Maurice Leblanc - The Secret of Sarek

"Mercy! Mercy! I can't bear it. Have pity!"

It was impossible for her martyrdom to last.[Pg 226] Her heart was beating so violently that it shook her from head to foot; and she was on the point of fainting when an incident occurred that gave her fresh life. One of the boys, after a fairly stubborn tussle, had jumped back and was swiftly bandaging his right wrist, from which a few drops of blood were trickling. Veronique seemed to remember seeing in her son's hand the small blue-and-white handkerchief which the boy was using.

She was immediately and irresistibly convinced. The boy-it was the more slender and agile of the two-had more grace than the other, more distinction, greater elegance of movement.

"It's Francois," she murmured. "Yes, yes, it's he… It's you, isn't it, my darling? I recognize you now… The other is common and heavy… It's you, my darling!… Oh, my Francois, my dearest Francois!"

In fact, though both were fighting with equal fierceness, this one displayed less savage fury and blind rage in his efforts. It was as though he were trying not so much to kill his adversary as to wound him and as though his attacks were directed rather to preserving himself from the death that lay in wait for him. Veronique felt alarmed and stammered, as though he could hear her:

"Don't spare him, my darling! He's a monster, too!… Oh, dear, if you're generous, you're lost!… Francois, Francois, mind what you're doing!"

The blade of the dagger had flashed over the head of the one whom she called her son; and she had cried out, under her gag, to warn him. Francois having avoided the blow, she felt persuaded that her[Pg 227] cry had reached his ears; and she continued instinctively to put him on his guard and advise him:

"Take a rest… Get your breath… Whatever you do, keep your eyes on him… He's getting ready to do something… He's going to rush at you… Here he comes! Oh, my darling, another inch and he would have stabbed you in the neck!… Be careful, darling, he's treacherous… there's no trick too mean for him to play…"

But the unhappy mother felt, however reluctant she might yet be to admit it, that the one whom she called her son was beginning to lose strength. Certain signs proclaimed a reduced power of resistance, while the other, on the contrary, was gaining in eagerness and vigour. Francois retreated until he reached the edge of the arena.

"Hi, you, boy!" grinned Vorski. "You're not thinking of running away, are you? Keep your nerve, damn it! Show some pluck! Remember the conditions!"

The boy rushed forward with renewed zest; and it was the other's turn to fall back. Vorski clapped his hands, while Veronique murmured:

"It's for me that he's risking his life. The monster must have told him, 'Your mother's fate depends on you. If you win, she's saved.' And he has sworn to win. He knows that I am watching him. He guesses that I am here. He hears me. Bless you, my darling!"

It was the last phase of the duel. Veronique trembled all over, exhausted by her emotion and by the too violent alternation of hope and anguish. Once again her son lost ground and once again he[Pg 228] leapt forward. But, in the final struggle that followed, he lost his balance and fell on his back, with his right arm caught under his body.

His adversary at once stooped, pressed his knee on the other's chest and raised his arm. The dagger gleamed in the air.

"Help! Help!" Veronique gasped, choking under her gag.

She flattened her breast against the wall, without thinking of the cords which tortured her. Her forehead was bleeding, cut by the sharp corner of the rail, and she felt that she was about to die of the death of her son. Vorski had approached and stood without moving, with a merciless look on his face.

Twenty seconds, thirty seconds passed. With his outstretched left hand, Francois checked his adversary's attempt. But the victorious arm sank lower and lower, the dagger descended, the point was only an inch or two from the neck.

Vorski stooped. Just then, he was behind Raynold, so that neither Raynold nor Francois could see him; and he was watching most attentively, as though intending to intervene at some given moment. But in whose favor would he intervene? Was it his plan to save Francois?

Veronique no longer breathed; her eyes were enormously dilated; she hung between life and death.

The point of the dagger touched the neck and must have pricked the flesh, but only very slightly, for it was still held back by Francois' resistance.

Vorski bent lower. He stood over the fighters and did not take his eyes from the deadly point. Suddenly he took a pen-knife from his pocket, opened[Pg 229] it and waited. A few more seconds elapsed. The dagger continued to descend. Then quickly he gashed Raynold's shoulder with the blade of his knife.

The boy uttered a cry of pain. His grip at once became relaxed; and, at the same time, Francois, set free, his right arm released, half rose, resumed the offensive and, without seeing Vorski or understanding what had happened, in an instinctive impulse of his whole being escaped from death and revolting against his adversary, struck him full in the face. Raynold in his turn fell like a log.

All this had certainly lasted no longer than ten seconds. But the incident was so unexpected and took Veronique so greatly aback that, not realizing, not knowing that she ought to rejoice, believing rather that she was mistaken and that the real Francois was dead, murdered by Vorski, the poor thing sank into a huddled heap and lost consciousness.

A long, long time elapsed. Then, gradually, Veronique became aware of certain sensations. She heard the clock strike four; and she said:

"It's two hours since Francois died. For it was he who died."

She had not a doubt that the duel had ended in this way. Vorski would never have allowed Francois to be the victor and his other son to be killed. And so it was against her own child that she had sent up wishes and for the monster that she had prayed!

"Francois is dead," she repeated. "Vorski has killed him."

[Pg 230]The door opened and she heard Vorski's voice. He entered, with an unsteady gait:

"A thousand pardons, dear lady, but I think Vorski must have fallen asleep. It's your father's fault, Veronique! He had hidden away in his cellar some confounded Saumur which Conrad and Otto discovered and which has fuddled me a bit! But don't cry; we shall make up for lost time… Besides everything must be settled by midnight. So…"

He had come nearer; and he now exclaimed:

"What! Did that rascal of a Vorski leave you tied up? What a brute that Vorski is! And how uncomfortable you must be!… Hang it all, how pale you are! I say, look here, you're not dead, are you? That would be a nasty trick to play us!"

He took Veronique's hand, which she promptly snatched away.

"Capital! We still loathe our little Vorski! Then that's all right and there's plenty of reserve strength. You'll hold out to the end, Veronique."

He listened:

"What is it? Who's calling me? Is it you, Otto? Come up… Well, Otto, what news? I've been asleep, you know. That damned Saumur wine!…"

Otto, one of the two accomplices, entered the room at a run. He was the one whose paunch bulged so oddly.

"What news?" he exclaimed. "Why, this: I've seen some one on the island!"

Vorski began to laugh:

"You're drunk, Otto. That damned Saumur wine…"

[Pg 231]"I'm not drunk. I saw… and so did Conrad…"

"Oho," said Vorski, more seriously, "if Conrad was with you! Well, what did you see?"

"A white figure, which hid when we came along."

"Where?"

"Between the village and the heath, in a little wood of chestnut trees."

"On the other side of the island then?"