The Secret of the Night
Was it necessarily in order to lose her father? Might it not be, on the
contrary, in order to save him? When one has rendezvous with an enemy it
is not necessarily to enter into his game, sometimes it is to disarm
him with an offer. Between these two hypotheses, which I alone took the
trouble to examine, I did not hesitate long, because Natacha’s every
attitude proclaimed her innocence: and her eyes, Sire, in which one
read purity and love, prevailed always with me against all the passing
appearances of disgrace and crime.
“I saw that Natacha negotiated with them. But what had she to place in
the scales against the life of her father? Nothing--except the fortune
that she would have one day.
“Some words she spoke about the impossibility of immediate marriage,
about poverty which could always knock at the door of any mansion,
remarks that I was able to overhear between Natacha and Boris Mourazoff,
which to him meant nothing, put me definitely on the right road. And I
was not long in ascertaining that the negotiations in this formidable
affair were taking place in the very house of Trebassof! Pursued without
by the incessant spying of Koupriane, who sought to surprise her
in company with the Nihilists, watched closely, too, by the jealous
supervision of Boris, who was jealous of Michael Nikolaievitch, she
had to seize the only opportunities possible for such negotiations, at
night, in her own home, the sole place where, by the very audacity of
it, she was able to play her part in any security.
“Michael Nikolaievitch knew Annouchka. There was certainly the point of
departure for the negotiations which that felon-officer, traitor to
all sides, worked at will toward the realization of his own infamous
project. I do not think that Michael ever confided to Natacha that
he was, from the very first, the instrument of the revolutionaries.
Natacha, who sought to get in touch with the revolutionary party, had
to entrust him with a correspondence for Annouchka, following which he
assumed direction of the affair, deceiving the Nihilists, who, in
their absolute penury, following the revolt, had been seduced by the
proposition of General Trebassof’s daughter, and deceiving Natacha,
whom he pretended to love and by whom he believed himself loved. At this
point in the affair Natacha came to understand that it was necessary to
propitiate Michael Nikolaievitch, her indispensable intermediary, and
she managed to do it so well that Boris Mourazoff felt the blackest
jealousy. On his side, Michael came to believe that Natacha would
have no other husband than himself, but he did not propose to marry a
penniless girl! And, fatally, it followed that Natacha, in that infernal
intrigue, negotiated for the life of her father through the agency of a
man who, underhandedly, sought to strike at the general himself, because
the immediate death of her father before the negotiation was completed
would enrich Natacha, who had given Michael so much to hope. That
frightful tragedy, Sire, in which we have lived our most painful hours,
appeared to me, confident of Natacha’s innocence, as absolutely simple
as for the others it seemed complicated. Natacha believed she had in
Michael Nikolaievitch a man who worked for her, but he worked only for
himself. The day that I was convinced of it, Sire, by my examination of
the approach to the balcony, I had a mind to warn Natacha, to go to her
and say, ‘Get rid of that man. He will betray you. If you need an agent,
I am at your service.’ But that day, at Krestowsky, destiny prevented my
rejoining Natacha; and I must attribute it to destiny, which would not
permit the loss of that man. Michael Nikolaievitch, who was a traitor,
was too much in the ‘combination,’ and if he had been rejected he would
have ruined everything. I caused him to disappear! The great misfortune
then was that Natacha, holding me responsible for the death of a man she
believed innocent, never wished to see me again, and, when she did see
me, refused to have any conversation with me because I proposed that I
take Michael’s place for her with the revolutionaries. She would have
nothing to do with me in order to protect her secret. Meantime, the
Nihilists believed they were betrayed by Natacha when they learned of
the death of Michael, and they undertook to avenge him. They seized
Natacha, and bore her off by force. The unhappy girl learned then, that
same evening, of the attack which destroyed the datcha and, happily,
still spared her father. This time she reached a definite understanding
with the revolutionary party. Her bargain was made. I offer you for
proof of it only her attitude when she was arrested, and, even in that
moment, her sublime silence.”
While Rouletabille urged his view, the Emperor let him talk on and on,
and now his eyes were dim.
“Is it possible that Natacha has not been the accomplice, in all, of
Michael Nikolaievitch?” he demanded. “It was she who opened her father’s
house to him that night. If she was not his accomplice she would have
mistrusted him, she would have watched him.”
“Sire, Michael Nikolaievitch was a very clever man. He knew so well how
to play upon Natacha, and Annouchka, in whom she placed all her hope.
It was from Annouchka that she wished to hold the life of her father. It
was the word, the signature of Annouchka that she demanded before giving
her own. The evening Michael Nikolaievitch died, he was charged to bring
her that signature. I know it, myself, because, pretending drunkenness,
I was able to overhear enough of a conversation between Annouchka and
a man whose name I must conceal. Yes, that last evening, Michael
Nikolaievitch, when he entered the datcha, had the signature in his
pocket, but also he carried the weapon or the poison with which he
already had attempted and was resolved to reach the father of her whom
he believed was assuredly to be his wife.”
“You speak now of a paper, very precious, that I regret not to possess,
monsieur,” said the Tsar coldly, “because that paper alone would have
proved to me the innocence of your protegee.”
“If you have not it, Sire, you know well that it is because I have
wished you to have it. The corpse had been searched by Katharina, the
little Bohemian, and I, Sire, prevented Koupriane from finding that
signature in Katharina’s possession. In saving the secret I have saved
General Trebassof’s life, who would have preferred to die rather than
accept such an arrangement.”
The Tsar stopped Rouletabille in his enthusiastic outburst.
“All that would be very beautiful and perhaps admirable,” said he, more
and more coldly, because he had entirely recovered himself, “if Natacha
had not, herself, with her own hand, poisoned her father and her
step-mother!--always with arsenate of soda.”
“Oh, some of that had been left in the house,” replied Rouletabille.
“They had not given me all of it for the analysis after the first
attempt. But Natacha is innocent of that, Sire. I swear it to you. As
true as that I have certainly escaped being hanged.”
“How, hanged?”
“Oh, it has not amounted to much now, Your Majesty.”
And Rouletabille recounted his sinister adventure, up to the moment
of his death, or, rather, up to the moment when he had believed he was
going to die.
The Emperor listened to the young reporter with complete stupefaction.
He murmured, “Poor lad!” then, suddenly:
“But how have you managed to escape them?”
“Sire they have given me twenty-four hours for you to set Natacha at
liberty, that is to say, that you restore her to her rights, all her
rights, and she be always the recognized heiress of Trebassof. Do you
understand me, Sire?
“I will understand you, perhaps, when you have explained to me how
Natacha has not poisoned her father and step-mother.”
“There are some things so simple, Sire, that one is able to think of
them only with a rope around one’s neck. But let us reason it out. We
have here four persons, two of whom have been poisoned and the other two
with them have not been. Now, it is certain that, of the four persons,
the general has not wished to poison himself, that his wife has not
wished to poison the general, and that, as for me, I have not wished
to poison anybody. That, if we are absolutely sure of it, leaves as the
poisoner only Natacha. That is so certain, so inevitable, that there is
only one case, one alone, where, in such conditions, Natacha would not
be regarded as the poisoner.”
“I confess that, logically, I do not see,” said the Tsar, “anything
beyond that but more and more of a tangle. What is it?”
“Logically, the only case would be that where no one had been poisoned,
that is to say, where no one had taken any poison.”
“But the presence of the poison has been established!” cried the
Emperor.
“Still, the presence of the poison proves only its presence, not the
crime. Both poison and ipecac were found in the stomach expulsions. From
which a crime has been concluded. What state of affairs was necessary
for there to have been no crime? Simply that the poison should have
appeared in the expulsions after the ipecac. Then there would have been
no poisoning, but everyone would believe there had been. And, for that,
someone would have poured the poison into the expulsions.”
The Tsar never quitted Rouletabille’s eyes.
“That is extraordinary,” said he. “But of course it is possible. In any
case, it is still only an hypothesis.
“And so long as it could be an hypothesis that no one thought of, it
could be just that, Sire. But if I am here, it is because I have the
proof that that hypothesis corresponds to the reality. That necessary
proof of Natacha’s innocence, Your Majesty, I have found with the
rope around my neck. Ah, I tell you it was time! What has hindered
us hitherto, I do not say to realize, but even to think, of that
hypothesis? Simply that we thought the illness of the general had
commenced before the absorption of the ipecac, since Matrena Petrovna
had been obliged to go for it to her medicine-closet after his illness
commenced, in order to counteract the poison of which she also appeared
to be the victim.
“But, if I acquire proof that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac at
hand before the sickness, my hypothesis of pretense at poisoning has
irresistible force. Because, if it was not to use it before, why did she
have it with her before? And if it was not that she wished to hide the
fact that she had used it before, why did she wish to make believe that
she went to find it afterwards?
“Then, in order to show Natacha’s innocence, here is what must be
proved: that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac on her, even when she went
to look for it.”
“Young Rouletabille, I hardly breathe,” said the Tsar.
“Breathe, Sire. The proof is here. Matrena Petrovna necessarily had the
ipecac on her, because after the sickness she had not the time for going
to find it. Do you understand, Sire? Between the moment when she fled
from the kiosk and when she returned there, she had not the actual time
to go to her medicine-closet to find the ipecac.”
“How have you been able to compute the time?” asked the Emperor.
“Sire, the Lord God directed, Who made me admire Feodor Feodorovitch’s
watch just when we went to read, and to read on the dial of that watch
two minutes to the hour, and the Lord God directed yet, Who, after the
scene of the poison, at the time Matrena returned carrying the ipecac
publicly, made the hour strike from that watch in the general’s pocket.
“Two minutes. It was impossible for Matrena to have covered that
distance in two minutes. She could only have entered the deserted datcha
and left it again instantly. She had not taken the trouble to mount to
the floor above, where, she told us and repeated when she returned, the