Fed up with the everyday grind, tired out from the summer heat, you want to get away from it all? We offer you Escape. Escape, designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. You are trapped in the dark streets of an old French town with two remaining avenues of escape. The workshop of a fearsome knife maker are the arms of a beautiful but deadly woman. Tonight we escape to the south of France and to the manhunt of a master criminal as Vincent Starrer told it in his unusual story, The Fugitive. I had been six months in the prison of Tarentelles at the top of the hill above the little village of Saint-Just. As you know of course Saint-Just is in the very south of France, buried in those dark forests that lead up to the great crags of the Pyrenees. I was enjoying this enforced hospitality after having been convicted as a thief and quite rightly so. Oh it is the fancy of some men to become bankers of other soldiers, it had always suited my own fancy to be a thief, of it no matter. Day after day went by with nothing to do but to look out over the forests, watch the sunsets and the lights in the Château de Montau, and six months began to seem like a lifetime. So in my customary logical fashion I decided to escape. Monsieur du blessi. You were addressing me Monsieur le mieux? Mon Dieu who else? Do you think I expect to find you entertaining visitors behind this iron door? Who knows what the detective may think, I have never found enough mentality in one to be able to analyze it. You still have spirit du blessi, what a pity for it to be wasted in a prison cell. Still I confess I would much rather be outside there with you than inside here or with me. And I can almost wish that you were, perhaps then I would not be so bored. Ah my deepest sympathy le mieux. Have the wine sellers at the Château gone dry? Does the seigneur no longer serve those luscious meals you have told me so much about? I have grown weary of it my friend, I am a hunter of men by nature, not de bon vivant. Because I wish you might contrive some means of escaping. I should enjoy the sport of dragging you down again. In that case Monsieur the key. Oh I dare say it would be rather easy the second time, I know just how your mind turns all your little fans. Oh hell the key Monsieur. Then too, I am a master of disguises, should you pause by a stream the fisherman who handed you a drink would suddenly turn out to be le mieux. You astonish me. You would perhaps register to me, then the clerk would smile at you and you would see. Permit me le mieux. Ah well, what a dream of the impossible du blessi. You have another four and a half years to serve in Tarentelle and I am dining at the Château de Montau in an hour. So le mieux why not imagine I am contriving some way to escape, that should give you an appetite. Du blessi, your wait has deserted you, you speak of absurdities now. Perhaps you are right. Au revoir Monsieur. Ah but he was cunning this le mieux, sleek and pretty like a weasel. But have you ever seen the teeth of a weasel slash the throat of a bird? I have and I have seen le mieux do somewhat similar things. Ah oh well no matter. Half an hour after he had gone when dusk was falling I lifted two iron bars from the window of my cell, slid through and climbed down the wall. Oh but it was not so simple as it sounds you know. I had been working on it for nearly two months, secretly and quietly and now I was free. I slung furtively and fearfully through the underbrush making my way rapidly toward the village of Saint-Just at the foot of the hill. Behind me at any moment a great gun would boom from the walls of Tarentelle informing the world that one of the prisoners had made an escape. Ahead of me faint flares of lightning warned of a storm to come while my heart beat apace with my footsteps. I thought to myself how terrible indeed is this business of freedom, how much simpler it is to be in prison. Well as you may have perceived already I am something of a philosopher. Well no matter. It was then that I suddenly saw a light gleaming ahead of me and I began to hear a strange sound. I could make out the shape of a small open hut a few paces ahead of me. The light was thrown out by the glowing coals in a forge and the sound was made by an old man beating out a piece of metal on an angle. He was small, wrinkled and bald except for two white tufts of hair that grew in front of his ears. As I drew near quietly I could see that he was making a knife and that other knives hung on the walls of the hut and I had no weapon and I began to wonder if by some means I might steal one from him. Come in my son. It may start raining any moment. Well, merci monsieur. I'm a stranger hereabouts. I lost my way in the wood. No need, I understand. You are a maker of knives? Oui monsieur. You would like to have one perhaps. Well old man the fact of the matter is that being a law abiding citizen I really have little need of a knife. However both they are pretty and the forest is very dark. But I am at the moment without funds so... There is no charge my son. Here look at this one. Oh it is a beautiful knife. Try the edge. It is quite sharp. Mon dieu, you are right. This weapon would suit a king himself or a prince of thieves. You are a philosopher my son. Or a thief. But what? There are words engraved on the blade. On one side reason and on the other irony. Reason and irony. You are something of a philosopher yourself old maker of knives. I use different words and different blades but the quality is always the same. It fits well in my hand? Then take it. It is yours. With such a blade a man could fight his way through hell itself. I should like to see the look on the face of monsieur... Wait. You are not by any chance Le Mieux. The great gun in the wall of Tarantel. Some prisoner has escaped. No my son. I am not Le Mieux. Why do you ask? I thought for a moment but no. No of course not. Well I must be off old knife maker. I have a long way to go and it is starting to rain. My deepest gratitude for your generosity. Oh we shall meet again my son. Tell me then after you have tried the blade. Of course. Adieu monsieur. Au revoir. De placer. I was not afraid anymore. The rain smashed and splattered in the trees and the dark shadows became old friends. I ran through the night laughing and sometimes singing. Slashing with my knife at the leaves on the branches. Reason and irony slash. I forgot the prison behind me forgot everything except my goal. A tiny cottage standing at the very outskirts of Saint Just. Marie Simard would be waiting there where I had left her. Soft warm beautiful Marie of whom I had dreamed every night in that cursed cell. We would go into the village together then to the inn of Paul de Spar and with the bag of jewels I had left with him escape up to the Spanish frontier. To freedom. Marie Marie. Who is it? It is I ma petite du blessi. Open the door quickly please. What you? How have you? Inside first. That is better. The shutters all closed good. Come now tell me how glad you are to see me. Why I am glad but surprised. How are you here? They have not released you? Not intentionally my dear. I reviewed my own case and decided du blessi you are really a very fine fellow and by no means belong here. So I released myself. You have escaped then. Not completely or at any rate not yet. What? Oh what a lovely scent you are wearing Marie de Monam. And that dress a new one is it not? Yes Marie de Monam. It was given to me by the old woman who lives in the next cottage down the way. Well I must leave a small diamond for her after we have seen Paul. Paul de Spar you are going to see him? But of course ma jolie we shall need money to live in Spain. I see. Du blessi Monam. You are very wet you must be tired. Rest here in this chair while I run down to the old woman's and bring wine and little cake. No Marie there is not time. It will only take a moment. We can go to Paul's afterwards. Surely you know you are safe here with me? Safe while Lemieux is out there some place. Lemieux? The others the soldiers and the guards they are fools but not Lemieux. He is cunning. I am beginning to fancy that I see him behind every face I meet. But surely you do not think. Oh ma chérie of one thing I answered that you are not Lemieux. Oh come I must touch you it has been such a long time. You are so wet perhaps I should go borrow a dry coat for you. No no no the rain has stopped. I shall be dry by the time we reach. The little ring I gave you the one with the heart you are not wearing it. I put it away I did not wish to wear it until you were with me again. Which I am from this moment on ma petite so. No du blessi this is no time to waste. We must leave now and hurry. We go to Paul Despard's this moment now. But a few paces brought us into the streets of the village of Saint Juste. We moved quickly and I kept the collar of my coat turned high on my face. Soon we were making our way among the handful of patrons who still lingered at the tables of the inn. Talking in the light of candles held in empty bottles. I kept my hand on the knife beneath my coat but no one glanced up as we crossed to the far side of the room. There he is at the little table in front of the office. Oui ma chérie so he is and not changed a bit. A boy? Marie what a surprise I had no idea that you might. Du blessi. Bonne nuit mon ami. Du blessi what in the name. There is no time Paul take him in the office. Oh but of course. I have things which must be done. I should be back very shortly Paul. Oui oui I understand. Come du blessi. Hurry Marie. I shall hurry mon que. Never fear. There it is locked. Well mon ami this is quite a surprise. I take it you are on an unofficial leave of absence. Completely so Paul. I have a pass which is good only so long as Lemieux does not catch up with me. Lemieux? Oh he is a clever one all right. Ah indeed he is. Almost as clever as du blessi. Ah but no matter. You have kept a little bag of jewels safe for me? Quite safe. Très bien. They will serve me well in Spain. I hope to be across the frontier in an hour. So soon but we have so many things to talk about. Oh there is little chance for talk Paul when a man is running for his life. The jewels are here close at hand? Nearby, nearby. Well get them now Paul. Well the fact of the matter is they are at my house on the other side of town. Oh feast time. It will take only a moment and I can send someone. Wait wait. Voices outside the door. Well I hear nothing. Nothing at all. You are only imagining that. Paul you signaled someone before we came in here. Ah no no no no no mon ami. No no you are mistaken. I saw you nod to a man out there at one of the tables. No no no you must believe me. I did not. Stay away from the door. I called you my friend. The crowd will break down that door in a moment. You had better give up. You are a fool Duplessis. In an hour from now you will be back in Tarantel where you belong. I doubt it Despard. They have not yet found the back door but either way you will not know about it. A knife. Oh Duplessis. Oh. No no. Away from that door. No you cannot. Murderous beast. I will stop you. Oh dear. A gold piece is thrown at my head. Now where is the sport in killing a man whose only weapon is a bag of money. I am a philosopher. Bonne nuit Monsieur le Gold Piece. I ran down the dark streets from the back of the inn, turned corners, dodged away from the shadows. Far off like the sound of hunting dogs I could hear the voice of the mob. I knew not where to find Marie nor of any man now who might be trusted. I ran blindly. One direction was as good as another and the things of reality became clouded with those of imagination so I could no longer tell them apart. Such is the great fear of the hunted which knows only to run, to run from one unknown to another unknown but always to run and run and run. I had come to an unfamiliar part of the town into an open square with a building facing me. People moved past slowly but they paid no attention and I knew they were not part of the mob which followed. Then I saw that all of them were going through the door into the great building. The cathedral, voila, what a place to hide for a moment. I joined them and was carried along in the crowd. I found myself near the front with people all around me. I kept my head down and crouched there trying to stop trembling. You are out of breath my friend. You seem frightened. Silence. Do you wish to disturb the service? Never fear. It will continue regardless. Duplessis. One moment monsieur and I shall cut your throat. Come now put away the knife. I am your friend. I have always admired you. Who are you? Merle. I keep a little shop in the village, perfume, spices, flavorings, all things calculated to make life more agreeable. You are le mieux in disguise. Ridiculous monsieur. Le mieux is at the Chateau de Montau. I passed him on his way there. He thinks the mob will do his work for him. Put away the knife. You have nothing to fear from me. That may be but I feel much better while I hold it in my hand. Cautious Duplessis. You are like the great adventurer I always admired. Adventurer, eh? The very prince of thieves, the king of poets and teacher of philosophers. Well, I am quite a fellow, all right? Indeed you are. A man who should be standing up, not hiding his face, swaggering and laughing. Merle, mon ami, you are really a fellow of discernment. Indeed you are. Monsieur, is that the knife you are holding in your hand? Oui, mon père. Knives are not permitted in here. But it is a very good knife. It has words written on the blade. No matter. Knives are not permitted, monsieur. Look. It is Duplessis. They have seen you now, my friend. You must run. But never fear. We shall meet again, I think, very soon. I escaped from them again and found myself finally on the outskirts of the far side of town. I knew not where to go next. I looked up and my eyes fell upon the lighted windows of the Chateau de Montaul. Standing alone above the countryside at the very top of a point of rock, a sudden thought occurred to me. Raised and audacious. What better sanctuary than the very Chateau where Lemieux himself waited for word of my capture. I smiled to myself in the darkness and then began to climb swiftly up the face of the rock. I stood at last on a tiny parapet close against the massive stone walls of the Chateau, high above the countryside. Behind me were lighted windows and the sound of voices. And out there on the parapet there was only the night and the stillness, stars and a ghostly moon riding like a silver galleon in the black pillows of the sky. Its pale light fell on the tumbled forest below me, on the tiny little village of Saint-Just, and touched faintly in the distance the far-off crags of the Pyrenees beyond the Spanish frontier. I do not know how long I stood there, looking down upon the world. Perhaps I was a little mad by then, of that I'm not quite sure. Suddenly I saw someone coming toward me on the parapet. They had not yet seen me. Bonne nuit, mademoiselle. What? Who is he? It is I, Marie Duplessis. What are you doing here? A very good question. As a matter of fact, I think I shall use it myself. What are you doing here? I came here to find the mirror after I lost you, of course. And you found him, I trust? Oh, he was crazy inside, in the banquet hall with the others. I thought that if he should find you, then I would be there to help. How thoughtful of you, mademoiselle. But to help whom? You, of course. How can you doubt me? Oh, very easily. This night, in fact, I believe I could doubt the universe itself. Oh, mon chéri. You only say such things when you are fancying yourself a philosopher. Or a fool, which is much the same thing. But here, look at you. Another new dress. The old woman is very good to you, Marie. I am quite grateful to her. And did she also give you the ring, my dear? The ring? Oui, the ring you are wearing. The ring which I saw so many times on her hand that would grasp the bars of my cell, the hand of Lemieux. Oh, non, de pressie. I swear to you, it is nothing. I found it. Found it? Perhaps in the same place where you lost mine. No, no, put away the knife. It is all a mistake. It was you who brought them up to the inn, and Paul knew you had gone to do it. No, it was someone else. Do not kill me. Let me go. Go where? Back inside, to warn Lemieux that I am here? No, I shall go down the path here, see. Oh, you cannot kill me. You loved me once, do you not remember? Please, let me go. Go then. Go quickly before I change my mind. I am going. I will not harm you. To detest a woman thoroughly, it is necessary first to have love for her. Well, I really am quite a fellow after all, a true philosopher. Indeed you are, mon ami. It is one of the things for which I have always admired you. Oh, it is you, Monsieur Merle, the seller of perfumes. Oh, must you always carry that vicious knife in your hand? It is a good knife. An old man gave it to me, and there are words on the blade. See, on one side, reason. On the other, irony. Well, we shall have little need for either once we are across the frontier in Spain. Tell me, Monsieur, why do you wish to help me? Because I like you. Because you are de blessi, whom I admire as something great, as great as that moon that shines over us, as great as... Wait. What is it? Something glinted on your hand when you held it up there. Let me see it. Oh, it was nothing. It was only a tickle of the moonlight. Let me see your hand. But I tell you that... Show! ...Lutu, the little ring with a heart that I gave to her a long time ago. Oh, it is nothing, my friend. I... I... I found the ring. As she found Lemieux's. They have gone too long without knowing for certain if this is really a good knife. Oh, you... You cannot mean that. Oh, no, no. I am your friend, de blessi. I am going to take you to... Oh! Take me where, Monsieur? Ha! Now we shall see whether you can fly without wings. There. Ah, down and down and down. By heaven, it is like a scene from a play. This parapet is stage, the moon for a spotlight, and a body, peruading through space. True enough, my son. But you should not have killed him. The weapon was made for stronger opponents. Well, old maker of knives, you said we should probably meet again. He is gone, out of sight. And there are only the stars and the night and the moon. What now, de blessi? I do not know. Spain, perhaps? Lemieux would follow. And there would be another Marie, another pole, and another mill. Waiting in Spain to tell him where you were. Have I escaped from prison to find this? Is everything false? Is there no man left in the world who is true? I am only a knife maker. Well, it is a good knife. It worked very well. You have not yet tried it against Lemieux? No. You are right. He is inside there, in the banquet hall. It will not be an easy thing, my son. But I know not how to warn you. You must find it out for yourself. Warning? When has de blessi ever had need of warning? Merci, monsieur, the knife maker, for your excellent intentions. And I shall find out for myself now. The stone corridors of the château were empty. Though as I drew nearer, I could hear the sound of voices in the great banquet hall. I made my way quietly to a low balcony overlooking the room, and soon was peering through the drawn curtains that screamed off the table below. Ah, Lemieux was there, and Paul, and the singer of the château. Marie had come back somehow, and there were others too. Lemieux was talking. De blessi will be captured sooner or later, that I can assure you. I know the fellow. I know how his mind works. This is why do not even bother to chase him. He will trap himself. Most certainly you are right, monsieur Lemieux, and the sooner the better. More wine, ma chérie? Merci, chef Paul. I dear say you will rest a bit easier, monsieur le seigneur, once the fellow is taken. Why do you say that? Look at those paintings of the world, ma petite. Down the balcony behind the curtain is a rum brand worth at least a million francs. Quite a temptation for the very prince of thieves, if he did not have something more important on his mind. I thought for one moment they were going to draw back the curtains to reveal me standing there above them. But then they talked of other things, and the danger passed. I looked down upon them, couched like weasels around the table, tearing at their fool with sharp little teeth. Half-man from the fear of being hunted, I began to fancy that they were all animals, and their wine was the blood of birds. While I stood there watching, Merle came in quietly and sat down with him. Merle, whom I had killed and thrown from the parapet. I realized then what the old maker of knives had tried to tell me. I had not killed Merle, but only thought I had done so, for how can a man kill his own vanity? And Paul would always be here, of course, ready to buy and sell with his bags of gold, and Marie too, luring me with a voice filled with a warm softness of pleasure, and Lemieux, incarnation of fate, the hunter of men, what of Lemieux? As I stared through the curtains, I knew suddenly that I could never kill Lemieux, that he would take me sooner or later. For in my half-crazed mind, every face now looked the same, and everyone was the face of Lemieux. I turned to look at the tall painting, the Rembrandt that hung on the wall behind me. It was the portrait of a cavalier, proud and hotly, frozen in a pose of nobility, with one hand resting on his sword. Should I, an even better man, a prince of thieves and of philosophers, permit myself to be run to earth at last by a pack of dogs? Would it not be far better to give myself up at my own choice, show them at the same time their dittleness, and rob them of their victory? Ha! Voila! I had decided. At the point of my knife, I cut the painting from its frame and threw it to one side. I looked at my blade, so useless now. On one side, reason. On the other, irony. And then drove it into the wood at the top of the frame. It quivered there a moment, and then was still. Carefully, I lighted the two tall candles on either side, then stepped up and stood in the frame with my back against the wall. I smiled a moment to myself, and then reached out my hand and took hold of the cord to draw aside the curtains. Ha ha ha ha! Escape is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald. Tonight, we have brought you The Fugitive by Vincent Sturrett. Adapted for radio by Les Crutchfield, with editorial supervision by John Dunkel. Featured in tonight's cast was Louis Van Rooten, with Ben Wright, Gloria Blondell, Barry Kroeger, Wilms Herbert, and John Boehner. Special music by Ivan Dittmarz. Next week. You were trapped aboard an ill-fated ocean liner, captained by a dying man, while a mysterious passenger haunting you, menacing you, seems intent on sending you to destruction. Next week, we escape with James Gould Cousin's gripping story, S.S. San Pedro. Good night, then, until this same time next week, when once again we offer you Escape. Ladies and gentlemen, this coming Tuesday evening at 10 o'clock Eastern Daylight Time, CBS will bring you an hour-long variety show, Crusade for Children, with General Dwight D. Eisenhower as principal speaker. It's a problem concerning every American, the hungry children of Europe. Remember 10 o'clock Eastern Daylight Time, Tuesday, August 17th. Roy Rowan speaking. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
