The Essential Writings of Marie Belloc Lowndes. Marie Belloc Lowndes

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СКАЧАТЬ at bitter leisure." The Prefect's voice lowered, a look of real distress came over his face. "Ah! what tales I could tell you--what fearful domestic tragedies have been confided to me here, within these four walls! No doubt for an artist this Mr. John Dampier was a very good fellow--what in England they call 'respectable enough.' But still, think what painters are like! Think of how Bohemian, how careless is their life, compared with that of the man who has a regular occupation--" Monsieur de Beaucourt shook his head gloomily--"In most of these stories of sudden disappearance there is no crime, as the relations are so apt to think there is. No, Monsieur le Sénateur, there is simply--a woman! Sometimes it is a new friend--but far oftener it is an old friend."

      There was a pause. "God forbid," said the Prefect suddenly, "that I should accuse this unfortunate man of anything heinous! But--but, Monsieur le Sénateur? You must have learnt through our Press, through those of our newspapers which delight in dragging family scandals to light, the amazing story of Count Bréville."

      The Senator was impressed, in spite of himself, by the other's manner.

      "I don't remember the name," he said thoughtfully.

      "Count Bréville," said the Prefect slowly, "was a man of deservedly high reputation, in fact one of the pillars of the Royalist party. He had a wife who adored him, a large family whom he adored, and they all lived an idyllic country life. Well, one day the Count's coat, his hat, his pocket-book (which was known to have been full of bank-notes, but which was now empty) were found on the parapet of a bridge near his château. It was given out--it was believed that a dastardly crime had been committed. And then, by a mere accident, it was brought to my notice--for there was nothing in the Count's dossier which could have led me to suspect such a thing--that a charming governess who had been in the employment of his Countess for some four or five years had suddenly left to join her family in the New World, and that her travelling companion was strangely like her late employer!"

      "Yes," said Senator Burton uncomfortably, "I think I do remember something of that story now."

      "All the world was let into the secret," said the Prefect regretfully, "for the family had confided, from the first, in the Press. They thought--what did they not think, poor, foolish people? Among other things they actually believed that the Count had been murdered for political reasons. But no, the explanation was far more simple. That high-minded man, that Christian gentleman, this father of charming children whom he apparently adored, had gone off under a false name, leaving everything that was dear to him, including his large fortune, to throw in his lot with the governess!"

      The Prefect came closer to Senator Burton. He even lowered his voice. "I had the Countess here, Monsieur le Sénateur, in this room. Oh, what a touching, what a moving interview! The poor woman was only anxious to have back her husband with no questions asked, with no cruel reminders. And now he is back--a broken man. But had he been an artist, Monsieur le Sénateur, would the Count have been traced? Of course not! Would he have returned? No, indeed! The Prefect of Police can do many things, Monsieur le Sénateur, but as I said just now, he cannot force an unwilling husband back to his wife, especially if that husband has already crossed the frontier. Come, Monsieur le Sénateur, confess that some such explanation of Mr. Dampier's disappearance has already occurred to you?"

      "Well," said Senator Burton slowly, "I confess that some such thought has crossed my mind. But in that case what a tragic fate for the poor young wife!"

      "Bah! Do you know the saying:--'Widowhood is the Marshal's bâton every woman carries in her knapsack!'"

      Senator Burton could not help smiling. Then he grew very grave. "But Mrs. Dampier, in the case you suppose, would not be a widow, Monsieur le Préfet: she would be neither maid, wife, nor widow."

      The Prefect looked surprised. "Ah yes! The English divorce laws are very conservative. But I suppose in the end such a marriage would be annulled?"

      "I suppose so," said Senator Burton indifferently.

      "I wish I could help you more," said the Prefect solicitously. He really wished he could, for he liked his kindly visitor. "Can you suggest anything that we could do to help you?"

      "Yes," said the Senator frankly. "My son, Monsieur le Préfet, has not the same trust in the hotel-keeper, Poulain, that I feel. Neither, I am bound to tell you, has Mrs. Dampier. I think it would be a relief to the poor young lady, if the hotel could be searched for some trace of Mr. Dampier's sojourn there. You see Mrs. Dampier is convinced--or seems to be--that her husband spent a night there."

      "Nothing is easier than to have the place searched," said the Prefect quickly. "I will arrange for it to be done to-morrow morning at eleven. Perhaps you, Monsieur le Sénateur, will inform the hotel people that a Perquisition is about to take place."

      Chapter X

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      As he walked away from the Prefecture of Police, Senator Burton told himself that the French were certainly a curiously casual people.

      How strange that the Prefect should have asked him to break the news of what was to happen at eleven o'clock the next morning to the Poulains! In America--and he supposed in England also--the hotel-keeper would have received a formal notification of the fact that his house was about to be searched, or, in the case that foul play was suspected, no warning at all. But here, in Paris, it was thought enough to entrust a stranger with a message concerning so serious a matter.

      Of everything that had happened in connection with this extraordinary Dampier affair, perhaps this having to tell the Poulains that their hotel was to be searched was the most disagreeable and painful thing of all to their American friend and kindly client.

      The Senator was now very sorry, that, in deference to his son's wish, he had made such a suggestion.

      On his return to the hotel he was surprised to find a woman he had never seen before installed in Madame Poulain's kitchen. Still, the presence of the stranger brought a sense of reprieve.

      He, Senator Angus Burton, the distinguished politician whom most of those of his fellow-countrymen whose opinion mattered would have said to be a particularly fearless man, dreaded the task of telling Madame Poulain that a Perquisition was about to take place in her house.

      He lifted his hat. "Is Madame Poulain out?"

      "She won't be long, monsieur; she and her husband have had to absent themselves for a little hour."

      "Are they both out?" asked the Senator. He had never in his long knowledge of the Hôtel Saint Ange known such a thing to happen--that both the Poulains should be out together.

      "Yes, monsieur. They have had to take that nephew of theirs, young Jules, off to the station. They are sending him to the country. He's in a sad state--he does nothing but cry, poor lad! I suppose he's in love--I've known it take young men that way." The woman smiled, smiled as a certain type of person usually does smile when giving disagreeable or unpleasant news. "It is very awkward for the Poulains to lose the lad just now, for they are very busy. I have no doubt--" she tossed her head--"that Jules has been working too hard; the Poulains are foolish not to have more help from outside. I came in just to oblige Madame Poulain while she and her husband accompanied Jules to the station. But I also am busy. I have my own work to attend to just as much as anybody else; and my three children are all working at the Exhibition."

      The Senator left the eager gossip, and began walking round the courtyard. He felt quite wretched. Jules, at no time a very СКАЧАТЬ