, until now, I, personally, am safe. Another man dies to-night, even as we talk here, and confesses himself guilty of the Rue de Montpelier affair. But let that pass. We have crossed swords, Sir Julien, and I frankly admit, although I have gained my end to-night, that I am worsted. The money I spent to purchase _Le Jour_ has been thrown away. The months of careful intrigue, the sacrifices and efforts I have made to destroy the _entente_, have been rendered almost futile by your diabolical pen. Very well, for what you have done I will accept defeat--I will accept defeat without malice. But there is the future." "What of it?" Julien asked. "I do not intend," Falkenberg declared, in a low, firm tone, "to have you back, a member of any English Government. I prefer Carraby and such as he." "You flatter me!" Julien remarked grimly. "Not in the least," Falkenberg objected. "You know the position as well as I. The political party of which you are a member is in power for a long time. You have got hold of the middle class, you've bought the Irish vote, you've bought labor. In the ranks of your party there isn't a man whom I fear--only you. I will not have you go back." "But as it happens," Julien announced, "I am going back. I have heard from England this evening. Your friend Carraby is resigning." Falkenberg shook his head. He remained calm, but there was an ominous flash in his eyes. "You would make a mistake," he asserted. "No one ever goes back--successfully. Do I not know--I who am twenty years your senior, I who have felt my way into all the corners and crevices of life? Listen to me, please." He drew a chair towards them and sat down, crossing his knees and looking towards them both in friendly fashion. "Sir Julien," he said, "and you, my dear young lady, your entire future depends upon this little conversation. Can you not put it out of your minds for a few moments that I am the dangerous Falkenberg, the mischief-maker, the ogre of all respectable Britons? Can you not remember only that I am a well-meaning, not unkindly old gentleman who has some good advice to offer? You at least will listen to me, Lady Anne. Do I look like an assassin by choice? Do I seem like the sort of person to indulge in these dangerous exercises for mere amusement? You are both young, you have both your lives before you. Why do you, Sir Julien, voluntarily put the yoke about your neck? Why do you, my gracious young lady, suffer the man with whom your life is to be linked to deliver himself over voluntarily into a state of bondage? Politics lose all glamor to those who have dwelt within the walls. Sir Julien has dwelt there and so have I. He knows in his heart whether it is worth while. One lives always amidst a clamor of evil tongues, a pestilent trail of poisonous suspicions. One gives up one's life to be flouted and misunderstood, to be accused of evil motives and every imaginable crime. When it is all over, when one has time to think of all that one has missed, one feels that all one has done could have been done just as well by the next man in the street. That is the end of it. And against all that, you two have the world before you. You can be rich--very rich indeed. You can make an idyll of this love of yours. You can travel around the world in your own yacht, you can visit all strange countries, you can wander where you will, and all the time affairs in the world will go on very much the same as if you had stayed and given the best hours of your life to the dusty treadmill. I am an old man, Lady Anne, and I have an evil name in your country. They call me greedy, subtle, and ambitious. I may be all these things, but let me assure you that if I had my time over again my master could find another servant and my country another toiler. There are fairer flowers in life to be plucked than any which can be reached from the high places in Downing Street or Berlin.... Let me, at least, Lady Anne, make sure of your support? Mind, I am not threatening now--I plead." Lady Anne looked at him gravely. "Sir Julien," she declared, "will answer you for himself." "But I want your own decision," Falkenberg insisted. "I want you to see the truth as I see it. I want you to tell me that you agree with me." She shook her head. "But I do not!" she exclaimed. "To me you have spoken like a sophist. One does not gain happiness by seeking it. You may be honest in some part of what you say--I cannot tell. Only I think that you have mistaken Sir Julien's ideas--and mine." "You disappoint me!" Falkenberg murmured. Sir Julien smiled. "Not very much, I think," he said. "You always did believe in trying the hundredth chance. Let us come back to the reasonable part of our discussion. Do you propose, then, that I should leave this house at this moment with you?" "My car is entirely at your service," Falkenberg suggested. "Do I seem to you so ingenuous?" Julien inquired. "I am wondering what resources are open to me. I might propose to Lady Anne here that she telephone for the gendarmes. Why should I not have an escort to take me to an hotel?" Falkenberg shrugged his shoulders. "I like the idea," he admitted. "By all means, do as you say. Only do me the favor to remember that this is my wife's house and with her authority I request that you leave it immediately." "I wonder," Julien asked, "what may be in store for me?--what pleasant schemes you have hatched?" Falkenberg shrugged his shoulders. "Listen," he said,--"if you listen attentively you will hear the murmur of Paris calling you back. Almost you can hear the falling of a thousand feet upon the pavements of the boulevards, the voice of life. You may find an asylum there. Who can tell?" They heard the soft swirl of a woman's gown passing over the marble floor. They all turned. It was Madame Christophor who stood there. "Still here?" she remarked. Julien frowned. "It is not my intention to linger," he assured her. "Prince von Falkenberg has given me your message. I am prepared to go." Lady Anne moved hastily forward. "Do you know," she cried, "that they will kill him? Do you know that this man," she added, pointing to Falkenberg, "has admitted it? Would you dare to send him out to be butchered in the streets?" "The young lady exaggerates," Falkenberg protested. "This is a perfectly respectable neighborhood. What possible harm can come to an English gentleman? Besides, I have offered him, if he will, the protection of my car." Madame Christophor sighed. She waved back Sir Julien. "Alas!" she exclaimed, "there has been a slight misunderstanding." She touched a bell which stood on the table by her side. Almost immediately a tall, pale-faced man in dark clothes appeared, followed by Jean, the butler. "My dear Prince," she said to her husband, "I do assure you that you need have no special anxiety. Let me present to you Monsieur Bourgan of the French Detective Service. Monsieur Bourgan--the Prince von Falkenberg--Sir Julien Portel!" Monsieur Bourgan saluted. The two men looked at him,--as yet they scarcely understood. "I suppose," Madame Christophor continued, "that I am a somewhat nervous woman, but you see I can always plead the privilege of my sex. I was delighted to have Sir Julien here with me, but in a sense it was a responsibility. It occurred to me then to send a message to the Minister of the Police, who happens to be a great friend of mine, and at his suggestion Monsieur Bourgan here, who is, as I have no doubt you both well know, very distinguished in the Service, has taken up his residence in my house. He has occupied, as a matter of fact, the next room to Sir Julien's. Forgive me," she added, smiling at them all, "if I kept this little matter secret, but I know that men hate a fuss. I propose, dear Prince," she added, turning to her husband, "that Monsieur Bourgan accompanies you to your rooms. You need not fear then any molestation." There was an absolute silence. It was broken at last by the Prince von Falkenberg. "I must confess," he said slowly, "that I do not altogether understand." Madame Christophor faced him with a faint smile upon her lips. The smile itself told him all that he desired to know. "But, my dear Prince," she declared, "it is my anxiety for your safety which induces me to propose this. Only a few minutes ago you were telling me that you feared that you had become an extremely unpopular person in Paris, and that the very streets were not safe for you. Under the circumstances, one can scarcely wonder at it! The French Government, however, is above all small feelings. A private citizen in Paris, even though he be an enemy of France, is a person to be respected. The protection of the detective force of Paris is at your service. Monsieur Bourgan, you will do me the great favor of conducting my husband to his rooms. Afterwards you will return here to continue your watch over Sir Julien." "I am entirely at your command, madame," Monsieur Bourgan replied. Falkenberg hesitated for one single moment. He seemed to be measuring the distance between Julien and himself. Under the pretense of picking up a match, Monsieur Bourgan was almost between them. Falkenberg laughed softly, then most graciously he made his adieux. "Lady Anne," he said, bowing, "one is permitted to wish you every happiness? Sir Julien, let me assure you," he continued, "that it has been a pleasure to renew our acquaintance. Dear Henriette," he added, "this care for my safety touches me! And the boy?" "He is safe in my room," she assured him. "It is absurd of me, no doubt, but I have turned the key upon him and placed a footman outside the door. Take care of yourself, dear Rudolf. Monsieur Bourgan, I know, will watch over you well. Yet you are one of those who take risks always." Falkenberg raised her fingers to his lips. "Almost, dear Henriette," he murmured, "you make me regret that I ever have to leave Paris at all." She leaned a little towards him. "I bear you no ill-will, Rudolf," she said softly. "Take my advice. Leave Paris quickly." His eyes held hers as though seeking for some meaning to her words. She only shook her head. He turned and followed Jean. Monsieur Bourgan brought up the rear. Madame Christophor shrugged her shoulders. "Really," she declared, with a sigh, "life is becoming altogether too complicated. Never mind, I have got rid of Prince Falkenberg for you, Sir Julien. Between ourselves, I think that he will receive a hint to leave Paris, and before very long. Listen--there goes his car." "Dear Madame Christophor," Lady Anne whispered, "you are wonderful!" Madame Christophor was already moving away. "Not really wonderful," she replied. "Only a little human. I must go to my boy." _ |
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