MARCEL 
 LEVIGNET 
 
 ELWYN BARRO
 
 '< 
 
 ' 
 
 8. F. McLEAN. BOOK9BLLW, 
 848 80. BROADWAYf

 
 MARCEL LEVIGNET
 
 MARCEL 
 LEVIGNET 
 
 BY 
 
 Elwyn Barren 
 
 Author of "Manners," etc. 
 
 New York 
 
 Duffield & Company 
 1906
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY 
 DUFFIELD AND COMPANY 
 
 Published, September, igo6
 
 MARCEL LEVIGNET 
 
 2134271
 
 Marcel Levignet 
 
 ETERING down the stairs of the Grand 
 Opera House, rather glad to get away from 
 an indifferent performance of " Faust " 
 for it was the summer season I came upon my 
 friend of the boulevards, Marcel Levignet, lei- 
 surely puffing a cigarette in the lower promenade. 
 
 Levignet, though a man of light humour and 
 sunny temper, was the personification of grief when 
 in repose. " Good Monsieur Melancholy," I named 
 him, borrowing the phrase from Orlando. But 
 his was a sweet pathos, that attracted sympathy 
 and won regard. One felt the impulse to lock arms 
 with him, bear him off to some snug corner, and, 
 over a consolatory bottle, bid him unburden his 
 heart of its sorrows. If, however, Levignet had any 
 memories gnawing into the treasury of his soul, he 
 never betrayed it in word or conscious sign, for a 
 more cheerful good fellow never gave wings to 
 heavy hours. To touch his arm or speak his name 
 was to turn on an animating current to illuminate 
 with pleasure his sallow countenance, made darker 
 by the abundant white hair that fell over his
 
 io Marcel Levignet 
 
 shoulders and the grey moustache that could not 
 conceal a smile the most persuasive. 
 
 " Will you go back for the third act? " I asked, 
 lighting a cigar from his cigarette. 
 
 " It's a deuced bore, you comprehend, to listen to 
 opera without singers. The ballet is well enough, 
 if only you didn't have to suffer those voices. I 
 think I shall not go back. And you ? " 
 
 " I was escaping when I found you." 
 
 "Are you alone? " 
 
 " The same thing. My friend is a ' Faust ' en- 
 thusiast. He will stay. He sings to himself, you 
 know." 
 
 " The devil I Those fellows. One sat behind 
 me. He kept me awake. You cannot scowl them 
 into decency. They are democrats. He will join 
 you?" 
 
 " After the opera." 
 
 " Well, you have two hours on your hands. 
 What will you do with them ? " 
 
 " Anything. They are yours, if you will have 
 them." 
 
 " You are very kind with your gratuities; but it 
 is too early to make use of them." 
 
 " We might stroll down the boulevard." 
 
 " You see I have my third leg," holding to my 
 view an uncommonly stout stick. " I never play 
 the dandy with that." 
 
 "An accident?"
 
 Marcel Levignet 1 1 
 
 "No; a memento of '71 that occasionally re- 
 minds me that I fought for the Third Empire." 
 
 " You never told me you were in the war." 
 
 " Every Frenchman with heart enough to hate a 
 Prussian was in the war. But I never think of it 
 until I get the knee-ache. Heaven! it hardly 
 cracked a bone, and yet without doubt those Ger- 
 mans poison their bullets! Which way shall we 
 turn?" 
 
 We were now at the Boulevard des Capucines, 
 and the cafe tables on the pavement were rather 
 inviting to a man an-hungered and athirst, for I 
 had driven in after lounging the day away at Ver- 
 sailles, and had missed my dinner. I proposed 
 that we sit down for a bit of something and a glass 
 to wash it down. 
 
 " Not here," dissented Levignet; " I should not 
 have a moment's peace with you. It is a pest, let 
 me tell you, to know every cafe loiterer, trousered 
 and frocked, that just fails of respectability. The 
 Riche is but a pistol-shot away. We can slip into 
 a snug corner and be alone. It is the swarm 
 of foreigners the English and you Americans 
 have a way of taking possession of it. But you 
 pay for it. I will what do you say? stand 
 treat." 
 
 We were already moving in that direction, but 
 I affected to demur, being willing to let him pay 
 the shot provided he would agree to tell me, as we
 
 12 Marcel Levignet 
 
 ate, a half-promised story of the Third Napoleon's 
 coup d'etat. 
 
 " That, and another very much more piquant. 
 For example, did you ever hear the story of the 
 grand fete in the Tuileries gardens, when nude 
 young women were perched on pedestals as statues ? 
 My faith! you look incredulous. But it was so. 
 Humph! It was not all unchecked wantonness, 
 just the same. A stout old soldier of the guard 
 stopped before one of these unfortunates of imper- 
 ial caprice, levelled his carbine and piff one of 
 the pedestals was empty. In the old Roman days, a 
 father had such rights, but in modern France 
 especially when the matter in a measure disturbed 
 the serenity of a festival it was not to be counte- 
 nanced. There was also a vacancy in the guard. 
 Ah, well ! Monarchs must be amused, you know. 
 True? On the honour of a soldier. No doubt 
 there is a record of it. Some day the memoirs of 
 Louis Napoleon will be written without political 
 reserve. If you live to read them well, you shall 
 marvel. Ah! if they only dared set down plain 
 truth about the first Napoleon! That man was 
 in more ways extraordinary than at the head of an 
 army or on the throne of the Bourbons. But you 
 and I, how shall we measure or sit in judgment 
 upon genius ? It is a world and a law unto itself. 
 Nature makes her own averages. Extremes in one 
 direction necessitate extremes in the opposite. A
 
 Marcel Levignet 13 
 
 great soldier may want morals. What goes to 
 make up a particular genius must impoverish other 
 qualities. Is it not so? " 
 
 When we arrived at the cafe there were few per- 
 sons at the tables, the hour being early. Levignet 
 was to be communicative, I saw, and I congratu- 
 lated myself upon that timely escape from the 
 opera. He proceeded to the business of ordering 
 a little supper, giving his directions very carefully 
 about the wine, which he wanted chilled to an 
 exact degree, and after the excessively dignified 
 waiter had gone, rolled a fresh cigarette and settled 
 himself to be very much at ease. 
 
 Levignet's air and appearance were an agree- 
 able compromise between the military and the 
 artistic. He had the comfortable nonchalance of 
 terrene proprietorship that the vulgar strive for, 
 but which settles upon the man of the world only 
 after he learns in all schools of experience that un- 
 perturbed amiability and perfect willingness to let 
 every man hold by his own opinions are the high- 
 est social achievments. I thought him the most 
 enviable creature living as he leaned lazily back, 
 blew a cloud of smoke, and said: 
 
 " Now we may be happy ! " 
 
 " I shall be happy," I responded, smilingly, " if 
 you will tell me the story of the pile of thousand 
 franc notes." 
 
 "That Louis Napoleon stole from himself?
 
 14 Marcel Levignet 
 
 It was very droll. Rather a clever way to kill off 
 his troublesome partners, Cornemuse and St. Ar- 
 naud, but far from honourable. As the story goes 
 the Emperor, one morning, received from these 
 gentlemen a more than commonly imperious de- 
 mand for money, and resolved to put an end to 
 these reprisals. But how to do it? Suddenly a 
 plan suggested itself, a bit of strategy, a trick to set 
 them to fighting. He proceeded to act upon it at 
 once Mon Dieu ! It is Toinette I "
 
 II 
 
 A STRIKINGLY handsome woman entered 
 the room as he spoke, leaning upon the 
 arm of a man of distinguished appearance 
 despite the fact that he was slight and but little 
 above the medium size. She was slender, but of 
 those gracefully symmetrical proportions that ap- 
 peal so strongly to artistic sensibilities, and bore 
 herself with a harmony of proud dignity and lan- 
 guorous ease, possible only with a woman long ac- 
 customed to universal admiration and conscious of 
 her right to admiration, yet quite indifferent to 
 those over whom the spell of her enchantment is 
 cast. She was, perhaps, five-and-twenty, but in her 
 face a perfect oval, of the colour of ivory just 
 touched with the crimson glow of warm young 
 blood there was the indefinable evidence of a 
 mind early matured and fashioned in the school of 
 experience. Her dark eyes, shadowed by uncom- 
 monly long and curving lashes, were luminous of 
 a joyous spirit, tinged in a perplexing way by sad- 
 ness. Her hair black, with a faint gloss, its natural 
 tendency to curl manifest in the ripples of its broad 
 folds, was caught negligently over a broad, high 
 brow indicative of intellectual qualities and force 
 
 15
 
 1 6 Marcel Levignet 
 
 of character, as her mouth and delicate nose were 
 of aesthetic sensibility. An air of the utmost re- 
 finement completed the fascination of a beauty en- 
 hanced by the quiet elegance of her attire. She 
 and her escort took seats at a table in one of the 
 angles of the room, and, as she sat against the white 
 and gold background of the wall, the vision of love- 
 liness was quite enough to justify the exclamation 
 of Levignet: 
 
 "Divine! 
 
 " And yet," he added, " she is not celestial, 
 either." 
 
 "You know her?" 
 
 " I know that if there is a more ravishingly 
 beautiful creature in Paris, she wears the cap of 
 invisibility." 
 
 Levignet let a cloud of smoke curl lazily from 
 his mouth, and peered through its drifting haze at 
 the lovely 'Toinette with the evident satisfaction 
 of a connoisseur scrutinising a rare work of art. 
 There was nothing of the voluptuary about this 
 habitue of the boulevards and cafes, though his 
 profession of faith was hedonistic. He remained 
 so long silently contemplative that I felt a war- 
 ranted impatience. 
 
 " Confound it, Levignet, do you think I got rid 
 of curiosity with my verdancy? You excite the 
 liveliest anticipations and then, with the most pro- 
 voking sang-froid, cut one adrift and lapse into
 
 Marcel Levignet 17 
 
 dreams. Come to the rescue, man. Who is the 
 lady?" 
 
 " You are right," said Levignet, with a slight 
 laugh, and making a peculiarly graceful gesture 
 with his left hand as if wafting a kiss to a distance. 
 " When the wine comes, we shall drink to the 
 health and long life of beauty. So you are inter- 
 ested, my dear Summerville? You were a dull 
 dog did not that face stimulate your fancy. But 
 that is a story will keep. My faith! it has been 
 kept well enough these half dozen years. I know 
 some ten or twenty gardens of the quill, any one of 
 whom would give an ear for the details. Eh, 
 well. You were asking about the affair of the 
 bank-notes." 
 
 " I prefer to hear the story of your 'Toinette, if 
 it is all the same to you, Monsieur Tantaliser." 
 
 Levignet raised his glass. 
 
 " It was very curious. Louis Napoleon was not 
 by any means a fool, let me persuade you. No 
 man is, for that matter, who knows how to get a 
 throne even that of France, which always invites 
 the audacious. You know how the coup was ef- 
 fected. The chief aiders and abettors of Louis, 
 besides the Due de Mornay, were General Corne- 
 muse and General St. Arnaud, without whom he 
 scarcely could have succeeded. They, indeed, did 
 the work for him. They kept him well reminded 
 of this fact after he became Emperor, and made
 
 1 8 Marcel Levignet 
 
 such demands for money upon him, that it became 
 a vexatious problem with him how to get rid of 
 them and their exactions. He was not without 
 fertility of a mischievous sort. I could tell you 
 forty stories to prove that point. The great must 
 be expedient, or the devil take them 1 " 
 " Which he is like to do in any event." 
 " Eh? I do not follow you. But to our mut- 
 tons. One morning the Emperor received my fine 
 generals in a mood the most amiable. They had 
 come in their usual fashion of cheerful insolence, 
 accounting themselves in some manner the masters 
 of the Empire, and were not a little disconcerted 
 by the unexpected good-nature of their unwilling 
 purse-bearer. Louis chatted and jested in the live- 
 liest vein, and with the most cordial spirit imagin- 
 able took from his pocket and placed on the mantle- 
 piece a joy-exciting pile of thousand-franc notes. 
 He then diverted his guests with the most piquant 
 anecdotes, and quite made them forget for a time 
 the fact that they were there to bully him out of a 
 snug part of his imperial profits. Laughing and 
 joking in this way, Louis finally placed himself in 
 front of the fireplace, with his back to the fire, and, 
 in a happily chosen moment, whipped the bank- 
 notes into his pocket, unobserved by either of the 
 others. 
 
 " Then, pretending a necessity to go into the 
 adjoining room, he excused himself for a moment
 
 Marcel Levignet 19 
 
 and retired. After an absence of perhaps ten 
 minutes, he returned, seemingly somewhat vexed, 
 and said in a brusque way: 
 
 "'Pardon me, gentlemen; I quite forgot that 
 you came on business. Let us attend to it. Here 
 are some thousands of francs ' 
 
 " The rascal turned to the mantelpiece, stopped 
 short in his speech, looked, with an excellent 
 counterfeit of surprise, where the notes were not, 
 and then, in a comical way said : 
 
 " ' But I see you did not wait for me to give them 
 to you. Well, did you divide them fairly? ' 
 
 " Was ever impudence greater? For my part, I 
 wonder this superb charlatan's effrontery did not 
 save him from Sedan. 
 
 " Cornemuse and St. Arnaud looked at each 
 other in amazement, the one suspicious of the 
 other instantly. How easily knaves fall out, my 
 friend! Finally, Cornemuse stammered out: 
 * Sire, I hope you do not suspect that I ' 
 
 " ' Do you dare insinuate ' interrupted St. 
 
 Arnaud, hotly, and in the twinkle of an eye a pretty 
 quarrel was delighting the soul of the imperial 
 hypocrite, who affected to be greatly distressed by 
 the question of honour so infelicitously raised. He 
 took care that his words should increase the choler 
 of the disputing gentlemen, however, and when 
 they proposed to settle the matter at the sword's 
 point, there and then, he begged that they would
 
 20 Marcel Levignet 
 
 withdraw into the garden, where he hoped they 
 might adjust their differences amicably. 
 
 " A scurvy trick might dupe as wise a person as 
 you, friend Summerville, and those two gamesters 
 with fortune were thoroughly taken in, I assure 
 you. They bolted from the room to descend into 
 the garden, but Cornemuse, the more precipitate of 
 the two, was incautious enough to start first down 
 the secluded stairway. The wily St. Arnaud per- 
 ceived the advantage chance or his own discretion 
 had given into his hands, and, not to be inapprecia- 
 tive of the partial attention, out with his sword and 
 thrust the blade effectually into the back of the 
 foolish Cornemuse." 
 
 " Cowardly enough," I remarked. 
 
 "Say, rather, strategic, my dear Summerville; 
 an instance of the presence of mind that in all great 
 crises discriminates the man of success from the 
 man of failure. There was no one to be too critical 
 whether the sword entered from the front or the 
 rear, the name of duel covered up the crime of 
 assassination, and Louis Napoleon was rid of one 
 of his troublesome partners at no expense to him- 
 self." 
 
 " You put it felicitously, upon my word ! " 
 
 " I am giving you facts, not indulging a fancy 
 for heroics. Besides, it is all one to me how a 
 scoundrel or a blackguard makes his exit from the 
 comedy of life whether by the spado of the bravo
 
 Marcel Levignet 2 1 
 
 or the nostrum of the quack. The important thing 
 is that he makes his exit. This little episode of 
 which I have been at pains to tell you with a dry 
 throat, happened opportunely on the eve of the 
 trouble in the Crimea. Cornemuse being out of 
 the way, the simple question how to be quit of St. 
 Arnaud was answered in the most satisfactory 
 manner. 
 
 " He was commissioned to the war. Louis 
 sent him in command to the Crimea, and there, 
 presently, he died, of the cholera, it was officially 
 reported of poison, it was privately whispered. 
 Thus was the triumvirate dissolved to the peace of 
 the nephew of his uncle. Eh, bienf Again I say, 
 Louis Napoleon was no fool; but 'tis a pity the 
 back stairs or a cup of poison could not have availed 
 against those cursed Prussians. Ah, gargon, the 
 wine at last! Be quick; fill me a glass! I am 
 perishing. Confound you, Summerville, for hav- 
 ing me babble in this fashion with dessicated lips I 
 I see where your eyes are feasting. Come on, then; 
 here is to the lovely 'Toinette Beaudais may time 
 be damned if he impoverish her beauty! " 
 
 Whether deliberately or unconsciously, I could 
 not say, but Lev.ignet's gay tone was so loud that it 
 attracted the attention of the couple at the table in 
 the corner, and I saw their quick exchange of 
 startled glances, the face of the man clouding 
 angrily.
 
 22 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " They heard you," I protested, feeling some- 
 what uncomfortable. 
 
 " You alarm yourself, my dear friend. They 
 are too much occupied the one with the other to be 
 aware of us or our words." 
 
 Nevertheless, as he drank his wine in generous 
 draughts, the gentleman arose from the table, 
 bowed ceremoniously to the lady and came calmly 
 toward us. Stopping a little in front of Levignet, 
 he said, in politely modulated tones and with pre- 
 cise courtesy: 
 
 " It was your pleasure, monsieur, to call out the 
 name of madame." 
 
 " Monsieur was attentive," answered Levignet, 
 imperturbably. " It was my pleasure to drink the 
 health of beauty." 
 
 " You are insolent, monsieur," said the other. 
 ' You are candid, monsieur," responded 
 Levignet. 
 
 " I have the honour to make request of your 
 card," placing his own card, as he spoke, on the 
 corner of the table. 
 
 " It is at your service," said Levignet, taking 
 one from his case. " A moment, if you please." 
 
 He wrote with a pencil under his name, " For- 
 merly sub-prefect of police," and handed the card 
 to the stranger. " I shall take coffee at the first 
 table in the cafe of the Grand Hotel precisely at 
 ten o'clock in the morning."
 
 Marcel Levignet 23 
 
 " Thank you, monsieur." The gentleman 
 bowed, and retired. 
 
 The lady, who was evidently much disturbed, 
 had risen from the table, and advanced a little to 
 meet her escort as he returned. The gentleman 
 urged her to be seated again, but she declined, and 
 he turned to summon the waiter. As he did so, 
 'Toinette took the card which he had kept in his 
 hand, and as she read the superscription, gave a cry 
 that, under other circumstances, I might have 
 thought one of mingled pleasure and surprise. She 
 held it to the view of her companion and I dis- 
 tinctly heard her say : 
 
 " Regardez, mon man! C'est Levignet, mon 
 bienfaiteur! " 
 
 "Comment?" 
 
 Levignet heard, too, and smiled. 
 
 There was a whispered conference between the 
 two, after which the gentleman, with the card ex- 
 tended in his hand, approached Levignet and said 
 with dignity: 
 
 " I have the honour to return your card, mon- 
 sieur. It will not be necessary to disturb you at 
 coffee in the morning. Madame begs to assure 
 you of her grateful remembrance." 
 
 " Since you permit me, monsieur," Levignet 
 replied, " Madame has no more respectful admirer 
 than your servant. The offence given was the most 
 inadvertent, and monsieur and madame have my
 
 24 Marcel Levignet 
 
 profoundest regrets and apologies." Levignet 
 arose as he spoke, and bowed in a way to include 
 madame in the obeisance. 
 
 " It is I who apologise," said the other, bowing 
 in his turn. A minute later the gentleman had 
 feed the waiter and had left the cafe with " 'Toin- 
 ette." 
 
 Levignet's regard followed them until they 
 passed out the door, his lips wearing a peculiar, 
 half pensive smile, his fingers playing with one end 
 of his moustache. Though I burned with curious 
 impatience for an explanation of a scene through 
 which I had sat with anything but composed emo- 
 tions, I did not disturb the reverie of my friend, but 
 sipped my wine in silence as the waiter served the 
 supper. 
 
 After a time he roused himself and, smiling upon 
 me, said: 
 
 " You make no comment, Summerville." 
 
 " My dear Levignet," I answered, " my ears are 
 at your service." 
 
 " Very well. When we come to our cigars, I 
 shall puncture them with a strange tale." 
 
 " I see you are resolved to give me an indiges- 
 tion." 
 
 " My dear young friend, philosophy is an excel- 
 lent aperient. You shall be taught patience." 
 
 There was not too much to eat, but the meal was 
 interminable. Finally, I exclaimed :
 
 Marcel Levignet 25 
 
 " Confound it, Levignet ! I shall go back to the 
 opera. It is less a trial than you are, for there, at 
 least, I know what is coming." 
 
 " And therefore you are not in the least piqued 
 to interest. But have at you! Here is a story 
 known to but four people on earth, Monsieur le 
 Baron de Noel, the polite gentleman whose card I 
 have; 'Toinette, the beautiful lady who has the 
 honour to be the Baron's wife ; an interesting female 
 Mephisto of the social world; and your most oblig- 
 ing friend, who is about to admit you to another of 
 the professional confidences of which you have 
 proved yourself deserving in the years of our ac- 
 quaintance." 
 
 He took a mouthful of fish. 
 
 " Ah 1 when it comes to sole, one must really give 
 the first place to the Cafe Margery. But this is 
 very good." 
 
 I ventured no opinion, and, after a time, he gave 
 his moustache the preparatory twirl for which I 
 was waiting. 
 
 " I must inform you, my dear Summerville, that 
 from the day I left the University, about half 
 educated, though I got a sheepskin, I have been a 
 fellow of eccentric impulses. My father had the 
 thoughtful care to make a fortune in chocolate, and 
 was considerate enough to die and leave me rich 
 before I had become a patron of the barbers. It 
 had been his desire that I take up either the law or
 
 26 Marcel Levignet 
 
 medicine, but, as he did not wait to see me placed, 
 I thought it rather a waste of energies to adopt a 
 troublesome profession, since I already had the 
 substantial rewards of industry, and recognised no 
 necessity to struggle for an increase of that of 
 which I possessed more than I could spend decently 
 in an average lifetime. But I was of an experi- 
 mental and inquisitive mind, and there were certain 
 occupations that offered me diversion without im- 
 posing upon me any tedious grind by way of prep- 
 aration. I used to haunt the studios of artists 
 and, fascinated by the studies of life which chiefly 
 engaged the young painters, I became a dauber in 
 oils, a spoiler of canvas. I might have achieved a 
 famous success had that been the day of our impres- 
 sionists, for, to tell you the truth, nothing was 
 more difficult than to determine whether my paint- 
 ing was intended to represent a tranquil landscape 
 or a storm at sea, a revel of fairies or the feeding 
 of sheep. I persevered, however, with the satis- 
 faction of an enthusiast until the rascally artists 
 held a solemn convocation, very ceremoniously pre- 
 sented me with an engraved pewter medal, and, in 
 a series of speeches that might have been inspired 
 by a Raphael, graduated me from their studios and 
 locked the doors against me, so that the world at 
 large should have the benefit of my genius. ' Come 
 to Hecuba ' ? What the deuce do you mean by 
 bidding me ' come to Hecuba ' ? Another name
 
 Marcel Levignet 27 
 
 for 'Toinette? Eh, bienf I choose my own road to 
 a destination. If you can get to 'Toinette without 
 me, bon voyage. I shall smoke my cigar in peace." 
 The rogue laughed at my despairing gesture, 
 filled my glass again, and said: 
 " You nervous Americans ! One must humour 
 you even at the sacrifice of art. It is deplorable. 
 Well, from masterpieces of art I turned to the crea- 
 tion* of masterpieces in various fields of endeavour. 
 I have been everything and done everything, from 
 writing verse to dissecting a cadaver; and, finally, 
 I became an editor, with a view to solidifying the 
 Third Republic or undermining it, as the case 
 might be. This work was very agreeable to me, 
 as it brought me into communication with all sorts 
 and classes of people, and gave me an acquaintance 
 with my fellow mortals that quite disturbed my 
 theology. I grew to be a veritable Mephisto with 
 benevolent tendencies. Not by any means a con- 
 tradiction, my dear boy. Every intelligent man of 
 the world is a curious composite of devil and saint. 
 Experience will show you yourself in that light. 
 Well, through my influence as an editor and in pur- 
 suit of a caprice, I secured an appointment to the 
 secret service police, with the exceptional privileges 
 and authorities of a sub-prefect. I began to 
 cherish the notion that I should beat Gaboriau at 
 his own game and actually went so far toward it as 
 to gather material for a novel that you may write,
 
 28 Marcel Levignet 
 
 if you will. As for me, I have discovered that fact 
 is so much more strange and unreal than fiction as 
 to make fools of the novelists. Allans done. 
 
 " This was my situation the night, or rather the 
 morning of November I2th, 1887. I had been 
 busied at the office of the paper later than usual, 
 and did not close my desk until about one o'clock. 
 It was a beautiful clear night, with the stars thick 
 as spray, but the air was rather chilly. I had no 
 great distance to go, and instead of calling a cab 
 decided to walk, to throw off the oppressiveness of 
 the beastly office and get myself into a wholesome 
 frame of mind and body for a sleep. Buttoning 
 my overcoat across my breast, lighting a cigar, and 
 thrusting my hands well down into my side pockets, 
 I started off at a brisk pace. My thoughts were 
 occupied with some features of a recent case which 
 was puzzling the police, when I was startled from 
 my reflections by a woman, thinly clad, with a shawl 
 drawn about her head and shoulders, who came 
 from a doorway in the rue de 1'Universite and 
 grasped me by the arm, imploring me to serve her. 
 
 " ' What do you want? ' I asked. 
 
 " ' Oh, sir, in the name of Heaven, go for a 
 doctor, and bid him come at once 1 I will wait for 
 you at the open door.' 
 
 " 4 What shall I say is the matter? ' 
 
 1 An accident. I can't give you the particulars, 
 but delay may be fatal.'
 
 Marcel Levignet 29 
 
 "A few doors below, on a cross street, lived 
 one of the most eminent physicians of Paris, and, 
 with more interest tha/ I could account for to my- *>V / 
 self, I told the woman to get within doors, and 
 hastened to fetch the doctor. I ran most of the 
 distance along the empty, desolate, dimly lighted 
 streets, until I reached the residence of Dr. Ribault. 
 I pulled the bell with unnecessary violence, and 
 gave it a second and third pull before it was possi- 
 ble anyone should respond to the first call. Very 
 promptly, an upper window was raised, and a voice 
 demanded : 
 
 "'Who is there?' 
 
 "'Is that Dr. Ribault?' 
 
 " ' Yes. What do you want of him ? ' 
 
 " ' A case of life and death just around the cor- 
 ner. No time to be lost.' 
 
 " * I will be with you directly,' said he grum- 
 blingly, and the window was roughly closed. 
 
 " It seemed a devil of a time before the doctor 
 appeared, but I relieved my impatience with all 
 sorts of fanciful conjectures, my experience of police 
 cases leading me to believe there was something 
 mysterious, or at least sensational in the affair. 
 When, therefore, Dr. Ribault opened his door and 
 joined me somewhat ungraciously, I had made up 
 my mind to go with him to the house, instead of 
 giving him the number and continuing on my way 
 home.
 
 30 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " I made myself known to the doctor, and, ex- 
 pressing my opinion that the case was something 
 out of the common run, asked permission to accom- 
 pany him. He readily enough consented, and 
 within ten minutes we were at the door where the 
 woman waited. 
 
 " She half blocked the entrance as we came up, 
 and said, pantingly, pointing at me: 
 
 " * But this gentleman ' 
 
 " ' Is all right,' interrupted the doctor. ' Where 
 is the patient? ' 
 
 " The woman, who, needlessly explained that her 
 name was Madame Arnot, and that she let rooms 
 to lodgers, was in a state of morbid excitement, 
 talked volubly but incoherently, and, in an aimless 
 fashion, as if not conscious of what she was do- 
 ing, ushered us into a parlour or reception room, 
 and begged us to sit down, evidently reluctant to 
 take us at once to the victim of the accident. 
 
 " All this was plainly annoying to Dr. Ribault, 
 who brusquely demanded to know what all she was 
 saying had to do with a case that required his at- 
 tention so urgently. Mme. Arnot told us as best 
 she could, with many sobs and superfluous words, 
 what had caused her fright. She was a light 
 sleeper, she said, and had been awakened by a 
 noise as of a heavy body falling on the floor of the 
 room just above her own. While she was wonder- 
 ing, half sleepily, what had disturbed her, an upper
 
 Marcel Levignet 31 
 
 door slammed and she heard light footsteps hurry- 
 ing down the stairs. She sprang from her bed 
 and rushed into the hall just in time to see the front 
 door open and the figure of a woman pass out into 
 the darkness. She ran forward, looked out the 
 door, which had been left open, and dimly descried 
 a swiftly moving figure which passed under the 
 feeble gaslight and disappeared. Filled with a 
 numbing fear, she returned into the house, strug- 
 gled upstairs, entered the room in which she had 
 heard the noise, ' And there,' she exclaimed hysteri- 
 cally, ' I saw such a sight as made my blood freeze 
 in my veins a man lying dead, upon the floor. 
 Oh, dear doctor, I couldn't go near it, and ran 
 down the stairs and crouched in the open door 
 scared almost to death, till this gentleman came 
 by.' 
 
 * Show me the way ! ' ordered the doctor, 
 rising. 
 
 Madame Arnot rose tremblingly. 
 
 " 'Who is this man?' asked the doctor, as we 
 started up the stairs. 
 
 ' M. Jules Martin. He came here six months 
 ago to look for rooms. He ended by renting the 
 house, and I turned off my other lodgers. A 
 week later he brought a lady here, and introduced 
 her as his wife. She was very pretty and very 
 young, much too young for him, I thought but 
 that is all I know of them.'
 
 32 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " The conversation had been conducted in 
 strained whispers, and we were now halfway up 
 the stairs. When we reached the landing Mme. 
 Arnot turned to the left, and, stopping before the 
 second door, which she did not offer to open, said 
 in a low whisper: 
 
 " * This is the room.' 
 
 " We went in quietly, and turned on the gas to 
 full blaze. Lying face downward on the floor, in 
 his night robe, was the body of a man. The doctor 
 touched him and, in the act of turning him over, 
 said composedly: 
 
 " * Quite dead.' 
 
 " But when the light fell strong on the pale, 
 dark-bearded face of the dead man, the doctor 
 sprang back, startled, even terrified, and exclaimed 
 excitedly : 
 
 " ' My God! It is Judge Chartier! My old 
 friend Chartier!'"
 
 Ill 
 
 I KNEW Judge Chartier by reputation as one 
 of the wealthiest and most distinguished mem- 
 bers of the bar, and often had seen him in 
 public. I knew also that his daughter was an ac- 
 complished young lady, a social favourite, remark- 
 able for her benevolence, and that his son occupied 
 a responsible position under the government. 
 
 " While these thoughts were flashing through 
 my mind, Dr. Ribault, deeply affected, had knelt 
 beside the body of his friend, clutching a wrist in 
 the vain hope to feel some slight fluttering of the 
 pulse, bending his ear against the dead man's 
 breast, intently listening for the muffled sound of a 
 yet throbbing heart. As he lifted his head and 
 drew back his hand from the breast of his dead 
 friend, I heard him mutter in an awed whisper the 
 one word ' Murdered ! * 
 
 " Then, rising quickly, he turned to me with 
 pale face and with gleaming eyes, said brusquely 
 and with evident anxiety to prevent questions : 
 
 " * It is a case of heart disease. Help me lift 
 him onto the bed.' 
 
 " We stooped to raise the body, which we bore 
 to the bed with some difficulty, for Judge Chartier 
 had been a man of exceptional stature. As we 
 
 33
 
 34 Marcel Levignet 
 
 straightened out the yet lax limbs, I pointed to a 
 single spot of blood on the soft bosom of the night 
 robe, and said quietly: 
 
 " ' Excuse me, doctor, is this an indication of 
 heart disease? ' 
 
 " He glanced where I pointed, and exclaimed 
 eagerly, as if to sweep away what doubt I had : 
 
 " * That did not come from him. He has not 
 bled.' 
 
 " He drew a sheet up over the body, and then 
 addressed me imploringly: 
 
 " * We must get him secretly and quickly to his 
 home. There must be no publicity no scandal. 
 A carriage must be brought, and we will dress him 
 and take him to the house. We can support him 
 between us, so the cabman will suspect nothing, ex- 
 cept that he is ill. Go, I entreat you, to get a 
 carriage.' 
 
 " He was pushing me toward the door as he 
 spoke thus, his words coming fast, with scarcely a 
 pause between them. 
 
 " Resisting him respectfully, but firmly I said : 
 
 " * I will do as you say, doctor, but first I must be 
 satisfied. I am an editor, and owe some duty to 
 my paper. But I am also a sub-prefect, and owe 
 something to my profession. I cannot accept your 
 explanation that this is a case of heart disease. It 
 is either murder or suicide. I must see what that 
 spot of blood means.'
 
 Marcel Levignet 35 
 
 " Dr. Ribault remonstrated with me, angrily, 
 pleadingly, but when he found me resolved to pene- 
 trate the mystery, he went abruptly to the bed, 
 threw back the sheet, held open the shirt, and said : 
 
 "' Look, then!' 
 
 " I was at his side instantly, and, looking on the 
 exposed breast of the dead man, saw the glitter of 
 a triangular group of golden spear heads to a tiny 
 instrument fixed in the breast directly over the seat 
 of the heart. I comprehended at once. It was 
 the head of one of those formidable pins which 
 women make use of to keep their hats in place. 
 Less than half an inch of the pin was visible be- 
 neath the fantastic head, the main length being 
 buried in the heart of the dead man. It had been 
 driven home with such force and precision that not 
 a drop of blood had escaped outwardly. I was 
 more startled by this than I would have been by the 
 sight of a gaping knife-wound. 
 
 " * Murdered ! ' I exclaimed. * But how do you 
 account for the drop of blood here? ' 
 
 " * That came from the hand of the person who 
 committed the murder. His hand was evidently 
 cut by these prongs, so great was the resistance 
 even to the point of the needle-like pin. 1 
 
 " I was rather jealous of his detective acuteness, 
 and remarked that it must have been a woman of 
 exceptional strength and sang-froid to have man- 
 aged it so adroitly.
 
 36 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " * It was not done by a woman,' he said insist- 
 ently. ' It is a man's scarf-pin.' 
 
 " ' Nonsense, doctor! It is a woman's hat pin. 
 This is the work of a woman. Besides, it was a 
 woman who fled from the house.' 
 
 " ' True. I had forgotten,' he assented, reluc- 
 tantly; then, with sudden earnestness, he pleaded in 
 behalf of his dead friend's family that I would 
 agree with him to keep the affair secret for a time. 
 
 " After some resistance, sentiment and benevo- 
 lence contending against my professional instincts 
 and theories of justice, I made a conditional promise 
 to keep this night's affair a profound secret for the 
 present, to let it be thought that Judge Chartier 
 had died of heart disease at his own home, after 
 having been attacked at the residence of his inti- 
 mate friend, Doctor Ribault. Fortunately for the 
 success of this arrangement, Dr. Ribault was a 
 widower, living alone with an elderly housekeeper 
 and a man-servant who slept over the stables. 
 
 u This plan decided upon, Dr. Ribault carefully 
 drew the long pin from the breast of the dead man, 
 the consequent flow of blood being very slight, skill- 
 fully dressed the wound, which was merely a punc- 
 ture not more than the eighteenth part of an inch 
 in diameter, and so ingeniously closed it in with a 
 bit of wax that other eyes than ours could not detect 
 the place. 
 
 " Within a few minutes we had clothed the body
 
 Marcel Levignet 37 
 
 in the street suit of the Judge, and I went to get a 
 carriage. At the foot of the stairs I found Mme. 
 Arnot, crouching expectantly. 
 
 " ' Well? ' she asked eagerly, yet in a frightened 
 tone of voice. 
 
 " * It is all right,' I answered. * M. Martin had 
 an attack of heart disease, but he is not yet dead, 
 and may be saved. It would be well for you, how- 
 ever, to say nothing about this affair, or you may 
 find yourself in an unpleasant predicament with the 
 police.' 
 
 i "'* Thank God! ' exclaimed the woman, wholly 
 restored to confidence ; * I thought there had been 
 a murder. You may be sure I know how to keep 
 my own counsel.' 
 
 " Just as I was going out the door, the doctor 
 called me from the head of the stairs. I returned 
 to him. 
 
 " * You had better get my private carriage,' he 
 whispered. ' My man, Jacques, is a trusty fellow. 
 Rouse him and order him to harness the horses and 
 come at once.' 
 
 " This simplified matters, and I followed in- 
 structions. 
 
 " In less than an hour the body of Judge Char- 
 tier lay on a sofa in the library of his Avenue 
 d'Antin residence, with the stricken family gath- 
 ered in loving sorrow about it. 
 
 " The afternoon papers of the next day and the
 
 38 Marcel Levignet 
 
 morning papers of the day following contained 
 long and eulogistic obituary notices lamenting the 
 sudden, but peaceful death of the highly esteemed, 
 exemplary Judge Chartier, who was duly com- 
 mitted to the care of the family vault with all the 
 sanctity befitting the end of a noble career." 
 
 Levignet smiled, made a deprecatory movement 
 of his shoulder and, refilling my glass, exclaimed: 
 " F'la! " as if he had come to the end of his story. 
 
 " But what has that to do with Toinette? " I de- 
 manded with some irritation. 
 
 " 'Toinette ! I uncovered to you one of the 
 most piquant of the mysteries of Paris, and your 
 vagrant mind is all the time in chase of a pretty 
 woman's phantom! Humph! I thought you 
 were an amateur of social lunacies. Shall I help 
 you to an artichoke? You will find the sauce ex- 
 quisite. If you take the trouble to learn for what 
 dish each restaurant is excellent, you may dine to 
 perfection in Paris. But it is a mistake to suppose 
 that all the virtues of the cuisine have been appro- 
 priated to the establishments most remarkable for 
 their charges. There is, presumably, an affinity 
 between price and quality, but " 
 
 " Confound it, Levignet! " 
 
 " Oh, my dear Summerville, you are tempestive ! 
 Ah, well ; placidity is temperamental, or impossible, 
 Dr. Ribault assures me. I yield to your infirmity. 
 The doctor and I, as you may suppose, became
 
 Marcel Levignet 39 
 
 very good comrades. We often dined or break- 
 fasted together at appointed places, and naturally 
 the adventure which had made us acquainted was 
 never quite ignored in our conversation. The two 
 main 'questions who was the woman? and, what 
 was the motive of her apparently vindictive crime ? 
 continued to baffle our guardedly conducted in- 
 vestigations. We had many theories, and prob- 
 ably we hit upon exact facts with some of them, 
 but we could arrive at nothing tangible. From 
 Mme. Arnot we got a vague and rather too gen- 
 eral description of ' Mme. Martin,' and concluded 
 that she was a well-bred, refined young lady 
 Mme. Arnot was sure she was not more than nine- 
 teen years old who might have come from any of 
 a hundred families within the barriers of this city 
 of beautiful women. Our one clue, the jewelled 
 and tricuspid hat-pin, was rather more vexatious 
 than helpful, as I developed a mania for taking it 
 to jewellers to have its counterpart made, without 
 succeeding in finding anyone who could point to its 
 maker. 
 
 " Six months, twelve months, eighteen months, 
 and no developments. I had come to regard 
 myself as particeps criminis by this time, and rather 
 enjoyed the situation though the doctor was very 
 far from seeing it in a humorous light. He con- 
 tinually excused himself by declaring that he had 
 discharged a sacred duty to friendship in conceal-
 
 40 Marcel Levignet 
 
 ing the fact that his boyhood and manhood ' pal,' 
 as you say, had finished in a shameful death; but he 
 was troubled by compunctions of conscience, and 
 had I belonged to the vulgarly acquisitive class of 
 materialists, I might have preyed upon his fears to 
 half the extent of his fortune. Finally, we dis- 
 missed the subject from our conversations, deciding 
 to leave the discovery of the assassin to chance. 
 And here let me say that ' Chance ' is far the best 
 detective the government has in its service. 
 Vidocqs are marvellous fellows in fiction, where the 
 game is all in the hands of the novelist; but in prac- 
 tical criminality, in ninety-nine detective cases out 
 of a hundred, circumstances would make fools of 
 the cleverest detectives, did not ' Chance ' or a 
 * peacher ' intervene. Those of us who have been 
 much behind the scenes know how small a part 
 mere astuteness or deductive intelligence plays in 
 clearing up a ' mystery ' without the aid of 
 1 Chance ' or the * Informer.' A clever man, of 
 course, knows how to eliminate the adventitious 
 elements when he has elaborated his problem, and 
 may give the appearance of sagacity to what was 
 nothing more than obedience to specific direction. 
 However, if the tricks of trade in all its ramifica- 
 tions were known, some very distinguished figures 
 in history would topple from their pedestals. 
 
 " At the end of two years I had come to the 
 conclusion that the affair of the rue de 1'Universite
 
 Marcel Levignet 41 
 
 had taken its place among the impenetrable mys- 
 teries that are far more numerous in criminal annals 
 than the confiding public remotely suspects. 
 
 " Having been absurd enough to accept a seat 
 in the Chamber of Deputies, I became more or less 
 occupied with the foolish or knavish projects of 
 political factions, and gradually lost touch with the 
 fascinating army of criminals with which profes- 
 sional duties had made me familiar. I confess that 
 I was rather annoyed by the futile obligations of 
 my role as deputy, which were impairing my zest 
 for what is really the most captivating of intel- 
 lectual pursuits the investigation of social dere- 
 lictism, if I may employ the word. It was not 
 without a sense of pleasure then that I saw shuffle 
 into my editorial room one day perhaps the most 
 thoroughly disreputable of the incorrigible thieves 
 whose pictures enrich the galleries of our prefec- 
 ture. He paused expectantly inside the door, a 
 smile, half impudent, half deferential, distorting 
 his thin, vulpine face. 
 
 " ' Bon jou', M'sieu' Levignet.' 
 
 " 'Ah! How do you do, Benoist? ' I inquired 
 cheerily, swinging my chair around to face him. 
 'What brings you here? Have you a friend 
 whom you wish to honour with an introduction to 
 justice ? * 
 
 " No, m'sieu*, he answered with an apprecia- 
 tive grin, at the same time unfolding a slip of paper
 
 42 Marcel Levignet 
 
 clumsily torn from a newspaper. ' I come in the 
 way of business. It is about this.' 
 
 " He handed me the slip, which proved to be an 
 advertisement from my own paper offering a re- 
 ward for the return of a valuable ring taken from 
 a residence in a fashionable part of the city, there 
 being the usual guaranty of no questions asked. 
 
 " * Oh! One of your enterprises, eh, Benoist? ' 
 
 " * No, truly, m'sieu'. The credit belongs to a 
 friend of mine, but he is modest. The advertise- 
 ment says to leave the ring at the Clarion office, 
 and name reward. I know you for the right sort, 
 m'sieu'. I can trust you. Here is the " shiner," 
 saying which, he produced the ring, a very hand- 
 some one, which answered to the description. 
 
 " * And how much value do you set on your hon- 
 esty, Benoist ? ' 
 
 " ' Two hundred francs, m'sieu'.' 
 
 " A whim, or a revival of instinct, induced me to 
 undertake the enterprise. I inquired in the busi- 
 ness office, learned that a reward up to four hundred 
 francs had been arranged for, gave Benoist the two 
 hundred claimed, took the address of the advertiser 
 and determined to deliver the ring myself. For 
 the life of me I could have given no reason for an 
 undertaking that promised nothing more interest- 
 ing than the return of a bauble to a woman who 
 might prove to be as ugly as the furies and as fat 
 as the pantomime dowager. Caprice is the hand-
 
 Marcel Levignet 43 
 
 maiden of Destiny, my dear Summerville. Blindly 
 followed, she is wiser than a council of judges. I 
 have made her my mistress for forty years and my 
 friends think me the luckiest man in Paris. 
 
 " After dinner that evening, the ring snugly 
 stowed in my silk porte-monnaie, I drove to the 
 residence indicated, and was duly ushered into a 
 spacious library, the footman being informed that 
 I did not come as one of the guests who already 
 thronged the salon. Presently, the master of the 
 house, the General de Francault, whom I knew very 
 well by sight, came into the room. Though his 
 carriage was of that painfully erect character en- 
 forced by military tradition, his countenance was 
 benignant and his manner affable. He greeted me 
 graciously, and waited politely for me to state the 
 object of my call. I told him promptly that I came 
 to restore the ring stolen from his house. He ele- 
 vated his eyebrows, curiously surveyed me as if I 
 might have been the thief in proper person, smiled 
 in a reassured way and glanced dubiously at the 
 ring. 
 
 " * I am not sure that I recognise it,' he said. 
 * The ring was stolen with some other trinkets that 
 belonged to my niece. I must call her to identify 
 the property.' 
 
 " He rang a bell and bade the servant who en- 
 tered to * request M'lle Antoinette to come here.' 
 
 " Before I had ended explaining how the ring
 
 44 Marcel Levignet 
 
 came into my possession, a beautiful young lady, 
 not above twenty, I judged, entered the room smil- 
 ingly, with a ' Yes, uncle ? ' 
 
 " I shall not offer to describe her, as I find I am 
 suspected of a tendency to over-elaborate the 
 charms of women who please me ; and I admit that 
 my equanimity is somewhat easily disturbed by 
 them. I may be permitted to say, however, that in 
 a face of extraordinary sweetness there was a dash 
 of determined worldliness that enchanted me. To 
 my palate the most deliciously delicate meat in the 
 world is that of a fresh young langouste, as they 
 serve it at the Cafe d'Ammononville, but I never 
 eat it without a sprinkling of red pepper. Taste, 
 Summerville, is the epitome of the cardinal vir- 
 tues, and differences in taste are signs of moral no 
 less than of aesthetic separation ; so I will not argue 
 that it requires a touch of the devil to clarify a saint, 
 for we might not agree. You have, as yet, a 
 somewhat contracted view of the significance of 
 life. But you would have raved over the young 
 lady. 
 
 " ' 'Toinette,' said the General, ' this gentleman, 
 M. Levignet, has brought a ring which he thinks 
 is the one stolen from you.' 
 
 ' Oh, let me see ! ' she exclaimed, with an 
 eagerness that was unmistakable, though, strangely 
 enough, it gave no hint of pleasure, and the smile 
 quite disappeared from her lips, but was forced
 
 Marcel Levignet 45 
 
 back again with a shadow of bitterness in it. And 
 there was something in her eyes, too, that belied 
 the gaiety of her speech. 
 
 " * It is mine ! ' she declared at the first glance, 
 even before I had given it into her hands. '* I had 
 quite despaired of seeing it again. However did 
 you come by it, M. Levignet ? ' 
 
 " I repeated to her what I had already said to 
 the General, though you cannot blame me if I 
 added a few phrases rather more appropriate in a 
 narrative to a vivaciously agreeable young lady 
 than in a matter-of-fact statement to a grizzled old 
 dog of war. 
 
 " The General was for immediate reimburse- 
 ment of the two hundred francs, evidently mistak- 
 ing my offer to call at a more opportune time for a 
 deliberate attempt to extend the acquaintance. He 
 excused himself to fetch the money. In his absence 
 Mademoiselle Antoinette talked so frankly and wit- 
 tily, and yet with such an undercurrent of conflict- 
 ing emotion that my speculative fancies were 
 roused to the keenest pitch of enjoyment. She was 
 a new type. As a connoisseur in character, I per- 
 ceived in her. elements of such positive and yet con- 
 flicting qualities, that I found myself speculating 
 upon the different results circumstances could pro- 
 duce out of such material. She was capable of 
 being the Ruth of the Hebrews, or the Medea of 
 Colchis; Judith or Helen; Jezebel or Niobe; martyr
 
 46 Marcel Levignet 
 
 or avenger. But as an output of our sterilising, 
 unifying system of social civilisation, she was 
 merely an exceptionally charming young lady, with 
 remarkable underlying possibilities. I wondered 
 what she might have been had her environment 
 been sordid, poverty-cursed and criminal. You 
 will not abuse my meaning when I say that I felt 
 a delight in her presence such as I had never ex- 
 perienced in the company of any other woman. If 
 you can imagine a woman of modesty so simple 
 that it enforces your reserve, and yet of a piquancy 
 that challenges your levity, you may understand 
 something of the influence 'Toinette exercised over 
 me in our first brief interview. 
 
 " It happened that my attention was attracted 
 by a portrait in which I detected resemblance to 
 Mademoiselle. As the light was too imperfect to 
 permit of a clear view of the features, 'Toinette 
 graciously reached to turn on the gas, and, in doing 
 so, caught the lace of her sleeve in the gold work of 
 an ornamental bracket. I stepped forward, with 
 some playful remark, to disengage her arm ; and, as 
 I took hold of the lace, she turned her hand coquet- 
 tishly, as if supplicating release, the glare of the 
 light falling full on her palm. I was in the Cham- 
 ber when an anarchist's bomb exploded in our 
 midst, but I was not nearly so much startled by 
 that incident as I was by the sight in her hand of 
 a uniform three-pointed mark, showing through
 
 Marcel Levignet 47 
 
 the cuticle of the palm like a faint red tattoo. 
 Psychic forces are as subtle and incomprehensible 
 as electricity. They rush upon your intelligence 
 with sudden clarification, and you know in an in- 
 stant facts to which you could never attain by rea- 
 soning processes. 
 
 " I grasped her hand, rudely, perhaps, profes- 
 sional zeal getting the better of me, and, holding 
 the palm sharply to the light, exclaimed exultingly, 
 4 At last!' 
 
 " * What do you mean ! ' she demanded in- 
 dignantly, at the same time snatching her hand 
 from my grasp with a violence that tore the lace 
 of her sleeve and dislodged a vase, that fell from 
 the bracket and crashed against the tessellated 
 flooring. 
 
 " I bowed, smiling cynically. 
 
 " 'Ah, mademoiselle, conceive my satisfaction 
 in seeing a cryptograph for which I have searched 
 despairingly for the better part of two years ! " 
 
 "'What do you mean?' she repeated angrily, 
 her eyes flashing into mine a defiance the bravado 
 of which I easily discerned and admired. A grey 
 tinge came into her face that made its beauty hag- 
 gard, but her head was proudly borne, and I 
 flattered myself that a battle royal was impending. 
 There is an indefinable pleasure and sense of 
 triumph in the mental play that is to entrap a 
 shrewd, clever, well-fortified suspect into an in-
 
 48 Marcel Levignet 
 
 | evitable confession of guilt. No other form of 
 
 | excitement is equal to it. I regarded her for some 
 
 moments with a calmly mocking and assured 
 
 smile that a little disconcerted her resolution and 
 
 betrayed her into an indiscreet question. 
 
 " * For whom do you take me ? ' 
 
 " With as even a tone as if she had asked me 
 the time of day, I answered, complacently twisting 
 my moustache and looking her fixedly but not at all 
 threateningly in the eyes : 
 
 " ' For the assassin of Judge Chartier, mademoi- 
 selle.' 
 
 " I was never so disappointed with the effect of 
 a shot in my life. Her manner changed instantly. 
 Though she was undoubtedly prepared for my ac- 
 cusation, the directness of it, the quiet, convinced 
 simplicity of my speech, did not square with the 
 order of attack for which she had arranged a de- 
 fence. She looked at me dumbly for a moment, 
 the defiant look fading from her eyes, then, sud- 
 denly covering her face with her hands, she sank 
 down at my feet, moaning : 
 
 " * So I am. Do with me what you will.' 
 
 " I was taken aback. She was not playing the 
 role I had assigned her, and I was irritated by the 
 transition. Candidly, I rather admire a resolute, 
 unflinching criminal bent on baffling his accusers. It 
 arouses your ingenuity, it calls into exercise all your 
 resources of craft and subtlety, and if you come off
 
 Marcel Levignet 49 
 
 the victor, it is a smart addition to the feathers in j 
 your cap. But the sudden abandonment of the de- 
 fensive position and an unconditional surrender at 
 the first fire offends one's self-love. It places an 
 expert strategist at a provoking disadvantage; es- 
 pecially when that strategist is, like me, cursed with 
 a constitutional inability to coordinate beauty with 
 criminal responsibility. One of the most perni- 
 cious tenets to which politics ever committed out- 
 raged society is the ineptitude that kings can do no 
 wrong. But I am helplessly committed to the 
 equally fantastic theory that beauty is its own ab- 
 solution from the gravamen of criminal mischance. 
 I use the word ' mischance ' advisedly, for, accord- 
 ing to my reasoning, beauty errs only through ac- 
 cident, betrayal or temporary insanity produced by 
 shock, and is, therefore, never really culpable. 
 Generally speaking, beauty is the expression of that 
 sane moral balance to which society owes its per- , 
 petuity. You may think this mere sophism, or 
 worse; to my mind it is the fundamental principle 
 of human progress, and we shall be masquerading 
 savages until the era of its universal adoption. 
 
 " It need not surprise you, then, that, dismissing 
 my professional chagrin, I stooped in compassionate 
 tenderness and lifted the unhappy creature to her 
 feet. 
 
 " * Mademoiselle,' I said consolingly, * I was per- 
 fectly willing, I may say eager, to play my wits
 
 50 Marcel Levignet 
 
 against your own had you persisted in an effort to 
 deceive me. But the manner in which you have 
 admitted your guilt so entirely persuades me of 
 your innocence that I am ready to undertake your 
 defence against yourself. 1 
 
 " These words bewildered her, she being so 
 wholly ignorant of my rational methods. 
 
 " ' In God's name, do not mock me. If you in- 
 tend to hand me over to justice, I will go with you. 
 Come; let us go now, before my uncle returns. 
 Let there be no scene.' 
 
 " 'There shall be no scene, mademoiselle. I 
 shall not take you with me. Chance, it is true, 
 has put you in my power; but your secret is safe 
 between us, unless you fail to convince me that my 
 theory of the affair of the rue de 1'Universite is 
 the correct one. We are liable to interruption at 
 any moment by the return of your uncle, so that I 
 have no opportunity now to question you. To- 
 morrow afternoon, at two o'clock, I shall expect 
 you in my cabinet at the Clarion office. Will you 
 come ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh, yes, monsieur; I will come.' 
 
 " ' I know the particulars of the tragedy. It was 
 I who connived with Dr. Ribault to give the death 
 of Judge Chartier the character of a natural one. 
 My analysis of the circumstances led me to a feel- 
 ing of sympathy with the unknown woman
 
 Marcel Levignet 5 1 
 
 " * Oh, monsieur I ' 
 
 u * I only wish to assure you that my judgment 
 does not utterly condemn you, but recognises the 
 possibility of extenuating facts. You will do well 
 to be straightforward with me. You probably 
 have no wish to evade me but if the idea should 
 come to you, dismiss it. The niece of General de 
 Francault would find evasion difficult.' 
 
 ' I understand, monsieur. I will come to you 
 at two o'clock to-morrow, or ' 
 
 " She was interrupted by the voice of the Gen- 
 eral speaking outside the door, and, without com- 
 pleting the sentence or taking leave of me, she ran 
 across the room and disappeared through the cur- 
 tains of a doorway opposite to the one through 
 which the General entered. 
 
 " After some trivial talk with the General, in the 
 course of which he paid me the two hundred francs 
 and thanked me for my trouble, coupling the re- 
 mark with some reference of a flattering sort to one 
 of my speeches in the Chamber, I said my adieu 
 and retired."
 
 IV 
 
 I WENT directly to the house of Dr. Ribault, 
 and luckily found the old fellow in. 
 " * What would you say,' I asked abruptly, 
 ' if I were to tell you that I am able to lay hands on 
 the owner of the hat-pin ? ' 
 
 " He sank back into a chair, his face as devoid of 
 colour as his shirt-front. 
 
 " * Good Heaven ! Levignet, why do you alarm 
 me in that fashion? '. 
 
 " ' I have found her.' 
 
 " * Found whom?' 
 
 " ' I have told you the owner of the hat-pin.' 
 
 " ' You are jesting, Levignet.' 
 
 " '* Then why are you trembling ? ' 
 
 " ' You you haven't seen her? ' 
 
 " ' Not half an hour ago.' 
 
 " ' And she is under arrest? ' 
 
 11 'Not yet.' 
 
 " He rose from his chair and came to clutch me 
 by the arm as he said, half pleadingly, half insist- 
 ently : 
 
 " * There must be no arrest. There must be no 
 raking up of the ashes of my dead friend to scatter 
 them to the winds of infamy.' 
 
 52
 
 Marcel Levignet 53 
 
 " * And the law ? justice ? ' 
 
 " * Law ! Justice ! Terms expedients. They 
 are for the purpose of guarding the honour of so- 
 ciety, not for its degradation. We put them both 
 aside when more is to be lost than gained by ap- 
 pealing to them. If you bring an unknown assassin 
 before a tribunal where he can be condemned only 
 by disgracing a noble family and by defaming the 
 respected dead, what is the benefit to society? Law 
 becomes a mockery and justice an outrage, within 
 such circumstances ! ' 
 
 " * And yet, by concealing the facts and shield- 
 ing the criminal, you and I, my dear Doctor Ri- 
 bault, become accessories to the crime, and are 
 equally guilty with its perpetrator! I am not a 
 saint, but ' 
 
 " * Don't talk rubbish, Levignet. Don't try to 
 frighten me with childish bugaboos 1 That is one 
 of the traps the lawyers set to catch fools. I tell 
 you I will not have disgrace brought on that 
 family ! ' 
 
 " ' But surely you would not have the assassin of 
 your friend ' 
 
 " * Judge Chartier is beyond the influence of the 
 living, good or evil; but his wife, whom I esteem, 
 Mademoiselle Chartier, whom I love, and Gaston 
 Chartier, a noble young man just taking his place 
 in the world, shall not be crushed by a blow that 
 would bring no good to anyone. A thousand times
 
 54 Marcel Levignet 
 
 greater harm will be done by sending to the 
 guillotine a woman who may have been terribly 
 wronged, than would result from the immunity of 
 the assassin.' 
 
 " * Your views are nearly in accord with my own, 
 my dear doctor, for I have seen and formed a fav- 
 ourable opinion of the young woman. But we must 
 proceed rationally. Many things are to be con- 
 sidered. Your sentimental interest in the family 
 of your old friend is honourable to you; just as I 
 think my sympathy with the distress of a fascinat- 
 ing girl is creditable to me. Each of us has a 
 self-satisfying reason for letting the girl go free, 
 but the reasoning would not seem so cogent from a 
 different view-point; that is to say, you would not 
 regard my susceptibility to beauty as a justification 
 of my neglect of official duty; and as an officer of 
 the law, I can hardly admit that your private devo- 
 tion to the Chartiers should blind you to the im- 
 portance of bringing a criminal to justice.' 
 
 " * What ! do you tell me seriously that you mean 
 to arrest the girl ? ' 
 
 " ' I certainly mean to probe the matter; but as 
 for arrest well, that will depend upon the extent 
 to which you can persuade me that her con- 
 duct ' 
 
 " * Mark me! if you make this affair public, I 
 will kill you ! ' 
 
 " The interruption was like a bolt from a cata-
 
 Marcel Levignet 55 
 
 pult. My mood had been rather bantering than 
 earnest, and here of a sudden was the doctor glar- 
 ing at me, his face distorted, fists clenched, arms 
 rigidly at his side, lips quivering, nostrils dilating 
 all the symptoms, in short, of a fine frenzy ! If I 
 had loved him less, I should have laughed, but he 
 is an admirable fellow, and I was above insulting 
 him. After my momentary astonishment, I said, 
 with as much complacency as my inclination to 
 laugh permitted: 
 
 " * My dear doctor, I have often been cautioned 
 in that way, but I am so entirely a child of caprice 
 that I cannot profit by warnings. I am never so 
 irresistibly led by it as when a personal danger lies 
 in the way. Therefore, it would be folly for me 
 to promise to keep silence. Whether I do or not 
 will depend entirely upon my state of mind at 2 130 
 o'clock to-morrow afternoon, when I have inter- 
 viewed the young lady. I have disturbed you. 
 Pardon me. Good night.' 
 
 " I had taken up my hat and stick as I spoke, 
 and, with a careless nod of the head toward him, 
 turned to go. But he hurried to me, grasped my 
 arm, and, his anger turned to supplication, said : 
 
 " * Levignet ! my dear Levignet, wait I wait ! I 
 was wrong. I was not myself. Think of it! 
 We have been the closest possible friends these two 
 years. You like me; you have said it. Well, 
 pity me. Let this woman go ! '
 
 56 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " ' What ! you know her, then? ' 
 
 " ' Oh, no no no. I know nothing of her 
 I care nothing for her I have not even asked you 
 for her name. If you demand a reason, I'll give 
 you one you cannot resist, if there is a heart in your 
 breast* 
 
 " My dear Ribault, you are trembling. You are 
 in tears. Be composed. Sit down. Now, then; 
 what is it? You'll find that I know how to be a 
 friend.' 
 
 " ' Then prove your friendship and keep Elise 
 Mademoiselle Chartier free from the shame and 
 humiliation of such a scandal ! ' 
 
 " The truth flashed on me in an instant. I felt 
 provoked with myself, as I took a swift retrospect 
 of our intimate conversations, that I had not 
 divined it earlier in our acquaintance. I looked 
 compassionately at him as he sat bowed down, his 
 hands covering his face. I laid my hand gently 
 on his shoulder. 
 
 " ' Then Mademoiselle Chartier is " 
 
 " * My daughter.' 
 
 " I passed my hand lightly over his head, strok- 
 ing his hair, then, without a word, left him alone. 
 
 " How the stars crowded one another in the 
 blue-black sky that night! As I looked at them, 
 I had a fancy to see their sheen in the water. Any- 
 one less obedient to caprice than I would have 
 laughed the notion into the limbo of mooning non-
 
 Marcel Levignet 57 
 
 sense and marched off energetically to his club. I 
 strolled down to the quays. My dear Summer- 
 ville, dismiss from your mind forever the doubt 
 that ,Chance is a divinity. It is, as I have told you, 
 the greatest arbiter and guide of human conduct. 
 The man who is entirely obedient to it is the man 
 who successfully fulfills his destiny. The only 
 failures in life result from the opposition of self- 
 will to the decrees of Chance. Don't be mistaken 
 in this. It is a truth. 
 
 " The quays were deserted. After wandering 
 idly along the river for some distance, I leaned 
 over a parapet to enjoy the spectacle. There is 
 the starved soul of a neglected poet imprisoned 
 somewhere beneath my diaphragm that sometimes 
 troubles me with its struggles to get free. At such 
 times my physical energy gives way to languor, 
 and I remain indefinitely a prey to inaction. I 
 don't know how long I dozed over the parapet, but 
 I was roused from my reverie by the regular plash 
 of oars in the water, and I saw a boat being rowed 
 to the shore line just below me. It was an effective 
 bit of life in the still darkness of the river, lighted 
 only by the star-spray, and I thought how pleasant 
 it would be to drift down with the current to the 
 quay near to my own house. Caprice again, my 
 friend, but I acted on it. Making myself known to 
 the boatman, I very readily concluded a bargain 
 with him for the use of his boat, for which he was
 
 58 Marcel Levignet 
 
 to call the next morning. I rowed into the middle 
 of the stream, and there shipping my oars, I let the 
 boat drift, boyishly jubilant in the sensation of my 
 silly romance. Everything was enchanting ; the 
 frolic of the ripples with the massive piers of the 
 bridges; the swaying of barges at their moorings; 
 the distant rattle of a cab over the cobbles; the 
 blinking and disappearing lights in the houses; the 
 fixed but every way diverging line of the street 
 lamps ; the slim finger of the spire elegantly soften- 
 ing the grim bulk of Notre Dame; the swoop and 
 swift circling of the bats; the boom of the passing 
 hour from the belfries; even the black, unbroken 
 wall of the morgue, against which the waters beat 
 with a heavy swash, lent a complementary touch to 
 the serene peace of the midnight. 
 
 " My boat had stolen towards the right bank 
 and I was gliding among the shadows from the 
 trees that overhang the quay below the Pont Neuf, 
 when I heard a splash ahead of me, as if someone 
 had plunged from a floating boat-pier. I was 
 alert in an instant, and grasped my oars. I rowed 
 in the direction of the sound, and saw the great 
 circles that the star-shine begemmed widening tow- 
 ard the further shore. I saw an object rise a boat- 
 length ahead of me, one hand reaching up to clutch 
 at the yielding air, and almost instantly disappear 
 again. A sweep of the oars brought me to the 
 spot.
 
 Marcel Levignet 59 
 
 " You have seen me in the water. I know some- 
 thing about it. I might have a breast-load of life- 
 saving medals if I had not had a prejudice against 
 wearing them. A dive, a little groping about, and 
 the thing is done. It is child's play, once you 
 have caught the knack of it. I make no more 
 virtue of such a performance than I do of peeling 
 an orange properly. Some skill is required, how- 
 ever, to get into a boat while you cling to the half- 
 drowned, fully-dressed body of a grown woman; 
 but it is nothing compared with climbing a breast- 
 work in the face of a rifle-volley, and he who has 
 done one may easily manage the other. 
 
 " As I got again into the boat with my burden, 
 a man called from the bank: 
 
 " * What's the matter out there? ' 
 
 " I was about to explain when an opening in 
 the trees let the street light fall rather freely on the 
 upturned face of " 
 
 "Toinette!" I exclaimed. 
 
 " Exactly," assented Levignet, without seeming 
 to recognise my astuteness. " I answered the fel- 
 low on the bank cheerily, assuring him that I had 
 been asleep and tumbled from the boat, but that 
 the plunge had driven the wine from my head. He 
 had the ill-nature to be dissatisfied with the answer, 
 and I saw that the only way to prevent a hubbub 
 to fetch the police down on me was to conciliate 
 the blackguard. I rowed to the boat landing and
 
 60 Marcel Levignet 
 
 invited the fellow into the boat. I let him hear the 
 rattle of some gold pieces, as I said to him : 
 
 " ' My good fellow, to tell you the truth, I have 
 quarrelled with my mistress. In a fit of jealousy, 
 which you can understand, she threw herself over- 
 "board. You shall help me to revive her, and when 
 we have got her into a carriage, which you will call 
 for me, you will be richer by two large pieces of 
 gold.' 
 
 " The rascal was not quite a fool. 
 
 " ' It's all one to me, m'sieu',' he said. * Save 
 her or drown her; I'm your man for the forty 
 francs and a pourboire of another twenty.' 
 
 " ' Agreed,' said I, ' provided you row well and 
 avoid any chance craft.' 
 
 " He took the oars, and I devoted myself to the 
 resuscitation of 'Toinette, who was already showing 
 signs of returning consciousness. She came around 
 quickly, for her bath had not been a very trying 
 one; and on her first words of intelligence I bent 
 over her and whispered: 
 
 " ' Say nothing. Keep quiet. It is Levignet.' 
 
 " The name terrified her. She made a sudden 
 effort to rise, but as I pressed down firmly on her 
 shoulders with a friendly admonition, she moaned, 
 sank down again into the bottom of the boat and 
 remained dumb and inert during the remainder of 
 the journey."
 
 WHEN we pulled up to the quay landing 
 I sent my new accomplice for a closed 
 cab, and in his absence I addressed my- 
 self to the difficult task of persuading Mademoiselle 
 'Toinette that the trustiest friend she had in Paris 
 was by her side. I so far succeeded as to induce 
 her to walk up and down the quay with me in order 
 to start her blood into activity, for she was chilled 
 to the heart. I forced her into rather a violent 
 effort to keep pace with me, for I felt the need of 
 the exercise myself; and by the time my man re- 
 turned to say the cab waited at the foot of the 
 street, I fancy we were both in as comfortable a 
 glow as the condition of our garments and the tem- 
 perature of the air permitted. She accompanied 
 me to the cab without objection. I assisted her in, 
 paid my confederate, ordered the cabman to drive 
 straight ahead lively, and got in beside my wet 
 charge, huddled in the corner. When I was well 
 out of range of my accomplice, I gave the cabman 
 my address, and in a few minutes I had consigned 
 my charge to the care of my housekeeper, with in- 
 structions to keep an eye on her. There was no 
 special need of that injunction, however. Old 
 
 61
 
 62 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Suzel is, as you have no doubt observed in your 
 visits to me, a domestic phenomenon. Feminine 
 intuition has reached its highest state of develop- 
 ment in Suzel as virgin as Jeanne d'Arc and as 
 old as Methusaleh. If I had ushered Mademoi- 
 selle into the house without a word, Suzel would 
 have said to herself at the first glance : ' Ah ! Mon- 
 sieur has dragged from the river a would-be sui- 
 cide. She is richly dressed and has jewelled rings, 
 therefore it was not a release from hardship and 
 famine she sought. She is young and of incom- 
 parable beauty, therefore it is not an ordinary love 
 affair for it is impossible a man in the passion of 
 youth could desert such a creature. Her eyes and 
 forehead are the enemies of vice, therefore there 
 has been no vulgar liaison. But there is a desper- 
 ate fear, the agony of humble pride in her expres- 
 sion. M. Levignet has not notified the police, 
 therefore he knows her, and wishes to protect her. 
 Eh, bien. Suzel knows what to do.' 
 
 " So the wise old soul did not trouble me with a 
 question. I had no thought of seeing Mademoi- 
 selle again before morning, and after getting into a 
 comfortable flannel neglige, I flung down onto a 
 sofa with a brandy bottle by my side, and fell to 
 reading Flaubert's masterpiece, ' Madame Bovary/ 
 for the hundredth time. The book is morbid, I 
 grant you ; but it has a marvellous tonic power for 
 all that. It is one of the great things of our
 
 Marcel Levignet 63 
 
 modern literary output, but it loses its bloom in 
 your English translations. 
 
 " I had been reading in a ruminating sort of 
 way, for an hour or more, when a startling convic- 
 tion, sprung in the most unaccountable way from 
 my subconsciousness, caused me to toss the book 
 aside, jump to my feet and run upstairs to rap at 
 the door of the room in which Suzel was attending 
 to Mademoiselle. 
 
 " Suzel came to the door. 
 
 " ' Can Mademoiselle see me? ' I asked. 
 
 " * Yes. She will not go to bed.' 
 
 " I entered the room. 
 
 " 'Toinette, presenting a droll figure, in a bundle 
 of Suzel's clothes, sat moodily by a blazing fire, 
 none the worse, apparently, for her attempt to find 
 the bottom of the Seine. Her left elbow was on 
 the arm of the chair, her head leaning heavily on 
 her hand, and I looked eagerly to see if the ring I 
 had restored to her was on her finger. It was. 
 * So,' said I to myself, ' we'll see.' 
 
 " I inquired if she was comfortable, and sat 
 down to engage her in conversation. She made no 
 reply to my overtures, not so much as changing her 
 position, until I adopted the tactics of soundly be- 
 rating Suzel for having neglected to show a proper 
 regard to the needs of Mademoiselle. The wily 
 Suzel affected to defend herself with stupid excuses, 
 and seemed on the point of coming to tears under
 
 64 Marcel Levignet 
 
 my reproaches. It had the desired effect. 'Toin- 
 ette raised her hand and said listlessly: 
 
 " * Please don't scold her. She has been very 
 kind. She has wearied me with attention. If you 
 will permit it, I should like to be left alone.' 
 
 " She did not look toward me, and as her hands 
 lay half folded in her lap she began turning the ring 
 on her finger, in a restless, almost anxious way. 
 
 " 'You shall be left alone, mademoiselle.' 
 
 " I arose as if to go, and dismissed Suzel. I 
 went toward the door and said good-night, without 
 taking my eyes from 'Toinette. I saw her ner- 
 vously slip the ring from her finger. 
 
 " 'Pardon me, mademoiselle,' I said, turning 
 back. ' But I meant to ask you a question last 
 evening, which I hope you will not think imperti- 
 nent at this time, as I may forget to ask you in the 
 morning.' 
 
 " She made no answer, and I came close to her, 
 speaking carelessly : ' I was struck with the odd 
 setting of the ring. It is Oriental, is it not? ' 
 
 " ' I do not know, monsieur.' 
 
 " * Has it been long in your possession? ' 
 
 " ' No.' 
 
 " ' Was it made for you? ' 
 ' No ; it it was given to me.' 
 
 " ' May I look at it again? ' 
 
 " She hesitated a moment, then silently handed it 
 to me, watching me intently as I cursorily examined
 
 Marcel Levignet 65 
 
 it. Presently as I fingered lightly at the main 
 setting, she held up her hand, saying abruptly : 
 
 " ' Give it to me.' 
 
 " I looked into her eyes without offering to re- 
 turn the ring. 
 
 " 'I see, mademoiselle, that you are eager to 
 ascertain if the water has injured the powder 
 which this setting conceals.' 
 
 " She sank back in the chair and stared up at me 
 with anything but a pitiful expression. There was 
 rather an alarming composure in the steady gleam 
 of her eyes. I felt a thrill of pleasure with the 
 thought that she was quite capable of killing me in 
 that instant were the means at her disposal. It 
 was the look that went with the pin-thrust that cost 
 Chartier his life. I understood it perfectly. This 
 girl was so sensitive to the shadow of disgrace that 
 she was ready to take any step that would enable 
 her to escape its visitation. 
 
 " * What do you intend to do with me ? ' she 
 asked. 
 
 " ' That will depend entirely upon yourself, as I 
 told you last evening, mademoiselle. Perhaps, 
 like me, you are something of a fatalist. Let us 
 consider. Chance led me to save you from drown- 
 ing ; it has led me to prevent your use of the powder 
 in this ring. Who knows but Chance took me, 
 rather than another, to the house in the rue de 
 TUniversite a certain night, in order that sym-
 
 66 Marcel Levignet 
 
 pathetic, appreciative intelligence might save you 
 from the consequence of an indiscretion? You 
 imagine now that you see in me an implacable agent 
 of the law, an official Nemesis in masculine guise; 
 but you forget that it is the province of Justice to 
 defend, to protect, to shield, no less than to destroy 
 and avenge. You assume that there is no escape 
 for you except by taking your own life. I wish to 
 assure you that I will befriend you to just the extent 
 that you can convince me that you merit my com- 
 passion. You see what an advantage I offer you. 
 I am predisposed perhaps weakly so in your 
 favour. Be persuaded to improve the opportunity. 
 Tell me your story frankly, fully, honestly, for 
 I warn you that I shall detect the slightest devia- 
 tion from truth, and when I am wounded in vanity 
 well, mademoiselle, I put aside the man and 
 invoke the criminal expert.' 
 
 " This was rhodomontade, my dear Summer- 
 ville, but nothing is so effective with women of 
 the ultra-romantic temperament; and it is ultra- 
 romantic, you know, to wear a ring with a cache 
 for poison. It transformed Mademoiselle 'Toin- 
 ette. I was once adrift in a dory for three days 
 without food or drink, and when by the morning 
 light of the fourth day I saw a barque bearing to- 
 ward me, I swooned with the joy of it. So I was 
 not surprised that 'Toinette rose from her chair 
 with a cry, and fell fainting at my feet."
 
 VI 
 
 I LEAVE you to infer with what zeal I set 
 about ministering to the needs of my interest- 
 ing guest. I am not inexpert in the art of 
 putting women right, and Mademoiselle 'Toinette 
 was sensible of my efficiency. She smiled her ac- 
 knowledgments and proved her sincerity by enter- 
 ing at once upon the recital of her story. 
 
 " It was, as you would expect, a veritable com- 
 monplace of the social epic. I anticipated every 
 detail of it. There are only two stories in the sum 
 of human romance, and, given the starting-point, 
 the adept may easily provide the incidental se- 
 quences, without other aid than the rule of simple 
 addition. That her narrative squared in all essen- 
 tial particulars with the theory I had elaborated to 
 Dr. Ribault more than once was merely an evidence 
 that my intelligence was normal. I have no 
 patience with that phase of popular credulity which 
 ascribes genius to any fellow who may pretend to a 
 delphic property because he is able to discern a 
 difference between two plus two and four minus 
 two. Intuition is nothing but the perception of a 
 visible truth. Deduction is only a recognition of 
 the invariable law of cause and effect. Norn de 
 
 67
 
 68 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Dieu! Any fool can develop a theory; but, when 
 all is said and done, the greatest detective is Chance, 
 as I had the honour to remark earlier in the 
 evening. 
 
 " Briefly, then, Mademoiselle Antoinette Beau- 
 dais came of good family. Self-evident fact. One 
 of the oldest and best of French families. Pre- 
 sumptive fact. City-bred, but not Parisienne. 
 Self-evident fact. The cherished, one may say 
 spoiled, daughter of an early-widowed mother. 
 Presumptive fact. You don't like the analytical 
 process? Very well. To your prejudice. Her 
 native place was Marseilles, where she grew into 
 young womanhood, inspired to a sense of the value 
 of life by occasional short visits to Paris, as the 
 guest of her uncle, her mother's only brother.. Re- 
 turning from one of these visits, accompanied by 
 her elderly maid, it was her fortune to ride in the 
 same compartment with a strikingly handsome man 
 many years her senior, it is true, but still in the 
 verdure of his years. In a long journey, an agree- 
 able man is not without opportunities to invade the 
 reserve of the most circumspect, the most atten- 
 tively chaperoned of damsels. In this instance, 
 neither the young girl nor the maid saw the neces- 
 sity to rebuff the proffered courtesies of a gentle- 
 man so politely deferential, so unobtrusively de- 
 voted. Before the journey's end, Mademoiselle 
 'Toinette, who was then seventeen, and M. Mar-
 
 Marcel Levignet 69 
 
 tin, still on the gallant side of forty-five, as I have 
 intimated, had established a sympathy of senti- 
 ments more ardent than the character of their in- 
 troduction warranted. But to excuse her 
 'Toinette had the vivacious candour of the South- 
 ern temperament and the over-confident pride of 
 spirited innocence. She was flattered as a jeune 
 fille by the undisguised admiration of un homme 
 distingue. What asses the old masters were to 
 depict the typical man of the world with cloven 
 hoof and a spiked tail I We cast about, trying to 
 detect Lucifer by the smell of brimstone, while he 
 smilingly locks arms with us, exhaling the perfume 
 of the rue de la Paix. 
 
 " M. Martin claimed the right of escorting 
 Mademoiselle to the house, and making himself 
 known to Madame Beaudais. That estimable 
 lady was somewhat scandalised by the irregularity 
 of the proceeding, you may be sure; but an accom- 
 plished lawyer, seconded by the generous enthusi- 
 asm of a thoroughly trusted and trustworthy 
 daughter, did not find it difficult to smooth the 
 feathers of the ruffled maternal prejudice and give 
 them an extra gloss in the process. 
 
 " M. Martin won the respect of Madame Beau- 
 dais as easily as he had ensnared the artless, ro- 
 mantic fancies of Mademoiselle. He represented 
 himself as a single gentleman of private station but 
 large fortune, and spoke so familiarly of famous
 
 70 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Parisians, political, social and professional, that 
 Madame Beaudais was overwhelmed with the 
 honour of knowing a person of such worldly conse- 
 quence. She invited him to dine the following 
 evening. 
 
 " Such an auspicious beginning was the surety 
 of a rosy sequel. I can put myself into the frame 
 of mind of M. Martin, as he retired from the pres- 
 ence of mother and daughter after an interview so 
 entirely to his advantage. Shall I deliver you a 
 homily on the ethics of parental supervision ? No ? 
 You are right. No wisdom is proof against the 
 fortuitous, and maternal instinct is as illogical as a 
 rat gnawing through the wainscot of a deserted 
 chamber."
 
 VII 
 
 THE intimacy between M. Martin and the 
 Beaudais waxed apace. His visits from 
 Paris to Marseilles became more and 
 more frequent, his stays in the maritime town more 
 prolonged. Strolls in the Prado, drives along the 
 coast, excursions by boat, anything, everything to 
 further the schemes of the rascally Eros. Of 
 course Madame Beaudais hovered, watchful, over 
 the proprieties, but, until you invent a duenna with ] 
 as many eyes as Argus and the prevision of Sibyl, 
 you must not blame a doting mother if she some- 
 times sees neither the hawk nor the hernshaw. 
 
 " Finally, M. Martin made a formal proposal 
 for the hand of Mademoiselle. Rapture of the 
 seventh heaven! 'Toinette a gossamer on the 
 bosom of Zephyrus! Only the rapture was sub- 
 dued and the west wind chilled by the prompt ar- 
 rival from Paris of a packet of papers addressed 
 to M. Jules Martin, which that unhappy gentleman 
 hastened to spread before the eyes of Madame and 
 her daughter. Soul-harrowing intervention of the 
 unforeseen! In some mysterious way, the inten- 
 tion of Monsieur to marry had become known in 
 Paris. His legal advisers had taken the liberty of 
 forwarding papers to remind him that, in the event 
 
 71
 
 72 Marcel Levigq^t 
 
 of his marriage before the demise of a certain 
 elderly lady, Monsieur must forfeit the half of his 
 fortune to the said lady, her heirs and assigns for- 
 ever. The surrender of half his possessions would 
 be an inconvenience to Monsieur; and the idea was 
 the more intolerable for the reason that the lady to 
 benefit by the partition was already nine-tenths 
 gathered to her fathers, with scarce a twelve^ 
 month's tenure of life left to her. But if the sacri- 
 fice of fortune was insupportable, the abandonment 
 of his joyous prospects as the husband of Mademoi- 
 selle was impossible. The delay of a year to the 
 consummation of his ideal hopes, proposed by 
 Madame Beaudais, was equally out of the ques- 
 tion. What to do? The simple solution of the 
 problem was, of course, a secret marriage a secret 
 to be guarded only during the brief, though vexa- 
 tious, period through which the elderly lady would 
 be able to persist in her annoying longevity. 
 Vigorous protests from Madame; tears from 
 Mademoiselle; persuasive arguments from Mon- 
 sieur! A passionate week of conflicting interests. 
 ( Eh, bien! When the positive evades you, the ex- 
 / pedient comes into play. The confidence of 'Toin- 
 ette and the assurances of Monsieur prevailed over 
 the scruples and pride of Madame. Sentiment dis- 
 comfited judgment, as it has a disastrous habit of 
 doing, and Madame Beaudais lent herself to a plan 
 that hurried the three of them off to London, M.
 
 Marcel Levignet 73 
 
 Martin going two days in advance to prepare a 
 place for the ladies. The sullen skies of England 
 would have brought Madame Beaudais to repent- 
 ance before the legal formalities were done with, 
 if the weather-proof sentiments of her daughter 
 had not been a palliative of melancholy. The in- 
 dulgent creature braved it out, not without mur- 
 murings, and was rewarded in due time with the 
 privilege of raining beneficent tears upon the flutter- 
 ing breast of * Madame Martin,' as they drove 
 from the church after a decisive ceremony. While 
 they were rejoicing in a nuptial breakfast a trois, 
 served in a private room of a quiet hotel, * M. 
 Martin ' drew from his waistcoat pocket a curious 
 and costly ring, which he offered to the admiration 
 of the ladies. 
 
 " ' Cherie,' he said to 'Toinette, * a plain gold 
 ring on your finger will excite the curiosity of your 
 friends and imperil our precious secret. I pro- 
 pose, therefore, that you substitute this for the 
 simple telltale, until the danger is past. I will 
 put it on your finger with the wish that our public 
 re-marriage by the beloved cure of your own native 
 parish may be no longer delayed than our return to 
 Marseilles a month hence.' 
 
 " Madame Beaudais had a superstitious horror 
 of the removal of the wedding ring, and marshalled 
 the folk lore of the Midi for the past thousand 
 years to sustain her objection, in addition to urging
 
 74 Marcel Levignet 
 
 the impiety of the act. But the eagerness of 'Toin- 
 ette to possess the treasure, and the lovingly good- 
 natured banter of M. Martin were too much for 
 the resistance of the pliant mamma, who already 
 began to be aware of the decline of maternal au- 
 thority. The exchange of rings was made, and 
 Monsieur slipped the plain gold one into his pocket 
 for * safe-keeping.' 
 
 " * Some time,' he said laughingly, * I will show 
 you how much more valuable that ring you have is 
 than you suspect, for it has the power to cure all the 
 ills of life that press too heavily on you ! ' 
 
 " So it was that 'Toinette came to have the cache- 
 poison jewel that gave me the honour of her ac- 
 quaintance. Look you. I have it now." 
 
 Levignet took the ring from a case he drew from 
 his breast-pocket and passed it across the table to 
 me. When I had returned it to him, after com- 
 menting on its richness and beauty of workman- 
 ship, he tapped the main setting with his finger, 
 and remarked, with a fantastical glance and smile : 
 
 " Do you know, my dear Summerville, that if I 
 ever get quite, quite weary of this delectable Paris, 
 I think it would be sweet to go to rest under the 
 benediction of Mademoiselle 'Toinette." 
 
 "You you, Levignet! You take poison! 
 Preposterous ! " 
 
 " It would not be poison, it would be ambrosia, 
 my friend," he replied, with an unaccustomed touch
 
 Marcel Levignet 75 
 
 of sentiment in his tone, as he restored the ring and 
 case to his pocket. 
 
 " Upon my word, Levignet," I said jestingly, " I 
 believe you are in love with the memory of 
 Toinette!" 
 
 " C'est vrai" he replied simply, for the first 
 time lapsing into French, for he was rather proud 
 of his English. " // n'y a qu'une seule fleur dans 
 le jardin de mon cour" 
 
 I respected the confession, and there were a few 
 moments of silence between us, during which Levi- 
 gnet trimmed and lighted a cigar. 
 
 "Allans done! To our muttons," he resumed, 
 in the old, half cynical, half-humorous tone, blow- 
 ing a canopy of smoke over his head. " A gay 
 month followed the ' wedding.' Honey and rose 
 colour everywhere. Mad rushes to historic spots 
 that were seen through a haze of amatory emotions ; 
 dashes to Continental spas and casinos, dissipated 
 capitals and romantic seclusions, German towns and 
 Italian hamlets the usual olla podrida of the 
 honeymoon incontinence. Then, affecting leave- 
 takings as Madame Beaudais headed for Marseilles 
 and M. and Mme. Martin hurried to Paris, Mon- 
 sieur having business that urgently demanded his 
 presence. 
 
 " The question had been how to deal with the 
 uncle of 'Toinette, the General de Francault. 
 Should he be admitted into the secret? Madame
 
 76 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Beaudais had urged that her brother be taken fully 
 into the confidence, but M. Martin advanced so 
 many irrefutable reasons for the postponement of 
 the conference that 'Toinette was convinced of the 
 superior wisdom of his plan. It was agreed that 
 General de Francault should be kept in the dark 
 for the present. There were difficulties, of course. 
 'Toinette could not easily remain long in Paris 
 without risk that the fact would become known to 
 the General or some member of his family. The 
 bold course always offers the largest degree of se- 
 curity, as M. Martin very well knew, so he wisely 
 determined to have 'Toinette go at once to the 
 avuncular residence in her virgin character, her 
 maid, blissfully ignorant of any change in the state 
 of her young mistress, coming from the South to 
 give colour to the innocent deception. 
 
 " But provision had to be made for the pursuit 
 of conjugal happiness, and to that end M. Martin 
 introduced 'Toinette to a certain Madame Clifton, 
 an Englishwoman supposed to be fabulously rich, 
 who had come to reside in Paris because a consti- 
 tutional delicacy made the climate of London in- 
 tolerable to her. The readily received excuse for 
 the intimacy that established itself between 
 Madame Clifton and 'Toinette was the desire of 
 'Toinette to acquire a knowledge of the English 
 tongue. Everything is justified, my dear Summer- 
 ville, that furthers the quest of knowledge, and I
 
 Marcel Levignet 77 
 
 do not pretend to charge General de Francault with 
 unpardonable laxity in permitting his niece to en- 
 joy a large freedom in her intercourse with 
 Madame Clifton, whom he could but accept at her 
 own valuation. I have myself met few women 
 who bring to the service of the devil such a thor- 
 oughly puritan severity of conduct and demean- 
 our as distinguishes that remarkable woman. A 
 church devotee, a rigorous observer of all the ex- 
 ternal proprieties, as exclusive as the most punc- 
 tilious of the French noblesse, she went far, in the 
 two chance conversations I have had with her, to 
 shake my faith in the truth of 'Toinette's story in 
 its relation to her. She became a frequent guest 
 of the de Francaults, and so completely gained the 
 esteem of the family that it was regarded as a priv- 
 ilege to have 'Toinette in her care even for a week 
 at a time. I need not tell you that M. Martin 
 knew the open sesame to Madame Clifton's man- 
 sion, which served him when 'Toinette was a visitor. 
 
 " One evening, when the three were sitting over 
 their coffee after dinner, Madame Clifton suddenly 
 asked, with a rather peculiar smile: 
 
 " * Well, monsieur, how much longer is the coup 
 to be deferred? I begin to find the situation 
 troublesome.' 
 
 u ' Ah,' said Monsieur dolorously, turning to fix 
 his eyes on 'Toinette, * Madame Clifton is becom- 
 ing anxious. She is expecting friends to stop with
 
 78 Marcel Levignet 
 
 her, and fears that she cannot conceal* from them 
 a secret so necessary to our future welfare, my be- 
 loved 'Toinette. The cruel lady is to turn us out, 
 my soul.' 
 
 " ' Turn us out,' echoed 'Toinette. * What 
 then, are we to do, mon man? I shall not be able 
 to see you 1 ' 
 
 " ' Give yourself no uneasiness on that score, 
 cherie,' said M. Martin, playfully tossing a crumb 
 of biscuit at her. ' Drive that cloud of anxiety 
 from your eyes. It is not as serious as you fear. 
 I have taken a house that shall be our home quite 
 a home of our own, where we shall be as independ- 
 ent as becomes a devoted married couple.' 
 
 '" * But I cannot go there ! ' objected 'Toinette. 
 * How could I explain my absence from my uncle ? ' 
 * You will have nothing to explain, my dear,' 
 interposed Madame Clifton. * Your uncle shall 
 not know that you do not come to me as usual. It 
 is much the better arrangement, my dear, and will 
 take some tension off my nerves.' 
 
 1 'Toinette was soon enthusiastic over the idea 
 of being mistress of her own home. 
 
 " ' Come,' said M. Martin, * get together what 
 things are necessary, and we will go to make ac- 
 quaintance of our new home this very evening.' 
 
 " It was done as M. Martin suggested, and 
 'Toinette passed her first night in the house in the 
 rue de 1'Universite."
 
 VIII 
 
 FIVE months of clandestine romance passed 
 unclouded, and then by degrees, the manner 
 of Monsieur changed somewhat. He be- 
 came less ardent in his devotion. He pleaded oc- 
 cupations. He often failed of his appointments, 
 and 'Toinette passed lonely nights in the desolate 
 house, having been forbidden by Monsieur to be 
 friendly with Mme. Arnot, the housekeeper. He 
 would make journeys that kept him from town for 
 a week or two, without offering to take 'Toinette 
 with him. Most unpleasant of all, he began to 
 hint that it might be better for 'Toinette to return 
 to Marseilles until the * elderly lady ' had been 
 wafted to a region that takes no reckoning of for- 
 feitures and reversions of a material character. 
 
 " 'Toinette, though of a trustful nature, did not 
 lack discrimination. Her pride was touched, at 
 length, and the awkwardness of her position as an 
 unacknowledged wife sharpened her resentment of 
 unkindnesses that were very near akin to humiliat- 
 ing slights. She came to the conclusion that her 
 personal rights were superior to any consideration 
 of estates and fortunes, and that it was more im- 
 portant to establish her wifehood in the respect of 
 her family and acquaintances than to secure a for- 
 
 79
 
 8o Marcel Levignet 
 
 tune greater than her needs by means which her 
 calm judgment condemned as despicable and 
 fraudulent. 
 
 " Having resolved to set the matter in this light 
 before the mind of M. Martin, and yet apprehen- 
 sive of his opposition, 'Toinette drove to the house 
 of Madame Clifton to consult her as a friend. 
 Madame Clifton was very sympathetic. She con- 
 curred entirely in the views of 'Toinette. * When 
 was she to see M. Martin ? ' 'Toinette had had an 
 appointment with him that evening. 
 
 " ' I was to have gone there to dine with him. 
 But I was troubled. I have been of a mind not to 
 see him in this way again. He may have got tired 
 of waiting for me, and left the house.* 
 
 " * Go see,' advised Madame Clifton. * And 
 after you have talked with him, come tell me what 
 he says. I am curious.' 
 
 " Madame Clifton laughed in a way that struck 
 'Toinette oddly. 
 
 "' Why do you laugh?' 
 
 " ' You young girls are so droll,' replied 
 Madame Clifton. ' Trifling distinctions make such 
 a vast difference in your views of the commonplace. 
 But I hope you will have good judgment.' 
 
 1 'Toinette took a cab to the rue de 1'Universite. 
 M. Martin having given up the expectation of see- 
 ing her, had dined alone, sparingly, and, complain- 
 ing of a headache, had gone to his room.
 
 Marcel Levignet 81 
 
 " 'Toinette found him already asleep in bed. 
 
 "'Oh! you have come?' he asked, on being 
 aroused. * I despaired of seeing you. Pardon me 
 that a megrim was too much for my gallantry. I 
 took some morphine and I fear I'm too heavy- 
 witted to talk agreeably. I shall fall asleep in the 
 midst of a sentence. We can chat over our coffee 
 in the morning. My impression is that I have 
 something to tell you. Come.' 
 
 " ' No' said 'Toinette ' I shall never again be a 
 wife to you until you have properly presented me to 
 your friends and freed me from the necessity of 
 deceiving my own.' 
 
 * Very well. We can discuss that in the morn- 
 ing. I'm too dull for an argument now.' 
 
 " ' There is to be no argument. You must take 
 me out of this false position at once. I shall refuse 
 to see you until you come as my husband to claim 
 me in my uncle's house.' 
 
 " * Oh, very well,' said Monsieur, with a laugh. 
 * Let it be that way.' 
 
 " His careless speech, his indifference, filled 
 'Toinette with a fear she could not define. 
 
 " ' You will let me be separated from you ? You 
 think more of the superfluous part of your fortune 
 than you do of your wife her happiness her 
 credit her honour ? ' 
 
 " ' My dear 'Toinette, if you are going to be 
 melodramatic, first hand me that phial on the table
 
 82 Marcel Levignet 
 
 there. I must clear my head to appreciate your 
 rhapsody. I have wondered what your anger 
 would be like. You have a splendid face for the 
 violent emotions.' 
 
 " 'Toinette turned to the table to fetch him the 
 phial, and, in reaching for it, knocked a silver card- 
 case to the floor from a heap of articles M. Martin 
 had left near the edge of the table. The case flew 
 open and scattered some cards on the rug. 'Toin- 
 ette took the antidote to M. Martin, who drank a 
 portion of the liquid, re-corked the phial and placed 
 it under his pillow. 
 
 " l Now, cherie, if you will have the grace to re- 
 move your hat, to give a more sociable air to our 
 tete-a-tete, I will undertake to persuade you to 
 change your resolutions.' 
 
 " 'Toinette silently took off her hat, and, on go- 
 ing to put it on the table, observed the fallen case 
 and scattered cards. She stooped to pick them up, 
 as M. Martin was saying : 
 
 " ' We are all creatures of destiny, my well-be- 
 loved, and are no more responsible for the motives 
 that impel us to action than we are for the accidents 
 that befall us. A foolish convention has placed 
 our natural instincts and holiest impulses under the 
 ban, and has anathematised the very law that gave 
 us being; but intelligent minds that see clearly 
 above and beyond the ignorant prejudices of the 
 vulgar, perceive that return to the laws of Nature
 
 Marcel Levignet 83 
 
 is inevitable Good Heaven! What is the 
 
 matter?' 
 
 " 'Toinette had read the inscription on one of 
 the cards, and, excitedly comparing it with the 
 others, had uttered a cry of consternation on find- 
 ing that all the cards bore the same distinguished 
 name. 
 
 " ' Whose cards are these? ' she demanded fear- 
 fully, holding them toward him as she hurried to 
 the bedside. ' Are they your own? ' 
 
 " ' And if they are, loveliest of women? ' 
 
 " ' Are you Judge Chartier? ' 
 
 " * Is it not an honourable name, cherie? ' 
 
 " ' And you are not Jules Martin? ' 
 
 " ' Oh, yes to you, belle 'Toinette.' 
 
 "'Oh, God! Oh, God!' 
 
 " She clutched at her breast, and stared at him. 
 She gazed with motionless horror into the hand- 
 some face, seeing a mockingly confident smile part- 
 ing the dark-bearded lips, a cruelly triumphant 
 twinkle in the eyes that regarded her. She was 
 dumb-stricken with the agony of the one thought 
 that beat at her brain. 
 
 " ' What does it matter, Tonine? Paris is the > 
 elysium of souls like ours. It is the paradise of \ 
 unwritten romance. You are but one of thousands 
 who give brilliance to our gay world. What signi- 
 fies a name to the joyous ? mart or amant, madame \ 
 or maitresse! Have we not been happy? Shall -
 
 84 Marcel Levignet 
 
 we not be happier still? Shall a priest say when 
 and how much we may drink from the chalice of 
 Life I Come, my beautiful ! I hold out my arms 
 to you. If you have been deceived in them, it was 
 the deception of love. Let love make repara- 
 tion. I am yours; you are mine. Come; the in- 
 evitable is the divine. Destiny has united us. 
 Let us not profane the decree of Fate.' 
 
 " It seemed to 'Toinette that she had lost com- 
 mand over her powers and faculties. She listened, 
 standing in the fixed attitude of despair, silent, 
 numb, not conscious of an emotion. 
 
 "'What! are you turned to stone? Then 
 Pygmalion's kisses shall quicken the glorious 
 Galatea ! ' 
 
 " He rose laughingly and came toward her, his 
 arms outstretched to embrace her. The stiletto- 
 like pin she had taken from her hat was still in her 
 hand. He caught her in his arms and drew her 
 toward him, laughing. The laugh sharpened into 
 a cry; his hold upon her relaxed; he fell to the floor. 
 There were some spasmodic movements, and he lay 
 still."
 
 IX 
 
 5^ HiOINETTE, vaguely realising what had 
 happened, knelt beside him, passionately 
 
 -*- calling him by name, trying to raise him. 
 A blood-stain on the bosom of his night robe 
 caught her eye. A great fear seized her. She 
 rose, snatched up her hat, ran from the room and 
 down into the street. 
 
 " A cab was just passing the door, but the 
 driver, nodding sleepily on the box, did not observe 
 her. She crouched among the shadows till the way 
 was clear, and then ran swiftly, like one pursued. 
 She was not aware of the direction she followed 
 until she found herself, panting and exhausted, pull- 
 ing at the bell of Madame Clifton's street door. 
 The cord was pulled by the concierge and she en- 
 tered, slamming the door behind her. She called 
 her name to the concierge as she passed the window 
 and hurried up the dark stairs. She beat at 
 Madame's door, and after a time Madame herself 
 admitted her. 
 
 " ' What brings you here at this hour? ' she de- 
 manded apprehensively. 
 
 " ' I have killed him.' 
 
 " Madame Clifton hurried her into the bedroom 
 85
 
 86 Marcel Levignet 
 
 and bolted the doors, and then, seizing 'Toinette 
 by the shoulders, flung her upon the bed, clutched 
 her by the throat and seemed bent on strangling 
 her as she cried : 
 
 " ' How dared you come here ! How dared you 
 come to me! You miserable thing! Do you 
 think I am to be ruined by you! I'll kill you! 
 I'll kill you!' 
 
 " Nothing better could have happened to 'Toin- 
 ette. The physical violence roused, as nothing else 
 could have done, the instinct of self-preservation. 
 Her efforts to save herself from the furious rage of 
 her assailant drove from her mind the horror of 
 the last half-hour. She was the younger and the 
 stronger woman. She freed herself, and ran to 
 open a window. 
 
 " ' If you come near me, I will call to the people 
 in the street ! ' 
 
 "'Come away from the window! I won't 
 touch you ! But you must quit my house ! I will 
 not have you found here ! ' 
 
 "' Where shall I go?' 
 
 " * What do I care ! Go to your uncle or to 
 the river; the river is the safer place for such mad 
 fools as you! But leave my house! Now! 
 Now!' 
 
 " ' Yes, I will go to the river. It is the better 
 place for mad fools like me.' 
 
 " Madame Clifton hastened to unbolt the door
 
 Marcel Levignet 87 
 
 and open it as 'Toinette came toward her. But, 
 suddenly changing her mind, she closed and fas- 
 tened it again. 
 
 " * No. I won't trust you. You haven't the 
 courage to go to the river. You will go to your 
 uncle, and snivel out some lie to throw the blame 
 on me. I know your kind. I'll not lose sight of 
 you. You shall go with me. Come! Come! 
 Help me to pack. I know a hole where we can 
 hide until I find a chance to get away from this 
 cursed France, then you may go to the devil. 
 Fool ! fool ! fool ! You didn't know enough to mend 
 a torn garment. You needs must hang yourself 
 with it.' 
 
 " The idea of flight seized upon the disordered 
 mind of 'Toinette. She obeyed feverishly the di- 
 rections of Madame Clifton, and their common 
 peril established a truce between them as they 
 made their preparations. In a few minutes, pro- 
 vided only with light hand-bags, they left the 
 rooms, locking the doors behind them, and hurried 
 down the stairs. It was necessary to arouse the 
 concierge to open the outer door. Madame Clif- 
 ton made a virtue of the necessity. She rapped at 
 the window, calling, until the concierge came 
 grumblingly to open it. 
 
 " ' Monsieur Fodel, Mademoiselle Beaudais has 
 received word that her mother is dangerously ill. 
 I am going to Marseilles with her. I shall be gone
 
 88 Marcel Levignet 
 
 several days. Explain to anyone who calls. Open 
 the door, please.' 
 
 " They found a cab in the next street. 
 
 " Gare de Lyons,' ordered Madame Clifton. 
 
 " ' At what time can I get a train for Mar- 
 seilles ? ' she demanded at the ticket window of the 
 station. . 
 
 " ' Train for Lyons in twenty minutes, madame.' 
 
 " ' Two tickets for the first class. Is there a 
 compartment exclusively for ladies ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, madame/ 
 
 " At train time Madame Clifton ostentatiously 
 conferred with the guard, tipped him to secure 
 Mademoiselle and herself in the compartment, and 
 in a variety of ways attracted attention to herself 
 before entering the carriage to take her place be- 
 side 'Toinette. As soon as the guard turned to 
 leave them, Madame took from her pocket a rail- 
 way carriage key, and proceeded to unlock the 
 opposite door. 
 
 " * Be ready to follow me,' she said to 'Toinette. 
 c The moment the train starts, we will get out. Be 
 careful how you jump down. If you fall, I shall 
 not wait for you.' 
 
 " Madame's ingenious plan was successfully 
 carried out, perilous as it was. You may blame 
 me, but I respect a resourceful, definitive intelli- 
 gence, my dear Summerville. Even a criminal 
 genius is a splendid abnormity. Some day I will
 
 Marcel Levignet 89 
 
 give you a convincing proof that Madame Clifton 
 has the kind of perverted talent that would im- 
 mortalise a Cabinet Minister had he the use of it. 
 That as it goes. But I have not erred in including 
 Madame Clifton among the exceptionally endowed 
 protagonists of the social comedy. Ninety-nine 
 women in a hundred of her general type would 
 have figured on the probable advantage of six on 
 eight hours free time before the discovery of the 
 body of Judge Chartier, and would have made 
 haste to get out of Paris, if not out of France en- 
 tirely. Madame Clifton asked for no better 
 asylum than the open streets of Paris. 
 
 " Within an hour after the retreat from the 
 train, Madame Clifton and 'Toinette were safely 
 sheltered in an upper back room of a miserable 
 tenement somewhere off the Faubourg St. Denis, 
 and a forbidding looking crone, fulsomely devoted 
 to Madame, was parcelling them out coarse gar- 
 ments to put on in place of their own."
 
 X 
 
 WHEN the sun came peering over the 
 housetops to cheer the alert ' pavement 
 merchants' in the neighbourhood of the 
 Porte St. Denis, Madame Clifton and 'Toinette, 
 transformed by smirchings of lamp-black as well 
 as by their unaccustomed attire, sat on opposite 
 corners of the way, ready to vend flowers from 
 their ample baskets. 
 
 " * This is our business for the next week or ten 
 days,' Madame Clifton admonished 'Toinette. 
 1 Don't play the fool with your pretty face; and 
 haggle for the sous. At the end of the week I shall 
 know what to do.' 
 
 " The morning papers appeared, and though 
 they contained no mention of the midnight affair 
 in the rue de 1'Universite, they were none the less 
 eagerly scanned by the miserable 'Toinette, to 
 whom the hours had been ages, and to whose ear 
 every footstep behind her sounded a note of terror. 
 Madame Clifton, on the contrary, would have been 
 perfectly serene and found pleasure in her excel- 
 lently sustained impersonation but for a trifling 
 anxiety lest 'Toinette should betray herself. 
 
 "At noon, they took up their nearly emptied 
 90
 
 baskets and trudged back to the tenement off the 
 Faubourg St. Denis, Madame saying to 'Toinette : 
 
 " * I am very well satisfied with you. You have 
 shown more courage and self-possession than I 
 thought you had. There may be something in you 
 after all. If there is, I can give you a career. I 
 shall see how you will behave this afternoon, when 
 the evening papers come out. They will be sure 
 to have it, and everybody will be talking about it. 
 You must nerve yourself to listen to the street 
 comment without moving a muscle. Get used in 
 your own mind to hearing them talk about the 
 assassination of Judge Chattier; then, when you 
 really do hear them, you can keep your headl I 
 will practice it with you when we get home to our 
 attic.' 
 
 " 'Toinette moaned a protest. 
 
 " ' Don't be a fool. The universe hasn't sus- 
 pended operations because of what you have done. 
 Everything is going on the same. You attach too 
 much importance to yourself. You egotists ridic- 
 ulously exaggerate the significance of your doing 
 and not doing. You imagine that all Paris is 
 thinking about you now. No one is thinking about 
 you but ourselves. There are five million egotists 
 in Paris. Half of them are assassins in fact or 
 potentially. Don't give yourself airs. It is not 
 such a wonderful thing to kill a man. Judge 
 Chartier was amusing and useful, and I shall miss
 
 92 Marcel Levignet 
 
 him; but what I regret most is the loss of the 50,- 
 ooo francs he paid me annually. If you had not 
 been such a silly provincial, everything might have 
 been charmingly arranged. I hate fools who make 
 a fetich of virtue as if there were really room for 
 such a fantastical cult in our busy world. This is 
 the age of gold nothing else counts. If you 
 have plenty of that, you need no other credentials. 
 You will find that out before you are much older, 
 if you will let me save you from the predicament 
 into which your silly sentiments have pushed 
 you.' 
 
 " Madame Clifton's practical way of viewing 
 the situation was revolting to 'Toinette; but I 
 imagine the tactics were precisely the ones needed 
 to meet the emergency, for they served to make 
 'Toinette lay hold on herself and pull herself res- 
 olutely together. Our antipathies often serve us 
 better in crises than our sympathies. As for me, 
 my ambition is to play my wits against Madame 
 Clifton one day. It will come; it will come, my 
 friend. 
 
 " When Madame heard them crying Le Jour, 
 La Patrie in the streets, she hastened to get copies 
 and turn to the sensation page. The first glance 
 disconcerted her. There was the matter for which 
 she looked but what unexpected headlines 
 what an undreamed-of tone in the article! No 
 hint of assassination, no suggestion of mystery
 
 Marcel Levignet 93 
 
 merely an elaborate obituary notice in the profes- 
 sional vein of lamentation over a public character 
 suddenly struck down in a prosaically natural way! 
 Judge Chartier had passed a light-hearted evening 
 with his friend Dr. Ribault ! In the very midst of 
 leave-taking, he gave a startled exclamation and 
 fell, caught in the arms of his friend ! The doctor, 
 who only too well conjectured what was the nature 
 of the attack, immediately administered restora- 
 tives ; but he soon saw that there was little hope of 
 saving his friend's life! His thoughts turned to 
 the stricken family awaiting the return of the be- 
 loved husband and father! Could he get Judge 
 Chartier home in time to allow wife and daughter 
 at least one last look upon his living face? The 
 attempt should be made! Dr. Ribault ordered 
 out his carriage with all speed, the semi-conscious 
 gentleman was borne to it carefully and driven to 
 his home in the Avenue d'Antin ! But it was only 
 the shell of the noble and gifted soul that was 
 carried into the library and laid reverently on the 
 leather sofa ! 
 
 " What did it all mean? Madame looked from 
 one to the other of the two papers, but the accounts 
 were substantially the same, and the editorial com- 
 ment was in accord with them. She went into the 
 back room, where 'Toinette lay on the bed, her 
 face hidden in the pillow. 
 
 " * Here, get up ! Look at this ! ' Madame com-
 
 94 Marcel Levignet 
 
 manded. ' Have you been making a fool of your- 
 self, or is this all rubbish? ' 
 
 " 'Toinette read the article in a dazed, be- 
 wildered way. She could not comprehend it. Was 
 it all illusion? Was that frightful vision which 
 seemed to have burnt into her brain only the crea- 
 tion of her heart-sick fancy? But her glance fell 
 upon the bandaged hand holding one side of the 
 paper. If there was a dream, a fancy, an illusion, 
 how came that triangular wound in her palm? 
 
 " * I don't understand,' she said to Madame 
 Clifton. 
 
 " ' This newspaper stuff is all a lie, then? ' 
 
 11 ' Yes.' 
 
 " ' Then there are but two possible explanations 
 of it; either the family is determined to avoid a 
 scandal by concealing the fact of the crime or, 
 the police have set a trap for us.' 
 
 " Oh, I am sure it is a trick of the police ! ' ex- 
 claimed 'Toinette, as if she were already in the 
 web. 
 
 " ' My opinion is exactly the contrary,' said 
 Madame, with positiveness. ' I do not credit the 
 police with the cleverness to lay such a snare. The 
 police are being duped themselves. I know this 
 Dr. Ribault. He is an unscrupulous old fox, and 
 he is an intimate of the Chartier household. It 
 would not surprise me in the least if this whole 
 story were his own concoction and he had imposed
 
 Marcel Levignet 95 
 
 it on the family. He has a reason of his own for 
 deceiving the world, including the Chartiers, I 
 haven't a doubt, and he befooled the mother and 
 her children as he is now befooling the public. 
 That is my theory, and I shall act on it. If my 
 judgment is correct, we are absolutely safe. All 
 we have to do is to get out of the little scrape into 
 which we have fallen by our unnecessary flight. 
 We must take the first train for Marseilles. The 
 chances are that we will encounter none of the rail- 
 way people who saw us last night. If we do, the 
 simple way to cheat curiosity is to say that I felt 
 too ill to travel last night, and that we left the 
 train just before it started; and I can lament the 
 delay in a fashion to convince shrewder men than 
 railway employes. From Marseilles we will send 
 a telegram to satisfy your uncle as to your running 
 away without telling him, and we can manage 
 your mother without difficulty.' 
 
 " Madame Clifton was as vivacious as one of 
 the perennial dlvettes of a cafe chantant. She took 
 her hand in the game started by Dr. Ribault with 
 the gaiety of an unfailingly lucky and expert 
 player. 
 
 " She called the old hag to fetch from hiding 
 their proper toilettes and laughingly escaped ex- 
 planations by tossing several gold pieces into the 
 claws of the woman. The creature had no wish to 
 question the conduct or sound the motive of a
 
 96 Marcel Levignet 
 
 patroness as liberal as she knew Madame Clifton 
 to be. Ah! Summerville, Paris is a city of mar- 
 vellous convenience for the exercise of one's genius, 
 if one's purse has the right jingle. Midas need 
 not have been ashamed of his ears had his palace 
 fronted on our incomparable Champs Elysees. 
 He might have flaunted them and his vices in the 
 face of the modern world with splendid impudence 
 as long as gold dropped from his finger-tips. 
 Glorious age! I love it! We can scoff at the 
 divinities of heaven while we propitiate Mammon 
 with the largesse of material opulence. We have 
 bound Religion and Mortality to the wheels of our 
 gilded chariot and made them our bond-slaves. 
 We fling coins into the folds of their mud-spattered 
 garments, and they absolve us with smiling bene- 
 diction. Church and State scramble in the offal 
 for the minted tokens we fling there in our revels; 
 and the incense of our altars, sacred and profane, 
 is the intoxicating reek of our consuming passions 
 that set the mad world dancing, priest and poten- 
 tate, patriarch and judge, among the rest. If we 
 worship gods of metal, let us reverence the priest- 
 esses of Matter, be they like the gorgeous Madame 
 Clifton or like her sordid confederate of the Fau- 
 bourg St. Denis. Big cog or little cog, whatever 
 keeps the wheel spinning deserves the applause of 
 the voluptuary. Fill your glass."
 
 XI 
 
 MADAME CLIFTON and 'Toinette 
 make their way to Marseilles without 
 adventure; despatch a serviceable mes- 
 sage to General de Francault; persuade Madame 
 Beaudais to a few days of illness that is not alto- 
 gether a sham, for the dear lady is languishing 
 under a persistent cough caught out of the fogs of 
 England; and at the end of a week Madame Clif- 
 ton, leaving the wretched 'Toinette to cheer the 
 invalidism of her mother, returns serenely to Paris 
 and resumes the orderly life of benevolent piety so 
 rudely, but needlessly interrupted. Meantime, a 
 stout casket of mahogany, sealed under a marble 
 block of substantial weight, had hidden the wax- 
 filled puncture in the breast of Judge Chartier 
 from the range of inquisitive eyes. Everything 
 adjusted to a marvel. Nothing to fear; nothing 
 to apprehend. Madame Clifton was free to drive 
 at pleasure in the Bois; lean, lorgnette in hand, over 
 the edge of her box at the Opera ; relax her dignity 
 in some favourite salon; nibble her partridge wing 
 in what fashionable restaurant she chose, confident 
 that " all Paris " looking on would approve her as 
 the model of propriety. 
 
 97
 
 98 Marcel Levignet 
 
 ! 'Toinette remained with her mother, meeting 
 the good woman's inquiries about M. Martin with 
 evasions that in time grew into elaborate romances 
 calculated to soothe the maternal solicitude. 
 Broken hearts have a way of mending, you know, 
 like the claw of a lobster, when Nature is the phy- 
 sician; but broken hearts do not mend under nor- 
 mal conditions any more readily than the stings of 
 conscience abate under the influence of an increas- 
 ing sense of security. In caring for her mother, 
 'Toinette gradually became less concerned about 
 herself ; and, when, a year or eighteen months later, 
 Madame Beaudais shivered and shrank into silence 
 at the passing of the Mistral, the only burden that 
 weighed heavily on 'Toinette's heart was the loss 
 of this most unwise, but tenderly loving and be- 
 loved mother. 
 
 " Having no other home, 'Toinette came to 
 Paris in her orphanage to live with General de 
 Francault, her uncle. That was in the early 
 spring of 1891. It was an evening toward the 
 end of November of that year that I saw her first, 
 when I returned her the ring which I had got from 
 Benoist." 
 
 Levignet emptied his glass, dried his moustache 
 and tossed his serviette on the table.
 
 XII 
 
 THERE, Summerville, you have my version 
 of the story she told me in the small hours 
 of the next morning, seated in the great 
 chair of my guest chamber, her exquisite figure 
 mocked by the ridiculous garments of old Suzel. 
 She did not tell it as heartlessly as I have repeated 
 it. No for I was more than once glad that the 
 condition of the fire gave me an excuse for turn- 
 ing my eyes from her, and more than once she 
 needed my encouraging words to help her to go on. 
 " * Mademoiselle,' I said, when she had ended, 
 4 your secret is as safe as if you had hidden it under 
 the Seine safer, for the Seine is not always faith- 
 ful to its trust. It often betrays its refugees. Be- 
 ware of it. Your secret is safe with me, because 
 in my heart and in my conscience I exonerate you. 
 Others might not; I do, entirely. Besides our 
 two selves there is only this Madame Clifton who 
 could connect you with the regrettable accident 
 which cost Judge Chartier his life. She is even 
 more trustworthy than I, for she would not dare 
 let it be suspected that she knows anything of that 
 event. You can return to your uncle's house in 
 perfect security.' 
 
 99
 
 ioo Marcel Levignet 
 
 " ' No no I cannot ! ' she interrupted pit- 
 eously. ' I have left a letter telling him that I 
 was going to the river and why.' 
 
 " ' But you can justify yourself to him I ' 
 
 " * No ! When he has read that letter, I shall 
 not have the courage to face him.' 
 
 " * You wrote the letter after you had retired to 
 your room for the night ? ' 
 
 " * Yes I I went early. All the guests had not 
 yet gone. That is how I managed to leave the 
 house without attracting the attention of the 
 concierge.' 
 
 " I looked at my watch. It was five o'clock in 
 the morning. 
 
 " ' Where did you leave the letter? ' 
 
 " ' On my dressing-table.' 
 
 " 'What is the name of your concierge?' 
 
 " ' Borel M. Borel.' 
 
 " * Gaspard Borel, possibly? ' 
 
 " * I am not sure.' 
 
 " ' Formerly a bank messenger? ' 
 
 " ' I do not know.' 
 
 " * Humph 1 It may be. How long since you 
 have seen Madame Clifton?' 
 
 " ' Oh, monsieur! ' 
 
 " * Pardon me. Not since you returned to 
 Paris?' 
 
 " ' No, monsieur I ' 
 
 " 4 Very well.' I rose. ' It is necessary,
 
 Marcel Levignet 101 
 
 Mademoiselle, that you sleep. I shall send Suzel 
 to you. Oblige me by being ruled by her. In the 
 afternoon I shall see you again. In the meantime, 
 courage. Dismiss your fears. Be at peace. I 
 assure you that everything will be well.' 
 
 " I stroked her head encouragingly, and she re- 
 warded me with the ghost of a grateful but 
 troubled smile. I was about to restore her ring 
 to her, but something in the smile made me uneasy, 
 and I put the ring in my pocket and took my leave 
 of her. My last view of her was the picture I 
 carried in my mind for years. Pity is the heart's 
 photographer par excellence. 
 
 " Suzel was dozing in the lower hall, but my 
 footsteps on the stairs, light as they were, aroused 
 her. Suzel is a sort of cat. I gave her instruc- 
 tions and sent her to 'Toinette. I hurried into my 
 room and in an incredibly short time had dressed 
 for the street and left the house. 
 
 14 There was the faint, uncertain grey of the false 
 dawn, and the market-women were beginning to 
 trundle along with their barrows of garden prod- 
 uce. But there was not a cab in sight. I had 
 walked half the distance to General de Fran- 
 cault's house before I came upon a cab, with the 
 coachman sleeping inside. I shook him up and 
 engaged him by the hour. We drove to the Gen- 
 eral's. I had defined my plan of action. Arrived 
 at the number, I rang the bell. After I had re-
 
 IO2 
 
 peated the performance several times, the great 
 door was opened a few inches and the concierge 
 demanded to know what was wanted. 
 
 "'Are you M. Borel?' 
 
 " ' Yes. What does it matter? ' 
 
 " * Gaspard Borel, formerly bank messenger? * 
 
 " * If I am, what is that to you? I am mes- 
 senger no longer.' 
 
 " He offered to close the door, but I prevented 
 him. 
 
 " ' I am M. Levignet, formerly of the prefec- 
 ture.' 
 
 " The chain rattled and the door was opened to 
 me. So much for having cleared an honest old 
 fellow from the consequences of a police stupidity 
 that had threatened him with a term of penal 
 servitude. He was at my service for any respect- 
 able enterprise. I stated my pre-arranged case. 
 
 " ' Last evening, M. Borel, I had the good luck 
 to return to Mademoiselle Beaudais a valuable ring 
 that had been stolen from her. The company in 
 the salon had fatigued her, and she made the ring 
 an excuse for retiring to her room for a little while. 
 As she was going up the stairs, a servant handed 
 her a note. It was from Madame Clifton, who is 
 ill, M. Borel. Mademoiselle changed her dress 
 and slipped out to pay a benevolent visit to her 
 friend. As she alighted from the cab at Madame 
 Clifton's door, I chanced to be passing. Ma-
 
 Marcel Levignet 103 
 
 demoiselle did me the honour to recognise me, 
 and offered again to thank me for the recovery of 
 the ring. Suddenly she recollected that she had 
 dropped the ring on to her dressing-table when 
 about to change her dress, and, in her haste, for- 
 got it. She was much distressed and was re-enter- 
 ing the cab to return for it for, though she, of 
 course, distrusts none of her uncle's servants * 
 
 " ' I understand, monsieur,' M. Borel sensibly 
 interposed as I hesitated diplomatically. 
 
 " ' I undertook to come in her stead and request 
 your wife to get the ring for me that I might de- 
 liver it to Mademoiselle. Eh, well, M. Borel, I 
 have had affairs the matter slipped my mind. I 
 had arrived home when it recurred to me. So I 
 come at this untimely hour for should I wait un- 
 til the household is stirring ' 
 
 " * I understand, monsieur,' the good fellow said 
 again, to spare me the completion of an equivocal 
 sentence. 
 
 " ' Could Mme. Borel gain access to the room of 
 Mademoiselle without disturbing anyone in the 
 house ? ' There would be no difficulty. Madame 
 Borel, was, in fact, femme de menage and had free 
 range of the house. - Mme. Borel was called. 
 She was round-faced, good-humoured, complaisant. 
 She used to dance at the Bal Bullier and liked a 
 touch of adventure. I suggested, with a familiar 
 finger-thrust among M. Borel's well-covered ribs,
 
 104 Marcel Levignet 
 
 that it might add piquancy to the quest if I accom- 
 panied Madame. They both laughed appre- 
 ciatively and Madame bade me ' come along then ' ; 
 I followed her to the third floor, and entered 
 'Toinette's room. 
 
 " Perhaps, my dear Summerville, you have 
 never crossed the threshold into the sacred room 
 of the woman whose charm has filled your soul 
 with a mysterious Umph! Pardon me. 
 
 " I took the ring from my pocket as I entered 
 the room, and in pretending to search for it among 
 the magnetic trifles and trinkets of the dressing- 
 table, I easily secured possession of the letter lying 
 there, without Mme. Borel being any the wiser. 
 Then, holding the ring to view, I thanked her, 
 slipped a twenty-franc piece into her hand and pro- 
 posed that our burglarious enterprise be kept un- 
 known to the family and servants; to which she 
 readily agreed, but laughingly intimated that M. 
 Borel also had a tongue wide enough to hold a 
 yellow coin. 
 
 " My purpose accomplished, I returned to my 
 cab and drove home. 
 
 " I had not been gone above an hour and a 
 half, but it was an hour and a half too long. Suzel 
 met me at th'e door, her face ashen with fear. 
 * Mademoiselle is gone.' 
 
 " There was a small balcony off the room into 
 which Suzel had led 'Toinette to sleep. Below
 
 Marcel Levignet 105 
 
 the balcony a few feet, is the flat roof of a low 
 building that had been a carriage house in the days 
 of the former proprietor. From the roof to the 
 ground is a drop of no more than twelve feet. 
 Beyond is the garden. The street wall of the gar- 
 den is fairly high, but 'Toinette proved that it is 
 not insurmountable. For the first time in my life 
 I felt beaten. To be beaten is to be humiliated. 
 To be humiliated is oppressive. One may be par- 
 doned for sinking into a chair and hiding the 
 chagrin in his face with his hands. I remembered 
 how black the river ran as I saw it in the grey dawn 
 an hour before. I remembered the troubled smile 
 on 'Toinette's lips as I took leave of her. Fool, 
 not to have told her my mission ! 
 
 " Suzel pulled me by the sleeve. 
 
 " ' There is a scrap of writing, monsieur. Per- 
 haps ' 
 
 " I snatched it from her hand a little folded 
 slip torn from a writing-pad on the bedroom table. 
 Three lines only. 'I go, monsieur; but have no 
 fear. I shall do no harm to myself. I shall live. 
 But now that my uncle knows, I dare not go back 
 to him. Let him think that the river has washed 
 away the disgrace. Adieu, my benefactor.' 
 
 " I never saw 'Toinette again, until she came 
 into the cafe and sat at the table there to-night ! Do 
 you wonder that my pulses went up, and that I 
 spoke too loud ? It was only last week that I heard
 
 106 Marcel Levignet 
 
 of the marriage of the Baron de Noel to a lady in 
 England, but I was not curious. I asked no ques- 
 tions, and I do not read my paper it is trying 
 enough to write for it so I did not learn the lady's 
 name. It was something more than surprising, 
 then, to see Toinette on his arm." 
 
 " You do not think there is any doubt," I said 
 hesitatingly, " that ' Toinette is really the lady 
 whom the Baron married? " 
 
 Levignet's cheeks flushed and an unpleasant ex- 
 pression came into his eyes. I felt that I had made 
 a mistake in putting into words my not wholly un- 
 reasonable surmise. 
 
 " Of course," I hastened to add, " the chance is 
 that you are right; but, you will admit, the fact 
 that a lady and gentleman enter a cafe together 
 does not necessarily " 
 
 Levignet interrupted by giving the floor a vigor- 
 ous thump with the heavy walking-stick he had not 
 surrendered. 
 
 " You challenge my friendship, M. Summer- 
 ville!" 
 
 " Then, in the name of friendship, pardon my 
 folly, dear Levignet ! " 
 
 He looked at me a moment, then thrust his hand 
 toward me. 
 
 " You have seen the Baroness de Noel," he said 
 emphatically.
 
 Marcel Levignet 107 
 
 " And envied the Baron, my dear Levignet," I 
 answered submissively. 
 
 We clasped hands, and a smile played under the 
 arch of his moustache, a sunny, forgiving smile. 
 
 " M'sieu' , s'vous 'plait." 
 
 It was the waiter, tendering the " addition." 
 
 Levignet glanced up, and looked with surprise 
 about the deserted room. We were the only 
 guests, and the doors were closed. 
 
 " Mon Dieu! Si tard?" demanded Levignet 
 of the waiter. 
 
 "Mais oui, m'sieu' !" the waiter answered with 
 a shrug anything but indulgent. " C'est bien tard, 
 vous pouves voir. On ferme a tine heure. Main- 
 tenant il est " 
 
 "Eh, bien! Prenez." 
 
 Levignet paid the bill, and we went into the 
 street.
 
 XIII 
 
 I DO not know how 'Toinette explained her 
 resurrection to General de Francault and his 
 family; but I do know that, as the Baroness 
 de Noel, she became one of the celebrities of so- 
 cial Paris. The paragraphers never wearied of 
 fashioning verbal arabesques to which they could 
 fit her name. She was the leader of one set and 
 the luminary of another; the foundress of this 
 charity, the patroness of that; her box at the 
 Opera or at the Comedie divided honours with the 
 stage; public fete or private reception owed some- 
 thing of its success to her presence; no woman at 
 the Grand Prix was more simply dressed no other 
 woman was so much observed. The 'Toinette of 
 old was the unfolding rose; the Baroness de Noel 
 was the flower in perfect bloom. And Levignet 
 hovered here and there and everywhere to catch 
 a glimpse of its beauty, to breathe in the fragrance 
 of its perfume. 
 
 I met him once briskly, airily traversing the 
 principal walk of the Tuileries Gardens, humming 
 the tag-end of the latest gay song of a popular 
 chanteuse. He had just come from dining with 
 'Toinette and the Baron. He locked arms with 
 
 108
 
 Marcel Levignet 109 
 
 me as blithely as a schoolboy headed for sport. 
 Nothing would do for it but that we should climb 
 into an open voiture and be driven somewhere away 
 from the rattle of the pavement, the noise of the 
 city. 
 
 We took the road to Versailles, Levignet bidding 
 the driver to keep straight ahead and go on and on 
 " to the end of the world if I do not bid you 
 stop ! " How he talked and babbled and de- 
 claimed! Nothing of melancholy in his mood or 
 manner now. The old sobriquet had lost its sig- 
 nificance. Jacques had been transformed into 
 Touchstone with all his lightness and none of his 
 satire. 
 
 Of course 'Toinette was his theme 'Toinette in 
 all the superlatives 'Toinette as the ideal of 
 women the paragon of sex. What wonder, since 
 on both his cheeks he still felt the good-night kiss 
 'Toinette had bestowed on " her benefactor." 
 
 He ran over the outlines of her life between 
 the morning in which she had fled from his house 
 and the night, five years later, when she re-appeared 
 to his view under the lights of the Cafe Riche. 
 
 She had returned to Marseilles and had gone to 
 the little farm some miles away where a relative 
 of her mother's lived as a sort of Donna Perfecta, 
 ruling the village clergy and the peasants under her 
 with equal hand. Madame Delphine received her 
 young cousin very gladly, for her mother's sake,
 
 1 10 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Madame Delphine and Madame Beaudais having 
 been affectionate friends in the years of their un- 
 married companionship, and the rural heart cher- 
 ishes friendly sentiments even unto the second and 
 third generations. 
 
 But there was a militant element in the piety 
 of Madame Delphine, and she was not tolerant of 
 mere passivity in religion. It was not enough for 
 her that one believed; one must demonstrate belief 
 in practice. Fasting and prayer and confession 
 were, in her opinion, the mere rudimentary com- 
 monplaces of religious fidelity, the simple incidents 
 of formal conduct. The essential thing was self- 
 crucifixion, after the manner of the saints; and to 
 her mind the model of devotion was St. Francis 
 of Assisi, whom she had chosen as her patron. 
 Therefore, she earnestly counselled 'Toinette to 
 put away all vanities of the flesh; to renounce the 
 ease which the inheritance from Madame Beau- 
 dais allowed her, and to bend her mind zealously 
 and jealously to a life of self-denial and good 
 works. 
 
 For a time, the course defined for her by* 
 Madame Delphine seemed to 'Toinette precisely 
 the mental and moral corrective she required. She 
 entered, with a kind of desperate enthusiasm, into 
 the plan of renunciation, and put on serge literally 
 and spiritually. She made a virtue of domestic 
 drudgery, and cheerfully turned over her quarterly
 
 Marcel Levignet in 
 
 revenues to the simple and kindly cure who came 
 and went as Madame Delphine decreed. 'Toin- 
 ette's great beauty sorely troubled Madame Del- 
 phine. It reminded her always of certain of the 
 temptations that had beset St. Francis; and she 
 feared the cure might find it a vexation to the seren- 
 ity of his meditations. She recommended to 'Toin- 
 ette a peasant bonnet that concealed the glory of 
 her hair and hid the shining plane of her fore- 
 head. The effect was not entirely satisfactory. 
 Eyes and lips and teeth like 'Toinette's were not to 
 be abashed by the impertinences of a coarse cotton 
 bonnet. 
 
 " Alas, child ! You are hardly the better for it. 
 Pity you are not like Irma there I " 
 
 Irma was a buxom wench helping the shearers 
 with the sheep. She was still young, and gossip 
 used to credit her with tendencies somewhat the 
 reverse of austere ; but two winters ago the pest had 
 surprised her in Marseilles. When she saw the re- 
 flection of her pitted face in the hand-mirror, she 
 dashed the glass to the floor and wept, kneeling 
 among the fragments. But, drying her eyes after 
 a time, she raised her head and laughed, slapping 
 her hands against her cheeks till the pale hollows 
 glowed. " All right ! I can be good now. I can 
 tempt no one and no one will care to tempt me." 
 
 " And Irma has been beyond reproach these two 
 years," said Mme. Delphine, rehearsing the story
 
 ii2 Marcel Levignet 
 
 to 'Toinette; " but the chastisement of heaven was 
 necessary to her reformation. Ah, child, it is the 
 Devil sends beauty into the world for the ruin of 
 our souls. Pray the good Lord to remove from 
 you the evil fruits of the curse laid on you." 
 
 This charitable wish and the spectacle of the 
 sheep-shearing inspired Madame Delphine. 
 
 " Why not, Antoinette, have one of the shearers 
 cut that mass of vanity from your head? Your 
 face would not seem so vicious but for those glisten- 
 ing heaps of black hair! Shall I bid Jean come 
 with his shears? " 
 
 "As you please, Cousin Delphine. It matters 
 nothing to me." 
 
 Jean was called, and came with his shears, to 
 which clung particles of wool from the shearing. 
 
 'Toinette took off her cotton bonnet, and loosed 
 the coils of her hair, which slid down over her 
 shoulders and far below her waist, enfolding her 
 like a mantle. 
 
 " Cut that away, Jean," Madame Delphine com- 
 manded, as if she were ordering the removal of a 
 profaning weed from the bed in which she grew 
 her votive lilies, reared with holy care to deck the 
 church altar on Easter morning. 
 
 Jean advanced a step. 
 
 " Cut that away, Madame Delphine? " 
 
 " Entirely." 
 
 Jean put out his hand and respectfully lifted a
 
 Marcel Levignet 113 
 
 quantity of the massy hair, letting it slide strand by 
 strand from his fingers, shaking his head. 
 
 " I could almost as easily cut away the white 
 crown of my mother's head, madame. I may 
 shear sheep, for their wool is a blessing to man, of 
 which the sheep are glad to be rid. But when God 
 puts such a marvel as this on a woman's head, it 
 is not for Jean Copan to court damnation by shear- 
 ing it away." 
 
 " Do as I bid you," said Madame Delphine, in 
 the even manner of one accustomed to prompt 
 obedience. " The blame of it be on my soul, not 
 on yours." 
 
 " Do as Madame commands you, Jean. I con- 
 sent," 'Toinette said, smiling to reassure him. 
 
 " No. I have killed a Prussian and not minded 
 it; but I have never marred God's handiwork. 
 Look; our cure is coming down the path. Let 
 him say." 
 
 " Hide your hair at once, Antoinette ! " Madame 
 Delphine whispered in consternation. " Father 
 Berthold is a holy man, but I do not know that it 
 is the Lord's will to make a saint of him." 
 
 'Toinette went into the house to coil her scandal- 
 ous hair in place under the ban of the cotton bon- 
 net, as Madame Delphine, ordering Jean to go 
 about his business, prepared to receive the cure.
 
 XIV 
 
 ?rTT^ DINETTE found that she had been 
 amused by the petty incident. She 
 -* laughed over the droll puritanism of her 
 cousin and the aesthetic piety of Jean. And the 
 laughter stirred dormant fancies into activity. The 
 absurdity of the dull, narrow life to which she had 
 committed herself began to play with her sense of 
 humour. She had had a horror of the very idea 
 of a prison, and the cloister had always seemed but 
 little preferable to a prison; yet here she was, 
 voluntarily, as she had thought gratefully, shut in 
 by surroundings, constrained by conditions more 
 sterilising, more obliterating than either the prison 
 or the cloister, so much more barren than either 
 was the church-sustaining farm that skirted a ham- 
 let of dead-alive peasants. 
 
 Her first resolution was not to part with her 
 hair even to spare the susceptibilities of the cure. 
 And if her hair were something to guard, was not 
 her life something to foster? Since she consented 
 to live at all, would it not be well to live with the 
 widest possible horizon ? She revolved the problem 
 in her mind through the summer peace and the 
 autumnal mildness, and when the trees were scarlet 
 on the hillside and the presses were crushing out 
 the juices of the grape, she kissed the dry cheek of 
 
 114
 
 Marcel Levignet 115 
 
 Madame Delphine and said good-bye, going, as 
 the good lady feared, to reap the harvest of the 
 seven deadly sins. 
 
 Her purpose was not quite so radical, however. 
 She had been in correspondence for some weeks 
 with Madame Charpentier, the wife of the French 
 Consul in London, a family friend of the Beaudais 
 before political distinction had blown down from 
 Paris upon her husband. Madame Charpentier 
 was more than willing to strengthen her social lev- 
 erage in the British capital by the companionship 
 of a girl as young and beautiful as 'Toinette, and 
 was urgent in the invitation to her dear young 
 friend to come for a visit " to continue as long as 
 you find us agreeable." 
 
 It was in acceptance of this invitation that 'Toin- 
 ette quitted her cousin, after giving to Jean Copan 
 a purse of gold pieces, with the recommendation 
 that he take counsel of Irma how to save or spend 
 them. 
 
 " Ten francs for every hole in her face ! " Jean 
 exclaimed joyously, as he weighed the golden 
 hoard in his large hand. " I would have done it 
 for a quarter of the money, ma'mselle. There are 
 girls with better faces who are worse than Irma to 
 come into a Irian's house ; that I know well enough. 
 Foul meat is made good by going through the fire. 
 It shall not be my fault if Irma is not Madame 
 Copan before the next church fete."
 
 n6 Marcel Levignet 
 
 'Toinette, though assured by Madame Charpen- 
 tier that London is London only in the late spring 
 and cool summer, entered gratefully into the con- 
 genial distractions of the new life. Before the 
 term of weeks to which she had insistently limited 
 her visit had come to an end, she felt a keen inter- 
 est in the people who seemed to have a kindly feel- 
 ing for her. The English were not as impossible 
 as she had imagined them to be. They thawed 
 agreeably under her smiles. British insularism 
 loses something of its awkward frigidity under the 
 spell of feminine charms like those of Mademoiselle 
 Beaudais, and 'Toinette's influence was not long 
 confined to the consular sphere. Some yearnings 
 there were for the soil and sun of France, but her 
 self-imposed exile was not without its compensa- 
 tions, and she very readily compromised with 
 Madame Charpentier to prolong her stay indefi- 
 nitely as a " paying guest," inasmuch as she refused 
 to accept hospitality on less independent terms. 
 Expeditions into the country, weeks at Brighton 
 and other sea-coast places, a week here and there 
 in quaint towns and hamlets, gave 'Toinette new 
 and delightful impressions of " les anglais" and 
 corrected some of the faults of prejudice. The 
 unaccustomed conditions, the social activities helped 
 her to a readjustment of her moral balance and she 
 began once more to experience that joie de vivre 
 which seemed to have abandoned her.
 
 IT was not until a change of ministry brought 
 the Baron de Noel to London as Naval 
 Attache of the French Embassy, that 'Toin- 
 ette was troubled with doubt of her wisdom in 
 leaving the self-effacing, routine dulness of 
 Madame Delphine's farm. The young diplomat 
 made her painfully self-conscious through the 
 quickening of an emotion of which she thought 
 her heart no longer capable. They met at one of 
 the Embassy receptions, and it required no great 
 intelligence to divine the spring of the Baron's at- 
 tentions during the evening, nor to interpret his 
 motive in begging the privilege of calling on 
 Madame Charpentier. The Baron became assidu- 
 ous in his attentions, and 'Toinette shrank from the 
 consciousness that they became more and more wel- 
 come to her. 
 
 Madame Charpentier, who was enchanted with 
 the prospects of a match which she thought highly 
 advantageous to both contracting parties, bubbled 
 with satisfaction in her officious encouragement of 
 the intimacy. 'Toinette grew morbid in the pro- 
 portion of her increasing regard for the Baron. 
 She was tormented by the persistent thought that it 
 
 117
 
 us Marcel Levignet 
 
 was her necessity to terminate a friendship that 
 must yield only Dead Sea fruit in the sequel. It 
 was not in her nature to marry an honourable man 
 who sought her in ignorance of what she had been 
 and done; and the idea of confessing herself to the 
 Baron was revolting. She could not nerve herself 
 to a decisive step, however, and, though she man- 
 aged to prevent the Baron making an open avowal 
 of his sentiments, she could not deny herself the 
 bitter happiness of receiving him in the company of 
 Madame Charpentier. 
 
 Baron de Noel was not a man of inexhaustible 
 patience, and the time came when he determined to 
 know the result of his sentimental diplomacy. He 
 sent a carefully worded note from his hotel to in- 
 form Mademoiselle Beaudais that he should do 
 himself the honour to call that evening with the 
 purpose to have her answer to a question which 
 involved the happiness and well-being of his future, 
 personal and professional. 'Toinette was over- 
 whelmed, though she had lived in daily anticipa- 
 tion of the inevitable overture. The conflict of her 
 emotions made her powerless to decide promptly 
 on her course of action, though she had clearly 
 arranged what to do in a hundred deliberate sur- 
 veys of her situation. The temptation to accept the 
 Baron and trust to fate for the happy issue strove 
 hard to beat down her moral attitude and her sense 
 of what was due to the man. Battling with her-
 
 Marcel Levignet 119 
 
 self, clinging to the passion of life while attempt- 
 ing to compromise with conscience, she flung herself 
 down by her bed and buried her face in the pillow. 
 
 Madame Charpentier came into the room and, 
 fearing that she had intruded upon the prayerful 
 devotions of her kneeling friend, was about to 
 retire discreetly, when a smothered sob corrected 
 her impression. In an instant the sympathetic lady 
 was down on her knees, with her arm consolingly 
 about the dear 'Toinette. 
 
 What was the matter? 
 
 'Toinette, without lifting her head handed the 
 Baron's note to Madame. 
 
 "What! a proposal 1 And you weep in the 
 joy of it! I understand; though I did not weep 
 when Adolphe had the good sense to choose me ! 
 I laughed in his face when they brought me in to 
 present him. I advise you to do the same. If you 
 begin in tears, you are like to go on in tears. 
 Never let a man think he has dominion over you. 
 They make very good friends, but they are abomi- 
 nable masters. Start as you would continue. He 
 must think your acceptance a grace, a condescen- 
 sion. You marry him not because there are no 
 other men that please you, but because he suits your 
 convenience. Preserve your superiority; that is 
 the way to ensure his devotion. And he is coming 
 this evening; rise, my sweet 'Toinette! I must 
 embrace you."
 
 V 
 120 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " Yes, embrace me," said 'Toinette, rising, " that 
 our tears may mingle, for I shall not marry him." 
 
 " Not marry him ! " cried Madame Charpentier, 
 aghast. " Not marry so desirable a parti 1 When 
 I know that you love him to distraction! .What 
 nonsense is this? " 
 
 " I cannot marry him." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I shall never marry anyone." 
 
 " Ah ! I know what that means. You will be 
 a Baroness before the year ends. You are 
 coquette, my dear. I see you know how to man- 
 age. It is well to keep them on tenterhooks. 
 It destroys their absurd self-confidence. An ex- 
 cellent precaution. Yes; we shall put him off to- 
 night; to-morrow he will be the more ardent." 
 
 " I shall see him to-night for the last time. I 
 shall quit London to-morrow." 
 
 "As if he would not follow you ! Why, he is 
 mad for you. He will have you whether you will 
 or no. Where will you go ? " 
 
 " Where he cannot find me." 
 
 " How ridiculous ! As if it were possible to 
 hide a face like yours from the eyes of a man in 
 love with it. He would find you in Tophet." 
 
 " He will not seek me." 
 
 "Not seek you I What can prevent hirn?" 
 
 " What I have to tell him." 
 
 "What is that?"
 
 Marcel Levignet 121 
 
 " I cannot tell you." 
 
 "Another man?" 
 
 "No. I love de Noel." 
 
 Madame Charpentier, throwing off her momen- 
 tary apprehension, laughed merrily. 
 
 " You will, perhaps, tell him that? " 
 
 "Yes; I shall tell him that." 
 
 " And after that he will fling out of the room in 
 a rage and swear a great oath never to see you 
 again ! " 
 
 Madame Charpentier laughed afresh over her 
 fancy, and pulled at 'Toinette's ear, styling her 
 " my little cabbage," and like oddities of French 
 endearment, and, taking no further account of the 
 mood she misunderstood, bustled out of the room 
 to order in flowers for the evening.
 
 XVI 
 
 THE Baron arrived promptly at the ap- 
 pointed time, and had a half-hour of 
 cheerfully preparatory conversation with 
 Madame Charpentier before 'Toinette came in. 
 
 " I do not say that 'Toinette will have you," 
 Madame Charpentier had declared, with an arch 
 glance meant to contradict her words. " But as 
 she has neither parents nor near relatives to stand 
 between you, you are not fit for the career you 
 have mapped out for yourself if you do not per- 
 suade her to your way of thinking." 
 
 'Toinette was long in coming, and when she en- 
 tered the room there was an expression in her pale 
 face that troubled the Baron. 
 
 " You are prepared for my visit, Mademoi- 
 selle?" he said half enquiringly, after greeting 
 her. 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, I am prepared to give you my 
 answer, if " looking significantly at Madame 
 Charpentier " if I may speak with you alone." 
 
 " It isn't proper," said Madame Charpentier, 
 smilingly, as she moved toward the door. " It 
 violates all the conventions but as we are in Eng- 
 land I suppose it does not matter; everything is so 
 
 122
 
 Marcel Levignet 123 
 
 original here. I hope, however, that you will not 
 forget me altogether. You will call me in again, 
 will you not? " 
 
 She went out good-humouredly, taking the 
 affirmation for granted. 
 
 'Toinette allowed herself no time for faltering. 
 She had nerved herself for an ordeal, and she has- 
 tened to enter upon it. She took the chair the 
 Baron moved into place for her and, sitting with 
 her hands clasped, as if she drew strength from 
 their tight pressure, she began abruptly and hurried 
 on unmindful of the Baron's interruptions. 
 
 " You wish me to be your wife. I cannot. It 
 is not because I do not love you, for I do. I love 
 you with all my soul. If I were the woman you 
 think I am, I should be proud of the honour, grate- 
 ful for the happiness of putting my hand in yours 
 and giving myself to you utterly. But if you were 
 to clasp my hand in that way, you would feel the 
 burn of the scar in my palm. Look. Does it tell 
 you anything. Does it tell you that it is a brand 
 of Cain? Can you read in it the story of an 
 assassin? " 
 
 De Noel recoiled a little and stared at her dum- 
 foundedly. She drew back her hand and clenched 
 it with the other, and went on with her confession. 
 She plunged into the history of the liaison with 
 " M. Martin," speaking more impetuously, more 
 feverishly as she progressed, fearing that her pur-
 
 124 Marcel Levignet 
 
 pose might give way before she should come to the 
 final horror that was to close this man's heart 
 against her, quite emptied of its love. She made 
 no excuses for herself; she offered no extenuating 
 plea, but recounted the incidents and circumstances 
 with the desperate frankness of one already hope- 
 lessly condemned. Sometimes emotion got the bet- 
 ter of her in spite of herself, but she only faltered. 
 There were no tears, no breakdown. 
 
 De Noel listened eagerly, silently. The expres- 
 sion of dismay which her first words produced wore 
 away as the story unfolded, and the flush of sup- 
 pressed excitement came into his cheeks and 
 sparkled in his eyes as she told of the pretended 
 marriage, the clandestine life in Paris, the altera- 
 tion in " M. Martin," the awakening doubts and 
 anxieties in her own mind. And when she came 
 to the evening in which she made the discovery that 
 " M. Martin " was, in truth, Judge Chartier, and 
 repeated the cynical speech with which Chartier had 
 mocked her shame and humiliation, de Noel struck 
 the arm of his chair a violent blow as he rose to his 
 feet, exclaiming vehemently : 
 
 1 You should have killed him 1 You should 
 have killed the scoundrel ! " 
 
 " Would to God I had not ! " moaned 'Toinette. 
 " I had no thought of doing it ! It happened ! It 
 was not in my mind, the good God knows! But 
 he came toward me. He caught me in his arms and
 
 Marcel Levignet 125 
 
 crushed me against him. The terror of it filled me. 
 I thought I was putting out my hands to repel him, 
 to thrust him from me! I do not know how it 
 came about, but presently I saw him lying at my 
 feet, so still that I forgot myself in a great fear, 
 and fell upon my knees to rouse him to life again. 
 It is all clear to me now, but then it was as if my 
 mind had gone from me. I only knew that I had 
 killed him, and the dread of it took hold of me, 
 and I fled." 
 
 "But you are free from it now!" interrupted 
 de Noel. " All the infamy of it is buried in the 
 grave with him. No danger threatens you now 
 from which I will not defend you. Give me that 
 right. You are blameless, a martyr in my eyes. 
 Be my wife, my honoured wife, and I will guard 
 you. If I loved you before, I reverence you now. 
 You shall be my wife! " 
 
 " No," said Toinette. " You pity me. You 
 are a man above all others, and it is your chivalry, 
 your compassion, that speaks. There would come 
 a time when your reason would speak, and 
 then " 
 
 " It is my reason speaks now, 'Toinette my 
 reason and my heart in one. I know myself I 
 know you. I love you. We are two against all 
 the world. The secret which we will guard to- 
 gether shall be a holy bond between us. I share 
 it with you. It magnifies your worth in my eyes.
 
 126 Marcel Levignet 
 
 It makes you sacred in my esteem. Put your hand 
 in mine. I choose you from among other women. 
 My life shall be one of devotion to you. We will 
 put the past out of our remembrance. It shall 
 be a thing utterly forgotten; even the ghost of it 
 shall not trouble us, for there is no one can turn 
 the shadow of it upon our lives." 
 
 " Yes ; there are two besides you who know my 
 story." And she told him of Levignet and 
 Madame Clifton. 
 
 " This M. Levignet is your friend, and the 
 woman dare not be your enemy. Come. I claim 
 the right to stand beside you I beg my happiness 
 at your hands. Be generous to me. Consider. 
 If nothing is to trouble the serenity of your life, 
 why should not the man you confess to loving 
 share that peace and tranquillity with you? If 
 there are perils in your way, who may better shield 
 you from them or confront them with you than the 
 man who loves and honours you? Come what 
 may, you are part and parcel of my life, or life is 
 nothing to me. If you do not wish to wrong us 
 both, if you do not wish to sacrifice the possibilities 
 open to us both, be my wife. I hold out my hand 
 to you to help you and be helped ; trust your hand 
 to its clasp. I love you. I love you." 
 
 'Toinette, unprepared for this result of her con- 
 fession, had given way to feeling, and the tears 
 were falling between the fingers of her hands as she
 
 Marcel Levignet 127 
 
 leaned forward hiding her face in them. De Noel 
 raised her head and took her hands in his, lifting 
 them to his lips and kissing them. She made no 
 resistance, and he seemed even to feel an answering 
 pressure as he held her hands tremulous in his 
 own. 
 
 " Let love lead us, 'Toinette. Consent." 
 
 " I dare not, for your sake. It would be the 
 saddest of mistakes." 
 
 " It would be the wisest thing possible. It 
 would give purpose to both our lives." 
 
 " You are tempting me to your ruin." 
 
 " I am persuading you to befriend me." 
 
 " If I should believe you and some time in a mad 
 moment, this cry which I always hear in my soul, 
 should rush to my lips and I should obey the im- 
 pulse to run to the magistracy and call out to them 
 * Judge Chartier did not die as you think I I am 
 his assassin ! It was I who killed him 1 Take me 1 
 Do to me what you will ' ? " 
 
 " I would be by your side." 
 
 ' To suffer shame with me. To be dishon- 
 oured! To be dragged to prison for hiding my 
 crime 1 " 
 
 "No; to vindicate you before the law and the 
 world ; to shelter you in my arms ; to bear you home 
 again, exonerated." 
 
 u You think that now, because you are here with 
 me and you pity me. But when you have left me;
 
 128 Marcel Levignet 
 
 when you have thought calmly, you will know that 
 I am right that it is impossible." 
 
 " Try me." 
 
 " No ; for you are a man to hold to your word 
 against your convictions. You would keep faith 
 to your own sacrifice." 
 
 " Oh, you shall not cheat yourself and me with 
 such reasoning. We are not children. You have 
 drunk wisdom from bitterness ; I have not travelled 
 blindfold through the world. We know our own 
 minds. Let us shape our lives by the knowledge 
 that is in us, without concern for the world about 
 / us the world that is only a mockery and an illu- 
 sion if love be counted out. Trust me. I do not 
 love you for to-day and to-morrow; I have taken 
 you into my heart forever. You are mine; I will 
 have you." 
 
 She had risen, and was going toward the door, 
 afraid of his persuasion and murmuring her fears, 
 but he put his arm about her, detaining her. 
 
 " I will not let you go," he insisted; and when 
 she tried, but in a half submissive way, to release 
 herself, he bent his head and kissed her on the lips. 
 It was an act of subjugation. She yielded herself, 
 and clasped her arms about his neck, sighing a re- 
 proach that he took from her the strength of right- 
 doing. 
 
 But the surrender was not unconditional. She 
 held to the determination that he should consider
 
 Marcel Levignet 129 
 
 the matter free from the influence of her presence. 
 She would go away. He should not see her until 
 time enough had passed to allow of his calm judg- 
 ment of all the possible consequences of their union. 
 He should not bind himself to her under the con- 
 trol of an infatuation that might embitter his life 
 with shameful regrets. -She was firm against his 
 protestations. She would have her way, for his 
 sake; and, unable to change her resolution, he un- 
 willingly acquiesced in her plan. 
 
 She was to go away from him for a year, during 
 which time there was to be no communication be- 
 tween them, and he should not know where she had 
 gone. At the year's end she would write to him, 
 but only to send her address. If he came for her, 
 she would be his wife. If he did not come, she 
 would know that he had made the wiser decision. 
 
 " I have made the wise decision already," said 
 de Noel. " One year or ten will not change my 
 mind. I agree to what you propose only because 
 you will have it so. For myself, I am sacrificing 
 to a vain scruple a year of happiness that I shall 
 always regret."
 
 XVII 
 
 'rnp^OINETTE went back to the mental 
 aridness of Madame Delphine's little 
 -- domain. She went courageously, in the 
 belief that she was shutting herself in forever from 
 the great world; that her life thenceforth was to 
 be one of adaptation to the lean piety of shrivelled 
 minds that imagined they did God's will in closing 
 their eyes to the sweetness and loveliness of His 
 creation. She schooled herself to meet what she 
 thought to be the inevitable outcome of this 
 probation. 
 
 With the inconsistency of the emotion that hun- 
 gers for what it does not hope to receive, she con- 
 vinced herself that de Noel's consent to the separa- 
 tion upon which she had insisted was prophetic of 
 his final decision. Had he indeed loved her, she 
 argued piteously fearful, he would not have let her 
 go under such hard conditions! How could his 
 suddenly conceived passion for her endure through 
 a year's silent impoverishment? Hers was a 
 woman's love, the very sum and essence of her life ; 
 his love was but the temporary pause of a man's 
 wayward fancy. She would remember and hunger 
 on unsatisfied till the stars were old and dim in the 
 heavens. He would dream idly of a phantasm 
 and wake to a new reality. It was the way of men. 
 
 130
 
 Marcel Levignet 131 
 
 Knowing the fashion of life, one could but shape 
 one's self to the pattern. When the shell is empty 
 on the sea-shore, it may only echo the murmur of 
 the waves that toss or cradle it, or come to rest 
 under the gathering sands that choke its emptiness 
 and hush its murmurings. That was to be her 
 fate; only, the sands beneath which Madame 
 Delphine, and the fatuous good cure, and Jean 
 with his wife Irma, and now 'Toinette herself, 
 were being stifled were the dry drifts blown from 
 the hollows of a sucked-up and vanished sea. 
 
 Women are fantastic logicians; otherwise it 
 would be incomprehensible that 'Toinette, eating 
 her heart out with longing, still faltered and bar- 
 gained with de Noel when he came post haste 
 down to her at the year's end and demanded the 
 fulfilment of her promise. She revoked her prom- 
 ise on the feminine ground that she had not be- 
 lieved that he would ever call upon her to redeem 
 it! Her arguments in support of her position 
 were none the less determined for his exposition of 
 their fatuity. In the slow-dragging months she 
 had convinced herself that his love was the fever 
 of an hour. She had got so used, she said, to the 
 idea that his better judgment would close his heart 
 against her, that his coming had found her un- 
 ready! She had gone over the ground so many 
 times to the one conclusion that it seemed to her 
 now as if his coming were only an honourably en-
 
 Marcel Levignet 
 
 forced obedience to her summons! She had sent 
 for him I He had come ! Well, the duty of each 
 to the other was done. He knew now where she 
 made her home. He must go from her for another 
 six months or year, and again there must be silence 
 between them. She would not send for him the 
 second time. If he came, it would be voluntarily 
 and then she could believe that mind and heart 
 sanctioned his coming! He pleaded in vain that 
 she would hold by the original compact. She was 
 afraid of him of herself. She dared not yield to 
 him. If he could not wait yet another term it was 
 better for her now to say good-bye ! But de Noel 
 had in him the stuff of a Jacob. Six months or 
 seven years and again seven years he would have 
 waited for the Rachael on whom he had set his af- 
 fection. He entered into the second arrangement as 
 he had entered into the first, certainly not cheer- 
 fully, and decidedly not without objection to the 
 futile waste of time, but with indulgence. After 
 ] all, fasting is the best appetiser, and hope deferred 
 , is the multiplication of love. 
 
 De Noel needed no one to remind him when the 
 six months were up. He marked the procession 
 of the days by his pulse beats; and no doubt 'Toin- 
 ette had an equally delicate chronograph, for, as 
 de Noel climbed the winding hill-path that made a 
 short cut through the wood to Madame Delphine's 
 farmhouse, 'Toinette, her hair free of the cotton
 
 Marcel Levignet 133 
 
 bonnet, and, garnished with a rose, came down the 
 slope to meet him. At this point in his narrative 
 Levignet stopped short with a sigh, snapped his 
 fingers and addressed the cabby. 
 
 " Turn your beast about, and drive back. I had 
 forgotten, my dear Summerville, that I promised 
 a leaderette on to-day's debate. If you don't mind 
 my smoking my cigar in silence, I will have my 
 article all but written before we reach my office. I 
 can dictate it in five minutes, and we will have a 
 look in at Maxime's, if you like." 
 
 " Willingly. But before you immerse yourself 
 in a political editorial, suppose you give me the 
 finishing touch to the story." 
 
 " Finishing touch, Summerville ! Good heavens ! 
 What kind of an imagination have you? Have I 
 not told you that I dined this evening with the 
 Baron and Baroness de Noel? Leave me in peace 
 to compose my leaderette." 
 
 He settled himself into the corner of the victoria 
 and lapsed into a sort of reverie. It was hardly 
 of the editorial character, however, unless editor- 
 ials are fashioned to the humming of Offenbachian 
 numbers. And as we entered the Place de la 
 Concorde, he suddenly roused, and said with can- 
 did good-humour: 
 
 " I have not thought of a word for the paper! 
 To the devil with it! I am not in the writing 
 mood to-night. Cabby, drive to Maxime's."
 
 XVIII 
 
 SOME days later I sailed for America, and 
 it was during the two years of my absence 
 that the Baroness de Noel achieved in Paris 
 the social distinction of which I have spoken. 
 When I returned to the French capital in the first 
 week of that tragically memorable season which 
 bade fair to be one of exceptional gaiety and bril- 
 liance 'Toinette was so much a celebrity that her 
 photographs were scarcely less numerous in the 
 shop windows than those of the premiere danseuse 
 of the opera. It is a fact not generally known or 
 credited, perhaps, that the French surpass almost 
 any other nation in the esteem of virtue. The ap- 
 preciation is, however, rather aesthetic than moral. 
 There is a national, one might say racial, passion 
 with the French for excellence, and it matters not 
 a great deal to them what may be the particular 
 character of the surpassing achievement. As they 
 flatter themselves with confidence in the superiority 
 of their cooks, painters, sculptors, and litterateurs, 
 their milliners, dressmakers, actresses and demi- 
 mondaines, their masters of savoir faire, savoir 
 v'wre, and the numerous savoirs of the civilised 
 man, so they pride themselves on the pre-eminence 
 of their examples of feminine virtue. They 
 
 134
 
 Marcel Levignet 135 
 
 are the only people who offer prizes for vir- 
 tue as they offer prizes for works of art, original 
 inventions, feats of valour, deeds of heroism or 
 humanity, or the output of genius. If a beautiful ' 
 woman availing herself of the immunity from 
 orthodox penalties which society accords to youth 
 and beauty in union chooses to join in the Paphian 
 refinements of the prodigal world, they smilingly 
 acquiesce, acknowledge the rights of the individual, 
 and applaud her according to the measure of her 
 triumph. But if it comes into the head of a beau- 
 tiful woman, with complementary wit and fortune, 
 to shine among the exemplars of blameless conduct, 
 no people on the earth are so ready to pay her 
 grateful homage as the nation too generally mis- 
 judged by its frivolity. 
 
 'Toinette threw all her influence, personal and 
 social, into the moral side of the balances; un- 
 ostentatiously, without prudery or Pharisaism, 
 partly led by that instinctive natural selection by 
 which bee and butterfly alike dip into the honey 
 cups of wholesome flowers and wing past the gaudy 
 blooms that distil poison partly guided by the 
 clear intelligence which measures accurately the 
 short-lived ecstasy of folly. The Cyprian, lolling 
 in her carriage or idling in the promenade of the 
 avenue of the Acacias, gazed upon 'Toinette, as she 
 passed, with that peculiar smile of contempt which 
 belies the shadow in the cheerless eyes where envy
 
 136 Marcel I5evignet 
 
 broods. The grande dame, whose moral basis is 
 the pride bred of a dozen generations of un- 
 smirched womanhood, smiled and bowed in serene 
 approval of this charming baroness who knew so 
 well how to extract pleasure from life without suf- 
 fering soil or stain in the process. In short, 'Toin- 
 ette had tribute honourable to her character from 
 all the social antitheses of the most cosmopolitan 
 of cities. 
 
 Such is the summary of the panegyric Levignet 
 poured into my ears as we sipped our aperitives on 
 a famous cafe terrace in our first reunion. He 
 continued to be a favoured guest at the private 
 table of 'Toinette and de Noel, and regarded him- 
 self as an intimate of the household. Indeed, he 
 fancied he was a sort of tutelary genius to the 
 couple for whose coming together he rightly 
 claimed a great deal of credit, and had got into the 
 way oi speaking of them as his children " mes 
 enfants." By the testimony of his hair and mous- 
 tache he had years enough for the office ; but love, 
 of a mysterious sweetness, had reopened the spring 
 of youth in his heart and the bubbling gladness of 
 it was in his eyes and in his speech. His fifty 
 years were an accident. Under them lay the care- 
 less vigour and joyance of twenty-five. 
 
 1 You have seen 'Toinette but you shall know 
 her," he exclaimed. " I shall arrange for it. I 
 will not have you think I am given to extrava-
 
 Marcel Levignet 137 
 
 gance. I have my enthusiasms, but I harness them 
 with reason. When I was a deputy, they used to 
 say that I was the one man in the Chamber who 
 could speak passionately without losing sight of 
 the logical sequences. When your premises are 
 sound and your conclusions irrefutable, ardour in 
 the exposition is a proper and desirable addition. 
 It is that which quickens receptivity and prepares 
 the mind for conviction. When you know 'Toin- 
 ette you will not reproach me with excess you will 
 pity the poverty of my vocabulary. If you do not 
 begin to write madrigals and lyrics mon Dieu! 
 I shall despise you. Ah! I see that you are 
 thinking of something I remember to have said to 
 you once. It is true, my friend. Why should I 
 deny it? That one flower in my heart's garden 
 has expanded so wonderfully that sometimes I 
 seem about to suffocate with the fragrance of it. 
 I need to open the windows of my soul once in a 
 while to let out a little of its perfume. I should 
 go mad could I not speak freely to someone. You 
 are my safety-valve." 
 
 " And does she not suspect ? " I ventured to ask. 
 
 For answer, he struck a match and extended his 
 arm to hold the flame in a direct ray of the full 
 sunshine. 
 
 " Do you see the blaze of the match ? " he asked. 
 
 " Not very well," I said, catching his meaning; 
 " but I think it has gone out."
 
 138 Marcel Levignet 
 
 He drew back the match, and relighted his cigar 
 with it. He did not offer to explain his allegory, 
 but I was not too dull to understand. 'Toinette 
 was the clear sunshine in which a thousand artificial 
 lights might burn unseen. 
 
 Levignet smoked in silence for a time. Pres- 
 ently he touched my arm. " Look there," he 
 said with a cynical smile. He half pointed to one 
 in the string of carriages on the way to the Bois. 
 " Do you know the lady in blue, with the blonde 
 beauty beside her?" 
 
 "No. Who is it?" 
 
 " Madame Clifton. Is not that face the aegis 
 of all the virtues ? " 
 
 " An excellent counterfeit, at any rate. You 
 have not yet found occasion for your decisive 
 tilt?" 
 
 u I am beginning to despair of it. She is the 
 very devil of artfulness. 1 have odds and ends 
 enough of string to strangle her, but I cannot suc- 
 ceed in tying them together. I have set snares and 
 dug pitfalls by the dozen, any one of them a mas- 
 terpiece of invention for entrapping the ordinary 
 adventuress of her class; but my old confederate, 
 Chance, has refused to serve me thus far, and she 
 is too clever for my unaided wits. An extraordi- 
 nary woman, I assure you. Most extraordinary. 
 My admiration of her is prodigious. I would 
 rather conduct her before the Criminal tribunal
 
 Marcel Levignet 139 
 
 than be myself borne to the filysee Palace as Presi- 
 dent of the Republic. But one eventuality is as 
 probable as the other, I fear. And yet I have an 
 absurd belief that I shall see the tragic end of 
 Madame Clifton's career in Paris. It is a great 
 mistake, however, to suppose that retribution is 
 always on the alert to seize and confound the 
 guilty. Nemesis is as capricious as Fortuna. It 
 is the feminine temperament. The English 
 Shakespeare says that Jove laughs at lovers' per-; 
 juries, and I am not sure that he does not laugh at 
 most of our notions of right and wrong. It is all 
 the same, though. 
 
 " That girl you saw with Madame Clifton just 
 now is Mademoiselle Dupont, whose father made 
 a fortune in leather and quadrupled it in the bank- 
 ing business. The girl is ambitious, but has no 
 social position to start with. Benevolent Madame 
 Clifton becomes her sponsor in baptism into the 
 cult of fashion an honour for which Papa Dupont 
 pays handsomely, you may take oath. In a girl 
 like Mademoiselle Dupont one of vulgar origin 
 and puffed up by the arrogance of riches (you saw 
 the silly pride in her face) in a girl like that, ex- 
 tremes meet. She desires, naturally, to gratify 
 her pride while catering to her ambition; but, nat- 
 urally, again, her ambition is greater than her 
 pride. If she cannot walk into the charmed circle 
 of the hedonists through the great front doors, she
 
 Marcel Levignet 
 
 will be perfectly willing to steal in by the way of 
 the back stairs. She has her preference, presum- 
 ably, of the right hand to the left hand arrange- 
 ment, but is prepared for the alternative. Why 
 do I think so? Because Madame Clifton is al- 
 ready throwing her at the head of a certain degen- 
 erate marquis, who is too much for even the 
 omnivorous stomachs of your title-worshipping 
 American parvenus. But it is not through such 
 creatures as Mademoiselle Dupont that I shall 
 catch the madame napping. No. I shall rather 
 follow the clue of a morsel of paper that fell from 
 her muff at the funeral of my friend Ribault." 
 "Dr. Ribault? He is dead, then? " 
 " Naturally, since we have buried him. He 
 died ages ago. The winter after you left Paris. 
 You had not heard? But he was no longer a 
 celebrity. When one outlives one's usefulness, we 
 quickly forget that he ever had value. Now me- 
 teors and comets are so thick in the heavens now-a- 
 days that we have no eyes even for the fixed stars, 
 to say nothing of the slow-waning fires. There 
 was not much about him in the papers, and prob- 
 ably your correspondents ignored him entirely. 
 Yet it was he, rather than Charcot and the rest of 
 them, who discovered the therapeutic value of 
 hypnotism. I was to dine with Ribault the even- 
 ing he was stricken down a sort of paralysis of 
 the heart, I believe, though I may be wrong.
 
 Marcel Levignet HI 
 
 Thank heaven, I know little or nothing about the 
 human anatomy and its ailments. Whatever he 
 had, it was not dilatory. Poor fellow ; he insisted 
 that I should be brought to him when I came. 
 There was a bevy of doctors about him as I entered 
 the room, and he motioned them away as he beck- 
 oned to me. 
 
 u * I wish to speak with M. Levignet in private,' 
 he said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. 
 
 " ' Ah, my dear Levignet,' he murmured, with 
 a smile, as he put out his hand to me when the 
 doctors had gone. ' You are such a gourmand 
 that you probably will not forgive me for cheating 
 you out of a dinner. I would have been glad to 
 postpone this little matter until after the coffee, but 
 I really had a prior engagement with the Gentle- 
 man who has called for me.' 
 
 " ' My dear, dear Ribault, is this a time to jest ! 
 I am pained to the heart to see you so ill, old 
 friend.' 
 
 " ' I understand. They have told you that a 
 priest has been sent for to come with the holy oil. 
 It is nothing, Levignet, nothing. I have made a 
 long journey, and am not sorry to have reached 
 the terminus. It has been pleasant enough, as a 
 journey but rest is pleasant, too, my friend. I 
 have not been a bad traveller. I am fairly free 
 from soil and dust. What I have to confess to the 
 priest is known to you. I have wronged no one
 
 142 Marcel Levignet 
 
 but Chartier, and I have made atonement to him 
 by keeping his memory free from the stain of which 
 we know, i must thank you for letting me have 
 my way in that. I know how your professional 
 pride suffered under your agreement not to bring 
 the assassin to justice ' 
 
 " * There was no assassin, Ribault,' I interrupted 
 feelingly. * There was a catastrophe, but no 
 crime. Heaven made innocence its own accidental 
 avenger ! ' 
 
 " ' Ah ! It is clear. You love the woman.' 
 
 "'Yes; I love her.' 
 
 " * Then you are ready to serve me,' he said, an 
 eager light in his eyes, a renewal of vigour in his 
 tone. ' I hesitated to ask the service, for I feared 
 it might be compromising in some way. But I 
 want to see them, Levignet, I want to see them 
 you understand Madame Chartier, Mademoi- 
 selle Chartier Charlotte and Elise! Can you 
 bring them to me? You are clever ingenious 
 could you manage to bring them without their be- 
 ing compromised, without the shadow of danger to 
 their good name ? Five minutes with them before 
 the priest is let in to shrive me would better fit my 
 soul for Paradise than his absolution and unction. 
 Will you undertake it? You need not fear that I 
 will die before they come. Death is not stronger 
 than love that waits expectant. Go for them, 
 Levignet. Charlotte will come, I know; maybe
 
 Marcel Levignet 143 
 
 she will not think it unwise to let. my daughter 
 come, too.' 
 
 " There was a world of winning pathos in the 
 way he said * my daughter.' 
 
 " I have not many emotions, my dear Summer- 
 ville. But there is something within me which I 
 do not recognise as myself. This something bade 
 me bend to kiss his cheeks, and a tear fell on his 
 forehead. 
 
 " 'You shall see them,' I said, rising, ' Au re- 
 voir, old friend.' 
 
 " He held out his hand to me, his face luminous 
 with a smile that chilled me prophetically. 
 
 " * Not au revoir for me, Levignet. Adieu I ' 
 "Adieu!' 
 
 " As I clasped his hand, he drew me toward 
 him, and as I stooped he kissed my cheek as I had 
 kissed his. 
 
 " * Once more, adieu.* 
 
 "'Adieu!' 
 
 " I left him, his final * adieu ' coming to my ears 
 in a whisper as I passed through the door."
 
 XIX 
 
 THERE was but one of the several doctors 
 waiting in the next room, the others hav- 
 ing gone, aware of their uselessness. I 
 explained to this doctor that the dying man had 
 long ago been intrusted by the late Judge Char- 
 tier with a piece of private information which it 
 was now important should be communicated to 
 Madame and Mademoiselle Chartier, and that* I 
 was going to fetch them. A simple lie is much 
 more credible than a complex truth. The doctor 
 knew that Ribault had been the famfly physician 
 of the Chartiers; he took it as a matter of course 
 that there had been professional secrets which the 
 time had come to divulge. I drove to Madame 
 Chartier, who hardly waited to learn the object of 
 my call before summoning her daughter; and in 
 less than five minutes we were in the closed cab 
 going with all possible speed toward the death- 
 bed. I do not know what passed between the 
 three in the brief interval before Madame Char- 
 tier and her daughter reappeared, weeping, and 
 implored the priest, waiting in the ante-room, to 
 hasten to the bedside; but, as there was no post- 
 ponement of the wedding of Mademoiselle Char- 
 
 144
 
 Marcel Levignet 145 
 
 tier, already announced for the ensuing week, it 
 is probable that she was not told the secret of her 
 parentage. I wonder if a conscious filial caress 
 would have been a light to his soul as it went down 
 into the Valley of the Shadow? 
 
 " I have some theories of my own as to the re- 
 lations between the seen and the unseen, the known 
 and the unknown, matter and thought; mad 
 fancies, I dare say, but interesting guests which my 
 mind delights to entertain. If you are willing to 
 be bored for an hour or two some day, I will prove 
 to you, by a thoroughly uncontrovertible but 
 heterodox syllogism, that you and I and Elohim 
 are one and inseparable; and that the only reality 
 is Thought.' 
 
 " Quite willing, Levignet," I said, smiling at 
 him; "but what has this highly metaphysical 
 flourish to do with Dr. Ribault and his daughter? " 
 
 " Nothing," he answered carelessly, as he dusted 
 the ash from his trousers and rose from the table. 
 '" Only, we have made so many fetiches and scare- 
 crows with which to terrify ourselves that we 
 have lost all sense of proportions and values, to 
 say nothing of absolute relations. We have made 
 Death the King of Terrors, and we pale and 
 tremble at the very name of him. We imagine 
 that he leads us down into a region of horror and 
 desolation; that he cheats us of present joys and 
 threatens us with penalties for our human frailties;
 
 146 Marcel Levignet 
 
 that this very creature of our own thought is the 
 master of our Destiny. We are such asses, Sum- 
 merville ! We are such asses ! " He smoked in 
 reflective silence a moment and then resumed his 
 narrative. 
 
 " When I went into the room with the others, 
 after the priest had given him passports to Elys- 
 ium, Ribault lay still and silent, his eyes closed, 
 a smile on his lips. I touched my fingers to his 
 forehead. It was already cold. But the smile 
 fascinated me. I suppose the others saw in it the 
 testimony of the soul's tranquillity, the perfect 
 peace of its departure. To my fancy it was the im- 
 print of a superb mockery. It was as if he were 
 laughing at us. This thing we call Death is the 
 grand farceur in the travesty of life with which man 
 at once transports and torments himself. We shall 
 all laugh when the final curtain is rung down, and 
 go about our serious business of Being. While the 
 show is on, let us cackle at the jests, applaud the 
 heroics, shudder at the calamities, and weep over 
 the misadventures as becomes the patron of the 
 play who pays for his place. So go your way to 
 your hotel, my friend, and put on your evening 
 clothes, that we may dine together like Christians. 
 I shall join you at seven."
 
 XX 
 
 INSTEAD of coming at the appointed hour to 
 dine with me, Levignet sent a carte pneuma- 
 tlque to excuse himself, promising an early 
 explanation of " one of those caprices which I have 
 grown too wise to disregard." Though disap- 
 pointed, I had no doubt that 'Toinette was respon- 
 sible for my having to eat in solitude for I had 
 no mind for other company than Levignet's with 
 which to discuss a particular dish I had ordered 
 to excite his loquacity. It is a mistake to imagine 
 that wine is the tongue's supreme laxative. A 
 well-cooked novelty will often do more than the 
 choicest vintage toward subduing the carnal and 
 liberating the wit. I remember a dinner party in 
 London, at which the fountain source of the even- 
 ing's jollity was the delicious succulence of an Amer- 
 ican corn fritter; and any barmecide who has sat 
 with Titmarsh in a snug corner of the "Cafe Trois 
 Freres " knows the inspirational properties of a 
 choice, gravy-coddled beefsteak. By the time I 
 rang for the waiter to clear the table, my temper 
 was of a benevolence to enfold the lean soul of my 
 enemy, and I even contemplated the " promenade " 
 of the Casino as the possible scene of a half-hour's 
 amusement , 
 
 147
 
 148 Marcel Levignet 
 
 I went to take my coffee on the terrace of the 
 Cafe de la Paix, the axis of worldly humanity, 
 pretty sure of sighting in the seated or passing 
 crowd a familiar face possibly one I had last seen 
 on the other side of the globe. I was not pre- 
 pared, however, to see Levignet himself, accom- 
 panied by a thin petit maitre, of lewdly dissipated 
 countenance, come sauntering along as if broken 
 engagements were the spring of perfect self-con- 
 tent. Having an inside place, I stood up as he 
 approached, the easier to attract his attention. I 
 spoke his name as he came opposite me. He 
 turned his head in my direction, favoured me with 
 a casual glance of inquiry, and passed on without 
 a sign of recognition. Thinking he might have 
 been too preoccupied to identify me, and not caring 
 to make myself heard by bellowing, I put a coin 
 down on the table, deferentially made my way be- 
 tween the sitters, and followed Levignet and his 
 companion. They were going in the direction of 
 the Opera, and I overtook them only as they were 
 turning into the rue Scribe. 
 
 " So, Levignet ! I have a crow to pick with 
 you!" 
 
 " Ah ! it is you, Summerville ! I have had an 
 odd impression of you for some moments, as if I 
 had just seen you." 
 
 " So you had. You gave me the ' haughty 
 stare ' as you passed the Cafe."
 
 Marcel Levignet 149 
 
 He laughed at the touch of slang. 
 
 " That accounts for the impression. My eyes 
 took a snapshot of you while my mind was busy 
 with other matters, and my brain was beginning to 
 develop the negative. I am inclined to think we 
 get quite one-half our original thoughts and fancies 
 in that way." Then, lowering his voice, he added, 
 " I want to introduce you to the Marquis de Fonte- 
 ville, the blackguard I spoke to you about this 
 afternoon." 
 
 The Marquis had strolled on when Levignet 
 stopped to shake hands with me, and was now a 
 few steps in advance. We overtook him, and 
 Levignet presented me, bestowing upon me the 
 borrowed distinction of an American Croesus. 
 
 The Marquis bowed very ceremoniously, put up 
 a jewelled hand to lift his hat, and declared him- 
 self enchanted to make the acquaintance of " M. 
 Soo-mair-veel." I, in my turn, declared the hon- 
 our I felt it to be to meet this popinjay residuum 
 of time's chemical reduction of a family celebrated 
 in the militant history of old France. A direct 
 ancestor of this moral and intellectual bankrupt, 
 this ninnyhammer redolent of vicious refinement, 
 was a glorious rival of the great Conde in buttress- 
 ing the throne of the Louis! I saw in the lamp- 
 light the cynical smile under Levignet's moustache, 
 as he expressed the hope that the Marquis would 
 find me worthy of his condescension.
 
 1 50 Marcel Levignet 
 
 "Well, monsieur?" said the Marquis, with an 
 inquiring look at Levignet that supplemented his 
 words. 
 
 Levignet shrugged his shoulders, and looked 
 sidewise at the Marquis as he gave a twist of his 
 moustache, which I knew to be a sign of his uncer- 
 tainty. 
 
 " I can answer for the discretion of my friend," 
 he began ; " but, if you think there could be an 
 objection " 
 
 " My dear M. Levignet," I interrupted, " you 
 cannot suppose that I would presume to " 
 
 " Oh, as for that," said the Marquis, suavely, 
 interrupting in his turn, " I have no doubt at all 
 that M. Soo-mair-veel would be a pleasant and 
 welcome addition to the party, if we may have the 
 honour of his company." 
 
 " It is most gracious of you to say so, Marquis ; 
 but it is probable that you and M. Levignet " 
 
 " Not at all," said the mannikin, with a defini- 
 tive wave of the hand. " I beg of you to be one 
 of us for the evening." 
 
 I bowed my acceptance, well aware that the in- 
 vitation was thus freely extended to the putative 
 millionaire rather than to the actual " M. Soo- 
 mair-veel." 
 
 The Marquis turned to signal one of the un- 
 numbered landaus that wait in the rue Scribe for 
 extra hire.
 
 Marcel Levignet 151 
 
 While he was so engaged, Levignet whispered 
 in my ear: 
 
 '" A loan of ten thousand francs to the little 
 vaurien has secured me an opportunity. Chance 
 befriend us, though I have no idea what is be- 
 fore us." 
 
 De Fonteville gave the coachman an address 
 outside the Porte St. Maillot, beyond the Bois, and 
 as we drove briskly along he chatted in a fatuous 
 way, meant to be witty, I imagine, as he laughed 
 so cheerily over his levities. Levignet encouraged 
 him with inanities equal to his own, and we arrived 
 at our destination the most companionable trio in 
 the world. The house gave no exterior sign of 
 the amusing evening upon which the Marquis re- 
 peatedly avowed we were entering, for it was a 
 thing of sepulchral darkness, not so much as a 
 gleam from the hall lamp relieving the front of its 
 inhospitable grimness. 
 
 We entered by an iron gate in an arched grille, 
 the key to which the Marquis took from his pocket, 
 with an inept remark as to the convenience of doing 
 without a concierge. He let us into the house him- 
 self, and when we had passed from a small vesti- 
 bule into the main hall, we were in a blaze of 
 electric light. Levignet's cry of astonishment 
 mightily pleased our host. 
 
 " You cannot judge all things by outward ap- 
 pearances, M. Levignet. We who live in the
 
 152 Marcel Levignet 
 
 world must know how to cheat the curious. When 
 you said to me this evening that all Paris knows 
 how the time passes with the clients of Pleasure, 
 did I not tell you that Pleasure had her temples of 
 which even gossip is ignorant? My faith, if one 
 could not nibble his pistache in unsuspected privacy 
 once in a while, one might as well be a mummy or a 
 signpost. Secrecy is a sauce to pleasure." 
 
 " Quite true," Levignet assented. " If we were 
 to practise our vices as openly as we parade our 
 virtues, life would be as dry and monotonous as a 
 Sahara. The fascination of our so-called im- 
 moralities is the darkness that envelops them ! " . 
 
 " My exact opinion, M. Levignet. Should our 
 government offer a prize for the vices as it does 
 for the virtues, I doubt if there would be a dozen 
 competitors for it in all France, after the first 
 generation. Breaking the conventions and evad- 
 ing the laws of society are the only reliefs from 
 the tedium of existence." 
 
 We had given our hats to a footman and were 
 mounting the broad velvet-carpeted stairway as the 
 Marquis exposed his ethical theory. Someone was 
 singing to the accompaniment of the flute and 
 piano, and we stopped on the broad landing to 
 listen. A very good voice, evidently well-trained. 
 
 " Do you recognise the singer? " asked the Mar- 
 quis, looking from Levignet to me. 
 
 " I seem to have heard her," Levignet answered.
 
 Marcel Levignet 153 
 
 " Of course you have. It is Mademoiselle 
 Faustine of the Opera." 
 
 " But the afternoon papers said she was suffer- 
 ing an indisposition, and could not sing to-night," 
 I ventured to object. 
 
 44 The papers are a great convenience, monsieur. 
 Sometimes it is necessary to impose on them. 
 Mademoiselle could not sing in public to-night be- 
 cause she was indisposed to slight our little reunion. 
 Be obliging enough to come with me. I will pro- 
 vide you with a dress for the salon. It is a rule 
 of our symposia that no one but the host shall 
 participate in them undisguised. I have masks 
 and dominoes for your service." 
 
 He led the way into # luxurious room at the 
 end of the corridor, and after unlocking a cellaret 
 for our benefit excused himself to go and select 
 our masquerade dress.
 
 XXI 
 
 WELL, Levignet," I said, when we were 
 alone. " You seem to be on excellent 
 terms with the gentleman whose morals 
 you painted in such shady colours this afternoon." 
 
 Levignet chuckled. 
 
 " I would be on. good terms with the Old Gentle- 
 man himself, if it would serve my end. I have 
 an object in view that justifies my intimacy with 
 this high priest of Cotytto." 
 
 " To increase your knowledge of social progress, 
 no doubt?" 
 
 " Possibly. Though I am pretty well informed 
 as to the character of our social extremes, the scum 
 at the top and the dregs at the bottom. For pur- 
 poses of general investigation, I prefer the latter; 
 there is greater diversity, more originality." 
 
 " Then you have a specific object? " 
 
 " Naturally." 
 
 " In the interest of Mademoiselle Dupont? " 
 
 " Bah ! I have no interest in fools of that 
 calibre. Nature has only one brain matrix for 
 the females designed for prostitution, complete 
 or special. They are all the same, from the pave- 
 ment nymph in the general market to the preten- 
 tious creature who sells to a particular buyer. To 
 
 154
 
 Marcel Levignet 155 
 
 have analysed one is to have diagnosed all. There 
 is the same minus sign in the brains of the lot of 
 them. But the street cocotte, whose supper may 
 depend on the success of her solicitations, is, to my 
 mind, very much more decent and respectable than 
 the women who wanton with the phylactery of 
 1 Good Society ' on their foreheads. No, my 
 friend; Mademoiselle Dupont can get into the 
 gorgeous caravan of the damned as soon as she 
 pleases, without let or hindrance from me. My 
 quarry is Mme. Clifton." 
 
 " You expect to find her here? " 
 
 " Hope, rather than expect. I told you that 
 I picked up a scrap of paper which the Clifton let 
 fall at the funeral of Dr. Ribault?" 
 
 " Yes; I remember you said something about it." 
 
 " It was a bit of a note with de Fonteville's 
 signature. The one line that piqued me was, ' I 
 have taken the house, and the passage is already 
 begun.' I knew this was a clue of immense value 
 to me as a fox-hunter, but my poor wits were set 
 on the rack by it. To what the deuce did it refer? 
 Devilry, of course, but devilry of what descrip- 
 tion ? I have been baffled at every turn for a year. 
 I joined the only club that has continued to toler- 
 ate the Marquis a gambling hell of the gilded 
 variety. I played freely and lost consistently. 
 They found me a lamb easily to be shorn and I 
 became popular with the scapegraces. I espe-
 
 i $6 Marcel Levignet 
 
 daily allowed the Marquis to dip into my pocket. 
 But I got no nearer to the puppy's confidence in 
 matters outside the club experience. I began to 
 fear that I was throwing my money to the dogs, 
 and of late I have kept away from my fellow profli- 
 gates, turning the issue over to Chance. Chance 
 has pursued her usual tactics. This evening, 
 while I was in the act of shaving, preparatory to 
 fattening my ribs at your expense, there came a 
 ring at the street door, and Suzel announced an 
 importunate visitor. It was the Marquis, and I 
 had him in my dressing-room rather than keep him 
 waiting. He hardly got through with his greet- 
 ings before declaring that he had come to beg of 
 me the trifling loan of ten thousand francs. 
 
 " I was suspicious, of course, the sum asked for 
 being so contemptible; but I scented an oppor- 
 tunity, and became difficult I assured him that I 
 had gambled so recklessly that to advance the sum 
 he required would trouble me, and I must have 
 some guaranty of its early repayment. 
 
 " 'Alas, that I cannot give you, monsieur. Re- 
 payment, yes! early repayment is out of the ques- 
 tion. My affairs will be in a muddle for another 
 six months. But I will offer you a consideration. 
 Give me your cheque, which I must use within the 
 hour, and I will introduce you to-night to one of 
 the circles you have so many times hinted a desire 
 to enter.'
 
 Marcel Levignet 157 
 
 " '* One of the arcana ? ' 
 
 " * The arcanum,' he replied, with a leer. 
 
 " * Well, on those terms I think I can fish up 
 the money from my strong box.' 
 
 " * Pardon me, but the money itself might tempt 
 me into folly. I prefer your cheque.' 
 
 " This struck me as being odd, but I passed it 
 over with a nod. 
 
 "'Very well; I will write a cheque, and the 
 moment I have entered the charmed circle, I will 
 put it into your hand.' 
 
 " ' You distrust me, monsieur? ' 
 
 " The little beggar actually stiffened into a 
 dignity that might have done credit to one of his 
 respectable ancestors. 
 
 " ' Not in the smallest degree, Marquis. But, as 
 you know, my father extracted my fortune from 
 chocolate, and I have the commercial instinct. I 
 never pay for a commodity until after the delivery. 
 It is a principle not an indication of distrust. 
 You might be run over by an omnibus before we 
 reached your destination, and then I should be at 
 the painful necessity of rifling your pockets to re- 
 cover the cheque ; or, what would be still more dis- 
 agreeable, instruct the bank to stop payment.' 
 
 " As I went on shaving while I talked, the rep- 
 robate chose to see the comical phase of the pre- 
 caution, and burst out laughing. 
 
 " * Word of honour, M. Levignet, your hour-
 
 158 Marcel Levignet 
 
 geois is ever a droll fellow. It shall be as you 
 say. I shall return for you in the course of the 
 hour, when I have notified the person that the 
 money is in hand.' 
 
 " I bowed the marionette out and went on with 
 the completion of my toilet in a curious perplexity 
 of mind because of my inability to account for the 
 loan and the conditions under which it was made. 
 I don't see the drift of it now, but at least you now 
 understand my cavalier treatment of our engage- 
 ment to dine, and why I am here." 
 
 " Pardon me, Levignet; but I do not understand 
 why you are here." 
 
 " Because I must neglect no means that may help 
 me to entrap Madame Clifton." 
 
 " And why have you so keen a desire to catch 
 her flagrante?" 
 
 " Can you ask? Do you not know that she 
 was the accomplice of Chartier in the seduction of 
 'Toinette? Are you not certain that it was she 
 who sent the sham letter on which Chartier based 
 his argument with Madame Beaudais in favour of 
 a secret marriage? Good heavens! Summer- 
 ville, do you think I will rest until I have had 
 revenge? Until I have that Jezebel in my grip? 
 Until I have set her behind the bars or driven her 
 into the Seine ? " 
 
 He spoke excitedly, a momentary passion get- 
 ting the better of his habitual calm, but it was
 
 Marcel Levignet 159 
 
 only transitory. In the next moment he clapped 
 me on the shoulder, and said laughingly : 
 
 " My ghost would be ashamed to show itself 
 on the other side if I should not get the better of 
 that woman before I quit the game." 
 
 " And you think this house " 
 
 " Is the house of the ' passage ' ? Yes. 
 Though what the * passage ' is " 
 
 He was interrupted by the Marquis, who was 
 followed by a servant bearing the articles for our 
 disguise. 
 
 " It is not necessary you should be in character," 
 he said, as the dominoes of white nun's veiling and 
 visors of white satin were given to us. " This is 
 the customary garb of the novice, and it is only 
 after one has been fully inducted into the society 
 that one is given an identity. It will be thought 
 by the company that you are candidates for initia- 
 tion, and it is understood, of course, that I vouch 
 for your trustworthiness. May I, therefore, be 
 pardoned for imposing on you the usual formula? 
 You give me your word not to reveal to anyone 
 any fact or circumstance, incident or person, with 
 which you may become acquainted between the 
 times of entering and quitting this house? " 
 
 We gave the required assurance. 
 
 " You must know that each member of our 
 group has the name of the historic or traditional 
 personage with whom he or she is supposed to be
 
 160 Marcel Levignet 
 
 in affinity. It will not surprise you, then, to be 
 surrounded by famous people, and if you hear me 
 addressed as Nero, I hope you will understand that 
 it is in recognition of my accomplishments as a 
 musician, poet, vocalist and sybarite rather than a 
 testimony to my depravity for I am the emperor 
 of this little world of pleasure-seekers." 
 
 " And as lavish as your prototype, by the evi- 
 dences of this room," Levignet remarked, as he 
 glanced at the rich furnishing, and curiously 
 prodded the walls of quilted silk. " This room 
 seems to have been prepared with the purpose of 
 shutting out sound." 
 
 " Or shutting in sound," the Marquis replied, 
 with a dry chuckle. " Most of the rooms in the 
 house are treated in similar fashion thickly 
 padded walls and double velvet hangings at the 
 windows. Our aim is to exclude the vulgar from 
 the slightest participation in our festivities. Not 
 a ray of light, not the ghost of a whisper can betray 
 to a passer-by a suggestion of life within the house 
 when the society is assembled. Why, monsieur, 
 you might discharge a pistol without fear of alarm- 
 ing the occupants of the adjoining room. This 
 is the House of Secrecy." 
 
 " Very useful," said Levignet, irrelevantly.
 
 XXII 
 
 OUR dominoes and masks put on, the Mar- 
 quis conducted us to the salon, into which 
 he ushered us with the announcement that 
 we were two seekers after light, and excused his 
 tardiness with the plea of his mission work. 
 
 A volley of badinage was levelled at him and 
 us from half a hundred masked persons whose 
 costumes were apparently borrowed from the ward- 
 robe of heathen antiquity, sacred and profane. 
 The general tenor of the remarks was the com- 
 plaint that Nero had reduced them to starvation 
 by his remissness, and there was an urgent demand 
 for the belated banquet. 
 
 The Marquis drew out his watch and held the 
 open dial to the general view. 
 
 " You see I am on time to the minute. Your 
 appetites are not reliable time-pieces. But," he 
 touched an electric button as he spoke, " the signal 
 is given, and our devotions shall begin." 
 
 Then, in a lower tone, he said to Levignet : 
 
 " Monsieur, my part of the compact is ful- 
 filled." 
 
 " And mine shall be on the instant," said 
 Levignet, producing from under his domino a 
 folded cheque, which he gave to the Marquis. 
 
 161
 
 162 Marcel Levignet 
 
 De Fonteville, without opening it, thanked 
 Levignet for the cheque, and thrust it into a pocket 
 of his waistcoat. 
 
 " You have not looked to see that it is in form," 
 Levignet cautioned him. 
 
 " I did not win your money at the club, mon- 
 sieur, without forming an opinion of your char- 
 acter. That I have brought you here this evening 
 in the company of a gentleman quite unknown to 
 me is evidence that I do not think you entirely un- 
 trustworthy." 
 
 The people were crowding out of the room, in 
 unceremonious gaiety, but one of the women, lin- 
 gering behind, approached the Marquis as he was 
 speaking. 
 
 "Well, Nero? "she asked, the tone of her 
 voice being at once a challenge and a threat. 
 
 " * Requiescat in pace' " as the tombstones say. 
 " It is in my pocket." 
 
 " So much the better." She bowed and took 
 the arm of a waiting Persian, who led her away. 
 
 " I am rather surprised," said Levignet, non- 
 chalantly, " to find Madame Clifton in your merry 
 assembly, Marquis." 
 
 The Marquis looked at him sharply, but the 
 satin visor was not less communicative than the 
 dark eyes that looked innocently through the 
 openings. 
 
 " You are in error, monsieur."
 
 Marcel Levignet 163 
 
 "Possibly," Levignet assented; "but the lady 
 who just spoke to you " 
 
 " Pardon me, monsieur," interrupted the Mar- 
 quis. " I neglected to acquaint you with one of 
 our canons. No one is known in this society but 
 by the name in which he or she was initiated. 
 Who the ladies and gentlemen really are is sup- 
 posed to be known only to myself. One member 
 may suspect the identity of another, but in no cir- 
 cumstances is he permitted to speak of it or utter 
 the name of the person. Certain persons, it is 
 true, are known to each other, but for the majority 
 our motto * Non mi ricordo ' could be interpreted, 
 * I do not know.' " 
 
 " I apologise for my indiscretion, Marquis. 
 But you will admit that you led me into it by speak- 
 ing the name of the singer we heard on the stairs." 
 
 " Ah ! that is another matter, monsieur. Our 
 professional associates, exclusively feminine, have 
 no reason to wish to conceal their identity. Each 
 one of them is known to us all, but she knows none 
 of us, myself always excepted, save by our mem- 
 bership names. It is understood, monsieur?" 
 
 " Perfectly, Marquis." 
 
 " Then, let us follow in to dinner, for they will 
 not sit down until I am at the table." 
 
 " Now for an orgie," Levignet whispered into 
 my ear, as we passed through the doorway.
 
 XXIII 
 
 THE famous Caliph of Bagdad himself 
 would have regarded with gratification 
 the sumptuousness of the room in which 
 the banquet was about to be served. It was fur- 
 nished in bizarre Oriental style with the addition 
 of modern luxury, and the tables were laden with 
 a service in which gold seemed to struggle with 
 silver for supremacy. About the tables, three 
 round ones arranged like a clover leaf, were semi- 
 circular seats, upholstered in morocco and furnished 
 with silk cushions, each designed to hold two per- 
 sons at a time. The lights of the room were 
 hooded, and were just numerous enough to cast a 
 mellow golden glow over the assembly in a way to 
 heighten the general effect and enrich the charm of 
 the women. The attendants were white-turbaned 
 negroes in Turkish garb. I could not reconcile the 
 spectacle with de Fonteville's urgent need for such 
 a beggarly sum as ten thousand francs. 
 
 The Marquis, who had gone to unlock an en- 
 chased box placed on a small table in a corner, 
 took from it four or five white cards. Holding 
 these in his hand, he turned to the company and 
 said, with a smile that brought out all the sugges- 
 tive evil of his thin, lewd face: 
 
 164
 
 Marcel Levignet 165 
 
 " I sec that you were very well pleased with your 
 last distribution at table," a remark that seemed 
 to afford the company no small amusement. 
 " There are but five requests for changes of place. 
 I thank you for giving me so little trouble to-night. 
 But we have two novitiates to dispose of, and I 
 must make the rearrangement with regard to them. 
 The younger White Domino I assign to Helen 
 of Troy, in the hope that she will find in him 
 another Paris. He has stature, at any rate. 
 Ariadne may continue her search for Theseus under 
 the guidance of the other White Domino, who, I 
 can promise her, is a master magician in the simple 
 art of wisdom. Clytie, who so ungenerously 
 abandons me, shall murmur her complaints into 
 the ear of Hercules, to whose superiority I bow; 
 and the exacting Diana may share her fauteuil 
 with Meleager, who, happily, does not tremble at 
 the burning of a green firebrand, and rushes fe- 
 verishly into change. That completes the readjust- 
 ment and the rest of you may follow your desires ; 
 but I hope some lady will think it unbecoming that 
 Nero should sit in loneliness." 
 
 Amid a good deal of merriment, we took our 
 respective places, and the babel of conversation 
 began, growing more and more animated as the 
 courses succeeded one another and the wines were 
 changed. 
 
 Helen of Troy was communicative and of a
 
 1 66 Marcel Levignet 
 
 lively fancy. Her throat, and the visible part 
 of her face proclaimed her young and passing fair. 
 Her manner was well-bred, even distinguished, 
 and I felicitated myself on the good fortune that 
 cast her to my lot. She early relieved my per- 
 plexity over the Marquis' private need and the 
 munificence of our surroundings by informing me 
 that the Society was communistic, each member 
 contributing to the maintenance of the establish- 
 ment and the provision of its pleasures. What 
 these pleasures were, beyond feasting and drink- 
 ing, she declared I might not know until I had 
 passed from the domino to the costume degree of 
 initiation; but intimated that the transition was an 
 easy one, which need not be delayed beyond the 
 evening if I chose to subscribe to the terms and 
 penalties of fellowship. 
 
 "What are the terms and penalties?" 
 " For instructions on that head you must apply 
 to Nero and Messalina." 
 
 " Messalina is the lady who sits beside Nero? " 
 " Oh, good heaven, no ! She is among us, but 
 not one of us. Messalina is the lady in purple at 
 the extreme right." 
 
 She designated the person whom Levignet sus- 
 pected to be Madame Clifton, and Levignet sat at 
 an arc of the same table that gave him the oppor- 
 tunity to watch and listen to " Messalina," were 
 he so inclined.
 
 Marcel Levignet 167 
 
 " At least you can enlighten me as to the objects 
 of the association?" 
 
 Helen laughed, and gave me a quizzical glance 
 from the visor-shaded eyes. 
 
 " Do you need to be enlightened? Can you not 
 judge by what you see? Isn't there something in 
 Latin about the foot of Hercules? Can you not 
 imagine that our object is to eat, drink and be 
 merry, as the wise Solomon, or whoever it was, 
 bade us? We are Epicureans without reserve, 
 temporarily freed from the social hypocrisies that 
 ordinarily enslave us." 
 
 " You are not entirely free, however, since you 
 still wear a mask." 
 
 " That is only because there is always some 
 novice at our board of whose good faith we are 
 not yet assured. Liberty without security is a 
 form of bondage." 
 
 " But your disguise is not impenetrable. I 
 should know that mouth of yours and the flash of 
 teeth through its smiling lips, wherever I might 
 have the pleasure of seeing them." 
 
 " You think so? Shall you be at the filysee re- 
 ception next week?" 
 
 " I have been fortunate enough to secure a 
 card." 
 
 " Then I shall challenge you to approach me 
 with a reminder that you dined with me to-night." 
 
 u I admit the possibility of a blunder."
 
 1 68 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " And that possibility is precisely my safeguard 
 against your impertinence." 
 
 "But if I should take that risk? If I should 
 come to you and say ' Mademoiselle, you have 
 promised me a tete-a-tete,' what would you say? " 
 
 " I should look at you, monsieur, and you 
 would apologise for your stupidity in mistaking 
 me for another." 
 
 "And if I persisted?" 
 
 " I should walk away from you, and you would 
 have the honour of exchanging cards with any one 
 of a dozen gentlemen." 
 
 " Members of the association? " 
 
 " Not necessarily." She smiled piquantly as 
 she added, " My husband, for example." 
 
 " Is there a Menelaus, then?" 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " And you would appeal to him ? " 
 
 "Why not? Husbands must be put to some 
 use or where is the good of having them? " 
 
 " Precisely. But I hope the rules of the asso- 
 ciation do not limit our acquaintance to table inter- 
 course." 
 
 " As for that, monsieur, much depends upon the 
 way in which you qualify as an initiate." 
 
 "And you cannot conduct my initiation? " 
 
 " Not primarily. I am a subordinate priestess." 
 
 " Messalina being the superior? " 
 
 " You have said it."
 
 Marcel Levignet 169 
 
 " And if I have her favour? " 
 
 14 Oh, then, monsieur, you will be so much one 
 of us that you may be trusted to pick up the glove 
 of any lady who drops it at your feet." 
 
 "It is ' lady's choice,' then?" 
 
 " Otherwise, we might content ourselves with 
 the limitations of conventional society." 
 
 " I have not found those limitations oppressively 
 narrow." 
 
 " Naturally. Society is organised on the ridic- 
 ulous basis of masculine prerogative. It gives 
 the man absolute freedom in the choice of moral 
 conduct. He may be a Lovelace, a Don Juan or 
 a Satyr, without forfeiting his character of gentle- 
 man or missing an invitation to the salon of the 
 most sanctimonious of our fashionable Pharisees. 
 That is a condition from which a sensible woman 
 must revolt. She has three ways of making her 
 protest by excluding herself from the society 
 whose gaieties fascinate her in spite of her knowl- 
 edge of the sham virtue upon which it rests; by 
 entering the forum as a reformer of abuses which 
 she knows the public has no sincere wish to cor- 
 rect; or by asserting her individual right to play 
 her full part in the comedy as long as she has 
 spirit enough to enjoy and charm enough to excite 
 the pleasure which civilisation declares to be the 
 chief end of life. Decidedly the latter alternative 
 is preferable to the convent or the platform, in \
 
 i ;o Marcel Levignet 
 
 the opinion of most women of active blood and 
 alert mind. This society represents the organised 
 revolt of womanhood as it is going on in every 
 capital of the world. We are sowing the seed 
 that will be the rich harvest of another generation, 
 when there will be no sort of distinction between 
 the privileges and liberties of the sexes." 
 
 Before I could make any reply, she raised her 
 wine-glass and, leaning forward, spoke in a tone 
 loud enough to dominate the hum of the general 
 conversation. 
 
 " If it please your Imperial Majesty, the novice 
 is forcing me into homiletics. I am in the midst 
 of a sermon on social discords. How shall he 
 be punished, to propitiate our deities?" 
 
 There was a burst of laughter and a general cry 
 of "Sorbet!" 
 
 Nero rose to his feet, motioned his wine-glass 
 toward Helen in salutation, and the two took a sip 
 from their respective glasses. 
 
 " Sir Novice," said Nero, fixing his eyes on me, 
 " you have been the means of betraying one of our 
 number into a forbidden subject. The company 
 requires you to be punished by the ordeal of the 
 Sorbet, the humiliation of gallant manhood. Let 
 the penitential Sorbet be given to the Novice." 
 
 His final remark was addressed to one of the 
 turbaned attendants, who, with a mock gesture of 
 despair, withdrew, and presently returned with an
 
 Marcel Levignet 171 
 
 ice that filled a distressingly large-sized glass. 
 Nero continued to stand regarding me, while every 
 sort of good-natured sarcasm was hurled at me by 
 the revellers, who affected to be in pitiful sympathy 
 with Helen. 
 
 As the ice was set in front of me, Nero bade me 
 rise, which I did to a clapping of hands and a salvo 
 of expletives. 
 
 " Novice," began Nero, with judicial gravity, 
 " Heaven gave you lips red with the warmth of 
 sensuous fire, and you profane them with the cold 
 speech of a dead morality. We can see on them 
 the pallor of starved desire. Let them be utterly 
 chilled. Hold to your lips the double Sorbet, 
 which you may not remove from them until you 
 have consumed the last particle." 
 
 I complied smilingly with the order, but soon 
 found the performance so far from amusing that 
 I begged to be pardoned in the midst of it. The 
 company was hilariously inexorable, and I com- 
 pleted the penalty in heroic martydom. 
 
 "Are your lips chilled of all sensation?" de- 
 manded Nero, as the others laughed. 
 
 " Frozen," I replied. 
 
 " Then rise, Helen." 
 
 Helen obeyed, with no other demur than a comi- 
 cal " Br-r-r," and an affected shiver. 
 
 " Novice, press your lips to the lady's throat." 
 
 Helen gave a cry at the touch of my lips, and
 
 Marcel Levignet 
 
 recoiled, chatteringly muffling a trifle of lace 
 about her breast as she crouched down into the 
 corner of our fauteuil, declaring that I had turned 
 her into an iceberg. 
 
 The absurd incident seemed to act as a signal to 
 the mischievous company to throw off artificial 
 restraints, and, wine having begun to assert its au- 
 thority, the feast developed into, a Bacchanalia 
 from that moment.
 
 XXIV 
 
 E1GNET was, of course, right in what he 
 said about the eternal sameness of the 
 " feminine brain of the minus sign." 
 Whatever the name Delilah, Thais, Phryne, 
 Aspasia, Chloe, Cora or Mimi; urban or rustic, 
 shepherdess or countess, impudent Lorette or arro- 
 gant grande dame it is the one type, little variant, 
 indestructible ; and the methods of the lupanar are 
 the expedients of the boudoir. 
 
 Levignet, whom I knew to be wine-proof, be- 
 came one of the noisiest and most demonstrative of 
 the convivialists. He declaimed snatches of verse 
 from Villon and Verlaine. He made mad jests 
 as couples, at intervals, withdrew from the tables 
 to sit in the remote corners or wander off, perhaps 
 to the salon. He told humorous anecdotes in a 
 way to excite the interest of the amatory egoists 
 who were disposed to forget everything but their 
 own philanderings. Helen of Troy was more at- 
 tentive to him than to me, and did not scruple, after 
 giving me a playful buffet on the cheek, to quit my 
 side and run to a seat just vacated opposite to 
 Levignet. Having been to market for a nightin- 
 gale, I did not purpose to return with a goose, so 
 gave chase to Helen, barely intercepting a tipsy 
 
 173
 
 i74 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Roman who was about to lurch into the place be- 
 side her. 
 
 " Then you are not absolutely destitute of 
 spirit? " she laughed. 
 
 " I do not shine in company," I admitted; " but 
 bracketed in a cosy nook with a pretty woman I 
 am not unimaginative. May we not follow the 
 example of some of the others, and smoke our 
 cigarettes under the rose ? " 
 
 " What presumption you novices always have I 
 You fancy yourself already a privileged member 
 because you have broken bread with us and drunk 
 yourself impudent? My dear innocent, look at 
 your left-hand neighbour. Do you observe the cu- 
 rious ring on his little finger? Glance at the other 
 gentlemen. Do you not see that each wears a simi- 
 lar token? You must know, then, monsieur, that 
 no lady has private favours for any man who is 
 not certified in that fashion. Heaven above us! 
 Do you think we offer ourselves a prey to wolves 
 in sheep's clothing?" 
 
 " Then I have been building Spanish castles all 
 the evening?" 
 
 " Oh, a Spanish castle is habitable, if you wear 
 the Lucky Cap." 
 
 " Tell me how to get possession of the Lucky 
 Cap." 
 
 " You must grab for it in the invisible." 
 
 "The riddle of the Sphinx?"
 
 Marcel Levignet 175 
 
 " Which Oedipus may solve." 
 
 " Be magnanimous, and give me a clue." 
 
 "To my own possible destruction? But I will 
 prove my fearlessness. In the first darkness, reach 
 out your hand and clutch. Hold fast to what you 
 grasp and in the light you will know your reward." 
 
 " Very lucid, I give you my word, Helen, and 
 I am deeply grateful, believe me ! " 
 
 She laughed at my discomfiture, declared I would 
 deserve no more than I got if I failed to act upon 
 her hint, and turned her attention to Levignet, who 
 was tipsily struggling to his feet, vowing that, as 
 Messalina had refused to laugh at his jests, he 
 thought her the only wise one for his serious con- 
 versation. 
 
 I noticed that Messalina had risen and was 
 standing back of the chair in which she had been 
 seated. As Levignet unsteadily made his way to- 
 ward her, she raised her hand and said sharply: 
 
 " Attention, ladies." 
 
 At once the ladies rose from their places and 
 stepped behind their chairs, to a chorus of joculari- 
 ties. Not being in the vein for a dull half hour 
 with the men, I was on the point of rising to ac- 
 company the ladies to the salon, when, suddenly, 
 the lights went out, leaving the room in Cimmerian 
 blackness. There were cries and a scuffling con- 
 fusion, as if the company had been thrown into a 
 panic, but it was rather an amused than an alarmed
 
 176 Marcel Levignet 
 
 manifestation I fancied, and I sat back in my chair 
 to await the return of light. 
 
 But after my momentary stupidity, the signifi- 
 cance of Helen's words flashed into my mind, and 
 I sprang up and clutched into the darkness back of 
 me. My hand grasped the fold of a garment, 
 and, holding to it, I exclaimed exultantly: 
 
 " I have you, Helen ! Now for the castle in 
 Spain I" 
 
 She moved away, but I followed, holding firmly 
 to the garment, jostling against others, taking my 
 share in the merry disorder that made no account 
 of overturned furniture and the occasional sharp 
 ring of broken crystal. I seemed to be led away 
 from the midst of the turmoil which gradually 
 subsided, and presently there was a silence that 
 made me think I had been guided into a secluded 
 room. 
 
 "At last, my beauty I" 
 
 In that moment, the lights were turned on, and 
 blinking the sudden glare, I looked eagerly into 
 the face of my captive, only to see the grinning 
 ivories of one of the blackamoor attendants whose 
 tunic I clutched. 
 
 A derisive guffaw added to my chagrin, and, 
 looking toward the other end of the room, for I 
 was still in the supper-room, I saw the Marquis, a 
 solitary figure at the table, sitting back in his chair, 
 shaking with enjoyment at my misadventure.
 
 Marcel Levignet 177 
 
 " So, monsieur, your preference is declared 1 
 You surrender a Helen to seize an Othello ! Well, 
 each one to his taste, and good luck to you ! " 
 
 "Where are the others?" I demanded, ignor- 
 ing his remarks and the cause of them. 
 
 "Ah, who shall say, monsieur! But they have 
 left us plenty of good wine, and there are cigars 
 to your choice. Come; sit down. Let us im- 
 prove our leisure." 
 
 "And M. Levignet?" I insisted. 
 
 The monkey thumped back on the table the 
 bottle he was lifting and the mocking smile left his 
 lips. 
 
 " The devil I I had forgotten him ! You are 
 right. It is necessary that we look to him. He 
 was in an uncertain condition. Come. We will 
 search for him." 
 
 He approached a door which he opened, motion- 
 ing to me to precede him. I sat down in a chair 
 at the table and took a cigarette from one of the 
 silver caskets. 
 
 " Pardon me, Marquis, but I never interfere 
 with a friend. I accept your invitation to improve 
 our leisure." 
 
 The Marquis stood hesitatingly a moment, eye- 
 ing me curiously, then closed the door and, with 
 an " As you please, monsieur," came smilingly to 
 take his former place at the table. But as he 
 sat down, he said to the black attendant :
 
 1 78 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " Hussan, look about the place for the gentle- 
 man in a white domino. Help him to return 
 here." 
 
 " I doubt if he will find M. Levignet," I said, 
 looking quizzically at the Marquis as the servant 
 went out. 
 
 "You do?" asked the Marquis easily, as he 
 filled a glass for me. " Our excellent friend 
 probably is at this moment reclining on the first 
 sofa he came to. Our wines are old and somnif- 
 erous. M. Levignet drank freely. He has not 
 wandered far." 
 
 " Why not suppose he is in the salon with the 
 others?" 
 
 De Fonteville held his glass against the light, 
 and watched the sparkling play of the bubbles, an 
 enigmatical smile on his thin lips, and spoke with- 
 out seeming to address me. 
 
 " These little sprites and elves that spring up 
 so gaily from the bottom of the glass and dart in 
 golden globules through their rich amber world, 
 vanish as suddenly when they reach the top as if 
 they were phantoms. Yet they are the very sub- 
 stance of life itself the spirit of the world as 
 substantial as the universe. Where do you think 
 they go, monsieur, when they leap from the glass ? 
 Could you recover one of them and return it to 
 dance once more in my wine before I drink it? 
 Our friends of the evening are like the vanished
 
 Marcel Levignet 179 
 
 wine sprites. They have dispersed into invisi- 
 bility. You and I, monsieur, are the only bubbles 
 left in the glass. You would search in vain for 
 the others. We were laggards. We are proof 
 to each other that wine stales and flattens in the 
 cup if we dally over it. To your health, mon- 
 sieur." 
 
 We drank to each other. 
 
 "Your guests have gone, then?" I asked as I 
 set down my glass. 
 
 " Each to his own business or pleasure, Mon- 
 sieur." 
 
 " In that case, I, too, should take my leave." 
 
 "Why so, monsieur? You cannot hope to find 
 the parallel of the Helen you let slip through your 
 fingers." 
 
 " Why not hope to find Helen herself again ? " 
 
 " Then you have the intention to join us? " 
 
 "And if I have?" 
 
 " I should be pleased to proceed to the initia- 
 tion." 
 
 " The first step to which is " 
 
 " Fifty thousand francs." 
 
 " And if one has not so much? " 
 
 " One does not join, monsieur." 
 
 "And no other qualification is necessary?" 
 
 " Oh, I do not say that, monsieur. There 
 are other considerations, naturally; but compliance 
 with the first requirement is in a measure the guar-
 
 i8o Marcel Levignet 
 
 antee of ability to satisfy us in respect of the sec- 
 ondary demands." 
 
 " And you would accept my cheque if given 
 now?" 
 
 " Receive, monsieur. Acceptance is rather more 
 formal. You will pardon me, but one must be 
 assured of a cheque's validity. Is it not so? " 
 
 " And if I do not comply with the initial re- 
 quirement, I still have, in a sense, been admitted 
 to your fellowship ; and it might be feared " 
 
 " Pardon me, monsieur. There is nothing to 
 fear. What can you claim to know ? Let us sup- 
 pose mind you, I put the case in the extreme 
 that you have a fancy for telling tales out of school. 
 You might tell your friends I do not know the 
 amount of credit it would give you in their regard 
 there are two opinions of me in Paris you 
 might tell your friends that you had supped with 
 the Marquis de Fonteville amid a joyous company 
 not too observant of conventional forms. You 
 might hazard a guess as to the character and con- 
 dition of the convives, but you would hardly be 
 able to designate one of them. Besides, monsieur, 
 your friend Levignet vouched for you. An astute 
 man is your friend Levignet, and he has the merit 
 of being a Parisian. He is not easily mistaken in 
 men. I cannot believe you are what we call a 
 bavard; but if you are, monsieur, you are at liberty 
 to prattle to the extent may please you. Our so-
 
 Marcel Levignet 181 
 
 ciety will not dissolve under your fancies. It is 
 possible, however, that an indiscretion might in- 
 volve you in a duel " 
 
 " A French duel, Marquis," I interrupted, not 
 able to repress a smile, " is not a formidable adven- 
 ture." 
 
 " You think so? It is true they are often mere 
 formalities to dispose of minor points of difference 
 between gentlemen. But it is not necessary to take 
 life in order to resent an affront or punish an 
 offender. You Americans and English pretend to 
 laugh at the form of duelling to which modern 
 niceties have reduced us others. We French, on 
 the other hand, can but feel a sort of mild contempt 
 for the people who settle their questions of honour 
 in the police court, or by the vulgar resort to fisti- 
 cuffs. At least we take the chance of a serious, 
 perhaps fatal hurt in the defence of personal dig- 
 nity; and there is, believe me, a greater sense of 
 honourable satisfaction in forcing an apology at 
 the point of the sword than there can be in having 
 your opponent bound over to keep the peace or 
 fined for assaulting you." 
 
 " You think it wipes out an insult or an in- 
 famy if you succeed in puncturing your antagonist's 
 wrist with the point of a rapier? " 
 
 " Much more effectually than by puncturing his 
 pocket by a police court process. When you abol- 
 ished duelling, monsieur, you should also to be
 
 1 82 Marcel Levignet 
 
 consistent in your claim to higher civilisation 
 have abolished capital punishment. The society 
 that hangs or decapitates its so-called criminals and 
 yet forbids gentlemen to be the guardians and 
 vindicators of their own honour and self-respect is 
 rather more barbarous than enlightened. If I, as 
 an individual, have not the right to kill the man 
 who has attempted to disgrace or dishonour me, 
 what gives society the right to kill by * legal ' 
 methods the more or less insane wretch who incurs 
 its judicial hatred? For my part, I have no ob- 
 jection to the gibbet or the guillotine. It is of no 
 importance to me how many men or women are 
 executed in the course of a year. I am inclined to 
 think, indeed, that it would be a good thing if 
 poverty were made a capital offence. If we would 
 substitute the guillotine for our alms houses and 
 charitable institutions, we could very quickly solve 
 some vexatious problems. But the affectation of 
 virtue for having made duelling impracticable while 
 we continue to kill men who are powerless to resist 
 our organised, legally instituted band of murderers 
 is, to my mind, one of the most grotesque burlesques 
 of morality that pharisaical Christianity has in- 
 vented." 
 
 I looked at the Marquis in some surprise. One 
 would not have expected to hear anything in this 
 vein issuing from the thin lips of the worn voluptu- 
 ary who sat in smiling complacency amid the debris
 
 Marcel Levignet 183 
 
 of our recent orgie. What I was about to say in 
 reply was prevented by the entrance of Hussan. 
 
 "Well?" asked the Marquis, glancing at the 
 salaaming blackamoor, " what have you done with 
 the gentleman ? " 
 
 " I have not found him." 
 
 " Not found him I You have looked in every 
 room? " 
 
 " Every open room." 
 
 The Marquis burst out laughing. He raised a 
 wine glass and motioned me to imitate him. 
 
 " So, monsieur, your fellow domino was more 
 fortunate than you. He grasped the robe of a 
 goddess while you clung to the tunic of an imp. 
 When we take part in a game with Caprice, we 
 can never tell what trick the little baggage will 
 play us. The only way to baffle her is to laugh at 
 her pranks. Let us drink to your friend ! " 
 
 " With the greatest readiness, Marquis; to my 
 friend and the ' Secret Passage.' " 
 
 It was a chance shot, but it rang the bell. De 
 Fonteville let fall his glass, the smile vanished from 
 his lips and he rose to his feet, looking at me with 
 a malevolent contracting of his beady eyes. I 
 sipped my wine innocently, as if my words had had 
 no especial significance. 
 
 " What are you pleased to mean by * Secret Pas- 
 sage,' monsieur? " 
 
 " An inadvertance, Marquis. I was thinking
 
 t 
 
 184 Marcel Levignet 
 
 of the Cumaean sibyl and the dark way that 
 wound down to her mysterious chamber. Your 
 protonym was familiar with it, and in taking his 
 name no doubt you have adopted his methods. 
 What more natural than that our Nero of Paris 
 should have his sibyl and his subterranean avenue 
 of communication with her? " 
 
 " What are you implying, monsieur? " 
 
 " What are you inferring, Marquis? " 
 
 " Let us be frank, monsieur. Let us play with 
 our cards on the table. Last evening, to complete 
 a sum it was necessary I should have at a partic- 
 ular hour, I borrowed a small amount temporarily 
 from M. Levignet. You are aware of that?" 
 
 " I am to some extent in M. Levignet's confi- 
 dence." 
 
 " You know, then, that he made the loan con- 
 ditional upon his introduction here?" 
 
 " Most men require a 4 value received ' in trans- 
 actions of the kind." 
 
 " Exactly. When M. Levignet came here, he 
 also had in mind the fable of the sibyl and the 
 underground passage? " 
 
 " I believe that he has dipped into the classics." 
 
 " In short, monsieur, your friend came as a 
 spy?" 
 
 " The word is not parliamentary, Marquis. M. 
 Levignet is an investigator of social phenomena." 
 
 " It is too much to ask you by what suggestion
 
 Marcel Levignet 185 
 
 M. Levignet was led to fancy he would find here 
 the ' passage ' to a mystery? " 
 
 " When one wishes to probe the occult, Mar- 
 quis, one has recourse to a sibyl, is it not so? " 
 
 " You and M. Levignet are fools, monsieur. 
 You have employed the artifice of children. What 
 your object was I do not take the trouble to in- 
 quire. If it was blackmail, why " 
 
 I made a movement to rise, but the Marquis, 
 looking beyond me, lifted his hand in a peculiar 
 gesture. I perceived rather than heard a quick 
 step behind me and had a flash of memory that I 
 had seen Hussan pass me some minutes before. 
 In the same instant I felt a sudden jar of the head. 
 
 When I recovered consciousness I found my- 
 self in a closed cab moving at a leisurely pace along 
 an outer boulevard. After some time, collecting 
 my thoughts, I put my head out the window and 
 called to the cocker. 
 
 "Where are you going?" 
 
 The cocker stopped his horse and leaned over 
 to regard me, as he said with an appreciative smile : 
 
 " Where it pleases Monsieur. I have been 
 waiting until he was sober enough to tell me." 
 
 The dull gilding of the Invalides dome showed 
 like bronze in the first faint glow of the sunrise. 
 Paris is a chaste delight in the untroubled dawn, but 
 I closed my eyes heavily as I was driven to my hotel.
 
 XXV 
 
 HUSSAN'S friendly tap did more than the 
 wine I had drunk or the late hours I had 
 kept to make my bed alluring, and, being 
 got into it with the aid of a valet de chambre, I 
 gave orders that I be left undisturbed until even- 
 ing. When I awoke refreshed and rang for serv- 
 ice, my first inquiry was to learn if M. Levignet 
 had called or sent word. Although it was then 
 ten o'clock, there was neither card nor message 
 from Levignet, and I fell to wondering if he, too, 
 had been favoured with attentions similar to mine. 
 I grew to feel so anxious about him that, as soon as 
 I had eaten enough to appease an abominable hun- 
 ger, I took a cab and drove to his residence. He 
 was not at home and old Suzel knew nothing of his 
 whereabouts. 
 
 The queer creature was not in the least con- 
 cerned for the safety of her master, however. Her 
 confidence in his ability to take care of himself 
 did not permit the intrusion of worry over his 
 absence. He might be away a week or a month 
 in mysterious silence without affecting the calm 
 state of mind which enabled her to say in rebuke of 
 my own inquietude : 
 
 186
 
 Marcel Levignet 187 
 
 " Je suis tranquille, m'sieu'. II est un sage gar- 
 con. N'allez pas vous mettre martel en tete" 
 
 I drove to Henry's for a cup of consolation, 
 looked in at two or three of the principal cafes, 
 made unprofitable inquiries at the newspaper office, 
 and went moodily back to my hotel, only to 
 find Levignet sitting complacently at a table 
 in the smoking room, trifling with a problem in 
 chess. 
 
 " Ah, here you are ! " I exclaimed, brightening 
 at the sight of him. " A picture of cool impudence, 
 considering the way you left me in the lurch last 
 night!" 
 
 " Wait a minute, my friend. I have just dis- 
 covered the proper first move." 
 
 He went on with his problem in provoking self- 
 absorption, until, with a satisfied " C'est ca! " he 
 played mate to the black. Then, looking up at 
 me: 
 
 " So you have come, faineant! It is an hour 
 that I have waited for you with no better com- 
 panion than these pieces, while you enjoyed your- 
 self with folly of I know not what description ! " 
 
 " The folly of seeking you in your own home, 
 monsieur." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Did you see Suzel? " 
 
 " Inevitably." 
 
 " Did she not tell you that the surest way to find
 
 1 88 Marcel Levignet 
 
 the excellent M. Levignet is to attend his coming 
 with composure ? " 
 
 " Something to that effect." 
 
 " Ah ! if the world were as level-headed as old 
 Suzel, we could dispense with many of our ridic- 
 ulous institutions. But come." 
 
 He rose to his feet and locked his arm in with 
 mine. " You have wasted so much of my time 
 that I must spoil a capital narrative by reducing it 
 to a synopsis. That is an affliction to a man of my 
 temperament. The omission of a detail is a pain. 
 You cannot strip a tree of its foliage without de- 
 stroying its beauty; bare branches whipping the 
 wind may be interesting to a lean imagination but 
 a rich fancy is exigent of colour. If I give you a 
 skeleton in black and white, blame yourself. An 
 hour ago, I should have clothed it with motley. 
 Perhaps the Widow Cliquot might lend some grace 
 to the conversation. Shall we have her up? Be- 
 sides, you see, I carry my stick to-night. My leg 
 has been playing antics with my temper and I am 
 in the humour for champagne." 
 
 We went up to my room, followed presently by 
 a waiter with the wine, and when we were com- 
 fortably established, Levignet, indifferent to my 
 impatient curiosity, demanded that I tell him of 
 my experiences after " the lights went out." He 
 laughed over my capture of Hussan, and even 
 found amusement in the incident of the assault,
 
 Marcel Levignet 189 
 
 thinking the entire proceeding a capital joke at my 
 expense. 
 
 " Men who have no gift of divination," he de- 
 clared, as he smilingly raised his glass to enjoy the 
 dance of the bubbles, " must be the sport of cir- 
 cumstance. You should cultivate your faculties, 
 Summerville. Every man has it in his power to 
 become clairvoyant, if he will set about it. You 
 must learn to see effects when causes are set in 
 motion. While you were indulging yourself with 
 the sensuous delights of the supper and the com- 
 pany, I was studying my environment, analysing 
 the jests, interpreting the bizarre conduct of the 
 revellers, looking into the minds of the principals. 
 The going out of the lights did not take me by 
 surprise. I was prepared for a fantastic termina- 
 tion of the affair. I had kept my eye on Messa- 
 lina. 
 
 " If you were observing me, you saw that I stag- 
 gered to my feet when the lady rose, and that 
 I lurched into a position to the right of the 
 Marquis that commanded the retreat of Messa- 
 lina. The instant the lights were turned off, I 
 understood that it was merely a trick to cheat the 
 novices, for of course, the others were familiar 
 enough with the place to find their way about in 
 the dark. I gently took hold of the robe of 
 Messalina as she passed, and quickly followed, 
 having care not to let her feel the least restraint.
 
 1 90 Marcel Levignet 
 
 She led me through a dark corridor and not until 
 she opened the door to a brilliantly lighted room 
 was she aware of my presence. She made an 
 offer to close the door again, but taking advantage 
 of my supposed intoxication, I laughingly threw 
 my arms about her and, in spite of her indignant 
 protest, urged her into the room and closed the 
 door behind us. At first she attempted to rally 
 me on having missed the object of my choice, and 
 advised me to hasten in pursuit of younger quarry; 
 but when, assuring her that my palate was for 
 thoroughly seasoned fruit, I locked the door and 
 put the key into my pocket, Messalina fell into a 
 fury compared with which Sarah's theatrical fren- 
 zies are tame as the effervescence of seltzer to 
 the sparks of an electric dynamo. She made a 
 dash for the bell-push, but I interposed in fine 
 good humour, and bade her to indulge the whimsy 
 of fate. The unreasoning creature snatched up 
 from a table one of those hideous Oriental daggers 
 which fashion has converted into paper cutters and 
 came at me with such determined malevolence that 
 anyone less skilled than I in the science of self- 
 defence must have received a dangerous prick. I 
 need not tell you that I disarmed her in the politest 
 manner possible, offering at the same time to teach 
 her a more artful use of the weapon. Finding 
 herself helplessly confronted by a man who knew 
 his metier, she had the good sense to change her
 
 Marcel Levignet I 9 l 
 
 tactics and flung herself into a chair to laugh at 
 the comedy. 
 
 "'For whom do you mistake me, monsieur?' 
 she asked banteringly, bringing the tips of her 
 fingers together and favouring me with a provok- 
 ingly engaging smile. 
 
 " ' For no one but yourself, my incomparable 
 Messalina. And for the pleasure of a tete-a-tete 
 with you, I would sacrifice a regiment of the incon- 
 tinent beauties we had at table.' 
 
 " ' Very flattering, M. Levignet.' 
 
 " ' The simplest verity, Madame Clifton.' 
 
 " ' Since we know each other, we may remove 
 our masks.' 
 
 " ' Mine has become annoying.' 
 
 " * Now then,' she said, as she took off her visor, 
 4 you can tell me what object you had in following 
 me.' 
 
 " ' Unreservedly, madame. For the last five or 
 six years I have known you for the most clever and 
 audacious among the conciliatrices who are so im- 
 portant to the social activities of our modern 
 Babylon. My admiration of the faultless manner 
 in which you have conducted your delicate enter- 
 prises has led me to investigate your methods; but 
 until this evening I had no idea of the superb 
 system that has insured your success. I desire to 
 pay homage to you.' 
 
 " Madame Clifton regarded me through half-
 
 192 Marcel Levignet 
 
 closed eyes, with an expression that would have 
 made a less self-collected man uneasy. 
 
 " * What do you mean by the word conclliatrice, 
 monsieur?' 
 
 '" * Is it not intelligible to you, madame ? ' 
 There are many to the same purport. Sup- 
 pose I say entremetteuse I am fond of euphe- 
 misms. The more vulgar words do not seem to 
 me to suit your distinction/ 
 
 " * You take advantage of your present position 
 to insult me in this outrageous fashion ! ' 
 
 " ' Does it insult you, madame, to compliment 
 your finesse ? ' 
 
 " 'Do you imagine that you will quit this place 
 without being properly chastised for your infamous 
 conduct ? ' 
 
 44 ' 4 1 had not taken that into consideration.' 
 
 444 You shall suffer for it!' 
 
 44 1 decided on a bold stroke. In dealing with 
 women, my friend, it is necessary to part company 
 with truth. So I said to her in the easiest manner 
 imaginable : 
 
 44 4 Dear Madame Clifton, I had too great an 
 esteem of your resourcefulness and daring to ven- 
 ture here without precaution. The carriage which 
 brought me here was followed by one containing 
 two members of the secret police. At this mo- 
 ment the house is surrounded. No one can pass 
 from it unchallenged. If I do not appear to
 
 Marcel Levignet 193 
 
 my men at a particular hour, the house will be 
 raided.' 
 
 " The adorable woman laughed in the most 
 thorough enjoyment of my threat. I saw that she 
 did not fear the consequences of a raid, and my 
 quick mind leaped to a conclusion. I hazarded a 
 shot which I hoped would hit the centre. It was 
 the same you fired at the Marquis probably in 
 the same moment and it had the same result. I 
 looked narrowly at her as I said: 
 
 " 'Ah ! you laugh, madame, because you know, 
 as I do, that at the first alarm of an assault on the 
 doors to this house the ladies and gentlemen under 
 your clever protection would hasten to escape by 
 the secret passage which connects this house with 
 yours ' 
 
 " Madame sprang to her feet. 
 
 " ' You lie ! ' she screamed at me, with a return 
 of the fury that belongs to the highest tragic 
 genius. 
 
 " * If I do, madame,' I said suavely, ' it does not 
 disturb the fact that your house is as carefully 
 guarded as this in which we are now so agreeably 
 engaged.' 
 
 " It grieves me, as I have told you before, friend 
 Summerville, to see a criminal loss of nerve. I 
 cannot bear to have one of my ideals shattered, 
 and it irritated me to have Madame Clifton slump 
 down into her chair and stare at me in a pale-faced,
 
 194 Marcel Levignet 
 
 frightened way, with nothing of fight left in her, 
 gasping out: 
 
 " * You mean to ruin me! Why? How have 
 I injured you? Or what is it you hope to gain? 
 Why have you signalled me out for attack? If it 
 is money you want ' 
 
 " * Pardon me, madame. I have so much more 
 money than I want that I can afford to lend to your 
 friend de Fonteville a considerable sum and ask no 
 other repayment than this privilege of talking with 
 you. You ask me what I am. I am an amateur, 
 madame, in the art of criminal anthropotomy, a 
 phrase you may not understand, as it is one of my 
 own inventing. You ask how you have injured 
 me. I cannot answer that question without put- 
 ting myself in your power, for if you knew the 
 motive that actuates me you would have the means 
 of defeating my purpose. I take some spiteful 
 pleasure in telling you that a word from you could 
 transform me from your assailant into your de- 
 fender; but, unless you can penetrate the secrets 
 of my heart, you cannot come to the knowledge of 
 that word. You ask me what I hope to gain 
 why I have signalled you out for attack. Would 
 it not be something to my credit, madame, if I 
 could rid Paris of one of the most unscrupulously 
 clever priestesses of vice that has ever engaged in 
 the work of corrupting innocence ? ' 
 
 " Madame Clifton had recovered something of
 
 Marcel Levignet 195 
 
 her normal sang-froid, and I could see that my 
 last remark had given her the idea that I was one 
 of those abominable agents for the promotion of 
 public morals with which pharisaical society tricks 
 itself. I am sorry the caricaturists have degraded 
 the word sardonic. It is one of the most perfect 
 descriptives in any language, and there is no other 
 adjective so well suited to the kind of smile that 
 embodies at once a sneer, a defiance and the admis- 
 sion of guilt. It was a sardonic smile that 
 Madame Clifton bestowed upon me as she re- 
 marked : 
 
 " ' You are, then, an evangelist, M. Levignet? ' 
 * ' There is hardly a nobler mission, madame.' 
 
 " * And you have undertaken the reformation 
 of Paris?' 
 
 " ' The limit of a man's life is three-score years 
 and ten. I have already passed the meridian.' 
 
 " ' Exactly, M. Levignet. You doubtless, too, 
 recognise the fact that the cure of evil is not in the 
 destruction of its instruments. Suppose, for the 
 sake of the argument, that you should hand me 
 over to those friends of yours who are waiting 
 outside, that they should take me to the Lazare 
 and close up my house, how great an addition do 
 you imagine would be made to the virtue of 
 Paris?' 
 
 " * I do not think we are in disagreement over 
 that particular, madame.'
 
 196 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " * Of course we are not, monsieur. As a man 
 of the world it is impossible you should view social 
 problems invertedly, after the manner of the fanat- 
 ical myope. You have, however, addressed me 
 in offensive terms, as if I were deserving of 
 especial reprobation. Will you oblige me by stat- 
 ing in what way you justify your insolence? ' 
 
 " * I can put it in a nutshell, madame; you use 
 your position as a respected member of society to 
 mask a nefarious profession.' 
 
 " * Suppose that is so which I emphatically 
 deny suppose for the sake of the argument, that 
 I bring together young ladies and gentlemen who 
 have a mind to each other's acquaintance ' 
 
 " * Say that you bring them together by art and 
 subterfuge on the one hand, and for the price on 
 the other.' 
 
 " ' Well, even if you put it that way, is my 
 method so very different from that of the devoted 
 mammas who have daughters to dispose of? ' 
 
 " * You would say, madame ' 
 
 " * Good heaven 1 M. Levignet, why make two 
 bites of a cherry! If you read your paper this 
 morning you know that the Madeleine was crowded 
 the day before to witness the ceremony by which 
 Madame de Barbeude piously delivered her only 
 daughter into the hands of that satyr of a Russian 
 prince. We all know how Madame de Barbeude 
 schemed, planned and capered to bring the affair
 
 Marcel Levignet 197 
 
 about, and that, too, without the least regard to 
 the fact that the daughter was rather afraid of the 
 beast and certainly felt no inclination to marry 
 him. I saw a dozen smug dowagers in the church 
 who had in similar ways made merchandise of 
 their daughter's charms. Is not the mother who 
 markets her daughter to a title or a fortune, and 
 delivers her over to prostitution with a man she 
 secretly despises, a worse sort of entremetteuse 
 than the woman who only traffics in strangers to 
 her blood ? Is it worse for me to profit systemati- 
 cally by the play of passions that have the course 
 of nature to excuse them than for calculating pa- 
 rents to subvert natural sentiments to the sordid 
 demand of contemptible ambition? ' 
 
 " ' Again, madame, I may say we are not in dis- 
 agreement. If there were anything new to me in 
 what you have said, I should make you my most 
 admirable bow and retire overwhelmed by a sense 
 of your superiority to many of the ladies who 
 would pretend to abhor you, were they aware of 
 your actual vocation. But it is not a question 
 with me whether you are more or less culpable than 
 others whom social convention excuses. I am not 
 sure but, as a convenience, you fill a more important 
 place among the agents of civilisation than does 
 the great army of worldly mothers who make 
 wares of the family fruits. I am not concerned 
 with the ethics of our system. If the clergy can
 
 198 Marcel Levignet 
 
 wink at abominations and sanctify the works of the 
 devil, we laymen who live for the rewards and 
 pleasures of material life may be allowed to fol- 
 low our own caprices in the choice of personal en- 
 joyments. As a panderer to the passions of our 
 society darlings, male and female, you would be 
 entirely free from molestation by me. On the 
 contrary, as I believe in the divine order, that 
 works for the survival of the fittest, I should be in- 
 clined to endorse your office as a means to the earli- 
 est extinction of the corrupt social element which 
 now hinders the rise of a wholesome democracy. 
 But I view you in the personal aspect, my dear 
 Madame Clifton. You have done me a personal 
 injury; I am vindictive. If I am bent on your 
 " ruin " as you put it, it is because I feel a personal 
 resentment amounting to enmity.' 
 " * In what way have I injured you.' 
 " ' With your permission, we will waive that 
 question. My answer to it might seem to you 
 quixotic. In my eyes you are a tigress that has 
 broken into a sheep fold and come near to destroy- 
 ing my ewe lamb. I burn with the spirit of 
 revenge. You see, it is not as an agent of public 
 morals that I confront you.' 
 
 " ' And you are going to show me your hand? ' 
 " * Not sufficiently to let you play against it suc- 
 cessfully.' 
 
 " * Well, what is your intention? '
 
 Marcel Levignet 199 
 
 " ' First to inspect, with your permission, the 
 private documents relating to your " cases," which 
 I am certain you keep.' 
 
 " ' I have no such documents.' 
 
 " ' I cannot credit that statement. You are too 
 practical, too business-like, not to have a secret 
 dossier for each of your clients.' 
 
 " ' And if I have, do you imagine that I will 
 show them to you ? ' 
 
 " * That is my conviction.' 
 
 "'You are a fool!' 
 
 " Madame Clifton rose to her feet with the im- 
 perious manner of a veritable Messalina ready to 
 dismiss a troublesome suitor to the bow-wows. 
 
 She started toward the bell-push. 
 
 " ' Pardon me, madame,' I said most affably as 
 I stepped in front of her, ' you forget that I am 
 master of the situation.' I took out my watch. 
 * It lacks but three-quarters of an hour of the time 
 appointed for my men to attack the house. You 
 may be sure they will effect an entrance. While I 
 entertain you here, they will not only arrest whom- 
 soever they find, but they will ransack every desk, 
 escritoire or cabinet that could contain a scrap of 
 paper. It is for you to choose between this course 
 and the alternative I propose. There is no escape 
 from one or the other.' 
 
 " ' You devil ! ' said Madame Clifton clenching 
 her hands and glaring at me in a thoroughly vicious
 
 200 Marcel Levignet 
 
 fashion. There is no denying that the creature is 
 
 handsome. 
 
 " * Fool or devil, madame, I am your servant. 
 
 Shall we proceed to the inventory? ' 
 
 " * Is it your intention to arrest me whether I 
 
 comply with your demand or not?' 
 
 " * That will depend upon the measure of my 
 
 success in securing what I want.' 
 "'What papers do you want?' 
 " * I must make my own selection.' 
 " * And if you do not find what you want ? ' 
 " * Then I shall certainly proceed to an arrest.' 
 " * That is infamous, monsieur. You threaten 
 
 me equally whether I have the papers you seek or 
 
 not?' 
 
 " * No, madame ; I merely wish to warn you that 
 
 it is useless to try to conceal from me the records 
 
 I am sure you have.' "
 
 XXVI 
 
 MADAME recognised the futility of fen- 
 cing with a person so apparently secure 
 of his position. With her elbow rest- 
 ing on the arm of the chair, her strong, faultless 
 teeth gnawing her thumb-nail as a bait to her 
 impotent rage, she glared at me in silence for some 
 moments, taking the measure of my serenity. Fi- 
 nally, she said with cool discrimination : 
 
 ' I see that you are not actuated so much by a 
 desire to get your fingers about my throat as you 
 are by the hope of destroying my authority over 
 some particular person.' 
 
 " * To an extent you are right. I always ac- 
 knowledge a touch, madame.' 
 
 " ' You are willing to negotiate? ' 
 
 " * Not to the value of a sou, madame. It is 
 one of my eccentricities never to purchase that 
 which I can have for the taking. Pardon me, if I 
 again remind you that you are in danger of annoy- 
 ance from my fellows in the street.' 
 
 " She gave a shrug of resignation and rose to 
 her feet. 
 
 " * Very well, monsieur, it is your advantage. 
 Tell me what documents you require, and I will 
 put them into your hands.' 
 
 201
 
 202 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " * You will oblige me by allowing me to choose 
 for myself.' 
 
 " ' That I must decline to do.' 
 
 " * Dear madame, we are trifling.' 
 
 " * I refuse positively refuse.' 
 
 " She resumed her seat, folded her arms, eased 
 her shoulders into the comfortable cushion of the 
 chair and lapsed into sullen defiance. I began to 
 fear that the game was up and felt uncommonly 
 like a fool. 
 
 " But I have made it a rule to lose in the same 
 good nature with which I receive the caresses of 
 fortune. A great part of the ills we have to 
 suffer is the result of a too speedy surrender to 
 what we imagine to be inevitable. Experience 
 has taught me that the most gratifying success 
 often attends our refusal to acknowledge a defeat. 
 So I only smiled, bowed acquiescence to her de- 
 cision, and drew a chair into a position to command 
 the bell. 
 
 " * As you please, madame,' I said, easily, sitting 
 down and crossing my obdurate leg over the other. 
 1 You have quite half an hour of freedom ; let us 
 employ the time amiably. If, to-morrow morn- 
 ing, it be my duty to appear in an inchivalrous 
 attitude toward you, let it be with the memory 
 of a 
 
 " She interrupted me sharply, spoiling a very 
 pretty phrase.
 
 Marcel Levignet 203 
 
 " * There is not the slightest evidence against 
 me, M. Levignet.' 
 
 " ' If that be so, madame, I shall find myself in 
 an awkward predicament.' 
 
 " * You are right, there, monsieur ! The police 
 are powerless without accusing witnesses. What 
 will your charge amount to if you can produce 
 no one to testify to having been victimised by 
 me?' 
 
 " ' What, indeed ! I am very unwilling to let my 
 imagination dwell on the consequences of a failure 
 to justify your arrest.' 
 
 " * I know something of the law, monsieur,' she 
 replied to my cynicism. 
 
 " ' That goes without saying, dear madame, 
 since you have given proof these many years of 
 your ability to evade it.' 
 
 " * I repeat you cannot produce the smallest 
 particle of evidence against me.' 
 
 " ' Evidence, you must admit, is not always 
 dependent on fact. One is sometimes surprised 
 by the adroitness with which the police manage to 
 make bricks without straw.' 
 
 " ' At least two persons must testify against me 
 before a case may be made out.' 
 
 " ' Give yourself no uneasiness. What the law 
 demands the law shall have. I can confront you 
 with all the necessary accusers.' 
 
 " ' Name them.'
 
 204 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " She flashed a vengeful look at me, ready to 
 rend her betrayers. 
 
 " ' Pardon, but you must have the patience to 
 take the incidents in their order. To-morrow 
 morning you may see and name them for yourself. 
 Your friend the Marquis de Fonteville ' 
 
 " She bounded to her feet as if discharged from 
 the chair by a spring. 
 
 " ' Has that miserable ' 
 
 " She broke off abruptly. I was only about to 
 make a casual remark about the marquis, but I 
 saw that she suspected him of having played into 
 my hands against her. It was a lucky hit and I 
 determined to take advantage of it. I pretended 
 to be much chagrined over my heedlessness, tak- 
 ing care, however, to confirm her suspicions by 
 words. 
 
 " * I beg of you, madame,' I said earnestly, * not 
 to conclude that the marquis is the instigator of 
 my proceedings. Whatever assistance he has 
 rendered me, I could have acted with equal cer- 
 tainty quite independently of him. His informa- 
 tion has been of the smallest importance merely 
 substantiative, in no sense initiatory. It was with 
 difficulty * 
 
 a t 
 
 The wretch ! the miserable beggar I ' 
 screamed madame, as she stormed up and down 
 the room in a passion which threatened the furni- 
 ture. * That is what he meant by telling me he
 
 Marcel Levignet 205 
 
 could do without me! That is why, for the past 
 month, he has failed to meet his obligation to me 1 
 He owes me fifty thousand francs, and he thinks 
 to get out of paying it by selling me to the police ! 
 But I know how to settle with vermin of his breed ! 
 He will play the pious, will he! I'll drive him 
 into the sewer ! I'll I'll ' 
 
 " She stopped in front of me with sudden con- 
 centration. 
 
 " * M. Levignet, you might have threatened me 
 till the devil came to fetch you, and I should have 
 defied you. I am secure in my position. No one 
 who can say a word to injure me has either the 
 courage or the impudence to go into court jn. wit- 
 ness against me. As for documents nothing I 
 have can incriminate me \ only fear your courts 
 because an expose would spoil my business don't 
 flatter yourself that I have any dread of a prison. 
 You haven't built the prison yet into which I can 
 be locked. I am not afraid of you. I don't care 
 who your client may be. The worst that can be 
 said of me is that I have made it convenient for 
 persons to follow their inclinations. My clients 
 are only too glad to keep silent, since to speak is 
 to confess their own infamy. But you have the 
 power to annoy me to injure my prospects to 
 rob me of social advantages and this miserable 
 marquis the dog! if I give you the documents 
 you want, will you withdraw with your police and
 
 206 Marcel Levignet 
 
 leave me in peace to settle with this scorpion, de 
 Fonteville ? ' 
 
 " * Madame, it will give me great pleasure to 
 stand aloof and watch the play of your genius.' 
 
 " * Come, then.' 
 
 " Madame Clifton crossed the room to one of 
 the brocaded satin panels with which the walls 
 were heavily wainscoted, pressed one of the 
 rosettes, and the panel flung open. She directed 
 me to enter, and I found myself at the head of a 
 narrow winding staircase. Madame followed me 
 immediately, closing the panel behind her and we 
 descended the stairs, our way being lighted by the 
 candle madame had brought from the room. The 
 stairway led down to the ground floor and ter- 
 minated in a small, square room that had the 
 appearance of a cellar for bottled goods, with no 
 other visible means of entrance or egress from the 
 stairs. But madame lifted a bottle from one of 
 the shelf-racks against the wall, thrust her hand 
 into the space, pressed a spring and the next 
 moment the series of shelves with their bottles 
 opened like a door disclosing the entrance to a dark 
 passage. I am not without caution and I hesitated 
 to step into a dungeon that might, for anything I 
 could see to the contrary, be the mouth of a bot- 
 tomless pit. Madame gave a little scornful laugh, 
 made an impertinent jest in contempt of my cour- 
 age, and touched a lever. The passage was at
 
 Marcel Levignet 207 
 
 once flooded with electric light and, instead of a 
 dark, chilled tunnel, I found a well-carpeted, 
 prettily ornamented corridor, the walls of which 
 were covered with really artistic, though not 
 scrupulously chaste frescoes. We went along this 
 passage, which I did not doubt was the * secret 
 passage ' for the distance of fifty or sixty yards, 
 and came to what seemed to be a dead wall, on 
 which, as a part of the fresco scheme, was painted 
 a satyr who seemed to mock us with libidinous 
 leer. But this wall gave way to the magic of 
 madame's touch, and after mounting stairs similar 
 to those by which we had descended, and passing 
 two other secret panels, we came into a charming 
 boudoir that I saw at a glance must be madame's 
 official cabinet. There is nothing like the pursuit 
 of vice to sharpen ingenuity, my dear Summerville. 
 I venture to say that there is not in all Paris a 
 more cleverly devised system of secrecy than that 
 which Madame Clifton has provided for the se- 
 curity of her aristocratic clientele. I could not 
 withhold from her an expression of my admiration. 
 I gave it as my opinion that petticoats alone pre- 
 vented her becoming the nonpareil of prime min- 
 isters. 
 
 " 'I should think, monsieur,' she rejoined with 
 a misprising smile, ' that most of our ministers 
 only laid aside petticoats during their term of 
 office.'
 
 2o8 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " I, myself, have so incjifferent a regard for 
 the men who undertake our government, that I 
 chose to take her statement seriously; but, as I was 
 eager to get my fingers on the secret archives of the 
 establishment, I refrained from saying some good 
 things that popped into my mind, and reminded 
 her that time was pressing us to haste. 
 
 " After again demanding of me a promise not 
 to molest her when she had served my purpose, 
 Madame Clifton opened what had seemed to be 
 an integral part of the marble mantelpiece and 
 took from the cache a considerable bundle of care- 
 fully tied papers. Giving this packet to me, she 
 said: 
 
 " * These papers are all endorsed on the back 
 with the names of the persons to whom they relate, 
 so that you will have no excuse for looking into 
 any other than the one you are after. Take the 
 one you want without dwelling too much on the 
 endorsement of the others.' 
 
 " ' Madame, you may trust me not to see more 
 than is necessary.' 
 
 " I undid the packet and began looking over 
 the papers. Mon Dieul my friend, what mater- 
 ial for the front page of my paper! The revolu- 
 tion of '93 did not overturn France half as effec- 
 tually as those neatly endorsed papers could 
 bouleverser Paris under journalistic impulsion. I 
 uttered an exclamation of astonishment.
 
 Marcel Levignet 209 
 
 ' Madame,' I exclaimed in undisguised ad- 
 miration, * you hold all Paris in the palm of your 
 hand/ 
 
 " She laughed appreciatively, but said rebuk- 
 ingly, * Please confine your attention to the im- 
 mediate object of your search.' 
 
 " Even as she spoke my eye lighted on the name 
 that sent a quiver through my nerves. It sud- 
 denly, and for the first time, occurred to me that 
 by taking the papers, I would by their very 
 absence reveal to her the case in which I was inter- 
 ested. I passed by the particular paper and ner- 
 vously turned over the others, while I tried to 
 think of a plan to circumvent her. Suddenly the 
 idea came to me. I put the papers together in a 
 pile, and turned to look threateningly at her. 
 
 " ' Madame, the document for which I seek is 
 not in this collection. You are trifling with me. 
 I demand to see the others.' 
 
 " 4 There are no others, I assure you, M. 
 Levignet.' 
 
 " * I am not to be deceived, madame,' I said, in 
 well-simulated anger. ' There are barely ten 
 minutes left to you in which to comply with my 
 demand. If you delay, you will be a prisoner, and 
 my police will find the missing documents, if we 
 have to demolish the two buildings, brick by brick 
 to find the hiding-place. And let me tell you, 
 madame, that you are sadly mistaken in the as-
 
 210 Marcel Levignet 
 
 sumption that I have no evidence of your criminal 
 guilt. If you go from this house in my custody 
 you will pass the rest of your life in a prison.' 
 
 " I contrived, as I spoke, to take from my pocket 
 the phial of chloroform, which you know I am 
 never without, and, employing angry movements to 
 mask my actions, I saturated my handkerchief with 
 the liquid. When, therefore, she came hurrying 
 after me as I went toward a window, and began 
 earnestly protesting her good faith, I was ready 
 for her. I threw my arm about her neck, drew 
 her head tight against my breast and, in spite of 
 her furious struggles, held the wet handkerchief to 
 her mouth and nose until she was soothed into 
 docility. I did not relax my devotion to her be- 
 fore I had persuaded her to the most charming 
 complacency, and placed her decorously and com- 
 fortably on a divan. I then took up the packet 
 of papers, wrapped it in the folds of the domino 
 which I had removed, closed the door to the 
 cache, set the room in order, opened the only door 
 to the boudoir and went out. I soon found the 
 main stairway, and went down. There was a dim 
 light in the hall and, nodding asleep in a chair in 
 the vestibule, was a lackey. I tried the front door, 
 but could not open it. I roused the lackey. 
 
 " * Quick 1 open the door. Madame is taken 
 suddenly ill in her boudoir. I am going for a phy- 
 sician. Send someone to her at once.'
 
 Marcel Levignet 2 1 1 
 
 ' The fellow, wakened from his sleep in such 
 an imperious manner, was confused and alarmed. 
 Babbling some question as to the nature of 
 madame's illness, to which I impatiently replied, 
 he opened the door and I rushed out, bare-headed, 
 hugging the domino in my arms, filled with the 
 keen, exulting joy of a gamin safely escaping from 
 the consequences of a successful prank. I flung my- 
 self, laughing, into the first cab I came upon, drove 
 to my office and in the seclusion of my sanctum 
 opened my precious bundle of extraordinary docu- 
 ments. 
 
 " Ah, Summerville I Summerville ! You have 
 imagination; you are not without sentiment. I 
 take one of the number tremblingly in my hand. 
 I look it through. It is all complete. The dates 
 the facts two comprising letters in a dear 
 handwriting piteous letters letters to fill the 
 eyes with tears! In a minute they are ablaze 
 the flames blot them into ashes black, crisp ashes 
 that crackle between my fingers that clutch and 
 crumble them into nothingness ! Ashes that I toss 
 into the air, and laugh laugh like a madman as 
 they descend upon me, sprinkling my hair and my 
 beard, falling about me like a black rain through 
 which the first light of the morning streams so that 
 I fancy a transfiguration a soul rising clear and 
 pure and luminous out of the murk and deathli- 
 ness! You understand I you understand, my
 
 212 Marcel Levignet 
 
 friend ! Fill my glass and yours. Let us drink ! 
 Ah, let us drink! You know to whom. 'Toin- 
 ette! 'Toinette!" 
 
 He emptied the full glass at a gulp, and rose to 
 his feet. 
 
 In moments of joyous enthusiasm like this, there 
 is an indefinable beauty in Levignet's face a 
 spiritual something a childish innocence, one 
 might say, that thrills friendship into affection. I 
 take it as an evidence of some merit in me that I 
 loved Levignet as he stood there, the down-glow 
 of the light making a sort of halo about his fine 
 head as it was reflected from the mass of his whit- 
 ening hair. 
 
 " I must be off I My time is too valuable to 
 fling away on you. I have things to do." 
 
 " I congratulate you on having done with the 
 Clifton, at any rate." 
 
 "Done with her!" Levignet exclaimed, with 
 quick transition to passionate vehemence. " I 
 have but begun with her. I shall not have done 
 with her until I see her " 
 
 He stopped in the midst of his speech, with his 
 hand outstretched, and a singular change came 
 over his face. A look of wonderment and horror 
 a fearsome, intense scrutiny, a fixity of regard 
 like one gazing spellbound at something as dread- 
 ful as it is fascinating. It lasted but a minute, and 
 he drew his hand over his eyes slowly, as he said
 
 Marcel Levignet 213 
 
 in a tone in which there was an odd mixture of awe 
 and levity: 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! how curious ! Do you know, 
 Summerville, I had a vision as vivid as reality, in 
 which I saw Madame Clifton bound to a stake and 
 myself holding a lighted torch to the fagots piled 
 around her. I wonder, if I would do such a 
 thing?" 
 
 He laughed and held out his hand to me. 
 
 " Well, good-bye. Fortunately we have 
 abolished the stake in civilised countries. You 
 Americans have the surviving monoply. It isn't 
 likely that I shall have to pursue Madame Clifton 
 to your country. I'll see you again within twenty- 
 four hours." 
 
 I followed him into the hall, but he forbade me 
 going down the stairs with him. As we parted, 
 I asked the question with which my curiosity was 
 piqued. 
 
 " Did you burn all the documents you cap- 
 tured?" ' 
 
 He laughed, and went down several steps before 
 looking over his shoulder at me to reply crypti- 
 cally : 
 
 " I could have my pick of Cabinet portfolios to- 
 morrow if I had not lost my taste for politics."
 
 XXVII 
 
 E T IGNET went directly home on leaving me, 
 and was not greatly surprised to find the 
 carriage of de Fonteville standing in front 
 of his door. On entering the house, he was in- 
 formed by Suzel that not only de Fonteville, but 
 Madame Clifton also was waiting to see him. 
 
 " For the first time in my life," Levignet said 
 laughingly, in relating the matter to me, " I felt 
 a sort of trepidation on entering my own salon. I 
 should have welcomed either of them alone, but 
 the two in combination promised me a bad quarter 
 of an hour." 
 
 There is but one person in the world who would 
 presume to charge Levignet with timidity, and that 
 person is Levignet himself. 
 
 He advanced into the room, affably saluting his 
 unfriendly guests in quiet enjoyment of the con- 
 sciousness that he had not lost in their last en- 
 counter. Madame and the Marquis, who had 
 been sitting at opposite ends of the room, rose as 
 he entered. 
 
 " Do I owe the honour of this visit to the fact 
 that you have come to return me my hat? " asked 
 Levignet, to set the ball rolling, as he expressed 
 it to me. 
 
 He expected an explosion, but the Marquis was 
 214
 
 Marcel Levignet 215 
 
 keyed to diplomatic repression and spoke by the 
 book. 
 
 " Madame Clifton is under the impression, M. 
 Levignet, that you charge me with having con- 
 spired with you to her injury." 
 
 " Madame Clifton does little credit to my judg- 
 ment in the selection of confederates, Monsieur le 
 Marquis," said Levignet, bowing. 
 
 " You deny that you named him as one of those 
 who were to appear against me 1 " Madame Clif- 
 ton interjected hotly. 
 
 " I admit that you jumped to a conclusion, 
 madame, and that I took advantage of your mis- 
 take to further my interests. It was you who ac- 
 cused the Marquis of perfidy, not I." 
 
 Madame Clifton, already convinced, no doubt, 
 by the Marquis that she had been befooled by 
 Levignet and her own impetuous temper, was the 
 more infuriated against Levignet for the knowl- 
 edge that she had been so easily cheated. 
 
 " Let that be as it may, you brutally assaulted 
 me, chloroformed and robbed me! We come to 
 demand the restitution of these papers! And you 
 shall pay for the outrage 1 " 
 
 " Has madame has the Marquis," Levignet 
 bowed from one to the other as he spoke, " suffi- 
 ciently considered the matter? Does it seem 
 likely that I will restore what I took infinite pains 
 and much risk to secure ? "
 
 216 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " That has been considered, monsieur," said the 
 Marquis briefly. 
 
 " Then I assume that madame and the Marquis 
 count on something surer than persuasion for a re- 
 covery of the property ? " 
 
 " Emphatically," said Madame Clifton, in a 
 tone suited to the word. 
 
 " The alternative to compliance on my part is 
 force on yours, I may venture to suggest, Mar- 
 quis?" 
 
 " Precisely, M. Levignet." 
 
 Levignet smiled, made an amusingly deprecatory 
 gesture, and sat down. 
 
 "Very well, Marquis; we may as well begin 
 with the alternative. I am quite at your disposal." 
 
 Madame Clifton spoke out sharply, imperiously. 
 
 "Gaspard!" 
 
 One of her servants, a lusty fellow dressed in 
 the livery of a footman, stepped from a curtained 
 corner of the room. 
 
 " Upon my word ! " said Levignet, " I did not 
 know that my salon lent itself so capitally to am- 
 buscades. Are there others, M. le Marquis ? " 
 
 " One other, M. Levignet, to prevent the intru- 
 sion of your housekeeper." 
 
 ' You may as well dismiss him, or call him to 
 your service here, since it is a prime virtue of my 
 excellent Suzel never to intrude. You propose, 
 M. le Marquis "
 
 Marcel Levignet 217 
 
 " Will you deliver up the papers you stole from 
 madame? " 
 
 " I have not yet finished the perusal of them, 
 Marquis." 
 
 The Marquis drew a pistol from his pocket and 
 presented it at Levignet as Madame Clifton ad- 
 dressed the servant. 
 
 " Tie him in the chair, Gaspard." 
 
 " You can avoid accident by submitting quietly, 
 monsieur," said the Marquis. 
 
 " Give yourself no concern, Marquis. I am a 
 patron of the Gaiete. I have a taste for opera 
 bouffe. To be trussed in my own armchair in the 
 quiet of my own salon for the entertainment of a 
 lady of madame's social distinction and a gentle- 
 man of the Marquis de Fonteville's august lineage, 
 is such delightful fooling that I shall recommend 
 it to my friend Aubert for treatment. You came 
 remarkably well prepared for amateurs, I give you 
 my word ! " 
 
 Levignet suffered himself to be bound without 
 resistance, and the Marquis returned the pistol to 
 his pocket. 
 
 " It amuses you, does it ! " exclaimed Madame 
 Clifton, as Levignet continued to jest, and ad- 
 vanced upon him with a dog-whip in her hand. 
 " You shall have the full benefit of the humour." 
 
 She struck him a number of sharp blows about 
 the arms and shoulders, but as he only laughed at
 
 2i8 Marcel Levignet 
 
 her, she savagely changed her tactics and began 
 viciously lashing his head and face, one of the 
 blows inflicting a wound on the cheek from which 
 the blood flowed. 
 
 " Will you not try your hand at it, Marquis? " 
 said Levignet. " Or are you, too, only a lackey 
 to stand idly looking on in envy of your mistress? 
 Come; be equal to the name you use. Do some- 
 thing worthy of a Nero. Even the last and low- 
 est of the de Fonteville's should not fear to strike 
 a man bound as securely as I am." 
 
 " That is true," said the Marquis, and going up 
 to Madame Clifton, who was panting from her 
 exertion and fury, took the whip from her hand 
 and struck Levignet twice over the mouth with it. 
 
 He would have struck again, but the fellow 
 Gaspard caught his arm and snatched away the 
 whip. 
 
 " I did not agree to that, Monsieur le Mar- 
 quis," he said. " My father was M. Levignet's 
 comrade at Sedan." 
 
 " Thank you, friend Gaspard; I shall remember, 
 you. Marquis, you owed me a trifle of money. 
 Those two blows have wiped out that obligation 
 and left me heavily your debtor. It is a way with 
 the Levignets never to leave a debt unpaid." 
 
 The Marquis, instead of being further enraged 
 by the interference of the lackey, seemed to have 
 been brought to his senses by it. That he had
 
 Marcel Levignet 219 
 
 struck Levignet in a sort of unconscious frenzy 
 was evident in his shamefacedly exculpatory 
 words, "It was the sight of the blood"; and it 
 was the general opinion in Paris that there was 
 something of a de Sade in this decadent Marquis. 
 
 He turned suddenly to Madame Clifton, who 
 stood in smiling enjoyment of Levignet's deplor- 
 able plight and said roughly: 
 
 " Let's get about our business." 
 
 They started together for the door. 
 
 " If," said Levignet indifferently, " your busi- 
 ness is to ransack my house for those papers, it will 
 prove a waste of your energies." 
 
 " The man is a liar by profession," exclaimed 
 madame, urging on the Marquis, who was inclined 
 to believe Levignet's statement. 
 
 " You can easily satisfy yourself that I do not 
 lie. There is a telephone in my little work-room 
 first door to the left as you go out. Call up the 
 Prefect of Police. Ask him if I left a sealed packet 
 in his charge this morning." 
 
 " Bah ! a trick ! a subterfuge ! If he left a 
 packet with the Prefect, that is the best of reasons 
 why we should look for the packet here." 
 
 She again urged the doubtful Marquis toward 
 the door. 
 
 " Suzel will tell you, Marquis, that this my first 
 appearance in the house since I left it in your com- 
 pany. The papers are in the hands of the prefect,
 
 220 Marcel Levignet 
 
 together with a memorandum as to when and how 
 he is to use them." 
 
 " Levignet," declared Madame Clifton, coming 
 in front of him, " you may as well understand me. 
 You are not dealing with one of your bourgeois 
 imbeciles. You are in my power, and I'll use that 
 power even to the extent of putting you forever out 
 of the way, if necessary. Now, mark my words. 
 I shall not leave this house without those papers 
 or you. It is past midnight. The street is de- 
 serted. There is no one but your crazy old house- 
 keeper from whom you can hope for assistance. 
 Very well. If you do not deliver those papers you 
 will be gagged and put bound into my carriage and 
 taken to my house. You know something of the 
 conveniences there for affairs that require privacy. 
 You will be my prisoner," then, bending down so 
 that the lackey could not hear the final words, 
 hissed into his ear " until you disappear. You 
 understand? Disappear! What is your deci- 
 sion ? " she asked aloud, as she stood erect, regard- 
 ing him with a look of malicious satisfaction. 
 
 " Madame," Levignet answered, " I have so 
 great an opinion of your audacious cleverness that 
 I should not presume to match my own small 
 ability against it. Therefore, I took the precau- 
 tion to fortify my weakness. I had wit enough to 
 anticipate that you would take prompt action to 
 avenge the slight I put upon you last night. I
 
 Marcel Levignet 221 
 
 could not foresee what would be your plan of re- 
 prisal, but I imagined that my life might be in 
 danger at the hands of some miscreant who, for a 
 few francs, would cheerfully crack my skull or per- 
 forate my breast; and I knew that my private 
 apartments are not proof against the burglar 
 brotherhood. So I lost no time in putting into 
 the hands of my friend, the Prefect, the papers you 
 graciously allowed me to take and a moment of 
 patience, dear madame the memorandum of 
 which you have not done me the honour to take 
 account. That memorandum, Marquis," Levignet 
 continued, turning to de Fonteville as if the matter 
 were of especial interest to him, " while it cannot 
 protect me from the hand of an assassin, will cer- 
 tainly provide a handsome public compensation for 
 my death. If once in every twenty- four hours, 
 namely, at ten o'clock in the morning, I do not 
 personally assure my friend the Prefect that my 
 vitality still has a market value, he will break the 
 seal of the packet and acquaint himself with its 
 contents. The first thing that will greet his eye 
 is a composition of my own, in which, madame, 
 in which, Marquis, I have endeavoured in my 
 imperfect way to do justice to your respective 
 merits. I am not an artist in the literary analysis 
 of character, but my friend the Prefect is not ex- 
 igent of style if the matter be instructive." 
 
 " I do not believe a word the shuffler has said,
 
 222 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Marquis; it is a poor invention to cheat us." She 
 took hold of his arm. " Let us begin." 
 
 14 But if it should be true? " objected the Mar- 
 quis. 
 
 " Five minutes at the telephone will decide the 
 point," said Levignet. " If you will bear me into 
 the room, I will put questions to the Prefect and 
 you yourself may receive the answers." 
 
 "You devil!" exclaimed Madame Clifton, in 
 a burst of rage that proved how thoroughly she 
 was convinced of the truth of Levignet's statement. 
 " What do you intend doing with those papers? " 
 
 " Chance must be my teacher as she has ever 
 been my friend." 
 
 " Well, then, what is the price you demand for 
 the return of my property? " 
 
 " More, madame, than you will care to pay." 
 
 " Name the figures." 
 
 " It cannot be stated in figures." 
 
 " I think we can gain nothing by lingering here," 
 said de Fonteville. 
 
 " Nor by taking me with you," Levignet sup- 
 plemented. 
 
 De Fonteville took from his breast pocket a flexi- 
 ble leather letter case, and produced from it a 
 cheque. As he unfolded it, he said, 
 
 ' You gave me a cheque last night, M. Le- 
 vignet." 
 
 " I did," assented Levignet.
 
 Marcel Levignet 223 
 
 " I received it in good faith; I regret to find it 
 was not given in the same spirit." 
 
 " I don't understand you, Marquis." 
 
 " Payment was refused at the bank this morn- 
 ing, on the ground that the signature is not gen- 
 uine." He held the cheque before Levignet, folded 
 in a way to display the signature only. 
 
 " That is my signature, Marquis. I don't un- 
 derstand why it was questioned." 
 
 " Look at it attentively. You are sure it is 
 quite in your usual style of writing your name to 
 cheques? " 
 
 "Absolutely. There was some mistake. Pos- 
 sibly the cashier " 
 
 "You positively identify the cheque?" 
 
 "The signature, yes; I do not see the face of 
 the cheque." 
 
 "There is nothing wrong with the signature? " 
 
 " As I have said, Marquis, it is my signature. 
 You need have no scruples to present it again. I 
 assure you it will be honoured." 
 
 " Possibly," said the Marquis, with apparent 
 unconcern, " the body of the cheque did not strike 
 the cashier as being in your familiar hand." He 
 held the cheque fully before Levignet's eyes. 
 
 " The handwriting is undoubtedly mine, Mar- 
 quis. No, by the Virgin, it is not 1 " Levignet 
 cried with sudden energy. " The cheque I gave 
 you was for ten thousand francs. This calls for
 
 224 Marcel Levignet 
 
 one hundred thousand! It is a forgery an 
 abominable forgery ! " 
 
 " Pardon me, monsieur," said de Fonteville, 
 coolly refolding the cheque and tucking it into a 
 pocket of the leather case. " You have assured me 
 of its genuineness." He smiled, mockingly exultant. 
 
 " You had not, then, really presented it at the 
 bank?" 
 
 " No, monsieur. I am now satisfied to make 
 the experiment." 
 
 " The person who tenders that cheque for pay- 
 ment will be arrested on the spot." 
 
 " Naturally, if the bank be notified in time. It 
 is necessary to provide against that, monsieur. 
 You are bound securely enough. All that is 
 wanting is a gag. Gaspard, hand me the scarf 
 from that table. I think we may arrange for 
 your silence for twelve hours or so." 
 
 " You forget, Marquis, that if I am not at the 
 Prefecture at ten o'clock to-morrow morning, that 
 packet will be opened and the police will " 
 
 " I must take that risk, monsieur." 
 
 "Yes; we will take that risk, Monsieur Le- 
 vignet," said madame, who had listened to the con- 
 versation with an occasional chuckle, evidently 
 divining the Marquis' purpose more readily than 
 Levignet was able to penetrate it. 
 
 " One word, Marquis," urged Levignet, as the 
 scarf was brought against his mouth.
 
 Marcel Levignet 225 
 
 " Our time is limited, monsieur," said the Mar- 
 quis, proceeding with his task. " Sorry not to 
 oblige you with further talk, but the conference 
 is over. Call Henri," he directed Gaspard, who 
 opened the door and beckoned Henri in from the 
 hall. 
 
 '" What have you done with the old woman? " 
 " She is locked in her room, M. le Marquis." 
 " Very well. There, monsieur, I think you are 
 secure for the night, and I hope you will have 
 pleasant dreams. Madame, I am at your service. 
 Gaspard, you will turn out lights and close doors 
 after us. Good-night, Monsieur Levignet." 
 
 Madame Clifton took his arm and they went 
 out laughing. Levignet hoped for something 
 from Gaspard, but the fellow silently executed his 
 orders, and with Henri followed their mistress, 
 slamming the front door behind them, and pres- 
 ently the carriage rolled away, the clip-clop of 
 the horses' feet on the asphalt seeming to mock 
 Levignet as he listened to its gradual subsidence.
 
 XVIII 
 
 FINDING his efforts to release himself un- 
 availing, Levignet philosophically resigned 
 himself to the painful waiting for deliver- 
 ance. He began reviewing the incidents and talk 
 of the past half hour, greatly out of humour with 
 himself and humiliatingly aware that he had 
 allowed himself, stupidly as he felt, to be beaten 
 at every point. But he hugged as a consolation 
 the certainty that if he could not get to the bank 
 in time to stop payment of the forged cheque, 
 neither could he be at the Prefecture to prevent 
 the opening of the packet and the consequent 
 operations of the police against Madame Clifton 
 and the Marquis. He flattered himself that the pair 
 had overreached themselves and were really play- 
 ing into his hand after all. He laughed in spite 
 of his present discomfiture as he thought of the 
 care he had taken in his " composition " to make 
 it impossible for Madame Clifton to evade the de- 
 tectives by any such trick as the disguise she had 
 assumed when she was hiding with 'Toinette to 
 escape from the supposed danger of the Chartier 
 affair. Fate has a droll way of working out her 
 vengeance. The mercenary greed of the Mar- 
 
 226
 
 Marcel Levignet 227 
 
 quis was to be the means of terminating the career 
 of Madame Clifton, and they were both stepping 
 into the trap they had set for themselves! Le- 
 vignet was beginning to enjoy his situation, not- 
 withstanding his physical aches and pains, when a 
 sudden flash of intelligence dispersed his rosy 
 fancies. 
 
 " Fool that I am ! " He writhed in his bonds 
 and tried repeatedly to cry out, although the thick 
 folds of the scarf converted the sounds into a series 
 of frantic groans. 
 
 It was all clear to him now. The Marquis had 
 abandoned his criminal intention of presenting the 
 forged cheque for payment. He had been so par- 
 ticular in questioning Levignet as to the apparent 
 genuineness of the signature and writing for quite 
 another purpose ! His new scheme was to forge 
 an order on the Prefect for the delivery of the 
 packet to bearer ! There could be no doubt about 
 that. In the morning, even to-night, the order 
 would be presented, the Prefect, not having been 
 instructed to the contrary, would see no good rea- 
 son for ignoring the demand, which would doubt- 
 less declare that an urgent need of the packet had 
 arisen, the documents would be surrendered, and 
 Levignet's hold on Madame Clifton would not 
 only be gone, but that crafty woman would dis- 
 cover from the missing papers in whose interest 
 Levignet had been working! Madame's fear
 
 22? Marcel Levignet 
 
 would be excited. She might divine the fact that 
 Levignet was informed of the Chartier affair and 
 her connection with it! She might imagine that 
 a police investigation had been instituted! To 
 protect herself she might volunteer state's evi- 
 dence, and 'Toinette would be " 
 
 Levignet tugged fiercely, desperately at his 
 fastenings, the arms of the stout chair cracking 
 under his efforts, but resisting the strain. He 
 ground his teeth into the folds of the scarf to 
 gnaw through them; raging to think that he had 
 suffered himself to be bound instead of grappling 
 with his assailants; impotently cursing the folly 
 that led him to take a jocular view of the initial 
 incident, raging and struggling for hours as it 
 seemed, until finally, through sheer exhaustion of 
 mind and body, he sank into a lethargy that was 
 succeeded by complete unconsciousness. 
 
 When he awakened, Suzel, strangely solemn and 
 mechanical, was loosening the scarf from his 
 mouth. 
 
 As soon as he could speak, he demanded, 
 
 "What time is it?" 
 
 " It is mid-day, monsieur," Suzel replied 
 sullenly. 
 
 "Mid-day! Loosen me! Loosen me! Help 
 me to the telephone. Don't wait to untie the cord. 
 Take the knife from my pocket. Cut me free. 
 Haste, woman ! haste ! "
 
 Marcel Levignet 229 
 
 Suzel obeyed apathetically, without hurrying, 
 and in silence. Levignet stormed at her, but she 
 made no reply. He thought to ask how she had 
 escaped from her room to come to him why she 
 had not come sooner; but she only muttered, 
 making no intelligible answer. When she had 
 liberated him, she assisted him to the telephone, 
 asking no questions, indifferent, listless. He called 
 up the Prefect, inveighing against delay, Suzel 
 standing motionless and mute, but regarding him 
 steadily with a curious, indefinable expression in 
 her dim shadowy eyes. There was a tinkle at the 
 telephone. The Prefect? Yes. And the packet 
 left in his charge by M. Levignet? It was de- 
 livered to the special messenger who came with M. 
 Levignet's order four hours ago. 
 
 Levignet turned and moved away rapidly but 
 unsteadily toward the door, stumbled over a chair 
 and fell. Suzel helped him to his feet, expressing 
 no sympathy, showing no concern. 
 
 " I must go at once, Suzel. Call a cab." 
 
 " Monsieur's face and clothes are covered with 
 blood. Monsieur has not eaten." 
 
 "True. I had forgot. I'll go to my room. 
 You can call the cab and prepare me a cup of 
 coffee while I am getting ready." 
 
 As he came down the stairs a few minutes later, 
 Suzel was returning from the front door with a 
 letter just delivered by hand.
 
 230 Marcel Levignet 
 
 She gave the letter to Levignet, saying, 
 " Monsieur's coffee is ready." 
 Levignet opened the letter, which was unsigned, 
 and read, 
 
 " Monsieur Levignet is informed that the stolen papers 
 have been recovered, with the exception of one set. That 
 exception reveals the object of the theft. The tables are 
 turned. M. Levignet doubtless has more than a profes- 
 sional interest in his client, but he has made a false play, 
 and exposed his game. Let him beware. The writer will 
 not hesitate to speak if menaced by a word or sign. M. 
 Levignet is fined one hundred thousand francs for his 
 temerity." 
 
 Levignet drew a breath of relief. Though he 
 felt a deep chagrin in his discomfiture, there was 
 some palliation in the opinion that for the present, 
 at least, he had nothing to apprehend from Ma- 
 dame Clifton that would be to the injury of 
 'Toinette. It at once irritated and comforted him 
 to perceive from the letter that Madame regarded 
 her position as being strengthened rather than 
 impaired by the turn of affairs. A second reading 
 of the laconic lines fixed his attention on the final 
 sentence which he had not considered at first. He 
 was reminded of the forged cheque, and hurried 
 anxiously to the telephone to communicate with his 
 bank, having a premonition that the money had
 
 Marcel Levignet 231 
 
 already been drawn. His fears were confirmed. 
 The cheque had been presented and paid. 
 
 "Was there anything wrong with it?" came 
 the inquiry. 
 
 " No no nothing," Levignet returned, " but 
 stop any other cheque presented in my name until 
 I can confer with you." 
 
 Robbed of one hundred thousand francs by an 
 egregiously impudent forgery and afraid to de- 
 nounce the crime! The sting of mortified self- 
 esteem was more painful than the fact that he had 
 been defrauded of so important a sum. He went 
 into the breakfast-room the object of his own con- 
 temptuous censure, and sat down grimly to his 
 rolls and coffee. The spirit-lamp was still burning 
 under the coffee-pot, and before extinguishing it 
 he held the letter to the flame, watched the paper 
 burn, and dropped the curled cinder into a dish. 
 He put the cap on the spirit-lamp. 
 
 " Marcel Levignet, you are a fool." 
 
 He found himself hungry. He ate with eager- 
 ness, and with his second cup of coffee half finished 
 he rang the handbell for more rolls. As if she 
 were in waiting for the signal, Suzel came at once 
 into the room, but, instead of the trim house dress, 
 her thin figure was clad in the dark stuff dress she 
 only wore for state excursions into the street; on 
 her head was the old-fashioned, close-fitting colour- 
 less bonnet, tied with huge ribbons of faded black,
 
 232 Marcel Levignet 
 
 and, grasped with both hands, she held in front of 
 her the brown canvas bag in which she had carried 
 her simple possessions when she came to take serv- 
 ice with Levignet years ago. 
 
 Levignet looked at her in astonishment as she 
 came to a standstill at the end of the table opposite 
 to him. There was something at once pathetic and 
 grotesque in her aspect, and Levignet could not 
 resist a smile as he asked sympathetically, 
 
 "What is the matter, Suzel? Where are you 
 going?" 
 
 " I do not know, monsieur. Away. That is all 
 I know." 
 
 " Away! Some one of your relatives is ill? " 
 
 " I have no relatives, monsieur." 
 
 " Then, why are you going? You do not mean 
 to say that you are leaving me ! " 
 
 " That is it, monsieur." 
 
 " Impossible ! I can't let you go, Suzel." 
 
 " It is necessary, monsieur." 
 
 "But why? Why, Suzel? You have been 
 with me these fifteen years and I have never heard 
 a complaint from you. You have always seemed 
 perfectly content happy, even; we are quite 
 used to each other's ways your work is easy 
 your wages excellent you have no other home! 
 Diable ! Suzel, what is the matter with you ? " 
 
 " It is that I have been deceived, monsieur." 
 
 " Deceived ! By whom, Suzel ? "
 
 Marcel Levignet 233 
 
 " By monsieur." 
 
 " By me ! In the name of all your saints, Suzel, 
 has that sensible old head of yours lost its 
 balance? " 
 
 " No, monsieur. It did not please the good 
 Lord to take my poor mind before He broke my 
 old heart." 
 
 " Come, Suzel. We have been friends rather 
 than master and servant. I see you are in sorrow. 
 Tell me your grief. Who knows? I may have a 
 cure for it. Come; tell me what has troubled 
 you." 
 
 " I could not make monsieur understand. I do 
 not know how to say things. I have not the 
 words. I am ignorant. I know nothing; I only 
 feel." 
 
 " Say what it is in your own way, Suzel ; I shall 
 understand. I have deceived you, you say. 
 How?" 
 
 " That is what I cannot put into words, mon- 
 sieur. When I have knelt down before the little 
 image of St. Joseph that is in my room, it is that 
 I know the good saint in his heaven is able to set 
 all things right with me." She hesitated, explor- 
 ing the empty byways of her mind for a word to 
 convey her meaning. 
 
 'Yes, Suzel; I know you have confidence in 
 the good Joseph. Eh ?" 
 
 " That is it, monsieur. And it is that I had
 
 234 Marcel Levignet 
 
 confidence in monsieur as I have confidence in St. 
 Joseph. I have loved the good saint because he 
 is holy; I have loved monsieur because I thought 
 he was the best of men better than other men 
 more wise than other men able to do with other 
 men what it pleased him to do very superior to 
 other men. I was proud to be the servant of mon- 
 sieur. It has pleased the good God to punish me 
 for my pride. He has punished me, monsieur, 
 by taking the life out of my heart." 
 
 Levignet understood her meaning. The simple 
 soul had judged him had weighed him in the 
 balance of her reverence and loyalty and found him 
 wanting. A strange sense of unworthiness, of 
 shame, troubled him, and he toyed with his coffee 
 spoon, looking down, waiting for Suzel to go on. 
 
 The old woman set her canvas bag on the floor, 
 and feeling in her pocket, drew forth a cloth 
 purse from which she took a ten-franc piece and 
 laid it on the table, talking, meanwhile, in a pas- 
 sionless, monotonous way. 
 
 " When one of the footman who came with them 
 told me, after I had let you in, that it was your 
 wish that I go to my room until you had need of 
 me, I went. I did not question. It is so with 
 me. I sat waiting till I heard the front door close 
 and the carriage drive away. I waited yet a time ; 
 then I thought ' He has forgotten,' and I go to 
 open the door. It is locked. Very well. I do not
 
 Marcel Levignet 235 
 
 question what monsieur does, and after a while I 
 go to bed. In the morning, the door is not yet 
 unlocked. I wait. After a time it is late. Very 
 late. I have work to do. I knock on the door 
 and call, but you do not answer. I wait yet a 
 long time. But there are just so many hours in 
 the day and work for each hour. I think again, 
 he has forgotten, and gone to his business. With 
 my scissors I unscrew the lock from the door. I 
 come downstairs. I go into the salon. I see 
 monsieur. Ah, God! it is as if the thunder from 
 heaven strike me. I do not know I think I died, 
 monsieur. I was dead for a long time, but I saw 
 monsieur all the time. Then I became alive again 
 but it is only a man tied in the chair what I 
 had known and loved what I had always had in 
 mind I don't know " 
 
 " Your ideal, Suzel," said Levignet, humbly. 
 
 " Maybe that. I don't know. Something was 
 gone. And my old heart, it was gone, too. That 
 is why I go away, monsieur. That is why I have 
 broken the little image of St. Joseph in my room, 
 monsieur. But I remember it was not mine. 
 Here are the ten francs to pay for it. Now I must 
 go, monsieur." 
 
 She took up her bag again and moved toward 
 the door. 
 
 " Wait, Suzel," said Levignet, rising and going 
 toward her. "You are old, friendless; you have
 
 236 Marcel Levignet 
 
 no home but this. Let us live out our days 
 
 together. If your ideal is gone, you will still find 
 
 me a good master. Stay with me." 
 
 " No, monsieur. I could not. I should always 
 
 see the mark of that woman's whip upon your 
 
 cheek, and it would make me false to the good 
 
 God at last." 
 
 " How do you know there was a whip, Suzel? " 
 " I found it on the floor. I have it in my bag. 
 
 I shall always keep it. They shall bury it with 
 
 me." 
 
 Levignet stood silent, curiously awed by this 
 droll exhibition of humiliated loyalty, and Suzel 
 passed out of the room, and presently the street 
 door closed behind her. 
 
 Levignet went to pick up the ten-franc piece from 
 the table, gazed at it long and moodily, but 
 absently; laughed; put the coin into the locket that 
 hung from his watch-guard, and brushed a tear 
 from his eye. Then, going to a mirror on the 
 wall over the fireplace, he looked at the reflection 
 of a red weal on his cheek.
 
 XXIX 
 
 I HAVE lived too long," Levignet declared 
 after recounting these incidents to me as we 
 sat in the upper verandah of a snug little 
 tavern at Suresnes that afternoon. " A man 
 should not outlive his wits. Egotism is the infalli- 
 ble sign of mental deficiency. I have become an 
 egotist. My judgment is obscured. I have been 
 guilty of letting bravado usurp the function of dis- 
 cretion. Some part of my brain is diseased 
 atrophied. What was it persuaded me to let them 
 bind me in a chair? Egotism. I was so well 
 satisfied with myself I was so well content with 
 the precautions I had taken, that I wished to deride 
 them when they thought they had me at the great- 
 est disadvantage. Egotist! Driveller! Imbecile! 
 And she the cleverest woman in Paris ! " 
 
 " You forget the Marquis' pistol." 
 
 " Pah ! A thousand to one it was not loaded. 
 If loaded, he had not the courage to fire it. That 
 was but an ingredient of the farce." 
 
 "And the lackeys?" 
 
 " Lackeys ! That ! " He snapped his fingers. 
 " Three armed Prussians have tried to make me 
 their prisoner. They are repenting in Purgatory. 
 It was neither the marquis, nor the lackeys, nor 
 the pistol that triumphed over me. It was ego- 
 
 237
 
 238 Marcel Levignet 
 
 tisnt, I tell you, the only infection of the devil 
 which neither Christianity nor medicine can anti- 
 dote. What is left to a man when he entirely con- 
 demns himself? " 
 
 " Well, to begin with, he can toss egotism out of 
 his mental windows." 
 
 "Hah! You think I have any left? I am as 
 flat in the dust as a reptile that has been crushed 
 under a hoof. I am servile to servility. When the 
 old Suzel went out of my house she took the last 
 shreds of my egotism to mend her own broken 
 pride." 
 
 "As a philosopher, dear Levignet, you know 
 that the most odious characteristic of egotism is hu- 
 mility. It is the anathema maranatha of Sham. 
 You don't mean a word of what you have said. 
 You are angry because you can hit upon no plan of 
 action. The way you have chewed your cigar to 
 a pulp is excellent proof that your Committee of 
 Ways and Means is in stormy session." 
 
 " My dear Summerville," exclaimed Levignet, 
 amused by the conceit, " you sometimes surprise 
 me by a flash of discernment. But you are right. 
 I shall find a way to win Suzel back. She will 
 weep for me when I die. I can see her now lying 
 drenched and earth-splashed on my grave." There 
 was something strange in his voice as he said this, 
 and his eyes were looking into the future. 
 
 He came back after a moment and continued :
 
 Marcel Levignet 239 
 
 " A little while ago you said I could seize the 
 Marquis as a forger. That is true. But if I did, 
 what then? I might recover something of my 
 hundred thousand francs, and clap the mannikin 
 behind the bars. But how could I do so without 
 running the risk that her history would come out 
 in the proceedings ? I could invite the scoundrelly 
 dwarf into Belgium or Swizerland to be shot at, 
 but the dastard would decline on the ground that 
 it is impossible he should put himself on a level 
 with a man who has been horsewhipped by a 
 woman. In his noble eyes I was dishonoured by 
 the lashes Madame Clifton showered on me. He 
 could not understand that his own part in that 
 affair raised me above the rank of a marquis! 
 Eh! well; what to do? What but to wait for 
 Chance to speak? I am restless impatient 
 smarting with a fire that needs to be extinguished; 
 but what can I ? I must wait wait I " 
 
 " It seems so. As we say in my country, the 
 cards are stacked against you." 
 
 " You need not remind me. It is not pleasant 
 to know that one has bungled ; it is damnable when 
 one has bungled at the expense of those he would 
 very cheerfully die to serve. Ah! I was filled 
 with the idea of clearing a viper from the path of 
 a protegee ignorant of my guardianship. I prom- 
 ised my heart the joy of avenging the wrong to 
 'Toinette and I have only roused the sleeping
 
 240 Marcel Levignet 
 
 fury exposed her to a new danger. Name of 
 Satan! I am maundering. Let us go for our 
 stroll in the Bois. It is the driving hour. We 
 may see umph 1 everyone." 
 
 " No doubt we shall get a glimpse of the Baron- 
 ess." 
 
 " I disguise nothing from you. I shall see no 
 one but her." 
 
 The season was well begun, and in these fault- 
 less afternoons the brilliancy of the gay scenes in 
 the paragon of driving parks offered a cure for the 
 most aggravated attack of doldrums. It is not in 
 the nature of man to saunter in balmy air, odor- 
 ous with the breath of spring and the young sum- 
 mer in their first caress, along avenues thronged 
 with beaming, lovely women, in costumes to rival 
 the delicate hues of the flowers, whose draperies 
 exhale the perfume of rose and violet and jas- 
 mine, and cling to his melancholy. Certainly it 
 was not in the spirit of Levignet to keep a saturnine 
 aspect in the face of beauty in graceful dalliance. 
 Before we had idly promenaded half the length of 
 the noble Avenue de Longchamps, thronged with 
 loitering carriages and strolling or lounging bevies 
 of men and women of the elegant monde and demi- 
 monde, the sparkle of zest had come into his eyes 
 and the vivacity of the jole de vivre into his speech. 
 He jested and laughed, and saluted acquaintances 
 in happy forgetfulness of mortifying disappoint-
 
 Marcel Levignet 241 
 
 ments and misadventures, reiterating his holiday 
 refrain that Paris is the Elysium of earth, and, re- 
 juvenated by mental excitement, tossed his stick 
 into the victoria trailing after us, and walked with 
 a step as springy as that of a newly-commissioned 
 subaltern on dress-parade. 
 
 " After all, Summerville, ' carpe diem ' is the 
 keynote of existence! What fools we are to 
 plague our souls with restrospects and anticipations 
 when the sum of everything is the passing mo- 
 ment ! What the deuce have we to do with yester- ! 
 day? Let the dead bury the dead. As for to- 
 morrow what doctor of the Sorbonne can give us 
 proof that there is a to-morrow? Look at that 
 turnout. What a pair of horses! What a jewel 
 of a carriage ! Nothing to surpass it in the drive. 
 And the radiant creature lolling in the cushioned 
 corner like a Cleopatra moving to the conquest of 
 an Antony, do you recognise her? " 
 
 "Oh, yes! Everyone knows the queen of the 
 half-world." 
 
 " But the imbecile tried to kill herself last week. 
 And all because the illusion of a Yesterday had 
 spun a cobweb in her silly brain ! And look at that 
 grim-visaged woman with her brace of daughters. 
 She is the wife of an ambassador, and so puffed 
 with her notions of To-morrow's dependence on 
 her that she cannot see beyond the horizon of her 
 own rotundity. She is a greater fool than our
 
 242 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Cyprian. But both are comediennes in the grand 
 burletta. We must laugh at each in her own key. 
 What a pitiful improvidence it was that the scheme 
 of Nature included no arrangement for the supply 
 and replenishment of brains! Oh, bottom of 
 Hades! That is too much I 
 
 The exclamation and brusque change of tone 
 from levity to indignation were provoked by the 
 passing of de Fonteville in a carriage with Madame 
 Clifton and the blonde Mademoiselle Dupont. 
 Had they gone past without observing Levignet it 
 is probable he was in a humour to fling a jest into 
 the air after them; but, as they came near, the 
 horses ambling at a pace little better than a walk, 
 Madame Clifton's all-surveying eye caught sight 
 of us ; she reached over and touched de Fonteville's 
 knee to direct his attention to us. 
 
 The Marquis looked, recognised Levignet, 
 nodded familiarly and began laughing, Madame 
 Clifton joining him, the two keeping their jeering 
 faces toward Levignet as they went by, he stopping 
 to glare at them as if of a mind to leap into the 
 carriage and throw the grimacing ape under the 
 wheels. Their laughter was so loud and mocking 
 that the notice of others was attracted to Levignet 
 and, without knowing why, they tittered in the thor- 
 oughly characteristic fashion of the French, whose 
 risibilities are not subject to the law of cause and 
 effect.
 
 Marcel Levignet 243 
 
 As quickly as his passion had risen, Levignet's 
 sense of the humorous reasserted itself, and he 
 laughed so heartily that the people about him de- 
 clared, " C'est un farceur! " and were rather dis- 
 appointed when he locked arms with me and we 
 resumed our promenade. 
 
 But we scrutinised approaching and passing car- 
 riages in vain. Weary of walking, we got into 
 the victoria and rapidly retraversed the fre- 
 quented, and explored the unfrequented avenues 
 without catching a glimpse of the object of Levi- 
 gnet's hungering guest. The crowd was beginning 
 to diminish, the carriages deserting the drives, for 
 fashionable Paris is punctual in matters of form, 
 and will not even linger in the Bois beyond the 
 prescribed limit of time, let vulgarly unconven- 
 tional sunsets cajole as they may. 
 
 " Avenue Bois de Boulogne," said Levignet to 
 the coachman at last, and waxed taciturn as we 
 entered the retiring procession. 
 
 When we arrived at the top of the Avenue, there 
 was a crush of vehicles that brought our own to a 
 stop. Levignet was not in the mood for waiting 
 and, though he had agreed that we should dine to- 
 gether, he stepped down from the victoria with a 
 flourish of apologetic leave-takings interlarded with 
 expletives in disparagement of the police manage- 
 ment of street traffic. 
 
 " You may abandon your carriage, Levignet, but
 
 244 Marcel Levignet 
 
 I'll be hanged if you shall desert me," I protested, 
 getting to the pavement with him. " Besides, I 
 rather counted on your paying for my dinner." 
 
 " Come along, then," said Levignet, not at all 
 displeased with my resolution to keep him in hand. 
 " But I'm not in a frame of mind to make it worth 
 your while. You may count on being bored." 
 
 We made our way among the block of car- 
 riages, at some hazard crossed to the Arc de 
 Triomphe and were making a dash for the Champs 
 filysees pavement when who should come within 
 an ace of running us down but 'Toinette and the 
 Baron ! It was only the quick action of the coach- 
 man in swerving the horses sharply to one side that 
 saved Levignet from a hurt, owing to the fact that 
 at the sight of the Baroness he had unconsciously 
 arrested his steps. 'Toinette had uttered a cry 
 of alarm and, the danger averted, ordered the 
 carriage stopped at the curb, and called to 
 Levignet : 
 
 " My dear friend, how incautious of you ! " she 
 chided, as Levignet came up. " You have given 
 me a fright from which I shall not soon recover," 
 and, Levignet offering some fatuous assurance of 
 the pleasure it would have been to him to be tram- 
 pled by that particular pair of bays, she added, 
 1 You are not to make light of a miraculous deliv- 
 erance. Come ! get in, with your companion, that 
 we may scold you as you deserve, at our leisure."
 
 Marcel Levignet 245 
 
 With an eagerness almost comical, so naive was 
 Levignet's attempt to moderate his happiness, I 
 was presented to the Baroness and the Baron, the 
 latter courteously and feelingly repeating his wife's 
 invitation to us, and in the next minute we were 
 seated opposite the couple and spinning down the 
 Avenue. 
 
 'Toinette persisted in treating the incident as if 
 it had been a casualty, and Levignet as resolutely 
 maintained the intelligent benevolence of Chance 
 in guiding his course. 
 
 " You are a fatalist, monsieur? " de Noel asked 
 smilingly. 
 
 " Not the least in the world, Baron. I do not 
 say with the Italians, * What will be, will be,' I 
 only hold that what should be must be, and that 
 the results we so commonly and erronously attrib- 
 ute to coincidence are in reality the logical out- 
 come of wise arrangement. The whole secret of 
 right action, that completely disposes of the theory 
 of coincidence, is obedience to so-called impulse, 
 which is, in fact, a supreme command." 
 
 11 1 am afraid," objected the Baron good- 
 humouredly, " that a good many of our impulses 
 would urge us into conduct unpleasantly akin to 
 folly." 
 
 " That is possible only when we debate them, or '' 
 mistake personal inclination for super-conscious 
 suggestion. The difficulty with most of us is that
 
 246 Marcel Levignet 
 
 we are cursed with the pride of intellect, and fancy 
 that our few ounces of grey matter are equal to 
 the analysis of Divinity. I am convinced that the 
 fall of man was nothing more or less than his sub- 
 stitution of reason for instinct. For example, if 
 you will permit me, I and my friend spent the 
 afternoon in the endeavour to find you in the 
 Bois " 
 
 " But we did not go to the Bois to-day," de- 
 clared 'Toinette with judicial raillery. " My hus- 
 band had business in Versailles this morning, and I 
 begged to go with him. So you see your in- 
 stinct " 
 
 " Pardon," said Levignet, interrupting her with 
 a gesture. " You are but stating my case. It was 
 reason, not instinct, that betrayed me to a waste of 
 time in the Bois. It was instinct that urged me to 
 cross the Place de 1'Etoile at the critical moment to 
 intercept your escape." 
 
 " At the risk of your life, perhaps," said 'Toin- 
 ette, with an incredulous shake of the head. " A 
 dangerous instinct, my good Levignet." 
 
 " On the contrary, one of such admirable pre- 
 cision that it can calculate its limits of activity to a 
 hair's breath." 
 
 "At any rate," de Noel said, with a smiling 
 purpose to change the conversation, and bowing to 
 include me in his invitation, " it procured us the 
 pleasure of company which I hope we may com-
 
 Marcel Levignet 247 
 
 mand for the evening. You have made yourself a 
 stranger, M. Levignet." 
 
 " It may be," Levignet replied gravely, his man- 
 ner changing to uneasiness and embarrassment, 
 " that you will wish me to be more of a stranger 
 to you and Madame the Baroness when I take my 
 leave of you. But if you will receive M. Summer- 
 ville and me thus informally, you will give me an 
 opportunity to make a statement it is important 
 that you should hear." 
 
 De Noel and 'Toinette exchanged glances of in- 
 quiry before the Baron said, in friendly sincerity: 
 
 " No statement you may have to make, M. 
 Levignet, can diminish the respect and esteem in 
 which you are held by madame and myself." 
 
 " No, indeed 1 " 'Toinette warmly added, at the 
 same time extending her hand to Levignet, who 
 clasped it with undisguised emotion. 
 
 " It will be, then, because you know that my 
 errors of judgment cannot be due to a lack of 
 devotion." 
 
 'Toinette made a flattering answer, and with 
 graceful tact immediately opened the way to light 
 talk by putting a question to me in English. My 
 response was near enough to a jest to afford an 
 excuse for a little ripple of laughter and a witticism 
 from the Baroness which the Baron followed up 
 agreeably, and if the gaiety which ensued was of 
 the forced variety, that never quite succeeds in
 
 248 Marcel Levignet 
 
 hiding constraint, the apparent result was a com- 
 plete recovery from the temporary depression 
 caused by Levignet's gloomy speech. 
 
 Though this was the first time I had met the 
 Baroness indeed, I had scarcely seen her since the 
 memorable night in the Cafe Riche when Levignet 
 told me her story my intimate knowledge of her 
 history made her seem to me an old, almost, I may 
 say, privileged acquaintance. But had the circum- 
 stances been otherwise, if, before getting into her 
 carriage I had been in ignorance of her existence, 
 the candour and charm of manner, the vivacity of 
 mind and the amiability of temper which added so 
 greatly to the fascination of her remarkable beauty 
 would have persuaded me to that tranquil freedom 
 from reserve which gives character and value to 
 human intercourse and discriminates the franchised 
 intellect from the servile, suspicious and half- 
 barbarous Boeotians who are herded under the stul- 
 tifying brand of Polite Society. 
 
 It was difficult to reconcile her frank, even ingen- 
 uous good-nature and zest, her care-free, un- 
 troubled spirit of happiness with the fact that her 
 life had been dragged through a tragedy of shame, 
 and that over her impended the shadow of a past 
 that might sweep down to her ruin. I had ex- 
 pected to see again some trace of triste memories 
 in her smile, the lurking ghost of an old horror in 
 her eyes, and detect behind her lightness the creep-
 
 Marcel Levignet 249 
 
 ing shade of a restless foreboding. But there was 
 no sign whatever of the haunting sadness that had 
 seemed an addition to her beauty when I saw her 
 first. In the months since then, fear, distrust, 
 anxiety, even recollection of unhappiness had, ap- 
 parently, been dispelled; and it was easy to see that 
 love was the necromancer.
 
 XXX 
 
 POOR Levignet! Before the evening was 
 far advanced I had come to a keen 
 sympathy with the sentiment of adoration 
 with which his eyes shone when he looked on 
 'Toinette a sentiment pathetic in its utter devo- 
 tion, for the reason that the woman who inspired 
 it was quite unaware of it, so all-excluding was 
 her love for her husband. The gratitude of her 
 heart had, indeed, built him a shrine of affection, 
 but the offerings were to " Mon bienfalteur," 
 " mon pere." Had it been suggested to her that 
 Levignet's emotion was that hunger for possession 
 which is man's love for woman, she might so 
 whimsical is the feminine sensorium have laughed 
 and tweaked his ear between her pretty thumb 
 and finger to reprove his folly, accepting his 
 passion as the natural tribute which man pays to 
 sovereign woman the mere rendering unto 
 Cassar the thing that is Caesar's. But the same 
 suggestion made to Levignet himself would have 
 been a mortal affront, so greatly had the " one 
 flower in the garden of his heart " expanded and 
 deepened in hue and fragrance in the sunshine of 
 the last few months. He had no dream of posses- 
 sion in his regard of this woman. The discrim- 
 
 250
 
 Marcel Levignet 251 
 
 ination that tempered his admiration of 'Toin- 
 ette when he first talked with me about her had been 
 swallowed up in idolatry. Like an Indian purada, 
 he had gazed so long and fixedly into the face of 
 his deity that he now believed it glorified by a 
 swathing refulgence that refined its very deformi- 
 ties into the unit of perfection. In what concerned 
 'Toinette his judgment was no longer deliberate, 
 selective. The cynical lightness that formerly 
 characterised his talk and coloured his views of life 
 had gradually softened into a sentimental quality 
 of mind that he himself described as " optimistic 
 melancholy." It was impossible to decide how 
 much of the personal equation entered into his wor- 
 ship; but I thought, as I watched the play of his 
 expression and caught the tone of his voice a num- 
 ber of times in the course of the evening, that if 
 ever man in the vigour of his years felt a self- 
 eliminating love for woman, Marcel Levignet was 
 the man. That was the conviction in my mind 
 that night, and the later events of the year make 
 it sweet to remember now that I was able to appre- 
 ciate the character of my friend. A less intimate, 
 less sympathetic acquaintance might have been ex- 
 cusable in suspecting Levignet of a feeling strongly 
 tinctured with covetousness, for it is not to be 
 denied that he evinced a fantastical, unconscious 
 kind of jealousy of de Noel, who was ever alert to 
 bestow pretty attentions and services upon his wife,
 
 252 Marcel Levignet 
 
 as eager with his gallantries as if he were a new- 
 come suitor for her hand. But I, being the only 
 one to note Levignet's conduct, saw in this jealousy 
 only the pain of the zealot who suffers when irrev- 
 erence touches even the outer garment of his per- 
 sonified saint. 
 
 " Must I banish myself to the salon? " 'Toinette 
 demanded, when the coffee was brought in ; " or 
 will you let me stay and smoke a cigarette with 
 you?" 
 
 " As you please," said de Noel, twinkling his 
 preference. 
 
 " Stay; by all means, let us continue in a state of 
 happiness," Levignet implored. " If you go, I 
 shall be too surly for the security of these gentle- 
 men. Come ; do me the honour to light a cigarette 
 from the end of mine." 
 
 " Willingly. But really I make rather a sorry 
 spectacle as a smoker. I am still a novice." 
 
 " I have found it almost impossible to teach 
 her," the Baron volunteered, chuckling reminis- 
 cently. 
 
 " I can't say I like it. But everyone is doing it." 
 
 " Yes ; cigarette-smoking is in a fair way to be- 
 come an exclusively feminine accomplishment," 
 said de Noel. " We others will have to revive the 
 snuffbox as a mark of distinction." 
 
 "You forget, Baron," I ventured, "that the 
 ladies formerly excelled in the use of that article."
 
 Marcel Levignet 253 
 
 " True ; and, the gentlemen retiring from the 
 competition, the snuffbox and the elegance that 
 went with it were banished from society. It is a ' 
 process of social evolution that, after men have be- 
 come thoroughly established in a vice, women will 
 troop in to its adoption." 
 
 " That is as it should be," Levignet asserted, as 
 he held his cigarette for 'Toinette to take a light. 
 11 Man is such an egotist that he never recognises r 
 his follies and vices until woman parades them in 
 imitation." 
 
 " That sounds very much like a rebuke of my 
 attempt to be sociable with you," 'Toinette 
 laughed. 
 
 " Not at all," protested Levignet gallantly; " it 
 was merely an acknowledgment of woman's correc- 
 tive relation to the evils and blemishes of our eccen- 
 tric system of civilisation, which only gets forward 
 by reaction. It is my theory that men cease to be ,' 
 vicious only as women tend to become so. The 
 best temperance lecture is an intoxicated woman. 
 On the faith of an old soldier, it is my opinion that 
 mankind will never appreciate the egregious folly 
 of war and the grotesque madness of making heroes 
 out of butchers of their fellow men until women 
 take up the trade and try their hand at legislation 
 by the cannon." 
 
 "That is a reflection of genius, M. Levignet," 
 'Toinette said in smiling approval, as she puffed
 
 254 Marcel Levignet 
 
 some smoke from her mouth. "If you will pro- 
 cure me a commission, I'll raise an army." 
 
 " I could nowhere find a general more certain of 
 victory, madame," 
 
 "No, no, M. Levignet," objected the Baron; 
 " we must do nothing to put an end to war as long 
 as the lower masses of humanity show such a fright- 
 ful fecundity, and while the upper classes produce 
 so many pretty gentlemen with no brain-power 
 above the military level. The great peril of our 
 time is superfluous population. Our academic 
 statesmen are trying to solve the problem by peda- 
 gogy, though the only solution is to be found in the 
 school of Mars. Europe and the world in general 
 are suffering from plethora; the remedy is the old- 
 fashioned one of bloodletting. Civilisation needs 
 nothing so much as a decimating war every two 
 years." 
 
 De Noel had spoken banteringly, but with the 
 air of half-believing what he said. 
 
 'Tomette clucked in amused protest, and re- 
 quired Levignet to bludgeon de Noel with his own 
 fallacy. 
 
 " I do not absolutely disagree with him, ma- 
 dame; for, after all, humanity is much the same as 
 rank meadowland, all the better for the sweep of 
 . the mower's scythe at convenient intervals." 
 
 "Are they not barbarians, M. Summerville ? " 
 'Toinette queried, making a drolly awkward effort
 
 Marcel Levignet 255 
 
 to fillip ^ the ash from her cigarette with the tip of 
 her little finger. 
 
 " Barbarians or sages." 
 
 " Sages to talk like that ! Bah ! " 
 
 " I confess myself a barbarian, madame," said 
 Levignet, " because I do not think that tailoring ' 
 and architecture have done much to alter our primi- 
 tive character. We have changed the habits but 
 not the nature we had as troglodytes. We are not 
 so splendidly ferocious as we were. We are not so 
 superbly muscled. We have less self-reliant cour- 
 age, less self-directing physical energy; but we are 
 no whit less brutal, less selfishly eager to tear and 
 rend and get the better of each other. We have 
 substituted craft, cunning, duplicity, hypocrisy for : 
 the claws and teeth and stone hammer with which 
 we used to settle our rivalries and terminate our 
 disputes and accomplish our desires. But we are \ 
 just as pitiless in our new way as we were in our 
 old just as determined to profit by the weakness 
 and misfortunes of our fellows just as treacher- 
 ous in our friendships where self-interest arises. 
 In short, dear madame, in spite of our laws and 
 conventions, in spite of our cooks and our tailors 
 and all the category in between, we are still as 
 savage as our pithecoid ancestors; and life is as 
 predatory and fierce and heartless and profitless 
 as it was when hairy man strove with shaggy brute 
 for the possession of a lair."
 
 256 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " Bravo, Levignet ! " exclaimed de Noel. " What 
 you say is irrefutable science. I drink my Char- 
 treuse in your honour." 
 
 " Ah, no, my dear friend, what you say is too 
 gross for slander," 'Toinette said, looking at Lev- 
 ignet as she dropped into the ash-tray the cigarette 
 she had only affected to smoke. " I do not like to 
 see you cynical I who find life beautiful so beau- 
 tiful, so sweet, that sometimes I tremble in the 
 fragrance of it, fearful of the happiness I do so 
 little deserve, fearful lest I wake suddenly from 
 the dream of it 1 It is easy to jest. We say things. 
 We have our moods, it is true. But there is a light 
 in your eyes, my friend, that gives the lie to the 
 sneer on your lips. And I who know you so much 
 better than do these others will not let you wrong 
 yourself by false report. Come, then; you speak 
 in this way because something troubles you. I have 
 seen that you are not yourself. Well, we have 
 dined. We have talked our nonsense. We may 
 be serious. What was it you meant by the remark 
 you made in the carriage? What has happened? 
 What has made you uneasy? Tell us." 
 
 The Baron put his hand on 'Toinette's arm as if 
 to caution her. 
 
 She glanced at me as she said to him, with 
 an understanding smile, in which was a tinge of 
 the sadness I fancied I saw in her eyes that night in 
 the cafe:
 
 Marcel Levignet 257 
 
 " Have no fear. I guess that M. Summerville 
 is in the confidence of our friend." 
 
 Levignet inclined his head. 
 
 " Only in a limited degree," I thought it judic- 
 ious to explain, rising from my chair as I spoke; 
 " and if M. le Baron, if Mme. le Baronne will 
 permit me to take my leave " 
 
 " Is it necessary? " 'Toinette asked of Levignet. 
 "Is it desirable?" 
 
 " M. Summerville is more trustworthy than I," 
 replied Levignet, who had surrendered to melan- 
 choly and lapsed into the gloominess of our tete-a- 
 tete at Suresnes. 
 
 " Then we shall take it as a favour if Monsieur 
 will remain." 
 
 I thanked the Baroness for her graciousness, and 
 reluctantly went to a seat in the window recess. I 
 should have been glad to escape, and I was sure, 
 too, that de Noel would have preferred to bow me 
 out ; but he seemed to regard acquiescence in 'Toin- 
 ette's will so much as a matter of course that I could 
 not profit by the slight shrug that qualified his af- 
 firmative gesture.
 
 XXXI 
 
 THERE was silence during some moments, 
 Levignet twisting his moustache ab- 
 stractedly, de Noel and 'Toinette waiting 
 expectantly. 
 
 When Levignet did speak, it was as if he were 
 talking to himself, his chin on his breast, his eyes 
 looking absently at the rug which he tapped with 
 his foot. 
 
 " I have read somewhere in Hugo, doubtless 
 of a gunner through whose carelessness a cannon 
 got loose in the gun-room of a ship, endangering 
 the lives of the crew and putting the vessel itself 
 in peril. The great gun, feeling itself free, de- 
 structive, plunged here and there with the roll of 
 the boat, battering, crushing, slaying; terrible, a 
 devil, a fury. The man grappled with the monster 
 Yes ; it was Hugo. No one but the master could 
 have described that struggle, and the triumph of 
 the man, the mastery, the chaining of the gun in 
 place. Well, you can say what happened. The 
 gunner was taken on deck, decorated and shot. 
 There is not a finer picture of exact justice in his- 
 tory. The heroism was fitly rewarded; the crim- 
 inal blunder was suitably punished. Well, I have 
 blundered as culpably as did the gunner; but I have 
 
 258
 
 Marcel Levignet 259 
 
 not, like him, retrieved my fault. You shall judge 
 me; you shall condemn me." 
 
 Levignet presented an appearance of such dejec- 
 tion that 'Toinette, leaning forward, put her hand 
 on his shoulder, to say: 
 
 " Take heart, my friend ; you speak to those who 
 love you." 
 
 " When you know what I have done, you will 
 not say that. I have forfeited your trust, and with 
 that goes your affection." 
 
 " Let us judge of that, my friend," de Noel said, 
 with a deprecatory gesture. 
 
 "Ah! you shall." 
 
 Much in the fashion of a judge reviewing the 
 conduct of a culprit he is about to condemn, Lev- 
 ignet recited the salient parts of the story he had 
 told to me, giving no softening colour to his mis- 
 chance, omitting everything favourable to himself, 
 describing Madame Clifton's use of the whip as a 
 merited chastisement, saying nothing of the money 
 of which he had been so impudently defrauded. 
 
 The Baron made frequent exclamations of aston- 
 ishment or indignation, as the various incidents 
 were rehearsed; but 'Toinette listened in silence, 
 though her eyes were eloquent enough, until he 
 ended with a reference to the defection of old Suzel 
 as the proper estimate of his forfeiture; then she 
 went to him, bent down and kissed him on the cheek 
 still marked by the stripe of the whip.
 
 2<5o Marcel Levignet 
 
 Levignet looked up. 
 
 " That is your answer to what I have said? " 
 
 " And well answered, too, my friend," declared 
 the Baron, reaching out his hand to Levignet. 
 
 '" Ah ! you humiliate me," said Levignet as he 
 took de Noel's hand. " I was better prepared for 
 your reproach." 
 
 " Then you were disloyal to our friendship," 
 'Toinette objected. 
 
 " That is true, Levignet. We have the right to 
 quarrel with you for that. But come. Let us 
 consider the matter fairly. To begin with, you 
 blame yourself extravagantly. Beyond the outrage 
 you have suffered and we must take account of 
 that no serious harm has been done. You have 
 not, as you seem to think, made the situation more 
 threatening than it was. Do you imagine the Clif- 
 ton is readier than before to expose herself in an 
 attempt to injure my wife ? Pardon me for saying 
 it, but the matter is clearer to my eyes than it has 
 been to yours for you have been blinded by a sen- 
 timental extravagance that has raised molehills to 
 mountains in your fancy. You have allowed your- 
 self to believe that 'Toinette has something to fear 
 from the Clifton " 
 
 " While that woman is alive, there is always the 
 danger that she will attempt " 
 
 " Bah ! " said de Noel, interrupting Levignet. 
 " I must persuade you to the contrary, as I long ago
 
 Marcel Levignet 261 
 
 persuaded 'Toinette herself, who had a terror of 
 coming to Paris with me, but who has found in 
 these two years that the way to dispel shadows is 
 to keep in the light. Madame Clifton! good 
 heaven ! we are as safe from molestation by her as 
 if she were buried under the Pyramids. You would 
 have seen that as clearly as I do if you had not been 
 so fearfully in love with my wife." 
 
 Levignet sat up with a jerk, his face flushing and 
 paling as he looked, startled and confused, at de 
 Noel. 
 
 " In love with your wife, Baron de Noel ! " 
 
 De Noel laughed cheerily. 
 
 "Give yourself no uneasiness, my friend; and, 
 above all, do not affront 'Toinette by denying it. 
 Mon Dieu ! Do you think, because you go blind- 
 folded yourself, that no one else can see ? " He 
 laughed again, and tapped Levignet's knee with 
 his finger. " If I were not as sure of 'Toinette's 
 heart-beats as I am of my own, I might let jealousy 
 in as a tenant of some dusty corner of my brain, 
 and what woman could be blamed for indulging a 
 weakness for that Jovian head and the soul that 
 keeps house in it? Come, come let us have the 
 smile that belongs on your lips and the twinkle that 
 softens your eye for, let me tell you, a large part 
 of the affection I have for you is due to your appre- 
 ciation of my wife." 
 
 Levignet, troubled, embarrassed, for once quite
 
 262 Marcel Levignet 
 
 at a loss for a word to say, was half inclined to be 
 angry with de Noel. 'Toinette prettily turned to 
 good account the frown that began knitting his 
 eyebrows. 
 
 " Does it vex you to be suspected of caring for 
 me?" she asked, and, before he could answer, 
 added, " As for me, it gives me pleasure to think 
 you do." 
 
 What could Levignet do but take the hand 
 she held out to him, stammer a half intelligible 
 banality over it, and hide it for a moment beneath 
 the sweep of his moustache ? 
 
 " I repeat," said de Noel, " that there is no 
 reason why we should be apprehensive or you 
 should blame yourself, Levignet. The damage 
 done is that you have been struck " 
 
 " And robbed," I could not help interposing, as 
 I came from the window to remind them of my 
 presence, which they seemed in a way to forget. 
 
 " Robbed ! " exclaimed de Noel and 'Toinette 
 together. 
 
 "Chut! Summerville," said Levignet warn- 
 ingly; but without in the least heeding him, I told 
 them of the knavery by which he had been eased of 
 the one hundred thousand francs. 
 
 There -were no bounds to their astonishment and 
 indignation, but they were not the least disposed to 
 take Levignet's quixotic view of the necessity for 
 inaction.
 
 Marcel Levignet 263 
 
 " It is too monstrous 1 You have suffered the 
 greatest indignity on my account, and been robbed 
 of a fortune, and you think we will permit you to 
 keep silence ! Do you imagine my husband and I 
 will find my protection in the sacrifice of a friend? " 
 
 " Devil take it, Levignet," said de Noel, " you 
 shall set your friend the Prefect onto this indescrib- 
 able coquin, or I must take it upon myself to make 
 an occasion to run a rapier through whatever is 
 vital in him." 
 
 " In order that next day every rag of a news- 
 paper can make free with the name of Madame the 
 Baroness ! That every boulevard gossip-mongery 
 may add its invention to the tale of slander! And 
 you will have accomplished what ? " 
 
 " You would pay too dearly for the privilege of 
 kicking a rat into the sewer," I ventured to suggest, 
 looking at the Baron. 
 
 " That is precisely the true word," Levignet as- 
 serted. 
 
 " But to let the scoundrel triumph I to let him 
 laugh at us ! " de Noel exclaimed passionately, 
 thumping the table and rising to his feet. " It is 
 intolerable. We shall contrive a revenge. As for 
 the amount you have lost " 
 
 " That is not to be considered," Levignet ob- 
 jected. " It is scarcely more than the twentieth 
 part of a fortune that I have always found super- 
 fluous, and which I would cheerfully devote to the
 
 264 Marcel Levignet 
 
 service of " Levignet hesitated an instant " any 
 friend who would do me the honour to make use 
 of it," he added, with a gesture intended to give 
 quite an impersonal character to his benevolence. 
 
 'Toinette made a sign of grateful negation, while 
 de Noel replied: 
 
 " Be that as it may, a way must be found to re- 
 cover your money, or I shall make good your loss." 
 
 Levignet, looking sidewise at de Noel, and pull- 
 ing an end of his moustache beneath his chin, said 
 smilingly : 
 
 " Do you know, Baron, that I stopped a Prus- 
 sian bullet with my knee while performing an act of 
 thoughtless folly, for which someone thought fit to 
 give me a decoration of some sort? " 
 
 " I know you have several deeds of heroism to 
 your credit," answered de Noel, rather nonplussed, 
 " but I don't see " 
 
 "The decoration?" Levignet interrupted. 
 " No. I never wear it. The trifling difficulty I 
 have with my knee reminds me better than could 
 medal or ribbon that I once did some good in an 
 emergency." He gave a droll glance at the bit of 
 ribbon in de Noel's buttonhole. " All sorts of 
 people wear decorations for all sort of reasons; but 
 everyone cannot boast of having half an ounce of 
 Prussian lead neatly tucked away in the bone." 
 
 The others laughed at his pretended vanity in 
 giving his knee an approving pat, and there was a
 
 Marcel Levignet 265 
 
 tacit acquiscence on their part in his obvious desire 
 to avoid serious discussion. 
 
 " I'm afraid the Legion of Honour would have 
 to go out of business if the price of its ribbons were 
 half-ounces in the bone," 'Toinette said as she 
 blinked roguishly at the Baron. 
 
 "Ah I I see," de Noel chuckled, following her 
 lead, " you both undertake to disparage the merit 
 of my little knot of red because it was won in the 
 diplomatic service. But let me tell you that, when 
 diplomacy becomes an honest science instead of a 
 political craft, the state will have no use for soldiers 
 unless we keep a company here and there for the 
 amusement of the rabble, much as we keep com- 
 panies of actors. But what the deuce, Levignet, 
 has your Prussian souvenir to do with what we were 
 saying? " 
 
 " Only this; when I am about to curse the twinge 
 in my knee, I soothe myself with the recollection 
 that I came by it in a way not entirely to my dis- 
 credit. On the other hand, if I ever come to have 
 a pang on account of my stolen francs, I shall have 
 an instant anodyne in the reflection that their loss 
 was an exceedingly mild punishment of a most 
 egregious blunder on my part. You understand 
 that both my wounds, the one in my leg and the 
 one in my vanity, are of such inestimable value as 
 correctives of my character that I would, for no 
 consideration, be deprived of either."
 
 266 Marcel Levignet 
 
 "That may be philosophic; it is not, however, 
 practical," de Noel declared. " But I won't argue 
 with you. You are too obstinate to be convinced 
 by anything but your own opinion. Haven't we 
 found that to be the fact, cherie? " 
 
 " Undoubtedly," Toinette laughed. " We must 
 do with him as we do with children find a way to 
 make him swallow his medicine without knowing 
 it. You should take it in a lump of sugar, man 
 
 ami!' 
 
 " I know precisely the answer to that speech," 
 Levignet said, nodding his head sagely at 'Toinette, 
 and smiling. 
 
 " Make it ! " de Noel tapped him on the arm. 
 " You need not consider me." 
 
 " It is made," Levignet retorted. " A beautiful 
 woman is always clairaudient. You have but to 
 look into her eyes and she hears the tribute of your 
 emotions." 
 
 " That is a poetical fancy too delicate for my 
 prosaic wits," 'Toinette objected. " Besides, I like 
 tangible sweets. I have not enough imagination 
 for a Barmecide pastime." There was a provoking 
 prettiness in her smile. 
 
 "A challenge, Levignet," de Noel exclaimed. 
 * You cannot escape it. Now, then, for an im- 
 promptu in the form of a quotation from the book 
 of gallantry." 
 
 While de Noel was speaking, a footman came in
 
 Marcel Levignet 267 
 
 with a letter, and Levignet, waving his hand in the 
 direction of the fellow, said, a la Coquelin. 
 
 " Behold, it is borne to you on a salver." 
 
 " For Madame the Baroness," said the lackey. 
 
 "Forme?" 
 
 " By hand, madame." 
 
 'Toinette, who had been holding a light to my 
 cigarette, took up the letter, looked curiously at the 
 address, which puzzled her, turned the envelope to 
 see if there was a seal at the back, and declared 
 ruefully : 
 
 " I haven't an idea who it is from." 
 
 " An excellent reason for returning it unopened," 
 de Noel said, offering to take the letter from her 
 hand. 
 
 " You are making fun of me," 'Toinette laughed, 
 as she tore the envelope across, " not knowing that 
 most letters are interesting only while they are 
 sealed." She nodded to dismiss the footman, and 
 unfolded the letter. 
 
 " You have never had an opportunity of corre- 
 sponding with me," retorted de Noel. 
 
 'Toinette glanced at Levignet, and then at me. 
 
 " You permit me to read it? " 
 
 Anticipating our assent, she held the letter to- 
 ward one of the candles and began reading. But 
 at the first words, she uttered a subdued cry, and 
 her expression of gaiety turned to one of blank 
 consternation.
 
 268 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " It is from Madame Clifton ! " 
 
 "The devil!" exclaimed de Noel, taking the 
 letter she impulsively thrust toward him. 
 
 Levignet abruptly uncrossed his legs and grasped 
 the arms of his chair as if about to rise. 
 
 " What does she say? " he asked, leaning toward 
 de Noel. 
 
 " Humph ! " said the Baron, and then began 
 reading aloud. 
 
 " * Madame Clifton presents her compliments to 
 the Baroness de Noel, and begs leave to express her 
 astonishment at the stupidity that has so long pre- 
 vented her identifying the popular and charming 
 Baroness with her old friend, M'lle Beaudais. Ma- 
 dame Clifton is grieved to think that the delayed 
 recognition has been due to the fact that the Baron- 
 ess de Noel has been at pains to avoid personally 
 meeting her once trusted friend, and would be glad 
 to learn from the Baroness if an opportunity may 
 be granted for an explanation that may restore 
 friendly relations. Madame Clifton had under- 
 stood that the Baron de Noel had married an Eng- 
 lish lady, which may in a measure account for the 
 fact that she did not see in the new Baroness the 
 less splendid and less beautiful Antoinette Beau- 
 dais, whom she had known in sadder circumstances. 
 Madame Clifton would be pleased to call on the 
 Baroness de Noel, if that lady will graciously ap- 
 point a time. To avoid the uncertainty of the post,
 
 Marcel Levignet 269 
 
 the bearer of this note will wait to receive the 
 answer.' ' 
 
 Levignet had risen to his feet, and stood clutch- 
 ing the back of the chair, his face pale with anger. 
 'Toinette was motionless and haggard. 
 
 Neither of them spoke when de Noel stopped, 
 and in silence he went to the bell-rope, which he 
 gave a violent pull. 
 
 The footman re-entered the room as if he had 
 been in readiness for the summons. 
 
 " Is there a messenger waiting? " 
 
 " Yes, M. le Baron." 
 
 " Tell him there is no answer." 
 
 The footman retired, and de Noel returned to 
 his chair. 
 
 " She threatens us," 'Toinette said piteously, 
 looking at de Noel as if the danger were his rather 
 than her own. 
 
 " It means war but " de Noel crushed the 
 letter in his hand " have no fear, mon amie; we 
 shall triumph." 
 
 " You will be ruined," she moaned. " I foresaw 
 it. The crime of which I have to repent is that I 
 let you sacrifice yourself by marrying me." 
 
 De Noel went to her side, took her two hands 
 in his, raised her to her feet, and kissed her fore- 
 head. 
 
 " That I have the right to defend you makes me 
 the happiest man in the world. You gave me your
 
 2/o Marcel Levignet 
 
 hand, but I have always had a romantic wish to 
 win it." 
 
 " Ah ! it is the lightning from the clear sky. You 
 are its victim, not I." 
 
 She snatched away her hands from de Noel and, 
 greatly agitated, hurried toward the door, intend- 
 ing, no doubt, to hide in the privacy of her own 
 room the emotion she felt unable to restrain. 
 
 Levignet, who had stood in statuesque silence, 
 called out to her, and went to prevent her opening 
 the door. It was evident to me that he feared to 
 let her go by herself. 
 
 " Wait," said he. " It is for me to act. My 
 idiocy has brought matters to this crisis; it is my 
 office to shield you from the consequences of my 
 folly. I beg you to rest assured that I shall relieve 
 you of all anxiety. I have a plan that has come to 
 me as an inspiration. It cannot fail to extricate you 
 from the present danger and free your mind from 
 any fear of Madame Clifton. Will you trust 
 me?" 
 
 " I have always trusted you, my friend." 
 
 " You shall find that your trust is not misplaced," 
 Levignet declared, an unwonted tremor in his 
 voice. He held her hand for a moment, and then 
 led her back to the table, where de Noel stood 
 moodily uncertain. 
 
 " Baron," asked Levignet, " will you be guided 
 by my advice? "
 
 Marcel Levignet 271 
 
 " At least, I shall be glad to hear it." 
 
 " It is that the Baroness write at once to Madame 
 Clifton, inviting her to come here in the afternoon 
 of Friday three days from now." 
 
 " My wife invite that woman ! " exclaimed de 
 Noel. " It is not to be thought of." 
 
 " It will give me time to put my plan into oper- 
 ation, and Madame Clifton will not come." 
 
 " What is your plan? " 
 
 " That you shall learn in its success." 
 
 " M. Levignet is wise, mon ami" said 'Toin- 
 ette, pleadingly. " I have faith in his word." 
 
 ; ' Very well," said de Noel, after a pause; " you 
 shall write." 
 
 " Send it at once by messenger," Levignet urged. 
 He took out his watch. " It is ten o'clock. M. 
 Summerville and I have an engagement for half- 
 past. You will excuse us ? " 
 
 " And when shall we see you again? " 
 
 " To-morrow, perhaps, or the day after." Then, 
 turning to 'Toinette, " You will abate none of your 
 social gaieties. You will not let it appear that any- 
 thing has occurred to disturb your serenity. You 
 have numerous engagements? " 
 
 " No. You know everyone is occupied this 
 week with the Charity Bazaar." 
 
 " At any rate, wherever you go, let no one see a 
 cloud on your gaiety." 
 
 " You are mysterious," said de Noel.
 
 272 Marcel Levignet 
 
 "No; only precautionary. Good-night. And 
 believe in me." 
 
 Either his good humour had returned, or he 
 acted excellently, for he laughed cheerily as he 
 shook hands with them, declaring : 
 
 " I have a capital plan to put this enemy to rout. 
 It will become a jest with us in our future cosy chats 
 over your faultless wine, Baron. You shall see if 
 Levignet has the wit to correct his errors. You 
 shall not be at the trouble to air your salon after a 
 visit from Madame Clifton. Come, my dilatory 
 Summerville ; we shall miss our engagement." 
 
 We went arm-in-arm down the stairs, and Lev- 
 ignet tossed a ten-franc piece to the astonished 
 lackey who served us as we passed through the 
 great doorway. 
 
 "Where shall we go?" he demanded as we 
 reached the pavement. 
 
 ' You made the engagement," I replied laugh- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Then, let us walk as our legs take us."
 
 XXXII 
 
 HE was not communicative as we wandered 
 aimlessly, and only replied to my casual 
 remarks in a self-absorbed fashion. 
 Finally, when we were in the dim seclusion of the 
 Cours la Reine, I ventured the question that had 
 been piquing my curiosity: 
 
 " Have you really a plan to muzzle the Clif- 
 ton?" 
 
 11 Effectually." 
 
 "It is your secret? " 
 
 " I have no secrets from you, friend Summer- 
 ville. You are my fidus Achates. But I hesitate 
 to put you in peril by making you my confidant in 
 this." 
 
 " I should be in good company if I share the 
 peril with you." 
 
 " No. I should make you my accomplice. I 
 don't need an accomplice in this. If I did, I should 
 not involve you, my boy; I should hunt out some 
 such fellow as my old friend Benoist, if he is 
 still at large. A trusty fellow is the admirable 
 Benoist." 
 
 " Good God ! Levignet, you don't mean that you 
 
 contemplate ' ' 
 
 273
 
 274 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " I do," he interrupted carelessly, anticipating 
 what I hesitated to say. 
 
 I stopped still, dumfoundedly looking at him as 
 he turned inquiringly. 
 
 " What's the matter? " he asked. 
 
 " You wouldn't do such a thing, Levignet ! " I 
 stammered. 
 
 " My dear Summerville, I served three years as 
 a hired assassin in state livery, and I remember 
 once to have sabred a lad whose mother's milk was 
 scarce dry in his mouth, and for no better reason 
 than that he wore a foreign uniform. In the name 
 of a hundred thunders, shall a man who has done 
 that scruple to crunch a scorpion under his heel ! " 
 He turned fiercely, clutched me by the lapel of my 
 coat and, glaring into my eyes, said in a tense 
 whisper, " I tell you, Summerville, I shall kill that 
 woman ! " 
 
 " No, no ! Levignet.'' 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Summerville. It is the only way." 
 
 " You are mad, Levignet! " 
 
 "Yes, mad, thank God!" 
 
 He took off his hat, thrust the thick locks of 
 white hair from his forehead, readjusted his hat, 
 and walked on some distance in silence. I followed 
 him mechanically, my mind dumb and inert, a 
 vague fear at my heart as if he were on his way 
 toward the deed, and I powerless to hinder him. 
 
 Suddenly he wheeled around, took me by the
 
 Marcel Levignet 
 
 arm and, in his usual easy humour, said with a 
 chuckle of expectancy : 
 
 " I'll tell you what we'll do, we'll spend an 
 hour at the * Ambassadeurs.' There is a droll fel- 
 low who makes me laugh. I predict he will be a 
 card some day. Come."
 
 XXXIII 
 
 WE entered the enclosure of the open air 
 resort that depends so largely for its 
 existence upon the patronage of inquisi- 
 tive foreigners; but, instead of looking for seats 
 among the chairs under the trees, Levignet led the 
 way to the pavilion at the end of the garden, and 
 we mounted to a table in the loggia. There was 
 so must ' zest and lightness in his manner, he 
 spoke so banteringly and made such droll com- 
 ments on the " divette " who was just then enter- 
 taining the audience, that I began to recover from 
 the alarm caused by his desperate speech in the 
 Cours la Reine. 
 
 "What will you have, Summerville? Sherry? 
 For myself, I shall need a sedative of brandy. 
 When my brain is capricious in its fancies and plays 
 at cache-cache with my judgment, a bumper of 
 brandy restores it to reasonable order. Folly ani- 
 mates brandy adjusts. A large glass of brandy, 
 garqon, some of your best cigars and a chopine of 
 sherry for Monsieur. We shall be comfortable. 
 Possibly you are hungry. No ? Nor I. My ob- 
 jection to dining with de Noel is that he has picked 
 up a damnably seductive cook who tempts me to 
 
 276
 
 Marcel Levignet 277 
 
 overfeed. Ah I " with a quick deprecatory ges- 
 ture, " those are your countrymen and the English. 
 We French merely suffer these things." 
 
 His last half contemptuous remark referred to 
 the noisy applause with which the " divette " was 
 being recalled. 
 
 " I am afraid, Levignet, you French are rather 
 given to foisting your infirmities upon the shoulders 
 of your foreign guests. Your press has some very 
 fondling terms for these lively ladies." 
 
 " Bah ! Those are but echoes of the promenoir. 
 The press does not herald these friponnes until the 
 claque and the imbeciles have given them a vogue. 
 You see, friend Summerville, Paris is the unmask- 
 ing ground of hypocritic Christendom. There is a 
 tradition among you vagrants from the four cor- 
 ners of the earth that nothing counts in Paris; and 
 the moment you get your lungs filled with the at- 
 mosphere of our boulevards, you kick free from 
 habitual restraints of thought and conduct, and sur- 
 render to the promptings of your native devil. 
 That is why you fly where catins like M'lle Thing- 
 umbob there display themselves, passing the limits 
 of decency, caterwauling in their fish-vendor voices 
 salacities that tickle the vicious, and making ges- 
 tures that inform the innocent. You applaud what 
 makes you blush, and excuse yourselves by pretend- 
 ing to think it clever. Clever! It is the clever- 
 ness of the kitchen-wench who makes a spiced
 
 278 Marcel Levignet 
 
 stew out of the scrapings of dinner-plates left by a 
 company of sloppy gluttons. It is nauseous to 
 sanity." 
 
 He made a grimace at the fancied dish, and 
 drank off at once half the glass of brandy the waiter 
 set before him. 
 
 " I agree with you. And, speaking of sanity, I 
 must confess that I was fool enough to be fright- 
 ened by what you said a while ago." 
 
 "What was that?" 
 
 " I mean your extravagant threat concerning 
 Madame Clifton." 
 
 " Humph ! Was it extravagant? " 
 
 " I have too noble an opinion of you to imagine 
 otherwise." 
 
 " That you think nobly of another man argues 
 nobility in yourself, Summerville. You have a gen- 
 erous sentiment, and I am pleased to have the bene- 
 fit of it. But you are not an abstract reasoner. 
 You lack the inductive faculty. You cannot con- 
 struct a syllogism backwards. By the way, do you 
 know the story of old Baneban and the Queen of 
 Hungary ? " 
 
 " I don't recall it." 
 
 " I may as well tell you that as talk banalities. 
 It is an interesting bit of history, and it may help 
 you to another word than * extravagant' with which 
 to characterise my purpose." 
 
 " Your ' purpose,' Levignet? "
 
 Marcel Levignet 279 
 
 " You shall judge. Listen to my story and 
 catch the merit of it. It was in the reign of Andre 
 the Second, far enough away to exempt us from a 
 charge of lese-majeste in repeating the scandal. 
 This Baneban was palatine of the kingdom, and his 
 long-proved zeal and fidelity had established him 
 in the confidence of the king, so that when it became 
 necessary for Andre to go to Constantinople to 
 negotiate a peace with the neighbouring princes, he 
 felt perfectly secure in leaving Baneban as regent. 
 * I leave you', said Andre, * no other instructions 
 than this: Deal in exact justice with all of my 
 subjects without regard to questions of birth or 
 dignity,' which, I need not tell you, sums up the 
 whole office of reputable sovereignty. Now the wife 
 of Baneban devil take me if I can remember her 
 name, but Constance is a suitable one, and I'll use 
 it was young, charming and of a beauty that in- 
 fluences loose men to dream of damnation. It hap- 
 pened in her case that there was as much chastity 
 as fascination, and she enjoyed the respect of the 
 Court, which, as courts go, is saying a good deal. 
 But, soon after the departure of the king, the 
 queen's younger brother, the Count of Moravia, 
 came to visit his royal sister, and I must stick to 
 the facts of history promptly committed the indis- 
 cretion of falling fathoms deep in love with the 
 palatiness. When the acquaintance had matured 
 into intimacy through a week of fetes, pleasures
 
 28o Marcel Levignet 
 
 and gaieties, the count, with the impudent courage 
 of a practised gallant, seized an occasion to declare 
 his passion to Constance. But that lady I recall 
 the exact words of the old historiographer but 
 that lady, even more virtuous than she was beau- 
 tiful, only responded to his overture by the severity 
 of her looks. You may think that a sufficiently 
 mild rebuke, but if there is any check to lawless pas- 
 sion more potent than the look of a loyal woman, 
 it is a matter of swords and gunpowder. Of course, 
 the first resistance had the usual effect of stimulat- 
 ing the count's criminal desires ; but when he found 
 that successive efforts to betray the lady only re- 
 sulted in widening the distance that separated them, 
 the count declined into such a melancholy that the 
 queen, alarmed for his health, brought him to a 
 confession of his ailment. It is not my purpose to 
 moralise for your benefit, friend Summerville, and 
 you may make your own mental comments on the 
 nature of the queen's complaisance in undertaking 
 to arrange the matter for the gratification of her 
 brother's passion. I only tell you the facts. Eh, 
 bien! The queen counselled the count to dissimu- 
 late his sentiments under a respectful address, until 
 such time as the confidence of Constance could be 
 re-established, and that lady induced to return to 
 the court intimacy from which she had withdrawn 
 to escape the count's persecution. I refer you to 
 the pages of M. Fillassier's capital historic compi-
 
 Marcel Levignet 281 
 
 lation for the proof of the statement that the queen, 
 having secured Constance in a remote apartment of 
 the palace, opened the door to the count, who 
 played the role of Tarquin in the favourable cir- 
 cumstances. In a speech, the dignity and painful 
 beauty of which I will not mar by an imperfect 
 quotation, Constance informed Baneban of his and 
 her dishonour, lamenting the fact that religion for- 
 bade her to end a life that had been made odious to 
 her. The regent was a man clean through, my 
 friend, and you may picture for yourself the dis- 
 order of his emotions. But he clasped his wife con- 
 solingly in his arms, declaring to her that an invol- 
 untary fault was rather a misfortune than a crime, 
 and that the violence done to her person had not 
 altered the purity of her soul. ' But,' said he, 
 1 there shall be a vengeance equal to the enormity 
 of the outrage.' This Baneban was not a fellow 
 to make idle threats. Ma foil I should think 
 not. Men of character are as careful of their! 
 threats as they are mindful of other obligations. 
 In two days Baneban was in private audience 
 with the queen. ' Madame,' he addressed her 
 with the superb calm of a great soul, ' you 
 have robbed my wife of her most precious jewel; 
 I must search for it in your heart.' And, with 
 the word, he struck his dagger into her breast. 
 Leaving her dead in the cabinet, he announced to 
 the courtiers what he had done, and his reason for
 
 282 Marcel Levignet 
 
 it, and no one offering to prevent him, he mounted 
 his horse and, accompanied by two or three lords 
 of his suite, set out for Constantinople to put him- 
 self into the hands of his king. Kneeling before the 
 king, and tendering his sword, he said, ' Sire, in 
 giving me your orders before quitting Hungary, 
 you urged me above all things to render exact jus- 
 tice to your subjects without regard to rank or con- 
 dition. I have done so. I have killed the queen, 
 your wife, for having prostituted mine. I bring 
 you my head, which I did not choose to save by an 
 ignoble flight. Do what you will with me, and let 
 your people judge by my life or death whether you 
 hold me innocent or guilty.' It is an incredible fact 
 that his Majesty Andre the Second had something 
 in him to justify the superstition that kings are so 
 by divine grace. He did not furiously chop off 
 the head of our friend Baneban. Mirabile dictu, 
 he gave back the regent's sword and bade him rise. 
 * Return to Hungary, my lord, and continue to ad- 
 minister justice to my subjects with as much exacti- 
 tude and severity as you have rendered it in your 
 own behalf. When I return, I will determine 
 from an investigation whether your action deserves 
 praise or punishment.' It was excellent art in 
 old Fillassier that he left it to our intelligence to 
 finish his exemplary story of the Regent Baneban. 
 I do not care what moral you draw from it. I 
 do not ask whether you regard that dagger thrust
 
 Marcel Levignet 283 
 
 as murder or the supreme act of retributive justice; 
 whether you execrate Baneban or applaud him; 
 whether you drink to his health in paradise or 
 murmur a prayer for his soul in hell ; whether you 
 think him madman or the inexorable minister of 
 Fate. It is the story; you have it; interpret it as 
 you please." 
 
 " Little matter how, Levignet. The story was 
 diverting not to the purpose. You are not in 
 the case of Baneban. No Andre the Second has 
 appointed you regent to measure justice to his 
 subjects." 
 
 " You are wrong there, my friend. Virtue is 
 king over all, and every man is regent of the king- 
 dom. The faithful regent takes counsel of his 
 conscience, and accepts its dictation as the sovereign 
 will. When conscience approves, the law of con- 
 vention is put aside that Equity, the eternal goddess 
 of true souls, may have free course. But let us 
 not fall into a debate of principles. I am stubborn 
 in the support of my convictions. With me a 
 fixed idea is a divine decree, and not debatable. 
 Understand; resolve; perform. That is my ritual, 
 shorn of superlatives. It is not in the tongue of 
 man to change me. I believe that is a quotation 
 from your Shakespeare. I like its vigour. Ah! 
 here we are. This is my amusing fellow. Listen 
 to him. Observe him. Tell me if I am not right 
 in saying he will one day be a card. I heard him
 
 284 Marcel Levignet 
 
 first in that hole of a Bobino in the Montparnasse 
 quarter. I said a word for him. He is getting 
 on. Is there a better face for comedy in France? 
 Five inches more, with a suspicion of added finesse, 
 and you might look for him in the Comedie Fran- 
 gaise a year or so from now. The grand virtue 
 of us French is that we set up ladders everywhere 
 by which merit may mount to its deserts. That is 
 where the Latins are superior to your Anglo- 
 Saxons. Is he not inimitable?" 
 
 Levignet laughed at the fellow's drollery, his 
 eyes sparkling, his head nodding, and his hands 
 pattering approbation. For some minutes neither 
 of us spoke. I could not believe him earnest in 
 his professed design, and yet I feared. At length 
 I leaned nearer to him across the narrow table, 
 and touched his arm. 
 
 '" You torture me, Levignet. Give me the 
 assurance that your plan of action does not really 
 have any relation to the role of a Baneban.' 
 
 " Take an easy mind to bed with you, Summer- 
 ville, and revolve the Italian proverb Che sara 
 sara. Wise men never vex themselves with the 
 casualties of to-morrow." 
 
 " Make my mind easy then, old friend. Give 
 me the assurance I ask. Why the deuce should 
 you contemplate extreme measures, when there are 
 a thousand alternatives? You are inventive, saga- 
 cious, resourceful, you have no lack of money
 
 Marcel Levignet 285 
 
 surely you can serve your purpose without having 
 recourse to" 
 
 " Chut! Summerville. I interrupt you to save 
 you from puerilities. You attach importance to 
 terms and shudder at words. That was very well 
 when your nurse wished to stop your fretful whim- 
 perings and threatened you with bogies. We 
 give new values to myths when we have learned 
 how to analyse them, and we blow out the candle 
 without being afraid of the dark." 
 
 "All the same, Levignet, when one has blown 
 out the candle, one is at the mercy of the dark- 
 ness." 
 
 " I understand your parable. But darkness is 
 a security, my friend. I shall sleep sound in the 
 embrace of happy dreams when a particular candle 
 is blown out. I shall not regret it. Why should 
 you ? " He lighted a fresh cigar. " Let us not 
 continue to speak figuratively. It taxes my inven- 
 tion to play with similes and metaphors. Each of 
 us is born into the world to discharge an economic 
 duty in the general evolution of the race. We 
 tickle our vanities with the notion that the divine 
 order requires something exceptional at our hands, 
 some splendid achievement, some dazzling per- 
 formance ; and we quite contemn the fact that the 
 wriggling white worm, eating its industrious way 
 into the heart of a carrion, is serving the race as 
 certainly as a Napoleon who sets his army to shovel-
 
 286 Marcel Levignet 
 
 ling away the corruption of demoralised dynasties. 
 There is no high or low office in the evolutionary 
 plan of nature. All its agents are on a plane of 
 equality. 
 
 " We may give ourselves airs and strut to our 
 heart's content; but butterfly or scavenger-bee- 
 tle, lion or jackal, philanthropist or misanthrope, 
 saint or sinner, judge or culprit, devouring or de- 
 voured we are all mere atoms in the outworking 
 of an inscrutable cosmos. Our equality is proved 
 by the fact that, when we have served the purpose 
 for which we are set in motion, it is our common 
 lot to rot in the earth. The knife of Brutus 
 weighed as heavily in the world's balance as the 
 sceptre of Caesar. It was a flea bite that saved 
 an empire by waking a prince as an assassin crept 
 in at his door. Virginius, hedged from the 
 villainous Appius by the scurvy lictors, unable to 
 reach the tyrant, sanctified his daughter's chastity 
 in the blood of her own sweet breast. Well, my 
 friend, if you have not found a new word for my 
 * extravagance,' seek for it in my tenet that any 
 means to a good end is a just means. I stand 
 between Virginia and Appia. Shall I strike the 
 innocent when I can reach the guilty ? " 
 
 " You shall strike neither, if I can bring you to 
 
 reason." 
 
 "So?" He laughed lightly. "Reason is a 
 tedious mistress. I discarded her long ago."
 
 Marcel Levignet 287 
 
 " Tell me what you intend doing what plan 
 you propose to follow." 
 
 " That shall be as Chance and Impulse decide. 
 I follow impulse. I came in here to-night in 
 obedience to impulse. I thought it would lead to 
 something. I have looked about. There is 
 nothing to interest me. Evidently I let a secondary 
 impulse deceive me. Are you ready to go? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I'll walk toward your hotel with you." 
 
 " My intention is to go home with you." 
 
 " Oh, you mean to keep an eye on me ! Very 
 well. So be it. I have pyjamas at your service; 
 but I have no Suzel to make you comfortable. 
 We shall miss her coffee and her hot buttered rolls. 
 Ah ! me. I miss them. Come along, then." 
 
 We talked far into the morning, seated in his 
 cosy work den, I serious, pleading, remonstrant in 
 turn; he jestingly evasive and fantastic, abating 
 nothing of his terrible purpose, which he treated 
 as lightly as if the taking of a " superfluous life " 
 were, indeed, no more than the blowing out of a 
 candle. Disheartened and racked by my doubts 
 and anxieties, unable to think of a way to keep 
 him from the crime or prevent its success, vaguely 
 catching at the possibility of warning Madame 
 Clifton without betraying Levignet or provoking 
 her vindictiveness, I rose at last to say good- 
 night.
 
 288 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " Good-night and sweet dreams," he said cheer- 
 ily, keeping his seat. " But, one word before you 
 go. I look into your mind, my friend. I know; 
 I know there is a conflict, and I know it is due to 
 your concern for me. Your fears are on my ac- 
 count, and you would like well to run off to my 
 friend the Prefect and make a clean breast to him, 
 to the end that old Marcel Levignet may not run 
 the risk of getting his neck on the chopp ing-block. 
 Well, look here." He took from his pocket the 
 metal case in which he kept the ring he had taken 
 from 'Toinette, and opened it and held the jewel 
 toward the light. " Madame Clifton and I are 
 both people very much in earnest, and rather reck- 
 less in carrying out our schemes. That clever 
 woman has considered. She has gone over her 
 ground. Her letter to the baroness was the result 
 of a deliberate calculation of all chances. She 
 feels so confident of herself that she is resolved to 
 use 'Toinette and de Noel, or ruin them. If you 
 interfere in her behalf, if you defeat my object, it 
 will be the same as if you emptied the contents of 
 this ring into the drink I am about to take. I 
 swear to you, my friend, if I suffer the chagrin of 
 seeing the Baroness de Noel the prey of that 
 woman, I will swallow the powder in this cache. 
 Good-night." 
 
 He smiled and nodded as he raised the glass. 
 
 " To your sweet repose."
 
 XXXIV 
 
 THE grey ghost of morning was filtering 
 through the narrow opening of the care- 
 lessly drawn curtains of my window be- 
 fore I closed my eyes in a troubled sleep. I was 
 awakened by Levignet, who tapped me on the 
 shoulder and called me by name. 
 
 " Do you imagine," he asked, as I drowsily 
 turned to look up at him, " that you are one of 
 the seven sleepers? Ten hours of oblivion at a 
 stretch is an impeachment of your moral fibre." 
 
 "What time is it?" 
 
 " Nearly noon." 
 
 " Then I have not done so badly. It was day- 
 light before I went to sleep. Have you been up 
 long?" 
 
 " I haven't been to bed. I took a cat nap in 
 my easy chair; I had need of my time. You know 
 your way to the bathroom? " 
 
 11 Yes." 
 
 " I have an excellent melon in ice for you; don't 
 let it get too cold. I'm rather on edge for a slice 
 of it." 
 
 " Don't wait for me." 
 
 " A virtuous melon should be partaken in com- 
 pany. A really good one is like an honest man, 
 
 289
 
 290 Marcel Levignet 
 
 the pick of ten thousand. I have laid this one in 
 halves and can answer for it. Shall I grill you a 
 chop? Or would you like a bit of fish? Or 
 both?" 
 
 " A small chop is about my measure." 
 
 " I am not peremptory, but I only allow you 
 twenty minutes for your toilet. Will you have an 
 ' appetiser ' ? " 
 
 " No, thank you. I am normal." 
 
 " If you change your mind, you will find a de- 
 canter in the cupboard. In case of need, ring for 
 Joseph. Suzel's locum tenans, you understand. 
 Twenty minutes, mind you." 
 
 He shook a warning finger at me as he left the 
 room, and I heard him go down the stairs whis- 
 tling " Home to our Mountains," from the time- 
 worn opera so great a favourite with him. The 
 air had always seemed to me a joyous one but not 
 as he whistled it in deep-toned andante. There 
 was a flute-like quality of pathos in it that re- 
 minded me of a night when my gondolier, letting 
 his gondola rock loiteringly under the Bridge of 
 Sighs, drew from his pocket an ocherina, and 
 played upon it so dolorously that I heard the shuffle 
 of centuries of footsteps on the worn stones over- 
 head, as the victims of the inexorable Ten went 
 slow-pacing to their doom. A door closed on 
 Levignet, but the whistling, even more melancholy 
 for its indistinctness, sifted through the walls and
 
 Marcel Levignet 291 
 
 began shaping itself, in my fancy, into words, 
 whispering to me the sombre thoughts of the 
 whistler. I could entertain no comforting doubt 
 that Levignet had perfected his plan. He was 
 prepared for the desperate office. He was self- 
 consecrated to the performance of a repugnant 
 duty, a duty from which he instinctively shrank, 
 but which he was resolved to execute, not in the 
 least concerned with the consequence to himself. 
 And I was made intuitively aware, too, of the fact 
 that he had settled in his mind the means by which 
 to put his purpose into effect. The feeling that 
 one is powerless either to persuade or to prevent a 
 friend from a course that leads straight on to his 
 ruin may admit of analysis; but as I hurried 
 through my toilet that morning I was conscious 
 of nothing more definite than a nervous dread that 
 I should fail to get down to the breakfast room 
 within the time jestingly fixed by Levignet. It 
 seemed to me that the most momentous thing in the 
 world just then was the fate of the cooling melon, 
 the delicate flavour of which too great a chill 
 would spoil. 
 
 When I entered the breakfast-room, Levignet 
 sat at a small bureau under the window, writing. 
 He tossed aside his pen and rose with a compliment 
 on my punctuality. If he observed in my face the 
 trouble of my emotions he ignored it, ceremon- 
 iously placing a chair at the table for me, as he
 
 292 Marcel Levignet 
 
 chatted, emptying the cracked ice from his share 
 of the melon, seating himself with a sigh of an- 
 ticipatory enjoyment; and began scooping up with 
 his spoon luscious bits of the exquisite fruit. 
 
 " You cannot get from your piece the savour 
 of mine. I have the advantage of you. I have 
 earned the right to enjoy by my industry. I have 
 been busy while you were lolling indolent in a 
 bed of ease. For one thing, a letter came from 
 the Baroness Baroness ! It was signed ' 'Toin- 
 ette.' A letter from 'Toinette. Quite in the proper 
 spirit; inviting me to spend a franc or two at 
 her booth in the bazaar this afternoon. She pre- 
 tends to a fear that she may lack patrons. Ha! 
 if her receipts do not double those of any other 
 lady's, I do not know my Parisians. How do you 
 find the melon? " 
 
 " Faultless." 
 
 " I have a fruiterer who finds it worth while to 
 flatter my tastes. Not that I pay so much more 
 than another; but I have been in trade myself, and 
 know the value of a pinch of courtesy and a rec- 
 ognition of the rights of man. I give old Lozet 
 to understand that I esteem his judgment and 
 respect his virtues as a caterer, with the agree- 
 able result that France has no better fruit than 
 finds its way to my table. As with fruit, so with 
 other things, my friend. If you would be 
 served to the best, get at the best in those who
 
 Marcel Levignet 293 
 
 serve you. Name of the devil! The reason so 
 large a part of the world feels the sting of thorns 
 is that the majority of us insist on feeding our 
 vanity at the expense of the other fellow's pride. 
 No man is without his share of amour propre. 
 Respect it, and you will find that there are different 
 values in the work of even a scavenger. Have a 
 look at my dust-bin. It is as wholesome as one of 
 old Suzel's casseroles. Ah! old Suzel. I bred 
 too great a self-respect in her. I fell below her 
 level of reciprocity. But I don't like your silence. 
 It is an admitted fact that a conversation requires 
 at least a yea and nay antiphone, whereas you are 
 as dumb as an oyster. Can you not favour me 
 with an occasional exclamation? A thousand 
 thunders! do you hint that I am garrulous?" 
 
 " I am thinking, Levignet, that you might dis- 
 cover a way to apply your golden rule to Madame 
 Clifton." 
 
 "Humph! That has come into my mind, 
 also." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " And been discarded. Still, I shall make the 
 effort. Since you have introduced the subject, let 
 us discuss it. Make an end of your melon, and 
 we'll have in the chops. Then I'll send Joseph 
 out. He is new to me, and may have the keyhole 
 habit. When he has been with me a year or so, 
 I'll know his moral calibre."
 
 294 Marcel Levignet 
 
 He rang the bell, gave his orders and, the 
 changes made, dismissed Joseph with a commis- 
 sion to the tobacconist. Left to ourselves, 
 Levignet began talking again, but with more 
 seriousness. 
 
 " I told you I did not wish to involve you in my 
 affairs by acquainting you with my intentions. But 
 I conclude that your conscience will be no more dis- 
 turbed by details than it already is by conjectures. 
 If I had said nothing to you, in the event of a cer- 
 tain casualty you would have declared to yourself, 
 1 Levignet is the man.' Very well ; it would be as 
 hard for you merely to suspect as it will be if you 
 know. You may, however, rest easy on one point 
 you will have nothing to conceal. I shall not 
 be a skulking assassin. Marcel Levignet has 
 never yet had anything to hide from man or God. 
 We do not teach old dogs new tricks. To the 
 point. At nine o'clock this morning I sent a note 
 by hand to Madame Clifton, telling her that I had 
 a fancy to buy her carriage and pair, which I was 
 prepared to do without regard to price. I begged 
 her to name a time in the twenty-four hours that 
 I might confer with her in the matter. She replied 
 by my messenger. Here is the answer, written on 
 the back of one of her visiting cards : 
 
 ' ' Madame Clifton is not sure that she cares to sell, 
 but will hear M. Levignet's offer at ten o'clock to-night, 
 if he will call.' "
 
 Marcel Levignet 295 
 
 " I returned word that I should be at her door 
 precisely on the hour." 
 
 " I see. You hope to buy her off." 
 
 " Not merely that. It would be easy enough 
 to buy her off, as you put it. I must have a 
 guaranty that she will stay bought. One does not 
 put trust in cattle of her sort. I must be sure of 
 her silence when the bargain is concluded. 
 
 " I have written out a brief statement of the 
 circumstances attending the seduction of M'lle 
 Beaudais, inculpating Madame Clifton, and the 
 facts leading up to and including the death of 
 Judge Chartier of which Madame Clifton has 
 cognisance. If she will sign that paper, she can 
 name her own price for her signature, attested by 
 Joseph." 
 
 "Joseph?" 
 
 " Oh ! I neglected to tell you that Joseph is a 
 notary." 
 
 "If she will not sign?" 
 
 u It is all one. She will have had the chance. 
 In any case, I will feel sure of her silence when I 
 leave her." 
 
 " You don't imagine, do you, Levignet, that she 
 will receive you alone? " 
 
 " Probably not. It doesn't matter." 
 
 " But Clifton isn't the only one you have to 
 silence. There is the Marquis." 
 
 " Oh, no ! My word for it, the Marquis knows
 
 296 Marcel Levignet 
 
 nothing of the story. Clifton is much too shrewd 
 to have let him into the secret. Besides, I have 
 sounded him." 
 "When?" 
 
 " This morning. I had twenty minutes talk 
 with him. He would almost be willing to give me 
 back the hundred thousand to know why I do not 
 prosecute him. I was sure it was Clifton's doings. 
 She simply used the monkey. He knows nothing." 
 " May I offer you my advice? " 
 " Why not ? I am not obliged to take it." 
 " I am of de Noel's opinion. You have a dis- 
 torted view of the Clifton. She will blackmail you 
 if she can frighten you with threats; but if you will 
 
 defy her, challenge her to do her worst " 
 
 " You are a novice, my friend," Levignet inter- 
 rupted. " Your faith in 'Toinette's romance 
 closes your eyes to the important fact that she 
 has not a single witness to corroborate any part of 
 her statement. And if you will examine the case 
 as dispassionately as judge or jury would, you will 
 be forced to confess that there is a good deal of 
 the incredible in a story that is not consistent with 
 the general opinion as to how clandestine love- 
 affairs work out in Paris. On the other hand, 
 see how things are arrayed against her. To the 
 public eye, Madame Clifton is a woman of 
 exemplary character. She abounds in good works. 
 She prays without ceasing at least, she is a church
 
 Marcel Levignet 297 
 
 habitue e. She figures in every charitable move- 
 ment you will find her installed at the Bazaar. 
 She is fortified in grace. Now suppose she should 
 have a sudden scruple of conscience, and feel im- 
 pelled to unburden her mind of a troublesome 
 secret. She could represent herself as a benevolent 
 body who, through an excess of compassion, had 
 been tempted to shield a young girl from the con- 
 sequences of an odious crime. Any fiction she 
 might falter into the ears of Justice would be, 
 prima facie, acceptable to our wigged donkeys. 
 Who could disprove her snivelling hypocrisies? 
 She is clever enough to invent a circumstantial case 
 that would come near enough to the truth to be 
 incontrovertible by anything 'Toinette could say 
 in her own defence. You and de Noel attribute 
 too much penetration to our judiciary. You 
 imagine that official decoration increases human 
 sagacity and sharpens the perception. It is quite 
 the other way. Badges of office have the effect 
 of inflating egotism to such a degree that judgment 
 is corrupted. The assumption is that the accused 
 is guilty, and under our remarkable system of 
 jurisprudence proof of innocence is substituted for 
 proof of guilt. What proof of her innocence can 
 'Toinette offer to support her declaration? She 
 could tell her story in court as she has told it to 
 me; but under our methods of interrogatory, her 
 defence could be twisted into a self-condemnation.
 
 298 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Ah ! I see you are already convinced of the sound- 
 ness of my reasoning, and I need not pursue the 
 argument to its limit. In brief, then, Madame 
 Clifton must be silenced. If she will not sign a 
 paper incriminating herself " 
 
 " I do not believe she will do that." 
 
 " Then the alternative." 
 
 " I don't believe she will take the initiative you 
 fear." 
 
 " She will, unless the de Noels will submit to 
 her dictation." 
 
 " Well, even that were better than that you 
 should " 
 
 "What are you thinking of? The idea is re- 
 volting. Look you. In the rue Bonaparte there 
 is an atelier where a remarkably skilful craftsman 
 fashions images of saints for the Church Josephs 
 and Virgins and Genevieves, and the rest of them 
 mere shapes of wood and plaster insensate 
 things; emotionless, passionless objects of sale 
 and barter. But buy one of those senseless effigies, 
 my friend, and set it up at the entrance to a house 
 of tolerance, and the mob of Paris will rend you 
 in pieces and raze your house to the foundation 
 bricks. That for the profanation of an ideal ! 
 Good God ! " He pushed back from the table and 
 rose, gripping the chair strenuously, his face 
 passionate, his voice menacent. " If it be a 
 sacrilege, an unpardonable outrage to make that
 
 Marcel Levignet 299 
 
 use of an image, even though it may have been 
 carved by a Brittany peasant, shall it be less an 
 affront to Heaven and honesty to see a pure woman 
 put to a like shameful service! We will say no 
 more about it. My resolution is taken. How will 
 you have your coffee? Natural or with milk? " 
 
 " With milk." 
 
 The coffee was making over a spirit-lamp, and, 
 as he went to draw me a cup, the street bell rang. 
 
 " Joseph. I can put it to his credit that he is 
 expeditious. Excuse me while I let him in." 
 
 It was not Joseph, however, but a petit-bleu, 
 which, on his return, Levignet tossed to me in 
 silence as he passed to the coffee urn. 
 
 There was only the line: 
 
 " Madame Clifton will not sell. M. Levignet need 
 not call." 
 
 "Laconic, isn't it?" asked Levignet. 
 
 " What do you understand from it? " 
 
 " The mouse has smelt the cat." 
 
 "What will you do now? " 
 
 " I mean to have a cup of coffee two, if it tastes 
 as good as it smells. I paraphrase Sancho Panza 
 to say, ' God bless the man who first invented 
 coffee.' I believe the medical fraternity are not 
 agreed as to its beneficence; but I shall be careful 
 to avoid anything the medical gentlemen agree to 
 commend. Um? How is it?"
 
 300 Marcel Levignet 
 
 " Quite worthy of Suzel." 
 
 " It is her method. I learned a deal from the 
 dear old pig-headed, foolish virgin. Did I tell 
 you that I have located her? " 
 
 "No. Have you?" 
 
 " Yes. She took herself and her savings to an 
 attic back of the Madeleine. Suzel was a thrifty 
 soul and has more than enough for her simple 
 needs. But she misses me nearly as much as 
 I miss her. The stupid creature has drawn into a 
 shell. I've had a talk with the concierge. 
 Fidelity of affection is the rarest jewel in the 
 human coffer, friend Summerville, and I must find 
 a way to recover old Suzel. She has hands like 
 claws, but I would rather have them to close down 
 my eyelids when I can no longer close them for 
 myself, than the softest fingers I have ever touched 
 
 unless it might be those of Ah 1 That is 
 
 Joseph this time, certainly." 
 
 The bell brought him out of the pleasant 
 melancholy into which he was drifting, and he 
 went with exceptional alacrity to let in Joseph, who 
 brought a bundle of cigars. 
 
 " We'll keep these for another time," said 
 Levignet, re-entering the room. '" I remember to 
 have some better ones in my workshop. Let us 
 go try them. Refill the cups, Joseph, and fetch 
 them in to us." 
 
 Levignet led the way to his " workshop," and
 
 Marcel Levignet 301 
 
 when he had set a box of Havanas before me he 
 asked permission to use the telephone, and called 
 up the Prefect of Police. 
 
 "M. le Prefet?" he demanded, when the 
 response came. " Ah ! yes. It is Levignet. 
 Exactly. I want a favour at your hands. Thank 
 you. You are very obliging. Will you send two 
 of your men to my house to-night at 9 o'clock 
 sharp, to act under my orders? No. Merely a 
 bit of diplomacy. A little nonsense of my own. 
 In uniform, yes. Thank you. We'll touch 
 glasses at the Cafe Cardinal, if you'll dine with me 
 to-morrow. What's that? You biberon! You 
 wish to ruin me. But I submit. Only I shall ask 
 a further favour. Send me a blank warrant, a 
 prise de corps, signed by yourself. Oh, never 
 mind the legality. It will serve my purpose. Fi 
 done! I am too old for pranks of that sort. It 
 is a jest of another pattern. Eh? Word of 
 honour. You will never hear of it except from 
 me. Yes! Yes. I assure you. That is ex- 
 tremely pretty of you. Thanks infinitely. You 
 shall rummage the cellar of the Cardinal to your 
 heart's content. Ah! farceur! Heart and 
 stomach are the same with you, you say? Chut! 
 Chut! I shall not listen to you." He laughed, 
 and broke the communication. 
 
 " What are you going to do with policemen and 
 warrants ? " I asked as he turned to take up the
 
 302 Marcel Levignet 
 
 cup of coffee which Joseph had brought in while 
 he was talking. 
 
 " I am going to keep my ten o'clock appoint- 
 ment with Madame Clifton." 
 
 "You mean to give her in charge?" 
 
 "Oh, dear no, innocent young man! I shall 
 only play what you Americans call the bluff. It 
 will insure me an interview with Madame, and that 
 is all I ask." 
 
 " But if she is not at home? " 
 
 " I shall await her return. Come, come, mon 
 enfant, put off that unwholesome countenance. 
 You give me an uncomfortable desire to turn you 
 into the street. You are as unsociable as a wet 
 blanket. Let us remember that the day is a God- 
 send of beauty, and make something of it. I have 
 the afternoon at my disposal, and I wish to be glad 
 in it. If you can bring your good-humour into the 
 foreground, I'll keep company with you; other- 
 wise, I must take leave of you. Which will it be 
 an arm-in-arm stroll in the sunshine or au 
 revoir? " 
 
 " I mean to keep with you." 
 
 "Truly? Then put on a smile and your hat. 
 We'll go to your hotel if you wish to change your 
 linen, for we may care to drop into the Bazaar to 
 buy a buttonhole flower if our purses are long 
 enough. By the way, do you ever lounge in the 
 Pare Monceau ? "
 
 Marcel Levignet 303 
 
 " I have visited it." 
 
 " It isn't what it was in the old days, but it is 
 still the most picturesquely romantic jewel in the 
 ornamental charm of Paris. This is the children's 
 hour. I love to sit in a shady nook of la Nau- 
 machie and watch them, listen to them, join some- 
 times in their frolics. I have gone there many a 
 time to sweeten myself from the reek of vulgarity. 
 Let us stroll that way. I want the tonic of child- 
 ish laughter."
 
 XXXV 
 
 IN the company of an enthusiast of beauty the 
 Pare Monceau is indeed the spring of 
 imagination. The exquisite display of 
 flowers and rare plants, the expanse of water wind- 
 rippling to the base of the semicircle of ivy- 
 mantled, bough-embowered Corinthian columns 
 named la Naumachie, the tangle of noble trees and 
 the utter freedom from reminders of the mean and 
 sordid, might set the fibres of the dullest nature 
 tingling to the measure of poetry. Levignet 
 breathed deep as we entered through the gilded 
 gates, and as we passed the groups of tiny aristo- 
 crats for they were the butterfly children of the 
 rich who then sported in the loveliness of this for- 
 tunate garden his white hair and beard were 
 suddenly transformed from the badge of age 
 into the fantastic masque of a truant juvenile. 
 Levignet was a boy at heart, and he went back 
 with a rush to the spirit of hoop and top at the 
 slightest hint of circumstance. How often I had 
 seen the transition, and loved him for it! How 
 many memories of this up-leap of young sincerity 
 \ are precious to me now ! The man who keeps 
 ready in his heart the treasure-trove of his clean 
 
 34
 
 Marcel Levignet 305 
 
 boyhood has ransom when the great Audit is 
 made up. 
 
 The iron chairs in the shadow of a broken 
 column, half hidden in ivy, invited us to sit down 
 within speaking distance of a trio of dainty mid- 
 gets labouring at heaps of gravel with a shovel the 
 size of a spoon. Levignet gave them directions, 
 and even aided them with his stick, until by de- 
 grees their busy toil edged them away from us to 
 raise heaps further down the path, which they 
 builded, laughing. 
 
 " Ah ! Summerville, someone has said there is 
 nothing half so holy in life as the innocent laugh 
 of a child. And it is true. Something renovat- 
 ing goes through one to hear it. They are the 
 4 young-eyed Cherubins ' of your Shakespeare, and 
 I have an idea that their delicate, pure ears catch 
 sometimes the harmony of the singing orbs which 
 the ' muddy vesture of decay ' shuts from the souls 
 of us worldings. You remember the lines I mean ? 
 
 " 'There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 
 But in his motion like an angel sings, 
 Still quiring to the young-eyed Cherubins; 
 Such harmony is in immortal souls: 
 But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
 Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it." 
 
 Ah ! chere petite! " 
 
 One of the children running along the path 
 stumbled and fell, driving her plump hands
 
 306 Marcel Levignet 
 
 cruelly against the fine gravel; but before she had 
 quite made up her mind to cry, Levignet was lift- 
 ing her to her feet, cheering her with endearments, 
 and making such an indignant clamour against the 
 naughty path for having thrown her, punishing the 
 ground with his stick, that the little one forgot 
 the occasion for tears and, laughing at the funny 
 man, went back to her play with increased mirth- 
 fulness. 
 
 " You are so fond of children," I said, when 
 Levignet came back to his chair, " I wonder you 
 never married, to have a family of your own." 
 
 It was a remark in jest, but Levignet, beating the 
 toe of his boot with his stick, answered slowly and 
 in regretful tone: 
 
 " I have dream children of my own always 
 young, always clambering on my knees to fling 
 their arms about my neck and snuggle their faces 
 in my beard. It has been so for thirty years, ever 
 since the dream began, ever since I knew it was 
 only to be a dream. I have never told you. 
 There is always some corner of the heart that we 
 use as a shrine, where no one lights a candle but 
 ourselves, and where we go in solitude to kneel 
 before the altar of memory." 
 
 He leaned over, resting his forehead on his 
 hands clasped on the silver top of his heavy stick. 
 After a silence, which I respected, he went on talk- 
 ing, without raising his head, so that I scarcely
 
 Marcel Levignet 307 
 
 knew whether he was confiding his thoughts to me 
 or speaking unconscious of my presence. 
 
 " I was twenty-five. Elise was coming to her 
 eighteenth birthday, the day appointed for our 
 marriage. The house in which I now live was 
 chosen by her; together we furnished it, though 
 for the most part it was her fancy that was fol- 
 lowed. The home is the woman's world. It / 
 pleased me to have her say how things should be. 
 But it was her mother who pulled me by the ear 
 and whispered in her friendly way, '* This room 
 shall be the children's room, Marcel, my son; and 
 you must let me put it ready for my grand-chil- 
 dren.' We were very merry when we came to 
 make up the list of guests; but there was a name 
 we did not write down, and He, the Unbidden, 
 was the only guest who came. It was the Carni- 
 val week, too. She was so in love with the frank 
 gaieties of life, she was so much a part of the 
 sweet sunshine, that it seemed strange, strange that 
 the echoes of mirth from the boulevards did not 
 wake her as we followed her through the still 
 and empty streets winding away from the mad 
 happiness toward the City of Silence. It was my 
 first ride to Pere Lachaise. I have been so many 
 times since. Soon I shall go again. It is well 
 to have waited and been waited for for thirty 
 years. It is good to have dreamed and kept faith 
 with your dreams. And if to the dream of youth
 
 so8 Marcel Levignet 
 
 has been added an illusion of age well, to have 
 been faithful it is necessary that one should have 
 been human too." 
 
 His voice had sunk to a barely distinguishable 
 murmur, and I had leaned nearer to hear him, 
 when he raised his head with a sudden nervous 
 jerk, struck his stick against the ground and ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Mon Dieu! Summerville, we are falling 
 asleep ! Let us stir our stumps. The children 
 have found us too dull for playfellows, and have 
 deserted us. And I have come without any crumbs 
 in my pockets for the sparrows. There is nothing 
 for it but to tramp. I'll walk with you to the 
 toile, if you say so, provided my knee does not 
 suddenly turn refractory. I've a moment's busi- 
 ness in the Avenue Kleber. Then we'll take a cab 
 to your hotel, and you shall give me a mouthful 
 of that American whiskey to economise while you 
 touch up your toilet. Happily a bourgeois of my 
 pattern does not have to prink." 
 
 He abandoned himself to a fantastic humour as 
 we idled toward the Arc, and though I listened to 
 him and laughed at him, my mind was tormented 
 by its vain efforts to devise a scheme to keep him 
 from going to the meeting with Madame Clifton 
 that night. My abstraction acted as a spur to 
 his mischievous spirit, or else he was trying to 
 obliterate from his own mind the melancholy of
 
 Marcel Levignet 309 
 
 his semi-reverie in the park, for he joked with 
 street urchins, bandied words with pedlars, took 
 in hand a carter's balking horse, and altogether 
 was as little like the sober M. Levignet as any 
 gamin. In the Avenue Hoche we came upon a 
 street singer, a blind, dark-headed Apollo, still 
 young, playing his own accompaniment on a repu- 
 table violin, a woman old as the sibyl holding by 
 the skirt of his coat and offering leaflets of his 
 songs for sale. I had heard this chanson 
 d'Amour piped by a metallic tenor in one of the 
 free music halls, but the rich cadence of the man's 
 mellow baritone gave soul and character to air and 
 words, a touching pathos to the double refrain, 
 " Pourquoi partir, Ninon; pourquoi partir, 
 Ninon!" 
 
 Levignet stopped in front of the singer, who 
 had a scattered audience of ten or a dozen persons 
 none too willing to part with their sous, enjoying 
 but holding aloof. 
 
 " Excellent, my friend," said Levignet, in 
 French, when the song was done. " You have 
 given me true pleasure. You have a voice for 
 better things. Is it not so, my friends? " he asked, 
 turning to the people near him. " One pays for 
 art in Paris; is it not so? I have paid twenty 
 francs for worse at the Opera. Shall we recom- 
 pense our artist? Come; I will set the example." 
 
 He took off his hat and dropped into it a five-
 
 310 Marcel Levignet 
 
 franc piece, and then, with an inviting smile, held 
 it to the right and left about him, moving here and 
 there, crossing the street to a lady who laughingly 
 held up a franc to tempt him, the blind singer and 
 his old mother clinging together in their astonish- 
 ment, with nothing more eloquent to say than a 
 varied repetition of " Monsieur." 
 
 " There, mother," said Levignet, emptying his 
 hat into the woman's apron ; " you see the people 
 love music. For me, I love it best in the open." 
 
 " The good God is in your heart, monsieur," 
 quavered the old woman, in thin child's voice. 
 
 " In the hearts of all of us, mother, did we but 
 know it." 
 
 " Monsieur," said the singer, " is it too much 
 to ask that I may shake hands with you ? " 
 
 " Are we not brothers? " asked Levignet, clasp- 
 ing the outstretched hand. 
 
 We went on up the Avenue, Levignet less prank- 
 ish than he had been, and the voice of the singer 
 came after us in a more ambitious song; but the 
 words and the tune were still to my inner hearing 
 the haunting refrain of the other melody, grown 
 mysteriously and sombrely prophetic. 
 
 " Pourquoi partir? pourquoi partir?."
 
 XXXVI 
 
 IF you will sit on that bencK there," said 
 Levignet, when we had crossed the Place de 
 1'fitoile, " you will find it more amusing than 
 cooling your heels in an anteroom while I am 
 closeted with Maitre Bordone. I'll not keep you 
 waiting long enough to bore you. Take a cigar 
 for company." 
 
 He left me seated and entered the Avenue 
 Kleber. This Maitre Bordone was the advocate 
 who had charge of Levignet's affairs ; and, though 
 I knew that the newspaper, financial investments 
 and enterprises of less importance gave Levignet 
 excuse enough for consulting his lawyer, the call 
 at the private residence, in the middle of the after- 
 noon, suggested to me that the visit was by appoint- 
 ment for business of a more intimate character 
 than usual. But as he chose to leave me ignorant 
 of his object, I rebuked my curiosity in the begin- 
 ning of its speculation, and fell to reviewing my 
 relations with Levignet to the time when our ac- 
 quaintance began so accidentally. It was six or 
 eight years before. I had been strolling along the 
 grand boulevards, and was inattentively crossing 
 to the Porte Saint Martin, when suddenly I felt 
 myself seized by the collar and jerked violently
 
 312 Marcel Levignet 
 
 back, just as a motor wildly driven, as in the early 
 days of unrestricted motoring was the practice with 
 arrogant chauffeurs rushed past. Though I had 
 been saved from injury, possibly from extinction, 
 I was inclined to be angry with the person who had 
 handled me so unceremoniously, and turned rather 
 sharply on my rescuer. One resents being made 
 ridiculous by a liberty, even at the profit of life, 
 and the consciousness that I had blundered like a 
 yokel made me the more eager to justify my in- 
 telligence. 
 
 " What the devil do you mean, monsieur," I 
 demanded in loud voice, " by assaulting me in this 
 fashion I " 
 
 " You were about to be run over, monsieur," 
 said Levignet, for Levignet it was, with a smile 
 of irritating good-humour. 
 
 " That was my affair, monsieur," I retorted, re- 
 adjusting my coat and receiving my hat picked up 
 by a woman. 
 
 " Pardon me, monsieur, but I did not wish to 
 see a mess in our beautiful street." He lifted his 
 hat and was passing on, the people about laughing 
 at his sally, when good sense got the better of my 
 caddishness. I laughed foolishly, gave the grin- 
 ning woman a pourboire and overtook my non- 
 chalant saviour. 
 
 " Monsieur, be good enough to attribute my bad 
 manners to surprise not altogether free from fear.
 
 Marcel Levignet 3 1 3 
 
 The shock, you understand I am most grateful 
 to you." 
 
 He looked at me, his eyes twinkling, his mous- 
 taches spreading with the smile under them. 
 
 " I am sorry to see, monsieur, that I a little dis- 
 arranged your necktie. Will you permit me? " 
 
 He set the tie right with a touch, and we went 
 down the boulevard together, presently arm-in- 
 arm to prevent our separation by the throng. So 
 began an acquaintance that rapidly ripened into 
 intimacy, for, as Levignet put it, u what seemed a 
 chance encounter was really a directed reunion of 
 spirits that had been congenial in a forgotten past." 
 He laughed as he said it, but, as I have more than 
 once intimated, Levignet was a believer in in- 
 scrutable things. For me he wore his heart on 
 his sleeve; to the world at large he was as much 
 an enigma as any of his fellow worldings. To be 
 downright open and expansive now and then, 
 throwing off reserve and letting the native man 
 break through the armour of convention that 
 mutual distrust and jealousy have welded on us, 
 is a privilege which all men covet, but which few 
 have the courage or the opportunity to enjoy. 
 Levignet gratified his need of occasional self-dis- 
 covery in the freedom of his talks with me. I 
 came to such a knowledge of him through these 
 unguarded avenues of sentiment that I was taught 
 to recognise in my own heart an unsuspected capa-
 
 314 Marcel Levignet 
 
 city of tenderness for the mixed caravan journeying 
 across the oasis-dotted desert of Time toward the 
 hostel of Eternity. The best in one's nature 
 always responds to the sincerity of another and 
 Levignet might have declared with de Maistre 
 " I love everyone that lives, and even inanimate 
 things have part in my affections. I love the 
 trees that bestow their shade on me, and the birds 
 that gossip in the leafage; I love the nocturnal cry 
 of the owl and the roar of rushing waters; I love 
 everything I love the moon. You laugh. It is 
 easy to turn into ridicule the sentiments that you 
 have never experienced; but the heart that re- 
 sembles mine will understand me." 
 
 It was better than the love of woman to have 
 known and understood Marcel Levignet. 
 
 " Hello I day-dreaming? " 
 
 Levignet had approached without my notice, 
 and his words were accompanied by a thrust of his 
 stick against my side. 
 
 " M. Bordone was ready for me, so I have not 
 to apologise for keeping you waiting; but you are 
 a sleepy-head by nature." 
 
 " I wasn't asleep. I was thinking.* 
 
 " It is a vice to think with your eyes shut when 
 there is so much brightness and animation about 
 you. Come; pull yourself to your feet. I've 
 mapped out a programme for the afternoon. It
 
 Marcel Levignet 3 1 5 
 
 is now but a little after three. We'll drive to your 
 hotel, that you may make yourself irresistible, and 
 then drop into the Bazaar for half-an-hour, if our 
 funds hold out so long. Afterwards we'll take a 
 constitutional in the Bois. At five o'clock a bateau, 
 have an early dinner at an excellent little restau- 
 rant, with a charming river terrace, kept by one of 
 my father's old servants. He has an admirable 
 faculty for doing things to please me. At seven 
 we return to Paris in an open carriage, and at 
 eight-thirty I'll bid you good-night and set you 
 free of my company. How does the arrangement 
 suit you? " 
 
 " Capitally, except for the ' good-night.' We 
 must amend that part of it." 
 
 " Positively, no. I shall have pumped you dry 
 by that time, and have no further use for you. An 
 empty man is like an empty bottle an irritating 
 strain on the nervous system. Get in." 
 
 We took our places in the fiacre he had stopped, 
 and drove to the hotel. On the way Levignet 
 gave me a small sealed packet. 
 
 44 This is something Bordone has been keeping 
 for me these many years. The idea occurred to 
 me that you might find a wrist for it some day. I 
 bought it years ago for a purpose. I should like 
 you to have it. Humph 1 Is Marcel a name you 
 Americans ever give to your children? There is 
 such a devil of a bother choosing names sometimes.
 
 316 Marcel Levignet 
 
 I had a cousin who was called Hibou as long as 
 he lived, for the reason that to every name in or 
 out of the family proposed for his christening, my 
 uncle opposed a disdainful * chouette.' As 
 ' chouette ' also means a kind of owl, ' Owl ' my 
 unlucky cousin became, and was finally laughed 
 into his grave with it. Poor devil of a Hibou ! 
 A man's name, let me tell you, has an undoubted 
 influence upon the formation of his character." 
 
 " I believe you." 
 
 " You have no prejudice against the name 
 Marcel?" 
 
 " On the contrary, I like it." 
 
 " Ah ! well. You may have a boy some time. 
 Who knows?" 
 
 " May I open this packet? " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 Breaking the seal, I uncovered a morocco case, 
 in which was a beautifully jewelled bracelet, a 
 single stone of great value caught in an exquisite 
 lacework of golden leaves. 
 
 " My dear Levignet " I exclaimed in astonish- 
 ment, holding the bracelet to catch the sunlight, 
 " why do you give me this? " 
 
 Looking up at the equestrian statue of Jeanne 
 d'Arc which we were just passing, he replied, 
 lightly: 
 
 " It was bought for a wedding present. Give 
 it to Madame Summerville on your marriage
 
 Marcel Levignet 317 
 
 morning. Ha ! it has been too long hidden away 
 in the darkness. There is a sort of crime in keep- 
 ing gems secreted from the light from which they 
 extract such wonderful beauties. The vulgar 
 world holds the opinion that the progress of civil- 
 isation is marked by commercial stadia ; as a matter 
 of fact it is measured by the jeweller's microscope. 
 Profusion is barbarism; selection is art; art is the 
 touchstone of civilisation; and the highest of all 
 arts is the proper cutting and setting mind, I 
 say proper of nature's perfected minerals and 
 metals. Your stockbrokers, and fishmongers, and 
 politicians will not admit as much; nor will those 
 queer creatures who achieve a sort of celebrity by 
 their knowledge of Greek roots or their acquaint- 
 ance with the chemical values of guanos; but the 
 proof of my statement lies in the fact that among 
 the arts the jeweller's enjoys the pre-eminent dis- 
 tinction of being the only one that is not utilitarian. 
 A picture is a substitute for wall paper; a statue 
 breaks an expanse, defines an angle or corrects a 
 vacancy; but a jewel, properly speaking, is as use- 
 less as a lily or a rose or the smile on a baby's lips 
 yet these things are more precious than all the 
 ships that go out to sea and all the heaped-up 
 stones that make a city of palaces." 
 
 " You forget music among the arts, Levignet." 
 
 " Oh ! my God ! Summerville, are you a 
 
 Boeotian! Music among the arts! The miracu-
 
 3i8 Marcel Levignet 
 
 lous voice of Nature and the soul, that is every- 
 where intelligible and potent, an art! In that 
 sphere, my friend, the more art the less music, the 
 less inspiration. The Great Musician has a 
 thousand instruments Norway pines and Lom- 
 bardy poplars Alpine torrents and meadow 
 rivulets the roar of winds in caverns or over the 
 hills of the driven sea bird song and midge hum 
 a thousand thousand instruments that make more 
 wonderful music than all your fiddles and trumpets 
 and drums and tinkling or droning keyed-machines 
 can counterfeit. I will allow you to call music a 
 science an inexhaustible science but I quarrel 
 with the man who insists upon calling it an art. 
 An art is perfectible by the hand of man; God 
 alone can perfect music. I am ready for that 
 mouthful of whiskey you promised me."
 
 XXXVII 
 
 FOLLOWING Levignet's programme, we 
 started a little before four o'clock for the 
 rue Jean Coujon and the Charity Bazaar. 
 Neither of us had a great liking for crowds, even 
 those of " Tout Paris," but to Levignet Toin- 
 ette's playful appeal to " come and buy " was a 
 mandate, and obedience to it was not only a duty 
 but a pleasure. He was in his best mood of 
 effervescent good-nature, and had a jest or an 
 anecdote for every historic house or monument we 
 passed in our circuitous drive. In the Place des 
 Victoires, over which Louis XIV, robed and 
 crowned as a demi-god, seems forever on the point 
 of plunging his massive stallion, he said with a 
 chuckle : 
 
 " I never think of the glories of our Louis when 
 I see that statue. On the contrary, I strip him of 
 the sacred robe and set him in velvet coat and knee- 
 breeches in front of an old Swiss gardener, among 
 the flower beds of the Pare Monceau when it was 
 a royal pleasure-ground. Old Schoene, the gar- 
 dener, was a character. He loved three things 
 jealously in the order of their importance the 
 king, a short-stemmed black pipe, and his flowers. 
 
 319
 
 320 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Schoene smoked as he breathed; he would as 
 readily have been deprived of his nose as of his 
 pipe, and he made no more of blowing smoke into 
 the face of his Majesty than into the petals of a 
 rose. But on this morning of which I speak, Louis 
 was accompanied by the queen and one of the 
 princesses ; and when they came upon Schoene, who 
 continued to puff away at his pipe while responding 
 to questions, the king, who loved the old fellow, 
 thought a reprimand necessary. ' Mark you, 
 Schoene,' he said severely, ' I let it pass that you 
 smoke in my presence; I cannot, however, pardon 
 the affront to her Majesty and her Highness. 
 Throw away that pipe.' Not a bit of it. The 
 old fellow straightened himself up as best he 
 could, and, still puffing between his words, replied 
 slowly, ' If his Majesty is displeased with me as a 
 gardener he may send me away. It would break 
 my heart, but I should die with my pipe between 
 my teeth.' Louis looked at him a moment, 
 laughed, clapped him on the shoulder indulgently, 
 and said, ' Eh ! well, my friend, smoke your 
 pipe ! ' That is the way I like to think of Louis. 
 They may toss all his grand exploits and vain- 
 glorious conquests into the river Lethe, if they will 
 leave me that incident in proof of his manhood. Is 
 it not extraordinary that artists always seize on the 
 grandiose and ignore the human when they set 
 about immortalising the memory of a man ? Could
 
 Marcel Levignet 32 1 
 
 anything be more ridiculous and incongruous than 
 that romanesque, ramping effigy of Louis we have 
 just seen? A sun-dial would have been as much 
 to the purpose. But we French have a passion 
 for men on horseback. A mannikin on a Nor- 
 mandy mare could sweep us to the devil in our 
 enthusiasm if he had impudence enough to ride 
 down a few of us first. Positively, the strangest 
 thing in human nature is the way mankind pros- 
 trates itself before the impotent idols of its own 
 creation. The secret of it is that we must worship 
 something, and since we cannot content ourselves 
 with an invisible, and, therefore, possibly non- 
 existent God, we what was the word I heard you 
 use the other day? Ah! I remember we bam- 
 boozle ourselves by putting our fellow-mortals on 
 pedestals and burning incense before them. 
 Demos was, is, and ever will be a drivelling idiot. 
 He deserves that the man-on-horseback should 
 have his animal shod with spiked brass. Here 
 we are ; and not the first to arrive, either." 
 
 The street was choked with carriages, and our 
 approach to the stretch of wooden sheds that 
 cheaply imitated the street scenes of the seven- 
 teenth century was so hindered that we alighted 
 and made our way to the doors on foot. 
 
 It was the second day of the benevolent enter- 
 prise so successfully promoted by the ladies of the 
 haut ton, and the bourgeoisie, which always waits
 
 322 Marcel Levignet 
 
 to see which way the wind blows, was oppressively 
 represented. 
 
 " This is rather more than I bargained for," 
 Levignet complained as we edged our way along 
 the main passage between the stalls. " If I have 
 an eye for a crowd, there are five thousand people. 
 How is one to get a look at beauty, when he is 
 busy keeping his feet off the trail of her gown! 
 Everyone is dressed as if she were arrayed for the 
 Grand Prix, which is abominable. I, who was 
 built to walk with a stride, must mince my steps 
 like a dancing master. It is tantalising. But you 
 would come." 
 
 " I would come, Levignet! " 
 
 " It is too late to argue the matter. We must 
 make the best of it. Ah ! look there to your right. 
 The venerable lady surrounded by a bevy of pretty 
 women. It is the Duchess d'Alengon, type of our 
 French noblesse in the great days epitome of our 
 best traditions une vraie grande dame. Napoleon 
 said that the chief need of France was mothers; 
 yes, of that pattern. Had the court ladies of the 
 last two Louis been women of the Duchess d'Alen- 
 gon's stamp, Napoleon would never have mounted 
 the throne of the Bourbons, for there would 
 have been no Revolution to clear the way for 
 him." 
 
 " Which would have been a pity, all things 
 considered."
 
 Marcel Levignet 323 
 
 " That is as one may think. For my own part, 
 I am of the opinion that the strength and integrity J 
 of a country may be measured by the purity of its 
 women. Ah ! here is your opportunity to buy me j 
 a cigar-case that I shall never use. The cheapest 
 of them will do. I believe in homoeopathic 
 phlebotomy, as far as you have the choice. Thank 
 you, madame, I prefer this one. My friend will 
 pay you. Be as charitable with him as your good- 
 will for your sister stall-keepers will allow, for we 
 wish to distribute our patronage. You are right; 
 it all falls into one bag in the end but there is 
 more pleasure in scattering crumbs to the sparrows 
 than in throwing them a whole loaf at once. Be- 
 sides, madame, I am an amateur of smiles; and, 
 charming as yours are, I would sample the assort- 
 ment," he lifted his hat, " even though I must 
 return at last to you." 
 
 " Polichinelle ! " said the lady good-naturedly, 
 and turned to other patrons. 
 
 A few stalls further, we were impeded by a 
 crowd viewing some object evidently of amusing 
 interest. Levignet stood on tiptoe to peer over 
 the heads, and said as we pushed on: 
 
 " It is the booth of the sprightly Duchesse 
 d'Uzes. You have heard of her in connection with 
 the Boulanger tragi-comedy. Not a bad social 
 engineer, her Grace ; plenty of zest, some wit, and 
 rather ready with her pen,; but when it comes to
 
 324 Marcel Levignet 
 
 the political perimetre, the feminine sense of 
 proportion " 
 
 I did not heed the finish of his sentence, for my 
 attention was attracted to a booth we were passing 
 by a laughing voice that touched a chord of recent 
 memories. Looking into the stall, where several 
 ladies were talking with bargaining friends, I 
 caught a glimpse of brilliant eyes in which was a 
 scornful pride that seemed to temper the sensuous 
 beauty of lips I could have picked out of ten 
 thousand. 
 
 I pulled Levignet brusquely by the arm, and 
 whispered into his ear: 
 
 " Look! the woman in the middle there. It is 
 my lost ' Helen of Troy.' " 
 
 He looked as I directed him. 
 
 " Impossible I " he exclaimed. " You are dan- 
 gerously mistaken." 
 
 " I will swear to her." 
 
 " First you will jump from the Eiffel Tower. 
 
 The lady is " He whispered a name in my 
 
 ear. " You see it is impossible or, what comes 
 to the same thing, you must think of it as im- 
 possible. Along with you. I have located 'Toin- 
 ette." 
 
 He dragged me away with him, urging his way 
 toward the stall where 'Toinette shone pink-robed 
 among her assistants. It was some time before 
 Levignet could get a word with her, her wares
 
 Marcel Levignet 325 
 
 editions de luxe, autograph books, signed sketches 
 by well-known artists, etc. possibly, the beauty of 
 herself and the young ladies with her holding 
 quite her share of the money-spending throng. 
 But it mattered little to Levignet. He was con- 
 tent to stand in beaming contemplation of her face, 
 scarcely desisting when he exchanged vivacious 
 remarks with friends who chanced to drift by 
 him. 
 
 But for the risk of being separated from 
 Levignet, and so losing him for the evening, I 
 should have seized the occasion to return to 
 '" Helen of Troy," for his whispered warning had 
 piqued instead of extinguishing my zest of adven- 
 ture. I had a mind to play my impudence against 
 the scorn of those black eyes, flattering myself that 
 I had the wit to steer clear of breakers. I was 
 half unconsciously easing away from Levignet, 
 when he touched my shoulder with the top of his 
 stick. 
 
 "La voila," he said. 
 
 "Who?" I asked. 
 
 " Madame Beelzebub." 
 
 He tipped his stick slightly, pointing to the left. 
 Three stalls away, I saw Madame Clifton, a picture 
 ojf sedate benevolence, having the air of the pre- 
 siding genius of all the Charities. 
 
 " Marvellous woman ! " he muttered, in a tone 
 of sincere admiration. " Have I not said that
 
 326 Marcel Levignet 
 
 she could make a fool of Sarah at her own trade ? 
 What a pity she missed the door." 
 
 A swirl of the crowd brought us opposite 'Toin- 
 ette, and she obligingly turned from gossip with 
 an unproductive group to greet Levignet, curving 
 out an ungloved hand to him. 
 
 " So you did come to save me from neglect, bon 
 ami! And M. Summerville, too. How good of 
 you both." 
 
 "You are wrong, Baroness; it is not to For- 
 tunata we come with our mites. We are in search 
 of the stall of the deserted lady." 
 
 " Then you must push your way into the street, 
 and look for her at a church door," 'Toinette 
 laughed. " But is it not divine, the fervour of 
 our Parisians to befriend the poor? " 
 
 " Ah ! Baroness, if it were that ! " 
 
 " Miserable ! to bring your scepticism here. 
 Take him away, M. Summerville, before he cor- 
 rupts my patrons." 
 
 " Not until I know the price of this book that 
 excites my cupidity." He held up a dainty volume 
 of de Musset. 
 
 "To another, fifty francs; to you three hun- 
 dred not a centime less, infidel." 
 
 " Ridiculously cheap. It is mine. And I will 
 add another hundred if you will scribble a presen- 
 tation line on the fly leaf." 
 
 " A presentation line? "
 
 Marcel Levignet 327 
 
 " Yes I suddenly remember that I am to have 
 a birth anniversary to-night. You can't refuse to 
 make me a present of your autograph." 
 
 She took up a gold pencil suspended from her 
 waist and wrote a line. 
 
 ' You might have had it as a gratuity," she 
 said, smilingly handing him the book, '" but as the 
 servant of Charity, I dare not profane an offering 
 by declining it." 
 
 Levignet glanced at the writing " Happiness 
 to the friend I most esteem 'Toinette " held it 
 before my eyes and exclaimed, " Have I not the 
 best of the bargain, friend Summerville! But I 
 cannot rest in a lady's debt, dear Baroness. I im- 
 provise a fete in celebration of my birthday and 
 bid you and the Baron to honour it. Will you 
 come ? " 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " To-night at eleven." 
 
 "Very well, where?" 
 
 " Hotel Foyot. I sacrifice fashion to gastron- 
 omy. Besides, it is an anniversary habit. I owe 
 that much to the Rive Gauche. Ghosts of my 
 youth keep carnival there. They must find me 
 faithful, eh?" 
 
 "Are none of them troublesome? Ghosts are 
 such egotists." 
 
 " Not my sort, Baroness. My memory is dis- 
 criminating. I give you my word I have never
 
 328 Marcel Levignet 
 
 had a nightmare, nor an accusing regret. Let 
 your mind be tranquil. I do not invite you to a 
 Macbeth banquet, but to a revel of laughing 
 phantoms will-o'-the-wisps of Bohemia I " 
 
 " In that case, count on me." 
 
 "And the Baron?" 
 
 " Naturally." 
 
 'Toinette divided a smile of good-fellowship 
 between us and gave her attention to other patrons, 
 Levignet and I falling in with the drift of the 
 crowd, my spirits exalted by the arrangement for a 
 supper at the Foyot. I expressed my satisfaction. 
 
 "Are you so gourmond?" asked Levignet. 
 
 " It is not that; my gratification is in your change 
 of programme." 
 
 " Change ! Extension. I have but added 
 another item to round out the symphony." 
 
 " Even so, the fact that you plan for a jolly 
 evening argues " 
 
 " ' Carpe diem' mon enfant. Enjoy the day. 
 To the devil with arguments. One plans for 
 pleasure in the hope that the Goddess Chance 
 may take care of the plan. If the sequences be 
 disordered soitl anticipation counts for some- 
 thing in the cycle of destiny. Good heavens 1 
 imagine life stripped of its illusions I Ah I stop a 
 moment." 
 
 We were in front of Madame Clifton's booth, 
 and he drew me aside to it. Madame and her two
 
 Marcel Levignet 329 
 
 young helpers were selling flowers for corsage and 
 buttonhole, and Levignet took up a sprig of lilac 
 which he inspected without appearing to be aware 
 who was in charge of the booth. 
 
 " Ten francs at the least, I warrant you," he 
 said speculatively eyeing the sprig and its knot of 
 ribbon. 
 
 " Twenty, Monsieur Levignet." 
 
 Levignet looked up, and affected surprise on see- 
 ing the speaker. 
 
 " Ah ! Madame Clifton, it is you ! Good luck. 
 I take it as a happy omen that I stumble on your 
 stall for my boutonniere." 
 
 "How so, monsieur?" Madame asked, her 
 hard lips scarcely softening in a smile. 
 
 " Why, these flowers are an augury of the 
 felicity that is to come to me with your incom- 
 parable carriage horses, madame." 
 
 " I sent you word that I had concluded not to 
 sell." 
 
 There was just a perceptible unpleasantness in 
 her casual tone, but Levignet did not seem to 
 detect it. He nodded smilingly. 
 
 " Oh 1 I understood, of course, that your note 
 was a courteous intimation that I had undervalued 
 your treasure; but," he put down the twenty 
 francs for the sprig already in his buttonhole, " if 
 I cheerfully pay double the estimated price for a 
 posy that pleases me, you may be sure that I shall
 
 330 Marcel Levignet 
 
 not hesitate to give full value for the thing I may 
 happen to think necessary to my happiness." 
 
 Madame gave a little laugh that was almost 
 mirthful. She seemed about to put into words the 
 mockery that glinted in her eyes, and Levignet 
 tilted his head expectantly. But as she paused on 
 a " Well, monsieur," someone called to her from 
 the other end of the stall. She glanced in that 
 direction, nodded and moved away from us. 
 Levignet raised his hat in a parting salute of which 
 she was unconscious. 
 
 '" Misguided woman," he sighed, and lifting the 
 lapel of his coat inhaled the fragrance of the 
 lilacs. "What a pity," he added, "that a 
 woman's cleverness so generally reacts on herself." 
 
 He took my arm and we made our way gradu- 
 ally to the exit and passed out into the free air. 
 It was good to escape from the oppression of an 
 atmosphere charged with all the drowsy perfumes 
 that gay women love. 
 
 " Dieu ! " exclaimed Levignet, inflating his 
 lungs. " I am more than ready for our drive in 
 the Bois. What in the name of the legion of 
 saints would become of the Parisian if he did not 
 have that superb laboratory of nature in which to 
 restore his chemical waste! I grant you that he 
 does not always go there with an intelligent pur- 
 pose to conserve physical energy or develop moral 
 stamina; but what of that? If in the chase of
 
 Marcel Levignet 331 
 
 Folly you run into the embrace of Hygeia, why 
 quarrel with the incentive? Here is a suitable 
 cab. Take your place. An hour in the Bois, 
 cocker. And, if you please, friend Summerville, 
 let us drive in the fellowship of silence. I have 
 the instinct of what you would say, and I am not 
 in a combative humour. The scent of these lilacs 
 under my nose calls up a memory of my youth. I 
 shall slip into Arcady, listen to old Pan piping to 
 the water nymphs, and possibly dance with divini- 
 ties in gossamer. It is a familiar pastime with 
 me. If you buzz me into consciousness before I 
 round out my reverie, I'll dump you by the wayside 
 and dine without you sorry as I should be to 
 leave you unacquainted with the excellent Andre's 
 cuisine. Is it understood?" 
 
 " Oh I I think I can manage to scare up a reverie 
 of my own." 
 
 " Sensible fellow. We may compare notes 
 afterwards. A man seldom dips well down into 
 himself without bringing something valuable to 
 the surface. The whole secret of life lies in the 
 knowledge how to explore the wonderland of self. 
 The philosopher's ' Ton gnothe ' is the end-all 
 and mend-all for which the silly alchemists fired 
 their crucibles in vain. The only difference be- 
 tween you and me and the fat imbecile on the box 
 there, is in the faculty of introspection. Allons, 
 done! Let us indulge our superiority."
 
 XXXVIII 
 
 THAT Levignet should go to the ends of 
 the earth for a dinner seemed to be a 
 freakish bit of business, until we were 
 settled at a table on the terrace of the " Little 
 White Cottage," which was neither white nor a 
 cottage, but a grey-toned mystery of haphazard 
 architecture overrun with creepers. The terrace, 
 sheltered from the sun by a canopy of ivied lattice- 
 work, went down to the water's edge, the barrier 
 of loose stone being scarcely a foot above the wash 
 of the river. From where we sat there was hardly 
 a house to be seen and Paris was a century away. 
 Men and boys, clad only in breeches, were sport- 
 ing in the river, a huge black, noisy dog in the 
 frolic, women and girls on the bank enjoying the 
 spectacle, calling out jests to the swimmers, throw- 
 ing sticks for which dog and boys contended. 
 Further out in the stream some young people in 
 boats seemed bent on a general capsising and went 
 rocking and drifting by, the girls nervous and 
 shrieking to the mischievous laughter of their tor- 
 mentors. The ensemble was as near an approach 
 to Arcadian joy, simplicity and charm as civilisa- 
 tion knows how to make, and I should not have 
 
 332
 
 Marcel Levignet 333 
 
 been greatly surprised to see Levignet plunge in 
 to wanton among the amphibians. 
 
 "Well?" demanded my friend, viewing my 
 satisfaction, " can you forgive me for whipping 
 you away from the adventures of the rue Royale 
 and its fashion plates? " 
 
 "Farceur!" 
 
 Andre, proprietor of the "Little White Cot- 
 tage," round and short, with clean double chin 
 nearly obscuring his fresh white collar and tie, his 
 stout legs straining at their black casing, came 
 trotting from the house beaming with pride and 
 affection as he panted out apologies for not having 
 been ready to welcome his " Ires cher ami et loon 
 patron " at the door. He accused himself un- 
 sparingly as he shook Levignet' s hand; telling me 
 that he would not esteem a visit from the President 
 as honourable to him and his house as the presence 
 of " this foremost of men who has now to pardon 
 my first affront " ; declaring that his infidelity would 
 cost him an age of regrets; laughing, chattering 
 and wiping away tears in a joyous self-abasement 
 to which he seemed prepared to sacrifice the re- 
 mainder of the afternoon. 
 
 " I swear, Andre, you will make me repent of 
 coming if you slander yourself with another word," 
 Levignet succeeded in making him understand. 
 
 " Then I should repent of having been born," 
 Andre replied, falling back into an attitude of
 
 334 Marcel Levignet 
 
 respectful attention to order. " When the son of 
 Prosper Levignet commands, it is the pleasure of 
 Andre Laroche to obey." 
 
 " Not at all, old friend. You must give M. 
 Summerville no false impressions of our thirty 
 years of fraternity." 
 
 " Fraternity ! Ha ! you heard him say ' frater- 
 nity,' monsieur, so I do not presume. But shall 
 I tell you what he means by ' fraternity ' ? " 
 
 " Have a care, Andre. We come to dine with 
 you, not to listen to a discourse on terms. I am 
 hungry. No trifling with appetites that come so 
 far for service." 
 
 " Your appetite shall be flattered, have no fear. 
 I have not been idle since your note came. But 
 1 fraternity ' between Marcel Levignet and Andre 
 Laroche ! Monsieur shall judge." 
 
 " You would waste your breath, my good Andre, 
 my friend here is an American; he will not under- 
 stand your French. If you would have him know 
 how unworthy I am to be your brother, you must 
 find a way to tell him in English." 
 
 " Ah ! Marcel Levignet, you will yet manage to 
 break my heart. You choke me off always the 
 same; but some day I shall speak. And if 
 you will pardon me for saying it, monsieur," 
 Andre looked as sorrowfully at me as the good- 
 natured round of his face would permit, " no 
 gentleman should be ignorant of French. It is a
 
 Marcel Levignet 335 
 
 crime not to understand the language in which the 
 good God first spoke to man." 
 
 Levignet laughed as I looked blankly out on to 
 the river as if I had not understood. 
 
 " That is true, Andre, but you see how little 
 my friend appreciates it. You must reason with 
 him through the stomach. What have you to 
 eat?" 
 
 " Leave all to me. You shall see if those fel- 
 lows who give themselves airs in Paris have a 
 monopoly on the art of good living. I do not 
 profess to serve all the world alike; but when it 
 comes to tickling the palate of a certain Marcel 
 Levignet well, the filysees chef may take off his 
 cap to old Andre." 
 
 So saying and wagging his head in right self- 
 approval, he trotted into the house, recovering 
 spirits with every bounce. 
 
 " You have cheated my curiosity by a cheap 
 trick, Levignet. What act of benevolence is he so 
 eager to proclaim to your credit ? He doesn't look 
 like a man who has been in the shadow of the 
 gallows or the chopping block." 
 
 "No," Levignet smiled; "it was his father. 
 But do not predicate a romance of which I am the 
 hero on the prattle of this antique infant. The 
 thing was sordid and prosaic enough one of the 
 commonplaces of low life. You may see some- 
 thing like it any day under the ' Fails Divers ' of
 
 336 Marcel Levignet 
 
 your daily paper. Jean Laroche, Andre's father, 
 had a passion for absinthe and dribbled his wits 
 away as the water dripped over the sugar into his 
 glass of poison. You know that sort of thing 
 must lead to something. A hammer in the hands 
 of a madman and a woman sleeping in her bed 
 suggest a denouement; Pere Lachaise for the 
 woman; Charenton for the man, a natural epi- 
 logue. Andre was then ten he is five years my 
 senior and he had a sister of three. My father 
 saw the lad cuddling the babe in his arms, and be- 
 ing of the weakly compassionate order of irration- 
 alists, undertook their protection. That is the 
 whole of it. When my father wearied of the 
 world and left me the heir to the fruits of his in- 
 dustry, in closing out the business I allowed Andre 
 a trifle which he has multiplied into a snug fortune 
 by ministering to the gluttony of ne'er-do-wells 
 like you and me. Until a year or so ago Andre 
 kept his wits as orderly as his cash accounts and 
 was content to let me come and go without molesta- 
 tion. But he is dropping prematurely into senility 
 has lost his sense of proportion has contracted 
 the disease of gratitude fancies himself under 
 obligations to me exalts me into a demi-god of 
 disinterested benevolence forgets that we were 
 comrades in our artless days and tries to get under 
 my feet innocently blind to the fact that he has 
 only to scorch my omelette or serve me an under-
 
 Marcel Levignet 337 
 
 done entree to blight the sympathy of years and 
 alienate me forever. He nearly cooked his goose 
 with me a dozen years ago by paying into my bank 
 the principal and interest of the bagatelle I gave 
 him for a start in life. I refused to see him for a 
 twelve-month. Then we compromised, he taking 
 back the pittance and I agreeing to eat dinners 
 with him till the score was cleaned off. An obstin- 
 ate old chucklehead, but lovable except for his 
 mania. We must keep him from ridiculous out- 
 bursts by speaking English when he hovers over 
 us in solicitude." 
 
 A capital dinner timed its courses with the 
 idling down of the sun and the diminuendo of the 
 river noises; and when the cloth was removed for 
 the finishing bottle of wine, there was a silence so 
 serene that we could catch the thin, sharp cheep 
 of the bats venturing into the purple twilight. 
 
 Andre came balancing a crusted bottle which 
 he set on the table with reverence. 
 
 "Though there is no label, I can assure 
 you " 
 
 " Chut! " interrupted Levignet. " Do you think, 
 Andre, that we have no nicer taste than those 
 fantastic amateurs who swear by tagged vintages? 
 I'll risk my digestion on the corner of your cellar 
 from which this bottle came." 
 
 Andre chuckled, carefully wiped the bottle's 
 mouth and filled our glasses, the wine, by some
 
 338 Marcel Levignet 
 
 subtle necromancy of its own, stealing back a faint 
 glow from the invisible sun. 
 
 " Fetch a glass for yourself, and drink with us, 
 Andre." 
 
 " I ! not for the world." 
 
 " It is for my pleasure, imbecile. I wish you 
 to drink my father's health." 
 
 Andre turned without a word and went into the 
 house. When he came again he only half filled 
 his glass, tinkled it against ours and holding it be- 
 fore him said: 
 
 " In love of your father, Marcel Levignet, I 
 am on an equality with you. Each of us owes our 
 life to him. You were his son; eh, well! I, too, 
 was his son. Good. I drink to his health and 
 yours. Levignet, father and son." 
 
 He drank, dividing his wine into two swallows, 
 the first with a glance heavenward, then bowing to 
 Levignet. The glass emptied, he shattered it 
 against the edge of the table. 
 
 " And they say there is no loyalty left in the 
 hearts of men," Levignet said sotto voce in Eng- 
 lish. " My father has been dead nearly thirty-six 
 years, and yet this old fellow well, Summerville, 
 let us drink long life to Andre Laroche and the 
 dinners of the 'Little White Cottage.'" He 
 dipped his glass toward me and we drank. 
 
 Andre rubbed his hands comfortably together 
 and smiled.
 
 Marcel Levignet 339 
 
 " There is not much more of life left for me and 
 I have no heir to keep up the dinners but what 
 of that? I have lived; I am alive; when all is 
 done it will suffice if they may write on my tomb- 
 stone, ' An Honest Man and a Good Cook.' " 
 
 " An epitaph Napoleon might envy you, Andre. 
 Some cigars, if you please." 
 
 A little later, while we were smoking alone, en- 
 joying the stillness and the slow deepening of the 
 twilight, Levignet suddenly asked, after some 
 minutes of silence: 
 
 " What, to your mind, is the noblest passage in 
 literature, sacred or profane, ancient or modern? " 
 
 I had no ready answer, but after some hesitation 
 repeated a passage from Shakespeare. He nodded 
 in appreciation. 
 
 " Superb, truly. There is a majesty in your 
 paragon of poets, a grandeur, that makes us feel 
 very little when we measure our intellectual stature 
 by his. But you will laugh at me, I fear I 
 think the sublime in literature is not that which fills 
 our minds with wonder at the author's genius, but 
 that which exalts our hearts by the simplicity of its 
 truth. For me there is nothing written that can 
 excel in beauty, in purity, in nobility, this sentence 
 from the New Testament : * Greater love hath no 
 man than this, that a man lay down his life for his 
 friends.' It is perfect as an expression of the 
 loftiest possible conception of human privilege."
 
 340 Marcel Levignet 
 
 An indefinable something in his tone impressed 
 me, and prompted me to combat his view. 
 
 " That cannot be taken literally as a truth, nor 
 interpreted as a privilege. The conceivable cir- 
 cumstances in which a man may really lay down his 
 life are of so extraordinary a character that they 
 may be said never to arise for the individual. 
 Even the soldier goes into battle nerved by the 
 chance of escape in his favour. Whatever the 
 danger into which a man thrusts himself or is 
 driven, he struggles to preserve his life, hoping for 
 the miraculous when the odds are overwhelming. 
 Man may yield up his life splendidly when the de- 
 mand is inexorable nothing in the ordinary course 
 of human experience gives him the privilege of 
 laying it down voluntarily." 
 
 " Tut, my dear Summerville," he replied airily, 
 " don't talk in that sterile, orthodox fashion. It 
 puts such a dull limit to the excursions of mind and 
 the expansion of soul. That, my boy, is the 
 philosophy of the nursery, logically, but stupidly, 
 applied to the universal cosmogony. It belongs 
 to the infant reasoning that evolved the Jovian 
 myths. Good heavens I Do you still imagine 
 that divinity is imprisoned by a carcass? Do you 
 fancy that man's egotistic assumption concerning 
 his godhood is really a deistic ordinance ? Do you 
 suppose that man's theological theories affect the 
 motion of the spheres ? What fatuity ! Look at
 
 Marcel Levignet 341 
 
 these bats in their erratic chase of invisible midges 
 how they vanish as you try in vain to follow 
 their swerves with your eyes. How do you know 
 that one of them has not swerved down into the 
 river as food to the fishes ? And what do you care 
 if one has? But is it any more than that when a 
 man takes his plunge and shakes free of the flesh 
 with which his five senses have for a time deluded 
 him ? Do you fancy that he is done with life for 
 the plunge? Not a bit of it. He has only 
 changed the combination and seized on the privi- 
 lege of new experience. Change is not demolition, 
 my friend; neither is death definitive, for life is not 
 an apportionment of years. Our bodies are merely 
 pawns to serve our purposes in the grand game of 
 destiny in which we are more or less intelligent 
 players. What is the sacrifice of a pawn if you 
 establish a winning combination ? The game goes 
 on when the pawns are gone. I shall be an entity 
 in spite of the grave. The burial of this body, 
 when I have done with it, will not prevent me go- 
 ing on with my phantasy of self-evolution. And 
 if I may quit my body when disease has made it 
 untenantable, may I not quit it when I find it un- 
 profitable ? I may change my coat when I please ; 
 I can throw it away, if I will or I may give it to 
 my friend for his protection. Do you think I am 
 less free to do as I please with the surtout that is 
 called my life? Let me say one thing for the
 
 342 Marcel Levignet 
 
 ease of conscience my reason does not admit the 
 possibility that man can mar, by the most in- 
 finitesimal fraction of change, one of God's plans 
 any more than he can stop the revolution of the 
 universe. Man can lay down his life at will; 
 therefore, I must believe that neither the destruc- 
 tion nor the preservation of human life has any 
 bearing on the inscrutable ordering of the divine 
 intelligence. I am willing to think that the Christ 
 saw as clearly into the mystery of existence as mind 
 can penetrate, and by your leave, I shall hold to 
 my opinion that the loftiest conception of human 
 privilege is, that a man may lay down his life for 
 his friend. It is more than my opinion, it is my 
 conviction; and living is more real, significant, 
 glorious in my conception because with that con- 
 viction goes a sentimental feeling that would 
 make it as easy and as pleasant for me to kiss my 
 hand in an adieu to life for my friend's sake as it 
 would be to pluck a rose for the adornment of 
 beauty." 
 
 " But to take a life, Levignet " 
 
 " We do it daily, hourly. The child running 
 in the innocent joy of a butterfly chase, crushes 
 colonies of peaceful citizens of the clover fields 
 under her dainty feet. It is only egotism that has 
 got us into the way of thinking that man's life is 
 more precious to nature than the life of the gnats 
 our bats are catching over the river. Value lies in
 
 Marcel Levignet 343 
 
 service, my dear infant; and, logically, obstruction 
 impairs value. The survival of the fittest is not a 
 theory, it is an inexorable law of progress. I 
 do not say that the law has my entire approval, 
 but I yield to it, and Ah! it is you, Gas- 
 pard!" 
 
 " At your service, m'sieu'." 
 
 I looked around at the man who had approached 
 from my rear, and as he took off his hat there 
 was light enough on his face for me to recognise a 
 footman I had seen on the box of Madame Clif- 
 ton's carriage. I recalled the name as that of the 
 servant who had assisted in the outrage on 
 Levignet. 
 
 " Has Madame Clifton sent you to me? " 
 
 " No, m'sieu', I come to warn you." 
 
 " That is very good of you, Gaspard. Warn- 
 ings always afford me entertainment. What is the 
 nature of yours ? " 
 
 '' This gentleman " Gaspard hesitated. 
 
 " M. Summerville shares my interest in what the 
 immortal Balzac styles the Human Comedy. He 
 is in my confidence ; admit him to yours. Begin by 
 telling us how you traced me to this charming re- 
 treat, for it hints of cunning, Gaspard, a quality in 
 servants that insures them some sort of elevation. 
 Who knows but you will be Minister of Police, 
 Gaspard?" 
 
 " It was simple enough, m'sieu'. I called at
 
 344 Marcel Levignet 
 
 your house and your man said you would dine here. 
 I took the chance of finding you." 
 
 " Excellent. You see what it is, Summerville, 
 to have established a reputation of methodical con- 
 duct. Had we altered our programme this fine 
 fellow would have been cheated of the reward of 
 noble action and you and I would have missed a 
 zestful finale to our symposium. But I must tax 
 Joseph with indiscretion." 
 
 " He only talked when I had convinced him that 
 it was to your interest, m'sieu'." 
 
 " Imagine anyone cajoling our foolish old 
 Suzel, friend Summerville ! Well, Gaspard, what 
 is it?" 
 
 The fellow fumbled with his hat, either reluct- 
 ant to begin, or uncertain what to say. Finally 
 he stammered out an opening. 
 
 " I have always been ashamed of what occurred 
 that day, m'sieu'. But my place has been a good 
 one, I could not throw it away. Well, I have 
 wished to make amends. That is why I come now 
 to tell you what I have heard. Madame and the 
 Marquis were talking this afternoon. It is not 
 my habit to listen; but I heard your name and 
 madame was so angry that I listened. They 
 have laid a trap for you. They think you will 
 come to madame's house to-night. Well, m'sieu', 
 if you do there will be an ' accident.' They swear 
 you shall not escape alive."
 
 Marcel Levignet 345 
 
 " Ah I they swear that, do they, Gaspard? And 
 you would add to your warning the advice that I 
 postpone my visit to madame? " 
 
 " Indefinitely, m'sieu'." 
 
 ' You are a philosopher, Gaspard, and I should 
 like to take further counsel of you on terms profit- 
 able to yourself. Come into the house with me 
 for a few moments I Wait for me here, Summer- 
 ville. Diana is about due; fancy yourself En- 
 dymion and beguile the time till I rejoin you." 
 
 He went in with Gaspard, and to stretch my 
 legs I left the terrace and strolled along the river 
 bank. Allowing twenty minutes for the confer- 
 ence, I returned to the terrace, but as there was no 
 sign of Levignet, I sat down to a glass of wine and 
 a fresh cigar. The stars were changing from sil- 
 ver to gold in the deepening blue of the sky, drop- 
 ping nearer and nearer to the tree tops, and there 
 was no sound louder than the splash of an oar on 
 the further side of the river. Some subtle sense 
 of association called up vividly before my mind an 
 altogether different scene a sweep of the Gulf 
 Coast with the dawn flooding into splendour; a low 
 house with a long verandah, and there at the win- 
 dow a girl's face, wonderful, wistful, looking to- 
 ward the morning; and yonder by the myrtle hedge 
 a youth looking toward the girl's face, wonderful, 
 wistful. The fragrance of magnolias, the song of 
 the mocking bird, the rippling plash of the bay,
 
 346 Marcel Levignet 
 
 the flash of jewels that the breeze tried to steal 
 from the climbing roses, the glory of the dawn, 
 the light in the woman's eyes and the passion of 
 the youth what more is needed for an after-din- 
 ner reverie ? I do not know how long I had been 
 absorbed in it when Andre roused me by setting a 
 candle on the table. 
 
 " I brought the light that you may read the 
 note," he explained. 
 
 "What note?" 
 
 " The one M. Levignet bade me give you half 
 an hour after he had gone." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that M. Levignet is 
 gone?" ' 
 
 " Half an hour ago fully half an hour ago, but 
 no more ; I was exact." 
 
 I tore open the note, not a little agitated, nor 
 did I feel reassured by the lines. 
 
 " It distresses me to give you the slip, but you know it 
 was according to programme that I should take leave of 
 you at half past eight, and I do not so much anticipate the 
 hour but you can forgive me. However, we are to meet 
 at the Foyot, you remember; and I am going to ask you 
 to oblige me by getting there a little earlier than the ap- 
 pointed time say 10:30 but do not come in a temper. 
 I find this Gaspard a very sensible fellow. He has saved 
 me no end of trouble. But he is improvident. He refuses 
 some feathers I offer him for his nest. Or it may be that 
 he prefers to garrote me on the way to town. I should 
 be very sorry not to preside at my fete ; but if Gaspard or
 
 Marcel Levignet 347 
 
 any other minister of fate deprives me of my felicity, be 
 gracious enough, my dear Summerville, to act as my 
 deputy. Au revoir and do not attempt the quixotic. 
 
 " M. L." 
 
 I felt a chill in the soft air of the evening, I 
 became limp and nerveless. The note fell from 
 my hand to the ground. Andre stooped anxiously 
 to pick it up. 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! " he said " why is Monsieur so 
 disturbed? What does the good Marcel say? " 
 
 Without asking my leave, he read the lines and 
 laughed, a relieved, good-natured laugh that 
 angered me. 
 
 "Hoi Hoi A little joke at the expense of 
 monsieur," he chuckled. 
 
 " A joke at which you will not laugh to-morrow, 
 my friend, so enjoy it while you may." 
 
 I rose and pushed past him as I spoke, hurried 
 to the gate and went out into the highway. Andre 
 followed, panting in alarm, calling after me, now 
 pleadingly, now threateningly, alternately offering 
 me the blessing of a saint or threatening me with 
 the vengeance of the furies; but though I pitied 
 him afterward, my eagerness to get to Paris com- 
 pelled me to ignore him then. I never again saw 
 Andre Laroche, though I dined the other day on 
 the terrace of " La Petite Chaumiere Blanche."
 
 XXXIX 
 
 ARRIVED in Paris, I drove straight to 
 Levignet's residence. Joseph opened the 
 door to me and answered my questions 
 without seeming to attach any importance to them. 
 M. Levignet had come home an hour ago, evidently 
 in capital spirits. He had dressed for the even- 
 ing. He had gone away but a few minutes before 
 I came. No; he had not said where he was going, 
 but he had excused Joseph from waiting up. Yes, 
 he had telephoned to the Prefect of Police, telling 
 him there would be no need to send the men he 
 had promised. Yes, he had said why he had 
 nothing for them to do, he had changed his plan 
 of entertainment. The Prefect said something at 
 which monsieur laughed, and monsieur invited 
 the Prefect to lunch to-morrow. 
 
 " And now, M. Summerville, may I get the card 
 monsieur left for you? " 
 
 " Why didn't you get that in the first place, you 
 blockhead?" 
 
 " Monsieur forgets that he has been questioning 
 me." 
 
 Joseph bowed to excuse himself and went for 
 the card. It bore but a couple of lines in Eng- 
 lish in Levignet's fine script. 
 
 348
 
 Marcel Levignet 349 
 
 " I knew you would try to collar me, novice. Go dress 
 for 10:30, Hotel Foyot. Room engaged." 
 
 I thrust the card into my pocket and returned to 
 my cab, persuading myself that after all I had 
 little reason to fear any untoward incident as the 
 result of Levignet's eccentric conduct. Apparently 
 something had arisen to alter his purposes. He 
 no longer had a use for the Prefect's men, and he 
 emphasised the appointment for a merry supper at 
 the Foyot. Clearly he was bent on an evening alto- 
 gether different from that of my gloomy fore- 
 boding. Yet why had he stolen away from me in 
 the company of the fellow Gaspard? What was 
 the communication Gaspard had made to him? 
 Was it of a character to strengthen or abate the 
 resolution to which Levignet had committed him- 
 self? Was his light humour simulated or genuine? 
 Was the invitation to the Foyot an artifice or bona 
 fide? I could not subdue my doubts in spite of 
 my hopefulness. I tried to think of something 
 worth my doing as I stood hesitating to enter the 
 cab. Mechanically I looked at my watch in the 
 light of the street lamp and found it to be a quarter 
 to nine. A sudden remembrance that nine was 
 the hour at which Levignet had intended to make 
 his call on Madame Clifton, decided me to drive 
 to her address. I gave the cabman the order. It 
 was just nine when I alighted at the door. The
 
 350 Marcel Levignet 
 
 house was dark, but for the dull glow shining 
 through the fanlight. I rang the bell feverishly. 
 
 "Madame Clifton?" I demanded when the 
 door was opened by the lackey. 
 
 " Not at home, monsieur." 
 
 " At what hour is she expected? " 
 
 " I cannot say when madame will return, mon- 
 sieur." 
 
 " But madame was prepared for a visit at this 
 hour." The man gave a slight start, and I felt 
 sure that Madame Clifton was in the house. 
 
 " It is imperative that I see her," I insisted. 
 
 "Are you M. Levignet?" he asked, trying to 
 get a better view of me, as I stood in the shadow. 
 
 " Yes," I answered promptly, inferring that he 
 did not know Levignet. 
 
 " I was to tell M. Levignet, if he called, that 
 
 Madame Clifton will Pardon me, monsieur, 
 
 I was to know you by your white hair and mous- 
 tache. If you will be so obliging as to stand in 
 the light." 
 
 " I am not M. Levignet, but I represent him. 
 I come in the interest " 
 
 " Pardon me, monsieur." 
 
 The door was closed in my face as I was at- 
 tempting to enter, but there was no response to my 
 repeated knocks. I could not stand there to 
 create a disturbance, but, certain that Levignet had 
 not yet called, I determined to wait in the neigh-
 
 Marcel Levignet 351 
 
 bourhood and watch for his coming. Sitting in 
 the cab, which I kept crawling up and down the 
 block or loitering at the corners, I let half an hour 
 go by before it occurred to me that Gaspard had 
 prepared Levignet against the very trap into which 
 I was trying, with belated and misdirected zeal, to 
 prevent his falling. With some uncomplimentary 
 reflections on my peculiar astuteness, I gave up the 
 idea of playing guardian to a man so little likely 
 to benefit by my services, and ordered the cabman 
 to drive to my hotel. 
 
 That a man's moods change with his dress is, I 
 believe a common experience, and when I had put 
 on my evening clothes my ideas came into harmony 
 with the social pleasantries suggested by that attire. 
 My prophetic vision was rose-coloured; I could 
 hear the musical laughter of 'Toinette, and see the 
 mirthful sparkle in her eyes as she clinked glasses 
 with Levignet and wished him a hundred years' 
 addition to his perennial youth. De Noel's well- 
 bred gravity I fancied giving way to hilarity as 
 Levignet recounted, in satirical humour, the prank 
 he had played on me in the afternoon. Jest and 
 mirth, and gaiety to the splash of champagne, and 
 Levigent's fete night memorable through a score 
 of years ! I fell into a nervous impatience to par- 
 ticipate in the scene so cheering to my imagination, 
 and arrived at the Foyot a quarter of an hour in 
 advance of my appointed time.
 
 352 Marcel Levigent 
 
 M. Levignet had not yet come, they told me, 
 but the rooms were in readiness if I chose to go up, 
 though supper was not to be served until eleven. 
 
 "Yes, I am early; M. Levignet will be here 
 presently, however. I'll wait upstairs." 
 
 I was shown to a parlour on the first floor, and, 
 in the room opening from it, the table was laid with 
 four covers, exquisitely decorated, a great mass of 
 pink and white roses spraying out from a central 
 vase. It was very comforting, and with a satisfied 
 sigh, I threw myself into an armchair by the open 
 window of the parlour and lighted a cigarette. 
 
 " Monsieur has but to ring," the waiter said, 
 and left me alone. 
 
 I could see the Senate clock from where I sat, 
 and I watched the long hand slowly descending to 
 mark the half hour; but before it reached that 
 point the door opened and I turned as Levignet 
 entered. 
 
 He wore a light grey overcoat buttoned to the 
 chin, his face was colourless, and he leaned 
 heavily on his stick as he walked from the door. 
 I had risen on seeing him, but he was the first to 
 speak, I was so alarmed by his appearance. 
 
 " Ah ! you are on time, Summerville. Thank 
 God for that." He sank into a chair and threw 
 his hat aside. 
 
 "What's the matter, Levignet?" 
 
 *' Humph my knee," he smiled, holding out a
 
 Marcel Levignet 353 
 
 hand to me. " That pestilent Prussian bullet has 
 waked to life. It troubled me to get up the stairs 
 alone, but I wouldn't allow a servant to steal any- 
 thing from our privacy." 
 
 " But a glass of wine " 
 
 " No; I want nothing. Help me to my place at 
 the table. I have a fancy to sit there as I talk. 
 I shall not bore you long. I am not going to be 
 loquacious. Beautiful roses." 
 
 He inhaled their fragrance before he sat down, 
 easing himself, as I thought, painfully into the 
 chair. 
 
 ' You are suffering very greatly, Levignet." 
 
 " No, only economising vitality. Sit down. 
 Minutes are precious. I do not know how soon 
 we may be interrupted." 
 
 " Let me help you off with your coat." 
 
 " Thank you, I'll wear it. My veins are cool- 
 ing. I feel all my years huddling suddenly on me 
 to-night. Sit down no, this side; that chair is 
 for 'Toinette. When she comes you must tell her 
 
 for me " He paused, giving his moustache the 
 
 familiar twist that indicated a whimsical turn of 
 thought. " What an egotist she will think me ! I 
 am half in the way to believe, dear Summerville, 
 that a man may find himself very much out in his 
 estimate of values when he comes to the Final 
 Audit. Eh? Your valuation and mine, for 
 example how much is our romance worth in the
 
 354 Marcel Levignet 
 
 alembic of mortality? Men wear tolerably in the 
 practical grind; but women is a man worthy 
 their tears after all? " 
 
 He smiled, but his head leaned wearily against 
 the high back of his chair. 
 
 " In Heaven's name, Levignet, what is the mat- 
 ter with you? You are not yourself and there 
 is something about you that " 
 
 " Gives you the horrors? " 
 
 " That alarms me. Something has hap- 
 pened " 
 
 "Yes, a casualty; a leaf whipped from the 
 tree; but you see me fighting shy of it in spite of 
 the swift running of the sands in my tiny glass. 
 We are palterers to the last, are we not, Jack? " 
 
 It was the first time he had addressed me by that 
 familiar name, and the word came like the revela- 
 tion of overwhelming things. I felt as if my heart 
 had been gripped in a suffocating pressure. I 
 tried to speak, but only leaned forward with my 
 hand on his arm, staring into his pale face, wait- 
 ing, knowing what he would say. 
 
 His eyes closed slowly, but the wan smile re- 
 mained on his lips. 
 
 " You remember the story I told you of the 
 palatine Baneban? " 
 
 "My God! Levignet." 
 
 " Call me Baneban." 
 
 An impulse to lock the door, barring out the
 
 Marcel Levignet 355 
 
 world brought me to my feet, and I crossed the 
 supper room, but as I turned the key of one door, 
 a waiter entered at the other. 
 
 " M. Pontfort desires to speak to M. Levignet," 
 he said as I came toward him. 
 
 Pontfort was the Prefect of Police, but I should 
 have pushed the waiter from the room and closed 
 the door, had not Levignet cried out : 
 
 " Ah, my old friend ! Invite him in, Summer- 
 ville." 
 
 The Prefect was in the hall and entered without 
 bidding. He nodded for the waiter to go, and 
 shut the door. His strong, clean face showed signs 
 of deep emotion. He passed me without speak- 
 ing and went up to Levignet, who held out his 
 hand. 
 
 " Eh ! Pontfort, do you intend to get a supper 
 out of me as well as the luncheon I offered you for 
 to-morrow? Well, there will be room for you at 
 the table, and even you cannot exhaust the Foyot 
 cuisine, gourmand." 
 
 " I do not come to sup, Marcel Levignet. It 
 is not your friend Pontfort who has come but 
 the Prefect of Police." 
 
 " Quibbler ! The fact that the Prefect of Police 
 has come in person and unattended proves that it 
 is my friend Pontfort who refuses me his hand. 
 But I'm strangely sleepy, Pontfort." 
 
 " Mon Dieu, mon Dieu ! Marcel old friend
 
 356 Marcel Levignet 
 
 Marcel, how was it possible you could commit such 
 a crime? " 
 
 He seized Levignet's hand as he spoke and there 
 came a gush of tears from his eyes. 
 
 " Crime, Pontfort? The instrument of divine 
 retribution, my friend, knows nothing of crime. I 
 have played an ordered part; but truth to say, I 
 did not play it altogether well. I have always told 
 you, Summerville, the Clifton was a marvellous 
 woman. Admirable to the last. Too clever to 
 let me have all the honours. No; honours are 
 easy between us." 
 
 He spoke slowly, sleepily, and the last words 
 were hardly more than audible. 
 
 "You are faint, Levignet; I'll ring for wine," 
 I said. 
 
 " No. Let no one come, I need nothing." 
 
 He said this clearly, but the next instant his eyes 
 closed, and I heard him murmuring, " Greater 
 love hath no man." 
 
 He looked up. " Ah ! It is you, Pontfort. 
 Take my hand. And you, Summerville. There 
 was to have been a fete. We were to have 
 been merry. Well, let us not be sad. The roses 
 are here. 'Toinette will come. Roses and 'Toin- 
 ette. What better for an evening's end or a 
 life's? For me what could I give to love but 
 roses and life! Roses and life. Roses and life. 
 A carriage has stopped at the door. De Noel is
 
 Marcel Levignet 357 
 
 handing out 'Toinette. 'Toinette in white. She 
 is dressed for my fete. I must go to welcome 
 her." 
 
 He had closed his eyes when he took our hands 
 and he talked dreamily and at last seemed to fall 
 into a slumber, the scarce breathing slumber of a 
 child. It was so natural and easy, and his smile 
 was so serene, and there had been so little to arouse 
 a doubt that his drowsiness was due to anything 
 other than fatigue, that I was startled when Pont- 
 f ort exclaimed : 
 
 " His hand is like ice. He has fainted. Get 
 some water." 
 
 He bent forward and unloosed the coat Levignet 
 had kept buttoned to the chin, but as he flung it 
 open he uttered a great cry and staggered back as 
 if he had received a blow. Turning to look, I 
 heard 'Toinette's voice as the door of the further 
 room was opened for her. But for that, I too, 
 would have cried out in the agony of that terrible 
 surprise and the shock of knowing that he had 
 sat there through so many wasting minutes, with 
 never a word or plaint or warning on his smiling 
 lips. Trembling, I caught together the folds of 
 his coat, and hurriedly buttoned them over his 
 breast the brave, generous breast that was alto- 
 gether done with troubling. 
 
 'Toinette in the room beyond, jested, laughing, 
 with de Noel.
 
 358 Marcel Levignet 
 
 '' Truly, mon ami, we have come in advance of 
 our host. May we not arrange some trick to 
 punish this truant Levignet? " 
 
 Pontfort went in to them and closed the door, 
 leaving me alone with my friend.
 
 ONE who will may read in the journals of 
 the day what I choose to omit from this 
 memoir of a man I loved. It is not in 
 the deeds of men, but in the motive to conduct, that 
 the Angel of Judgment will search for the Jewel 
 of great price. To pass through the portal shriven 
 or unshrifted, to go forth with the oil of pardon 
 on the brow, or only with the light of a serene 
 soul in the tranquil smile what does it matter, if 
 the man has lived in unselfishness? If at the last 
 I may wear such a smile as made the still face of 
 Marcel Levignet beautiful in the sunlight of the 
 perfect morning, men may speak of me as they will 
 it will be well with me. 
 
 And yet Levignet missed the knowledge of his 
 greatest service. It was the third day of the 
 Charity Bazaar. Prostrated by the grief and 
 nervous shock 'Toinette was kept from her booth 
 on that awful day. It was as if the spirit of 
 Levignet had saved her from flame, as years before 
 he had rescued her from the water. In death as 
 in life, he was her benefactor. 
 
 The calamity of the afternoon made Paris for- 
 get the sensation of the morning. But three of 
 
 359
 
 360 Marcel Levignet 
 
 us, de Noel, Pontfort and I, followed Levignet 
 to Pere Lachaise. 
 
 The morning after, my trunks ready for my 
 quitting Paris, I went for a lone farewell visit to 
 my friend's grave. It was in the remote corner 
 of the cemetery where four generations of 
 Levignets were at peace. As I entered the en- 
 closure I saw a woman lying face down across 
 the new mound. She did not answer when I spoke 
 to her. I touched her on the shoulder. I raised 
 her head to look into her face. 
 
 It was old Suzel. There was a new image of 
 St. Joseph in her hand. Her clothes were drenched 
 and earth-splashed. 
 
 It had rained through the night. 
 
 THE END
 
 A 000 040 675 1