The Lerouge Case Émile Gaboriau (great novels TXT) 📖

“She has come to her senses; that is to say, I suppose so; for M. Noel made me leave the room. All that I do know is, that a little while ago she was talking, and talking very loudly too, for I heard her. Ah, sir, it is all the same, very strange!”

“What is strange?”

“What I heard Madame Gerdy say to M. Noel.”

“Ah ha! my girl!” sneered old Tabaret; “so you listen at keyholes, do you?”

“No, sir, I assure you; but madame cried out like one lost. She said⁠—”

“My girl!” interrupted old Tabaret severely, “one always hears wrong through keyholes. Ask Manette if that is not so.”

The poor girl, thoroughly confused, sought to excuse herself.

“Enough, enough!” said the old man. “Return to your work: you need not disturb M. Noel; I can wait for him very well here.”

And satisfied with the reproof he had administered, he picked up the newspaper, and seated himself beside the fire, placing the candle near him so as to read with ease. A minute had scarcely elapsed when he in his turn bounded in his chair, and stifled a cry of instinctive terror and surprise. These were the first words that met his eye.

“A horrible crime has plunged the village of La Jonchere in consternation. A poor widow, named Lerouge, who enjoyed the general esteem and love of the community, has been assassinated in her home. The officers of the law have made the usual preliminary investigations, and everything leads us to believe that the police are already on the track of the author of this dastardly crime.”

“Thunder!” said old Tabaret to himself, “can it be that Madame Gerdy?⁠—” The idea but flashed across his mind; he fell back into his chair, and, shrugging his shoulders, murmured⁠—“Really this affair of La Jonchere is driving me out of my senses! I can think of nothing but this Widow Lerouge. I shall be seeing her in everything now.” In the mean while, an uncontrollable curiosity made him peruse the entire newspaper. He found nothing with the exception of these lines, to justify or explain even the slightest emotion.

“It is an extremely singular coincidence, at the same time,” thought the incorrigible police agent. Then, noticing that the newspaper was slightly torn at the lower part, and crushed, as if by a convulsive grasp, he repeated⁠—“It is strange!”

At this moment the door of Madame Gerdy’s room opened, and Noel appeared on the threshold. Without doubt the accident to his mother had greatly excited him; for he was very pale and his countenance, ordinarily so calm, wore an expression of profound sorrow. He appeared surprised to see old Tabaret.

“Ah, my dear Noel!” cried the old fellow. “Calm my inquietude. How is your mother?”

“Madame Gerdy is as well as can be expected.”

“Madame Gerdy!” repeated the old fellow with an air of astonishment; but he continued, “It is plain you have been seriously alarmed.”

“In truth,” replied the barrister, seating himself, “I have experienced a rude shock.”

Noel was making visibly the greatest efforts to appear calm, to listen to the old fellow, and to answer him. Old Tabaret, as much disquieted on his side, perceived nothing. “At least, my dear boy,” said he, “tell me how this happened?”

The young man hesitated a moment, as if consulting with himself. No doubt he was unprepared for this point blank question, and knew not what answer to make; at last he replied, “Madame Gerdy has suffered a severe shock in learning from a paragraph in this newspaper that a woman in whom she takes a strong interest has been assassinated.”

“Well I never!” cried old Tabaret.

The old fellow was so astonished, that he almost betrayed himself and revealed his connection with the police. He was on the point of saying⁠—“What! your mother knew the Widow Lerouge?” By an effort he restrained himself. He had more trouble to hide his satisfaction, for he was delighted to find himself so unexpectedly on the trace of the antecedents of the victim of La Jonchere.

“She was,” continued Noel, “the slave of Madame Gerdy, devoted to her in every way! She would have sacrificed herself for her at a sign from her hand.”

“Then you, my dear friend, you knew this poor woman!”

“I had not seen her for a very long time,” replied Noel, whose voice seemed broken by emotion, “but I knew her well. I ought even to say I loved her tenderly. She was my nurse.”

“She, this woman?” stammered old Tabaret.

This time he was thunderstruck. Widow Lerouge Noel’s nurse? He was most unfortunate. Providence had evidently chosen him for its instrument, and was leading him by the hand. He was about to obtain all the information, which half an hour ago he had almost despaired of procuring. He remained seated before Noel amazed and speechless. Yet he understood, that, unless he would compromise himself, he must speak. “It is a great misfortune,” he murmured at last.

“What it is for Madame Gerdy, I cannot say,” replied Noel with a gloomy air; “but, for me, it is an overwhelming misfortune! I am struck to the heart by the blow which has slain this poor woman. Her death, M. Tabaret, has annihilated all my dreams of the future, and probably overthrown my most cherished hopes. I had to avenge myself for cruel injuries; her death breaks the weapon in my hands, and reduces me to despair, to impotence. Alas! I am indeed unfortunate.”

“You unfortunate?” cried old Tabaret, singularly affected by his dear Noel’s sadness. “In heaven’s name, what has happened to you?”

“I suffer,” murmured the barrister, “and very cruelly. Not only do I fear that the injustice is irreparable; but here am I totally without defence delivered over to the shafts of calumny. I may be accused of inventing falsehood, of being an ambitious intriguer, having no regard for truth, no scruples of conscience.”

Old Tabaret was puzzled. What connection could possibly exist between Noel’s honour and the assassination at La Jonchere? His brain was in a whirl. A thousand troubled and confused ideas jostled one