“And still there is one thing that I don’t understand!” I exclaimed. “The death of Pere Bernier. Who killed Bernier?”
“It was the cane!” said Rouletabille, gloomily. “It was that damned cane!”
“I thought that it was ‘the oldest dagger known to humanity.’”
“It was both of them; the cane and the flint. But it was the cane which decided his death; the stone was only his executioner.”
I stared at Rouletabille, asking myself whether, this time, I had not come to the end of his intelligence.
“You never understood, Sainclair—among other things—why upon the morrow of the day on which I had come to comprehend everything, I had let fall Arthur Rance’s ivory-headed cane in front of M. and Mme. Darzac. It was because I hoped that M. Darzac would pick it up. You remember, Sainclair, the ivory-headed cane which Larsan used to carry and the gestures he was in the habit of making with it while we were at the Glandier? He had a fashion of holding his cane which was all his own. I wanted to see whether Darzac would hold an ivory-headed cane as Larsan had used to do. And this fixed idea pursued me until the morrow, even after my visit to the insane asylum. Even after I had seen and felt the true Darzac, I longed to see the imposter make the gestures of Larsan. Ah, to see him suddenly brandish his cane like a bandit—forget the disguise of his figure for one single moment! throw back his falsely stooped shoulders. ‘Knock it, please! Knock at the shield of the Mortolas with heavy blows of the cane, dear, dear M. Darzac!’ And he knocked it—and I saw his form—erect—undisguised! And another man saw it and he is dead! It was poor Bernier, who was so horrified at the sight that he stumbled and fell so unfortunately on the ‘oldest dagger’ that the wound killed him. He is dead because he picked up the flint which, doubtless, had fallen out of Old Bob’s overcoat and which Bernier had intended to take to the workshop of the Professor in the Round Tower! He is dead, because at the same moment that he picked up the flint he saw Larsan brandishing his cane—saw the scoundrel’s figure and his gestures! All battles, Sainclair, have their innocent victims!”
We were both silent for a moment. And I could not keep myself from mentioning the bitterness which I felt at the knowledge that he had had so little confidence in me. I could not pardon him for having deceived me as he had done everyone else in regard to Old Bob.
He smiled.
“That was something that didn’t bother me at all. I was certain enough that he was not in the sack! However on the night before he was fished out of the grotto after I had hidden the true Darzac, under the guidance of Bernier, in the New Château, and had left the gallery of the underground passage after having left there my boat in readiness for my projects of the morrow—my boat which had belonged to Paolo, a fisherman, and a friend of ‘the Hangman of the Sea,’ I regained the bank by my oars. I was undressed and carried my clothing in a package on my head. As I went on, I met Paolo who was amazed to see me taking a bath at such an hour and invited me to go fishing with him. I accepted. And then I learned that the bark which I had used belonged to Tullio. The ‘Hangman of the Sea’ had suddenly become rich and had announced to everyone that he was about to return to his native country. He said that he had sold some precious shells to the old professor for a very great deal of money and, in fact, for many days past, he had been seen a great deal in ‘the old professor’s’ company. Paolo knew that before going to Venice, Tullio intended to stop at San Remo. When I heard all this, I had a clear insight into Old Bob’s behavior and disappearance. He had needed a boat in quitting the château and this boat was that of the ‘Hangman of the Sea.’ I asked him for the address of Tullio in San Remo and sent it to Arthur Rance in an anonymous letter. Rance started for San Remo, believing that Tullio could inform him as to the fate of Old Bob. And, in fact, Old Bob had paid Tullio to take him to the grotto and then to disappear. It was out of pity for the old savant that I had decided to warn Arthur Rance; for I feared that some accident might have befallen his relative. As for myself, all that I could ask was that the old dandy would not put in an appearance before I had finished with Larsan, for I wanted the false Darzac to believe that Old Bob was occupying my mind to the exclusion of everything else. And when I learned that he really had returned, I was, at first, only half pleased, but I confess that the news of the wound in his breast (because of the wound in the breast of the man in the sack) did not cause me any pain at all. Thanks to that injury, I might hope to continue my game a few hours longer.”
“And why should you not have abandoned it immediately?”