IS 
LAND & WATER 
April 12, i(ji7 
The Golden Triangle 
By Maurice Leblanc 
(Translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos) 
CHAPTER XIX {Concluded) 
PATRICE took Don Luis' hand and pressed it firmly. 
Then, in a chaffing tone which hid his emotion, he 
said : 
" Then I won't tliank you. I won't tell j-oii that 
you rid me of a hideous nightmare by letting me know that I 
was not that monster's son and by unveiling his real identity. 
1 will not tell you either that 1 am a happ\' man now that life 
is opening radiantly before me. witli Coralie free to love me. 
No, we won't talk of it. But shall 1 confess to you that 
my happiness is still a little — what shall 1 say ? — a little 
dim, a little timid ? I no longer feel any doubt ; but in 
spite of all, I don't quite understand the truth, and, until 
I do understand it, the truth will cause me some anxiety. So 
tell me . . . explain to me ... I want to 
know . . ." 
" .\nd yet the truth is so obvious ! " cried Don Luis. " The 
most coniplex truths are alwav-s so simple '. Look here, don't 
you understand anything .' Just think of the way in which 
tlie problem is set. For sixteen or eighteen years, Simeon 
Diodokis behaves like a perfect friend, devoted to tlie pitcli 
of self denial, in short, like a father. He has not a thought, 
outside that of liis re\enge, but to secure your happiness 
and Coralie's. He wants to bring you together. He collects 
your photographs. He follows the whole course of your life. 
He almost gets into touch with you. He sends you the key of 
the giu-den and prepares a meeting. Then, suddenly, a 
complete change takes place. He becomes your inveterate 
enemy and thinks of nothing but kilUng the pair of you. 
What is there that separates those two states of mind ? One 
fact, that's all, or rather one date, the night of the third 
of .\pril and the tragedy that takes place that night and the 
following day at Essares' house. L'ntil that date, you were 
Simeon Diodokis' son. After that date, you were Simeon 
Diodokis" greatest enemy. Does that suggest nothing to you ? 
It's really curious. An for me, all my discoveries are due 
to tliis general view of the case which I took from the be- 
ginning." 
Patrice shook his head Avithout replying. He did not 
understand. The riddle retained a part of its unfathomable 
secret. 
" Sit down there," said Don Luis, " on our famous sand- 
heap, and listen to me. It won't take me ten minutes." 
They were on Berthou's Wharf. The light was beginning 
to wane and the outlines on the opposite bank of the river were 
becoming indistinct. The barge rocked lazily at the edge 
of the quay. 
Don Luis expressed himself in the following terms : 
" On the evening when, from the inner gallery of the 
library, you witnessed the tragedy at Essares house, you saw 
before your eyes two men bound by their accomplices : 
Essares Bey and Simeon Diodokis. They are both dead. One 
of them was your father. Let us first speak of the other. 
Essares Bey's position was a critical one that evening. After 
draining your gold currency on behalf of an eastern power, 
he was trying to filch the remainder of the millions of francs 
collected. The Belle Helene, summoned by the rain of sparks, 
was lying moored alongside Berthou's Wharf. The gold was 
to besliifted at night from the .sand-heap to the motor-barge. 
All was going well, when the accomplices, warned by Simeon, 
broke in. Thereupon we have the blackmailing scene. 
Colonel l-akhi's death and so on, with Essares learning at one 
and the same time that his accomplices knew of liis schemes 
and his plan to pilfer the gold and also that Colonel Fakhi 
had informed the police about him. He was cornered. What 
could he do ? Run away ? But, in war-time, running away 
is almost impossible. Besides, nmning away meant giving up 
the gold and likewise giving up Coralie, which would never 
have done. So there was only one thing, to disappear from 
sight. To disappear from sight and yet to remain there, 
on the battlefield, near the gold and near Coralie. Night 
came : and he employed it in carrying out his plan. So much 
for Essares. We now come to Simeon Diodokis." 
Don Luis stopped to take breath. Patrice had been 
listening eagerly, as though each word had brought its share 
of liglit into the oj)pressive darkness. 
" The man who was known as old Simeon," continued Don 
Luis, '■ that is to say your father, Armand Belval, a former 
victim, together witji Coralie's mother, of Essares Bey, had 
also reached a turning point of his career. He was nearly 
achieving his object. He had betrayed and delivered his 
enemy, Essarfes. into the hands of Colonel Fakhi and the 
accomplices. He had succeeded in bringing you and Coralie 
together. He had sent you the key of the lodge. He was 
justified in hoping that, in a few days more, everything 
would end according to his wishes. But, next morning, on 
waking, certain indications unknown to me revealed to liim 
a threatening danger ; and he no doubt foresaw the plan which 
Essares was engaged in elaborating. .'Vnd he too put himself 
the same question ; what was he to do ? What was there for 
him to do ? He must warn you, Warn you without delay, tele- 
phone to you at once. For time was pressing, the danger was 
becoming definite. Essares was watching and hunting down 
the man whom he had chosen as his victim for the second time. 
You can picture Simeon possibly feeling himself pursued and 
locking himself into the library. You can picture him wonder- 
ing whether he would ever be able to telej^hone to you and 
whether you would be there. He asks for you. He calls out 
to vou. Essares hammers away at the door. And your 
father, gasping for breatli, shouts ' Is that you, Patrice ? 
Have you the key? . . . And the letter? .... 
No ? . . . But this is terrible ! Then you don't know ' 
. . . . And tlien a hoarse cry, whicli you hear at your 
end of the wire, and incoherent noises, the sound of an 
altercation. .\nd then the lips gluing themselves to the 
instrument and stammering words at random : ' Patrice, the 
amethyst pendant . . . Patrice, I should so much have 
liked . . . Patrice, Coralie ! ' Then a loud scream 
. . . cries that grow weaker and weaker . . . 
silence, and that is all. Your father is dead, murdered. This 
time, Eissares Bey, who had failed before, in the lodge, took 
his revenge on his old rival." 
" Oh, my unhappy father! " murmured Patrice, in great 
distress. 
" Yes, it was he. That was at nineteen minutes past 
seven in the morning, as you noted. A few minutes later, 
eager to know and to understand, you yourself rang up ; and it 
was Essares who replied, with yoiu: father's dead body at his 
feet." 
" Oh, the scoundrel ! So that this body, which we did not 
find and were not able to find . . ." 
" \\'as simply made up by Essarfes, made up, disfigured, 
transformed into his own likeness. That, captain, is how — 
and the whole mvstery lies in this— Simeon Diodokis dead, 
became Essares Bey, "while Essares Bey, transformed into 
Simeon Diodokis, played the part of Simeon Diodokis." 
" Yes," said Patrice, " I see, I understand." 
" As to the relations existing between the two men," 
continued Don Luis, " I am not certain. Essares may or may 
not have known before that old Simeon was none other than 
his former rival, the lover of Coralie's mother, the man, 
in short who had escaped death. He may or may not have 
known that Simeon was your father. These arc points which 
will never be decided and which, moreover, do not matter. 
What I do take for granted is that this new murder was not 
improvised on the spot. I firmly believe that lissares, 
having noticed certain similarities in height and figure, had 
made every preparation to take Simeon's place if circum- 
stances obliged him to disappear. And it was easily done. ^ 
Simeon Diodokis wore a wig and no beard. Essares, on the 
contrary, was bald-headed and had a beard. He shaved 
himself, smashed Simeon's face against the grate, mingled 
the hairs of his own beard with the bleeding mass, dressed 
the body in his clothes, took his victim's clothes for himself, 
put on the wig, the spectacles and the comforter. The trans- 
formation was complete." 
Patrice thought for a moment. Then he raised an ob- 
jection : 
" Yes, that's what happened at nineteen minutes past 
seven. But sometliing else happened at twenty-three minutes 
paat twelve." 
" No, nothing at all," 
"But that clock, which stopped at twenty-three minutes 
p ist twelve ? " 
" I tell you, nothing happened at all. Only, he had to 
put jieople" off the scent. He had above all "to avoid the 
inevitable accusation that would have been l)rought against 
the new Simeon. 
" Wli?.t accusation ? " 
" What accusation ? Why, that he had killed Essare^ 
(Continued on jxige W.) 
