classic mystery and detective stories-第75章

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mine。　　Let　us　try　to　think　kindly　of　each　other　and　meet　again　as

friends。



AGALMA　LIEBENSTEIN。〃





When　I　had　read　this　and　returned　it　to　him；　he　said：



〃You　see　that　this　was　written　on　the　day　I　was　taken　ill。　　Whether

she　knew　that　I　was　helpless　I　know　not。　　At　any　rate；　she　never

sent　to　inquire　after　me。　　She　went　off　to　Paris；　Korinski　followed

her；　andas　I　quickly　learned　on　going　once　more　into　society

they　were　married！　　Did　you　ever；　in　the　whole　course　of　your

experience；　hear　of　such　heartless　conduct？〃



Bourgonef　asked　this　with　a　ferocity　which　quite　startled　me。　　I

did　not　answer　him；　for；　in　truth；　I　could　not　see　that　Agalma　had

been　very　much　to　blame；　even　as　he　told　the　story；　and　felt　sure

that　could　I　have　heard　her　version　it　would　have　worn　a　very

different　aspect。　　That　she　was　cold；　and　disappointed　him；　might

be　true　enough；　but　there　was　no　crime；　and　I　perfectly　understood

how　thoroughly　odious　he　must　have　made　himself　to　her　by　his

exactions　and　reproaches。　　I　understood　this；　perhaps；　all　the

better；　because　in　the　course　of　his　narrative　Bourgonef　had

revealed　to　me　aspects　of　his　nature　which　were　somewhat　repulsive。

Especially　was　I　struck　with　his　morbid　vanity；　and　his　readiness

to　impute　low　motives　to　others。　　This　unpleasant　view　of　his

charactera　character　in　many　respects　so　admirable　for　its

generosity　and　refinementwas　deepened　as　he　went　on；　instead　of

awaiting　my　reply　to　his　question。



〃For　a　wrong　so　measureless；　you　will　naturally　ask　what

measureless　revenge　I　sought。〃



The　idea　had　not　occurred　to　me；　indeed　I　could　see　no　wrong；　and

this　notion　of　revenge　was　somewhat　startling　in　such　a　case。



〃I　debated　it　long；〃　he　continued。　　〃I　felt　that　since　I　was

prevented　from　arresting　any　of　the　evil　to　myself；　I　could　at

least　mature　my　plans　for　an　adequate　discharge　of　just

retributions　on　her。　　It　reveals　the　impotence　resulting　from　the

trammels　of　modern　civilization；　that　while　the　possibilities　of

wrong　are　infinite；　the　openings　for　vengeance　are　few　and

contemptible。　　Only　when　a　man　is　thrown　upon　the　necessities　of

this　'wild　justice'　does　he　discover　how　difficult　vengeance　really

is。　　Had　Agalma　been　my　wife；　I　could　have　wreaked　my　wrath　upon

her；　with　assurance　that　some　of　the　torture　she　inflicted　on　me

was　to　fall　on　her。　　Not　having　this　power　what　was　I　to　do？　　Kill

her？　　That　would　have　afforded　one　moment　of　exquisite

satisfactionbut　to　her　it　would　have　been　simply　deathand　I

wanted　to　kill　the　heart。〃



He　seemed　working　with　an　insane　passion；　so　that　I　regarded　him

with　disgust；　mingled　with　some　doubts　as　to　what　horrors　he　was

about　to　relate。



〃My　plan　was　chosen。　　The　only　way　to　reach　her　heart　was　to　strike

through　her　husband。　　For　several　hours　daily　I　practised　with　the

pistol；　untilin　spite　of　only　having　a　left　handI　acquired

fatal　skill。　　But　this　was　not　enough。　　Firing　at　a　mark　is　simple

work。　　Firing　at　a　manespecially　one　holding　a　pistol　pointed　at

youis　altogether　different。　　I　had　too　often　heard　of　'crack

shots'　missing　their　men；　to　rely　confidently　on　my　skill　in　the

shooting　gallery。　　It　was　necessary　that　my　eye　and　hand　should　be

educated　to　familiarity　with　the　real　object。　　Part　of　the　cause

why　duelists　miss　their　man　is　from　the　trepidation　of　fear。　　I　was

without　fear。　　At　no　moment　in　my　life　have　I　been　afraid；　and　the

chance　of　being　shot　by　Korinski　I　counted　as　nothing。　　The　other

cause　is　unfamiliarity　with　the　mark。　　This　I　secured　myself

against　by　getting　a　lay　figure　of　Korinski's　height；　dressing　it

to　resemble　him；　placing　a　pistol　in　its　hand；　and　then　practising

at　this　mark　in　the　woods。　　After　a　short　time　I　could　send　a

bullet　through　the　thorax　without　taking　more　than　a　hasty　glance

at　the　figure。



〃Thus　prepared；　I　started　for　Paris。　　But　you　will　feel　for　me　when

you　learn　that　my　hungry　heart　was　baffled　of　its　vengeance；　and

baffled　for　ever。　　Agalma　had　been　carried　off　by　scarlet　fever。

Korinski　had　left　Paris；　and　I　felt　no　strong　promptings　to　follow

him；　and　wreak　on　him　a　futile　vengeance。　　It　was　on　HER　my　wrath

had　been　concentrated；　and　I　gnashed　my　teeth　at　the　thought　that

she　had　escaped　me。



〃My　story　is　ended。　　The　months　of　gloomy　depression　which

succeeded；　now　that　I　was　no　longer　sustained　by　the　hope　of

vengeance；　I　need　not　speak　of。　　My　existence　was　desolate；　and

even　now　the　desolation　continues　over　the　whole　region　of　the

emotions。　　I　carry　a　dead　heart　within　me。〃





VIII



A　SECOND　VICTIM





Bourgonef's　story　has　been　narrated　with　some　fullness；　though　in

less　detail　than　he　told　it；　in　order　that　the　reader　may

understand　its　real　bearings　on　MY　story。　　Without　it；　the　motives

which　impelled　the　strange　pertinacity　of　my　pursuit　would　have

been　unintelligible。　　I　have　said　that　a　very　disagreeable

impression　remained　on　my　mind　respecting　certain　aspects　of　his

character；　and　I　felt　somewhat　ashamed　of　my　imperfect　sagacity　in

having　up　to　this　period　been　entirely　blind　to　those　aspects。　　The

truth　is；　every　human　being　is　a　mystery；　and　remains　so　to　the

last。　　We　fancy　we　know　a　character；　we　form　a　distinct　conception

of　it；　for　years　that　conception　remains　unmodified；　and　suddenly

the　strain　of　some　emergency；　of　the　incidental　stimulus　of　new

circumstances；　reveals　qualities　not　simply　unexpected；　but　flatly

contradictory　of　our　previous　conception。　　We　judge　of　a　man　by　the

angle　he　subtends　to　our　eyeonly　thus　CAN　we　judge　of　him；　and

this　angle　depends　on　the　relation　his　qualities　and　circumstances

bear　to　our　interests　and　sympathies。　　Bourgonef　had　charmed　me

intellectually；　morally　I　had　never　come　closer　to　him　than　in　the

sympathies　of　public　questions　and　abstract　theories。　　His　story

had　disclosed　hidden　depths。



My　old　suspicions　reappeared；　and　a　conversation　we　had　two　days

afterwards　helped　to　strengthen　them。



We　had　gone　on　a　visit　to　Schwanthaler；　the　sculptor；　at　his　tiny

little　castle　of　Schwaneck；　a　few　miles　from　Munich。　　The　artist

was　out　for　a　walk；　but　we　were　invited　to　come　in　and　await　his

return；　which　would　be　shortly；　and　meanwhile　Bourgonef　undertook

to　show　me　over　the　castle；　interesting　as　a　bit　of　modern　Gothic；

realizing　on　a　diminutive　scale　a　youthful　dream　of　the　sculptor's。

When　our　survey　was　completedand　it　did　not　take　longwe　sat　at

one　of　the　windows　and　enjoyed　a　magnificent　prospect。　　〃It　is

curious；〃　said　Bourgonef；　〃to　be　shut　up　here　in　this　imitation　of

medieval　masonry；　where　every　detail　speaks　of　the　dead　past；　and

to　think　of　the　events　now　going　on　in　Paris　which　must　find

imitators　all　over　Europe；　and　which　open　to　the　mind　such　vistas

of　the　future。　　What　a　grotesque　anachronism　is　this　Gothic　castle；

built　in　the　same　age　as　that　which　sees　a　reforming　pope！〃



〃Yes；　but　is　not　the　reforming　pope　himself　an　anachronism？〃



〃As　a　Catholic；〃　here　he　smiled；　intimating　that　his　orthodoxy　was

not　very　stringent；　〃I　cannot　admit　that；　as　a　Protestant；　you　must

admit　that　if　there　must　be　a　pope；　he　must　in　these　days　be　a

reformer；　orgive　up　his　temporal　power。　　Not　that　I　look　on　Pio

Nono　as　more　than　a　precursor；　he　may　break　ground；　and　point　the

way；　but　he　is　not　the　man　to　lead　Europe　out　of　its　present　slough

of　despond；　and　under　the　headship　of　the　Church　found　a　new　and

lasting　republic。　　We　want　a　Hildebrand；　one　who　will　be　to　the

nineteenth　century　as　Gregory　was　to　the　eleventh。〃



〃Do　you　believe　in　such　a　possibility？　　Do　you　think　the　Roman

pontiff　can　ever　again　sway　the　destinies　of　Europe？〃



〃I　can　hardly　say　I　believe　it；　yet　I　see　the　possibility　of　such

an　opening　if　the　right　man　were　to　arise。　　But　I　fear　he　will　not

arise；　or　if　he　should；　the　Conclave　will　stifle　him。　　Yet　there　is

but　one　alternative：　either　Europe　must　once　more　join　in　a　crusade