The Secret Of The Night(Fiscle Part 3) by Gaston Leroux (best business books of all time txt) 📖
- Author: Gaston Leroux
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Staircase Rose Amid Flame And Smoke, And The Group Which Sang The
Bodje Tsara Krani Disappeared In A Horrible Apotheosis.
Part 1 Chapter 14 (The Marshes) Pg 178
They Ascertained The Next Day That There Had Been Two Explosions,
Almost Simultaneous, One Under Each Staircase. The Two Nihilists,
When They Felt Themselves Discovered, And Watched By Ermolai, Had
Thrown Themselves Silently On Him As He Turned His Back In Passing
Them, And Strangled Him With A Piece Of Twine. Then They Separated
Each To Watch One Of The Staircases, Reasoning That Koupriane And
General Trebassof Would Have To Decide To Descend.
The Datcha Des Iles Was Nothing Now But A Smoking Ruin. But From
The Fact That The Living Bombs Had Exploded Separately The
Destructive Effect Was Diffused, And Although There Were Numerous
Wounded, As In The Case Of The Attack On The Stolypine Datcha, At
Least No One Was Killed Outright; That Is, Excepting The Two
Nihilists, Of Whom No Trace Could Be Found Save A Few Rags.
Rouletabille Had Been Hurled Into The Garden And He Was Glad Enough
To Escape So, A Little Shaken, But Without A Scratch. The Group
Composed Of Feodor And His Friends Were Strangely Protected By The
Lightness Of The Datcha's Construction. The Iron Staircase, Which,
So To Speak, Almost Hung To The Two Floors, Being Barely Attached
At Top And Bottom, Raised Under Them And Then Threw Them Off As It
Broke Into A Thousand Pieces, But Only After, By Its Very Yielding,
It Had Protected Them From The First Force Of The Bomb. They Had
Risen From The Ruins Without Mortal Wounds. Koupriane Had A Hand
Badly Burned, Athanase Georgevitch Had His Nose And Cheeks Seriously
Hurt, Ivan Petrovitch Lost An Ear; The Most Seriously Injured Was
Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, Both Of Whose Legs Were Broken.
Extraordinarily Enough, The First Person Who Appeared, Rising From
The Midst Of The Wreckage, Was Matrena Petrovna, Still Holding
Feodor In Her Arms. She Had Escaped With A Few Burns And The
General, Saved Again By The Luck Of The Soldier Whom Death Does Not
Want, Was Absolutely Uninjured. Feodor Gave Shouts Of Joy. They
Strove To Quiet Him, Because, After All, Around Him Some Poor
Wretches Had Been Badly Hurt, As Well As Poor Ermolai, Who Lay
There Dead. The Domestics In The Basement Had Been More Seriously
Wounded And Burned Because The Main Force Of The Explosion Had Gone
Downwards; Which Had Probably Saved The Personages Above.
Rouletabille Had Been Taken With The Other Victims To A Neighboring
Datcha; But As Soon As He Had Shaken Himself Free Of That Terrible
Nightmare He Escaped From The Place. He Really Regretted That He
Was Not Dead. These Successive Waves Of Events Had Swamped Him;
And He Accused Himself Alone Of All This Disaster. With Acutest
Anxiety He Had Inquired About The Condition Of Each Of "His Victims."
Feodor Had Not Been Wounded, But Now He Was Almost Delirious, Asking
Every Other Minute As The Hours Crept On For Natacha, Who Had Not
Reappeared. That Unhappy Girl Rouletabille Had Steadily Believed
Innocent. Was She A Culprit? "Ah, If She Had Only Chosen To! If
She Had Had Confidence," He Cried, Raising Anguished Hands Towards
Heaven, "None Of All This Need Have Happened. No One Would Have
Attacked And No One Would Ever Again Attack The Life Of Trebassof.
For I Was Not Wrong In Claiming Before Koupriane That The General's
Life Was In My Hand, And I Had The Right To Say To Him, 'Life For
Life! Give Me Matiew's And I Will Give You The General's.' And Now
There Has Been One More Fruitless Attempt To Kill Feodor
Feodorovitch And It Is Natacha's Fault - That I Swear, Because She
Would Not Listen To Me. And Is Natacha Implicated In It? O My God"
Rouletabille Asked This Vain Question Of The Divinity, For He
Expected No More Help In Answering It On Earth.
Natacha! Innocent Or Guilty, Where Was She? What Was She Doing?
To Know That! To Know If One Were Right Or Wrong - And If One Were
Wrong, To Disappear, To Die!
Part 1 Chapter 14 (The Marshes) Pg 179
Thus The Unhappy Rouletabille Muttered As He Walked Along The Bank
Of The Neva, Not Far From The Ruins Of The Poor Datcha, Where The
Joyous Friends Of Feodor Feodorovitch Would Have No More Good
Dinners, Never; So He Soliloquized, His Head On Fire.
And, All At Once, He Recovered Trace Of The Young Girl, That Trace
Lost Earlier, A Trace Left At Her Moment Of Flight, After The
Poisoning And Before The Explosion. And Had He Not In That A
Terrible Coincidence? Because The Poison Might Well Have Been Only
In Preparation For The Final Attack, The Pretext For The Tragic
Arrival Of The Two False Doctors. Natacha, Natacha, The Living
Mystery Surrounded Already By So Many Dead!
Not Far From The Ruins Of The Datcha Rouletabille Soon Made Sure
That A Group Of People Had Been There The Night Before, Coming
From The Woods Near-By, And Returning To Them. He Was Able To Be
Sure Of This Because The Boundaries Of The Datcha Had Been Guarded
By Troops And Police As Soon As The Explosion Took Place, Under
Orders To Keep Back The Crowd That Hurried To Eliaguine. He Looked
Attentively At The Grass, The Ferns, The Broken And Trampled Twigs.
Certainly A Struggle Had Occurred There. He Could Distinguish
Clearly In The Soft Earth Of A Narrow Glade The Prints Of Natacha's
Two Little Boots Among All The Large Footprints.
He Continued His Search With His Heart Heavier And Heavier, He Had
A Presentiment That He Was On The Point Of Discovering A New
Misfortune. The Footprints Passed Steadily Under The Branches Along
The Side Of The Neva. From A Bush He Picked A Shred Of White Cloth,
And It Seemed To Him A Veritable Battle Had Taken Place There.
Torn Branches Strewed The Grass. He Went On. Very Close To The
Bank He Saw By Examination Of The Soil, Where There Was No More
Trace Of Tiny Heels And Little Soles, That The Woman Who Had Been
Found There Was Carried, And Carried, Into A Boat, Of Which The
Place Of Fastening To The Bank Was Still Visible.
"They Have Carried Off Natacha," He Cried In A Surge Of Anguish.
"Bungler That I Am, That Is My Fault Too - All My Fault - All My
Fault! They Wished To Avenge Michael Nikolaievitch's Death, For
Which They Hold Natacha Responsible, And They Have Kidnapped Her."
His Eyes Searched The Great Arm Of The River For A Boat. The River
Was Deserted. Not A Sail, Nothing Visible On The Dead Waters!
"What Shall I Do? What Shall I Do? I Must Save Her."
He Resumed His Course Along The River. Who Could Give Him Any
Useful Information? He Drew Near A Little Shelter Occupied By A
Guard. The Guard Was Speaking To An Officer. Perhaps He Had
Noticed Something During His Watch That Evening Along The River.
That Branch Of The River Was Almost Always Deserted After The Day
Was Over. A Boat Plying Between These Shores In The Twilight Would
Certainly Attract Attention. Rouletabille Showed The Guard The
Paper Koupriane Had Given Him In The Beginning, And With The Officer
(Who Turned Out To Be A Police Officer) As Interpreter, He Asked His
Part 1 Chapter 14 (The Marshes) Pg 180Suddenly Rowed Swiftly Out Again And Accosted A Sailing-Yacht Which
Appeared At The Opening Of The Gulf. It Was One Of Those Small But
Rapid And Elegant Sailing Craft Such As Are Seen In The Lachtka
Regattas.
Lachtka! "The Bay Of Lachtka!"
The Word Was A Ray Of Light For The Reporter, Who Recalled Now The
Counsel Gounsovski Had Given Him. "Watch The Bay Of Lachtka, And
Tell Me Then If You Still Believe Natacha Is Innocent!" Gounsovski
Must Have Known When He Said This That Natacha Had Embarked In
Company With The Nihilists, But Evidently He Was Ignorant That She
Had Gone With Them Under Compulsion, As Their Prisoner.
Was It Too Late To Save Natacha? In Any Case, Before He Died, He
Would Try In Every Way Possible, So As At Least To Have Kept Her
As Much As He Could From The Disaster For Which He Held Himself
Responsible. He Ran To The Barque, Near The Point.
His Voice Was Firm As He Hailed The Canoe Of The Floating Restaurant
Where, Thanks To Him, Koupriane Had Been Thwarted In Impotent Anger.
He Had Himself Taken To Just Below Staria-Derevnia And Jumped Out
At The Spot Where He Saw Little Katharina Disappear A Few Days
Before. He Landed In The Mud And Climbed On Hands And Knees Up The
Slope Of A Roadway Which Followed The Bank. This Bank Led To The
Bay Of Lachtka, Not Far From The Frontier Of Finland.
On Rouletabille's Left Lay The Sea, The Immense Gulf With Slight
Waves; To His Right Was The Decaying Stretch Of The Marsh. Stagnant
Water Stretching To The Horizon, Coarse Grass And Reeds, An
Extraordinary Tangle Of Water-Plants, Small Ponds Whose Greenish
Scum Did Not Stir Under The Stiff Breeze, Water That Was Heavy And
Dirty. Along This Narrow Strip Of Land Thrust Thus Between The
Marsh, The Sky And The Sea, He Hurried, With Many Stumblings, His
Eyes Fixed On The Deserted Gulf. Suddenly He Turned His Head At
A Singular Noise. At First He Didn't See Anything, But Heard In
The Distance A Vague Clamoring While A Sort Of Vapor Commenced To
Rise From The Marsh. And Then He Noticed, Nearer Him, The High
Marsh Grasses Undulating. Finally He Saw A Countless Flock Rising
From The Bed Of The Marshes. Beasts, Groups Of Beasts, Whose Horns
One Saw Like Bayonets, Jostled Each Other Trying To Keep To The Firm
Land. Many Of Them Swam And On The Backs Of Some Were Naked Men,
Stark Naked, With Hair Falling To Their Shoulders And Streaming
Behind Them Like Manes. They Shouted War-Cries And Waved Their
Clubs. Rouletabille Stopped Short Before This Prehistoric Invasion.
He Would Never Have Imagined That A Few Miles From The Newsky
Prospect He Could Have Found Himself In The Midst Of Such A
Spectacle. These Savages Had Not Even A Loin-Cloth. Where Did They
Come From With Their Herd? From What Remote Place In The World Or
In Old And Gone History Had They Emerged? What Was This New
Invasion? What Prodigious Slaughter-House Awaited These Unruly
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