The Secret of Sarek Part 28

"Yes," replied Stephane, "but here we are entering upon the present. So far I have been speaking of the fabled past, the two legends, the prophecy and the G.o.d-Stone. Maguennoc's adventure opens up the period of the present day, which for that matter is hardly less obscure than the ancient period. What happened to Maguennoc? We shall probably never know. He had been keeping in the background for a week, gloomy and doing no work, when suddenly he burst into M. d'Hergemont's study roaring, 'I've touched it! I'm done for! I've touched it! . . . I took it in my hand . . . . It burnt me like fire, but I wanted to keep it . . . . Oh, it's been gnawing into my bones for days! It's h.e.l.l, it's h.e.l.l!' And he showed us the palm of his hand. It was all burnt, as though eaten up with cancer. We tried to dress it for him, but he seemed quite mad and kept rambling on, 'I'm the first victim . . . . the fire will go to my heart . . . . And after me the others' turn will come . . . .' That same evening, he cut off his hand with a hatchet. And a week later, after infecting the whole island with terror, he went away."

"Where did he go to?"

"To the village of Le Faouet, on a pilgrimage to the Chapel of St.

Barbe, near the place where you found his dead body."

"Who killed him, do you think?"

"Undoubtedly one of the creatures who used to correspond by means of signs written along the road, one of the creatures who live hidden in the cells and who are pursuing some purpose which I don't understand."

"Those who attacked you and Francois, therefore?"

"Yes; and immediately afterwards, having stolen and put on our clothes, played the parts of Francois and myself."

"With what object?"

"To enter the Priory more easily and then, if their attempt failed, to balk enquiry."

"But haven't you seen them since they have kept you here?"

"I have seen only a woman, or rather caught a glimpse of her. She comes at night. She brings me food and drink, unties my hands, loosens the fastenings round my legs a little and comes back two hours after."

"Has she spoken to you?"

"Once only, on the first night, in a low voice, to tell me that, if I called out or uttered a sound or tried to escape, Francois would pay the penalty."

"But, when they attacked you, couldn't you then make out . . . ?"

"No, I saw no more than Francois did."

"And the attack was quite unexpected?"

"Yes, quite. M. d'Hergemont had that morning received two important letters on the subject of the investigation which he was making into all these facts. One of the letters, written by an old Breton n.o.bleman well-known for his royalist leanings, was accompanied by a curious doc.u.ment which he had found among his great-grandfather's papers, a plan of some underground cells which the Chouans used to occupy in Sarek. It was evidently the same Druid dwellings of which the legends tell us. The plan showed the entrance on the Black Heath and marked two stories, each ending in a torture-chamber. Francois and I went out exploring together; and we were attacked on our way back."

"And you have made no discovery since?"

"No, none at all."

"But Francois spoke of a rescue which he was expecting, some one who had promised his a.s.sistance."

"Oh, a piece of boyish nonsense, an idea of Francois', which, as it happened, was connected with the second letter which M. d'Hergemont received that morning!"

"And what was it about?"

Stephane did not reply at once. Something made him think that they were being spied on through the door. But, on going to the wicket, he saw no one in the pa.s.sage outside.

"Ah," he said, "if we are to be rescued, the sooner it happens the better. _They_ may come at any moment now."

"Is any help really possible?" asked Veronique.

"Well," Stephane answered, "we must not attach too much importance to it, but it's rather curious all the same. You know, Sarek has often been visited by officers or inspectors with a view to exploring the rocks and beaches around the island, which were quite capable of concealing a submarine base. Last time, the special delegate sent from Paris, a wounded officer, Captain Patrice Belval,[2] became friendly with M.

d'Hergemont, who told him the legend of Sarek and the apprehension which we were beginning to feel in spite of everything; it was the day after Maguennoc went away. The story interested Captain Belval so much that he promised to speak of it to one of his friends in Paris, a Spanish or Portuguese n.o.bleman, Don Luis Perenna,[2] an extraordinary person, it would seem, capable of solving the most complicated mysteries and of succeeding in the most reckless enterprises. A few days after Captain Belval's departure, M. d'Hergemont received from Don Luis Perenna the letter of which I spoke to you and of which he read us only the beginning. 'Sir,' it said, 'I look upon the Maguennoc incident as more than a little serious; and I beg you, at the least fresh alarm, to telegraph to Patrice Belval. If I can rely upon certain indications, you are standing on the brink of an abyss. But, even if you were at the bottom of that abyss, you would have nothing to fear, if only I hear from you in time. From that moment, I make myself responsible, whatever happens, even though everything may seem lost and though everything may be lost. As for the riddle of the G.o.d-Stone, it is simply childish and I am astonished that, with the very ample data which you gave Belval, it should for an instant be regarded as impossible of explanation. I will tell you in a few words what has puzzled so many generations of mankind . . . .'"

[Footnote 2: See _The Golden Triangle_, by Maurice Leblanc.]

"Well?" said Veronique, eager to know more.

"As I said, M. d'Hergemont did not tell us the end of the letter. He read it in front of us, saying, with an air of amazement, 'Can that be it? . . . Why, of course, of course it is . . . . How wonderful!' And, when we asked him, he said, 'I'll tell you all about it this evening, when you come back from the Black Heath. Meanwhile you may like to know that this most extraordinary man--it's the only word for him--discloses to me, without more ado or further particulars, the secret of the G.o.d-Stone and the exact spot where it is to be found. And he does it so logically as to leave no room for doubt.'"

"And in the evening?"

"In the evening, Francois and I were carried off and M. d'Hergemont was murdered."

Veronique paused to think:

"I should not be surprised," she said, "if they wanted to steal that important letter from him. For, after all, the theft of the G.o.d-Stone seems to me the only motive that can explain all the machinations of which we are the victims."

"I think so too: but M. d'Hergemont, on Don Luis Perenna's recommendation, tore up the letter before our eyes."

"So, after all, Don Luis Perenna has not been informed?"

"No."

"Yet Francois . . ."

"Francois does not know of his grandfather's death and does not suspect that M. d'Hergemont never heard of our disappearance and therefore never sent a message to Don Luis Perenna. If he had done so, Don Luis, to Francois' mind, must be on his way. Besides, Francois has another reason for expecting something . . . ."

"A serious reason?"

"No. Francois is still very much of a child. He has read a lot of books of adventure, which have worked upon his imagination. Now Captain Belval told him such fantastic stories about his friend Perenna and painted Perenna in such strange colours that Francois firmly believes Perenna to be none other than a.r.s.ene Lupin. Hence his absolute confidence and his certainty that, in case of danger, the miraculous intervention will take place at the very minute when it becomes necessary."

Veronique could not help smiling:

"He is a child, of course; but children sometimes have intuitions which we have to take into account. Besides, it keeps up his courage and his spirits. How could he have endured this ordeal, at his age, if he had not had that hope?"

Her anguish returned. In a very low voice, she said:

"No matter where the rescue comes from, so long as it comes in time and so long as my son is not the victim of those dreadful creatures!"

They were silent for a long time. The enemy, present, though invisible, oppressed them with his formidable weight. He was everywhere; he was master of the island, master of the subterranean dwellings, master of the heaths and woods, master of the sea around them, master of the dolmens and the coffins. He linked together the monstrous ages of the past and the no less monstrous hours of the present. He was continuing history according to the ancient rites and striking blows which had been foretold a thousand times.

"But why? With what object? What does it all mean?" asked Veronique, in a disheartened tone. "What connection can there be between the people of to-day and those of long ago? What is the explanation of the work resumed by such barbarous methods?"

And, after a further pause, she said, for in her heart of hearts, behind every question and reply and every insoluble problem, the obsession never ceased to torment her:

"Ah, if Francois were here! If we were all three fighting together! What has happened to him? What keeps him in his cell? Some obstacle which he did not foresee?"

It was Stephane's turn to comfort her: