THE CASK OF DEATH

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 124, 28 May 1930, Page 17

THE CASK OF DEATH

SYNOPSIS. a A deep-laid plot, in which tlie exiled'noble, of France and the people of Brittany are involved, threatens the life of Napoleon. Disguised as a convict, - - YIDOCQ. the famous detective, has spent a considerable time in Bicetre Prison in order to gain knowledge of the secret activities of the criminal bands infest the land. His investigations lead Mm to the conclusion that a girl named GEORGETTE LEFEBRE, one of Napoleon's discarded favourites, is being used as a tool by the conspirators. Disguised as beggar he shadows the girl, and gams entrance to her humble home ]I *theßuc de Malte. Here, to his amazement, he-finds ingots and lumps of fold, .evidently melted from English gold ~c om, s - quantities quantities of which are in tlm dwelling, in charge of an old man. This points to the existence of a Royalist _ engineered from the other side or the Channel. The following night and his trusty lieutenant LACOTJR, are again at their posts, watching the house, when they see a carriage drive up. Two men. who had been lounging at the corner, slip into rue house, and reappear a moment later, dragging a stout box, and followed py the girl. The coach drives to the city gates, where the sentry challenges, but after examining the papers, allows the vehicle to pass.

Vidocq, who was close behind, bent down as the soldier seized his bridle and, displaying his badge, ordered the man to note the names on the passports lie had just examined, and to bring them to the rue .de Jerusalem in-the morning. There was no time for more, for already his'quarry was almost lost to sight,. Suresnes, St. Cloud, and Chaville w ere quickly left behind, and already Vidocq believed that Versailles was their destination, when the horses swerved to the-left and entered the Meudon forest, taking the ancient Roman road. At the very edge of the distant valley, where the trees thinned out, the carriage bumped to a halt, and \idocq perceived ft ruined house half hidden under spreading oaks before which several figures Mere grouped. He was about to dismount when Lacour seized his arm. "Eide on—swiftly, mon vieux—dogs! They are going to scour the neighbourhood in eaae the girl was followed/ 5

• A rattling of chains, and a medley of yelps and shouts confirmed his words, and they hurriedly wheeled their horses and spurred them into the thickets away from" "the highway. For a time they heard the searchers among the trees, but a thaw had set in and melting 'snow no doubt destroyed their scent, since no. one approached their retreat. — " Stay-here with the horses," Vidocq whispered. "I'll-risk it now, I must see what is happening in that place." The heavy worm-eaten shutters weie closed, and gave the house a deserted appearance, but on one side a gaping fissure allowed a beam of light to pass, and through this Vidocq took stock of the'interior. A dozen burly men,' monks >cowls drawn over their faces, -were seated about a table, while in a corner, bound to a chair, was unhappy Georgette Lefevre. Only a low murmur reached his ears, but the dagger in each man s hand and the heap of yellow gold before them were significant. Creeping back to his friend he felt for the stirrups and mounted in haste. ;

"Watch that place, old friend. I believe every one of the plotters is there, and the girl is in danger. Unless they all leave before I return do not move from your post. I ride to bring our : men." Using whip and spur without respite lie reached headquarters soon after midnight, and. stopping only to throw a saddle on his swiftest beast, he gathered a score of picked fighters and rode-again through the night, braving the wind and driving sleet, eager only to come to grips with the secretive band in the forest. But his-heart contracted when at last the ruined house loomed dimly under the trees. , •. No answering whistle came from tne whispering forest, the door swung wide and slatted drearily in the breeze, and the rooms were silent arid empty. No .sign of the dogs and men he had seen now remained, nor could he discern any tracks in the slush that covered the "round. A hurried search of the damp and crumblirg building was fruitless, not even a scrap of paper that might have served as clue was found. A dreadful fear that his trusted friend had been murdered oppressed him. The unexpected flight of the plotters could only mean that Coco-Laconr had been catis*it

—By H. Ashton-Wolfe.

by a lurking spy, and if that was so he knew well that the Chouans would show him no mercy.

"Back to Paris! " lie yelled to his men. "We'll search the house in the rue de Malte, before they remove their belongings." He was yet to learn how swift and ruthless were the scoundrels he hunted, for when the door of the alchemist's room was forced they found the unfortunate man sprawling beside the furnace, a dagger in his heart. A huge mound of ashes still glowed under the vast hood of the chimney, where obviously letters, books, and clothes had hurriedly been destroyed. Vidocq gazed- helplessly -about the place; he realised that for once he had met his match, and the knowledge unnerved him. Georgette Lefevre's private apartment contained merely some dresses and linen, but a portrait over the bed revealed the fact that the murdered alchemist was her father.

"Every thread has snapped" Vidocq muttered. "But the object of their hatred still lives. Through Bonaparte himself -I shall run these villains to earth. To murder a blind defenceless man —the cowards shall pay for such a deed."

Abandoning all subtlety, Vidocq posted every available member of the Surete in such fashion that the "Consul could not stir from his private apartments without at least one watching officer at his heels, unseen but ever present, and in constant touch with his fellows. Vidocq himself went the rounds at all hours, and through Fouche and his chief, was informed in advance of Napoleon's intentions. Of CocoLacour he had no news, and be longed to avenge him, for as the days passed he became convinced that his friend was dead. He had questioned the sentry at the city's gate, but as he expected, the names the travellers in the coach had given were fictitious.- Thus Christmas Eve, the third Nivose of the ninth Republican year, arrived. Napoleon, contemptuous of public opinion and infatuated with the graceful Yvonne Barsac, whose dances were the talk of Paris, had announced his intention of assisting at the gala performance at the Opera. Lannes and two other favourites were to accompany him, and his carriage, drawn by heautiful Arabs, would pass through the rue St. Honore, the rue 2\icaisc, and the rrie de Malte.

Yidocq had posted men in various disguises at every corner. He had been restless and unhappy since the disappearance of his comrade, and a presentiment of evil to come drove him forth long before this was needful. Dressed as a prosperous merchant, he strolled aimlessly through the crowded streets, subconsciously noting the preparations for that night's festivities in every cafe and restaurant. At the cntranec to the rue Nicaise he halted. It was there he had begun his search for tho mysterious men whose gold the blind alchemist' had melted. Now lie was dead, poor Georgette Lefevre had vanished, and Coco-Lacour, fearless, resourceful and true, had probably been murdered and flung in the river. Abruptly Vidocq felt old and helpless. Christmas Eve —what did it mean to him but another night of the ceaseless struggle against the legions in arms against him.

A lumbering two-wheeled cart, drawn by a shaggy black horse, had turned the corner. The beast slipped on <he wet cobbles and sought in vain for foothold, encouraged and aided by a swarthy muscular fellow whose ragged clothes and shapeless wide-brimmed hat betiaved extreme poverty. From force of habit Vidocq glanced at the load on the cart. The front and back were filled with logs of pine ; a bale of straw and another qf hay hung over the sides, whilst a huge wooden cask was heaped to the brim with manure. Reassured by these commonplace objects, he sauntered back to his post, where one of his men was waiting to report that the Consul's carriage had been examined by Sergeant Dubois and that all was well. The cart and the shaggy hors" had now stopped at the end of the street and a little girl was holding the reins; 110 .doubt the owner had gone for a sup of wine. Already, in the distance, Vidocq caught the rapid clatter of hoofs, as the squad of dragoons preceding Napoleon's carriage swept past tbe bend from the rue St. Honore. An ancient

dilapidated coach turned slowly into the rue Nicaise at the same moment, completely blocking the narrow street as it drew alongside the two-wheeled cart, and ho was about to hasten towards it, intending to order the driver to hasten, when one of the soldiers passed at a gallop with drawn sabre, and wedging his horse between the two obstructions, compelled the coachman with threats and curses to whip up his beast. • The fellow was only just in time, for already the Consul's' carriage of state had almost come to a halt. idocq caught a glimpse of Napoleon's pale resentful face at the window, and was raising his hand mechanically to the salute, when a lurid glow near the farmer's cart caused his nerves to tense with dread. At the same instant a woman's scream sounded behind him, a. Hying, supple shape darted past, a vigorous arm gripped. his own. and the frenzied voice of Lacour yelled:

"Francois —quick, gunpowder!" Tho Consul's ■ coach M as now level with, the sinister glow, it was passing the cart as the horses regained their swift stride once more, but at tho same moment he. caught the sizzle of p"\vder and realised that he could never reach the spot in time. With the strength born of despair he clutched Lacour, risen he thought from the dead, and hurling him to the. ground,.threw himself across his body. ' As'in a fearsome dream, when the limbs refuse to obey the will, he saw the heroic girl who had screamed so wildly, leap and snatch at the splutterirtg""fuse; then the earth seemed to shiver and split. The roar of a hundred bursting cannon rent the air, fragments of wood and iron, blocks of stone and a cloud of earth hurtled and thundered about him; crimson flames burnt his eyes, and the acrid smell of sulphur filled his mouth and nose, while the heartreVling shieks of the dying arose from every side. But Napoleon's carriage had passed and turned into the rue de Malte; the last, despairing clutch of Georgette Lefevre had dragged the burning fuse an inch, perhaps, away from the

(powder; the mine had exploded too late, and the cask of flaming death had missed the man for whom it bad been conceived. Ten minutes,- perhaps, Vidocq and his (friend lay inert, their senses reeling, their lungs gasping for air, then CocoLacour sat up and remarked: "I escaped, mon vieux; they were going to bold mc as hostage. Strange that a heartless rogue generally finds a woman who'll give her life for his. That poor girl must have known of the plot and hoped to arrive in time. Well —she did in a way—although I wonder—was it worth it?" and then, without a sound, he collapsed in a heap. But his strange speech had roused Vidocq. He dragged a flask from'his pockct and forced some brandy between his comrade's lips. Men of the Surete and soldiers were already rushing to close the street, for several houses were sliding and falling, threatening to bury the crowds which had collected, and struggling uristfadilv to his feet he at ' once issued his orders. The wounded and dead were carried away, soldiers dragged the terrified inmates from the crumbling houses, while his own men formed a cliain , about the spot where the outrage had occurred. Of the horse which had drawn the cart with the eask,> the head and shoulders only remained. A wheel, a shaft and some other debris were also found, and theso were , taken to Vidocq's office. He burned to avenge the innocent victims of the vain attempt to kill Bonaparte, and lost no time in beginning his investigation. No other clue remained that could guide him, for the unfortunate girl Georgette had sustained the brunt of the explosion, and no trace of her was found; the swarthy, ragged driver of the cart had probably made good his escape, the alchemist was dead, and Lacour, despite his cunning, had caught no sight of his captors, who had shut him in an empty house by the river. Nor had the spies Vidocq had sent to Brittany obtained any proof of complicity against a single man or woman. .

A whole, night Vidocq paced hjs room, seeking a means rrhwaby he could pick up'a guiding thread, vhile Lacour sat idly drumming his heels against the table. At last, towards dawn, yawning prodigiously, his friend exclaimed more in jest than in earnest: "Whv not resuscitate the death cart, mon vieux, and disguise yourself as the driver? Those who saw it before )t reached the rue Xicaise may betray themselves. Superstition has helped us before." . , „ .... At the bantering challenge \ idocq stopped in his stride, his gaze fixed on Lacour: '•By heaven, what an idea! The very thiii<*! I noted when the horse slipped on the cobbles that its shoes were new, and now I recall, too, that hay and straw on the cart were dry, although a drizzle of sleet had swept the streets until well after seven. Half-past seven was striking as the vehicle passed me. That means it had not come far, horse and man could only proceed at a slow walk. The place where the cask was filled with powder lies not a mile distant from the rue. Nicaise. It stands to' reason also that the criminals would not have risked a possible mishap with such a load iu their care; they knew that the cart might be stopped and searched at am

moment. Get me a black mare as much like tjie poor beast that was killed asvou can, the wheelwright who mends our coaches will ftnd you a cart, a thirtygallon cask, and aIL the other stuff. I'll snatch some sleep and begin my search this afternoon."

For two days he- trudged, with the horse and cart, the streets that lay within the imaginary circle he had drawn around the rue Nicaise, stopping before every corn chandler and blacksmith's premises in the hope of recognition 4 and on the third morning his ingenious ruse brought its reward. While drinking a glass of wine in a small inn, frequented by middle-class traders, a corn merchant, Lambal by name, stopped to examine his' mare with amazed expression, then seizing Vidocq by the arm with a fierce oath, he dragged him aside and exclaimed: "You- are the man to whom I sold my mare and a caiV;. I recognise you, though the devil alone knows how you escaped from that business of the third Nivose. I had heard you were ill, dying in, fact. Are you mad to show yourself like that? I'm no informer, but such cruel and useless killing of harmless citizens sticks in my gullet. Come— either you prove right now that you had no share in the murderous scheme, or I'll call a police agent." Vidocq looked sternly at the man. and slowly drawing his badge from under his smock, held it in the palm of his hand. "Well met, I think, my friend. I am hunting for the scoundrel with whom you dealt. Come, let us sit where no one can overhear us. When and to whom did you sell your horse and vehicle?" "I can tefl you nothing but that he was dressed as you are. He came to me on the twenty-eighth Frimaire, four days before the explosion, and paid two hundred francs for my black mare. He also bought an old wagon, a barrel such as the one you have there, and a bag of peas and one of lentils. Legros the blacksmith shoed his beast before she left, he can tell you more than I can. His forge is not far away." Legros was willing enough to talk. He was curious by nature and had sensed a mystery because his customer was ob{viously not what he seemed. Judging by his accent he was a native of Brittany and well-educated. He had heard that the horse had been stabled for several days in the rue Taradis Poissonniere. Thither Vidocq proceeded. The landlord admitted readily that one of his coach-houses had been rented for twenty-five"francs by two men, and that a cooper had called" with iron hoops, which had been specially made to strengthen a wooden cask. One of these men, a dark-haired fellow, resembling Vidocq, had addressed liis companion as Petit Francois. This the cooper also confirmed. He, too, had heard that on Christmas Eve a doctor had been hastily summoned to a house- in the rue St. Nazaire, where a man who lay at the point of death was believed to be one of the victims of the explqsion. A search of the coach-house brought to light a metal cup that reeked of powder, and several fragments of fuse. It Mas there, without a doubt, the cask of death had been prepared. The corn merchant and the smith 'were I hen taken to headquarters and shown the remains of [the horse ani the <i«bris or the cart, 'wtirfi brfh at coe» wcognised. Meaa-

while, Coco-Lacour liad learnt that the man whom the doctor had attended was still abed. It was needful now to proceed with caution. Instead of arresting this man, who was obviously the fellow who ignited the fuse, Vidocq simply posted two men near the house, while others were sent to comb the city in search of Petit Francois. Two days later he learnt that the man be sought had been seen in a house in the rue St. Martin. There, on the sixth floor, Mdocq discovered a small cask of powder, a sack of peas and lentils, which Lambal identified, and by adroit questions he learnt that the woman's brother, whose true name was Carbon, was known as Petit Francois, and that he was hiding in the convent of the Dames de Saint Michel. The fellow's retreat was well chosen; even for the police to enter a convent would cause a tremendous stir, and the news of such an outrage would quickly spread. Vidocq, therefore, prevailed upon Fouche to arrest several ardent Republicans and avowed opponents of Bonaparte. This Fouche did with such zest, that his political police filled the cells with nearly two hundred innocent men and women. But, despite this foolish move, fortune favoured Vidocq. While he still debated how best to capture Carbon, the man himself came to visit his sister, and was at once removed to the Surete in a closed carriage. Trembling for his life, he confessed to. having known of the plot against the Consul, but denied any active participation. The guilty man, he averred, was a friend of Georges Cadoudal, and known as St. Rejant: he it was had conducted the cask to the rue Xicaise on Christmas Eve and lighted the fuse. The other parties to the plot were the Count de Saint Hilaire and a Brittany farmer. Unfortunately this information caused Fouche to release the Republicans without consulting Vidocq, , and to order wholesale arrests in every village and town, of men and women known to be Royalists, since now it seemed clear that the jemigres and churchmen, with Cadoudal at their head, were every one in the plot. This foolish move gave St. Hilaire and Limoelan time to reach Brest and to cross to England; but Vidocq heard of the order in time and immediately rushed to the rue St. Nazaire and captured St. Rejant. Vidocq recogniscd him at once. Moreover, Lacour declared that ho had also been the leader of the cowled men who had made him a prisoner while he watched the house at Meudon, for in his struggles he had wounded the man iu the hand, and the scar was -still visible. Carbon and St. Rejant were executed a year later, and after a sensational trial which lasted a week Cadoudal also mounted the scaffold; but the others were never caught. For many years a tablet marked the spot where terrible cask exploded, and on it Vidocq caused to be cut: • / "In memory of a fearful crime, and s of a sweet, brave girl, who gave her- 1 e for another. Francois Vidocq. . When the Surete chief resigned,-iow-ever. the Prefect ordered the removal of the stone.

! The next in the remarkable sflrie* of s«h»nn-Wolfo stone* i# Dossier 777, th» opinin® Instalment of which will appear •n •aturrfay.