The Secret of Sarek Maurice Leblanc (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📖

why should she conceal the truth?

She replied:

“The two boats went down.”

“What?”

“The two boats sank in view of Sarek. All on board were drowned. It was opposite the Priory⁠ ⁠… after leaving the Devil’s Passage.”

Véronique said no more, so as to avoid mentioning the names of François and his tutor or speaking of the part which these two had played. But Clémence now sat up, with distorted features. She had been leaning against the door and raised herself to her knees.

Gertrude murmured:

“And Honorine?”

“Honorine is dead.”

“Dead!”

The two sisters both cried out at once. Then they were silent and looked at each other. The same thought struck them both. They seemed to be reflecting. Gertrude was moving her fingers as though counting. And the terror on their two faces increased.

Speaking in a very low voice, as though choking with fear, Gertrude, with her eyes fixed on Véronique, said:

“That’s it⁠ ⁠… that’s it⁠ ⁠… I’ve got the total.⁠ ⁠… Do you know how many there were in the boats, without my sisters and me? Do you know? Twenty.⁠ ⁠… Well, reckon it up: twenty⁠ ⁠… and Maguennoc, who was the first to die⁠ ⁠… and M. Antoine, who died afterwards⁠ ⁠… and little François and M. Stéphane, who vanished, but who are dead too⁠ ⁠… and Honorine and Marie Le Goff, both dead.⁠ ⁠… So reckon it up: that makes twenty-six, twenty-six⁠ ⁠… The total’s correct, isn’t it?⁠ ⁠… Now take twenty-six from thirty.⁠ ⁠… You understand, don’t you? The thirty coffins: they have to be filled.⁠ ⁠… So twenty-six from thirty⁠ ⁠… leaves four, doesn’t it?”

She could no longer speak; her tongue faltered. Nevertheless the terrible syllables came from her mouth; and Véronique heard her stammering:

“Eh? Do you understand?⁠ ⁠… That leaves four⁠ ⁠… us four⁠ ⁠… the three sisters Archignat, who were kept behind and locked up⁠ ⁠… and yourself.⁠ ⁠… So⁠—do you follow me?⁠—the three crosses⁠—you know, the ‘four women crucified’⁠—the number’s there⁠ ⁠… it’s our four selves⁠ ⁠… there’s no one besides us on the island⁠ ⁠… four women.⁠ ⁠…”

Véronique had listened in silence. She broke out into a slight perspiration.

She shrugged her shoulders, however:

“Well? And then? If there’s no one except ourselves on the island, what are you afraid of?”

“Them, of course! Them!”

Véronique lost her patience:

“But if everybody has gone!” she exclaimed.

Gertrude took fright:

“Speak low. Suppose they heard you!”

“But who?”

“They: the people of old.”

“The people of old?”

“Yes, those who used to make sacrifices⁠ ⁠… the people who killed men and women⁠ ⁠… to please their gods.”

“But that’s a thing of the past! The Druids: is that what you mean? Come, come; there are no Druids nowadays.”

“Speak quietly! Speak quietly! There are still⁠ ⁠… there are evil spirits⁠ ⁠…”

“Then they’re ghosts?” asked Véronique, horror-stricken by these superstitions.

“Ghosts, yes, but ghosts of flesh and blood⁠ ⁠… with hands that lock doors and keep you imprisoned⁠ ⁠… creatures that sink boats, the same, I tell you, that killed M. Antoine, Marie Le Goff and the others⁠ ⁠… that killed twenty-six of us.⁠ ⁠…”

Véronique did not reply. There was no reply to make. She knew, she knew only too well who had killed M. d’Hergemont, Marie Le Goff and the others and sunk the two boats.

“What time was it when the three of you were locked in?” she asked.

“Half-past ten.⁠ ⁠… We had arranged to meet Corréjou in the village at eleven.”

Véronique reflected. It was hardly possible that François and Stéphane should have had time to be at half-past ten in this place and an hour later to be behind the rock from which they had darted out upon the two boats. Was it to be presumed that one or more of their accomplices were left on the island?

“In any case,” she said, “you must come to a decision. You can’t remain in this state. You must rest yourselves, eat something.⁠ ⁠…”

The second sister had risen to her feet. She said, in the same hollow and violent tones as her sister:

“First of all, we must hide⁠ ⁠… and be able to defend ourselves against them.”

“What do you mean?” asked Véronique.

She too, in spite of herself, felt this need of a refuge against a possible enemy.

“What do I mean? I’ll tell you. The thing has been talked about a lot in the island, especially this year; and Maguennoc decided that, at the first attack, everybody should take shelter in the Priory.”

“Why in the Priory?”

“Because we could defend ourselves there. The cliffs are perpendicular. You’re protected on every side.”

“What about the bridge?”

“Maguennoc and Honorine thought of everything. There’s a little hut fifteen yards to the left of the bridge. That’s the place they hit on to keep their stock of petrol in. Empty three or four cans over the bridge, strike a match⁠ ⁠… and the thing’s done. You’re just as in your own home. You can’t be got at and you can’t be attacked.”

“Then why didn’t they come to the Priory instead of taking to flight in the boats?”

“It was safer to escape in the boats. But we no longer have the choice.”

“And when shall we start?”

“At once. It’s daylight still; and that’s better than the dark.”

“But your sister, the one on her back?”

“We have a barrow. We’ve got to wheel her. There’s a direct road to the Priory, without passing through the village.”

Véronique could not help looking with repugnance upon the prospect of living in close intimacy with the sisters Archignat. She yielded, however, swayed by a fear which she was unable to overcome:

“Very well,” she said. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to the Priory and come back to the village to fetch some provisions.”

“Oh, you mustn’t be away long!” protested one of the sisters. “As soon as the bridge is cut, we’ll light a bonfire on Fairies’ Dolmen Hill and they’ll send a steamer from the mainland. Today the fog is coming up; but tomorrow⁠ ⁠…”

Véronique raised no objection. She now accepted the idea of leaving Sarek, even at the cost of an enquiry which would reveal her name.

They started, after the two sisters had swallowed a glass of brandy. The madwoman sat huddled in the wheelbarrow, laughing softly and uttering little sentences which she addressed to Véronique as though she wanted her to laugh too:

“We shan’t meet them