The poisoned paradise

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Title:ThePoisonedParadise,ARomanceofMonteCarlo
Author:Service,RobertWilliam(1874-1958)
Dateoffirstpublication:1922
Placeanddateofeditionusedasbaseforthisebook:
NewYork:Dodd,Mead,1922


(firstU.S.edition)
Datefirstposted:14February2010
Datelastupdated:14February2010
ProjectGutenbergCanadaebook#482

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THE
POISONEDPARADISE

AROMANCEOFMONTECARLO

BY

ROBERTW.SERVICE



AUTHOROF“THETRAILOFNINETY-EIGHT,”“RHYMESOF
AROLLINGSTONE,”“THEPRETENDER,”ETC.

NEWYORK
DODD,MEADANDCOMPANY
1922

COPYRIGHT,1922,
BYDODD,MEADANDCOMPANY,INC.

PRINTEDINTHEU.S.A.BY
TheQuinn&BodenCompany

BOOKMANUFACTURERS
RAHWAYNEWJERSEY
CONTENTS

PAGE


PROLOGUE1
BOOKONE—THESTORYOFMARGOT5


BOOKTWO—THESTORYOFHUGH77
BOOKTHREE—THEWHEEL131


BOOKFOUR—THEVORTEX245
BOOKFIVE–THEMANHUNT341
THEPOISONEDPARADISE


PROLOGUE
Theboywassittinginacorneroftheshabbyroom.Themotherwatched
himfromherpillow.

“Whatareyoudoing,dear?”

“Drawing,MotherLovely.”

“Strange!Alwaysdrawing.DidIevertellyouthatyourfatherwasan
artist?”

Theboylookedatherthoughtfully.Hiseyeswerelikeherown,darkand
velvety;buthissunnyhaircontrastedwithherblackbraids.

“No,MotherLovely.HadIafather?”

“Yes,dearest.Hediedjustbeforeyouwereborn.Icameherehoping
thathispeople,sorich,soproud,wouldbegladtoseeyou.But,no,
theycannotunderstand….We’llgohometogether,youandI,tomy
home.”



“Whereisthat,Mother?”

“Monaco,thegreatrockthatrisesfromthesea,wheremyfamilyhas
livedforgenerations.Listen,littleson…ifIshouldnotbeableto
gowithyou,youmustgoalone.Youwillfindthehousewherelivesmy
mother,aplain,quiethousewithbrownshuttersneartheCathedral.In
frontfourpeppertreesshielditfromthesun,andthroughthepines
onecanseetheblueglimmerofthesea….”

“Isitbeautiful,mymother?”

“Alwaysbeautiful.Thepeoplesingfromveryjoy.Inthegardenofthe
Prince,justinfrontofourhouse,thereisabrokenpillarcovered
withivy.Besideitisaspringwhereflowersbloomeveninsummerheat.
Itwasthereweusedtomeet,yourfatherandI….Ah!Ihavenever
regrettedit,never….”

Hergirlishfacewasassweetasaflower,buthereyesheldmemories
tootragicfortears.



Thenthedooropenedandawomanenteredwithamasterfulair.

“I’mpreparin’yerpotion,ma’am.Thedoctorsaidyouwastotakeitat
eighto’clock.Comeon,sonny,it’sbedtime.Mawantstogetagoodlong
night.”

Thechildlookedimploringlyathismother.Sheshookherhead.

“No,dearest,youmustdowhattheladytellsyou.Come,good-night.”

Sheheldhiminherarms,kissinghimagainandagain.“You,too,will
beanartist…butyoumustbebrave,mylittleson;foryouhavea
hard,hardlifebeforeyou.”

Thenshelethimgo,butheturnedatthedoor.“Goodnight,Mother
Lovely.”

“Goodnight,darlingone.ThinkofwhatItoldyou,—ofhome….”

Shewasalonenow.ClosinghereyesshesawalittleUshapedharbour
shieldedfromthesea.Itwasasdelicateasapastel,aplacqueof


sapphiresetinpearl.Inthecrystalairthered-roofedhousescrowded
closetoit,theterracedtownroseontip-toetopeeratit.Allwas

glitterandgleamandradiantbeauty.Yetyonderinsombrecontrastrose
theRock,monstrous,moody,medi�val.

Oncemoresheclimbedthelongsteephill;shecrossedthesunnysquare
infrontofthepalace;shepassedintothecoolgloomofthenarrow
streets.Thenatlastshestoodbeforethelowbrownhousewithitstiny
porchanditsfourpeppertrees….

Home….Home.Wouldsheeverseeitagain?

Moaning,sheturnedherfacetothewall.


BOOKONE
TheStoryofMargot


CHAPTERONE
THEOUTCAST

1.

“Thatyou,Margot?”

“Yes,Mother.”

“ForGod’ssakeclosethedoor.Youdon’tthinkIbreakmyback
gatheringwoodthatyoumaywarmthewideworld.”

Therewasascuffleofsabotsanxiouslyretreating.

“Margot!”

“Yes,Mother.”

“You’renotgoingawayagain,areyou?”



“I…”

“Comehere,littletoad.I’vesomethingtosaytoyou.”

Submissivelyfromtheshadowofthedoorwayslippedagirl.Shehadtwin
braidsofpalegoldhair,andbetweenthemlikeawedge,herfaceshowed
waxenwithcold.

“‘FraidI’lleatyou?”snappedthewoman.“Comehere,neartome.
Broughthomeanymoney?”

“No,Mother.”

“ButItoldyoutoask.”

“Ididnotdare.Madamewillnotpayinadvance.ThelasttimeIasked
hershealmostsentmeaway.”

“NomdeDieu!Couldn’tyougivehersomestory?Yourlittlesister’s
sick.There’snofoodinthehouse.Yourpoormother’s…Ugh!Whata
foolIhaveforadaughter.Soallyou’vebroughtback’sanempty

stomach.Oh,Icouldstrikeyou,Icould.”

Shesuitedthegesturetothethreat,andthegirlarchedherslender
armstostaveofftheblow.Butthewomandroppedherhandsdisgustedly.

“Bah!what’stheuse.IfIcouldonlymakeyoucrythere’dbesome
relishinit.Butno!Ibeatyoutillmyarmsacheandneverawhimper.
That’syourstubbornnature.You’lldonothingtopleaseme.Oh,you’re
astubbornlittledevil,stillasamouse,obstinateasamule.There’s
somethinginyou,daughter,Ican’tgetat.ButIwill.I’llthrashit
outofyou.Youwait.Notto-night.I’mtootiredto-night….”

Fromthetumbleratherelbowshetookagulpofciderandbrandy,then
turnedbroodinglytothefire.Thesicklyflamesbetrayedthe
wretchednessoftheroom,thegauntrafters,thefloorofbeatenearth.
Onadealtablelayaclaspknife,andbesideitaloafofbread.The
girleyedthebreadavidly.Thenherhand,redandclaw-cold,stoleto
theknife,whilehergazerestedfearfullyonhermother.Butthewoman
nolongerheeded.

“Whatalife!”shewasmuttering.“Whatahome!AndtothinkI’dhave


beenrollinginmyauto,andcracklinginsilkandsatin,ifIhadn’t
beenafool.That’smyweakpoint….Ialwayswantedtoberespectable,
tobemarried—allthatsentimentalrot.Well,I’vemademybedandI’ve
gottolieonit.Butit’shell….”

Shestareddismallyatherdraggledskirts,hercoarselystockinged
feet,herwoodenshoessowarpedandworn.Seeingherabsorbed,thegirl
hackedoffapieceofbreadandfelltowolfingit.Thewomanwenton,
herfaceharshandhaggardinthelightofthefire:

“TherewastheAmerican.Madaboutme,hewas.IfI’dplayedmycards
righthe’dhavemarriedme.Whatatimehegaveme,Paris,Venice,Monte
Carlo….Oh,MonteCarlo!Buthehadtogobackhomeatlast.Hiswife!
Toldmetowaitandhe’dgetadivorce.Gavemeallthemoneyhehad.
Nearlyfivehundredpounds.Believeme,Iwasprettyinthemdays.”

Asifforconfirmation,shestrokedherhollowcheeks.Tearsof
self-pitywelledinherwearyeyes.

“Ah!ifI’dknown,Iwouldhavewaited.ButtherewasPierreplaguingme
tomarryhim.Toldmehe’dlovedmesincewe’dworkedtogetherinthat


hotelinBrighton;measbar-maid,himashead-waiter.Mightynicehe
usedtolooktooinhisdresssuit.Hesaidhe’dbeenleftsomemoney
andwantedtogobacktothelittletownwherehewasbornandbuya
pub.Sowewasmarried,onceinEnglandandonceinFrance.God!Iwas
particularinthemdays.”

Shelaughedbitterly,andtookanothergulpofthemixtureinherglass.
Hereyeswentglassy.Herfingersclutchedunseenthings.Shemaundered
on.

“Yes,Iwashappythere.Itwasallsonewtome.Thenwebegantoget
ambitious.Thelandlordofthebighoteldiedsuddenly.Itwasagreat

chanceforPierre,buthehadnotmoneyenoughtotakeit.Therewas
whereIcamein.Igavehimmyfivehundredpounds.Toldhimanaunthad
leftittome.Hebelievedme.Weboughtthehotelandeverythingseemed
togowell.Yes,themwerethehappydays.”

Afitofcoughinginterruptedher.Whenitwasovershetookanother
drink.

“Idon’tknowhowPierregottoknowabouttheAmerican.Hewasawaya


monthandwhenhecamebackhewaschanged.Heexplainednothing,but
hetreatedmelikedirt.Itwasthatmademetaketothedrink.”

Shewassilentawhile.Then…

“Hedidn’tseemtocareaboutthebusinessanymoreandIwasdrinking
toomuchtocare;sowewentfrombadtoworse.Welostthehoteland
wentbacktothebuvette.Thenwelostthattoo,andhehadtotakea
waiter’splace.Bythistimethedrinkwasmasterofme.Itriedtogive
itupbutitwasnouse.WhenC�cilewasbornIthoughtI’dbeableto
stop,butIwasworsethanever.Ifhe’donlytriedtohelpme!Butno,
hehatedme;andIbegantohatehimtoo.Wefoughtdayandnight,like
catanddog.Well,it’salong,longstory,andhere’stheend.”

Shethrewawitheredbranchofgorseonthefire.Itblazedupgoldas
itsownMay-daybloom.Thegirlhadclimbedonabenchbythehighbed
andwasbendingfondlyover.

“Margot!”screamedthewoman.

Thegirlstarted.Inthesuddenflare,herfacewasanashenmaskof


fear.

“Whatareyoudoingthere?”

“I’mjustlookingatC�cile,Mother.”

“Comeawayatonce.Haven’tItoldyouahundredtimesnottogonear
her?Iknowyouwithyoursneakingways.Youwanttostealherawayfrom
me.She’stheonlyoneI’vegotleft,andIwanthertomyself,—all,
all.Ifeveryougonearher,I’llkillyou.See!”

Afitofcoughingchokedherutterance.Againthegirlstoletothe
door.

“Margot!”

“Yes,Mother.”

“Fetchthebottleofbrandyfromthecupboard.”

Thewomanpouredherselfastiffglassanddowneditinagulp.



“Comehere,youlittleimp;Iwanttolookatyou.”

Shedrewtheshrinkinggirltoher.Herlipstwitchedwithspite.

“Hiseyes,hismouth,hischin.Theveryimageofhim.Andhesays
you’renothisdaughter.Ah!thatwastheknifeinme.Doyouhear,
girl?Yourfathersaysyou’renothisdaughter.”

Shelaughedharshly,scornfully.

“You’resomuchhisdaughterthatIhateyou,hateyou!”

Thegirlhadbeguntostruggle,butthewomanwasholdingherwith
spitefulstrength.

“Letmetellyousomething.Hecameto-dayandtoldmehewasgoingaway
forever.HetriedtotakeC�cile,butIfoughtforher,foughtlikea
wildcattoholdher.Youunderstand?”

Thegirlwincedinhersavagegrip.



“Hearthat.You’venofather.Hedisownsyou.Andletmetellyou
somethingmore,—you’venomother….Idisownyou,too.Afterto-night
Ineverwanttoseeyouagain.You’rethedeadimageofhimandIhate
himtoomuch.Nowgo!”

Shehurledthegirlfromherandtookanothergulpoftheneatbrandy.
Theglassdroppedfromherhand.Shesaggedforward.

Exceptforthecrackleoftheburningtwigsallwasquiet.Thegirl

gatheredahurriedarmfulofclothes.Shewasgladtogo,butfor
C�cile!

Shestoleovertothebedwherehersisterlaysleeping.Shesawa
clusterofgoldencurls,awanlittlefacewithlipspartedandlashes
thatseemedtocastashadow.Bendingdown,shekissedthewhitecheek.
Theheavylashesstirred,thebigblueeyesopened,thechild’ssilken
armstolearoundherneck.

“You’vecomehome,Margot?”



“Yes,butI’mgoingawayagain.”

“Don’tgo,Margot.Don’tleaveme.I’mafraidofMother.Staywithme.
StaywithyourlittleC�cile.”

“No,Ican’t.Kissme,dear.”

Thechildheldhersotightlyitwasdifficulttofreeherself.Thenthe
motherturned.Sheshriekedinsuddenfury,andthegirlinherterror
madealeapforthedoor.Butthelatchjammed;and,thewhileshewas
fumblingwithit,thewomanmadearushforher.

Thegirlscreamedwithfright.Thewoman,inherhaste,stumbled,caught
herself,andwithafouloathsnatchedtheknifefromthetable….

ThatwasMargot’slastmemoryofhermother,—aharridanhurlingcurses
atherandthreateningherwithanakedknife….

Sobbingwithterror,shestumbledoverthestonesillofthedoorwayand
gainedthesanctuaryofthenight.



2.

Thenighthadonherrobeofcarnival,andherspangledskirtsmade
gloriousthesky.Thegirlhaltedbythewayside,wherealineof
clippedoaksblottedthemselvesagainstthestars.Shedidnotcry,for
shehadlostthehabitoftears,butdrewlongsobbingbreaths.

Thenightworedrearilyon,thestarsseemedtoglitterincruel
unconcern.Thegirldozedanddreamedalittle….

_Shewasachildoffour,thehappiestandbestdressedinallthe
village.Shehadrobesoflace,andsilkribbands,andshoesofsatin.
Hermothercaredforherlikealittleprincess,andherfathercarried
herproudlyinhisarms.Everyonesaidshewasspoiled.Shehadmore
toysthanalltheotherchildrenputtogether.Butthemostpreciousof
allwasadollasbigasarealbaby,adollthatopenedandshutits
eyes,andhadjointedarmsandlegs.Shehadadozendressesforthis
doll,andspenthoursandhourscaringforit….

Shewasagirloften.Sheworealongwhiterobeandaveiloverher
head.Somesaidshelookedlikeafairy,someanangel.Itwasherfirst


Communion,andofascoreofgirlsshewastheprettiestbyfar.Sheit

waswhoheadedtheshiningprocessionthroughthelonggreystreetof
thevillage.Thewaywasstrewnwithlilyleaves,andchild-voices
blendedsweetlyintheJunesunshine…._

Thatwasherlastmemoryofhappiness.Herfathersuddenlychanged.
Whereshehadknownonlycaresses,harshwordsandbitterlookswerenow
herportion.Thehomeoncesojoyful,wasthesceneofsordidwrangling.
Shewasallowedtogoaboutshabbyanddirty,andbecamenothingbuta
slipshoddrudge.

Herfatherneverstruckher,buthermotherbeathercruelly.Itwasa
reliefwhenshewasapprenticedtothelocaldress-makerandspenther
dayawayfromthemiseryofhome.Butoh,thenightswhensheateher
slovenlysupperandwaitedfortheinevitableout-break!Whenitcame
andthestormragedatitsheight,herfatherwouldretreatwithC�cile
tothecottageofhergrandmotherandleavehertobearthebruntofher
mother’sdrunkenspite.Howoftenhadshebeenthrashed,howoftentorn
fromherbed,andflunghalfcladintothenight!Intheoldbarnthere
wasacornerwhereshehadmanyatimecrouchedandshivereduntildawn.
Ah,whatbittermemories!Wouldanyamountofhappinesseverefface