"A TRIUMPH OF LOVE"

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 39, 15 February 1929, Page 16

"A TRIUMPH OF LOVE"

By PIERRE BILLOTEY

j CHAPTER XXlll.—Continued. j Soon Madeleine found herself saying I ver y gently: "Could you imagine, Jacques, that I had the least sympathy for that Sarosch? I regard him just as you do, •nd I don't know any creature I dislike so much. If I put up with him and even let him feel hopeful, it was only because I didn't eee any other means of relieving us from the restraint f?om which we are suffering. For the last j three weeks Gremont has no will of his I own, Xicolette does just what she likes I with him, and Nicolette and Beras are at the orders of Pauline, who ia running the whole thing for Sarosch. Do you notice how eervile Jules is now to that comic opera Hospodar, whom he calls Monsieur the Count so deferentially ? This very day, on the way back, Gremont told me with all that wonderful finesse of his that he didn't see any reason why the Moldavian grand signeur should not take the place of Jacques Durochat as fiance. Gremont must have found some means, then, of getting over the difficulty'that upset us last month. Before answering him, and asking for explanations, I decided to have a word with you. It only depends on ue now. Jacques, to be free. We are reaching our goal. Let us go and see Gremont to-morrow and tell him that we don't in the least want to marry, and, unless I am very much mistaken, our engagement will promptly be broken off. A quarter of an hour afterwards, naturally, I shall tell Sarosch not to address another word to me. But would this have happened if I had choked Sarosch off at first? And all the time that I have been putting up with the presence and the talk of this individual, who positively makes me sick, while I have been sacrificing myself in the common cause, you think it witty to tea?e me with your Madame Marsaalt'." "Oh, Madeleine, not ia the very leas* " "Yes, Jacques, yes. Don't make a mistake. There is not the least jealousy in my bad temper, but I have sonic sense j >jf justice, and your conduct shock? i sne." j "Your are quite wrong, my dear j Madeleine. I had guessed very well why you put up with Saro«ch, though I didn't suppose that you hated him «•* much as he deserves. You ou.arht to kave told lie before. Put yourself in my place, and you will realise that I should have cut a rather undignified ! figure if, presented to all the world liko lan abandoned fiance, I had not shown Madeleine Mar3ault or somebody the attentions which you were accepting from Saro3ch. You CAn be quite eure that I confine myself in talking to I that insignificant lady to comments mi the Baedeker and tittle-tattle of the most footling, or, if you prefer, the mo-a .j. innocent character. Certainly, Madeleine, J you have been very cute. Thanks to J you, we can keep our word and regain our liberty. I admire you and I congratulate you. You must admit, though, that I have done my best* to help you. My little comedy with Madame Marsault has certainly encouraged Gremont, to say nothing of Barosch." "No doubt," replied Madeleine, "but there was no need to go so far; you exaggerated a little." Thereupon they returned siowiy towards Chamonix. On the way they continued to talk and discuss between them•elves in an affectionate conspiracy, the terms in which they would declare to Gremont on the following morning their decision to break the engagement. Madeleine and Jacques had not the faintest doubt of their success, and they took care to show their extreme satisfaction in advance. Nevertheless, they both felt very gloomy. When they separated in front of the Hotel Splendid, Madeleine, walking across the garden, felt a sudden desire to cry and found her resolution wavering. She pulled (herself together, however, and murmured I bravely:

"I am a-little fooJ. I ought to know what I want. I will go through with it." As to Jacques, he walked away slowly, head hung down, deep in thought, and he muttered to himself: "What a pity that Madeleine left St. S. and didn't remain simply the niece of Old Father Lemont." The next morning. towards nine o'clock, Made'eine was waiting for Jacques in the vestibule of the Hotel Splendid, when Gremont came in extremely pale. He held a blue paper in his trembling hand an open telegram. Walking towards Madeleine he saluted her with an extreme and almost obsequious respect, adding: "I was looking for you. Mademoiselle. I have just received" very grave news. M. Eugene Garain has had a stroke. Of course," he added, "I shall go back to Paris at once, and, i I may be allowed to advise you, mademoiselle. I think you would do well to come with me." Eugene Garain'* funeral was a magnificent affair. There were not lacking either the crowd or any of those solemn ceremonials with "which the celebrated dead are laid to rest. Honour was rendered to the great philanthropist, Grand Officer of the National Order. It he had lived longer, he would have been promoted Grand Cros=. There is nothing like living long for obtaining everything. At the head of the cortege, solemn and inattentive, marched the representatives of the various public bodies and academies who had very good reason for remembering the deceased. Then came a delegation of the Municipal Council of St. %-7~' ,Ed h Y il - Leon Durochat and followed by Leopold Biseau. Twelve or fourteen employees, men and women. of the Four Seasons Stores came behind. for thi? famous establishment, the property of the deceased, was closed for the day, with an assurance to the staff that this was not intended as a holidav. In ehort, among all the crowd who" took part in the funeral of old Eugene, there were only two who felt any real regret. Seated together in the same mourning carriage, Madeleins and Felicie regretted silently and with tears in their eyes the old man who had cherished the one and other with a disinterested tenderness.

At the cemetery there were no less than seven speeches, to which nobody listened. It rained so hard that umbrellas had to be held over the heads of the orators. Except for the few who were initiated, the will of Eugene Garain {■eemed like a posthumous riddle. It contained nothing to explain the choice of Madeleine Biseau, that unknown girl, as the eole legatee with the condition that sh« should transmit through her steward, Jules Gremont. a good number of legacies and eetablish various

foundations. The lawyers turned the will inside out, but declared that, while it was perhaps absurd, it could not be overthrown. After that a special barrow was needed for Madeleine's post in the Rue Spontini. Morning and night great sacks of letters, all demanding money on the most various pretexts, were delivered at her house. It needs an occasion like this to bring home to one how many inventors there are in France alone who would change the face of the world if somebody would lend them a few hundred thousand francs. Greinont. who had not a statistical mind, discharged these letters ;.s fast as they arrived into the cellars which thev threatened soon to fill. As to visitors, they arrived every minute at the door of the apartment, and the commissionaire, without listening to them, declared that nobodv could be seen. After a couple of days "of this, he gave, up even this brief announcement, and dismissed them with a wave of the hand. On tho return from the funeral. Felicio urged Madeleine to instal herself at once in the Rue Spontini. As the voung girl hesitated, the old woman said: " It is impossible for you to return to the Boulevard Raspail. Leave Madame Forest there with her fine friends. You dou't want to commit yourself any further with that crowd."* Madeleine agreed to the considerable disturbance of Luce who knew Felicio quite capable of opening her mind verv freely to Madeleine, but Gremont obliged his sister to keep quiet. °

CHAPTER XXIV. I A little later, in the Rue Spoiuini Madeleine went for the second time into the great drawing room and Miidied the portrait of her father. Behind her the door was opened and Felicie entered holding a large envelope. "Excuse me if Tdistrub yon. mademoiselle, but I have to render some accounts to you at once, and to vou alone. Then, drugging her shoulders piteously, ?li«. added : "One cannot show the 'ea.-t. onfldence now in M. Gremont." She walked o\er to the window and looked out at the rain which continued to fa I. An early twilight w a ~ enveloping the room. v r F - irst . T °i aIL n 'ademoisclle."' sighed Febce. "I have to make an excuse* It was 1 who uas responsible for vour not living here when you tirst cam.; "from St that""' ha ' e S ' Ven good na - ,ons f°i" t 2\ nOW u tVm -" iaid Ma 'lHeinc. "and I think they were very right atid verv natural.'

"My oniy object." a id Feline, -was to ffet Madame Fore-t out of the wav I duln t feel that I could stand her "hciv 1 suppose my affection for M. Oaraiii had a certain amount of jealousy i n it and I couldn't bear t<, see another woman doing things for him. One gets attached to an old man just as to a child. However, through my fault, vou ran into danger. Fortunately, when I •saw how cheerfully Luce agreed to things I realised my mistake. That unhappy woman is s 0 stupid—not to use a worse word! I knew already what ridiculous airs she gave herself out of this house after she had left it for six months, and 1 was prepared for any foolishness on her part. When I questioned you I hardly got any answer, because you didnt want to upset Luce. M. Gremont said everything was all right in the Boulevard Raspail. but then he never went there. It seemed to me that somebody ought to look over things and I took the job in hand myself. As 1 couldn't go personally, I got in touch with Mr. Jacob, who used to be connected with the detective force and is now in charge of a private inquiry office. I expect you have seen his announcement on all the walls with a picture of a huge ear listening at a keyhole. At the end of a week Mr. Jacob was able to tell me that Madame Forest was living like a queen—a queen rather off her head—spending any amount of money and going about with a few people who seemed to be making a very good thing out of her. Mr. Jacob added that he was of the opinion that it w-ould be worth while to get fuller particulars about these people. Just as I was about to warn M. Gremont that it would be worth while for him to inquire into things, I found that he had himself become more than friendly with one of the ladies in question. That is whv I did not «?ay anything to you about "the matter." "A few days later you went to Chamonix and the others went rith vou. In order not to interrupt his inquiries. Mr. Jacob sent there one of his most skilful lady helpers. While his associates here carried on their inquiries, this lady—a rather pretty blonde, who dressed herself very stylishly—put up at the Hotel Splendid and got in touch with your party." "Madame Marsault!" ejaculated Madeleine. "It must have been she." "I believe," said Felici, "that she did take some such name as that. Anyhow it was in the report." Madeleine, amazed, pictured once more in her imagination Madame Marsault leaning on the arm of Jacques, and exclaimed: ''And I thought her stupid and - insignificant! I should never have supposed that she was playing a game of that kind. Really, Felicie, I can assure you that she was excellent." Felicie smiled gently and went on: "If women had the mind for it, they would nearly all make excellent detectives. Certainly this one was very skilful. She didn't lose sight of these people. She overheard several of their conversations, and from day to day she mane hor reports to the office. The inquiry got on splendidly." Felicie. rising, handed Madeleine a large envelope." "Here is th result." she said. "It is the report which Mr. Jacob himself gave me last evening. Read it, mademoiselle, and you will know how things stand, and you will know what to do." The old woman said no more, but the gesture which accompanied her last remarks indicated very clearly that in Madeleine's place, Felicie would have no doubt about what ought to be done. (To be continued daily.)