*chapeau*
Très directement démarqué du Comte de Monte-Cristo (sans le reconnaître), ce livre est un classique récit d'injustice et de vengeance. Tout à fait dépourvu de créativité Le héros de l'histoire est Stanley Edgcumb, un jeune homme plein d'avenir. Employé brillant de la compagnie du télégraphe, il a de bonnes chances de promotion. Il est heureusement marié et père de famille. Mais Jack Coulter, son rival de bureau, le prend en haine. Il commence par le faire accuser, à tort, de la disparition d'un télégramme important : Stanley est licencié. Pire: convoitant la place du directeur général, Coulter assassine ce dernier et fait accuser Stanley. Celui-ci est arrêté et jugé. Mais, au moment où il est reconnu coupable et va être condamné à mort, la foudre s'abat sur le tribunal et tue le procureur (sic). Dans la panique qui s'ensuit, Stanley prend la fuite. Il mène alors une vie de fugitif, pendant laquelle il attrape la petite vérole. Celle-ci lui laisse de nombreuses marques sur le visage, ce qui empêchera qu'on le reconnaisse par la suite. Pendant ce temps, sa femme et ses enfants s'enfoncent dans la misère. Pendant le grand incendie qui détruit Chicago à cette époque, Stanley tente de sauver un homme gravement blessé, qui s'accroche à un coffret métallique. A la suite de diverses péripéties, Stanley croit que l'homme est mort et ouvre le coffret, qui contient 50.000 dollars, une grosse somme à l'époque. Cet argent lui permet de partir à Londres. Là, il vend pour une fortune les brevets d'un télégraphe automatique qu'il a mis au point pendant sa captivité. Il revient alors à Chicago, en millionnaire, sous le nom de Jasper Morton. Il éblouit la ville avec son train de vie somptueux, mais aussi sa générosité: il donne sans compter aux miséreux. Simultanément, il devient un intervenant de premier plan sur les marchés de matières premières et de produits agricoles qui font la spécialité (encore aujourd'hui) de la ville. Son habileté exceptionnelle lui permet d'édifier une fortune colossale sur ces marchés hyper spéculatifs. Il entreprend de récompenser ceux qui l'ont aidé jadis (mais dont aucun ne l'a reconnu). Il fait la fortune de l'avocat qui avait défendu avec dévouement Stanley Edgcumb, et le fait élire gouverneur de l'Etat. Ayant retrouvé l'homme de l'incendie de Chicago, à qui il doit le début de sa prospérité, et qui est devenu mendiant, il lui offre une maison et de l'argent. Ses excentricités lui valent alors le surnom de «Duke of Arcanum» - quelque chose comme «Duc du Mystère». Simultanément, il enquête sur Coulter et ses différents méfaits. Il retrouve - y compris grâce à d'ahurissantes coïncidences - les témoins de l'époque, jusqu'à confondre le criminel qui, entre temps, a sombré dans le jeu et l'alcool. Il retrouve alors son nom, sa femme et ses enfants, et vit d'autant plus heureux qu'il est très riche...
Des maladresses du récit sont également frappantes: la fortune de Stanley est édifiée en trois étapes sans aucun rapport entre elles - la cassette trouvée dans l'incendie, la vente de son brevet, des spéculations systématiquement gagnantes, sans explication, sur les marchés financiers - ce qui est curieusement hésitant. Le livre ne manque cependant pas d'un certain charme. Les descriptions sont bien menées, des rues de Chicago à l'incendie qui ravage la ville. On peut également apprécier l'évocation de la vie sociale de cette métropole des Etats-Unis à la fin du 19ème siècle: vie quotidienne des employés et du petit peuple, description des bas-fonds, frénésie des milieux financiers, etc...
Extrait du chapitre 20 The Duke of Arcanum Early in the spring of 1873 the Board of Trade and financial circles of Chicago evinced considerable interest in a mysterious individual who had recently arrived and plunged into speculations of uncommon magnitude in grain. He had presented large drafts upon different banks, which had been duly honored. It being inferred from this that he was a man of vast wealth and resources, his movements were watched with unusual interest. No one, however, seemed to know who he was or whence he came. His general appearance and the fashion of his garments were decidedly English. There were some who declared that he was an English nobleman, sojourning incognito for a short time; while others, who had passed a few words with him, asserted that the voice, language and manners of the stranger were those of an American. His manner was so reserved, and his bearing so dignified, that none felt that he could be approached upon terms of sufficient intimacy to enable one to learn anything in regard to his history or antecedents. His magnificent equipage, drawn by a pair of cream-colored horses - creatures of remarkable, limb and beauty - was the marvel of all as they dashed through the streets, and their origin was as mysterious as their owner. At a regular hour every morning the carriage drew up before the entrance to the Chamber of Commerce; the stranger alighted and walked up the stairs into the exchange hall, where he was seen to watch the course of the markets for a few moments, study the columns of statistics which were posted on the bulletin boards, open cable dispatches which were usually awaiting him, talk confidentially but briefly with his brokers, and then retire from the chamber as quietly as he had entered. The stranger was known to be in telegraphic correspondence with the Marquis of Follansbee, of London, and, as the Marquis was renowned for his speculative ventures, it was surmised that there was an understanding between them to operate in the grain market upon a large scale. He seemed at once, without any effort, to unconsciously obtain great prestige, while his name and intentions inspired the keenest interest and occasioned the liveliest gossip upon the floor of the exchange. Jasper Morton had, in due course of time, obtained his letters-patent, made the necessary assignment to the Marquis of Follansbee, received the hundred thousand pounds, and, with bills of exchange on New York, sailed from Liverpool for America. He has determined to go on to Chicago and enter that city with a boldness which would disarm suspicion. His sojourn of a year and a half abroad had wrought a wonderful change in him. It would, indeed, have been a difficult matter to have recognized in Jasper Morton, when he returned to the earlier scenes of his career, the Stanley Edgcumb who had escaped the clutches of the law in such a miraculous way. The smooth face of other days was now covered with a thick growth of beard, while the upper portion was covered with scars, which evidenced the ravages of small-pox. His manner had undergone a great change also. The weight of troubles which had oppressed him so long and the reticence which he found it necessary to maintain had sobered his character, so that the amiable, light-hearted disposition of former days had given place to icy reserve and unapproachable hauteur and dignity. His travel abroad and his associations with people of culture and refinement had given him a polish and elegance of manners, while his affluence tended to give him assurance, thus rendering impossible a recognition of his former self in the man of ‘73. Morton fully appreciated the danger in returning to his old haunts, but there was a combination of circumstances which he felt would carry him safely through. Chicago was too busily occupied with her rejuvenescence to remember the poor telegrapher who had been convicted of murder, even if she did not think him dead. The fire also had wrought mighty changes. New faces had appeared and old ones disappeared. Old Chicago was no more; and Morton thought that amidst the busy scenes of the new city, in his metamorphosis from a threadbare prisoner to a man of opulence, that none would attempt to trace a resemblance between them, and that he would be altogether free from suspicion. |
