The Lerouge Case. Emile Gaboriau
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love you, and will miss you.’ ”
“Did he really say that?”
“Almost word for word.”
“Hypocrite!” growled the old fellow between his teeth.
“What did you say?” asked Noel.
“I say that he is a fine young man; and I shall be delighted to make his acquaintance.”
“I did not show him the letter referring to the rupture,” added Noel; “it is best that he should ignore Madame Gerdy’s misconduct. I voluntarily deprived myself of this proof, rather than give him further pain.”
“And now?”
“What am I to do? I am waiting the count’s return. I shall act more freely after hearing what he has to say. Tomorrow I shall ask permission to examine the papers belonging to Claudine. If I find the letters, I am saved; if not—but, as I have told you, I have formed no plan since I heard of the assassination. Now, what do you advise?”
“The briefest counsel demands long reflection,” replied the old fellow, who was in haste to depart. “Alas! my poor boy, what worry you have had!”
“Terrible! and, in addition, I have pecuniary embarrassments.”
“How! you who spend nothing?”
“I have entered into various engagements. Can I now make use of Madame Gerdy’s fortune, which I have hitherto used as my own? I think not.”
“You certainly ought not to. But listen! I am glad you have spoken of this; you can render me a service.
“Very willingly. What is it?”
“I have, locked up in my secretary, twelve or fifteen thousand francs, which trouble me exceedingly. You see, I am old, and not very brave, if any one heard I had this money—”
“I fear I cannot—” commenced the advocate.
“Nonsense!” said the old fellow. “To-morrow I will give them to you to take care of.” But remembering he was about to put himself at M. Daburon’s disposal, and that perhaps he might not be free on the morrow, he quickly added, “No, not to-morrow; but this very evening. This infernal money shall not remain another night in my keeping.”
He hurried out, and presently reappeared, holding in his hand fifteen notes of a thousand francs each. “If that is not sufficient,” said he, handing them to Noel, “you can have more.”
“Anyhow,” replied the advocate, “I will give you a receipt for these.”
“Oh! never mind. Time enough to-morrow.”
“And if I die to-night?”
“Then,” said the old fellow to himself, thinking of his will, “I shall still be your debtor. Good-night!” added he aloud. “You have asked my advice, I shall require the night for reflection. At present my brain is whirling; I must go into the air. If I go to bed now, I am sure to have a horrible nightmare. Come, my boy; patience and courage. Who knows whether at this very hour Providence is not working for you?”
He went out, and Noel, leaving his door open, listened to the sound of his footsteps as he descended the stairs. Almost immediately the cry of, “Open, if you please,” and the banging of the door apprised him that M. Tabaret had gone out. He waited a few minutes and refilled his lamp. Then he took a small packet from one of his bureau drawers, slipped into his pocket the bank notes lent him by his old friend, and left his study, the door of which he double-locked. On reaching the landing, he paused. He listened intently as though the sound of Madame Gerdy’s moans could reach him where he stood. Hearing nothing, he descended the stairs on tiptoe. A minute later, he was in the street.
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