diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54808-0.txt | 10219 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54808-0.zip | bin | 171215 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54808-h.zip | bin | 473557 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54808-h/54808-h.htm | 10618 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54808-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 100764 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54808-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg | bin | 96015 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54808-h/images/illus-tpg.jpg | bin | 99650 -> 0 bytes |
10 files changed, 17 insertions, 20837 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1fb3399 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54808 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54808) diff --git a/old/54808-0.txt b/old/54808-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 356e712..0000000 --- a/old/54808-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10219 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Presentation, by Henry De Vere Stacpoole - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Presentation - -Author: Henry De Vere Stacpoole - -Release Date: May 29, 2017 [EBook #54808] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRESENTATION *** - - - - -Produced by Roger Frank, Brian Wilcox and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes:- - -The spelling, hyphenation, accentuation and punctuation is as the -original, with the exception of apparent typographical errors which -have been corrected. - -Italic text is denoted _thus_. - - - - - THE PRESENTATION - - H. DE VERE STACPOOLE - - -[Illustration: NEVER HAD MADAME DUBARRY LOOKED MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN NOW - - _See page 96_] - - - - -[Illustration: decorated title page] - - - _The - Presentation - by - H. de Vere Stacpoole_ - - FRONTISPIECE IN COLOUR - BY - EARL STETSON CRAWFORD - - JOHN LANE COMPANY : : NEW YORK - MCMXIV - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1914 - BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY - - COPYRIGHT, 1914 - BY JOHN LANE COMPANY - - - - -CONTENTS - - -BOOK I - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. THE DUC DE CHOISEUL’S BALL 9 - - II. THE HOUSE OF THE DUBARRYS 21 - - III. A COUNCIL OF WAR 37 - - IV. THE METHODS OF MONSIEUR DE SARTINES 54 - - V. FERMINARD 60 - - VI. THE COMTESSE DE BÉARN 75 - - VII. THE ARTIST 82 - - VIII. THE PRESENTATION 84 - - IX. THE REWARD 97 - - X. THE ORDER OF ARREST 100 - - XI. FLIGHT 106 - - XII. A DUEL OF WITS 110 - - -BOOK II - - I. A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT 115 - - II. THE GRATITUDE OF THE DUBARRYS 129 - - III. THE PAIR OF SPECTACLES 137 - - IV. THE ARREST OF ROCHEFORT 143 - - V. CAPTAIN ROUX 154 - - -BOOK III - - I. THE POISONING OF ATALANTA 171 - - II. MONSIEUR BROMMARD 178 - - III. CHOISEUL’S LETTER 191 - - IV. THE DECLARATION OF CAMUS 195 - - V. THE HOUSE OF COUNT CAMUS 201 - - VI. THE LABORATORY 210 - - VII. THE FAWN AND THE SERPENT 218 - - VIII. THE CATACOMBS OF PARIS 222 - - -BOOK IV - - I. NEWS FROM VINCENNES 227 - - II. THE TWO PRISONERS 233 - - III. THE TWO PRISONERS (_continued_) 242 - - IV. THE TWO PRISONERS (_continued_) 249 - - V. M. DE ROCHEFORT REVIEWS HIMSELF 254 - - VI. THE ESCAPE 259 - - VII. ROCHEFORT’S PLAN 265 - - VIII. THE HONOUR OF LAVENNE 275 - - IX. THE GATHERING STORM 287 - - X. THE DUC DE CHOISEUL’S RECEPTION 291 - - XI. ROCHEFORT AND CHOISEUL 301 - - XII. ENVOI 312 - - - - -BOOK I - - - - -THE PRESENTATION - -CHAPTER I - -THE DUC DE CHOISEUL’S BALL - - -It was the night of the Duc de Choiseul’s ball, that is to say, the -night before the expected presentation of the Comtesse Dubarry at -Court, and Versailles was in a ferment, the seething of which reached -to the meanest streets of Paris. - -France had long been accustomed to the rule, not of kings, but of -favourites and ministers, and at the present moment in the year of our -Lord, 1770, she was under the rule of the most kind-hearted of women -since the harmless La Vallière and the most upright minister since -Colbert. - -The mistress was Dubarry and the minister de Choiseul. - -It was a strange government. To-day Dubarry, who hated Choiseul much -more than she hated the devil, would be in the ascendant over Louis the -Voluptuous. To-morrow Choiseul would have the long ear of the King, who -was, in fact, only the table on which these two gamblers played with -loaded dice for the realm of France. - -Behind the two gamblers stood their backers. Behind Choiseul, when he -was winning, nearly the whole Court of Versailles. Behind Dubarry, -when she was losing, only her family, the Vicomte Jean, and a few -inconsiderable people who had learned to love her for her own sake. - -This adherence of the courtiers to Choiseul was caused less by the -prescience of self-interest than by hatred of the Comtesse, and this -hatred, always smouldering and ready to burst into flame, was one of -the strangest features in the Court mind of France. - -Why did they hate her, these people? Or, rather, why did they hate her -with such intensity—they who had raised few enough murmurs against the -rule of the frigid and callous Pompadour? - -They hated her, perhaps, because she was an epitome of the virtues -and the vices of the people whom they had trampled under foot for -centuries. She had that goodness of heart and simplicity of thought -rarer even than rectitude in Court circles, and her very vices had a -robustness reminiscent of the soil. - -Dubarry was, in fact, a charming woman who might have been a good woman -but for Fate, the Maison Labille, and Louis of France. - -The question of her presentation at Court, an act which would place -her on the same social footing as her enemies, had been the main topic -of conversation for a month past. The women had closed their ranks and -united against the common enemy. Not one of them would act as sponsor. -The King, who cared little enough about the business, had, still, -interested himself in the matter. The Comtesse, her sister Chon, and -the Vicomte Jean Dubarry had ransacked the lists of the most venial of -the nobility. Bribes, threats, promises, all had been used in vain; -not a woman would stir or raise a finger to further the ambition of -the “shop girl,” so that the unfortunate Comtesse was on the point of -yielding to despair when a brilliant idea occurred to the Vicomte Jean. - -Away down in the provinces, mouldering in a castle on the banks of the -Meuse, lived a lady named the Comtesse de Béarn. A lady of the old -_régime_, a litigant with a suit pending before the courts in Paris, -poor as Job, proud as Lucifer, and seemingly created by Providence for -the purpose of the presentation. - -This lady had been brought to Paris by a trick, installed in the town -house of Madame Dubarry, and wheedled into consenting to act as sponsor -by pure and rank bribery. One can fancy the consternation of the -Choiseul party when this news leaked out. - -The presentation was assured; nothing, one might fancy, could possibly -happen to prevent it, and yet to-night, standing with the Duchess -to receive their guests, the face of Choiseul showed nothing of his -threatened defeat. - -The Rue de Faubourg St. Honoré was alight with the torches of the -running footmen and filled with a crowd watching the carriages turning -into the courtyard of the Hôtel de Choiseul from the direction of the -Rue St. Honoré, the Rue de la Bonne Morue, the Rue d’Anjou, and the Rue -de la Madeleine. - -It was a great assemblage, for the Court for the moment was in Paris, -the King having changed his residence for three days, returning to -Versailles on the morrow, and the people, with that passion for -display which helped them at times to forget their misery and hunger, -watched the passing liveries of the Duc de Richelieu, M. de Duras, M. -de Sartines, the Duc de Grammont, and the host of other notabilities, -content if by the torchlight they caught a glimpse of some fair face, -the glimmer of a jewel, or the ribbon of an order. - -The Maréchal de Richelieu’s carriage had drawn away from the steps, -having set down its illustrious occupant, when another carriage drew -up, from which stepped two young men. The first to alight was short, -dark, with a face slightly pitted with smallpox, and so repellent, -that at first sight the mind recoiled from him. Yet such was the -extraordinary vigour and personality behind that repulsive face that -men, and more especially women, forgot the ugliness in the hypnotism -of the power. This was the celebrated Comte Camus, a descendant of -Nicholas Camus, who had arrived in France penniless in the reign of -Louis XIII., married his daughter to Emery, superintendent of finance, -and died leaving to his heirs fifteen million francs. - -The gentleman with him, tall, fair complexioned, and with a laughing, -devil-may-care face, marred somewhat by a sword-cut on the right side -reaching from cheek-bone to chin, was the Comte de Rochefort. - -Rochefort was only twenty-five, an extraordinary person, absolutely -fearless, always fighting, one of those characters that, like opals, -seem compounded of cloud and fire. Generous, desperate in his love -and hate, a rake-hell and a roué, open-handed when his fist was not -clenched, and always laughing, he was fittingly summed up in the words -of his cousin, the Abbé du Maurier, “It grieves me to think that such a -man should be damned.” - -Rochefort, followed by Camus, passed up the steps and through the glass -swing-doors to the hall. It was like entering a palace in fairy-land. -Flowers everywhere, clinging to the marble pillars, gloated on by the -soft yet brilliant lights of a thousand lamps, and banking with colour -the balustrades of the great staircase up which was passing a crowd -of guests, or, one might better say, a profusion of diamonds, orders, -blue ribbons, billowing satin, and the snow of lace and pearls. Over -the light laughter and soft voices of women the music of Philidor -drifted, faintly heard, from the band of violins in the ball-room, -and, clear-cut and hard through the murmur and sigh of violins, voices -and volumes of drapery, could be heard the business-like voice of the -major-domo announcing the guests. - -“Monsieur le Maréchal Duc de Richelieu!” - -“Madame la Princesse de Guemenée!” - -“Madame de Courcelles!” etc. - -Camus and Rochefort, having made their bow to Madame de Choiseul and -saluted the minister, lost each other completely. Each had a host of -acquaintances, and Rochefort had not made two steps in the direction of -the ball-room when a hand was laid on his arm and, turning, he found -himself face to face with Monsieur de Sartines, the Lieutenant-General -of Police. - -“Is this an arrest, monsieur?” said Rochefort, laughing. - -“Only of your attention,” replied de Sartines, laughing in his turn. -“My dear Rochefort, how well you are looking. And what has brought you -here to-night?” - -“Just what brought you, my dear Sartines.” - -“And that?” - -“The invitation of Choiseul.” - -“But I thought you were of the other party?” - -“Which other party?” - -“The Dubarry faction.” - -“I—I belong to no faction—only my own, and that includes all the -pretty women and pleasant fellows in Paris. _Mordieu_, Sartines, since -when have you imagined me a man of factions and politics? I keep clear -of all that simply because I wish to live. Look at Richelieu, he has -aged more in the last six months with hungering after Choiseul’s -portfolio than he aged in the whole eighty years of his life. Look at -Choiseul grinning at Richelieu, whom he expects to devour him; he has -no more wrinkles simply because he has no more room for them. Look -at yourself. You are as yellow as a louis d’or, and your liver can’t -grow any bigger on account of the size of your spleen—politics, all -politics.” - -“I!” said Sartines. “I have nothing to do with politicians—my business -is with criminals.” - -“They are the same thing, my dear man,” replied Rochefort. “The -criminals stab each other in the front and the politicians in the back; -that is all the difference. Ah, here we are in the ball-room. More -flowers! Why, Choiseul must have stripped France of roses for this ball -of his.” - -“Yes, but there is a Rose that he has failed to pluck with all these -roses.” - -“Dubarry?” - -“Precisely.” - -Though Rochefort pretended to know nothing of politics, his acute mind -told him at once a secret hidden from others. Sartines belonged to the -Dubarry faction. He read it at once in the remark and the tone in which -it was made. - -Sartines moved through the circles of the Court, mysterious, secretive, -professing no politics, yet with his thumb in every pie, and sometimes -his whole hand. - -He was Fouché with the aristocratic particle attached—a policeman and -a noble rolled into one. With the genius of Mascarille for intrigue, -of Tartuffe for hypocrisy, acting now with the feigned stupidity of -a Sganarelle, and always ready to pounce with the pitilessness of a -tiger, this extraordinary man exercised a power in the Court of Louis -XV., equalled only by the power of the grey cardinal in the time of -Richelieu—with this difference—he was feared less, on account of his -assumed bonhomie, an attribute that made him even more dangerous than -_son éminence gris_. - -He stood now with his hands behind his back, leaning slightly forward, -his lips pursed, and his eyes upon the minuet that had just formed like -a coloured flower crystallized from the surrounding atmosphere by the -strains of Lully. - -“Ah,” said the Minister of Police, catching sight of a familiar figure, -“so the Comte Camus is among the dancers. He came with you to-night?” - -“Yes; we arrived in the same carriage.” - -“Then take care,” said Sartines, “that you do not end your life in the -same carriage.” - -“Pardon!” - -“The carriage that takes men to the Place de la Grève.” - -“Monsieur!” cried Rochefort. - -“It is my joke; yet, all the same, a joke may have a warning in it. -Rochefort, beware of that man.” - -“Of Comte Camus?” - -“Yes.” - -“And why?” - -“_Mordieu_, why! He is a poisoner—that’s all.” - -“A poisoner!” - -“Precisely. He poisoned his uncle with a plate of soup, he poisoned -his wife with a pot of rouge, and he would poison me with all his heart -if he could get into my kitchen. You ask me how I know all this? I know -it. Yet I cannot touch him because my evidence is not as complete as my -knowledge. But the rope is ready for him, and he will fall as surely -as my name is Sartines, for he is an expert in the art, and my eye is -always upon him.” - -Rochefort, who had recovered from his shock, laughed. He did not -entirely believe Sartines; besides, his attention was distracted from -the thought of Camus by a face. - -“Who is that lady seated in the alcove beside Madame de Courcelles?” -asked he. - -De Sartines turned. - -“That?” said he. “Why, it is La Fleur de Martinique. How is it possible -that you do not know her?” - -“I have been away from Paris for two months. She must have bloomed in -my absence, this flower of Martinique. Her name, my dear Sartines? I am -burning to know her name.” - -“Mademoiselle Fontrailles. But beware of her, Rochefort; she is even -more dangerous than Camus.” - -“Why, does she poison people?” - -“No, she only makes eyes at them. It’s the same thing. Now, what can -she be doing here to-night—for she is a friend of the Dubarrys?” - -“What can she be doing here? Why, where are your eyes? She is making -Choiseul’s ball-room more beautiful, of course. _Mon Dieu_, what -a face; it makes every other face look like a platter. Sartines, -introduce me.” - -“That I will not.” - -“Then I will introduce myself.” - -“That is as may be.” - -Rochefort turned on his heel and walked straight towards Mademoiselle -Fontrailles, whilst Sartines looked on in horror. He knew that -Rochefort would stick at nothing, but he did not dream that he would -dare the act on which he was now evidently bent. - -Rochefort walked straight up to Madame de Courcelles, with whom he had -a slight acquaintance, and bowed. - -“How delightful to find you here, and you, too, Mademoiselle -Fontrailles. I was just complaining of the profusion of the flowers—I -thought Choiseul must have gathered together a hundred million roses in -this room—till, turning to your alcove, I found there were only two.” - -He bowed, and Madame de Courcelles laughed as she rose to greet -Sartines, with whom she wished a few minutes’ conversation. - -“Since you two know each other, I will leave you to talk nonsense -together,” said she. “Ah, Sartines, I thought you were eluding me. You -looked twice in my direction, and not one sign of recognition.” - -“I am growing short-sighted, madame,” replied de Sartines, as she -took his arm, “and had it not been for the keen sight of Monsieur de -Rochefort, I might altogether have missed you.” - -They passed away in the crowd that now thronged the room, leaving -Rochefort and Mademoiselle Fontrailles together. - -She was very beautiful. Graceful as the _fleur d’amour_ of her native -land, dark, yet without a trace of the creole, and with eyes that had -been compared to black pansies. Those same eyes when seen by daylight -discovered themselves not as pansies, but as two wells of the deepest -blue. - -The Flower of Martinique looked at Rochefort, and Rochefort looked at -the Flower of Martinique. - -“Monsieur,” said the Flower, “I have met many surprising things in -Paris; but nothing has surprised me more than your impertinence.” - -“Not my impertinence, dear Mademoiselle Fontrailles,” replied -Rochefort, “but my philosophy. Have you not noticed that when two -people get to know each other they generally bore each other? Now -in Paris society two people cannot possibly know each other without -being introduced; and, since we have never been introduced, it follows -logically that we can never bore each other.” - -“I am not so sure of that,” replied the lady, looking at her companion -critically. “Many people to whom I have never been introduced bore me -by the expression of their faces and the tone of their voices. I was -noticing that fact even whilst I was watching you talking to Monsieur -de Sartines a moment ago.” - -“Ah,” said Rochefort, “you noticed that about him! It is true he is a -bit heavy.” - -She laughed. In her Paris experience she had met no one like Rochefort. -Impudence she had met, and daring, laughter, raillery, good looks and -ugliness. Yet she had never met them all combined, as in the case of -Rochefort. For it seemed to her that he was now almost ugly, now almost -good-looking, and she set herself for a moment to try and read this man -whose face had so many expressions, and whose mind had, seemingly, so -many facets. - -She was a keen reader of character, yet Rochefort baffled her. The -salient points were easy enough to discern. Courage, daring and sharp -intelligence were there; but the retreating angles, what did they -contain? She could not tell, but she determined, whatever his character -might be, it would be improved by a check. - -“I have not weighed Monsieur de Sartines,” she said, rising to rejoin -Madame de Courcelles, who was approaching on the arm of the minister, -“but I have weighed Monsieur Rochefort, and I find him——” she -hesitated with a charming smile upon her lips. - -“And you have found him——?” - -“Wanting.” - -Next moment she was passing away with Madame de Courcelles, and -Rochefort found himself face to face with the Minister of Police. - -At the word “wanting,” she had swept him from head to foot with -her eyes, and the charming smile had turned into an expression of -contemptuous indifference worse than a blow in the face. It was the -secret of her loveliness that it could burn one up, or freeze one, or -entrance one at will. Rochefort had been playing with a terrible thing, -and for the first time in his life he felt like a fool. He had often -been a fool, but he had never felt like a fool before. - -“Well,” said de Sartines, with a cynical smile, “and what have we been -talking about to Mademoiselle Fontrailles?” - -“Why,” said the young man, recovering himself, “the last subject we -were discussing was your weight, Sartines.” - -“My weight?” - -“She said that you impressed her as being rather heavy.” - -He turned away and walked off, mixing with the crowd, trying to -stifle his mortification, his fingers clutching his lace ruffles and -his eyes glancing hither and thither for someone to pick a quarrel -with or say a bitter thing to. He found no one of this sort, but he -found Mademoiselle Fontrailles. Twice in the crowd he passed her, and -each time her eyes swept over him without betraying the least spark of -recognition. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE HOUSE OF THE DUBARRYS - - -Camus, meanwhile, having finished dancing, went into the card-room. He -seemed to be in search of someone, and passed from table to table like -an uneasy spirit, till, reaching the farthest table, he found the man -he wanted. - -It was the Comte de Coigny. - -Coigny was standing watching a game of picquet; when he raised his eyes -and saw Camus, he gave a sign of recognition, left the game, and coming -towards him, took his arm. - -“Let us go into the ball-room,” said Coigny; “we can talk there without -being overheard in the crush. Did you get my note asking you to be sure -to come to-night?” - -“Yes, I got your note. Why were you so anxious for me to come?” - -“For a very good reason. There are great things in the air.” - -“Ah! Something about the Dubarry, I wager.” - -“You are right. The case is desperate, and you know the only cure for a -desperate case is a desperate remedy.” - -“Go on.” - -“She is due at Versailles at nine o’clock to-morrow evening. Well, we -are going to steal her carriage, her dress and her hairdresser.” - -“Dubarry’s?” - -“Yes, Dubarry’s.” - -“And you want me——” - -“To help.” - -“And when is this theft to be made?” - -“To-morrow, at six o’clock in the evening. We cannot entrust this -business to servants. I have a friend who will look after the milliner, -I myself will attend to the hairdresser, and you, my dear Camus, must -look after the carriage.” - -“Let us clearly understand each other,” said Camus. “You propose to -suppress a hairdresser, a carriage and a gown. Is this to be done by -brute force, or how?” - -“By bribery.” - -“Have you approached the milliner, the hairdresser, and the coachman on -the subject?” - -“Heavens no! The thing is to be done at the last moment; give them time -to think and they would talk.” - -“And who is to pay the bribes?” - -“Choiseul; who else? It will cost three hundred thousand francs; but -were it to cost a million, the million is there.” - -“And suppose they resist?” - -“That has also been taken into consideration. If they resist, then -force must be used. You must have five companions ready to your call, -should you need them.” - -“I can easily find five men,” said Camus. “I have only to whisper the -name of Dubarry, and they would spring from the pavement.” - -“They must all be gentlemen,” said Coigny, “for in an affair of this -sort, nothing must be trusted to servants.” - -“Just so. Who are the coach people?” - -“Landry, in the Rue de la Harpe. The carriage is finished, and the -varnish is drying on it. But Landry has nothing to do with it. Your -business concerns the coachman, Mathieu. You must get hold of this man, -and, having put him out of the way, assume the Dubarry livery, call for -the coach at Landry’s, and drive it to the devil—or anywhere you like -but the Rue de Valois.” - -“And the footmen?” - -“Your genius must dispose of those. Send them into a cabaret for a -drink, and drive off while they are drinking. That is all detail.” - -“But Landry will recognize that I am not Mathieu.” - -“You can easily meet that. You can say he is ill, or better, drunk. He -has a reputation for getting drunk, and there is nothing like a bad -reputation to help a good plan, sometimes.” - -“_Ma foi_!” said Camus, “if that is the case, you ought to use -Dubarry’s reputation. Well, I agree. But Choiseul ought to make me a -duke at least, for it would be worth a dukedom to see Dubarry’s face -when she finds out the trick, and I will be out of all that.” - -“Rest assured,” said Coigny, “that Choiseul will not forget the men who -have helped him; but your reward will come less from him than another -quarter.” - -“And where is that?” - -“Why, all the women of the Court. And a man with the women on his -side can do anything. Ah, there is Madame de Courcelles with the -charming Fontrailles. Now, what can Mademoiselle Fontrailles be doing -here to-night, for, if I am not greatly mistaken, she is a friend of -Dubarry’s?” - -Camus caught sight of Mademoiselle Fontrailles. - -“_Mon Dieu_!” said he, “what a lovely face! Where has she come from?” - -“What?” said Coigny, “do you not know her? She is from Martinique. -They call her the ‘Flower of Martinique’—but surely you have seen her -before?” - -“I have been away from Paris for some weeks, hunting with Rochefort,” -said Camus, his eyes still on the girl. - -“Ah! that accounts for it,” said Coigny. “She is a new arrival.” - -“Introduce me.” - -“Certainly.” - -In a moment the introduction was made. Camus’s success with women was -due less, perhaps, to his force and personality, than to his knowledge -of them. Like Wilkes, he only wanted ten minutes’ start of the -handsomest man in town to beat him. With Mademoiselle Fontrailles he -was charming, courtly, deferential and graceful. - -He knew nothing of Rochefort’s experience with the girl, but he -needed no warning, and when the Duc de Soissons came up to claim her -as partner, he fancied that he had made a very good impression, as, -indeed, he had. - -He watched her dancing. If he had made a good impression on her, she -had made a deep impression upon him. He watched her with burning eyes, -as one might fancy a tiger watching a gazelle, then, turning away, he -passed through the crowd to the supper-room. - -Here, drinking at a buffet, he met a friend, Monsieur de Duras, a stout -gentleman—one of those persons who know everything about everyone and -their affairs. Camus questioned him about Mademoiselle Fontrailles, -and learned her origin and history. Her father was the chief banker in -Martinique. She had come to Paris for her health. Attended by whom? - -“_Mon Dieu_!” said de Duras, “now you ask me a question. She has come -attended by no one but an old quadroon woman, and she lives, now in -apartments in the Rue St. Dominic, and now at Luciennes. She is a -friend of the Dubarry, to whom old Fontrailles owes many a concession -that has helped to make his fortune. But you may save yourself trouble, -my dear Camus—she is entirely unapproachable, one of those torches -that turn out to be icicles when you take a hold of them.” - -“Indeed!” said Camus. He stayed for a little while in the supper-room, -talking to several people; then he returned to the ball-room. - -Mademoiselle Fontrailles had disappeared. It took him some time to -ascertain this fact, searching hither and thither among the hundreds -of guests. The corridors, the landings, the hall, he tried them in -succession without result. The lady had vanished. - -The mind of Camus was of that type which can turn from one subject -to another, leaving the most burning questions to await their answer -whilst it is engaged in some alien consideration. Having failed to find -the woman who had charmed him, he turned his attention to the Dubarry -business. - -He had to find five friends whom he could trust, men absolutely devoted -to Choiseul, that is to say, sworn enemies of Dubarry. By midnight he -had picked out four gentlemen fit for the purpose, that is to say, four -titled rake-hells and blackguards, who would stick at nothing, and who -held the honour of women and the life of men equally cheap. He made an -appointment with these people to meet him at breakfast on the morrow -at his house in the Rue de la Trône, and was casting about for a fifth -when his eye fell on Rochefort, who, flushed with wine and winnings at -cards, had almost recovered his temper. - -Rochefort was just the man he wanted to complete his party. He thought -that he knew Rochefort thoroughly, and, taking him by the arm, he -turned to the entrance hall. - -“It is after midnight,” said Camus, “and I am off. Will you walk part -of the way with me, for I have something particular to say to you?” - -“You are going home?” - -“Yes.” - -“Well, I don’t mind coming with you. I have won two hundred louis, and -if I stay I will be sure to lose them again. What is this you wish to -say?” - -“Wait till we are in the street,” replied Camus. - -They got their cloaks and hats and left the hôtel, crossing the -courtyard thronged with carriages, and turning to the right down the -Rue du Faubourg St. Honoré in the direction of the Rue St. Honoré. - -“Look here,” said Camus, taking the other’s arm, “we have made a famous -plan about the washerwoman.” - -“Dubarry?” - -“Who else? Her presentation is as good as cancelled.” - -“Oh, I thought it was assured.” - -“It was.” - -“And what has happened to cancel it?” - -“Nothing. But things are going to happen.” - -“Explain yourself, my dear fellow; you are as mysterious as the Sibyl. -Are you going to strangle the Comtesse de Béarn?” - -“No, but we are going to steal Dubarry’s coach.” - -“Steal her coach?” - -“And not only her coach, but her gown and her hairdresser.” - -“Are you serious?” said Rochefort. - -“Perfectly. Is it not a splendid plan? It is all to take place at the -last moment—that is to say, at six o’clock to-morrow, or rather, -to-day, for it is now after midnight. Look you, this is the way of it.” - -Camus, bursting with laughter, made a sketch of what he proposed to do. -“I shall want five men at my back,” said he, “I have four; will you be -the fifth?” - -Rochefort made no reply for a moment. Then he said: - -“You know I am no friend of the Dubarrys, and that I would give a good -deal to see this shop-girl in her proper place. Yet what you propose to -me does not seem a work I would care to put my hand to. I would carry -off the Comtesse with pleasure, but to steal her carriage—well—to -that I can only reply, I am not a thief.” - -Camus withdrew his arm from that of Rochefort. He knew Rochefort as -a man who cared absolutely nothing for consequences—as a gambler, -a drinker, and a fighter who could have given points to most men -and beaten them at those amusements. He had failed to take into -his calculations the fact that Rochefort was a man of honour. This -desperado of a Rochefort had mired his clothes with all sorts of filth, -but his skin was clean. He always fought fair, and he never cheated at -play. Even in love, though his record was bad enough, he played the -game without any of those tricks with which men cheat women of their -honour. - -Camus, absolutely without scruple and with the soul of a footman, -despite the power of his mind and personality, had utterly failed to -read Rochefort aright, simply because, being blind to honour himself, -he could not see it in others. One may say of a man like Camus that -he may be clever as Lucifer, but he can never be a genius in affairs, -simply because of that partial blindness which is one of the adjuncts -of evil. - -“Oh, oh,” said he, “we have suddenly become very strait-laced!” - -“I?” said Rochefort. “Not at all! But your plan seems to me equivalent -to robbing a person of his purse so as to prevent him from taking the -stage to Versailles. It is a trick, but it is not a clever one, and if -you will excuse me for saying so, it is not the trick of a gentleman. -Coigny originated it, you say? I believe you. He has the mind of a -lackey and the manners of one—he only wants the livery.” - -“Ah!” said Camus, with a sneer, “it is easy to see you are for the -Dubarry party. Why do you not wear their colours then, openly, instead -of carrying them in your pocket with your conscience?” - -Rochefort laughed. - -“I do not wear my colours,” said he, “my servants wear them. They are -grey and crimson, not rose. I have nothing to do with the Dubarrys, -nor do I wish to have anything to do with them. The Comtesse can go to -Versailles or go to the devil for all I care—but what is that?” - -They had turned to the left up the broad way bordered by trees which -cut the Rue du Faubourg St. Honoré, and led from the Pont Tournant of -the Tuileries to the Hôtel de Chevilly. Rochefort’s attention had been -attracted by a woman’s screams coming from the narrow Rue de Chevilly -that ran by the hôtel. The moon had risen, and by its light he could -see a group of three people struggling; two men were attacking a woman. - -Always ready for a fight, he whipped his sword from its scabbard, and -calling on Camus to follow, ran at full speed towards the ruffians, -who, dropping their hold on the woman, took to their heels, doubling -down the road that led past the Bénédictines de la Ville l’Évêque. -Rochefort, forgetting Camus, the woman and everything else, pursued -hot-foot to the road corner, where the two men parted, one running down -the Rue de la Madeleine towards the river, the other up the street -leading to the Hôtel de Soyecourt. - -Rochefort pursued the latter, and for a very good reason. The man was -running into a cul-de-sac. The pursued one did not perceive this till -suddenly he found himself faced by the barrier, closed at night, which -extended from the wall of the Bénédictines to the wall of the cloister -of the Madeleine. Then he turned like a rat and Rochefort in the -moonlight had a full view of him. - -He was quite young, perhaps not more than eighteen, with a white, -degenerate, evil face—one of those faces that the Cour des Miracles -invented and constructed, that the Revolution patented and passed on to -the _banlieue_ of Paris, and that the _banlieue_ handed to us under the -title of “Apache.” - -“Ah,” said Rochefort, “I have got you!” - -The words were within an ace of being his last. The ruffian’s hand -shot up and a knife whistled past Rochefort’s neck, almost grazing it. -Instantly, and like a streak of light, the sword of Rochefort passed -through the chest of the knife-thrower, pinning him to the door of the -barrier, where he dandled for a moment, flinging his arms about like a -marionette. Then, unpinned, he fell all of a heap on the cobble-stones. -The sword had gone clean through his heart. He was as dead as Calixtus. - -Rochefort had done the only thing possible to do with him—put him out -of existence; and feeling that the world was well rid of a ruffian, he -looked about for something to wipe his sword upon. A piece of paper was -blowing about in the wind and the moonlight; it was a scrap of an old -ballad then being hawked about Paris. He used it to wipe his sword, -returned the blade to its sheath, and, well content with the clean and -very sharp-cut business he had completed, returned on his tracks. - -Nearing again the Rue de Chevilly, he again heard the cries of a -woman, and next moment, turning the corner at a run, he saw two forms -struggling together, the form of a woman and the form of a man. Camus, -with his arm round the waist of the woman they had rescued, was trying -to kiss her. In a moment Rochefort was up to them. His quick blood -was boiling. To rescue a woman and then to assault her would, in cold -blood, have appeared to him the last act—in hot blood it raised the -devil in him against Camus. He ran up to them, crooked his arm in that -of the count, and, swinging him apart from his prey, struck him an -open-handed blow in the face that sent him rolling in the gutter. Then -he drew his sword. - -Now Camus was reckoned a brave man, and undoubtedly he was, but -courage has many qualities. Caught acting like a ruffian and smitten -open-handed in the face and cast in the gutter, he sat for a moment as -if stunned. Then, rising with his clothes and gloves soiled, he stood -for a moment gazing at Rochefort, but he did not draw his sword. His -spirit for the moment was broken. - -He had been caught acting like a blackguard, and that knowledge, -and the blow, and Rochefort’s anger, and the horrible indignity of -the whole business, paralysed the man in him, quelled his fury, and -disabled his arm. - -“We will see about this later on,” he said, and stooping for his -three-cornered hat, which was lying on the ground, he walked away in -the direction of the Rue de la Madeleine. Twenty yards off he turned, -gazed back at Rochefort, and then went on till the corner of the street -hid him from sight. - -Rochefort sheathed his sword, and turned to the woman, who was leaning, -trembling and gasping, against the wall of the Hôtel de Chevilly. - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_,” said she, “what a night! Ah! monsieur, how can I ever -thank you for saving me!” - -She was young and pretty. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, -showing her dark hair and her face, on which the tears were still wet. -She was evidently a servant returning from some message, or perhaps -some rendezvous. Rochefort laughed as he stooped to pick up her -handkerchief, which had fallen on the ground. - -“There is nothing to thank me for,” said he. “Come, little one, pick up -your courage. And here is the handkerchief which you dropped. Have they -robbed you, those scamps?” - -“No, monsieur,” replied the girl; “the letter which I was carrying is -safe.” - -“Ah, they were after a letter! But how did they know you had a letter -in your possession? Have they been following you?” - -“They followed me, monsieur, from my mistress’s home to the house where -I went to receive the letter, and from that house they followed me, -always at a distance, till I reached the street where they attacked me. -They asked me for the letter——” - -“Ah, they asked you for the letter!” - -“Yes, monsieur, promising to let me go free if I gave it to them.” - -“And you?” - -“I refused, monsieur.” - -“Well, mademoiselle, your courage does you credit; and now take my arm, -and I will see you safe back to your home. _Mordieu_, many a man would -have given up letter and purse as well to escape from ruffians like -those. What is thy name, little one?” - -“Javotte,” replied the girl, taking his arm. - -“Well, Mademoiselle Javotte, your troubles are now at an end, and your -letter will arrive safely at its destination. Which way shall we turn?” - -“I am going to the Rue de Valois, monsieur.” - -“Ah, well then, our quickest way is straight ahead and through the Rue -des Capucines. _En avant_!” - -As they went on their way they talked. Javotte was not a Parisienne by -birth—she hailed from Poictiers—but she had a fresh and lively mind -of her own, and to the Comte de Rochefort it came as a revelation that -this girl of humble extraction could be both interesting and amusing. - -The extraordinary circumstances attending their meeting and the fact -that he was playing the rôle of her protector served to destroy, in -part, those social differences which would otherwise have divided -them. The whole thing was new and strange, and to a mind like -Rochefort’s, these elements were sufficiently captivating. - -In the Rue de Valois, Javotte paused at a postern door and drew a key -from her pocket. - -“This is the house, then,” said Rochefort. “What an ugly door to be the -end of our pleasant journey!” - -Javotte with a little sigh put the key in the lock of the ugly door and -opened it gently. - -“Monsieur,” said she in a low voice, “I can never thank you enough. I -am only a poor girl, and have few words; but you will understand.” - -Something in the tone of her voice made Rochefort draw close to her, -and as he took the step she retreated, so that now they were in the -passage on which the door opened. - -“You will say good-night?” he whispered. - -“Yes,” she replied in a murmur, “Good-night, monsieur.” - -“Ah! not in that way—this.” - -She understood. Their lips met in the semi-darkness and his hand was -upon her waist when the door behind them, as if resenting the business, -closed with a snap. Almost on the sound, a door in front of them -opened, a flood of light filled the passage, and Rochefort, drawing -away from the girl, found himself face to face with a man, stout, well -but carelessly dressed, and holding a lamp in his hand. - -It was the Vicomte Jean Dubarry! - -Rochefort was so astounded by the recognition that for a moment he said -no word. The Vicomte, who did not recognize Rochefort at once, was so -astonished at the sight of a man in the passage with Javotte that he -was equally dumb. The unfortunate Javotte, betrayed by the bad luck -that had dogged her all the evening, covered her face with her hands. - -After the first second of surprise, Rochefort remembered that the -Dubarry town house was situated in the Rue de Valois, and the fact that -he must be standing in the Comtesse’s house, and that he had saved her -maid and her letter, brought a laugh to his lips with his words. - -“_Mordieu_!” cried he. “Here’s a coincidence.” - -“Ah!” cried Dubarry, now recognizing his man. “Why, it is Monsieur le -Comte de Rochefort!” - -“At your service,” said Rochefort, with another laugh. - -Dubarry bowed ironically. He knew Rochefort’s reputation, and he -fancied that the presence of this Don Juan was due to some intrigue -with Javotte. He had Rochefort at a disadvantage, but he did not wish -to press it. Rochefort was not the man to press. As for Javotte, Jean -Dubarry would not have cared had she a dozen intrigues on hand. He -wanted the letter for which she had been sent. - -“Monsieur,” said he, “the hour is rather late. To what do I owe the -honour of this visit?” - -“Why,” said Rochefort, “I believe you owe it to the letter which -Mademoiselle Javotte has in her pocket and of which two men tried to -rob her in the Rue de Chevilly half an hour ago.” - -“Monsieur le Vicomte,” said Javotte, recovering herself, “I was -followed to the address you gave me by two men. Then, when I was -returning with this letter, they attacked me and would have taken it -from me but for this brave gentleman, who beat them off. He escorted me -home. I was saying good-night to him here when the door shut to and -you entered.” She took the letter from her pocket and handed it to him. - -Jean Dubarry’s manner instantly changed as he took the letter. He -knew that Rochefort belonged to no party, and to attach this powerful -firebrand to the Dubarry faction would be a stroke of very good policy. -Also, he wished to know more about the affair. - -“Monsieur Rochefort,” said he, smiling, “you have done us a service. We -are deeply beset by enemies, and if you wanted proof of that, the fact -that our servant has been attacked to-night, on account of this letter, -would supply you with it. In the name of the Comtesse, I thank you. And -now, will you not come in? This cold passage is but the entrance to a -house that is still warm enough, thank God, for the entertainment of -our friends. And though the hour is late, it is of importance that I -should have a word with you on the matter.” - -“Thank you,” said Rochefort, “I shall be glad also to have a moment’s -talk with you.” - -He felt slightly disturbed in mind. If everything was as it appeared to -be, then the man he had killed was not a common robber, but a creature -of Choiseul’s; and, however vile this creature might have been, -Choiseul would visit the man who had killed him with his vengeance, -should he discover the fact. - -Truly, this was a nice imbroglio, and he was even deepening it now by -accepting an invitation to enter the house of Choiseul’s most bitter -enemy. But Rochefort was a man who, when in a difficulty, always -went forward, depending on the strength of his own arm to cut his -way through. If he was bound to be involved in politics, and Court -intrigue, fate had ordained that he would have to fight against -Choiseul, and if that event came about, it would be better to have the -Dubarrys at his back than no one. - -_En avant_! was his motto, and, following the broad back of the -Vicomte, and being followed, in turn, by little Javotte, he left the -passage and entered the house of the Dubarrys. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -A COUNCIL OF WAR - - -The Vicomte led the way along a corridor with painted walls and a -ceiling wherefrom impossibly fat cupids pelted one in gesture with -painted roses. - -He opened a door, and with a courtly bow, ushered Rochefort into a -small room exquisitely furnished, and lit by a swinging crystal lamp of -seven points burning perfumed oil. This house of the Dubarrys had once -belonged to Jean de Ségur, a forbear of General Philippe de Ségur, that -ardent Royalist who, at the sight of Murat’s dragoons galloping through -the gate of the Pont Tournant, forgot his grief at the destruction of -the old _régime_, and became a soldier of Napoleon’s. - -It was furnished regardless of expense. Boucher had supervised the -paintings that adorned the ceilings, the Maison Grandier had produced -the chairs and couches, Versailles had contributed porcelain idols, -bonbonnières, and a hundred other knicknacks. Ispahan and Bussorah -had contributed the carpets, at a price, through the great Oriental -house of Habib, Gobelins the tapestry, Sèvres the china, and the glass -manufactory of the Marquis de Louviers the glass. It was for this -house, perhaps, rather than for Luciennes, that the Comtesse had -refused Fragonard’s exquisite panels, “The Romance of Love and Youth,” -a crime against taste which, strangely enough, found no place in the -_procès-verbal_. - -Dubarry, excusing himself for a moment, closed the door, and Rochefort -glanced round the room wherein he found himself. - -Everything was in white or rose; the floor was of parquet, covered here -and there with white fur rugs; on the rose-coloured silk of one of the -settees lay a fan, as if cast there but a moment ago; and a volume of -the poems of Marot, bound in white vellum and stamped with the Dubarry -arms and their motto, “_Boutez en avant_” lay upon a chair, as if just -put down in haste. - -A white-enamelled door, half-hidden by rose-coloured silk curtains, -faced the door by which he had entered, and from the room beyond, -Rochefort, as he paced the floor and examined the objects of art around -him, could hear a faint murmur of voices. Five minutes passed, and -Rochefort, having glanced at the fan, peeped into the volume of poems, -set the huge Chinese mandarin that adorned one of the alcoves wagging -his head, and wound up and broken a costly musical-box, turned suddenly -upon his heel. - -The door leading into the next room had opened, and a woman stood -before him, young, plump, fair-haired and very pretty, exquisitely -dressed. - -It was the Comtesse Dubarry. - -Behind her, Jean Dubarry’s gross figure showed, and behind Jean the -dark hair of a girl, who was holding a fan to her face as though to -conceal her mirth or her features—or both. - -“Monsieur le Comte de Rochefort, Madame la Comtesse Dubarry,” came -Jean’s voice across the Countess’s shoulder, and then the golden voice -of the woman, as she made a little curtsey: - -“Monsieur le Comte de Rochefort. Why, I know him!” - -Rochefort bowed low. He had met Madame Dubarry at Versailles—that is -to say, he had made his bow to her with the thousands of others who -thronged the great halls, but he had never hung about the ante-chambers -of her special apartment with the other courtiers. He fancied her -recognition held more politeness than truth, but in this he was -mistaken. Madame Dubarry knew everybody and everything about them. She -had a marvellously retentive and clear memory, and an equally quick -mind. An ordinary woman in her position would have been lost in a week. - -“And though I have had no proof of his friendship before, I know him -now to be my friend. Monsieur Rochefort, I thank you.” - -She held out her hand, which he touched with his lips. - -Raising his head from the act, he saw the girl with the fan looking -at him; she had lowered the fan from her face. It was Mademoiselle -Fontrailles! - -“Madame,” said he, replying to the Comtesse, “it was nothing. If I have -served you, it has been through an accident, yet I esteem it a very -fortunate accident that has enabled me to use my sword in your service.” - -Though he ignored Mademoiselle Fontrailles, his heart had leaped in -him at the recognition. It seemed to him that Fate had willed that he -should find his interests entangled in those of the beautiful woman who -had smitten him in more ways than one. But, as yet, he did not know -whether it was to be an entanglement of war or peace, an alliance or a -feud. - -“Camille,” said the Comtesse, “this is Monsieur de Rochefort.” She -smiled as she said the words, and Rochefort, as he bowed, knew -instantly that the Flower of Martinique had told of the incident at -the ball, nor did he care, for the warm glance in her dark eyes and -the smile on her lips said, as plainly as words: “Let us forget and -forgive.” From that moment he was Dubarry’s man. - -“I had the pleasure of seeing Mademoiselle Fontrailles at Monsieur de -Choiseul’s to-night,” said he, “in the company of my friend, Madame -de Courcelles.” Then, turning sharply to the Comtesse: “Madame, there -are so many coincidences at work to-night, that it seems to me Fate -herself must have some hand in the matter. Now, mark! I go to Monsieur -de Choiseul’s, and I meet Mademoiselle Fontrailles, who is your friend; -as if the alchemy of that friendship had touched me, on my walk home -through the streets, I had the honour to be of service to you by -protecting your messenger; I offer her my protection and escort and I -find myself at your house; I meet the Vicomte Dubarry, and he invites -me in to talk over the matter, and here, again, I meet Mademoiselle -Fontrailles.” - -He bowed to the girl, who bowed in return with a charming little laugh, -whilst Jean Dubarry closed the door, and pushed forward chairs for the -ladies to be seated. - -“But that is not all,” continued Rochefort, addressing his remarks -again to the Comtesse; “for if it has been my good luck to have served -you in the matter of the letter, it will perhaps be my good fortune -to assist you on a matter more serious still. You know, or perhaps -you do not know, that I am a man of no party and no politics, yet it -would be idle for me to shut my eyes to the finger that points my way, -and my ears to the voice that whispers to me that my direction is the -direction of the Rue de Valois.” - -He bowed slightly, and his bow included Mademoiselle Fontrailles. The -Comtesse had been looking at him attentively all this while, and her -quick mind divined something of importance behind his words. - -“Monsieur Rochefort,” said she, indicating a chair, whilst she herself -took her seat on a settee by the side of Mademoiselle Fontrailles, “you -have something to tell me. I have the gift of second sight, and I guess -that this something is of importance; in my experience, I find that the -important things are always the unpleasant things of life, so put me -out of my anxiety, I pray you.” - -“I will, madame; you have divined rightly. My news is unpleasant, -simply because it relates to a conspiracy against you.” - -“Ah! ah!” said Jean Dubarry, who had not taken a seat, but was standing -by the mantelpiece, snuff-box in hand. “A conspiracy.” - -“Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte, a conspiracy.” - -“Against my life?” asked the Comtesse, with a laugh. “It would be -a bright idea for some of them to attack that instead of my poor -reputation. Unfortunately, however, these gentlemen are incapable of a -bright idea.” - -“No, madame, they do not propose to take your life; they propose to -steal your coachman, your hairdresser and the robe that you are to wear -to-morrow evening.” - -Jean Dubarry almost dropped his snuff-box; he swore a frightful oath; -and the Countess, fully alive to the gravity of the news, stared -open-eyed at Rochefort. Mademoiselle Fontrailles alone found words, -other than blasphemies, to express her feelings. - -“Ah, the wretches!” said she. “I thought they would leave no stone -unturned by their vile hands.” - -“Monsieur,” said the Comtesse, finding voice, “are you certain of what -you say?” - -“Why, madame, they invited me to take a part in the business.” - -“And you refused?” - -“I refused, madame, not because I was of your party—in fact, to be -perfectly plain, at that moment I was rather against you—I refused -because I considered the whole proceeding a trick dishonouring to a -gentleman; and I told Monsieur Camus my opinion of the business in a -very few words.” - -“Comte Camus? Was he the agent who brought you this proposition?” - -“He was, madame. I can say so now openly, since we are no longer -friends. We quarrelled on a certain matter to-night, and if you are -desirous of knowing the details of our little quarrel, Javotte will be -able to supply them.” - -But the Comtesse had no ears for anything but the immediate danger that -threatened her, and Rochefort had to tell the whole story from the -beginning to the end. - -“Death of all the devils!” cried Jean Dubarry, when the story was -finished. “What an escape!” - -“The question is,” said Madame Dubarry, “have we escaped and shall we -be able to prevent these infamous ones from carrying out their plan?” - -“Prevent them!” cried Jean. “I will pistol the first man that lays -hands on the carriage. I will lock the hairdresser up in the cellar -till the moment comes when he is wanted. As for the modiste, we will -arrange that she will be all right. Prevent them! _Mordieu_! Yes, we -will prevent them.” - -“Excuse me,” said Rochefort, “but if I may be allowed to give my -advice, I would say to you, do not prevent them; let them carry out -their plan.” - -“And let them take my carriage?” - -“And the dress!” cried Mademoiselle Fontrailles. - -“And the hairdresser!” put in Jean. - -“Precisely,” said Rochefort. “With that power which is at your -disposal, madame, can you not have a new dress created, a new carriage -obtained, and a new hairdresser found in the course of the few hours -before us? My reason is this. Should they fancy that their plan is -successful they will try nothing else. Should we thwart them openly, I -would not say at what they would stop.” - -“Certainly,” cried Jean, “there’s truth in that. Can we not find a -carriage, a dress and a coiffeur! Let us think—let us think!” He -walked up and down the room, twisting his ruffles. - -“No one can dress my hair like Lubin,” said the Countess. - -“Excuse me,” said Rochefort, “but I believe there is a man whom I know -who is a genius in the art. He is unknown; but the day after to-morrow, -should you employ him, I believe he will be known to all Europe.” - -“As to the dress,” said Mademoiselle Fontrailles, “you know, dear -madame, that I was to be presented also. And our figures, are they not -nearly the same?” - -“_Dame_!” cried Jean, hitting himself a smack on the forehead. “I have -the carriage! It is at Vaudrin’s, in the Rue de la Madeleine. I saw it -yesterday. It has been made to the order of the Comtesse Walewski, who, -it seems, has not arrived yet; and all it requires is that the Dubarry -arms should be painted over those of the Comtesse. We only want a loan -of it, and five thousand francs will pay the bill.” - -The Comtesse turned to Rochefort. - -“Monsieur Rochefort, I can trust your taste as I trust your friendship. -All I ask you as a woman is this: Are you sure of your hairdresser?” - -“Absolutely, madame; he is an artist to the tips of his fingers. I will -stake my reputation on him.” - -The Comtesse inclined her head. She turned to Mademoiselle Fontrailles. - -“Camille, have you thought that this act of generosity will ruin -your presentation, for if I am to wear your dress, which is divinely -beautiful and has cost you a hundred thousand francs, how, then, are -you to appear before his Majesty?” - -“Madame,” said the girl, “I will have a cold; my presentation will be -put off, that is all. And I esteem it a very small sacrifice to make -for one who has benefited my family so deeply. Besides, madame, even if -my presentation never occurred, it would not give me a sleepless night. -The world has very few attractions for me.” - -Her dark eyes met those of Rochefort for a moment. There are seconds -of time that carry in them the essence of years, and it seemed to -Rochefort, in these few seconds, that some magic in the dark gaze of -the eyes that held him had seized upon his mind, indelibly altering it. - -The Comtesse’s only reply was to lay her hand in a caressing way upon -the beautiful arm of her friend. She turned to Jean: - -“Jean, are you sure of the carriage?” - -“_Mordieu_, yes. Vaudrin is ours entirely.” - -“Will it be possible to have the arms altered in this short time?” - -“He will do it. I will call upon him to-morrow morning at six o’clock.” - -“Well,” said the Comtesse, “I accept. I accept everything—your advice, -Monsieur de Rochefort, and your sacrifice, Camille. But it is a debt I -can never repay.” - -This sweet sentence was suddenly broken upon by a shriek of laughter -from Jean. Dubarry rarely laughed, but when he did so it took him like -convulsions—a very bad sign in a man. He flung himself on a couch and -slapped his thigh. - -“Their faces,” cried he, “when you appear, when the usher cries, -‘Madame la Comtesse de Béarn, Madame la Comtesse Dubarry.’ Choiseul’s -face!” - -“And Polastron’s!” cried the Comtesse, catching up the laugh. “And de -Guemenée’s!” - -Mademoiselle Fontrailles clasped her hands and laughed too. One might -have fancied that they were quite assured of their victory over the -profound and duplex Choiseul. They were laughing like this when a -man-servant appeared. He had knocked at the door, but as he had -received no answer and his business was urgent, he entered. - -“Madame,” said the servant, “Monsieur de Sartines has arrived, and -would speak a word with you on a matter of importance.” - -“Monsieur de Sartines,” said the Comtesse, rising, “at this hour! Show -him in.” - -Everyone rose, and as they stood waiting, the little clock on the -mantel chimed the hour. It was two o’clock in the morning. A minute -passed, and then the servant returned, opening wide the door. - -“Monsieur de Sartines.” - -Sartines bowed to the Comtesse, and then, individually, to each -present. He showed scarcely any surprise at the presence of Rochefort. - -Sartines was the burning centre of this conspiracy to present the -Comtesse Dubarry at Court in the teeth of all the opposition of the -nobles, and he wished his part in it to be as secret as possible; yet -he did not question Rochefort’s presence. He knew quite well that, -Rochefort being there, he must have joined hands with the Comtesse. He -was a man who never wasted time. - -“Madame,” said he, “I have grave news to tell you.” - -“Aha!” said the Comtesse, “more bad news. But stay, perhaps we know it. -Is it the plot to rob me of my carriage and my hairdresser?” - -“No, madame, I know nothing of any plot to rob you of your carriage. -It is about the Comtesse de Béarn I have come to speak. Did she not -receive a present to-day?” - -“Yes, a basket of flowers from an old lady who belongs to her province. -A Madame Turgis.” - -“Yes,” said de Sartines, “and a Secret Service agent has just brought -me news that amidst the flowers in that basket was a note.” - -“A note!” - -“A letter, I should say, giving the Comtesse de Béarn a full and true -account of the little plan by which she was induced to come to Paris.” - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_!” cried Madame Dubarry. “If the old fool only gets to -know that, we are ruined! I know her as well as if I had constructed -her. Once her pride and self-esteem are touched, she is hopeless to -deal with.” - -“At what hour did this basket of flowers arrive?” asked de Sartines. - -“At four o’clock.” - -“It has been in her private apartments ever since?” - -“Yes.” - -De Sartines looked at the clock on the mantel. - -“Ten hours and seven minutes. Well, madame, if in that time the -Comtesse de Béarn has not discovered the note, you are saved. Go at -once, madame, to her apartments, and if you can capture the accursed -basket and its contents, for Heaven’s sake do so. We must give her no -chance to find it in the morning.” - -Madame Dubarry left the room without a word. She passed through the -next room and down a corridor, where, taking a small lamp from a table, -she turned with it in her hand to a narrow staircase leading to the -next floor. Here she paused at a doorway, listened, and then, gently -opening the door, entered the Comtesse de Béarn’s sitting-room. - -On a table near the window stood the fateful basket of flowers. The -folding-doors leading to the bedroom were slightly open, and the -intruder was approaching to seize the basket, when a sound from the -bedroom made her pause, a low, deep groan, as if from someone in mortal -pain. - -“Help!” cried a muffled voice. “Who is that with the light? Ah! how I -suffer!” - -Without a word the Comtesse passed to the folding-doors, opened them, -and next moment was in the bedroom. On the bed, half-covered with the -clothes, lay the Comtesse de Béarn, on the floor near the stove lay a -chocolate-pot upset, and the contents staining the parquet. - -“_Mon Dieu_!” cried Madame Dubarry. “What has happened?” - -“Ah, madame!” cried the old woman, “I am nearly dead. Here have I lain -for hours in my misery. The pot of chocolate which I was heating on the -stove upset—and look at my leg!” - -She protruded a leg, and Madame Dubarry drew back with a cry. Foot -and ankle and the leg half-way up to the shin bone were scalded in a -manner that would be unpleasant to describe; but it was not the scalded -leg that evoked Madame Dubarry’s cry of anguish. It was the knowledge -that her presentation was now hopeless. For the Comtesse de Béarn to -undertake the journey to Versailles with a leg like that was clearly -impossible. - -The Choiseuls had taken all precautions, their bow had many strings. -This was the fatal one. The old woman on the bed, though suffering -severely, could not suppress the gleam of triumph that showed in her -eyes, now fixed on those of the Comtesse. - -“Ah, madame!” said Dubarry, “this was ill done. Had you known what -personal issues to yourself were involved, you would have been more -careful!” Then, lest she should lose all restraint over herself, and -fling the lamp in her hand at the head of the scalded one, she rushed -from the room, seized the basket of flowers, and with basket in one -hand and lamp in the other reached the ground floor, taking this time -the grand staircase. She broke into the room, where de Sartines and the -others were seated, flung the basket on a chair, so that it upset and -the contents tumbled pell-mell over the floor, and broke into tears. - -Everyone knew. - -“Has she found out?” cried Jean. - -“Madame,” said de Sartines, waving the Vicomte aside, “calm yourself; -all may not yet be lost.” - -“Ah, monsieur, you do not know,” sobbed the unfortunate woman. “Not -only has she found out, but she has scalded her leg, so that the affair -is now absolutely hopeless.” She told her tale, and as she told it her -sobs ceased, her eyes grew bright, and she finished standing before -them with clenched hands and sparkling eyes, more beautiful than ever. - -Mademoiselle Fontrailles had been collecting the flowers; there was -no sign of a letter among them. Jean Dubarry, white and beyond speech -and unable to vent his spleen on anything else, had cuffed the China -mandarin on to the floor, where it lay shattered. Rochefort, carried -away by the tragedy, was cursing. De Sartines only was calm. - -“It is impossible, then, for her to appear at Versailles?” said he. - -“Utterly, monsieur.” - -“Well, madame,” said de Sartines, “courage; all is not yet lost.” - -“Ah, Monsieur de Sartines,” said the Comtesse, “what do you mean? Do -you not know as well as I do that, failing the Comtesse de Béarn, the -thing is impossible? Even were I to find someone qualified to take the -place of this old woman, there would still be all the formalities of -the application. Monsieur de la Vrillière would have to inquire into -the antecedents of the lady, and Monsieur de Coigny would have to -receive the request, only to lose it for Monsieur to find and cancel on -account of the delay.” - -“Madame,” cut in de Sartines, “the plan which has just occurred to me -has nothing to do with the finding of a substitute. Madame la Comtesse -de Béarn shall present you; or, let us put it in this way: to-morrow -evening at ten o’clock you will be presented to his Majesty at the -Court of Versailles. I am only mortal, and therefore fallible; but if -you will leave the matter in my hands the thing shall be done, always -saving the direct interposition of God.” - -“You are, then, a magician?” cried the Comtesse. - -“No, madame; or only a white magician who works through human agency.” - -“Ah, Monsieur de Sartines,” cried the Comtesse, hope appearing again in -her eyes, “if you can only help me in this, I shall pray for you till -my dying day!” - -“Oh, madame,” replied de Sartines, with a laugh, “I would never dream -of imposing such a task upon the most beautiful lips in the world. I -only ask you now to work with me, for this immediate end.” - -“And what can I do?” - -“Carry on all your preparations for to-morrow night. Monsieur Rochefort -has explained to me the plot for the stealing of the carriage, the -dress and the coiffeur. Let the Vicomte attend to the carriage, let -Mademoiselle Fontrailles supply you with her dress, and let your most -trusted servant fetch the coiffeur that Monsieur Rochefort knows of.” - -“I will fetch him myself,” said Rochefort. - -“No, Rochefort,” said de Sartines, “I have need of you for something -else. May I put my reliance on your obedience in this crisis?” - -“Implicitly, Sartines,” replied the Comte. “Call upon me for what you -will. _Mordieu_! I have fought many a duel, but never has a fight -stirred my blood like this. I will act any part or dress for any part -except the part of spectator.” - -“I will find enough for you to do, and now I must be going. It is after -three o’clock, and if you will take a seat in my carriage, I will give -you a lift on your way home, and explain what I want.” - -“And I will see you again, monsieur?” said the Comtesse, addressing the -Minister of Police. - -“Not till after the presentation, Madame, when I hope to have the -honour of kissing your hand. You understand, I have nothing to do with -this affair. You must even abuse me to your friends, who are absolutely -sure to be in communication with your enemies. And now, if I were you, -I would send for your physician to attend to Madame de Béarn’s leg.” - -He bade his adieux. - -Rochefort, having scribbled the name of the coiffeur on a piece -of paper supplied by Jean, gazed into the eyes of Mademoiselle -Fontrailles, as he lifted his lips from her hand. He fancied that her -glance told him all that he wished, and more than he had hoped. - -In the hall Sartines enveloped himself in a black cloak, put on a -broad-brimmed hat, and, followed by Rochefort, entered the carriage -that was waiting in the courtyard. It was a carriage, perfectly plain, -without adornment, such as the Minister used when wishing to mask his -movements. - -“You did not come in your own carriage, then?” said Rochefort, as they -drove away. - -“Oh, dear, no,” said Sartines. “My carriage is still waiting at -Choiseul’s. I slipped away, having already sent an agent for this -plain carriage to meet me at the third lamp-post on the right, as you -go up the Rue St. Honoré from the Rue du Faubourg.” - -“You had an agent in attendance, then?” - -“My dear Rochefort, three of Choiseul’s servants are my agents, and it -was from one of them that I learned of this precious plot about the -basket of flowers. You live in the Rue de Longueville!” - -“Ah, you know my new address!” said Rochefort, laughing. - -“I know everything about you, my dear Rochefort. Now, will you put your -head out of the window, and tell the coachman to drive to the Rue de -Longueville? I cannot go back to the Hôtel de Sartines at once. I must -crave the shelter of your apartments; we are being followed.” - -“Followed?” - -“_Mordieu_, yes! The Dubarrys’ house has been watched all day. When I -drove up in this carriage, I saw one of Choiseul’s agents, who, without -doubt, tried to question my coachman whilst I was in the house; a -perfectly useless proceeding, as my coachman is Sergeant Bonvallot. I -know quite well, now, that there is a man running after us, so do as I -say.” - -Rochefort put his head out and gave the direction. - -“My faith!” said he, as he resumed his place, “but they are keen, the -Choiseuls.” - -“They are more than that. You cannot guess at all the way this matter -has stirred the whole court. Of course, when the thing is over and -done with, and the presentation an accomplished matter, the Comtesse -will not be able to number her friends. But she is lost if Choiseul -succeeds, and if she succeeds Choiseul is lost. Once give her an -accredited place at court, and the breaking of Choiseul will be only -the matter of a few months.” - -“Sartines,” said the young man with that daring which gave him -permission to say things other men would not have dreamed of saying, -“you are not doing this for love of the Dubarry?” - -“I?” said de Sartines. “I am doing it to break Choiseul.” - -The carriage which had entered the Rue de Longueville stopped at a -house on the left, and the two men got out. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE METHODS OF MONSIEUR DE SARTINES - - -De Sartines said a word to his coachman and, without even glancing down -the street to see if he were followed or not, entered the house, the -door of which Rochefort had opened with a key. They passed upstairs to -the apartments of the Count. In the sitting-room de Sartines cast off -his cloak, flung it on a chair with his hat, and took his seat. - -“Now let us talk for a moment,” said he. “And first, a word about -yourself. It is unfortunate that you killed that man, considering that -he was one of Choiseul’s agents.” - -“I killed him in self-defence,” said Rochefort; “or at least, I can say -that he attempted my life before I took his.” - -“Oh, the killing is nothing,” said de Sartines. “The vermin is well -out of the way. What really matters is, that you balked Choiseul in -his attempt to spy upon Dubarry’s secrets. Of course, he may never -know the truth of the matter; but, if he does—well, you will need a -lot of protection, and we will endeavour to find it for you. Now to -the Comtesse’s business. It is quite clear that the old Béarn woman -is literally out of court. Every other woman in Paris or Versailles -is equally impossible, or, at least, seemingly so. I, as Minister of -Police, have great power; but I am powerless to help, for to help I -would have to declare my hand openly, which, as you well may guess, -is impossible to one in my position. Besides, my power has limits. I -cannot say to one of these Court women: ‘You _shall_ present Madame -Dubarry to-night.’ No; yet all the same, I am powerful enough to ensure -that presentation, I believe.” - -Rochefort listened with interest. It was rarely that de Sartines -unbosomed himself, and when he did it was generally only to show a -cuirass of steel painted to imitate flesh; but to-night was different. -He knew Rochefort to be absolutely reliable to those who trusted him. - -“You talk in enigmas, my dear Sartines,” said the young man. “You say -you are powerless, and then you say you are powerful enough to assure -the presentation. Please explain yourself.” - -“No man can explain himself, with the exception, perhaps, of Monsieur -Rousseau, whose ‘Confessions’ you have perhaps read. But a man may -explain his methods. Well, my methods are these. Being by nature a -rather stupid and lazy man, I seek out the cleverest and most active -men I can find to act for me. People fancy that my life is spent in -searching for criminals, political offenders, and so forth; on the -contrary, it is spent in looking for clever men. I have one gift, -without which no man can hold a position like mine. I know men. - -“More than that, I hunt for men and buy them just as M. Boehmer hunts -for and buys diamonds. The consequence is that I have more genius at my -command in the Hôtel de Sartines than his Majesty has at Versailles or -Choiseul at the Ministry. I have Escritain, the greatest linguist in -France, who knows not only all European languages, but all dialects. -I have Fremin, the first cryptographer. I have Jumeau, the first -accountant, who could reduce the value of the universe to francs and -sous and, more important, discover an error in his work of one centime. -I have Beauregard, the bravest man in France; Verpellieux, the best -swordsman; Valjean, whose tongue would talk him into the nether regions -and whose hand, if it caught hold of some new Eurydice, would bring her -out, even though it fetched everything else with her. I have Formineux, -a blind man whose sense of smell is phenomenal; and I have Lavenne, the -greatest Secret Service agent in the world. Bring me a book you can’t -translate, the name of a man you can’t find, a crime you can’t fathom, -a suspicion you want verified, you will find the answer at the Hôtel de -Sartines. One of these brave men, who are mine, will read the riddle. - -“But outside the Hôtel de Sartines I have other men at my service. -Yes, you will find a lot of people attached to us. You yourself, my -dear Rochefort, have just become one of us. The Hôtel de Sartines has -touched you.” - -Rochefort laughed. “If it does not touch me any more unpleasantly than -now, I shall not mind,” said he. “But you have not yet explained.” - -“What?” - -“Your plans as to the Dubarry.” - -“Oh, that. I was coming to that; let me come to it in my own way. I -have shown you the power at my disposal. I have all sorts of brains -ready to work for me, all sorts of hands ready to do my bidding; but -all those brains and hands would be useless to me had I not an intimate -knowledge of their capacities, and had I not the power of selection. -More than that, my dear Rochefort; I have, I believe, the dramatist’s -gift of valuing and using shades of character. Dealing, as I do, with -the most complex and highly civilized society in the world, I would -be lost without this gift, which might have made me a good dramatist -if Fate had not condemned me to be a policeman. In fact, my work at -Versailles and in Paris has mainly to do with the reading backwards -through plots, far more complicated than the plots of Molière, to find -the authors’ names. - -“Now I come to the Dubarry business. This woman must be presented -to-morrow night. Choiseul has as good as stolen her carriage and her -dressmaker—that will be put right. Choiseul has succeeded in making -Madame de Béarn half boil herself to death. But Choiseul, who fancies -that he has the whole business in the palm of his hand, has reckoned -without the Hôtel de Sartines and the geniuses whom I have collected -for years past, just as Monsieur d’Anjou collects seals or Monsieur de -Duras Roman coins. - -“I am about to employ one of these geniuses to work a miracle for -Madame Dubarry. His name is Ferminard. He lives at the Maison -Gambrinus—which is a tavern in the Porcheron quarter—and, as you have -promised to serve us, you will go there to-morrow at noon, or a little -before, with my agent Lavenne, and conduct this Ferminard to the Rue de -Valois. Lavenne will not go to the Rue de Valois, for I will have other -work for him to do, and besides, it is just as well for him not to go -near the Dubarrys’ house, for, clever as he is in the art of disguise, -Choiseul will have men watching all day who have the scent of hounds. -We must run no risks.” - -“Let us understand,” said Rochefort. “I am to meet your agent, -Lavenne—where?” - -“He will call for you here.” - -“Good! Then I am to go with him to the Maison Gambrinus, find -Ferminard, and conduct him to Madame Dubarry’s house in the Rue de -Valois—all that seems very simple.” - -“Perhaps. But you must be on your guard, for this Ferminard is a _bon -viveur_. Taverns simply suck him in, and were he to get lost in one, -you would find him next drunk and useless.” - -“A drunkard?” - -“No, a man who drinks. Never look down on these people, Rochefort. -Drink may be simply the rags a beggar walks in, or the robes and -regalia that a royal mind adorns itself with to enter the kingdom of -dreams.” - -“And what am I to tell this Ferminard to do?” - -“You are to tell him nothing, simply because you are a stranger to -him, and he would look on orders from a stranger as an impertinence. -Lavenne, however, knows him to the bone, and is a friend of his. -Lavenne will give him private instructions, and then hand him over to -you.” - -“Very well. I will obey your orders, though they completely mystify me.” - -“I assure you,” said de Sartines, “that I have no intention of -mystifying you; but I cannot explain my idea to you simply because I -have to explain it to Lavenne. It is after four in the morning, and I -must get back to the Hôtel de Sartines. There is a man still watching -at the corner of the street; he must not follow me. Now, do as I tell -you. Take my black cloak and broad-brimmed hat, and put them on. We -are both about the same size. Go out, walk down the street, go down the -Rue de la Tour, and then through the Rue Picpus, returning here by the -Rue de la Vallière. The fool will follow you all the time.” - -“And you?” - -“And I,” said de Sartines, putting on Rochefort’s cloak and hat, “will -slip away to the Hôtel de Sartines, whilst you are leading that _sot_ -his dance.” - -“But he will follow me back here.” - -“Of course he will, and he will see you go in and shut the door. -Lavenne will bring you back your cloak and hat in a parcel. The point -is, that they will never know that the man in the black cloak and hat, -who left the Hôtel Dubarry with Monsieur Rochefort, returned to the -Hôtel de Sartines.” - -“But your carriage?” - -“I told the coachman to take the carriage back to the place it came -from. They will not follow an empty carriage; were they to do so, they -would get nothing for their pains, as it came from a livery stable -managed by the wife of Jumeau, that accountant of whom I spoke just -now.” - -Rochefort looked in astonishment at this man, whose methods were as -intricate and minute as the reasoning power that directed them; whose -life was a maze to which he alone possessed the clue, and whose path -was never in a straight line. - -He followed implicitly the instructions he had received, conscious all -the time that he was being tracked, and once glimpsing a stealthy form -that slipped from house-shadow to house-shadow. When he returned, de -Sartines had vanished, and, casting himself on his bed dressed as he -was, wearied with the night’s work, he fell asleep. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -FERMINARD - - -When he awoke, with the full daylight staring into the room, the first -remembrance that came to him was that of Mademoiselle Fontrailles. The -whole of the past night seemed like some page torn from a romance; only -this girl from the South seemed real. He was in love, for the first -time in his life, and he did not recognize the fact that his passion -had bound him openly to the Dubarrys, cast him head over heels into -politics, to sink or swim with that exceedingly dubious family. - -Rochefort had a big stake to lose; he had estates in Auvergne, his -youth and his position in society. He had no political ambitions, but -he had an ambition, ever living and always being gratified, to shine -in his own peculiar way. He set the fashion in coats and morals, his -sayings were repeated, even though many of them were scarcely worth -repetition; his eccentricities, which were genuine and not assumed, -were a feature of Paris life. Paris was his true home, and though he -was seen frequently at Versailles, he was seen more often at the Café -de Régence. He was the first of the dandies, the predecessor of the -_boulevardier_ of the Boulevard de Gand and the Café de Paris, the -prefiguration in flesh of Tortoni’s and the Second Empire. - -Our present utilitarian age could no more produce a Rochefort than -one of our engineers could produce a butterfly; only the full summer -of social life which fell on Athens four hundred years before Christ, -which fell on France in the time of Louis XIV. and Louis XV., and which -brushed England with its wing in the time of the Regency, can produce -these rare and useless human flowers. Useless, that is to say, as fine -pictures, Ming figures, and live dragon-flies are useless. - -He had, then, a big stake to lose by venturing into the stormy arena -of politics, for the hand of de Choiseul was a heavy hand, and with -the famous diamond-rimmed snuff-box held many things, including -confiscation, exile, and even imprisonment. But Rochefort never thought -of this, and, if he had thought of it, he would have pursued his -present course absolutely unchecked. This dandy and trifler with life -had no thought at all for danger, and the prudence that arises from -self-interest was not one of his possessions. Leaving all that aside, -he was in love, and the object of his love was in the path of his -present progress. - -He rang for Lermina, his valet, and bathed and dressed himself -with most scrupulous care. It was now half-past eleven. He ordered -_déjeuner_ to be served a quarter of an hour earlier than its usual -time, and was seated at the meal when Lavenne was announced. He told -the servant to show the visitor up, and when Lavenne entered rose from -the table to greet him. - -Lavenne formed a striking contrast to the elegant Rochefort. Lavenne -was a man who, at first sight, seemed a young man, and at second -sight, a man of middle age, soberly dressed, of middle height, and -remarkable only for eyes wonderfully bright and luminous. Rochefort, -who did not possess de Sartines’ power of reading men, had still the -gift of deciding at once whether a person pleased him or not. He liked -this man’s manner and appearance and face, and received him in a manner -that at once made the newcomer at home. - -Rochefort had not two manners, one for the rich and one for the poor. -Whilst always rigidly keeping his own place, he would talk familiarly -with anyone, from the king to the beggar at the corner of the street. -But it would go hard with the man who presumed on this fact. Lavenne -knew Rochefort quite well by name and appearance, had ranked him among -the titled larvæ of the Court who were always passing under his eyes, -and was surprised to find, after a few minutes’ talk, what a pleasant -person he was. - -“I have left the hat and cloak, monsieur, with your servant,” said -Lavenne. “My master, the Comte de Sartines, gave me instructions to -bring them with me. - -“Ah, the hat and cloak!” said Rochefort. “I had forgotten them. Thanks. -Will you not be seated? I have just finished _déjeuner_, and shall be -quite at your disposal when the carriage arrives. I ordered it for -twelve, as I suppose we had better drive to this place, which is in the -Porcheron district. Will you not have a glass of wine?” He poured out a -glass of Beaune, and whilst Lavenne drank it, finished his breakfast, -chatting all the time, but saying nothing at all on the object of -their journey till they were in the carriage and driving to their -destination. - -“You expect to find him in, this Monsieur Ferminard?” asked Rochefort. - -“Yes, monsieur. He is very poor just now, and when in that state he -avoids the streets and cafés.” - -“Ah, ah!” said Rochefort, wondering how this very poor man, who avoided -even the streets, could be of help to the powerful Comtesse Dubarry at -one of the most critical moments of her life. But he said nothing more; -he did not like to appear as though he were trying to draw Lavenne out. - -The Porcheron quarter lay between the Faubourg Montmartre and La Ville -l’Évêque. It was sparsely populated, and here, at a tavern whose sign -represented a hound running down a hare amidst long grass, the carriage -drew up. - -This was the Maison Gambrinus, a house of considerable repute for the -excellence of its wine. Founded in the year 1614 by William Gambrinus, -a Dutchman from Dordrecht, it was famous for three things—the -excellence of its cookery, the goodness of its wine, and the modesty -of its charges. Turgis, who now owned the place, possessed a wife who -had been kitchenmaid at the Hôtel Noailles under the famous Coquellard; -being a pretty girl, she had obtained from him, as a mark of his favour -and as a wedding gift, a recipe for stewing veal, that he reckoned as -one of his chief possessions. This same recipe brought people to the -Maison Gambrinus from all over Paris, so that Turgis did a fair enough -business. - -As the carriage drew up, a big man appeared at the door of the inn; -he was so broad that he nearly filled the doorway, which was by no -means narrow. One might have fancied that the mould for his face had -been cast on that great and jovial day when Nature, tired of making -ordinary folk, took thought and said to herself: “Now let us make an -innkeeper.” - -It was an ideal face of its kind—fat, material, smiling—and promising -everything in the way of good cheer and comfort. Yet to-day, to -Lavenne’s surprise, this face, ordinarily so jovial, wore an expression -that sat ill upon it, or rather, one might say, it had lost somewhat -the natural expression that sat so well upon it. - -“Turgis,” said Lavenne, as they followed him into the big room with a -sanded floor, which formed the _salle-à-manger_ and bar combined, “we -have come to see Monsieur Ferminard. Is he in?” - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_!” cried Turgis, “is he in? Why, Monsieur Lavenne, he -has not been out for a fortnight; he has driven half my customers away, -and his bill is still owing. Three hams, six dozen eggs, thirty-seven -bottles of wine of Anjou, bread, salt, olives; a bill for sixty-five -francs, to say nothing of the money I have lost through him. Before I -take another poet as a guest, I will set light with my own hand to the -Máison Gambrinus. Listen to him!” - -From an adjoining room came the sound of a loud and high-pitched voice, -laughing, talking, bursting out now and then into snatches of song, and -now low-pitched and seemingly engaged in argument. Then, all at once, -came a furious stamping, a cry, and the sound of a table being overset. - -“_Pardieu_!” cried Rochefort, “he seems busy. What on earth is he -doing?” - -“Doing, monsieur!” replied the host. “Nothing. He is writing a play.” - -“Does he write with his feet, then, this Monsieur Ferminard?” - -“Aye, does he,” replied Turgis, bending to lift a bottle from the floor -and placing it on one of the tables, “and with his tongue and fists and -head. Gascon that he is, he acts all his tragedies as he writes them. -He has been writing a duel since noon, and has smashed, God knows how -much of my furniture. Sixty-five francs he owes me, which will not -be paid till his tragedy is finished; by which time, Heaven help me! -I fear he will have devoured and drunk the contents of my cellar and -destroyed my inn. And, were it not that he is the best fellow going -and once did me a service, I would bundle him out of my place neck and -crop, poems, plays and all.” - -The noise from the adjoining room suddenly ceased, as if the poet -had become aware of the voices of the innkeeper and the new-comers. -The door burst open, and a man in his shirt-sleeves—a short, rather -stout, clean-shaved individual, with a mobile face and bright, piercing -eyes—appeared. He held a pen in his hand. - -“_Morbleu_!” cried this apparition, in a testy voice, speaking to the -landlord without even a glance at the others. “Have you no thought for -the comfort of your guests? With your chatter, chatter, chatter, you -have spoilt one of the finest of my passages.” - -“And what about my tables?” burst out Turgis, suddenly flying into a -rage, “and my glasses? Four broken this day, and my wainscoting pierced -with the point of your rapier, and my room half wrecked—and you talk -to me of your passages! What about my custom driven away? For one may -not sneeze, it appears to me, without your poems being upset and your -passages spoilt. What about my sixty-five francs?” - -“They shall be paid,” said the poet, taking a minor key. “Ah, Monsieur -Lavenne!” His eye had just fallen on Lavenne. - -“Pardon me,” said Lavenne to Rochefort. He went towards the tragedian, -took him by the arm and drew him into the adjoining room. Then he shut -the door. - -Turgis wiped his forehead. “His passages! I wish he would find a -passage to take him to the devil. What may I get for monsieur?” - -“Get me a bottle of that wine for which you are so famous,” said -Rochefort, taking a seat at a table, “and two glasses—that is right. -He seems a strange customer, this Monsieur Ferminard.” - -“Oh, monsieur,” replied Turgis, opening the wine and filling the -glasses, “he would be right enough were he only to stick to his trade.” - -“And what is his trade?” - -“An actor, monsieur; he is a great actor. He belonged to the Théâtre -Molière; but he quarrelled with the director, and the quarrel came to -blows, and Ferminard wounded the director. Yes, monsieur, he would now -be in prison only for Monsieur de Sartines, who took an interest in -him, having seen him act. Ah, monsieur, he was a great actor. But he -was not content to be an actor. Oh, no! What does he do but write a -comedy himself, to beat Molière? And what does he do but get the ear -of the Duc de la Vrillière and his permission to produce this precious -comedy at Versailles, with Court ladies and gentlemen to act in it. -If he had acted himself in it, the thing would have been saved, but -belonging to the Théâtre Molière, he was bound by agreement not to act -elsewhere. - -“Well, monsieur, the thing went so badly that he abused the actors and -actresses when they came off the stage, and, as a result, he was caned -by Monsieur de Coigny.” - -“Ah!” said Rochefort, “I heard something of that; but I was away from -Paris, and I did not hear the details. He abused them. _Mordieu_! -that’s good.” - -“Yes, monsieur. I had the story from his own mouth. He told Madame -de Duras, who was acting as one of his precious shepherdesses, that -her head was as wooden as her legs. As for me, I would have been a -mouse among all that company; but he—he does not care for the King -himself; and so outraged does he feel even still, that could he burn -Versailles down and all it contains he would be happy. He is not the -man to forgive the strokes of Monsieur de Coigny’s cane. Your health, -monsieur! Still the pity is that the fault was not with the actors, but -with the play. It is common sense, besides. I, for instance, am a very -good man at selling that wine you are drinking. But if I were to go to -Anjou and try to make that wine, I would not be good at the business. -Just so! A man may be a very good actor, and yet may not be able to -write a play that another man could act well in.” - -A sudden burst of laughter from the adjoining room cut Turgis short. - -“What is up now, I wonder?” said he. - -“He seems laughing at something that Monsieur Lavenne is telling him,” -said Rochefort, whose interest in the whole affair had suddenly taken -on an extra keenness, and who was deeply puzzled by a business of which -he could find no possible explanation. “Come, refill your glass! You -deserve to drink such good wine since you choose to sell it.” - -The landlord did as he was told without the slightest trace of -unwillingness, and they sat talking on indifferent matters till the -door of the next room suddenly opened and Lavenne appeared. - -He took Rochefort outside the inn to the roadway, where the carriage -was still in waiting. - -“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “I have arranged everything with Ferminard. -But it is absolutely necessary that he should go to the Rue de Valois -in such a fashion that no one can recognize him. Will you, therefore, -take your seat in the carriage, and he will join you in a few minutes.” - -“Certainly,” said Rochefort, who had drunk enough wine and on whom the -conversation of the innkeeper had begun to pall. “And here is a louis -to pay the score. He can keep the change.” - -“Thank you, monsieur,” said Lavenne. “You will see me no more, for my -part in this business is now over.” - -“Well, then, good-day to you,” said the Comte, “and thank you for your -pleasant company.” - -Lavenne bowed and returned to the inn, and Rochefort, telling his -coachman to wait, got into the carriage. Five minutes passed, and -then ten. He was becoming impatient, when from the inn door emerged -an old man of miserable appearance who blinked at the sun, blinked -at the carriage, and then came towards it and placed his hand on the -door-handle. - -Rochefort, who did not care for the appearance of this person, was on -the point of asking him what the devil he wanted, when he caught a -glimpse of Lavenne at the inn door, nodding to him to indicate that -all was right. Then he grasped the fact that this incredible mass of -decrepitude was Ferminard. He helped the old fellow in, and the driver, -who already had his instructions, turned his horses, whipped them up, -and started off in the direction of the Faubourg St. Honoré. - -“Well, Monsieur Ferminard,” said Rochefort, laughing, “if I had not had -the honour of seeing you when comparatively young, I would not have -known you in your old age.” - -“Oh, that is nothing, monsieur,” said Ferminard; “to turn oneself into -an old man is an easy matter. The great difficulty is for an actor to -turn himself into a youth. Has Monsieur ever seen me act?” - -“Often,” said Rochefort, who, in fact, had little care for the theatre, -and had never seen him act, “and I was charmed.” - -“Monsieur is very good to say so. As for me, I have never been charmed -by my own acting, though ’twas passable enough; but the fact is, -monsieur, I was not born an actor. I was born a dramatist.” - -“Oh, ho!” - -“Yes, monsieur, that is how fate treats one. My head is full of my -creations; they seize me, and make me write. Ah! whilst I am writing, -then I can act; if I were impersonating one of my own characters on the -stage, then I could act. But when I have to play the part of some other -man’s creation in character, then I feel a stick.” - -“You have written many plays?” - -“Numerous, monsieur,” said the greatest actor and worst dramatist in -France. - -“I hear you had one staged in Versailles.” - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_!” said Ferminard. “All France knows that tale. Ah, -_dame_, when I think of it, I could kick this coach to pieces—I could -eat the world. Well, they shall be rewarded. Ferminard will have his -revenge.” - -He laughed and slapped his thigh. - -They had entered the Rue de Pontoise, which led into the Rue de Valois. - -“And now, monsieur,” said Ferminard, “I will forget, if you please, -that I am an actor, and remember that I am an old man.” - -He did, with strange effect. As the carriage turned into the courtyard -of the Hôtel Dubarry, had any spy been watching the antique face of -Ferminard at the window of the coach, he would have sent a report -absolutely confusing to the Choiseul faction. He alighted, leaning on -Rochefort’s arm. In the hall, when they were admitted, Jean Dubarry, -who was waiting and who evidently had been advised by de Sartines -of what to expect, seized upon Ferminard as though he had been a -long-lost treasure, and spirited him away down a corridor, apologizing -to Rochefort, and calling back to him over his shoulder to wait for a -moment until he returned. - -Rochefort, left alone, was turning to look at a stand of arms, supposed -to contain the pikes and swords and spears of vanished Dubarrys slain -in warfare, when a step drew his attention, and turning, he found -himself face to face with Javotte. He had completely forgotten Javotte. -But she had not forgotten him. She had a tray of glasses in her hand, -and as their eyes met she blushed, looked down, and then glanced up -again with a charming smile. - -He had kissed her the night before; but she was only one of the -thousand girls that the light-hearted Rochefort had kissed in passing, -so to speak, and without ulterior intent. The pleasantest thing in -the world is to kiss a pretty girl, just as one of the pleasantest -things in the world is to draw a rose towards one, inhale its perfume, -and release it unharmed; but very few men have the art of doing the -thing successfully. Rochefort had. Just as some old gentlemen, by sheer -power of personality, can say the most _risqué_ and terrible things -without giving offence, so could Rochefort with women do things and -say things that another man would not have dared. It was the touch of -irresponsibility in his nature that gave him, perhaps, this power. - -It was not the kiss lightly given the night before that made Javotte -blush; it was the presence of Rochefort. Since his rescue of her, he -completely filled her mind. - -“Ah! little one,” said he, “good-morning!” - -“Good-morning, monsieur.” - -“And where are you going?” - -“To the room of Madame la Comtesse, though I am no longer in her -service.” - -“No longer in her service?” - -“No, monsieur.” - -“And in whose service are you now, _petite_?” - -“I belong to Mademoiselle Fontrailles, monsieur. I was only temporarily -with Madame la Comtesse; and as her maid, Jacqueline, has returned to -her this morning, and as I seemed to please Mademoiselle Fontrailles, -who is staying here till after the presentation, I entered her service.” - -“Ah, ha!” said Rochefort. “And where does mademoiselle live?” - -“She has apartments in the Rue St. Dominic, monsieur, where she lives -with her nurse.” - -“Her nurse!” - -“Yes, monsieur, an old Indian woman, who is as black as my shoe.” - -The lively Javotte was proceeding to a vivacious description of her -black sister from Martinique when a step on the stairs checked her; she -vanished with the glasses, and Rochefort, turning, found himself face -to face with Mademoiselle Fontrailles, who had just entered the hall. - -They bowed to one another ceremoniously. It seemed to Rochefort that, -beautiful as she had appeared on the night before, she was even more -beautiful by daylight, here in the deserted hall of the Hôtel Dubarry. - -“Well, mademoiselle,” said he, “and how are things progressing?” - -“Marvellously, monsieur; but do not let us talk here of state secrets.” -She led the way into the little room where they had parted but a few -hours before. - -“The carriage has been arranged for, your coiffeur will, I am sure, -prove a success; he has arrived, and the Vicomte Jean has put him under -lock and key, with a pocketful of louis to play with, and the promise -of an equal amount when his work is done; my poor dress is now being -altered and promises a perfect fit. We are saved, in fact, and thanks -to you.” - -“No, mademoiselle, thanks to luck; for if I had not gone to Choiseul’s -ball I would not have met you.” - -“You mean, you would not have discovered the plot to steal the carriage -and the dress.” - -“But for you the plot would have lain in my mind unrevealed. I have a -horror of Court intrigue. As it is, I have set myself against Choiseul, -and killed one of his agents, and thwarted his best hopes; but I count -all that nothing in your service.” - -Mademoiselle Fontrailles gazed at him steadily as he stood there with -this patent declaration of homage on his lips, and all the laughter and -lightness gone from his happy-go-lucky and defiant face. - -She guessed now from his face and manner what was in his mind, and that -the slightest weakening on her part would bring him down on his knee -before her. - -“I thank you, monsieur,” said she. “And now to the question of the -Comtesse de Béarn.” - -“Ah!” said Rochefort, inwardly cursing the Comtesse de Béarn, “I had -forgotten the Comtesse. And how is she this morning?” - -“She is still very bad.” - -“And to-night?” - -“She will be quite unable to attend at Versailles.” - -Rochefort was about to make a remark when the door leading to the -adjoining room opened, and Madame Dubarry herself appeared, young, -fresh, triumphant and laughing. - -“Did I hear you speaking of the Comtesse de Béarn?” asked she, as she -extended her hand to Rochefort. - -“Yes, madame, and I am grieved to hear that she is still indisposed.” - -“Then, monsieur, you have heard false news. Madame la Comtesse has -nearly recovered, and will be quite well enough to act for me to-night.” - -Mademoiselle Fontrailles smiled, and Rochefort, not knowing what to -make of these contradictory statements, stood glancing from one to the -other of his informers. - -“Not only that,” continued Madame Dubarry, “but you may tell everyone -the news. That Madame la Comtesse has had a slight accident and has -now perfectly recovered. And now I must dismiss you, dear Monsieur -Rochefort, for I have a world of business before me; but only till -to-night, when we will meet at Versailles. You will be there, will you -not?” - -“Yes,” said Rochefort, “I shall be there to see your triumph—and -Mademoiselle Fontrailles?” - -“I shall not be there,” said the girl, “or only in spirit; but my dress -will be there.” - -“Ah!” said Rochefort, “even that is something.” - -Then off he went. Light-hearted now and laughing, for it seemed to him -that, though his affair had seemingly not made an inch of progress, all -was well between him and Camille Fontrailles. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE COMTESSE DE BÉARN - - -To present the mentality of the Comtesse de Béarn one would have -to reconstruct the lady, and rebuild from all sorts of medieval -constituents her mind, person and dress. Feudal times have left us -cities such as Nuremberg and Vittoria standing just as they stood in -the twilight of the Middle Ages, but the people have vanished, only -vaguely to be recalled. - -The Comtesse de Béarn was medieval, and carried the twelfth century -clinging to her coif and mantelet right into the heart of the Paris of -1770. Arrogant, narrow, superstitious and proud as Lucifer, this old -lady, impoverished by years of litigation with the family of Saluce, -inveigled up to Paris by a false statement that her lawsuit was about -to be settled to her advantage, entertained by the Dubarrys and filled -by them with promises and hopes, had agreed to act as introducer to the -Comtesse. She disliked the business, but was prepared to swallow it for -the sake of the lawsuit. - -Choiseul’s note conveyed in the basket of flowers had acted with -withering effect. It was written by a master mind that understood -finely the mind it was addressing, and its one object was to convey the -sentence: “You have been tricked.” - -She saw the truth at once; she had been fetched up to Paris to act as -a servant in the Dubarrys’ interests; she had been outwitted, played -with. In an instant, twenty obscure and dubious happenings fell into -their proper place, and she saw in a flash not only the deception but -the fact that when she was done with she would be cast aside like a -sucked orange; returned to her castle on the banks of the Meuse. - -The unholy anger that filled the old lady’s mind might have led her at -once to open revolt had she not possessed a lively sense of the power -of the Dubarrys, and an instinctive fear of the Vicomte Jean. To revolt -and say: “I will take no part in the presentation,” would have led to a -pitched battle, in which she felt she would be worsted. She was too old -and friendless to fight all these young, vigorous people who were on -their own ground. But she would not present the woman who had tricked -her at the Court of Versailles. - -She boiled a pot of chocolate, and poured the contents over her foot -and leg. The physical agony was nothing to the satisfaction of her -mind. Madame Dubarry’s face when she saw the wound was more soothing -than all the cold cream that Noirmont, the Dubarrys’ doctor, applied -to the scald; and this morning, stretched on her back, with her leg -swathed in cotton and the pain eased, she revelled in the thought of -her enemy’s discomfiture. She felt no fear; they could not kill her; -they could not turn her out of the house; she was an honoured guest, -and she lay waiting for the distraction and the wailing and tears of -the Dubarry woman, and the storming of the Vicomte Jean. - -Instead of these came, at twelve o’clock or thereabouts, Noirmont, -the physician, accompanied by Chon Dubarry, who had just arrived from -Luciennes. The charming Chon seemed in the best spirits, and was full -of solicitation and pity for her “dear Comtesse.” - -Noirmont examined the leg, declared that his treatment had produced a -decidedly beneficial effect, and, without a word as to when the patient -might expect to be able to walk again, bowed himself out, leaving Chon -and the Comtesse together. - -“You see, my dear lady,” said the old woman, “how fallible we all are -to accident. But for that unlucky pot of chocolate, I would now be -dressed, and ready to pay my _devoirs_ to Madame la Comtesse; as it is, -if I am able to leave my bed in a week’s time I will be fortunate, and -even then I will, without doubt, have to be carried from this house to -my carriage.” - -“Madame,” said Chon devoutly, “we are all in the hands of Providence, -whose decrees are inscrutable. Let us, then, bear our troubles with a -spirit, and hope for the best.” - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_!” cried the old woman, irritated at the extraordinary -cheerfulness of the other, and feeling instinctively that some new move -of the accursed Dubarrys was in progress, “it is easy for the whole in -body and limb to dictate cheerfulness to the afflicted. Here am I laid -up, and my affairs needing my attention in the country; but I think -less of them than of the Court to-night, which I am unable to attend, -and of the presentation which I am debarred from taking my part in. Not -on my own account, for I have long given up the vanities of the world, -but on account of Madame la Comtesse Dubarry.” - -“Truly, there seems a fate in it,” said Chon, with great composure -and cheerfulness. “Everything seemed going on so happily for your -interests and ours. Well, it cannot be helped; there is no use in -grumbling. The great thing now, dear Madame de Béarn, is your health, -which is, after all, more important to you than money or success in -lawsuits. Can I order you anything that you may require?” - -The only thing Madame de Béarn could have wished for at the moment was -Madame Dubarry’s head on a charger, but she did not put her desire in -words. She lay watching with her bright old eyes whilst Chon, with a -curtsey, turned and left the room. Then she lay thinking. - -She was beaten. The Dubarrys had in some way found a method of evading -defeat. Unfortunate Comtesse! When she had put herself to all this -pain and discomfort she little knew that she was setting herself, not -against the Dubarrys alone, but against de Sartines, and all the wit, -ingenuity and genius of the Hôtel de Sartines. Moss-grown in her old -château by the Meuse, she knew nothing of Paris, its trickery and its -artifice. She had all this yet to learn. - -All that she knew now was the fact that the plans of her enemies were -prospering, and the mad desire to thwart them would have given her -energy and fortitude enough to leave her bed, and hobble from the -house, had she not known quite well that such a thing was impossible. -The Dubarrys would not let her go. - -Then a plan occurred to her. She rang the bell which had been placed on -the table beside her, and when the maid entered, ordered her to fetch -at once Madame Turgis, the old lady from her province who had sent her -the basket of flowers. - -“She lives in the Rue Petit Picpus, No. 10,” said she. “And ask her to -come at once, for I feel worse.” - -The maid left the room, promising to comply with the order. Five -minutes passed, and then came a knock at the door, which opened, -disclosing the Vicomte Jean. He was all smiles and apologies and -affability. Did the Comtesse feel worse? Should they send again for -Noirmont? The maid had gone to fetch Madame Turgis, who would be here -no doubt immediately. Would not Madame la Comtesse take some extra -nourishment? Some soup? - -Then he retired as gracefully as he had entered, and the Comtesse de -Béarn waited. At one o’clock the maid came back. Madame Turgis was from -home, but the message had been left, asking her to call at once on her -return. - -“Ah, _mon Dieu, mon Dieu_!” cried the old woman recognizing at once -that she had been tricked again, and that the maid had doubtless never -left the house, seeing also her great mistake in not having used -bribery. “And here am I lying in pain, and perhaps before she comes I -may be gone, and my dying bequests will never be known. But wait.” - -She took something from under her pillow. It was a handkerchief tightly -rolled up. She unrolled the handkerchief carefully. There were half a -dozen gold coins in it—_louis d’or_, stamped with the stately profile -of the fourteenth Louis. It was part of the hoard which she kept at the -Château de Béarn, on which she had drawn for travelling contingencies. -Taking a louis, and folding up the rest, she held it out between finger -and thumb. - -“For you,” said she. - -The maid advanced to take the coin. - -“When Madame Turgis arrives,” finished the old woman, with a snap, -withdrawing the coin and hiding her hand under the bed-clothes. “So -go now, like a good girl, or find some messenger to go for you. Tell -Madame Turgis that the Comtesse de Béarn has need for her at once. Then -the louis will be yours to do what you like with, eh? ’Tis not often -a louis is earned so cheap. You’ll have a young man of your own, and -nothing holds ’em like a bit of fine dress; and I’ll look among my -things and see if I can’t find you a bit of lace, or a trinket to put -on top of the louis. And—put your pretty ear down to me—_don’t let -anyone know I’ve sent to Madame Turgis. It’s a secret between us about -some property in the country._ You understand me?” - -Jehanneton, the maid, assented, and left the room, nodding her head, to -acquaint immediately the powers below of this attempt at bribery and -corruption. - -At five o’clock a new maid arrived with a tray containing soup and -minced chicken. - -“What has become of Jehanneton?” asked the old woman. - -“Jehanneton went out, and has not yet come back,” replied the other. “I -do not know where she has gone to. Does Madame feel better?” - -The invalid drank her soup and ate her chicken. She had been duped -again, and she knew it. Her only consolation was the fact that she had -not parted with the louis. - -At six she rang for a light. The maid who answered the summons not only -brought a lamp, but put a lighted taper to all the candles about the -dressing-table. - -“_Ma foi_!” cried the Comtesse. “I did not tell you to light those.” - -“It is by my mistress’s orders,” replied the maid, lighting, as she -spoke, several more candles that stood on the bureau, till the room had -almost the appearance of a _chapelle ardente_—an appearance that was -helped out by the corpse-like figure on the bed. Then the maid went -out. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE ARTIST - - -Five minutes later a knock came to the door, and a man entered. It was -Ferminard. He was carrying the stiff brocade dress of Madame de Béarn -over his left arm. In his right hand he carried a wig-block, on which -was a wig such as then was worn by the elderly women of the Court. - -The thing carried by Ferminard was less a wig than a structure of hair, -a prefiguration of those towers and bastions with which the ladies of -the sixteenth Louis’ reign adorned their heads. Hideous bastilles, -which one would fancy did not require arming with guns to frighten Love -from making any attack on the wearers. - -Under his right arm Ferminard also carried a rolled-up parcel. He made -a bow to the occupant of the bed as he entered, and then advanced -straight to the dressing-table, where he deposited the wig-block and -the parcel, whilst the door closed, drawn to by someone in the corridor -outside. - -“My hair! My dress! And, _mon Dieu_! A man in the room with me!” cried -the Comtesse, seizing the bell on the table beside her and ringing it. -“And the door shut! Monsieur, open that door, or I will cry for help.” - -“Madame,” said Ferminard, placing the dress on a chair, “we are both -of an age. Calm yourself, and regard me as though I were not here. -Besides, I am not a man; I am an artist, and, so far from molesting -you, I have come to pay you the greatest compliment in my power by -producing your portrait.” - -He drew a chair to the dressing-table, and proceeded to unroll the -bundle, which contained bottles of pigment, some brushes and a host -of other materials. The old woman on the bed lay watching him like -a mesmerized fowl. Her portrait, at her time of life, and in her -condition! What trick was this of the Dubarrys? She was soon to learn. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE PRESENTATION - - -The Versailles of to-day stands alone in desolation among all -the other buildings left to us by the past. That vast courtyard -through whose gates the dusty and travel-stained _berlines_ of the -ambassadors used to pass; those thousand windows, vacant and cleaned -by the municipality; those fountains and terraces, and statues and -vistas—across all these lies written the word which is at once their -motto and explanation: _Fuimus_—we have been. - -It is the palace of echoes. - -But it is more than this. It is France herself. Not the France of -to-day—banker and bourgeois-ridden; nor the France of the Second -Empire—vulgar and painted; nor the Napoleonic France—half a brothel, -half a barrack. Across all these and the fumes of the Revolution, -Versailles calls to us: “I am France. Before I was built I was born -in the dreams of the Gallic people. I am the concretion in stone of -all the opulence and splendour and licence of mind which found a -focus in the reign of Le Roi Soleil; the Hôtel St. Pol and the Logis -d’Angoulême foreshadowed me, and Chambord and all those châteaux that -mirror themselves in the Loire. I am the wealth of Jacques Cœur, -the bravery of Richelieu and Turenne, the laughter of Rabelais, the -songs of Villon, the beauty of Marion de l’Orme, the licentiousness of -Montpensier, the arrogance of Fouquet. Of all that splendour I remain, -an echo and a dream.” - -But to-night, in the year of our Lord 1770, Versailles, living and -splendid, a galaxy of lights that might have been seen from leagues -away, the huge park filled with the sound of the wind in the trees and -the waters of the fountains, the great courtyard ablaze with lamps -and torches, and coloured with the uniforms of the Guards and the -Swiss—to-night Versailles was drawing towards herself the whole world -in the form of the ambassadors of Europe, the whole Court of France, -and a majority of the population of Paris. - -The Place d’Armes was thronged, and the Paris road, a league from the -gates; bourgeois and beggar, the hungry and well-fed, the maimed, -the halt and the blind, apprentice and shop-girl—all were there, a -seething mass attracted to the festivity as moths are attracted by a -lamp, and all filled with one idea: the Dubarry. - -The news of the friction at Court had gone amongst the people. It -was said that the Dubarry had been forbidden at the last moment to -attend; that the presentation had been cancelled, that she was ill, -that the Vicomte Jean had insulted M. le Duc de Choiseul, that the -arrival of the Dauphiness had been hurried, and that she was already at -Versailles, and that she had refused to see the favourite. All of which -statements, and a hundred others more wild and improbable, were bandied -about during the glorious excitement to be got by watching the blazing -windows of the palace, the uniformed figures of the Guards, and the -steady stream of carriages coming from the direction of Paris. - -Rochefort arrived at nine o’clock—that is to say, an hour before the -time of the ceremony; his carriage immediately followed that of the -Duc de Richelieu. The entrance-hall was crowded, and the Escalier des -Ambassadeurs thronged. This great staircase, now removed, led by a -broad, unbalustraded flight of eleven marble steps to a landing where, -beneath the bust of Louis XV., a fountain played, gushing its waters -into a broad basin supported by tritons, dolphins and sea-nymphs; from -here a balustraded staircase swept up to right and left, and here, -just by the fountain, Rochefort found himself cheek by jowl with de -Sartines, who had arrived just before M. de Richelieu. - -“Ah!” said de Sartines, recognizing the other, “and when did you -arrive?” - -“Why, it seems to me an hour ago,” replied the other, “judging by -the time I have been getting thus far; to be more precise, I came -immediately after M. de Richelieu. And how are your dear thieves and -people getting on? I should imagine they are mostly at Versailles -to-night, to judge by the crowds on the Paris road.” - -“Oh,” replied de Sartines, “I daresay there are enough of them left in -Paris to keep my agents busy. And how did you like Lavenne?” - -“He was charming. If all your thief-catchers were such perfect -gentlemen, I would pray God to turn a few of our gentlemen into -thief-catchers. But he was not so charming as your dramatist, Monsieur -Ferminard, the gentleman who writes plays with his feet, it seems to -me.” - -Sartines nudged him to keep silence. They had reached the corridor -leading to the Hall of Mirrors, and here the Minister of Police drew -his companion into an alcove. - -“Do not mention the name Ferminard here; the walls have ears and -the statues have tongues. Forget it, my dear Rochefort. Remember M. -d’Ombreval’s maxim: ‘Forget so that you may not be forgotten.’” - -“In other words, that you may not be put in the Bastille?” - -“Precisely.” - -“Then I will forget the name Ferminard. But, before Heaven, I will -never be able to forget the person. He amused me vastly. And now, my -dear Sartines, without mentioning names, how are things going?” - -“What things?” - -“Why, the presentation.” - -“Admirably.” - -“Then the lady with the scalded leg——” - -“Hush!” - -“There is no one near, and, besides, I was only inquiring after her -health.” - -“Well, her health is still bad.” - -“Will she be here to-night?” - -“You will see. Ask me no more about her. Besides, I have something else -to talk of. Your man, whom you put out of action the night before last, -has been found.” - -“The man I killed?” - -“Yes.” - -“Well,” said Rochefort, laughing, “I don’t envy the finder—that is to -say, if he has any sense of beauty.” - -“Rochefort,” said de Sartines, “it would not trouble me a _dernier_ -were forty like him found every morning in the streets of Paris; but, -in this case, you have to be on your guard, for he was found, not by -one of my agents, but by one of Choiseul’s. The news came to me through -Choiseul.” - -“Ah!” said Rochefort, becoming serious. “Is that so?” - -“With a request that I should investigate the matter. If that were all -it would be nothing; the danger to you is that Choiseul, no doubt, has -started investigating the matter for himself.” - -Sartines, having delivered himself of this warning, turned to the Comte -d’Egmont, who was passing, and walked off with him, leaving Rochefort -to digest his words. - -Rochefort for a moment was depressed; he did not like the idea of this -dead man turning up, arm-in-arm, so to speak, with Choiseul. He had no -remorse at all about the ruffian, but he had a lively feeling that, -should Choiseul discover the truth, he would avenge the death of this -villain, deserved even though it was. Then he put the matter from his -mind, and passed with the throng through the Hall of Mirrors towards -the _salon_, where the presentations took place. - -On the way he passed Camus, who, with his wife, was speaking to the -Comte d’Harcourt. Madame Camus was rather plain, older than her -husband, and afflicted with a slight limp—an impediment in her walk, -to quote M. de Richelieu. Camus’ marriage with this woman was a -mystery. She was the third daughter of the Comte de Grigny, who owned a -château in Touraine, and little else, if we except numerous debts. She -was plain, without dowry, and had a limp. It may have been the comment -of Froissart on women so affected, or that her plainness appealed to -him in some curious way; the fact remained that Camus had married her, -and—so people said—was heartily sick of his bargain. - -The Hall of Mirrors gave one eyes at the back of one’s head; and -Camus, though his back was half-turned to Rochefort, saw his mirrored -reflection approach and pass; but he did not take the slightest notice -of his enemy, continuing his conversation, whilst Rochefort passed on -towards the wide-open door of the Salon of Presentations. - -Rochefort was one of those implacable men who never apologize, even -if they are in the wrong. Camus had been his friend, or, at least, a -very close acquaintance, and he had struck Camus in the face. If Camus -did not choose to wipe out the insult it was no affair of Rochefort’s. -He was ready to fight. He was not angry now with Camus; his attitude -of mind was entirely one of contempt, and he passed on haughtily to -the Hall of Presentations, where he soon found enough to distract his -attention from personal matters. - -The Hall of Presentations—vast, lit by a thousand lights—gave to the -eye a picture of magnificence and splendour sufficient to quell even -the most daring imagination. The Escalier des Ambassadeurs had been -thronged, the corridors and the Hall of Mirrors crowded; but here, so -wide was the floor, so lofty the painted ceiling, that the idea “crowd” -vanished, or at least became subordinated to the idea of magnificence. -One would not dream of associating the word “solemnity” with the -word “butterfly”; yet, could one see the congregation of a million -butterflies, variegated and gorgeous, drawn from all quarters of the -earth towards one great festival, the word “solemnity” on the lips of -the gazer might not be out of place. - -So, to-night, at Versailles, all these butterflies of the social world -of France—coloured, jewelled, beautiful—filling the vast Salon of -Presentations with a moving picture, brilliant as a painting by Diaz, -all these men and women, individually insignificant, produced by their -setting and congregation that effect of solemnity which Versailles -alone could produce from the frivolous. - -That was, in fact, the calculated effect of Versailles; to give the -_fainéant_ the value of the strenuous, the trivial the virtue of the -vital; to give great echoes to the sound of a name, to raise the usher -on the shoulders of the Suisse, the grand master of the ceremonies on -the shoulders of the usher, the noble on the shoulders of the grand -master of the ceremonies, and the King on the shoulders of the noble. -A towering structure, as absurd, when viewed philosophically, as a -pyramid of satin-breeched monkeys, but beautiful, gorgeous, solemn -under the alchemy of Versailles. - -The great clock of the Hall of Presentations pointed to ten minutes to -ten. The King had not appeared yet, nor would he do so till the stroke -of the hour. - -The presentation was fixed for ten. Rochefort knew everybody, and the -man who knows everybody knows nobody. That was Rochefort’s position -at the Court of Versailles; he belonged to no faction, and so had no -especial enemies—or friends. He did not fear enemies, nor did he -want friends. Outside the Court, in Paris, he had several trusty ones -who would have let themselves be cut in pieces for him; they were -sufficient for him, for it was a maxim of his life that out of all -the people a man knows, he will be lucky if he numbers two who are -disinterested. He did not invent this maxim. Experience had taught it -to him. - -He passed now from group to group, nodding to this person and talking -to that; and everywhere he found an air of inattention, an atmosphere -of restlessness, such as may be noticed among people who are awaiting -some momentous decision. - -They were, in fact, awaiting the decision of Fate as to the -presentation of the Dubarry. Among the majority of the courtiers -nothing was definitely known, but a great deal was suspected. Rumours -had gone about that it was now absolutely certain that the presentation -would not take place, and all these rumours had come, funnily enough, -not from the Choiseuls, but from the Vicomte Jean. The Choiseul -faction, or rather the head centre of it, said nothing; for them the -thing was assured. They had robbed the Comtesse, not only of her dress, -her coiffeur and her carriage, but of her sponsor. - -Camus, who had stolen the carriage, had followed Rochefort into the -Hall of Presentations, and was now speaking to Coigny, Choiseul’s -right-hand man. Coigny, who when he saw Camus had experienced a shock -of surprise at seeing him so early, interrupted him. - -“The carriage?” - -“It is quite safe,” replied Camus. “The deed is accomplished.” - -“But how are you here so soon?” - -“Oh, _ma foi_!” said Camus, “am I a tortoise? Having placed the thing -in the coach-house of a well-trusted friend, I went home, dressed, and -came on here.” - -“Ah, but suppose this well-trusted friend of yours were to betray you -at the last moment, harness his horses to the precious carriage, and -drive it to the Rue de Valois?” - -Camus laughed. “Can you drive a carriage without wheels? It took -seventeen minutes only to remove the wheels and make firewood of -them with a sharp axe, to knock the windows to pieces, strip out the -linings, and rip to pieces the cushions. If the Dubarry drives to -Versailles in that carriage—well, my friend, all I can say is, the -vehicle will match her reputation.” - -“Thanks!” said Coigny. “You have worked well, and you have Choiseul’s -thanks.” He moved away, drawn by the sight of another of his -confederates who had just appeared. - -It was the Marquis Monpavon, twenty years of age, cool, insolent, a -bully and scamp of the first water, with a smooth, puerile, egg-shaped -face that made respectable fingers itch to smack it. - -“The dressmaker?” said Coigny. - -“She was charming,” replied Monpavon. “I have quite lost my heart to -her. I have made an arrangement to meet her to-morrow evening at the -corner of the Rue Picpus.” - -“But the dress?” - -“What dress?” - -“The Dubarry’s! Good God! You did not forget about the dress?” - -“No,” replied Monpavon. “I did not forget about the dress. The next -time you see that dress will be on a mermaid in the Morgue. It is now -in the Seine. What’s more, it is in a sack, which also encloses a few -stones.” - -“Thanks, Monpavon. I will tell Choiseul.” He hurried away, attracted -by another new-comer. This time it was Monsieur d’Estouteville, an -exquisite, who seemed to have no bones, so indolently did he carry -himself. - -“The coiffeur?” asked Coigny, in a low voice, as he ranged alongside of -this person. “What have you done with him?” - -“He is safe,” replied d’Estouteville. - -“Where?” - -“I don’t know.” - -“But, heavens! Did you not undertake to have him guarded? Yet you do -not know where he is?” - -“I only know that he is in Paris somewhere. My dear Coigny, I could -have given him no better guardian than the guardian he has chosen for -himself—drink.” - -“Oh, you made him drunk!” - -“Oh, no. It was a happy accident. It was this way. I had him brought to -my house on an urgent summons. He was shown into a room where some wine -was set out, quite by accident, and when I came to interview him with a -purse full of gold for his seduction, I found he had been at the wine. -He was talkative and flushed. Now, said I to myself, why should I pay -five thousand francs for what I can obtain for a bottle of wine or two? -So I ordered up some Rousillon, and made him drunk.” - -“Ah!” - -“He quite forgot that he was a hairdresser at the end of the first -bottle; before he had finished the second, he grew quarrelsome, and -would have drawn his sword.[A] Then he fell asleep, and my servants -took him and laid him out by the wall that borders the Cemetery of the -Innocents. It was then half-past six o’clock. No man, not even his -Majesty’s physician, could turn him into a hairdresser again before -to-morrow morning. So, you see, by a stroke of luck I saved five -thousand francs, and avoided the implication in this affair that a -bribe given to a barber might have occasioned all of us.” - -“Good!” said Coigny. He knew quite well that the apparently boneless -d’Estouteville was one of the elect of chicanery, was as good a -swordsman almost as Beauregard, and could outslang a fish-fag on the -Petit Pont were he called to the test; but he had not expected such -a brilliant piece of work as this. “Good. I will tell Choiseul that -story. By the way, you are expected in his private apartments after -this affair is over. You will not find him ungenerous, I think. Tell -Monpavon and the others that they are expected also.” - -He walked away to where the Duc de Choiseul was standing, talking -to some gentleman. It was now after ten, and the King had not yet -appeared, though the hour for the presentation had arrived. He drew the -Minister aside, and informed him of the reports he had just received -from d’Estouteville, Monpavon and Camus; and Choiseul was in the act -of congratulating him when the whole brilliant assemblage turned as if -touched by a magician’s wand; conversation died away, and silence fell -upon the Chamber of Presentations. - -The King had entered by the door leading from his apartments. He -wore the Order of the Golden Fleece. Glancing from right to left, he -advanced, followed by his suite, till, seeing Choiseul, he paused -whilst the Minister advanced, bowing before him. - -Choiseul saw that his Majesty was in a temper. He knew quite well that -the King had made his appearance thus late, not because of laziness or -indifference, but simply because he had been waiting the arrival of -Madame Dubarry. The King, in fact, had been kept informed of all the -guests who had arrived. Ten o’clock was the hour for the presentation, -and now at a quarter past ten, his Majesty, never patient of delay, had -left his apartments to seek the truth for himself. - -“The Comtesse is late, Choiseul,” said the King. - -“The journey from Paris is a long one, Sire,” replied the Minister, -“and some delay might have occurred on the way.” - -“Or some accident,” said the King. “Well, Choiseul, should some -accident have happened to the poor Comtesse upon the road, we shall -inquire into the cause of it, and I shall place the matter in your -hands to find out and to punish, if necessary. But should the accident -have happened in Paris, our Minister of Police will take the matter -in his hands. Ah, there is de Sartines. Sartines, it seems that the -Comtesse is late.” - -“Yes, Sire,” replied the Minister of Police. “The carriage may have -been delayed by the crowds that throng the Paris roads. But she will -arrive in safety, if I am not much mistaken, before the half-hour has -struck.” - -Choiseul smiled inwardly, and those members of the Choiseul faction who -were within earshot of this conversation glanced at one another. The -half-hour struck, and Choiseul, freed from his Majesty, who had passed -on, turned to de Sartines. - -“Well, monsieur,” said Choiseul, “it seems that the clock has declared -you a false prophet.” - -“Monsieur,” replied de Sartines, looking at his watch, “the clock of -the Chamber of Presentations, as you ought very well to know, is always -kept five minutes in advance of the hour, by an order given by his -late Majesty to Noirmont, the keeper of the clocks of the Palace of -Versailles. It is now twenty-four and a half minutes past ten. Ah! what -is this?” - -A hush had fallen on the assembly; around the door leading to the -corridor of entrance the people had drawn back as the waves of the Red -Sea drew back before the rod of Moses. - -The usher had appeared. He stood rigid as a statue, his profile to the -room, then turning and fronting the great assembly and the lake of -parquet floor where his Majesty stood in sudden and splendid isolation, -he grounded the butt of his wand, and announced to the grand master of -the ceremonies: - -“The Comtesse Dubarry. The Comtesse de Béarn.” - -Never had Madame Dubarry looked more beautiful than now, as she -advanced, led by this lady of the old _régime_—stiff, as though -awakened from some tomb of the past; proud, as though she carried with -her the memory of the Austrian; remote from the present day as the wars -of the Fronde and the beauty of Madame de Chevreuse. It was the youth -and age of France; and de Sartines, gazing at Madame de Béarn as one -gazes at a great actor, murmured to Himself: - -“What a masterpiece!” - - -FOOTNOTE - -[A] Hairdressers alone amongst tradesmen were permitted to wear swords. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE REWARD - - -The presentation was over. The Choiseuls were defeated. Madame Dubarry -was passing hither and thither, speaking to this one and that, and -poisoning her enemies with her sweetest smiles. The King was delighted; -and Choiseul, devouring his own heart, was kissing the favourite’s -hand. Smiles, smiles everywhere, and poisonous hatred so wonderfully -masked that the washerwoman to the Duc d’Aiguillon might have thought -herself the best-loved woman in France. - -And Madame de Béarn? Madame de Béarn had vanished. Sartines had -enveloped her in a cloud, and escorted her to her carriage; she had -injured her leg that day, and required rest; she had braved pain and -discomfort to obey the wish of his Majesty. - -The Dubarry had triumphed, and they were paying their court to her. -Rochefort, who had been following the whole proceedings of the evening -with an interest which he had rarely experienced before in his life, -approached de Sartines, who had just returned from escorting Madame -de Béarn to her carriage; with that lightness of heart with which men -sometimes approach their fate, he drew the Minister of Police a bit to -one side. - -“And Ferminard?” said he. - -“Pardon me,” said de Sartines, “I do not understand your meaning. What -about Ferminard?” - -“Oh,” said Rochefort, laughing, “I was only intending to compliment you -on having discovered so consummate an actor.” - -The other said nothing for a moment. Then he said, speaking slowly and -in a voice so low that it was only just audible to his companion: - -“Rochefort, by accident you have been drawn into a little conspiracy of -the Court; by luck you are able to escape from it if you choose to hold -your tongue for ever on what you have seen and heard. You imagine that -Ferminard came here to-night and laid his genius at the feet of Madame -la Comtesse by acting for her the part of Madame de Béarn. All I can -say is, imagine what you please, but say nothing; for, mark you, should -anything of this be spoken of by you, friend though I am to you, my -hand would fall automatically on you, and the future of M. de Rochefort -would be four blank walls.” - -“You threaten?” said Rochefort haughtily. - -“Monsieur, I never threaten; I only advise. You have acted well in this -affair; act still better by forgetting it all. And now that it is over, -I am deputed to hand you your reward.” - -“My reward!” - -Sartines took a little note from his pocket and handed it to Rochefort, -who opened it and read: - - “You will not receive this until and unless all is successful. In - that case I wish to thank you both in my own name and that of the - dear Comtesse. The presentation will be over by eleven, at which - time this note will be handed to you. Should you care to receive - my thanks, you can reach Paris by midnight. I live at No. 9, Rue - St. Dominic, and my door will be opened to you should you knock to - receive my thanks. - - “CAMILLE FONTRAILLES.” - -Rochefort stood for a moment with this note in his hand. She had been -thinking of him; she had guessed his feelings towards her; and she in -her turn loved him! - -He glanced at the clock. It pointed to half-past eleven. A swift horse -would take him in less than an hour to Paris. He turned to the door. - -“Where are you going?” asked Sartines. - -“To Paris, monsieur,” replied Rochefort, with a bow. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE ORDER OF ARREST - - -At a quarter past eleven, that is to say, a quarter of an hour before -Rochefort received the note from Mademoiselle Fontrailles, Choiseul, -who had kissed the hand of the Dubarry, congratulated her on her dress, -compared her to a rose in an epigram that had the appearance of being -absolutely new, and watched her vanishing with his Majesty triumphantly -towards the apartments lately occupied by the Princess Adélaïde, and -now occupied by the favourite—at a quarter past eleven, Choiseul, -furious under his mask of calm, turned towards his own apartments. - -The fixed smile on his face never altered as he bowed to right and -left, and as he passed along through the crowd several members of the -assemblage detached themselves from the mass and fell into his train. - -Choiseul’s apartments in the Palace of Versailles were even more -sumptuous than those relegated to the use of the Dubarry. He passed -from the corridor to the _salon_, which he used for the private -reception of ambassadors, and all that host of people, illustrious and -obscure, which it was the duty of the Minister to receive, in the name -of France. - -This _salon_ was upholstered in amber satin and white and gold, with -a ceiling of yellow roses and joyful cupids. Ablaze with lights, as -now, the place seemed like a great cell, the most gorgeous and the most -brilliantly lit in that great honeycomb, Versailles. - -Choiseul sat down at a table and dashed off a letter which he -addressed, sealed, and sent by a servant to M. de Beautrellis, captain -of the Gardes, for delivery. Then he turned to Coigny who had followed -him. - -“You told the others to come here to-night?” - -“Yes, monsieur; they are even now waiting outside the door.” - -“Well, we will have them in. Coigny, how has this happened?” - -“I don’t know, monsieur, unless it was the devil. Everything was -secure, everything was assured. Madame de Béarn was out of action, and -you know what other measures we took. Yet at the last moment we are -overthrown.” - -“Well,” said Choiseul, “it only remains for us to find out the secret -of our reverse, and the name of the person who has upset our plans. -Call in the others.” - -Coigny went to the side door giving entrance to the apartments, opened -it, and ushered in a number of gentlemen who had been standing outside. -First came Camus, the chief of the executive of the broken-down -conspiracy; after him Monpavon, cool, smug and impudent as ever, and -after him, d’Estouteville, a trifle flushed; after these, the others -who had helped in one way or the other in the great fiasco, as Monpavon -had already named the business. Seven gentlemen in all entered to -receive Choiseul’s felicitations on their failure to outwit a woman, -and Choiseul’s tongue in a matter of this sort was sure. - -“Ah, Monsieur Camus!” said he. “Good evening. Good evening, Monsieur -Monpavon; Monsieur d’Estouteville, good evening. Ah! I see Monsieur -d’Est, Monsieur Beaupré, Monsieur Duras—well, gentlemen, we have not -succeeded in lending as much colour to his Majesty’s presentation -to-night as I might have wished. We have not been very brilliant, -gentlemen. Monsieur Monpavon, I believe you have a very small opinion -of women. Their value, of course, viewed philosophically, is an -academic question; but viewed practically—well, viewed practically, -the brains of those women you despise, Monsieur Monpavon, have -a certain value, though you may not imagine it. Yes, Monsieur -d’Estouteville, the brain of a woman has proved itself a better article -to-night than all the brains in Versailles. Monsieur Camus, what -explanation have you to offer?” - -He expected to see Camus discomfited, but the dark, pitted face of the -Count showed nothing of his feelings. - -“Monsieur,” said Camus, “we have been betrayed.” - -“That is very evident,” said Choiseul. “_Mon Dieu_, Monsieur Camus, -what next will you come here to tell me? That the sun does not shine at -night?” - -“Monsieur,” said Camus, “I have not yet finished. I know the name of -the man who has betrayed us.” - -“Ah, you know his name!” - -“Yes, monsieur.” - -“And this man?” - -“It is the Comte de Rochefort.” - -“Rochefort!” - -“Monsieur, it is Rochefort, and no other. He alone knew of our plan.” - -“Who told him?” - -“I did, monsieur.” - -“You told him?” - -“He was my friend. I reckoned him a man of honour. I swore him to -secrecy.” As he told this lie his hand went to his pocket and produced -a piece of paper. “And entrusted him with the full details of the -business in hand. He refused to assist, we quarrelled. It was just -after we left your ball last night, and we parted in the Rue de -Chevilly. - -“I turned and walked slowly away, intending to return to the Hôtel de -Choiseul and inform you of the matter. Then I altered my mind, as the -idea occurred to me of calling on my friend, the Marquis de Soyecourt, -and I did not want to trouble you at that late hour, engaged as you -were with the duties of hospitality. I came down the street leading -past the Bénédictines de la Ville l’Évêque, and sought the side way to -the Hôtel de Soyecourt that runs between the wall of the Bénédictines -and the wall of the cloister of the Madeleine, forgetting that this -side way is closed by a barrier at night. Before I had reached it a man -came out hurriedly. It was M. Rochefort. - -“He was carrying his sword naked in his hand and wiping it upon a piece -of paper; he cast the paper away, and, sheathing his sword, walked off -hurriedly in the direction of the river. He did not see me, as I had -taken shelter in an alcove. I picked the piece of paper up; then I -glanced down the passage to the Hôtel de Soyecourt, and there, lying by -the barricade, was a man. He was dead, still warm, and he had died from -a sword-thrust through the heart. I thought in him I recognized one -of our agents. I walked away, and in the Rue de la Madeleine I took -counsel with myself, went home, and sent a servant to apprise your -major-domo of the occurrence. To-day I have been so busy ever since six -in the morning that I had no time to trouble in the matter. But those -are the facts, and here is the piece of paper which I picked up. And -see, here are the blood marks.” - -Choiseul took the page of the _ballade_ between finger and thumb; the -marks were plain and bore out Camus’ statement. - -It did not matter to him two buttons whether Camus’ statement were true -or false, as long as his statement about the betrayal was true, and -he knew now that it must be true, for his agents had brought him the -report that the man in the cloak and hat who had left the Dubarrys’ -house the night before had been accompanied by a man like Rochefort, -that they had driven to a house in which Rochefort had apartments, a -report of the whole story which we know. - -And you will observe that, though Rochefort had stamped himself on -the spy’s report in letters of fire, Sartines, the core of the whole -conspiracy, was not even suspected. Sartines had managed to shovel the -whole onus of the business on to the shoulders of Rochefort; he had not -set out wilfully so to do, perhaps—or perhaps he had; at all events, -his success was due entirely to his faultless methods. No one suspected -him, and he had not made an enemy of Choiseul, despite the fact that he -alone had wrecked Choiseul’s most cherished plan. - -Choiseul, certain that Rochefort had been the means of his defeat, -turned suddenly and faced the group of gentlemen standing before him. - -“M. Camus, M. de Monpavon, M. d’Estouteville,” cried he, “I commission -you. M. de Rochefort has not yet left the palace. Seize him and bring -him here. If he has left the palace, pursue him and bring him here. I -place the Gardes, and the Suisses and the police of M. Sartines at your -disposal.” - -He turned rapidly to a writing-table, sat down, and dashed off three -warrants in the following terms: - - “URGENCY. - - “The bearer is empowered to seize and arrest the person of Charles - Eugène Montargis, Comte de Rochefort, and to call on all French - citizens to assist in such arrest. - - “Signed, DE CHOISEUL, - “Minister.” - -He sanded each paper when written and passed it over his shoulder -to the hands waiting to receive it. “If possible,” said he, “make -the arrest yourselves, without the help of Sartines’ men. You are my -accredited agents.” - -When the three gentlemen had each received his commission and warrant -they turned, led by Camus, and left the room swiftly and without a -word. They entered the Chamber of Presentations, divided, passed -through the room from door to door, through the thinning crowd, and -drew it blank. Rochefort had left. The great clock of the chamber -pointed to seven minutes past the half-hour. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -FLIGHT - - -When Rochefort took his leave of Sartines and left the Chamber of -Presentations, he made full speed for the corridor leading to the -Escalier des Ambassadeurs, passed down the great staircase rapidly, -pushed his way through the crowd thronging the hall, found Jaquin, the -usher, on duty, and seizing him: - -“Where is Monsieur Bertrand?” asked Rochefort. - -“He is, no doubt, in the Cabinet of the Equipages, monsieur,” replied -the usher. - -“Good,” said Rochefort. - -His carriage was waiting in the courtyard, but a carriage was too slow -for his present purpose. He wanted a horse, and a swift horse, for the -journey to Paris—wings, if possible, failing them, the swiftest horse -in his Majesty’s stables. - -Bertrand was the keeper of his Majesty’s horses, and Rochefort’s -friend. The Cabinet of the Equipages was a moderately sized apartment. -Here the King arranged each day what horses, what carriages and -attendants he would require, and here Rochefort found his friend, deep -in accounts and reports. - -“My dear Bertrand,” said the Comte, “you see a man in a most desperate -hurry. I must get to Paris at once. My carriage is too slow, and I -have come to beg or steal a horse.” - -Bertrand threw up his hands. - -“Impossible! I have already been called to account for lending horses -to my friends in a hurry. Ask me anything else, my dear Rochefort—my -purse, my life, my heart—but a horse, no, a thousand times, no.” - -“Ah, well,” said Rochefort, “I must tell a lie, and you will know the -desperate urgency of my business from the fact that it makes me lie to -you. Well, then, I come from de Sartines with an order of urgency. I am -commanded to ask for your swiftest horse on a matter of State business.” - -“So be it,” said Bertrand. “I cannot resist that order, and you must -settle with Sartines.” He scribbled some words on a piece of paper, -and, calling an attendant, gave it to him. - -“The horse will be in the courtyard in a few minutes,” said Bertrand. -“Well, I am sure to be interrogated over this, and M. de Sartines will -give you the lie. You have weighed all that?” - -“Sartines will support me,” said Rochefort. “We are very good friends; -you need fear nothing. And now, adieu! And thank you for your good -offices in this matter.” - -He bade good-bye to Bertrand and returned through the still crowded -hall to the door that gave exit from the palace. - -Carriage after carriage was leaving, and the courtyard, as Rochefort -came out, was ablaze with light. Burning with impatience, Rochefort -watched the endless stream of carriages, the servants, and the guards, -till, catching sight of a groom in the royal livery, leading a horse -by the bridle, he was about to descend the steps when a hand fell -upon his shoulder. He turned and found himself face to face with -Camus. Behind Camus appeared the egg-shaped face of Monpavon—a man he -hated—and beside Monpavon the boneless form of d’Estouteville. - -“Monsieur,” said Rochefort, “you have taken a strange liberty with me.” - -“Monsieur,” replied Camus, “I have come to take your freedom.” - -He handed Rochefort the warrant of Choiseul. Rochefort read it by the -light of the doorway, comprehended instantly the desperate seriousness -of his position and the danger of resistance—besides the bad policy. - -But M. de Rochefort was going to Paris, and policy, and danger, and -even Choiseul himself, would not interfere with his purpose. He handed -the paper back to Camus with a smile. - -“Present it to-morrow at my apartments in Paris, Monsieur Camus. I -shall be there at noon. If I am late, my servants will entertain you -till my return. _Au revoir._” - -He descended a step, and Camus, putting out a hand to seize him, -received a blow on the belt that felled him as effectually as a blow -on the head would have done. Next moment, Rochefort, dipping under the -horses’ heads of the carriage that had just stopped to take up, reached -the groom in royal livery and the horse which he was leading, seized -the bridle, mounted, and plunged his spurless heels into its flanks. - -Valmajour, for so was the big roan horse named, was not of a temper -to stand treatment like this without marking his resentment of it. He -bucked, as much as a French horse can, filled the yard with the sound -of his hoofs on the great cobble-stones; then he came to hand and -struck for the gate. - -But Rochefort had reckoned without Monpavon and d’Estouteville. They -had raised the hue and cry, the lackeys and soldiers had taken it up. -Twenty voices were crying, “Bar the gate!” and as Rochefort approached -the great gateway, he saw the Suisses crossing their pikes before the -gateway, pike-head across pike-head at a level four feet from the -ground. Valmajour checked slightly at the pull of the bridle, rose to -the touch of Rochefort’s heel, and passed over the crossed pikes like a -bird. A shout rose from the on-lookers as horse and rider disappeared -from the zone of torchlight at the gate into the blacknesses beyond, -and on the shout and like the materialized fury of it, a horse and -rider shot out across the courtyard in pursuit. - -It was d’Estouteville. That limp and enigmatic personage had, alone, -perceived, standing amongst the equipages, the horse of M. de -Beautrellis, captain of the Gardes; a groom was holding it for the -gallant captain, who had entered the palace on some urgent business. -D’Estouteville had seized the horse, mounted, and was now in pursuit. -He knew Rochefort perfectly, and that Rochefort, in his present mood, -would not be taken without a battle to the death. This, however, did -not check him in the least; rather, perhaps, it was the mainspring of -his suddenly found energy. - -The Suisses, recognizing a pursuer, and in a pursuer authority, did not -attempt to check him, and next moment he too had passed the zone of -torchlight and was swallowed up by the darkness beyond. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -A DUEL OF WITS - - -Clouds were drifting across the moon’s face, casting alternately light -and shadow on the country; the people, attracted by the fête at the -palace, had long vanished. The road was clear, and Rochefort gave free -rein to Valmajour. - -For two miles or so he kept at full speed; then he reined in, leaped -from the saddle, eased the girths a bit, and stood for a moment gazing -backwards along the road, and listening and watching to see if he were -pursued. - -As he listened, he heard on the breeze a faint and rhythmical sound; -it was the great clock of Versailles striking midnight. It passed, and -then in the silence of the night his quick ear caught another sound, -also rhythmical, but continuous. It was the sound of a horse at full -gallop. He was pursued. - -Even as he listened and looked, the shadow of a cloud drew off, leaving -to view the distant figure of a horseman and his horse, as though it -had dropped them on the road. He tightened the girths and remounted, -only to discover the tragic fact that Valmajour, the brave Valmajour, -was lame. - -Now Rochefort was a man to whom the riding of a lame horse brought more -suffering than to the horse itself. It was clearly impossible to urge -Valmajour into any pace, but there was a good horse behind him to be -had for the taking. He turned Valmajour’s head and advanced to battle. - -Instantly his quick eye recognized d’Estouteville, who, advancing -at a gallop, was fully exposed to view by the moonlight now strong -on the road, and instantly his quick mind changed its plan. He was -only too eager for a fight, but what he wanted even more was a horse. -D’Estouteville was a good swordsman, and might place him, by chance, -_hors de combat_, and this chance did not suit him. For M. de Rochefort -was going to Paris, and he had sworn to himself that nothing should -stop him. - -When d’Estouteville was only a hundred yards away, Rochefort drew rein, -leaped from his horse and ran away. He struck across a fence and across -some park-land lying on the right of the road, and d’Estouteville, -scarcely believing his eyes at the sight of his cowardice, flung -himself from the saddle, left the two horses to fraternize, and gave -chase. - -Rochefort was striking across the grass towards some trees. One of -the swiftest runners in France, he now seemed broken down and winded. -D’Estouteville overhauled him rapidly as he ran, making for a small -clump of trees standing in the middle of the park-land. He doubled -round this clump, d’Estouteville’s hand nearly on his shoulder, and -then, having turned and having the road again for his goal, a miracle -happened. - -The tired and broken-down runner became endowed with the swiftness of -a hare; d’Estouteville, furious and hopelessly outpaced, followed, -cursing no less deeply because he had no breath to curse with. On the -road Rochefort, with a good thirty yards between him and his pursuer, -seized the bridle of d’Estouteville’s horse, which was quietly cropping -the grass at the road edge, mounted, and, waving his hand to the -emissary of de Choiseul, struck off for Paris. - -D’Estouteville, still perfectly sure of his prey, mounted Valmajour and -turned in pursuit. Then he found out the truth. Rochefort had exchanged -a broken-down horse for a sound one; his flight had not been dictated -by cowardice but by astuteness, and the fooled one in his fury would -have driven his sword through the heart of Valmajour had not Valmajour -been the King’s horse and under royal protection. - - - - -BOOK II - - - - -CHAPTER I - -A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT - - -The horse Rochefort had captured was a powerful roan, fully caparisoned -after the fashion of the officers’ horses of the cavalry, with pistols -in the holsters and a saddle-bag for despatches. - -Having ridden half a league at full gallop, Rochefort drew rein and -glanced back. He was no longer pursued. He hugged himself at the -thought of d’Estouteville’s position. D’Estouteville would have to -return to Versailles, on a lame horse, and with what explanation? Were -he to tell people that Rochefort had run away from him, he would be -laughed at, for Rochefort’s reputation for courage was too well founded -to be shaken by a tale like that. - -Then as Rochefort proceeded swiftly on his way, the saddle-bag -attracted him; he was at open war with the Choiseul faction; Choiseul -was in power, the Gardes were the servants of Choiseul, and the horse -belonged to an officer in the Gardes. It and its trappings were loot, -and to examine his loot he opened the saddle-bag as he rode, plunged -in his hand, and found nothing but a letter. A large, official letter, -sealed with a red seal and addressed in a big firm hand to - - “Mademoiselle La Bruyère, - “In the Suite of Her Royal Highness - “At Compiègne. - - “To be left with Madame de La Motte.” - -This was the letter which we saw Choiseul writing. - -“Oh, ho!” cried Rochefort, “M. de Choiseul writing to a young lady, -and that young lady in the suite of the Dauphiness. Well, I have no -quarrel with Choiseul’s private affairs and the letter shall go to its -destination or be returned to him—but first, let me get to Paris.” - -He returned the letter to its place, closed the saddle-bag and urged -the horse into a canter. - -He did not know that Choiseul had specially commissioned M. de -Beautrellis to take this letter, written immediately after the -presentation, to its destination, nor the special urgency and secrecy -necessary to the business, and with which Choiseul had impressed the -servant. Nor would he have had time to think of these things had he -known, for he was now catching up with the crowd of Parisians who had -returned on foot from Versailles, and his eyes and ears and tongue were -fully occupied in avoiding stragglers and warning them out of his way. - -At the Octroi of Paris he was stopped by the soldiers for a moment, -but he had no difficulty in passing them, despite the fact that he was -in full court dress, without spurs, and riding a guard’s horse. He was -M. de Rochefort, known to all of them, and this was doubtless one of -his many freaks. Then, with the streets of Paris before him, he struck -straight for his home in the Rue de Longueville. - -Burning as he was to keep his appointment, he knew the vital -necessity of money and a change of clothes. Though he had outwitted -d’Estouteville, he was still pursued. Choiseul would ransack Paris -for him, and failing to find him there—France. He guessed Camus’s -part in the business, he guessed that his action in killing Choiseul’s -villainous agent had been traced to him, and worse than that, he -guessed that the part he had played in disclosing the plan which Camus -had put before him to Madame Dubarry was now perfectly well known to -Choiseul. - -Choiseul would never forgive him for that. - -It was absolutely necessary for him to leave France for a time till -things blew over, or Choiseul was out of power. Of course in a just -age, he might have stood up to the business of the killing, called -Javotte as a witness to the facts of the case, and received the thanks -of society, not its condemnation; but in the age of the _Lettre de -Cachet_ and of Power without mercy, flight was the only safe course, -and this child of his age knew his age, and none better. - -It was two o’clock when he reached the Rue de la Harpe, adjoining the -Rue de Longueville. Here he left the horse tied to a post for anyone -to find who might, and taking the letter from his saddle-bag, repaired -to his apartments. He let himself in with his private key, and without -disturbing his valet changed his clothes, took all the money he could -find, some three thousand francs in gold, tore up and burned a few -letters and left the house, closing the door gently behind him. - -A nice position, truly, for the man who had sworn never to touch -politics, alone in the streets of Paris at half-past two in the -morning, with only a few thousand francs in his possession and the -whole of France at his heels. - -But Rochefort, now that he was in the midst of the storm he had always -avoided, did not stop to think of the fury of the wind. So far from -cursing his folly and his position, he found some satisfaction in it. -It seemed to him that he had never lived so vividly before. - -It was only a few minutes’ walk from the Rue de Longueville to the -Rue St. Dominic, where Mademoiselle Fontrailles lived; one had to go -through the Rue de la Harpe, and as he entered that street he saw the -horse, which he had left tied to a post, being led away by a man. - -“Well, my friend,” said the Count, as he overtook the man, “and where -are you going with that fine horse?” - -“Monsieur,” replied the other, “I found him tied to a post, and -thinking it a pity to leave him there to be misused maybe, or stolen by -the first thief, I am taking him home.” - -“Just so,” replied the Count, taking a louis from his pocket, “and, as -I may be in want of a horse in a few hours, here is a louis for you -if you will take him home, give him a feed, change his saddle and be -with him on the road that leads from the Porte St. Antoine at eleven -o’clock, that is, nine hours from now. Be a quarter of a mile beyond -the gate, and if you will do this, I will pay you ten louis for your -trouble.” - -“Monsieur, I will do it.” - -“Can you obtain a plain saddle in exchange for this one?” - -“I will try, monsieur.” - -“Do not try, simply rip all this stuff off and take the saddle-bag -away, then it will be plain enough, take off the chain bridle and leave -the leather, and remember ten louis for your trouble.” - -He handed the louis to the man, and went on his way. - -It was a good idea, though risky; Rochefort, however, took risks; he -was of the temper of Jean Bart, who, it will be remembered, once reefed -his sails with seaweed, trusting to the wind to blow them loose at the -proper moment. - -In the Rue St. Dominic he paused at the house indicated in the letter. -It was a medium-sized house of good appearance, and all the windows -were in darkness, with the exception of the second window on the first -floor. He stopped and looked up at this window. To knock at the door -would mean rousing the porter. He was quite prepared to do that, but -the lit window fascinated him, something told him that the person he -sought was there. - -He looked about to see if he could find a pebble, but the moon had gone -and the roadway was almost invisible in the darkness; he rubbed the -sole of his boot about on the ground, but could find nothing, so taking -a louis from his pocket and taking careful aim, he flung it up at the -window. - -The casement was open a few inches, and, as luck would have it, the -coin instead of hitting the glass, entered, struck the curtain and fell -on the floor. - -He waited for a moment, and was just on the point of taking another -louis from his pocket, when a shadow appeared on the curtain, the -curtain was drawn aside, and the window pushed open. He could see -the vague outline of a form above the sill, and then came a woman’s -whisper: - -“Who is it?” - -“Rochefort,” came the answer. He dared not say more, fearing that it -might be some servant: then, as the form disappeared with the word, -“Wait,” he knew that all was right. - -He searched for the door, found it, and stood waiting, his heart -beating as it never had beaten before. Choiseul, Camus, his own -position, everything, was forgotten. - -He heard a step in the passage and then the bolts carefully withdrawn; -he could scarcely believe in his luck: Camille Fontrailles, with her -own hand, was opening the door for him, at dead of night, secretively, -and in a way that cast everything to the winds. - -Next moment he was in the hall, holding a warm hand in the darkness, -whilst the other little hand of the woman who had admitted him was -replacing the bolts. - -“Come,” whispered a voice. - -He followed, still holding her hand and led as a blind man is led, up -the stairs, to a landing, to a door. - -The woman pushed the door open, and they entered a room lit by a lamp -and with the remnants of a fire in the grate. - -The light of the lamp struck on the woman’s face. It was Javotte. - -Rochefort dropped her hand, stared round him, and then at the girl who -was standing before him with a smile on her lips. - -Never had Javotte looked prettier. Though a girl of the people, she had -a refinement of her own; compared to Camille, she was the wild violet -compared to the cultivated violet, the essential charm was the same; -but to Rochefort, suddenly disillusioned, she had neither charm nor -grace. - -“You!” said he, drawing back and walking towards the window. - -The smile vanished from her lips, they trembled, and then, just as if -it had started from her lips, a little shiver went all through her. - -In a flash, she understood all; he had not discovered her window by -some miraculous means, he had not come to see her, he did not care for -her. It was her mistress for whom this visit was intended. Ever since -he had kissed her in the corridor of the Hôtel Dubarry, she had dreamed -of him, looked for him, fancied that he would come to seek her. He had -come, but not for her. - -The blow to her love, her pride, and her life was brutal in its -directness, yet she took it standing, and after the first moment almost -without flinching. She had come of a race to whom pride had been -denied, a race accustomed to the _Droit de Seigneur_, the whip of the -noble and the disdain of the aristocrat, yet the woman in her found the -pride that hides suffering, and can find and place its hand even on -disdain. - -“Monsieur,” said Javotte, “I am sorry, but my mistress is from home.” - -Rochefort, standing by the window, had recovered himself. He guessed -quite well that little Javotte had a more than kindly feeling for him, -that at a look or a touch she would be his, body and soul, and that she -had led him upstairs thinking that his visit was to her. But he was -moving under the dominion of a passion that held his mind from Javotte -as steadily as centrifugal force holds the moon from the earth. - -“From home?” said he. “Has she not been here, then, to-night?” - -“Yes, monsieur, she was here till half-past twelve, then she left for -the Rue de Valois with Mademoiselle Chon Dubarry.” - -“Mademoiselle Dubarry was with her here, then?” - -“Yes, monsieur, and they left together.” - -He saw at once that the appointment Camille had given him was no -lover’s tryst—or, at least, a lover’s tryst with a chaperon attached -to it. This pleased him, somehow. Despite the fact that his heart had -leaped in him whilst under the dominion of the thought that Camille had -flung all discretion to the winds, the revelation of the truth that it -was Javotte who was flinging discretion to the winds came to him as a -satisfaction, despite the check to his animal nature. Camille was not -to be conquered as easily as that. - -She had waited for him till half-past twelve, there was some comfort -in that thought; the question now arose as to what he should do. It -was clearly impossible to knock the Dubarrys up at that hour in the -morning. He must wait, and where better than here; he wanted a friend -to talk to, and whom could he find better than Javotte? - -There was a chair by the bed, and he sat down on the chair, and then -what did he do but take Javotte on his knee. - -He told her to come and sit on his knee whilst he explained all his -worries and troubles, and she came and sat on his knee like a child. -She would have resisted him now as a lover, yet there in that bedroom, -in that deserted house, she let him caress her without fear and without -thought. There was something great about Rochefort at times, when he -forgot Rochefort the _flaneur_ and Rochefort the libertine, or perhaps -it would be nearer the mark to say there was nothing little about him, -and nothing base. - -“It is this way, Javotte,” said he. “Monsieur le Duc de Choiseul, of -whom you have no doubt heard, is pursuing me, and I am running away -from Monsieur le Duc de Choiseul, and as I am not used to running -away, I run very badly, but still I do my best. Now, you remember the -other night when those bad men attacked you?—well, when I chased them -away, I followed one of them and he threw a knife at me and I killed -him. He was an agent of Monsieur de Choiseul, who, having discovered -that I killed his agent, would like very much to kill me. He tried to -arrest me at the Palace of Versailles some hours ago, and the agent he -employed was Monsieur Camus, the same man whose face I smacked before -you——” - -“Oh, monsieur,” said Javotte, “that is an evil man; his face, his very -glance, took the life away from me.” - -“Just so,” said Rochefort; “and I struck that evil man in the stomach, -and left him kicking his heels on the steps of his Majesty’s palace, -whilst I made my escape. I got a horse and came to Paris, but I cannot -stay in Paris. To-morrow I am going to the Rue de Valois to keep that -appointment with your mistress, which I failed to keep to-night. Well, -I may be taken prisoner or killed before I reach the Hôtel Dubarry. In -that case, you will tell your mistress all, and that the fault was not -mine, in that I did not arrive here in time. You will be my friend in -this, Javotte?” - -“Yes, monsieur,” replied Javotte, “I will, indeed, be your friend.” - -She who had hoped only to be his lover cast away that hope, or -imagined that she cast away that hope, in taking up the reality of -friendship. - -“I trust you,” he said; “and now to another thing. I have here a letter -belonging to Monsieur le Duc de Choiseul; it is addressed to a lady at -Compiègne, it was in the saddle-bag of the horse which I took to carry -me to Paris, and it must be delivered to the lady it is intended for.” - -He took the letter from his pocket and gave it to Javotte, who had now -risen and was standing before him. - -“You must find someone to take it for me, and that someone will expect -to be paid for his trouble, so here are two louis——” - -“Monsieur,” said Javotte, “I do not need money.” - -Rochefort returned the coins to his pocket and stood up. He had not -offered Javotte money for herself, but he should not have offered it at -all. The brutality that spoils a butterfly’s wing may be a touch that -would not injure a rose-leaf. - -“Nor did I offer it to you,” said he, placing his hand on her shoulder. -“One does not offer money to a friend—or only as a loan—I meant you -to give it to some footman or other as a reward for his services. But -should you ever need a loan, my little Javotte, why, then, Rochefort -will be your banker, offering you his life and his services without -interest. But there is one thing he will never lend you—and can you -guess what that thing is?” - -“No, monsieur.” - -“His friendship—for it is yours, now and always.” - -Javotte bowed her pretty head as if in confirmation and acknowledgment. -Still holding the letter in her hand, she turned it over, glancing now -at the superscription, now at the seals. Then, moving towards the -chair, she sat down. Rochefort watched her, wondering what was in her -mind, and waiting for her to speak. - -“Monsieur,” said Javotte at last, “you ask me to take this letter to -its destination. To do so, I must first read the address, and I find it -is addressed to Mademoiselle La Bruyère. You say Monsieur de Choiseul -is the writer of it. You say Monsieur de Choiseul is pursuing you. -Well, monsieur, is it not possible that, in parting with this letter, -you are parting with a weapon that may be very useful to you?” - -“Oho!” said Rochefort, laughing, amused at Javotte’s seriousness and -her air of subtlety and intrigue, as though some dove were suddenly to -assume the garb of a serpent’s wisdom. “What is this you say?” - -“Simply, monsieur, that Mademoiselle La Bruyère is one of the greatest -enemies of Madame la Comtesse Dubarry. I have heard my mistress say -that she obtained her place in the entourage of the Dauphiness In order -to poison the mind of the Dauphiness against her. Here is Monsieur de -Choiseul writing to Mademoiselle La Bruyère——” - -“Ah!” cried Rochefort, striking himself on the forehead, and speaking -as though oblivious of Javotte’s presence, “I see. Choiseul writes a -despatch to Mademoiselle La Bruyère—and last night of all nights, -immediately after the presentation, to tell her, without doubt, of the -plan and its failure—and the plan was directed against his Majesty as -well as against the Countess. Certainly, that letter may prove a very -terrible weapon against Choiseul.” - -“And you will use it, monsieur?” - -“The letter?” - -“Yes, monsieur, the letter.” - -“I—no, I cannot use it. I do not even know that it would help me. I -may be wrong even in my suspicion. The thing may have no value at all; -how do I know that it is not a love-letter?”—he laughed at the idea of -Love coupled with the idea of Choiseul—“or about some private matter? -No, it is impossible. I cannot open Monsieur de Choiseul’s letter to -see if it concerns me, and even were I to open it, and were I to find -the blackest conspiracy under the handwriting of Choiseul, I could not -use it against him.” - -“Monsieur,” said Javotte, “I am only a poor girl, but I have seen -much in the service of Madame la Comtesse. I have kept my mind about -me, and I have been employed in many things that have taught me many -things. Living at Luciennes and Versailles, I have observed Monsieur -de Choiseul—Look at the affair of yesterday—and there are other -things—— Well, I know that if you were Monsieur de Choiseul, you -would open this letter.” - -Rochefort laughed. - -“You have touched the spot,” said he. “If I were Monsieur de Choiseul, -I would do as you say, but since I am Monsieur de Rochefort, I cannot. -I am only a poor gentleman of Auvergne, without any head for political -intrigue or any hand for political matters, and were I to open that -letter, I would do the business so badly, that my unaccustomed hand -would betray itself.” - -“Monsieur, I did not ask you to open this letter.” - -“Mademoiselle, had you done so, I would have obeyed you without murmur, -for your lightest request would be for me a command. And now put the -accursed thing away that it may not tempt us any more, and if you -will show me to some room where I may snatch a couple of hours’ sleep, -I will lie down, for I have a heavy day before me if I am not very -greatly mistaken.” - -Javotte rose up and placed the letter in the drawer of a bureau by the -door. Then she ran out of the room and returned with a rug of marten -skin, which she spread on the bed; she turned the rug back and arranged -the pillows. She was offering him her bed. - -“I will call you at six o’clock,” said she. - -She glanced round the room like a careful housewife who wishes to see -that everything is in order, smiled at Rochefort, nodded, and vanished, -closing the door behind her. - -Rochefort removed his coat and sword-belt, got under the rug, rested -his head on the pillow and in five minutes was snoring. - -Javotte, crossing the landing, entered her mistress’s bedroom, where a -lamp was burning. - -She turned the lamp full on and sat down in a chair by the fire-place. -She was in love and her love was hopeless, and her power of love may -be gauged from the fact that she was thinking less of herself than of -Rochefort, and less of Rochefort than his position. - -She knew Camille Fontrailles as only a woman can know a woman. That -beautiful face, those eyes so capable of betraying interest and love, -that charm, that grace—all these had no influence with Javotte. She -guessed Camille to be heartless, not cruel, but acardiac, if one may -use the expression, without impulse, negative towards men, yet exacting -towards them, requiring their homage, yet giving in return no pay—or -only promissory notes; capable of real friendship towards women, and -more than friendship—absolute devotion to a chosen woman friend. This -type of woman is exceedingly common in all high civilizations; it -is the stand of the ego against the Race instinct, a refusal of the -animal by the sensibilities, a development of the finer feelings at the -expense of the natural passions—who knows—— Javotte reasoned only by -instinct, and it was instinct that made her guess Rochefort’s passion -for Camille to be a hopeless passion, and it was this guess that now -brought some trace of comfort to her human and wicked heart. - -She was capable of dying for Rochefort, of sacrificing all comfort in -life for his comfort, yet of treasuring the thought of his discomfiture -at the hands of Camille. - -She rose up, and, taking the lamp, stood before the mirror that had so -often reflected the beauty of her mistress. - -What she saw was charming, yet she saw it through the magic of -disenchantment. - -It was the wild flower gazing at her reflection in the brook where the -lordly dragon-fly pauses for a second, heedless of her, on his way -towards the garden of the roses. - -Then she placed the lamp on the table again, and went downstairs to -make coffee for the dragon-fly, to give him strength on his journey. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE GRATITUDE OF THE DUBARRYS - - -Rochefort was pursuing Camus through Dreamland, when the touch of a -hand upon his shoulder brought him wide awake. It was Javotte. She -had placed the tray with the coffee on a table by the window, and was -standing beside him. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, burst out laughing as -though the world he had awakened to was a huge joke, and, casting the -marten-skin rug aside, rose to his feet. - -“_Ma foi_,” said he, “I was chasing a man through the palace of -Versailles, when Monsieur de Choiseul laid his hand on my shoulder—and -the hand was yours. It is a good omen.” - -He kissed the hand that had brought him the coffee, slipped on his coat -and sword-belt, laughing and talking all the time, and then, coffee-cup -in hand, stood still talking and at the same time glancing out of the -window every now and then. - -He had remembered, a most important fact, that he owed his valet a -month’s wages. - -Javotte at once offered to take it for him, and placing five louis in a -piece of paper, he gave them to her for the purpose. - -“That will keep him going till things clear up,” said Rochefort. “He -is faithful enough, but without money he would be driven to seek -another master. And now good-bye, little one, nay, not good-bye—_au -revoir_. We will meet soon again, of that I am sure, and in happier -circumstances.” - -“Are you going to the Rue de Valois, monsieur?” - -“I am going to the Rue de Valois, and that as quick as my feet can take -me.” - -“But, monsieur, have you not thought of the danger?” - -“What danger?” - -“Oh, _ma foi_! What danger? If Monsieur de Choiseul is pursuing you, -will he not have the streets watched?” - -“Undoubtedly; but as Paris is under Monsieur de Sartines, Monsieur de -Choiseul must first put Monsieur de Sartines in motion. Now, Monsieur -de Sartines is my friend and he will delay, I am perfectly sure; he -will be bound to act, but he will not be bound to break his neck -running after me. So I feel pretty safe till noon.” - -Javotte sighed. She said nothing more, but accompanied him down the -stairs to the door, which she unlatched for him. The _concierge_, a -discreet person, no doubt observed this letting out of a man whom he -had not let in. However, that was nothing to him, and as for Javotte, -she did not think of the matter, so filled was her mind with other -things. - -Having closed the door on Rochefort, she came up again to her room, -and taking the letter from the drawer in the bureau looked at it long -and attentively. Rochefort had refused to open it, but Javotte had no -scruples at all on the matter. She argued with herself thus: “If I -were to open this from curiosity, I would be on the level with those -spying servants whom I detest, like Madame Scudery’s maid or the maid -of Madame du Close. But I am not doing it from curiosity. I am doing -it for the sake of another person, who is too proud and too fine to -take precautions for himself. And who is Monsieur de Choiseul that one -should trouble about opening his letters? Does he not do the very same -himself—and who is Mademoiselle La Bruyère that one should not open -her letters? Does she not do much worse in many and many a way? And -what are they writing to one another about, these two? Well, we will -see.” - -She procured a knife and heated it over the still burning lamp in her -mistress’ bedroom. Then, with a dexterity which she had often seen -exhibited in the Dubarry _ménage_, she slid the hot knife under the -seals of the letter. - - * * * * * - -Meanwhile, Rochefort was walking briskly towards the Rue de Valois. -It was a perfect morning, the sky was stainless and the new-risen sun -was flooding the city with his level beams, pouring his light on the -mansions and gardens of the Faubourg St. Honoré, on the churches and -spires of the cité, on the Montagne Ste. Genevieve and on the grim, -black towers of the Bastille. - -His way lay through the Rue de Provençe, a street that might have been -named after its inhabitants, for here, amidst the early morning stir of -life, you might hear the Provençal patois, the explosive little oaths, -the shrill tongues of the women of the Camargue; and here you might buy -Arles sausages, and Brandade, from swarthy shopkeepers with red cotton -handkerchiefs tied round their heads and with gold rings in their -ears, and here you might see the Venus of Arles in the flesh at every -corner. - -He passed from here into the Rue d’Artois, and then into the Rue de -Valois. - -Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte was at home, and Rochefort, following the -servant, passed into the hall and was shown into the identical room -where, only the night before last, he had assisted at the council of -war, and where the Countess had protested her devotion to him and the -Vicomte Jean had sworn eternal friendship. - -The servant had drawn the blinds, and the morning light entered, -illuminating the place and striking the white and gold decorations, the -painted ceiling and the crystal of the candelabrum. The chairs were set -about just as they had been left by the last persons who had occupied -the place, and on one of the chairs was lying a woman’s glove. - -From the next room could be heard voices; men’s voices, laughter and -the clink of money. The Vicomte Jean and some of his disreputable -companions were, no doubt, playing at cards, had been playing, most -likely, all night, or, at all events, since news came that the -presentation was a success, for the Vicomte had not turned up at -Versailles, he had been too busy in Paris arranging matters. - -Now, as Rochefort listened, he heard the servant entering to announce a -visitor; the voices of the card-players ceased, then came the sounds of -voices grumbling. A minute later, and the door giving on the corridor -opened, and Jean Dubarry made his appearance. - -He had never looked worse. His face was stiff from drink and -sleeplessness, his coat was stained with wine, and one stocking was -slipping down and wrinkled. He had been taking huge pinches of snuff -to pull himself together, and the evidence of it was upon him. - -“Ha, Rochefort,” cried the man of pleasure. “You are early, hey! You -see me—I have not been to bed—when the good news came by special -messenger, I had some friends here, they are here still——” He yawned -and flung himself on a couch, stretched out his legs, put his hands in -his pockets, and yawned again. - -“Your special messenger did not come quicker from Versailles than I -did,” said Rochefort. “Dubarry, I’m in the pot this time. I have always -avoided politics, but they have got me at last, it seems.” - -“What are you saying?” asked Dubarry. - -“I am saying that Choiseul is after me.” - -“Choiseul after you!” echoed Dubarry, rousing himself. “What is this -you say? What has he found out? _Dame_! I thought all this business was -happily ended, and now you come and disturb me with this news—what is -it?” - -“Oh, _ma foi_, you may well ask what is it!” replied Rochefort, -irritated by the manner of the other. “It is this precious business -of yours that has fallen on me, and it seems to me now that I am the -only one to pay. Choiseul has discovered my part in it; he tried to -arrest me at Versailles last night, he failed and I am here. I am -pursued—that is all.” - -Dubarry rose to his feet thoroughly sobered; he walked a few steps up -and down the room, as if trying to pull his thoughts together. Then he -turned to Rochefort. - -“You will excuse me for saying it, my dear Rochefort, but, considering -the delicate position of the Comtesse and the fact that Choiseul is in -pursuit of you—it would have been wiser of you to have sought shelter -elsewhere. We are quite ready to help, but it is imperative now that -this affair has blown over that we should resume friendly relationship -with Choiseul. Of course, we are not friends, still, you can very well -understand the necessity of our keeping up an appearance of friendship -with the man who is the first man in France after his Majesty. It is -diplomacy—that is all.” - -“Excuse me,” said Rochefort, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” - -“In what way?” - -“I did not come here to take shelter.” - -“You came, then, to see me?” - -Rochefort looked Dubarry up and down, then he broke into a laugh. - -“No, my dear man, I did not come here to see you. I came here to see -Mademoiselle Fontrailles, and to take my leave of her before I leave -France or enter the Bastille.” - -“To see Mademoiselle Fontrailles?” - -“Precisely.” - -“At this hour?” - -“The matter is urgent.” - -“But it is impossible. She is not up yet.” - -“She will get up when she learns that I am here.” - -“You think so. Well, I tell you no. Put off your visit to her, for -she came back last night not well disposed towards you; you kept her -waiting, it seems, and then you did not arrive.” - -“I wish to explain all that.” - -“Wait, then,” said Jean. - -He left the room in an irritable manner, and returned in a minute or -two. - -“Mademoiselle Fontrailles is unable to see you; she will not be visible -before noon.” - -“Ah, then at noon she will not be visible to me, for at noon I must be -out of Paris. You did not give her my message.” - -“Oh, _ma foi_!” cried Jean, swelling like a turkey-cock. “You say that -to my face! You give me the lie direct!” - -“I give you nothing. I say you did not explain to her fully my -position.” - -“Explain to her your position? _Mon Dieu_! I explained it as well as -I could, shouting through her closed bedroom door, and her reply was, -‘Tell Monsieur Rochefort I am unable to see him, and in any event I -will not come down till noon.’ So you see, she did not even say she -would see you at noon.” - -“The devil!” said Rochefort. “I don’t know what to make of you all. I -say nothing about any help I have given you, but I will say this, the -man I have pitted myself against, Monsieur de Choiseul, is at least a -gentleman who looks after the interests of his friends. Good-day.” - -He turned to the door. - -“Where are you going to?” asked Jean. - -“I am going to breakfast at the Café de Régence.” - -“In your position?” - -“Precisely. What do I care? I will leave Paris at my own time, and in -my own way.” - -“But, my dear Rochefort,” cried Jean, now very eager and friendly, “if -you are pursued by Choiseul, and if you do not leave Paris at once, you -will be simply playing into his hands; you will be caught, imprisoned, -they may even torture you to make you tell.” - -“About the presentation?” - -“About anything—everything. You know Choiseul, he is pitiless.” - -“Make your mind easy,” said Rochefort, “I will tell without letting -them torture me. What are you all to me that I should care? Now you -have used me, you have done with me, and you are anxious that I should -escape, not because you care a _denier_ for my safety, but because you -fear that they may extract the story of Ferminard from me——. That is -what I think of you, Monsieur le Vicomte, what I think of Madame la -Comtesse, what I think of Mademoiselle Fontrailles; you can tell them -so with my regards.” - -He turned on his heel, pushed the door open and walked out. - -He was furious. Certain that Jean had told him the truth as to -Camille’s message—for Jean had indeed told the truth, and his -sincerity was patent—he could have pulled the house of Dubarry down on -the heads of its inmates. - -Instead, however, of making such an attempt, he walked into the street -and strode off without looking back. - -Jean, left alone, rushed back to the room where the gamblers were still -playing, drank off a glass of wine, excused himself, and then went to -the servants’ quarters, ordered a carriage to be brought at once to -the door, rushed upstairs, changed his clothes, and the carriage being -ready, drove to the Hôtel de Sartines. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE PAIR OF SPECTACLES - - -The Hôtel de Sartines was situated in the Faubourg St. Germain. Jean -Dubarry’s carriage drove into the courtyard as half-past eight was -striking, he descended, went up the steps, and entered the great hall, -where already the bustle and the business of the day was in full swing. - -The door was guarded by soldiers, a Suisse stood as sentry at the foot -of the great staircase, and soldiers sat about on the benches, whilst -crossing the hall from department to department went clerks, and men -with papers in their hands, messengers and agents. - -Dubarry gave his name to the usher on duty, and asked him to take it -to the Comte de Sartines, with a message that his business was urgent. -In less than five minutes, the man reappeared and asked the visitor to -follow him. - -He led the way up the broad staircase to the first floor, past the -entrance of the famous octagon chamber, down a corridor to the bedroom -of his Excellency, who was at that moment being finished off by his -valet, Gaussard, the same who, though a valet, claimed the right to -wear a sword by virtue of the fact that he was also a hairdresser. - -Sartines, released from the valet’s hands, was in the act of rising -from his chair, when Dubarry was announced. - -The Minister of Police was in an ill temper that morning, and as the -cause of his bad humour has an important bearing on our story, we will -refer to it. - -Briefly, then, some days ago a tragedy had occurred at Luciennes. -Atalanta, the King’s favourite hound, had been poisoned. Louis XV., to -give him his due, had a not unkindly feeling for animals. He tolerated -Mizapouff, the little dog of Madame Dubarry, that cut such quaint -capers at a celebrated dinner-party, he fed the carp in the pond -at Luciennes with his own royal hand—when he could find no better -amusement, and he was fond of Atalanta. Besides, she was his dog, the -only dog of all the dogs in France who had the entrée of his private -apartments. She was on a footing with the Duc de la Vrillière, her coat -had the royal arms embroidered on it, and she knew it; she was fed with -minced chicken, and she had her own personal attendant. - -Some days ago, this aristocrat had been found in the courtyard at -Luciennes, stiff and stark, poisoned by some miscreant or some -mischance. The King was furious. He took it as a personal matter. -Sartines was fetched over from Versailles, where he was on a visit of -inspection, and Sartines had the unpleasant task of inspecting the -corpse and questioning the cooks, the scullions, the chambermaids, -the grooms, the gardeners—everyone, in short, who might have had a -hand in the business, or who might have been able to cast some light -on the affair. The result was absolute darkness and much worry for -the unfortunate Sartines. The matter had become a joke at Court, and -Sartines might have measured the extent to which he was hated by the -way in which he was tormented. - -Everyone asked him about the dog, and whether he had made any further -advance into the mystery; a ballad was written about it, and he -received a copy. The whole business gave him more worry and caused him -more irritation than any other of the numerous affairs that were always -annoying and irritating him, and, to cap the business, he had received -this morning a neat little parcel containing a pair of spectacles. -Nothing more. - -The Vicomte bowed to Sartines and then, when the valet had taken his -departure, plunged into the business at hand: - -“My dear Sartines, that fool of a Rochefort has complicated matters in -the most vile way; he called an hour ago and knocked me up to tell me -the pleasant news that Choiseul is in pursuit of him. More than that, -he has taken a grudge against us. He is in love with the Fontrailles, -she refused to see him. I advised him to leave Paris at once, and all -I got for my advice was an accusation of ingratitude. He is against us -now; he knows all about the Ferminard affair, and he frankly threatened -me that, were Choiseul to capture him and question him in any -unpleasant way, he would tell all he knew. Even were Choiseul simply to -imprison him, he would most likely tell, just from spite against us and -to obtain his release.” - -“The devil!” said Sartines. “Things seem to have a habit of going wrong -these days—but he would not tell. I have great faith in Rochefort, -though I am not given to having faith in people. He is a very proud -man. He would not betray us.” - -“Has he promised secrecy?” - -“No, he has promised nothing.” - -“There you are. He may be a proud man, an honourable man—what you -will, but he fancies we have used him and cast him away. There is -the Fontrailles business as well. He is angry, and I tell you, when -Rochefort is like that, he cares for nothing. He said Choiseul was at -least a gentleman who could look after his friends. He will join arms -with Choiseul.” - -“Well, suppose he does?” - -“Then Choiseul will be in power for ever. Once he gets hold of the -true tale of the Ferminard business, he will flatten us out. I will be -exiled, for one, his Majesty could never allow such an affront to the -Monarchy to go unpunished; and you, Sartines, what will become of you? -Who originated the whole idea but you, yourself?” - -Sartines produced his snuff-box and took a pinch. Then he turned to the -window and looked out on the courtyard. - -He felt himself badly placed. - -He had guarded against everything but this—Rochefort turned an enemy. - -He knew quite well that the Dubarrys had used Rochefort just as they -had used the old Comtesse de Béarn, for their own ends, and would throw -him away when used; what angered him was the fact that this fool of a -Vicomte Jean had clearly let Rochefort perceive this; there was the -business of the girl, too. Rochefort had promised no secrecy. - -“Before we talk of Rochefort,” said he, “how about Madame de Béarn?” - -“We have nothing to fear from her,” said Jean. “She was furious, but -the thing is over, and were she to make a fuss, she would gain nothing -and lose a good deal. She has come in, and her price, between you and -me, was not a low price. She has cost us two hundred thousand francs. -By the way, I suppose Ferminard is safe?” - -“Yes; when his work was done, he was driven to Vincennes very securely -guarded. When Choiseul is gone from the Ministry, we will let him out. -Now, as to Rochefort, we must deal with that gentleman in a drastic -way. That is to say, we must save him from Choiseul. For, if Choiseul -once takes him into his hands, we are lost.” - -“How do you propose to act?” - -“Very simply. I shall arrest him and hide him in Vincennes.” - -“And Choiseul, when he hears the news, will visit him in Vincennes.” - -“Choiseul will not hear the news. We will pretend he has escaped. Early -this morning I had a letter from Choiseul, asking me to drag Paris -with a seine net for Rochefort. He is accused of having killed a man. -Well, I will drag Paris with a seine net, imprison Rochefort, under the -name of Bonhomme, or any name you please, and once we have him tightly -tucked away in Vincennes, all will be smooth. Captain Pierre Cousin, -the governor of Vincennes, is entirely mine.” - -“It is a good idea,” said Jean; “and really, seeing how Rochefort is -placed as regards Choiseul, it would be the best act we could do for -him.” - -“It’s the best we can do for ourselves,” said Sartines. “Has Rochefort -gone back to his rooms, do you think?” - -“I don’t know. He told me he would go to the Café de Régence for -breakfast.” - -“If he said that, he will be there, it’s just like his bravado, and -there I shall arrest him.” - -“He will resist, and he will be surrounded by friends.” - -“Dubarry,” said Sartines, “you talk as though you were talking to a -police agent. If you had been with me the other night, you would have -heard me giving Rochefort a little lecture on my ways and methods; you -would have heard me say, amongst other things, that I hold my position -not by cleverness—though, indeed, perhaps I am not a fool—but by my -knowledge of men and how they reason and think and act. Of course, if -I were to arrest Rochefort in the ordinary way, he would resist; his -friends would help him, blood would be spilt, and the Parisians would -cry out, ‘Ah! there is that cursed de Sartines again.’ Rochefort is a -popular figure, and a popular figure only requires to be arrested to -make it a popular idol. I do not intend to make an idol of Rochefort.” - -He went to the table by the window, and struck a bell. - -“Send Lavenne to me,” said he, when the servant answered the summons. -“Has he arrived yet?” - -“Yes, monsieur, he is here.” - -“Then send him up.” - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE ARREST OF ROCHEFORT - - -Rochefort, when he left the Hôtel Dubarry, reached the Rue St. Honoré -and walked up it, past the Hôtel de Noailles, and in the direction of -the Palais Royal. - -The Rue St. Honoré is the old main artery of the business and social -world of Paris on the right bank of the Seine. In one direction, it -led to the palaces of the Faubourg St. Honoré, in the other to the -Bastille. In the eighteenth century it was as bustling and alive with -business as it is now, and its side streets led even to more important -places. Walking up it from the Faubourg St. Honoré, you had the Place -Vendôme opening from it on the left, beyond the Place Vendôme the great -door giving entrance to the Jacobins, beyond that, as you advanced, the -Rue de l’Échelle, on the right, leading to the Place de Carrousel and -the Tuileries; on the left, further along, the Rue de Richelieu, and on -the right three streets leading directly to the Louvre. Beyond that the -Rue de Poulies leading to St. Germain l’Auxerrois, and much further on, -the Halles to the left. The river was much less accessible from the Rue -St. Honoré than it is to-day, being barred off by the Tuileries, the -buildings on the Quai des Galeries du Louvre, and the Louvre itself. -Nothing was more remarkable in this old Paris than the way in which -public convenience was sacrificed to the convenience of the King, -the nobles and the religious orders. You entered a street and found -yourself face to face with a barrier—as in that street where Rochefort -encountered and killed de Choiseul’s agent; a way that ought to have -led you to the river, brought you to the back door of a monastery; -a road that ought to have been a short cut, such as the Court St. -Vincent, landed you to the gateway of Le Manége. Streets like the Rue -du Brave led you into culs-de-sac like the Foire St. Germain. - -The religious orders showed large over the city. One might say that it -was a city of churches, monasteries, convents and religious houses, -palaces and royal residences. If every religious house had offered -sanctuary to the unfortunates pursued by the King or the nobles, then -Paris would have been the best city in the world for a man who was -trying to escape; this not being so, it was the worst, as Rochefort -would have found to his cost had he been on that business. But M. de -Rochefort was not making his escape. He was going to breakfast at the -Café de Régence, despite Choiseul and the world, or rather because of -them. - -Anger had worked him up into a mood of absolute recklessness. He had -never been famed for carefulness; wine made him mad—reckless; but -anger and thwarted desire were to prove themselves even more potent -than wine. As he went on his way, he expected arrest at each street -corner, or rather attempted arrest; for, in his present temper, he -would have resisted all of Choiseul’s agents and all de Sartines’ -guards, even had they been led by Choiseul and Sartines in person. - -He wanted to hit the Dubarrys, he wanted to strike at Camille -Fontrailles; failing them, it would content him to hit Choiseul or his -creatures should he come across them, or Sartines—or even his best -friend. - -Of course, the whole centre of this passionate fury was Camille -Fontrailles. She would not see him; very well, he would see what he -would not do. - -As he walked along the Rue St. Honoré, he glanced from right to left, -after the manner of a man who seeks to pick a quarrel even if he has -to pick it with a stranger. But at that comparatively early hour, the -Rue St. Honoré was not the place for a bully’s business. People were -too busy to give cause for offence, and too lowly to take it with a -nobleman, and Rochefort, if the matter had been an absolute necessity -with him, would have been condemned to skewer a shopboy, a market -porter, or a water-carrier. - -But at the Café de Régence, when he reached it, he found what he -imagined to be the _hors-d’œuvre_ for a regular banquet. - -The Café de Régence, at that period, was the meeting-place of the -intellectuals, and at the same time the meeting-place of the bloods. -Rousseau might have been seen there of an evening, Jean Dubarry -took breakfast there sometimes, Rochefort, and many others like -him, frequented the place. At this hour, that is to say about ten -o’clock, Rochefort found a couple of bald-headed men and several -rather seedy ones sipping coffee and discussing the news of the day. -They were Philosophers—Intellectuals, and like all Philosophers and -Intellectuals of all ages, untidy, shabby, and making a great noise. - -Rochefort, drinking the wine he had ordered and talking to the waiter -who had served it, spoke in so loud a voice and made such free remarks -about things in general, and the habitués of the café in particular, -that faces were turned to him from the surrounding tables and then -turned away again. No one wished to pick a quarrel with M. de -Rochefort, his character was too well known, and his tongue. - -He ordered _déjeuner_ for half-past eleven, and then he sat drinking -his wine, his virulence, like a sheathed sword, only waiting to be -drawn. But no one came to draw it. People entered and spoke to him, but -they were all Amiables. There was M. de Duras, rubicund and portly, -with whom one could no more quarrel than with a cask of port; there was -M. de Jussieu, the botanist and friend of Rousseau, beautifully dressed -and carrying a book, his head full of flowers and roots, long Latin -terms and platitudes; there was M. de Champfleuri, eighty years old, -yet with all his teeth, dressed like a May morning, and fragile-looking -as a Dresden china figure. He would damn your soul for the least -trifle, but you could not quarrel with him for fear of breaking him. -There was Monsieur Müller, who was finding his way in Paris as an -exponent—by means of a translator—of the theories of Mesmer. You -could not quarrel with him, as he only knew three words of French. -There were others equally impossible. Ah! if only M. d’Estouteville had -turned up, or Monpavon; Camus or Coigny! - -Rochefort turned to the breakfast that was now served to him, and as -he ate continued to grumble. If only some of these people whom he -hated would come, that he might insult them; if only one of Choiseul’s -agents, or even a dozen of them, would come to arrest him, so that he -might fight his way to the door and fight his way out of Paris; but no -one came, till—as he was in the middle of his meal—an inconspicuous -and quietly-dressed man entered, looked round, saw M. de Rochefort -sitting at his breakfast, and came towards him. - -It was Lavenne. - -Lavenne came up to the table, bowed, and taking an empty chair at the -opposite side of the table, sat down. - -“Monsieur de Rochefort,” said Lavenne, “I have come to arrest you.” - -He spoke with a friendly smile, and in a manner so urbane, and even -deferential, that Rochefort was quite disarmed. He broke into a laugh -as though someone had told him a good joke, refilled his glass, took a -sip, and placed the glass down again. - -“Oh, you have come to arrest me, Monsieur Lavenne; good. But where is -your sword, and where are your assistants?” - -“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “I never carry a sword, and I always act -single-handed.” - -“Ah, you always act single-handed—So do I. _Mordieu_! Monsieur -Lavenne, it is a coincidence.” - -“Call it a happy accident, monsieur.” - -“As how?” - -“Simply because, monsieur, that as I come to do you a service, and to -do it single-handed, your thanks will be all mine and I shall not have -to divide it with others.” - -“Now, upon my faith,” cried Rochefort, laughing and filling a glass -with wine, “you have a way of putting things which is entirely new; -and what I have observed in you before does not lose in value at all, -I assure you, on further acquaintance. May I offer you this glass of -wine? To your health—a strange wish enough, as I believe before many -minutes are over—as many minutes, in fact, as I take in finishing -my breakfast and rising from this table—I shall have the honour of -spitting you on my sword.” - -“To your health, monsieur,” replied Lavenne, perfectly unmoved and -raising the glass to his lips. “One can only do one’s duty, and as it -is my duty to arrest you, I must take the risk of your sword, which I -believe, monsieur, not to be sharper than your tongue to those who have -offended you; a risk which I reckon as slight, inasmuch as I have no -intention of offending you.” - -“Eh! no intention of offending me, and yet you talk of arrest!” - -“That is the fault of our language, monsieur, which compels us -sometimes to use words which carry unpleasant meanings to express -our thoughts. Now the word Arrest is not a pleasant word, yet in my -mouth and used at this table, it is not unpleasant—It means, in fact, -Protection.” - -“And how?” - -“It is necessary for you to leave Paris immediately, monsieur—is that -not so?” - -“I am going.” - -“No, monsieur, you are not. It is absolutely impossible to leave the -walls of Paris, and were you by some miracle to do so, Monsieur de -Choiseul would place his hand on you before you left France.” - -“I will risk it.” - -“You cannot—It is not a question of risk, it is a question of -certainty. Now, monsieur, you are young, you have forty years more of -good life before you, and you are in great danger of losing them.” - -“I do not fear death.” - -“Everyone knows that, but it is not death that you have to fear at the -hands of Monsieur de Choiseul; it is something much worse.” - -“And that?” - -“La Bastille, monsieur. She is a terrible person, who rarely lets go -what she once lays a hold on. You say to yourself, ‘Bah! I will fight -my way from Paris, I will escape somehow.’ Well, I tell you, you will -not. I will prove it to you. Last night, you ordered a horse to be kept -waiting for you at noon to-day a quarter of a mile beyond the Porte St. -Antoine.” - -“How do you know that?” - -“The Hôtel de Sartines knows everything, monsieur—— Well, Monsieur de -Sartines would be very happy not to interfere with this way of escape -for you, were it not that he knows Monsieur de Choiseul’s plans as well -as yours. In short, monsieur, the Porte St. Antoine is guarded so well -by Monsieur de Choiseul’s orders, that no one can leave Paris even in -disguise; every other gate is guarded as strictly.” - -“_Diable_!” said Rochefort. “It seems, then, that I must convert myself -into a bird to fly over the walls.” - -“Monsieur de Choiseul would set his falcons on you, monsieur.” - -“Into a rat, then, to crawl out through the sewers.” - -“The Hôtel de Choiseul contains many cats, monsieur.” - -“My faith, that’s true,” cried Rochefort, with a laugh, “since it -contains Madame de Choiseul and her friend, Madame la Princesse de -Guemenée. Well, then, I must stay in Paris. I will go and live with -Monsieur Rousseau and help him to write poetry—or is it music that he -writes?” - -“Neither, monsieur—but time is passing, and my business is urgent. I -am here to arrest you, and I call on you, monsieur, to follow me.” - -“And where?—to the Bastille?” - -“No, monsieur, to Vincennes, where we will hide you away from Monsieur -de Choiseul till this business has blown over, and where you will be -treated as a prisoner, but as a gentleman.” - -“But were I to fall in with this mad plan of yours, Monsieur Lavenne, I -would simply be running down Choiseul’s throat, it seems to me. As the -first Minister of France, he will easily find me in Vincennes.” - -“No, monsieur, he will not hunt in the prisons for a man whom he -fancies to be running on the roads. Monsieur de Sartines, even, will -have no official knowledge of your arrest. I am not arresting you under -your own name. I have, in fact, mistaken you for one Justin La Porte, -a gentleman under suspicion of conspiracy and of being a frequenter -of certain political clubs. Should Monsieur de Choiseul, by some ill -chance, find you at Vincennes, the whole blame would fall on me. I -would be dismissed the service for my ‘mistake.’” - -Rochefort, as he listened to all this, began to take counsel with -himself. His madness and anger against the world had received a -check under the hand of Lavenne. Lavenne was perhaps the only person -in the world who had ever called him to order, thwarted his will -without raising his anger, and made him think. Lavenne himself, in his -person, his manner and his life was a criticism on Rochefort. This -man who never drank—or only sipped half a glass of wine as a matter -of ceremony—who belonged to the people, who dressed soberly, and -whose life was very evidently one of hard work and devotion to duty, -commanded respect just as he commanded confidence. But there was more -than that. Lavenne had about him something of Fate, and an Authority -beyond even that of the Hôtel de Sartines. One could never imagine -this man reasoning wildly or acting foolishly, nor could one very well -imagine him allowing a personal motive to rule his line of action. -There was something disturbing in his calmness, as though one discerned -beneath everything a mechanism moving with the unswerving aim of a -mechanism towards the goal appointed by its constructor. - -“Even now, monsieur,” continued Lavenne, “you would have Monsieur de -Choiseul’s hand upon your shoulder had you not, urged by some good -fairy, taken refuge in the very last place where his agents and spies -would look for you; they are ransacking the streets, they are posted at -the gates, they are all hunting for a man who is running away, and you -have outwitted them simply by not running away, but coming to breakfast -at the Café de Régence.” - -“And yet you found me,” said Rochefort. - -“Because, monsieur, I belong to the Hôtel de Sartines, not to the Hôtel -de Choiseul.” - -“Let us be perfectly clear,” said Rochefort. “The agents of Choiseul -are hunting for me, the agents of Sartines are trying to hide me.” - -“Not quite so, monsieur: the agents of Choiseul are hunting for you, -and all the agents of the Hôtel de Sartines must assist the agents -of Choiseul if they are called upon by them to arrest Monsieur de -Rochefort. But _one_ agent of the Hôtel de Sartines, that is to say I, -myself, is trying to hide Monsieur de Rochefort, and he is doing so at -the instigation of Monsieur de Sartines.” - -“I see,” said Rochefort. “The matter is of such a delicate nature, -that Sartines dare not give a general order to his police to thwart -Choiseul’s men and to hide me, so he entrusts it to one man, and that -man is Monsieur Lavenne.” - -“Precisely, monsieur. You have put the whole thing in a nutshell.” - -“Well, Monsieur Lavenne, the last time I played chess, it was with -Monsieur de Gondy. I was stalemated by the move of a bishop. To-day, -playing chess with Monsieur de Sartines, I am stalemated by the move -of a knight. You are the knight, Monsieur Lavenne. You have closed in -on me and shown me my position, and I do not kick the board over in a -temper, simply because you have come to me as a gentleman comes to a -gentleman, and spoken to me as a gentleman speaks to a gentleman. I -cannot move, it seems, without being taken by either you or Choiseul. -I prefer you to Choiseul, not so much because you offer me Vincennes -in exchange for La Bastille, but because you are the better gentleman. -Monsieur Lavenne, I place myself and my sword in your hands. Arrest me.” - -He rose from the table, flung a louis on the cloth to pay his score. -Then, taking his hat, he left the café with his captor. - -In this fashion did de Sartines rope in and tame without -resistance a man whose capture, by Choiseul, might have involved -his—Sartines’—destruction. For Rochefort, angry with the Dubarrys and -incensed against Camille Fontrailles, was now the danger spot in the -surroundings of the Minister of Police, Rochefort and Ferminard—who -was already in the safe custody of Captain Pierre Cousin, the governor -of Vincennes. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -CAPTAIN ROUX - - -Lavenne left the café, followed by Rochefort. They passed down the -street to the corner, where, drawn up at the pavement, stood a closed -carriage. - -“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “this is a police carriage, and as such will -be able to leave the Porte St. Antoine—which, as you know, is the gate -leading to Vincennes—without question or examination.” - -“So I am to make my escape from the Bastille in a police carriage,” -laughed Rochefort. “Well, let us enter.” - -“Pardon me, monsieur, but I cannot go with you. I have to go to your -rooms and make a perquisition, an examination for papers, and so -on. Were I not to do this in person, it would be done by some fool, -perhaps, who might find undesirable things and talk, or play in some -other way into the hands of Monsieur de Choiseul. As for me, you may -trust that I will respect all your private correspondence.” - -“It is all burnt, my dear Monsieur Lavenne. However, make what search -you will. But am I to go alone to Vincennes—and what shall I say to -this charming governor you spoke of?” - -“No, monsieur, you are to go under strict arrest and masked. Captain -Roux is in the carriage; he is rather dull-witted, but has no tongue, -so he will not bore you.” - -“And will I see you at Vincennes?” - -“Possibly, monsieur. And now let me say at once that my advice to -you is patience. I do not hide at all from you, monsieur, that I am -your friend. That morning when you invited me to drink wine with you -whilst you breakfasted, showed me a gentleman, whom I am delighted to -be of service to, always remembering that my first services are due -to Monsieur de Sartines, my master. I will look after your interests -whilst not disregarding his. And now, monsieur, into the carriage, -quick, for delay is full of danger here in the open street.” - -“I thank you,” said Rochefort, “I have absolute confidence in all -you do and say. Well, _au revoir_, Monsieur Lavenne, and now for the -acquaintance of Monsieur le Capitaine Roux.” - -He entered the carriage, the door of which Lavenne had opened. - -“Captain Roux,” said Lavenne, “this is the prisoner, La Porte. Whilst -using him as a gentleman, keep him strictly guarded; and, above all, -let no man see his face till he is safely at Vincennes. You have the -mask. Monsieur La Porte will not object to your putting it upon him for -the journey.” - -He shut the door and called to the driver, “Vincennes.” - -Rochefort, face to face with the redoubtable Captain Roux, broke into a -laugh, which found no echo from the other. - -Roux was a stout man who never laughed, an earnest-minded machine, if -I may be allowed the term; he had also, to use Lavenne’s expression, -no tongue. The genius of de Sartines was never better shown than in -his selection of these two men for the arrest of Rochefort—Lavenne to -persuade him to accept arrest and be conveyed to Vincennes, Roux to -convey him. - -“Well, Monsieur le Capitaine,” said Rochefort, as the carriage started, -“it seems that we are to make a little journey together.” - -“Monsieur,” replied the other, “I wish to be in every way agreeable to -you and so fulfil my orders in that respect, but I am forbidden to talk -to you.” - -“And yet you are talking to me, my dear sir.” - -“I was only making a statement of my orders, monsieur. And now, if you -will permit me, this is the mask.” - -Rochefort took the grey silk mask and examined it, then, with a laugh, -he put it on. It was fixed with strings which tied behind the head, and -he had good reason to thank de Sartines’ forethought in supplying it; -for at the Porte St. Antoine, when the carriage stopped for a moment, -one of the guards, despite the warning of the coachman, pushed aside -the curtain of the window and popped his head in. - -“Whom have we here?” said he. - -Roux, in reply, struck the man a blow on the face with his clenched -fist. - -Then, leaning out of the window, he talked to the guards. He asked them -did they not know a carriage of the Hôtel de Sartines when they saw it, -and spoke to them about their intelligence, questioned their ancestry -and ordered the arrest of the unfortunate, whose nose was streaming -blood. Then he sank back, and the carriage drove on. - -“Ah, monsieur,” cried the delighted Rochefort, from behind his mask, -“I have never heard anything quite like that before. I would give the -liberty which I do not possess to be able to curse like that—and they -said you had no tongue! Tell me, was it by training you arrived at this -perfection, or was it a natural gift?” - -“Monsieur,” said Roux, “I am forbidden to speak to you.” - -The carriage rolled on, leaving the old Hôtel of the Black Musketeers -on the right, and the Bastille and the Porte St. Antoine safely behind. -Rochefort, seated beside his silent companion, said nothing more, at -least with his tongue. The silence of Captain Roux might be a check -to conversation, but it lent itself completely to that form of mental -conversation which Villon has so well exemplified in the Debate between -his heart and body. - -Commonsense and M. de Rochefort were having a few words together, and -commonsense was doing most of the talking. - -“Well, Monsieur de Rochefort,” said Commonsense, “and here we are in -a police carriage, at last, being driven to his Majesty’s fortress of -Vincennes; and all on account of Politics—that is to say, a woman. You -have known a hundred women, yet they have never succeeded in dragging -you into Politics. How did this one manage it? You lost your heart -to her. That is precisely what happened, and now you have lost your -liberty as well as your heart; next thing, you will lose your estates, -then you will take this Choiseul by the neck and strangle him, and then -you will lose your head—and all through a woman. - -“You have made a fool of yourself, Monsieur de Rochefort. Yesterday, -you were free as a butterfly, the whole world lay before you, you did -not know the meaning of the word Liberty. Well, you are to learn the -meaning of that word, and the lesson promises to be a curious one. You -are not Choiseul’s prisoner, you are not Sartines’ prisoner, you are -not even yourself. You are Monsieur La Porte, and you are being tucked -away in Vincennes, hidden, just as a man might hide an incriminating -letter in a desk. Why is Sartines so anxious to hide you? Is it not -that he fears that you may be found, and if this fear does not fade -away in his mind, it is quite on the cards that you may never be found. - -“And you can do nothing as yet, only wait. Monsieur Lavenne is your -friend, and it seems to me he is the only friend you have got in the -world.” - -Commonsense is sometimes wrong, as in this instance. - -It had forgotten Javotte. - -Rochefort was aroused from his reverie by the stoppage of the carriage. -They had arrived at the main gate of Vincennes. The great fortress -towered above them, the battlements cutting the sky and showing the -silhouette of a passing sentry against the free blue of heaven. - -Rochefort heard the harsh voices of the guards interrogating the -coachman. Then the carriage passed on, rumbling across the drawbridge, -and drew up in the courtyard before the door of the entrance for -prisoners. - -Rochefort got out and, following Captain Roux and being followed in -turn by a soldier, passed through the doorway down a corridor to the -reception-room. This was a bleak and formal place, the old guard-room -of the fortress, where the stands for pikes still remained and the -slings for arquebuses; but of pikes and pikemen, arquebuses or -arbalètes, nothing now remained, their places being taken by desks, -books and manuscripts, and a clerk dry as parchment, who was seated -behind one of the desks, and who, having entered all particulars in -a book, handed Captain Roux a receipt for Monsieur de Rochefort, as -though that gentleman had been a bundle of goods. - -Roux, having put the receipt in his belt, turned on his heel and, -without a word, left the room. Rochefort, left alone with the clerk and -the soldier, turned to the clerk. - -“Well, monsieur,” said Rochefort, “it seems to me that Monsieur le -Capitaine Roux has left his good manners with his tongue at the Hôtel -de Sartines; and he is in such a hurry back to find them that he has -forgotten to introduce us properly. I do not even know your name.” - -The clerk wrote something on a piece of paper, and handed it to the -soldier. - -“Come, monsieur,” said the soldier, touching Rochefort on the arm. - -“Monsieur,” said Rochefort, still addressing the clerk, “there is a -mistake somewhere.” - -“In what way?” - -“In this way, monsieur. When I consented to come here as the guest of -Monsieur de Sartines, I did so on the understanding that I was to be -treated as a gentleman. I demand to see Captain Pierre Cousin, the -governor of Vincennes.” - -“He is absent.” - -“When does he return?” - -“Monsieur,” said the clerk, “it is not for a prisoner to ask questions.” - -“But it is for a clerk to reply. _Mordieu_! it seems to me you do not -know to whom you are talking. Come, your master, when does he return?” - -The man of parchment half rose from his chair. Then he sat down again. -He had, in fact, a special despatch from Sartines on his table giving -instructions as to Rochefort’s treatment. He swallowed his anger, and -took a different tone. - -“The governor of Vincennes returns this evening; he will be informed -that you wish to see him. And now, monsieur, our interview is ended. I -am busy.” - -“Good,” said Rochefort, turning on his heel. Following the soldier, he -left the room. - -This same soldier was the gaoler on duty by day, whose business it was -to receive prisoners, accompany them before the governor or clerk, -and then to see them safely incarcerated according to the orders of -the governor. Vincennes was much more of a military prison than the -Bastille. Soldiers were the gaolers, and the day went to the roll of -drums and the blare of bugles, rather than to the clang of bells. -Vincennes was more cheerful than the Bastille, but was reckoned less -healthy. Madame de Rambouillet it was who said that the cell in which -Marshal Ornano died was worth its weight in arsenic; yet of the two -prisons, Vincennes was preferable, if there can be such a thing as -choice between prisons. - -Rochefort followed his guide down the corridor, and then up a circular -stone staircase to the floor above. Here they passed down another -corridor, till they reached a door on the right which the sergeant -opened, disclosing a room, barely furnished, yet not altogether -cheerless. - -The grated window gave a sweeping view of the country; to the left, -pressing one’s nose against the glass, one could get a glimpse of the -outskirts of Paris; immediately below lay the castle moat, and running -past the moat, the Paris road bordered with poplar trees. - -Rochefort went to the window and looked out, whilst Sergeant Bonvallot, -for that was the name of his guardian, dismissed the soldier who had -followed them, closed the door, and began to make arrangements for the -comfort of his visitor. - -He inspected the water-pitcher to see if it were filled, the bed -coverings to see if they were thick enough, and the sheets to see -if they were clean. He knew perfectly well that all was in order, -but Rochefort had the appearance of a man who would pay for little -attentions, and they were cheap. - -“There, monsieur,” said Bonvallot, when he had finished, “I have -made you as comfortable as I can. Your dinner will be served at five -o’clock, your supper at nine, and should you feel cold a fire is -permitted, also writing materials, should you need them—but for those -you will have to pay.” - -Rochefort turned from the window and contemplated his gaoler fully, and -for the first time. - -Bonvallot was a large man, with small eyes and a face that suggested -good-humour. He would have made a capital innkeeper. - -“Why, upon my word,” said Rochefort, who knew at once how to tackle his -man, “you seem to me an admirable fellow. My own servant could not have -done better, and when I come to leave here, you will not have cause to -regret your efforts on my behalf. Your name?” - -“Bonvallot, monsieur.” - -“Well, Monsieur Bonvallot, here is a half louis to drink my health, and -when my dinner is served, let me have a bottle of your best Beaune, -and a fire, certainly, there is no companion like a fire, and as for -writing materials, we will see about that to-morrow. Should there be -any books in this old inn of yours, Monsieur Bonvallot, you may bring -them to me. I am not a great reader, but who knows what one may become -with so much time on one’s hands, as it is likely I may have here—Is -your inn pretty full?” - -“Fairly so, monsieur,” replied Bonvallot, falling into the vein of the -other. “Though no guests have arrived for some days, still, those who -are here remain a long time.” - -“Ah! they could not pay any better compliment to the house. Am I alone -on this corridor?” - -“No, monsieur, in the room next to yours there is another guest. _Ma -foi_! he is not difficult to feed either; he seems to live on pens, ink -and paper.” - -“He must suffer from indigestion, this guest of yours.” - -“I do not know what he suffers from, monsieur, but this I do know: when -I bring him his food he makes me listen to what he has written, which I -cannot understand in the least.” - -“Ah, he must be a philosopher, then.” - -“I do not know, monsieur. I only know that I do not understand him.” - -“Then he is most certainly a philosopher. Well, Monsieur Bonvallot, -I will not keep you from your duties. Do not forget the Beaune; and -presently, perhaps, you will be able to assist me in getting clean -linen and so forth, for I came here in such a hurry, that I forgot to -order my valet to pack my valise.” - -“We will arrange about that, monsieur,” replied Bonvallot. - -He went out, shutting and locking the door, and Rochefort was left -alone with his thoughts. He walked to the window again and looked out. -Then he opened the glass sash. The walls at the openings of these upper -windows were bevelled, else each window would have been but the opening -of a tunnel six feet long. They were guarded each by a single iron -bar, and the glass sash opened inwardly. Rochefort had as yet no idea -of flight, and he was, perhaps, the only prisoner who had ever looked -through that window without measuring the thickness of the bar, or -estimating the height of the window from the ground. - -He was quite content with his position for the moment. Lavenne’s words -were still ringing in his ears, and Lavenne’s face was still before -him. Rochefort had never feared a man in his life, yet Lavenne had -brought him almost to the point of fearing Choiseul. - -At bottom, M. de Rochefort was not a fool, and he recognized that -whilst Life and Death are simply toys for a brave man to play with, -imprisonment for life is a thing for the bravest man to dread. -Vincennes was saving him from Choiseul, and as he stood at the window -whistling a tune of the day, he followed Choiseul with his mind’s eye, -Choiseul ransacking Paris, Choiseul posting spies on all the roads, -Choiseul urging on the imperturbable and sphinx-like de Sartines, and -Sartines receiving Choiseul’s messages without a smile. - -He was standing like this, when a voice made him start and turn round. - -“Monsieur de Rochefort,” said the voice, which sounded as though the -speaker were in the same room as the prisoner. - -“_Mon Dieu_!” cried Rochefort. “Who is that speaking, and where are -you?” - -“Here, Monsieur de Rochefort, in the next chamber to yours. I heard -your voice and recognized it talking to that fat-headed Bonvallot, and -I said there must be a hole in the wall somewhere to let a voice come -through like that; so I searched for it and found it. The hole is under -my bed. A large stone has been removed, evidently by some industrious -rat of a prisoner, who never could complete his business. Search for -the hole on your side, Monsieur de Rochefort.” - -Rochefort pulled his bed out from the wall, and there, surely enough, -was a hole about a foot square in the wainscoting. He lay down on his -face and tried to look through into the next chamber, but the wall was -three feet thick and the head of his interlocutor on the other side -blocked the light, so that he could see nothing. - -“Here is the hole,” said he, “but I can see nothing. Who are you?” - -“Who am I? Did you not recognize my voice? _Hé, pardieu_, I am -Ferminard. Who else would I be?” - -“Ferminard! Just heaven! and what on earth are you doing here?” - -“Doing here? I am hiding from Monsieur de Choiseul. What else would I -be doing here?” - -“Hiding from Choiseul! Explain yourself, Monsieur Ferminard.” - -“Well, Monsieur Rochefort, it was this way. After that confounded -presentation, I had an interview with Monsieur Lavenne, one of Monsieur -de Sartines’ agents, and as a result of that interview, I consented to -place myself under the protection of Monsieur de Sartines for a short -time. You can very well guess, monsieur, the reason why, especially as -it was brought to my knowledge that Monsieur de Choiseul had wind of -my hand in that affair, and was about to search for me.” - -“Oho!” said Rochefort. “That is why you are here.” - -“Yes, monsieur, and now in return for my confidence, may I ask why you -are in the same position and under the same roof?” - -“Well, I am here for just the same reason, Monsieur Ferminard.” - -“You are hiding from Monsieur de Choiseul.” - -“Precisely.” - -“_Mordieu_, that is droll.” - -“You think so?” - -“It is more than droll. For, see here, Monsieur de Rochefort, we are -two prisoners, we neither of us wish to escape, yet we have the means.” - -“Explain yourself.” - -“Well, monsieur, I have only been here a very short time, yet, being an -indefatigable worker, the moment I arrived I demanded writing materials -and set to work upon a drama that has long been in my mind. Now it is -my habit when working to walk to and fro and to act, as it were, my -work even before it is on paper.” - -“Yes,” said Rochefort, laughing, “I heard you once; go on.” - -“Well, monsieur, I chanced to stamp upon the floor whilst impersonating -the character of Raymond, the villain of my piece, and the floor, where -I stamped upon it, sounded hollow. ‘Ah ha!’ said I, ‘what is this?’ I -found a flag loose and raised it, and what did I find there but a hole.” - -“Yes?” - -“And in the hole, a knotted rope some forty feet long, a staple, and a -big sou.” - -“_Ma foi_! But what do you mean by a big sou?” - -“Why, monsieur, a big sou is a sou that has been split in two pieces -and hollowed out, then a thread is made round the edges so that the two -halves can be screwed together, so as to form a little box.” - -“And what can be held in a box so small?” - -“A saw, monsieur, made from a watch-spring, a little thing enough, but -able to cut through the thickest bar of iron.” - -“And does your big sou hold such a saw?” - -“It does, monsieur.” - -“_Ciel_! what a marvel, what industry; and to think that some poor -devil of a prisoner made all that, and got his rope ready, and then -perhaps died or was removed before he could use it!” - -“Yes, monsieur, he had everything ready. The thing is a little tragedy -in itself, and is even completed by this hole.” - -Rochefort laughed. - -“And how can a hole complete a tragedy, Monsieur Ferminard?” - -“Why, quite simply, Monsieur de Rochefort. The window in this chamber -is too narrow to permit the passage of a man’s body, so, doubtless, the -prisoner was anxious to reach your chamber. Of what dimensions is your -window?” - -“Large enough to get through for an ordinary-sized man.” - -“There, you see that the unfortunate was justified, and we may even say -that the unfortunate must have had some knowledge of your chamber and -the dimensions of your window. Well, Monsieur de Rochefort, his labour -was not all lost, for though neither of us wish to escape, we both -wish to talk to the other. We will have much pleasant conversation -together, you and I. Up to this, I have had no one to speak to but -that fat-head of a Bonvallot, a man absolutely destitute of parts, -who does not know the difference, it seems to me, between a tragedy -and a comedy, and to whom a strophe of poetry and the creaking of a -cart-wheel amount to the same thing.” - -“I assure you, Monsieur Ferminard, the good Bonvallot and I are much -in the same case. I know nothing about poetry, and I cannot tell a -stage-play from a washing-bill. So in whatever conversations we have -together, let us talk of anything but the theatre.” - -“On the contrary, Monsieur de Rochefort, since you confess yourself -ignorant of one of the most sublime branches of art, it will be my -pleasure to open for you the doors of a Paradise where all may enter, -so be that they are properly led. But, hush! I hear a sound in the -corridor. Replace your bed.” - -Rochefort rose to his feet and replaced the bed. Scarcely had he done -so, when the door opened, and Bonvallot appeared, bearing some clean -linen, two towels, and some toilet necessaries. - -“Here, monsieur,” said Bonvallot, “are several shirts new laundered, -and other articles, which I have scraped together for your comfort. -Half a louis will pay for them.” - -“Thanks, put them on the bed; and now tell me, which of the guests of -your precious inn occupied my chamber last.” - -“Why, monsieur, this chamber has not had a tenant for two years and a -half. Then it was occupied by Monsieur de Thumery.” - -“And what became of Monsieur de Thumery?” - -“He was removed to the next chamber, monsieur.” - -“Ah, and is he there still?” - -“No, monsieur, he died a month ago.” - -“What sort of man was he, this Monsieur de Thumery?” - -“A very delicate man, monsieur, and very pious—one who scarcely ever -spoke.” - -“He never tried to escape, I suppose.” - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_! no, Monsieur, he was as gentle as a lamb. He did -nothing but read the lives of the saints.” - -“Thank you, and here is your half louis. And what is that book on the -bed?” - -“Why, I brought it with the clothes, monsieur, as you said you wished -for books. It belonged to Monsieur de Thumery. It is not much, some -religious book or other—still, it is a book.” - -He went off, and Rochefort picked up M. de Thumery’s religious book. It -was the works of François Rabelais, printed by Tollard of the Rue de la -Harpe, in the year 1723. - - - - -BOOK III - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE POISONING OF ATALANTA - - -Meanwhile, Lavenne, having watched the carriage containing Rochefort -and Captain Roux taking its departure, turned and took his way to -Rochefort’s rooms in the Rue de Longueville. The Rochefort affair was -only an incident in his busy profession, yet whilst he was upon it, it -held his whole life and ambition in life. He was made in such a manner, -that the moment filled all his purview without blinding him. He could -see the moment, yet he could also see consequences—that is to say, the -future, and causes—that is to say, the past. - -In his seven years’ work under Sartines, he had learned the fact -that these social and political cases like that of Rochefort almost -invariably produce, or are allied to, other cases, either engaging -or soon to engage the attention of the police. Even in the spacious -Court of France, people were too tightly packed for one to move in an -eccentric manner without producing far-reaching disturbances, and he -was soon to prove this fact in the case of M. de Rochefort. - -Having reached Rochefort’s house, he was admitted by the concierge. He -passed upstairs to the rooms occupied by the Count, ordered the valet -to take his place on the stairs, and should any callers arrive, to -show them up. Then, having shown his credentials as an agent of the -Hôtel de Sartines, he began his perquisition. - -There was nothing to find and he expected nothing, yet he proceeded on -his business with the utmost care and the most painstaking minuteness. - -In the middle of his work, he was interrupted by the valet, who knocked -at the door. - -“Monsieur,” said the valet, “there is a young girl who has called. She -is waiting outside.” - -“Ah, she is waiting—well, show her in.” - -The man disappeared, and returned in a moment ushering in Javotte. - -Lavenne looked up from some papers which he was examining. Javotte’s -appearance rather astonished him. Young, fresh, and evidently -respectable, he could not for a moment place her among possible -visitors to Rochefort. Then it occurred to him that she might be the -maid of some society woman sent with a message, and, without rising -from his seat, he pointed to a chair. - -“What is your business here, mademoiselle?” asked Lavenne. - -“My business, monsieur, is to pay the last month’s wages of Monsieur de -Rochefort’s valet. I have the money here with me. May I ask whom I have -the pleasure of addressing?” - -“You are addressing an agent of the Hôtel de Sartines. Place the money -on the table, mademoiselle, and it shall be handed to the valet. And -now a moment’s conversation with you, please. Who, may I ask, entrusted -you with this commission?” - -“Monsieur,” replied Javotte, “that is my business entirely.” - -Lavenne leaned back in his chair. - -“Mademoiselle, I am going to ask you a question. Are you a friend of -Monsieur de Rochefort?” - -“Indeed, I am, monsieur.” - -“Well, then, if you are a friend of his, I may tell you that I also am -his friend, though I am, at the present moment, making an examination -of his effects. So in his interests please be frank with me.” - -Javotte looked at the quiet and self-contained man before her. Youth -and Innocence, those two great geniuses, proclaimed him trustworthy, -and she cast away her reserve. - -“Well, monsieur, what do you want me to say?” - -“Just this, I want you to tell me what you know of this gentleman. What -you say may not be worth a _denier_ to me, or it may be useful. You -need say, moreover, nothing to his disadvantage, if you choose. Well?” - -“I know nothing to his disadvantage, monsieur. He is the bravest man in -the world, the most kind, and he saved me but the other night from two -men who would have done me an injury——” Then catching fire, she told -volubly the whole story of the occurrence on the night of the Duc de -Choiseul’s ball. - -Lavenne listened attentively. - -Sartines had already given him Camus’ story of the killing of -Choiseul’s agent. Javotte was now giving him the true story. He -instantly saw the facts of the case, and the character of Camus. - -“And you say, mademoiselle, that Monsieur de Rochefort, returning from -the chase of those ruffians, one of whom he killed, by the way, found -Monsieur Camus offering you an insult and struck him to the ground. -Did Monsieur Camus not resent that action?” - -“Monsieur, he did nothing, but he turned when he was going away and -shook his finger at Monsieur de Rochefort.” - -“Well, Mademoiselle Javotte, one question more: on whose service were -you carrying that letter of which the robbers wished to relieve you? -Speak without fear, whatever you say will do Monsieur de Rochefort no -harm.” - -“Monsieur, it was a letter addressed to Madame Dubarry.” - -“Ah ha! That is all I wish to know. Well, say nothing of all this -to anyone else, and should you have anything more to communicate to -me, come to my private address, No. 10, Rue Picpus; ask for Monsieur -Lavenne. That is my name. And remember this, as far as it is in my -power, I am the friend of Monsieur de Rochefort.” - -“Thank you, monsieur—and may I ask one question? Do you know where -Monsieur de Rochefort is now, and is he safe?” - -“I cannot tell you where he is, but I believe he is safe. In fact, I -may be as frank with you as you have been with me, and say he is safe.” - -“Thank you, monsieur.” - -“One moment,” said Lavenne, as she rose to go. “May I ask your address, -should I by any possibility need it?” - -“I am in the service of Mademoiselle Fontrailles, monsieur.” - -“Ah, you are in the service of Mademoiselle Fontrailles. Well, -Mademoiselle Javotte, say nothing to anyone of our meeting, say -nothing of our conversation, say nothing of Monsieur de Rochefort; -but keep your eyes and ears open, and if you wish to serve Monsieur de -Rochefort, let me have any news you may be able to bring me concerning -him.” - -“Now, I will swear that girl is in love with the Count,” said Lavenne -to himself, when she had departed, “and the Count, according to -my master, is in love with Mademoiselle Fontrailles, who has the -reputation of being incapable of love. Mademoiselle Fontrailles is a -bosom friend of Madame Dubarry, and Madame Dubarry’s letter it was -which caused the agents of Monsieur de Choiseul to attack Mademoiselle -Javotte, and Monsieur de Rochefort to kill one of those precious -agents. Mademoiselle Javotte has already proved to me that Monsieur -le Comte Camus has lied in giving his evidence against Monsieur de -Rochefort. The case widens, like those circles that form when one -throws a stone into a pond. Well, let it continue to widen, and we will -see what we will see.” - -He finished his examination of Rochefort’s rooms, paid the valet off, -locked the place up and started for the Hôtel de Sartines. - -Monsieur de Sartines was seated in the octagon chamber on the first -floor; he was busy writing at the famous bureau of a hundred drawers, -which contained in its recesses half the secrets of France, and which -had belonged to his predecessor, Monsieur D’Ombreval. - -He looked up when Lavenne was announced, finished the letter on which -he was engaged, and then turned to the agent. - -“Well,” said de Sartines, “what about Monsieur de Rochefort?” - -“He is at Vincennes by this time, monsieur. The affair was a little -difficult, but I made him see reason, and he made no objection to -accompanying Captain Roux. I have examined his rooms and found nothing. -I have also discovered that the evidence given against him by Count -Camus is far from being truthful.” - -He told of Javotte and her story in a few words. - -“Quite so,” replied Sartines; “and you know perfectly well that it does -not matter a button whether this agent was killed by foul or fair play, -or whether Count Camus has lied or not. The case is just as bad against -Monsieur Rochefort from Monsieur de Choiseul’s point of view, and that -is everything. No matter, we have Rochefort in safe keeping. - -“Now to another business. Prepare to start at once for Versailles. -You will inquire into the poisoning of this dog, which has given me -more trouble and annoyance than the poisoning of Monsieur de Choiseul -himself would have given me. I have inquired into it personally. I -have put Valjean on the affair; the matter is as dark as ever, so -just see what you can make of it. Here are all the papers relating -to the business, reports and so forth, study them on the way and use -expedition.” - -“Monsieur will give me a free hand in the matter?” - -“Absolutely. And here is a thousand francs in gold; you may need money. -Order a carriage for the journey, and tell them not to spare the -horses. I am in a hurry for your report, find wings; but, above all, -find the criminal.” - -“Yes, monsieur. It will be a difficult matter. The poisoning of a -man is a simple affair, the evidence simply shouts round it for the -person who has ears to hear. A dog is different. But I will find the -criminal—unless——” - -“Unless?” - -“Unless, monsieur, the dog poisoned itself by eating some garbage.” - -“Oh, no. Atalanta was very delicate in her feeding. No, it was the work -of some scoundrel, of that I am sure.” - -“Well, monsieur, we will see,” said Lavenne. - -He bowed to the Minister of Police, and left the room. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -MONSIEUR BROMMARD - - -De Sartines had no need to urge expedition on Lavenne. Lavenne always -moved as quickly as possible between two points. After the King and -de Sartines, Lavenne was perhaps the best and most quickly served man -in France. The carriages of the Hôtel de Sartines were always ready -and never broke down, the horses of the Hôtel de Sartines never went -lame, the grooms, the veterinary surgeons, and the coachmen employed by -the Ministry of Police, were men who had been tried and tested, men, -moreover, who knew that drunkenness, insubordination or neglect would -be visited by imprisonment, not dismissal. - -The Minister of Police knew the value of speed, and since the safety of -France might depend upon the horses of the Minister of Police, he did -not boast when he made the statement that his horses were the swiftest -in France. - -In five minutes’ time, after giving the order, Lavenne was seated in -a closed carriage drawn by two powerful Mecklenburg horses, and the -carriage was leaving the courtyard of the Hôtel de Sartines and taking -its way towards the Faubourg St. Honoré. During the journey, Lavenne -studied the papers given to him by his master, pages and pages of -reports. One might have fancied that the matter had to do with the -assassination of an emperor, rather than the poisoning of a dog. - -Lavenne read the whole of these papers and reports carefully, and then, -folding them, placed them in his pocket. - -According to them, everyone possible in connection with Versailles, the -Trianons, and even with Luciennes, had been questioned and examined -without result. The whole thing seemed to Lavenne rather clumsy. This -questioning of individuals could bring little result. To the question, -“Did you poison the dog?” could come but one answer, “No.” And the -poisoner was unlikely to have acted in the presence of a witness. The -thing that did strike Lavenne as peculiar, was the fact that there had -been no accusations; it was just the case for false accusations, yet -there were none. - -At Versailles, having ordered the carriage to be kept in waiting, he -crossed the park to the Trianons. Arrived at the Grand Trianon, he -walked round to the kitchen entrance. Here there was great bustle -and movement, goods arriving from tradesmen in Versailles and being -received by the steward, scullions darting hither and thither, and -everyone talking. In the kitchen, it was the same. - -Lavenne knew everyone, or at least was known by everyone, especially -by Brommard, the master cook, who, magnificent in paper cap and white -apron, was directing operations. - -“Ah, Monsieur Lavenne,” said Brommard, “and what happy chance brings -you here to-day?” - -“Why, I had some business at the Petit Trianon, and I just walked -across to see if you were alive and well. _Ma foi_! Monsieur Brommard, -but you are not growing thinner these days.” - -Brommard heaved a sigh. - -“No, Monsieur Lavenne, I am not growing thinner, though if worry made -a man thin, I would be a rake, what between tradesmen who do not send -provisions in time and cooks who spoil them when they arrive. I have -to supervise everything, and I have only two eyes instead of the two -hundred that I require.” - -“Well, Monsieur Brommard, we all have our worries, even his Majesty, -who, I fear, is in trouble over the death of his favourite hound, -Atalanta.” - -Brommard made a motion with his hand. - -“Oh, _ma foi_! don’t speak to me about that business. Why, Monsieur -Lavenne, I was had up myself and questioned on the matter by Monsieur -de Sartines. As though I had poisoned the brute! I said to him, ‘I know -nothing of the matter, but since Atalanta was served every day at the -King’s table when he was at Versailles, she may have died of Ribot’s -cookery’; for Ribot, as you know, is now the chef at Versailles, a -gentleman who stole the recipe of my Sauce Noailles and gave it forth -under the name of Sauce à la Ribot. Put his name to my sauce! God’s -death, Monsieur Lavenne, a man who will steal another man’s sauce is -not above poisoning another man’s dog. Not that I accuse Ribot, poor -fool; he has not the spirit to poison a louse, and they say his wife -beats him with his own rolling-pin. I accuse him of nothing but theft -and stupidity, certainly not of poisoning his Majesty’s dog wilfully. -Besides, Monsieur Lavenne, the dog was not poisoned, in my opinion.” - -“Give us your opinion, Monsieur Brommard.” - -“Well, it is this way, Monsieur Lavenne—What does all cookery rest -on?” - -“I am sure I don’t know, unless it is the shoulders of the chef.” - -“No, Monsieur Lavenne, all cookery rests on an egg. The egg is the -atlas that supports the world of gastronomy, the chef is the slave -of the egg. Think, Monsieur Lavenne, what is the masterpiece of -French cookery, the dish that outlives all other dishes, the thing -that is found on his Majesty’s table no less than upon the tables -of the Bourgeoisie, the thing that is as French as a Frenchman, and -which expresses the spirit of our people as no other article of food -could express it—the Omelette. Could you make an Omelette without -breaking eggs? Aha! tell me that. Then cast your mind’s eye over this -extraordinary Monsieur Egg and all his antics and evolutions. Now he -permits himself to be boiled plain, and even like that, without frills, -naked and in a state of nature, he is excellent, for you will remember -that the Marquis de Noailles, when he was dying and almost past food, -called for what?—an egg, plainly boiled. - -“Now he consents to appear in all ways from poached to _perdu_—an -excellent recipe for which is to be found in my early edition of the -works of Taillevent, who, as you know, was master-cook to his Majesty -King Charles V. - -“Now he is the soul of a _vol-au-vent_, now of a sauce; not a pie-crust -fit to eat but stands by virtue of my lord the egg, and should all the -hens in the world commit suicide, to-morrow every chef in France worthy -of the name would fall on his spit, as Vatel fell on his sword, and -with more reason, for fish is but a course in a dinner, whereas the egg -is the cement that holds all the castle of cookery together.” - -“_Pardieu_, Monsieur Brommard,” said Lavenne, laughing, “you are -quite a philosopher, and I shall certainly take off my hat to the next -hen I meet. But, tell me, what has an egg to do with the poisoning of -Atalanta?” - -“Nothing, Monsieur Lavenne; God forbid that it should. I was about to -say that, just as all cookery stands on an egg, so does the whole world -stand on commonsense; and it is not commonsense to think that any man -would poison Atalanta, who was a gentle beast, on purpose to spite his -Majesty. Atalanta, in my opinion, poisoned herself. Dogs are not like -cats. If you will observe, a cat is very nice in her feeding. Offer her -even a piece of fish, and she will sniff it to make sure that it is in -good condition and not poisonous, before she will touch it. Whereas -dogs eat everything.” - -“Dogs eat roses,” said a small voice. - -It was Brommard’s little son, who, dressed in a white cap and apron, -was serving his apprenticeship as a scullion. He had drawn close to his -father, and had listened solemnly to the discourse about eggs. - -Brommard glanced down and laughed, then he excused himself for a moment -to supervise the work of one of the under-cooks, who was larding a fowl. - -“Oh,” said Lavenne, “dogs eat roses, do they? And how do you know?” - -“Monsieur,” said the child, “I have seen Atalanta, the beautiful dog -of his Majesty, snap at a rose. I told my father when they were saying -that Atalanta was poisoned, and I said that I had seen Atalanta eat a -rose, and that perhaps the rose had killed her, and he laughed. But -dogs do eat roses.” - -“And where did you see Atalanta eat this rose?” - -“It was near Les Onze Arpents, monsieur. A gentleman and a lady were -walking together, and he was holding a rose in his hand. The rose was -hanging down, so, and the dog, who was following them, sniffed at the -rose and then bit it.” - -“Yes—yes?” - -“Well, monsieur, the gentleman, when he saw what the dog had done, -threw the rose away behind his back into some bushes; the lady did not -see, she was talking and laughing.” - -“What day was this?” - -“The day before Atalanta died, monsieur.” - -“What was the gentleman like?” - -“Very ugly, monsieur, and pitted with the smallpox.” - -“And the lady?” - -“Oh, I don’t know, monsieur, but she walked with a limp.” - -“Ah, well,” said Lavenne, “dogs may eat roses, but roses do not poison -dogs; so I would advise you to forget what you saw, or the ugly -gentleman may be angry with you. You seem a bright boy, and here is -something to buy sweets with. You are learning to be a cook, I suppose?” - -“Monsieur,” said the child, gravely, “I am a cook. I can lard a fowl -and make an omelette and a mayonnaise, and I have committed to memory -the rules and recipes of twenty-three sauces out of the two hundred -and twenty-three that my father knows. Yet, all the same, I must serve -my apprenticeship as a scullion, cleaning pots and pans and preparing -vegetables and fish and game. But I do not grumble.” - -Little Brommard—destined to be the cook of Napoleon—put the coin -Lavenne had given him in his pocket, and, thanking the latter, went -off to supervise another scullion who was at work on some vegetables, -whilst Lavenne, bidding good-bye to Brommard _père_, took his departure. - -He took a side-path that led to the cottage of the chief gardener of -Trianon. - -That official happened to be in, and Lavenne invited him to put on his -hat and to come out for a moment’s conversation. - -“Well, Monsieur Lavenne, what can I do for you?” said the man, putting -on his coat as he came out, and latching the door behind him. - -“You can get a spade and take me to the place where you buried the dog -belonging to his Majesty. I see by the report that you were ordered to -bury it.” - -“You mean Atalanta, monsieur?” - -“The same.” - -The gardener, without a word, went to the tool-house by the cottage -and took out a spade, then, shouldering the spade, he led the way to a -clear space amidst some bushes. - -“Now,” said Lavenne, “dig me up the remains of the animal. I wish to -examine them.” - -The gardener did as he was told, and Lavenne, on his knees, made a -minute examination of the mouth of the dog. The body of the animal, -lying in a light, dry soil, showed no trace of putrefaction, being, so -the gardener said, as fresh as when he buried it. - -Lavenne, having finished his inspection, rose to his feet, dusted -the soil from his knees, and having paid the man liberally for his -trouble, took his way to where the carriage was waiting to convey him -back to Paris. On the journey, he made some notes with a pencil in his -pocket-book. - -He had discovered the poisoner of Atalanta. Led by the luck that -sometimes attends genius, or perhaps by the commonsense which made him -conduct his inquiry, not by direct interrogation, but by conversation -on things in general, he had accomplished in a few hours what Sartines -had failed to accomplish in several days. - -Arrived at the Hôtel de Sartines, he found his master absent and -Monsieur Beauregard acting in his stead. Beauregard was a big, -fine-looking man, one of the best swordsmen in France, fearless and -honest, but not of the highest intelligence as far as detective work -was concerned. Nor did Sartines use him for that business. Sartines -had made Beauregard his chief of staff because the latter had all the -qualities of a good organizer, the fidelity of a hound, and the rigid -business methods in which Sartines was lacking. He was also a fine -figure of a man, and so upheld the dignity of his position in the eyes -of the Court and the populace. - -Beauregard was a great friend of Lavenne. - -“So his Excellency is out,” said Lavenne. “Well, that is a pity, as I -have some news for him, and a request to make.” - -“And the news?” said Beauregard. - -“The news is, simply that I have found an indication as to the poisoner -of Atalanta.” - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_! My dear Lavenne, if you can only put your finger on -that person, you will own the thanks of the entire staff. It is not -that a dog has been poisoned, or that the dog is the favourite dog of -the King, or rather, I should say, was the favourite dog of the King. -It is that the Hôtel de Sartines has been put to shame by a small -matter like this. Other failures one can hush up; other failures, -though, indeed, we make few enough, are forgotten; but the smell of -this business seems to permeate everywhere; and the thing will not be -forgotten, simply because it is so small that it gives such a splendid -field for the little wits of Paris and the Court to exercise themselves -in.” - -“Well, Captain Beauregard,” said Lavenne, “the poisoning of Atalanta, -though seemingly a small enough affair, will, if I am not greatly -mistaken, be the centre of an affair big enough to satisfy even the -Hôtel de Sartines. I hope to put my hand on the poisoner, and in doing -so to clear Monsieur de Rochefort from the charge of being an assassin, -and also I hope to save a woman’s life.” - -“_Mordieu_!” said Beauregard, “you are going to do a great many clever -things, then—— Tell me, am I in your secret?” - -“Why, yes, I don’t mind letting you know what is in my mind, though you -know how I hate telling of what I propose to do or propose to find. As -a matter of fact, you are the only man in France to whom I can talk, -and yet feel that I have not lost energy in so doing; for it is a -strange thing, but once one opens one’s mind to an ordinary person, a -blight seems to creep in on the precious thoughts, hopes or ambitions -that one cherishes in darkness. And I will tell you why it is different -with you. You do not criticize or throw doubts upon budding fancies. -Were I to open my mind to Monsieur de Sartines quite fully, he would -put his hand in and take out my most precious thoughts, turn them over, -criticize them, throw cold water upon them, perhaps, and put them -back—then they would be dying—or dead.” - -“I do not criticize you, Lavenne, because I have a lively feeling that -any criticism of mine would be an impertinence, at least on the work -of so close a reasoner as you are. Tell me, then, and I will repeat -nothing—Who was the poisoner of Atalanta?” - -“Count Camus.” - -Beauregard whistled. - -“And who is the lady whose life you are going to save?” - -“The Comtesse Camus.” - -“The man’s wife?” - -“Precisely.” - -“Good God!—and how is it threatened?” - -“By poison.” - -“And who is the prospective poisoner?” - -“Count Camus.” - -“Just heavens! Tell me, for I am vastly interested, how you found this -out?” - -“A few days ago—or, to be more precise, the day after Count Camus had -returned from a hunting expedition with Monsieur de Rochefort, he was -walking with his wife in the grounds of Trianon. He had brought with -him a prepared rose.” - -“A prepared rose?” - -“A rose poisoned with one of those subtle poisons, whose secret was -brought to France by the Italians in the time of King Charles IX. Once -prepared, these roses have to be kept under cover, enclosed in a box. -So kept, their virtue, or rather their vice, remains unimpaired for a -considerable time, but once removed from the box, it disappears in the -course of a few hours.” - -“Yes, yes, but what is their power, and how is it used?” - -“Quite simply. The person who smells the perfume of the rose dies.” - -“Dies, simply from the perfume?” - -“Absolutely, and as certainly as though he had drunk the Aqua Tofana of -the Florentines.” - -“Go on.” - -“Well, our man, walking with his wife in the grounds of the Trianon -close to Les Onze Arpents, took this rose from its box unseen by his -companion, and carrying it very gingerly, you may be sure, by the tip -of the stalk with the flower hanging downwards, was about to present -it laughingly to her, when Atalanta, who was following them, out of -caprice, or playfulness, or perhaps attracted by something in the scent -of the flower, made a snap at it. Camus, on feeling what had happened, -threw the ruined flower away behind his back into some bushes—and -Atalanta paid the penalty instead of the lady.” - -“You are sure of this?” - -“Absolutely.” - -“Can you prove it against the Count?” - -“Not in the least. Or, that is to say, not effectually. I could cover -him with suspicion, but that is useless.” - -“How, then, do you propose to proceed?” - -“Ah, my dear captain, if I were to tell you that, I would tell you what -I don’t exactly know.” - -“You don’t know what you are going to do?” - -“Pardon me. I do, but not in an exact manner. But I will tell you this. -My first move is to get into the house of Count Camus.” - -“On a warrant from de Sartines?” - -“Heavens, no, as a servant. We have a man in all the important houses, -and I believe one in the house of the Count.” - -“Certainly we have. You know that Sartines suspects him, and where -suspicion goes there our servants go also. Stay.” He rang a bell. - -When a clerk answered the summons, he gave him an order, and the clerk -returned in a few minutes with a huge book, bound in vellum and with a -brass lock. - -Beauregard took a bunch of keys from his pocket, selected one and -opened the book. - -He turned to the pages marked C, and ran his finger down the first -column for the space of three inches. - -“Yes. Jumeau is acting as pantry-man in the service of the Count.” - -“He is almost useless,” said Lavenne; “but let us be thankful that -he is there. Now let us send at once, and tell him that his mother -is dying and that he must come at once; his cousin—that is to say, -myself—is ready to take on his duties. As the cousin, I will take the -message myself. I have just left the service of Monsieur—shall we say, -Monsieur Gaston Le Roux?—he belongs to us. You will send a man round -to him at once for a testimonial. The pantry-man’s duty is to look -after the plate, to clean it, keep it in order, be responsible for it, -and to do a few light duties.” - -“Very well,” said Beauregard, “all that shall be done.” - -“And now,” said Lavenne, “I must go and dress for the part, and in an -hour, when the testimonial arrives, I will be ready. Let it be dated -last month, and let it be for two years’ service. I may not even want -it at all; they will be very glad, I should think, to accept Jumeau’s -cousin’s service whilst Jumeau is seeing after his sick mother, and so -save themselves the trouble of doing without a servant or hunting for -one. Still, it is as well to be prepared at all points.” - -“Yes, you are right,” said Beauregard. “Well, good luck to you.” - -Lavenne took his departure and hurried round to his rooms in the Rue -Picpus. It was now seven o’clock in the evening. It had been a busy day -for him, but the work of that day was not over yet. When he arrived at -the house in the Rue Picpus, he found someone waiting for him. It was -Javotte. - -“Monsieur,” said Javotte, “when I spoke to you this morning, I did -not tell you quite all that I knew about the affairs of Monsieur de -Rochefort. There was something I held back, and I would like to tell -you it now.” - -“Come in,” said Lavenne, with a smile. The eternal feminine was the -same in his day as ours—that is to say, it might be summed up in the -same words: “The animal with a postscript.” - - - - -CHAPTER III - -CHOISEUL’S LETTER - - -Lavenne inhabited very modest apartments in the Rue Picpus, a street -of that old Paris which, always dying and vanishing, never seems quite -to die, which showed the towers of Philip Augustus to the people who -lived in the time of Charles V. and the old houses of Louis XI. to -the subjects of Louis XV., which shows, even to-day, glimpses of the -remotest past in odd corners left unswept by the tide of Time. - -The room into which he ushered Javotte was as old as the street and -house that contained it. Beamed and wainscoted, its only furniture -a few chairs, a table, a stove and a number of volumes piled on a -shelf, it had, still, a fairly comfortable appearance. Rooms have -personalities, and there are some rooms tolerable to live in even when -stripped almost bare of furniture, others intolerable, furnish them how -you please. Lavenne’s belonged to the first order. - -He took his seat at the table, pointed out a chair to Javotte, and -ordered her in a good-humoured way to be quick with her business, as he -had a pressing matter on hand. - -“It is this way, monsieur,” said Javotte. “I did not tell you all this -morning, simply because what I left untold relates to an affair of -which I am rather ashamed in one way, and not the least ashamed of in -another.” - -“And this affair?” - -“Relates to the opening of a letter addressed by Monsieur de Choiseul -to a lady in Compiègne.” - -“And who opened the letter?” - -“I did, monsieur.” - -“And how did it fall into your hands?” - -Javotte explained how Rochefort had found it in the saddle-bag of the -horse he had used in his escape from Versailles. - -“He would not open it himself, monsieur. He gave it to me to deliver to -the lady at Compiègne; when I said to him, ‘Monsieur de Choiseul would -open the letter were it one of yours,’ he only replied—‘You see, I am -not Monsieur de Choiseul, but simply Monsieur de Rochefort.’ That was -the reply of a great noble; but I, monsieur, am simply a servant, and, -what is more, the servant of Monsieur de Rochefort’s interests, seeing -that he saved me from those men of Monsieur de Choiseul, who might have -killed me. I do not love Monsieur de Choiseul and——” - -“You do love Monsieur de Rochefort,” finished Lavenne, with a laugh. - -Javotte flushed, her eyes sparkled, as though the words had been an -insult, then she calmed down. - -“Perhaps you are right, monsieur, perhaps you are wrong. In any case, -my feelings have nothing to do with the matter.” - -“Pardon me,” said Lavenne, “you are right. I have been indiscreet. Let -us forget it—and accept my apology. Now, as to this letter. May I ask -you to tell me its contents?” - -“I can do better, monsieur, I can show you the letter itself.” - -She took the letter from her breast and handed it to Lavenne, who -spread it open on the table before him and began to read, his elbows -upon the table and his head between the palms of his hands. - -It was a terrible document for Choiseul to have put his name to. -Written in a moment of fury immediately after the presentation of -Madame Dubarry, it consisted of only twelve lines. Yet it told of the -failure of his plot against Dubarry, and it spoke of the King in a -sentence that was at once indecent and almost treasonable. - -“_Mordieu_!” said Lavenne. “What a letter! What a letter! What a -letter!” He glanced at the back of it, then he cast his eyes again over -the contents. - -It will be remembered that Choiseul was the enemy of Sartines, and -that the overthrow of Choiseul was, at that moment, the central desire -of the heart of Sartines. Lavenne knew this fact, and he knew that -the weapon lying before him on the table was of so deadly a nature, -that were he to hand it to his master, both honour and money would be -handed to him in return; he was no opportunist, however, nor could the -prospects of personal advantage blind him to the fact that the weapon -before him on the table was not his to sell. It belonged to Javotte. To -serve Rochefort, she had sullied her integrity by opening Choiseul’s -letter; trusting to Lavenne, she had brought him the letter, and not -a man, perhaps, in the Hôtel de Sartines other than Lavenne but would -have put her off with promises or threats and carried the letter to his -master, after the fashion of a dog retrieving game. - -But Lavenne was not a common man. With a villain, he would use every -art and subtlety; but with the straightforward and simple, he was -always honest and straightforward. Your modern police or political -agent is supposed to be a man who excels in his profession according -to his capacity for the detection of crime; this is but a half truth, -for the detection of innocence is just as important to the police -agent, and to feel the innocence in others one requires a mind that can -attune itself to innocence as well as to villainy. A mind, in other -words, that can keep its freshness, even though its possessor dwells on -the dust-heap of crime. - -Lavenne could not betray Javotte over this matter without running -contrary to his nature. He recognized at once that this weapon, when -it was used, would have to be used in defence of Rochefort, not in -furtherance of the desires of Sartines. He recognized, also, that with -this weapon both purposes might be served; Rochefort might be defended -and Sartines’ ambition furthered at the same stroke. But the time had -not yet come, and even when it did arrive, this lethal instrument -would require to be used by a master hand. Turning to Javotte, he gave -her, in the course of five minutes, his whole opinion on the business, -showing her his whole mind on the matter with a frankness which she -knew by instinct to be genuine. - -“And you will keep that letter, then, monsieur?” - -“With your permission, I will keep it, and I will use it, if use it I -must, to further the interests both of Monsieur de Rochefort and of my -master. But I promise you, it shall be used in Monsieur de Rochefort’s -interests first.” - -“Very well, then, monsieur,” replied Javotte. “I will leave it with -you.” - -Then she took her departure, and Lavenne, placing the letter in a -secret compartment of the panelling, began to dress for the part he was -to play in the household of Count Camus. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE DECLARATION OF CAMUS - - -Javotte, when she left the Rue Picpus, took her way to the Rue de -Valois. It will be remembered that Camille Fontrailles had slept at the -Dubarrys’ house in the Rue de Valois, and as Javotte was now in her -service, she had to follow her mistress. - -Immediately on Rochefort quitting her that morning, she had gone to the -Rue de Valois, helped her mistress to dress, and then slipped out on -her mission to Rochefort’s rooms, where she had first met Lavenne. - -Troubled in mind at not having made a clear breast of the affair about -Choiseul’s letter, and feeling sure that Lavenne would be the best -person to help Rochefort in that matter, she had slipped out again at -half-past six. She was now returning to help her mistress to dress for -the evening. - -An ordinary girl, knowing that the Dubarrys were the enemies of -Choiseul, would have put the letter in their hands; but Javotte had a -mind of her own, and a knowledge of Court life, and the Dubarrys in -particular, which prevented her from putting the slightest trust in any -person belonging to the Court, and more especially in the Dubarrys. - -She knew that were they to use the letter against Choiseul, they would -do so in their own interests, not in the interests of Rochefort. How -right she was in this, we shall presently see. - -When she arrived at the Hôtel Dubarry, she found the house _en fête_. -The Countess was not there, she was still at Versailles, but Chon and -Jean were in evidence, and they were receiving friends to supper; and -amongst those friends, who should be first and foremost but Count -Camus. The man who had engineered, or partly engineered, the plot -against the presentation was among the first to call on Jean that day -to congratulate him on the success of the Countess. Jean had received -him with open arms. Nothing pleased Jean better now than to smooth -things over, and make up to the Choiseul faction. The Countess had -triumphed; she had beaten Choiseul, and she would break him. The duel -was not over by any means, but she had scored the first hit, and it was -politic to smile on Choiseul and his followers, just as Choiseul and -his followers had found it politic to kiss her hand on the night of her -triumph. - -“Come to supper this evening, my dear fellow,” said Jean. “I am -expecting one or two people. Madame de Duras and a few others. Have I -heard about Rochefort?—no, what about him?” - -Camus told, in a few words, of Rochefort’s crimes, and of how he had -escaped the night before just as he, Camus, had laid his hand upon him -in the name of Choiseul. - -“I always said he was a mad fool,” replied Jean; “and has he escaped -for good?” - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_, no,” said Camus, “not whilst there is a frontier. -Choiseul is scouring the roads, Paris is watched, and a reward of a -thousand louis is offered for him, dead or alive.” - -“Well, if he is taken dead, we will be saved from his future -_gasconades_,” said Jean. - -“I would sooner he were taken alive,” replied Camus, “for I have a very -particular desire to see that gentleman hanged; and hanged he will be, -if I know anything of the mind of Choiseul.” - -Jean Dubarry showed Camus out, and opened the door for him with his own -hand. He would not have minded the hanging of Rochefort in the least, -if Rochefort could only be hanged before he could speak his mind and -tell his tale; but he greatly dreaded the catching of Rochefort by -Choiseul, and comforted himself with the thought that Rochefort must -now be in the safe custody of the governor of Vincennes. - -At eight o’clock, the first of the guests arrived in the person of -Madame de Duras. Chon Dubarry and Camille Fontrailles were waiting to -receive her, and Jean entered just as Camus was announced; on the heels -of Camus came M. de Joyeuse, a young fop and spendthrift, and scarcely -had he entered when the wheels of Madame d’Harlancourt’s carriage were -heard in the courtyard. She came in with M. d’Estouteville, whom she -had brought with her. - -Jean Dubarry was as pleased to receive d’Estouteville as he had been -to welcome Camus. Nothing could underscore the Countess’s success -more deeply than the evident anxiety of these members of the Choiseul -faction to be well with her. - -“_Mordieu_!” said Jean to himself, “Choiseul himself will be coming -next—well, let us wait and see.” - -He was in the highest spirits, complimenting Madame d’Harlancourt on -her appearance, jesting with Joyeuse, with a word for everyone except -Camus, who was deep in conversation with Camille Fontrailles. - -“Ah, mademoiselle,” Camus was saying, “it seems an age since I met you -at Monsieur de Choiseul’s, and yet, by the almanac, it was only the -other night.” - -“Why, monsieur, since that night so many things have happened, that the -time may well seem long—the Presentation, for instance.” - -“Ah, yes, the Presentation,” said Camus, with a laugh. “We have all -been deeply absorbed by that event.” - -“Deeply,” said Camille. - -“You are a friend of the Countess, mademoiselle?” - -“Absolutely, monsieur.” - -“Well,” said Camus, with an air of the greatest ingenuousness, “I have -not been her friend. I have never been her enemy, still, I must confess -I have not been her friend in the strict sense of the word. Court life -is like a game of chess, and I daresay you are aware that, during the -last few days, a great game of chess has been going forward between my -friend Choiseul and the Countess. I was on Choiseul’s side all through -it; I even helped in some of the moves. She won, and I must say her -courage has made me her admirer.” - -“And not her friend?” - -“Mademoiselle, I am the friend of Monsieur de Choiseul, and I do not -easily separate myself from my friends. Still, I am content to remain -his friend, and yet to stand aside and take no part in any further move -that he may make against the Countess.” - -“And why, monsieur, do you impose this inaction upon yourself?” - -“Simply for this reason. I cannot take an active part in any move -against a person who is a friend of yours.” - -“And why not, monsieur?” - -“Ah, you ask me a question now that is very difficult to answer.” - -“How so?” - -“Because the reply may make you angry.” - -“Then you had better not answer the question, monsieur.” - -“On the contrary, it is better to say what is in my mind, since to -leave it unsaid would be an act of cowardice, and it is better that we -should both know a secret that is tormenting me like fire. I cannot act -against a friend of yours, simply for this reason—I have learned to -love you.” - -He had risen before finishing the sentence, and at the last word, -bowing profoundly, he moved away to where Jean, de Joyeuse and Madame -d’Harlancourt were talking together, and joined in their conversation. -Camille followed him with her eyes. He had attracted her at the ball, -his action against Madame Dubarry had turned her against him, his -frank confession of the part he had taken had somewhat modified her -resentment, his declaration that in future he would remain neutral had -modified it still more; his declaration of love had stunned her. - -He was a married man. - -The thing amounted to an insult, yet she did not feel insulted, nor did -she feel angry; her being was stirred to its depths for the first time -in her life. Unconscious of the fact that a declaration of love from -Camus had about as much meaning as a declaration of pity from a tiger, -or perhaps half-conscious of it, she was held now by the mesmerism of -the man, and sat watching him as he conversed with the others; till -Madame de Duras, coming up to her, broke the spell. - -At supper, her eyes kept continually meeting those of Camus, and she -was half conscious of the fact that a wordless conversation was going -on between her almost unwilling mind and the mind of the Count. - -Men like Camus do most of their murderous work against women without -speech. They have the art of making women think about them, and they -know that they have the art. - -Camus all that evening kept aloof from the girl to whom he had made his -declaration of love. He wore a brooding and meditative air at times. He -knew that she was observing him closely, and he acted the part of the -eternal lover to perfection. - -Yet, despite his acting, he was desperately in earnest. - -When the card-tables were being set out, it was found that Camille had -vanished from the room. She did not appear again that night. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE HOUSE OF COUNT CAMUS - - -Meanwhile, Lavenne, when Javotte had taken her departure, set out on -the business of dressing himself for the part he was about to perform. -In a cupboard opening off his bedroom he had all sorts of disguises, -from the dress of an abbé to the rags of a beggar-man. He was a master -in the art of disguise, and knew quite well that every profession and -station in life has its voice and manner and walk, as well as its -dress; that dress, in fact, is only part of the business of disguise, -deportment, manner and voice being equally essential, and even perhaps -more so. - -In fifteen minutes, or less, he had converted himself into a perfect -representation of a servant out of a place, slightly seedy, and seeking -a situation. Then, having glanced round his rooms to see that all was -in order, he locked his door, put the key in his pocket and started for -the Hôtel de Sartines. Here he received the written character, which -had been prepared for him under the name of Jouve, and he started for -Camus’ house in the Rue du Trône. - -It was a large house, decorated in the Italian style, and the -_concierge_, who opened to Lavenne’s ring, did not receive him too -civilly; but he passed him on to the kitchen premises, and here -Lavenne, finding Jumeau, gave him the news of his mother’s mortal -illness; and the distress of Jumeau was so well done and so natural, -that Lavenne formed a better opinion of his capabilities than he had -hitherto held, and made a mental note of the fact, afterwards to be -incorporated in a report to de Sartines. - -Jumeau, having dried his eyes, took Lavenne down a passage and, -lighting a candle, drew him into the small bedroom which he occupied, -and which was situated immediately beside the plate pantry. Jumeau had -not only to clean the plate, but to act as a watchdog at night in case -of thieves. - -When the bedroom door was closed, Lavenne turned to Jumeau: - -“Have you anything to report?” - -“No, Monsieur Lavenne, nothing political at all has taken place in the -house. Monsieur de Sartines told me to be especially watchful of any -friends of Monsieur de Choiseul, or messengers, and to do my utmost -to intercept any letter from the Duc. Not a scrap of paper of that -description have I seen.” - -“Well, you have done your duty evidently with care, and I shall note -that in my report. I have come to take your place, as you guessed -by this; so now take yourself off to the major-domo, get leave of -absence to see your mother, and say that your cousin, Charles Jouve, is -prepared to take your place, that he is an excellent servant, and has -the highest testimonials; then come back here and tell me what he says.” - -“Yes, Monsieur Lavenne.” - -“What sort of a man is this major-domo, and what is his name?” - -“His name is Brujon, Monsieur Lavenne, and he is rather stupid, fond -of talk, and very fond of his glass of wine.” - -“Good! He is a gossip?” - -“You may say that.” - -“Well, off you go; and use all your wits, now, so that he may accept me -in your place.” - -Jumeau left the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and Lavenne sat -on the bed waiting his return, and glancing about him at the poorly -furnished room, dimly lit by a candle tufted with a “letter,” like a -miniature cauliflower. - -In five minutes, Jumeau returned. - -“Well,” said Lavenne, “what luck?” - -“The best, Monsieur Lavenne. He is in a good humour. He asked me all -sorts of questions as to my mother, spoke of filial duty and gave me -leave of absence for three days. He wishes to see you.” - -Lavenne rose from the bed. - -“Let us go at once, then,” said he, “before his good-humour changes. -Lead the way, introduce me to him, and then say nothing more. I will do -the talking.” - -They left the room. - -Monsieur Brujon’s office was situated on the same floor, that is to -say, the basement. - -It was a fairly large room, with an old bureau in one corner, where -Monsieur Brujon kept his receipted bills, his correspondence, his -keys and a hundred odds and ends that had no place in a bureau; old -playbills, ballades, wine labels, a questionable book or two, corks, -shoe-buckles and so forth. - -He was a character, Monsieur Brujon. Untidy as his bureau, stout, -rubicund, with a fatherly manner and an eye for a pretty girl, he was a -fine example of the old French servant that flourished in feudal times, -the servant who became a part of the family, drank his master’s wine, -knew his master’s secrets, and through other servants of his kind the -secrets of half the town or countryside where he lived. - -“Ah,” said Brujon, “this is the young man who has come to take your -place. He has some knowledge of his work, then?” - -“Yes, monsieur.” - -“In whose service did you say he was last?” - -“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “I was in the service of Monsieur Le Roux, -and to expedite matters, I have brought with me the testimonial that he -gave me on my leaving him?” - -“And why did you leave him?” - -“Oh, monsieur,” said Lavenne, remembering Monsieur Brujon’s instinct -for gossip, “it was not that he had any fault to find with me, or I -with him; it was on account of madame.” - -“Eh, madame! Had she a temper, then?” - -“It was not her temper so much as other things, monsieur.” - -Monsieur Brujon read the testimonial and expressed himself satisfied, -told Jumeau that he might take his departure, and Lavenne that he might -remain; then when the door was shut, he turned to the new-comer. - -“Well,” said he, “what was the matter with madame?” - -When Lavenne had finished his revelations, M. Brujon, chuckling and -gloating, rose to conduct the new-comer round the house, so that he -might have the lie of the premises. He took him through the basement, -showed him the kitchen, the plate pantry, the room he was to occupy by -the pantry, and the other offices. Then upstairs, that the new servant -might see the dining-room, to which it was his duty to convey the -plate. As they went on their way, Brujon conversed, and Lavenne, who -had already taken the measure of his man, led the talk to Camus. - -“I need not hide it from you,” said he, “that I look on it as a feather -in my cap taking service, even for a short time, under your master. I -have heard much about him; it is even said that his cleverness is so -great that he knows Arabic and all the secrets of the East.” - -“You may well say that,” replied Brujon, pompously, “not only is he of -one of the oldest families, but he has here—” and he tapped his empty -forehead—“what all the others have not got. I, who know him so well, -and whom he trusts, can speak of that.” - -“_Ma foi_!” said Lavenne, in an awed voice, “is it a fact, then, that -he is an alchemist?” - -Brujon pursed out his lips as he closed the door of the dining-room, -having shown the place to his companion. “It is not for me to say -anything of his secrets, but I can tell you this, he is clever enough -to put Monsieur Mesmer in his pocket.” - -“_Mon Dieu_! but he must be even a greater man than I thought, and to -think that you have seen him at work, perhaps. Why, it would frighten -me to death—and where does he do these wonderful things?” - -“Come here,” said Brujon. - -He led the way down the corridor, leading from the dining-room, paused -at a door, took a bunch of keys from his pocket, and, choosing a key, -opened the door. - -The lamp which he was carrying disclosed a room lined with shelves -containing bottles, glass cupboards containing bottles and flasks stood -in the corners, and in the centre, on a heavy bench-like table, were -more bottles, some retorts, and a lamp. Heavy red curtains hung before -the window. - -It was a chemist’s laboratory. - -“This is the room where my master works,” said Brujon, “he and I only -have access to it. I am exceeding my duties, even, in showing it to -you; though, indeed, he has never given me orders on that matter. Now -you may see the truth of what I say—but never say that you have seen -it.” - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_, no! The place frightens me. You see, I am not clever -like you, Monsieur Brujon; indeed, all my schooling taught me was just -to repeat the _Credo_, and to read a few words of print.” - -“Well, if it taught you also to hold your tongue,” replied the most -inveterate gossip in Paris, “it has taught you enough to make you a -good servant. Well, it is now time for bed. You know your duties, and -should any noise awaken you in the night, your first thought will be -of the plate under your keeping. You will give the alarm, call me and -hold the thief should you be able to seize him. But I may tell you at -once that there is little need of fear. All the doors are impossible -to open, there are no windows on the ground floor, and there is always -a watchman in the courtyard. Still, it is your duty to be on the _qui -vive_.” - -“You may trust that I will do my duty, Monsieur Brujon; and now, where -is your bedroom, so that, in the event of anything happening, I may -call you?” - -“I will show you,” replied Brujon. - -He led the way downstairs and showed the room, which was situated off -the same passage as that on which Lavenne’s opened. - -“The menservants sleep in the basement, the maids under the roof,” said -Brujon, with a fat smile. - -He bade good-night to the new man and shuffled off to his office, -whilst Lavenne retired to his room. Lavenne had a theory that every -mind is like a safe in this particular: that the strongest safe can be -picked if only the locksmith is clever enough. He knew that to get at -a man’s secrets all questioning is useless, unless you bring your mind -in tune with his. He knew that men run in tribes, and that there is a -quite unconscious freemasonry between members of the same tribe. - -His instinct told him the tribe to which M. Brujon belonged, and his -marvellous power of adaptability made him for the moment a member of -the same tribe. In short, his scandalous stories about the unfortunate -Madame Le Roux had put him at once _en rapport_ with the jovial, -easy-going, scandal-loving and eminently Gallic mind of M. Brujon. - -That mind had opened without any difficulty to the skilful pick-lock, -giving up the fact as to the situation of the room where his master -busied himself with his strange chemistry. - -Lavenne had captured the situation of the room; it was now his -business, and a much more difficult business, to capture the key, or, -failing that, to pick the lock. He had brought with him an instrument -similar to the old _crochet_ used by the burglars of France ever since -the time of the Coquillards—the instrument that is used still under -the name of the Nightingale. With this he could unlock and lock a door -as easily as with a key. It remained to be seen whether the door of -Camus’ room could be opened by this means. - -He blew out the candle, lay down on the bed, and closing his eyes -began, as a pastime, to review the whole situation. - -It was a difficult situation enough. If Camus caught him in the act -of making an examination of his room, Camus would certainly kill him, -unless he killed Camus. Even in the latter event he would almost -certainly be lost, unless he could make his escape, which was very -unlikely. For if he killed Count Camus in his own house, he would, if -caught, be most certainly hanged by de Sartines; it being the unwritten -law of the Hôtel de Sartines that an agent caught on a business of -this sort must never reveal his identity, or seek protection from the -Law which employed him, suffering even death, if necessary, in the -execution of his duty. - -But this consideration did not deflect our man a hair’s-breadth from -the course he had mapped out for himself. The thing that was now -occupying his mind was the room itself, of which he had caught a -glimpse, its contents and its possible secrets. - -It was the dark centre of Camus’ life, the depository, without doubt, -of his secrets. What he would find there in the way of written or other -evidence, Lavenne did not know; of how he would prosecute his search, -he had no definite plan; yet he knew that here was the only place -where Justice might rest her lever as on a fulcrum, and with one swift -movement send the Poisoner crashing to the pit that awaited him. - -As he lay in the darkness revolving these matters in his mind, he heard -the great clock of the Hôtel chiming the hour of eleven. He determined -to wait till midnight. Jumeau had told him that Camus had gone to the -Hôtel Dubarry and would not be home, most likely, till the small hours, -if then. - -Lavenne felt that he had the whole night before him, unconscious of -the fact that Camus’ hour of return that night was not at all to be -counted on, simply for the reason that Camus, when Camille Fontrailles -left the party, had become restless, and though he had taken his place -at the card-table, showed such absence of mind that Luck, who hates a -cold lover, declared herself dead against him. - -Meanwhile Monsieur Brujon retired to rest, but not before sending a -special messenger to Monsieur Gaston Le Roux with a note, enclosing the -testimonial, and an inquiry as to whether the man mentioned in it was -to be trusted. - -M. Le Roux’s reply consisted of only one word, “Absolutely.” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE LABORATORY - - -At twelve o’clock, Lavenne, slipping from the bed, felt in his pockets -to make sure that the _crochet_, the tinder-box and steel and the three -special candles which he had brought with him, short and thick like -modern night-lights, were to hand. Then he opened his door. - -The passage was in black darkness, yet he felt sure of finding his way. -He had noted the length of the passage, the position of the doors, -and the position of the staircase leading to the upper floor; he had -counted the number of steps in the stairs, the form of the landing -to which they led was mapped in his mind, and also the point in the -landing from which opened the passage leading to the dining-room -corridor and to the laboratory of Camus. - -He closed the door of the bedroom carefully, and groping his way, -passed down the passage to the stairs. The stairs creaked under his -foot, some stairways seem to creak the louder the more softly they are -trodden on. Lavenne knew this idiosyncrasy and went boldly, reached the -landing, found the passage to the dining-room corridor, and in a moment -more was spreading his fingers on the door of Camus’ private room in -search of the key-hole. - -Then, taking the _crochet_ from his pocket, he inserted it in the lock. - -Lavenne possessed a vast fund of special knowledge without which, -despite his genius and fertility of resource, he would have been lost -a hundred times in the course of a year. Not only had he a quick -mind to receive knowledge, he had also a memory to retain it. Again, -that kindness and rectitude of spirit which made so many men his -friends, opened for him a living library in the Hôtel de Sartines. -For instance, he had learned much of the science of Cryptography from -Fremin. Jondret, who would certainly have been hanged some day as a -housebreaker, had not de Sartines recognized his genius and drawn him -into the police, had taught him the science of picking locks, whilst -Cabuchon, a little old man, who in the year 1767 had placed his dirty -forefinger on the poisoner of M. Terell, the haberdasher of the Rue St. -Honoré, had taught him many of the tricks of poisoners. - -The art of poisoning, first studied in Europe seriously by the -Italians, had been imported into France in the days of the infamous -Catherine de Medicis. The Revolution put its heel definitely on the -last remnants of this fine product of the Middle Ages, but in the time -of the fifteenth Louis there were still a few practitioners of the -business, as witness the case of M. Terell poisoned by a candle. - -Cabuchon had disclosed many of the secrets of this horrible science to -the eager Lavenne. He had not only given him considerable knowledge of -the methods used by the practitioners of the Italian art, such as the -poisoning of gloves and flowers, but he had also given his pupil an -insight into the psychology of the poisoner who uses recondite means, -showing clearly and by instance that these people develop a passion -for the business, and are sometimes held under the sway and fascination -of the demon who presides over it so firmly that they will poison their -fellow men and women for the slightest reason, and sometimes for no -perceptible reason at all. - -It was this knowledge derived from Cabuchon that disclosed to Lavenne -at one stroke the poisoner of Atalanta, and the intending poisoner of -Madame Camus. - -It was the knowledge derived from Jondret that was now guiding his -dexterous hand in the use of the _crochet_. Feeling and exploring the -wards, examining the construction of the lock, using the delicacy -and gentleness of a surgeon who is probing a wound, he worked, till, -assured of the mechanism, with a powerful and sudden turn of the wrist -he forced the bolt back and the door was open. - -He entered the room, shut the door, and proceeded to examine the lock. -The bolt was a spring bolt, that is to say, that whilst it required a -key to open, it required none to lock it again. He pressed the door to, -and it closed with a click scarcely audible and speaking well for the -perfection of the mechanism. - -Then he struck a spark from the tinder and steel, and lit one of his -candles. The lamp was standing on the table, but he would have nothing -to do with it. It was necessary to be prepared for instant concealment -should anyone arrive to interrupt him, and a lamp takes a perceptible -time to extinguish. He placed the lighted candle on the table, and -turned to the curtains hiding the window. They were of heavy corded -silk, and there was space enough behind them for a man to hide if -necessary. Sure of the fact, he turned again to the table. He scarcely -glanced at the bottles and retorts upon it; hastily, yet thoroughly, -he examined it for drawers or secret compartments, but the table was -solid throughout, made of English oak, roughly constructed and showing -no sign of the French cabinet-makers’ art. - -Leaving the table, he examined the cabinets in the corners of the -room. They held nothing but the bottles and retorts visible through -their glass doors. He examined the walls for concealed cupboards and -_caches_, auscultating them here and there, just as a physician sounds -the chest of a patient nowadays. But the walls made no response, they -were of solid stone behind the stucco. He turned his attention to the -flooring, sounding the solid parquet here and there, and had reached to -a spot halfway between the table and the window-curtains, when a hollow -note gave answer to his knock, a deep, resonant note, showing that a -fairly large area of floor space was involved. He was going on both -knees to examine this space more carefully when a step sounded in the -corridor outside, a key was put into the lock of the door; and Lavenne, -who, at the first sound of the step had blown out the candle, placed it -in his pocket and whipped behind the curtains veiling the window. - -It was Camus. He entered, lamp in hand, closed the door, placed the -lamp on the table, and from it lit the other lamp. The Count evidently -required plenty of light this evening, either to assist his thoughts or -his studies. Lavenne, behind the curtains, had a good view of the room, -its occupant, the table, the walls leading to the door and the door -itself. - -Camus, turning from the table, began to pace the floor. He seemed -plunged in deep thought as he walked up and down, his hands behind his -back, his head bent, the light now striking his face, now his hands -knotted together, delicate yet powerful hands, remarkable, had you -examined them closely, for the size of the thumbs. - -Could you imagine yourself in the room with a man-eating tiger, and -nothing separating you in the way of barrier but a curtain, you would -feel somewhat as Lavenne felt alone thus with Count Camus. Looking -through the small space between the curtains, he noted for the first -time fully the powerful build of the man. - -Camus, unconscious that he was being watched, continued to pace the -floor. Then, pausing before one of the corner cupboards, he took a -key from his pocket, opened the cupboard and drew out a wooden stand, -holding two narrow tubes shaped like test-tubes. The tubes were corked, -and one was half-filled with a violet-coloured solution, the other with -a crystal-clear white liquid. - -Camus closed the cupboard door with his left hand, and carrying the -tubes carefully placed them and the stand containing them on the table. -Then going to another cupboard, he took from it an object which held -the watcher behind the curtain fascinated as he gazed on it. It was a -mask made of glass, with black ribbons attached at the edge, so that it -could be tied securely to the head of the wearer, the ribbons passing -above and below the ears. - -“Ah ha!” said Lavenne to himself, “we are going to see something now.” - -He watched whilst Camus, having placed the mask on the table, went to -the cupboard and produced a glass slab, a rod of glass and a small -brush of camel-hair, such as artists use for water-colour painting. -Also, from the same cupboard, he produced a tiny bottle with a gold -stopper; this bottle was not made of glass, but of metal. - -Having arranged his materials on the table, the Count drew from his -pocket an object which caused the watcher behind the curtain much -searching of mind. The object was a dagger, or rather a sheath knife, -small, of exquisite design, and with scabbard and pommel crusted with -gems. - -He drew the blade from the sheath, which he placed carefully on one -side. The blade was of silver, double-edged and damascened, about an -inch broad and four inches long. - -He placed the blade by the sheath. Then he put on the mask, took the -tube containing the violet liquor and poured a few drops on the glass -slab, then, as swiftly as light, a few drops from the tube containing -the crystal-clear liquid, stirring the two together with the point of -the glass rod. He reached out his left hand for the small metal bottle, -uncorked it, and poured a few drops on the slab. - -Instantly a cloud of vapour rose up, the liquid on the slab seemed -to boil; dipping the little brush in the seething fluid, he drew the -dagger blade to him and began to paint the silver with swift strokes, -reaching from the haft to the point. - -He only painted one side of the blade, and when the business was -completed, instead of returning the blade to the sheath, he laid it on -the table as if to dry. - -Then he rose from the chair and removed the mask from his face. - -A faint sickly odour filled the room. Lavenne, who had a pretty -intimate knowledge of most perfumes, pleasant or unpleasant, and who -in the course of his duties in the old quarters of Paris had learned -the art of possessing no nose, drew back slightly from this effluvium, -the effect of which was mental rather than physical. It might have been -likened to an essence distilled from an evil dream. But it did not seem -to trouble Camus. He was now putting away the bottle and the tubes, -the rod and the slab of glass. He returned the mask to the cabinet he -had taken it from, and then, coming back to the table, he took up the -dagger, examined it attentively and returned it to its sheath. - -Going to the right-hand wall, he touched a spot about four feet from -the ground; a tiny door, the existence of which Lavenne had failed to -detect, flew open. He placed the dagger in the _cache_ thus disclosed, -shut the door, extinguished one of the lamps on the table, and carrying -the other in his hand, left the room. - -Lavenne drew a deep breath. - -The situation was saved. Relieved of that terrible presence, his mind -could now work freely. Up to this, he had been unable to guess the -meaning of Camus’ labours. - -Why had Camus used this terrible fluid to poison the knife only on one -side? Why had he used such immense precaution that the other side of -the steel should remain untainted. - -The answer came now in a flash. Cabuchon had told him of this old -medieval trick, only Cabuchon had used the word knife, not dagger. - -Camus would use his dagger in this way. Laughingly, at some festival or -banquet, he would take out his beautiful dagger, and, cutting a pear or -a peach or an apple in two, offer half to his companion, whoever he or -she might be. - -And the half offered to his companion would be poisoned, inasmuch as it -would have come closely in contact with the poisoned side of the knife, -whereas the half retained for himself would be innocuous. - -And who could say to him, “Madame Camus died after eating that peach -you offered her,” considering the fact that he had also eaten of it? - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE FAWN AND THE SERPENT - - -Lavenne, considering this matter in his mind, still remained behind the -curtain standing in absolute darkness and waiting so as to give Camus -time to remember anything that he might possibly have forgotten. - -After the lapse of ten minutes, fairly assured that the Count would not -return, he pushed the curtains aside and struck a light. - -This time, he boldly lit the lamp on the table and with it in his hand -approached the wall on the right and began to hunt for the spring of -the secret opening. He was not long in finding it; a tiny disc, the -same colour as the wall and only revealed by its thread-like edge, -showed itself to the light of the lamp. He pressed on it, the door of -the _cache_ flew open, and in a moment the dagger was in his hand. -There was nothing else in the _cache_. Already he had formulated a plan -in his mind, a plan which at first sight might seem diabolical, but -which he considered, and with justice, the only means with which to -meet the case. - -Camus was no ordinary villain. This room was evidently his stronghold -and the _cache_ was evidently his most secret hiding-place. Yet there -were no incriminating papers to be found in the room, no papers -whatever; nor in the _cache_. This gentleman evidently kept his -secrets in his soul. He made no mistakes. Justice, Lavenne felt, might -search for ever without finding a tittle of evidence against him, and -indeed this fact, de Sartines, who had long known his proclivities, had -proved to the hilt. But there is such a thing as Retribution, and in -the name of Retribution Lavenne had declared in his own mind that the -knife of Camus should be Camus’ undoing. - -Lavenne, replacing the lamp on the table, examined the dagger minutely -without drawing the blade. The design was different on the two sides of -the sheath. On one side a fawn trod boldly on jewelled grapes, on the -other a serpent of six curves extended itself from the blade-entrance -to the point. The pommel on both its sides was of the same design. - -Nothing could be more striking than the difference between the two -sides of this dagger-sheath. One could have told them one from the -other in the dark and just by the sense of touch. - -Lavenne verified this fact with a grim pursing of his lips. The dagger -and sheath had been constructed for a set purpose, so that the poisoner -who had poisoned one side of the blade might know at once, and before -drawing it from its sheath, which was the lethal side. A mistake on -this point would have meant death to the poisoner instead of the -intended victim. Now Lavenne did not know which side of the blade Camus -had poisoned, for the sheath had been covered by the Count’s hand when -he put the blade back in it. - -Lavenne, however, did not in the least require to know which was the -poisoned side, or whether it faced to the serpent or the fawn. Camus -knew this and that was sufficient. - -To destroy Camus, Lavenne had only to draw the double-edged blade from -the sheath and insert it again, the other way about. - -That being done, this presenter of fruit to ladies would, when he cut -his apple or pear in two, present himself with the poisoned half. - -Lavenne drew the blade from the sheath, noticed that the poison, which -doubtless was only soluble in an acid solution, like, for instance, -the juice of a fruit, showed no sign of its presence on the silver, -inserted the blade again in the sheath the other way about, and -returned the dagger to the _cache_, which he then closed. His work was -now done, there was nothing left but to extinguish the lamp and leave -the room. He looked about to see that everything was in perfect order, -and then, taking the _crochet_ from his pocket, he approached the door. - -The lock turned quite easily to the instrument, but the door did not -open. - -He withdrew the _crochet_, reinserted it, and made the turn with his -wrist, and again with the same result. - -The door was bolted now as well as locked. Lavenne drew the back of his -hand across his forehead, which was covered with sweat. It was quite -useless to try again. It was not the fault of the lock. He remembered -now that Brujon, before he opened the door to show him the room, -had placed one hand on the wall beside the door. Brujon was stout, -and Lavenne had fancied that he leaned his hand on the wall to rest -himself. He knew now that Brujon must have touched a spring withdrawing -a secret bolt, without the release of which the door would not open. - -When Brujon had closed the door, he must have forgotten to touch -another spring which would have re-shot the bolt. Owing to this -forgetfulness, Lavenne had been able to enter the room simply by -picking the lock. But Camus, who seemed never to forget precaution, had -not forgotten to touch the bolting spring, with the result that Lavenne -was now a prisoner in a prison that threatened to be his tomb. - -He knew that it was quite futile, with the means at his disposal, -to make any further attempt upon the lock; even had he possessed a -crow-bar and all the tools necessary, the noise of the breaking open of -the door would arouse the house. - -The doorway being impossible, he turned to the window, which he had -not yet examined. The lamp held close to the window showed nothing of -the dark world outside, but it showed very definitely strong iron bars -almost touching the glass. - -The window being impossible, he turned to the floor. - -There was just a chance that the hollow-sounding portion of the parquet -between the table and the window curtains might disclose a means of -exit. There was, in fact, more than a chance, for a man like Camus, who -forgot nothing, would be the least likely man to forget to provide a -secret way of escape from this chamber of secrecy. - -Lavenne was not wrong; the parquet on close examination showed -the outline of a trap-door so well constructed as to be perfectly -indistinguishable to the gaze of a person who was not searching for it. - -In five minutes, or less, he had discovered the button of the opening -spring. He pressed on it, and the flap, instead of rising, as in the -ordinary trap-door, sank, disclosing a perpendicular ladder leading -down into absolute darkness. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE CATACOMBS OF PARIS - - -Here was a way of escape, but escape to where? He did not consider the -latter question for an instant. Replacing the lamp on the table, he -glanced round to make sure that everything was in exact order, counted -all the articles in his possession, the _crochet_, the two extra -candles which he carried, etc., just as a surgeon counts the sponges -which he has used during an operation, and having satisfied himself -that he had disturbed nothing and left nothing behind, he extinguished -the lamp, found the trap-door opening in the darkness and came down the -ladder. It had fifteen rungs. When he felt the solid ground under his -feet, he lit one of his candles and looked about him. - -He was standing in a passage that led to a flight of steps descending -into darkness, above was the square opening of the trap-door, and -shining in the wall on his right, a brass handle. He guessed its use -and pulling on it, the flap of the door above rose steadily and slowly -and closed with a faint sucking sound like that of a piston driven home -in a perfectly fitting cylinder. - -It seemed to Lavenne that everything was favouring him, for had he been -forced to leave the door open, his plan might have been ruined, as -Camus would undoubtedly have suspected a spy on his movements. - -With the lighted candle in his hand, he came towards the flight of -steps. At the top of this stone stairway, he paused for a moment almost -daunted. It seemed to have no end. The light of the candle became -swallowed up in the darkness before revealing the last step. There were -over a hundred of these steps leading to a passage, or rather a tunnel, -which ended by opening into a corridor. The tunnel struck the corridor -at right angles, and Lavenne, holding his light to the walls, looked in -vain for an indication as to whether he should turn to the right or the -left. Failing to find any, he turned to the right. - -He had gone only a few yards when an opening in the corridor wall gave -him a glimpse of something more daunting than the darkness. It was a -skull resting on a heap of bones. The skull, from which the lower jaw -was missing, was yet not wholly without speech. It told Lavenne at once -where he was. - -Pursuing his way and casting the light of the candle into several more -of these lidless sarcophagi, he reached a large open space, where over -the piles of bones heaped against the walls, the candle-light revealed -a Latin inscription cut into the stone. - -From this open space to the right, to left, in front and behind of the -man who had just entered it, the candle-light showed four corridors -each leading to darkness. - -Lavenne had left the laboratory of Count Camus only to find himself -entangled in the Catacombs of Paris. - -Camus’ house seemed built in conformity with his mind, secure, secret, -containing many things unrevealable to the light of day, and based on a -maze of dark passages offering a means of escape to the mind that knew -them and bewilderment and despair to the mind that did not. - -Lavenne knew something of the catacombs, but not much. They lay outside -his province. - -The Catacombs of Paris are to-day just as they were in the time of the -fifteenth Louis, with this difference: they are more fully occupied, -since they contain the bones of many of the victims of the Terror. This -vast system of tunnelling which extends from the heart of Paris to the -plain of Mont Souris is in reality a city where rock takes the place of -houses, galleries the place of streets, dead men the place of citizens, -and eternal darkness the place of day and night. - -It has been closed now for some years on account of the danger to -explorers arising from the huge army of rats that have made it their -camping-ground. Some years ago a man was attacked and eaten by rats in -one of the galleries. - -Few inhabitants of the gay city of Paris ever give a thought to the -city of Death that lies beneath their feet, and fewer still to the -motto that is written on the walls of this vast tomb—just as it is -written everywhere: - - “Remember, Man, that thou art Dust, and that unto Dust thou shalt - return.” - -It was in this terrific place that Lavenne found himself, with the -choice of exploring it to find a way out or returning to encounter -Camus. - - - - -BOOK IV - - - - -CHAPTER I - -NEWS FROM VINCENNES - - -One morning, four days later, the Comte de Sartines, working in his -official room in the Hôtel de Sartines, was informed that a person -wished to see him on urgent business. - -“What is the name?” asked he. - -“Brujon, monsieur. It is the steward of M. le Comte Camus.” - -“Show him in,” replied the Minister. - -He continued writing; then, when the visitor was announced, he turned -in his chair, pen in hand. - -“Well, monsieur,” said the Minister of Police, “you wish to see me? -What is your business?” - -“Monsieur,” said Brujon, “I am in great perplexity and distress. For -three nights I have not slept, and the thing has worked so on my mind -that I said to myself, I will go to Monsieur de Sartines, who is -all-powerful, and place this case before him.” - -“Yes?” - -“Monsieur, four days ago, our pantry-man, Jumeau, who has charge of the -silver belonging to my master, asked leave of absence on account of the -illness of his mother; he introduced to me a young man, his cousin, -named Jouve, in order that Jouve might take his place during the time -of his absence. Jouve had an excellent reference, and I engaged him. -Well, that night Jouve disappeared. At least, in the morning he was -nowhere to be found. Yet he could not have left the house.” - -“And why could not he have left the house?” - -“Because, monsieur, all the doors are locked, and, what is more, barred -on the inside, yet no bar had been removed. My master, when he comes -in late, is always admitted by the _concierge_, who re-bars the door, -all the other doors are equally barred, and that night I examined the -fastenings myself. If Jouve had left the house by any door, how could -he have replaced the bars?” - -“He may have had an accomplice in the house,” replied de Sartines, -deeply interested and wondering what new move of Lavenne’s this might -be, for Beauregard had told him of Lavenne’s suspicions as to Camus, -and the whole business, in fact. - -“Yes, monsieur,” replied Brujon. “But no silver was taken, no valuables -of any sort, why should he have entered the house just to leave it in -that manner? Monsieur, I have a feeling that he is still in the house, -though, God knows, I have searched diligently enough to find him.” - -“Well,” said de Sartines, “what can I do?” - -“I do not know, monsieur, but I thought it my duty to consult you.” - -“Have you told your master of this affair?” - -Brujon hesitated. - -“No, monsieur, I have not—he is of such a violent temper——.” - -“Precisely. But the fact remains that you have hidden the thing from -him, and that fact would not calm the violence of his temper should you -disclose the affair now. He might even do you an injury, so, for the -sake of peace and your own skin, I would advise you to say nothing, but -keep a vigilant watch. Should Jouve turn up, hidden anywhere, lock him -up in a room, and send here at once and I will send a man to arrest -him.” - -“Thank you, monsieur,” replied Brujon, who seemed relieved by Sartines’ -manner and advice. “I will do what you say. Good day, your Excellency.” - -When he was gone Sartines rang a bell and ordered Beauregard to be sent -to him. - -“_Ma foi_!” said Beauregard, “there is more in this than I can fathom. -What can he be doing all these four days?” - -“Who knows?” replied the Minister. “But I am quite confident he has -not been idle. He will turn up, and I dare swear he will bring with -him the rope to hang Monsieur Camus. It has been spinning for a long -time and is overdue. Now here is a commission for you. Since I can’t -put hands on Lavenne for the business, go yourself to Vincennes and see -how Rochefort is doing. They have had orders to make him comfortable, -see that these orders have been carried out. We must keep him in a good -temper.” - -“Yes, monsieur.” - -“Have a chat with him; and you might say that the Dubarrys are working -in his interests to smooth matters with Choiseul—which, in fact, they -are not.” - -“Yes, monsieur.” - -“See that he is allowed plenty of exercise—tennis and so forth, but -always strictly guarded, for I know this devil of a Rochefort, one -can’t count on his whims, and should prison gall him he may, even -against his own interests, try to break out and fly into the claws of -Choiseul.” - -“Yes, monsieur.” - -Beauregard went off on his mission, and as he left the room, the -Vicomte Jean Dubarry was announced. - -“My dear Sartines,” cried Jean as they shook hands, “I just called to -see if you were going to Choiseul’s reception to-night.” - -“I have been invited,” replied Sartines. - -“And you will go?” - -“Yes, I think I will go—why are you so pressing?” - -“Well, as a matter of fact,” said Jean, “Choiseul asked me to make sure -of your coming. He wishes peace all round now that the Dauphiness is to -arrive so shortly.” - -“You are great friends with Choiseul now, you and Madame la Comtesse?” - -“We are at peace, for the moment. I do not trust him one hair’s -breadth, but we are at peace.” - -“Just so,” said Sartines; “and how is Mademoiselle Fontrailles?” - -“As beautiful as ever.” - -“And as cold?” - -“Oh, _ma foi_!” said Jean, laughing, “I think the ice is broken in that -direction—Camus——” - -“You mean to say she cares for Camus?” - -Jean laughed. “I say nothing. I only know what the Countess told me -this morning. Mind this is between ourselves—well, she is Camus’, -heart and soul.” - -“_Peste_! What does she see in that fellow?—Are you sure of what you -say?” - -“I am sure of nothing, but the Countess is. Camille has made her her -confidante. I do not know what women see in Camus, but they seem to -see something that attracts them.” - -“But he is married—Oh, _mon Dieu_!” cried Sartines, suddenly -interrupting himself and breaking into a laugh. “What am I saying—it -is well known that Madame Camus is delicate—and should she die——” - -“Then our gentleman would be free to marry Camille,” said Jean. - -“No, monsieur,” replied Sartines, “I doubt if it would all be as simple -as that. However, we will not consider the question of Camus’ marriage -with this girl in any event. She is a fool.” - -“Why?” - -“Why? Because if the Devil had allowed her to care for Rochefort, and -she had thrown in her part with him, it would have assisted to smooth -matters with Choiseul. The Countess would have worked more earnestly -for a _démarche_, and the Fontrailles would have kept Rochefort -contented in Vincennes with a few notes sent to him there— Well, one -cannot make up a woman’s mind for her and there is no use in trying. -She is going to-night, I suppose, to this affair at Choiseul’s?” - -“Oh, you may be sure. Camus will be there.” - -The Vicomte went off and Sartines returned to his writing. - -But this was to be an eventful morning with him. Five minutes had -scarcely passed when the door burst open without knock or warning, and -Beauregard, who by this ought to have been on the road to Vincennes, -entered, flushed and breathing hard. - -“Monsieur,” cried Beauregard, “Rochefort has escaped.” - -“Escaped! _Mordieu_! When did he escape?” - -“In the early hours of this morning or during the night. Here is -Capitaine Pierre Cousin himself who has brought the story.” - -“Show him in,” said Sartines. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE TWO PRISONERS - - -Sartines’ uneasiness about Rochefort had arisen from an intuitive -knowledge of that gentleman’s character, and strange misdoubts as to -how that character might develop under the double influence of Love and -Prison. - -As a matter of fact, no sooner had the excitement of his arrival at -Vincennes passed off, no sooner had he dined that evening, cracked -a bottle of Beaune, joked Bonvallot, and rubbed his hands at the -discomfiture of Choiseul, than reaction took place accompanied by -indigestion. He flung himself on the bed. - -Monsieur de Rochefort was not made for a quiet life. If he could not be -hunting or hawking he must be moving—moving on the pavements of Paris, -talking, laughing, joking or quarrelling. - -Here there was no one to laugh with, joke with, or quarrel -with—nothing to walk on, except the floor of his cell. And it was now -that he first became aware of a fact which he never knew before: that -it was his habit to change about from room to room. He was one of those -unfortunates who cannot endure to be long in one place. He never knew -this till now. - -It was now that he became aware for the first time of another fact -unknown to him until this: that he was a great talker. And of another -fact, more general in its application, that to enjoy talking one must -be _en rapport_ with the person to whom one is talking. - -This latter fact was borne in upon him by the voice of Ferminard. - -Ferminard, who had also finished his dinner, seemed now in a sprightly -mood, to judge by the voice that came to Rochefort, a voice which came -literally from under his bed. - -“Monsieur de Rochefort,” said the voice, “are you there, Monsieur de -Rochefort?” - -“Oh, _mon Dieu_!” cried Rochefort, who had started on his elbow at this -sudden interruption of his thoughts. “Am I here? Where else would I be? -Yes, I am here—what do you wish?” - -“_Ma foi_! nothing but a little quiet conversation.” Rochefort laughed. - -“A little quiet conversation—why, your voice comes to me like the -voice of a dog grumbling under my bed. How can one converse under such -circumstances? But go on, talk as much as you please, I have nothing to -do but listen.” - -“Well, Monsieur de Rochefort, you are not encouraging, but I will do my -best; it is better to talk to a bad listener than to talk to no one, -and it is better to talk to no one than not to talk at all. Let us -talk, then, of Monsieur Rousseau’s absurd comedy with music attached to -it, which at the instigation of M. de Coigny he produced at Versailles.” - -“Good heavens, no! What do you take me for—a music-master? If you -cannot talk on reasonable subjects, then be dumb. Let me talk of -getting out of this infernal castle of Vincennes, which, it seems to -me, I was a fool to have entered. Have you that big sou upon you, M. -Ferminard?” - -“Yes, M. de Rochefort, it is in my pocket.” - -“Well, then, if you wish to be agreeable to me, pass it through the -hole to me. I wish to examine it. It, at all events, will speak to me -of liberty.” - -“Monsieur,” said Ferminard, “if my pockets were full of louis, I would -pass them to you for the asking. But the big sou—no.” - -“And why not, may I ask?” - -“Because, monsieur, it would, as you say, talk to you of liberty, and -it might even tempt you to try and make your escape.” - -“And why should I not make my escape?” - -“For two reasons, monsieur. First, you have forgotten that you are -hiding from M. de Choiseul.” - -“Curse Choiseul!” - -“I agree, yet still you are hiding from him. Secondly——” - -“Well?” - -“Secondly, monsieur, if you escaped, I would be left with no one to -talk to.” - -“Have you not Bonvallot?” - -“_Oh hé_! Bonvallot. A man without parts, without understanding, -without knowledge of the world! A nice man to leave me in company with!” - -“But I do not intend leaving you in his company. I ask you only for the -big sou that I may look at it and see what another man has done so that -he might obtain his liberty. If you refuse to gratify my curiosity, M. -Ferminard, I shall stuff up that hole with my blanket, and there will -be an end of our pleasant conversations.” - -“Well, M. de Rochefort, here it is, pull your bed out and I will put it -in your hand.” - -Rochefort arose and pulled his bed out and the hand of Ferminard came -through the hole. Rochefort took the coin and approached the lamp with -it. - -It was indeed a marvel: in a moment he managed to unscrew the two -surfaces and from the tiny box which they formed when in apposition -leaped a little silvery saw, small as a watch-spring. - -Rochefort, leaving the little saw on the table, refastened the box. - -“_Mordieu_!” said he, “it is clever. What will you sell it to me for, -Monsieur Ferminard?” - -“You shall have it as a gift, M. Rochefort, when we are both breathing -the free air of heaven, but only then.” - -“You think I will use it to make my escape?” - -“No, monsieur, I think you might use it to break your neck, or to be -re-captured by this horrible Choiseul whose very name gives me the -nightmare.” - -“Well, you are wrong,” replied the other. “Were I outside this place -I would not be re-captured, simply because I would do what I ought to -have done this morning.” - -“And what is that?” - -“Go straight to his Majesty and tell him the whole of my story and ask -him to be my judge—or better still, go straight to de Choiseul and -talk to him as a man to a man.” - -“To M. de Choiseul?” - -“Why, yes. I should never have run away from him. Nor would I, only -that on the night of the Presentation I was in a hurry to go to Paris; -he tried to stop me and I resisted arrest. And now it seems to me that -I am in a hurry to go to Paris again and that de Sartines is trying to -stop me, and that I am prepared to resist his hand.” - -He had almost forgotten Lavenne and his words, he had almost forgotten -the presence of Ferminard on the other side of the wall, and he talked -half to himself as he paced the floor uneasily, the big sou in his hand -and his mind revolving this new idea that had only just occurred to him. - -He should not have resisted arrest, even at the hands of Camus. -Choiseul wanted him primarily for the killing of the agent. Had he gone -straight to Choiseul and given him the whole truth, including Camus’ -conduct in the case of Javotte, whom he could have called as a witness, -Choiseul would he now imagined have released him after inquiry. But he -had resisted arrest, not because he felt guilty, but because he wanted -to go to Paris to meet Camille Fontrailles. Choiseul did not know that. - -It seemed to Rochefort, as his thoughts wandered back, that Camille -Fontrailles had been his evil star. She it was who had made him join -with the Dubarrys, she it was who had made him run away from Choiseul, -she it was who, refusing to see him, had put him in such a temper with -the world that his mind, unable to think for itself, had allowed other -men to think for it. - -It seemed to him now that Lavenne’s advice, though it was the best -that Lavenne could give, was not the best that Policy could devise. -He—Rochefort—was saved from Choiseul for the moment; tucked away in -Vincennes he might be saved from Choiseul as long as Choiseul remained -in power—but how long would that be? - -Choiseul might remain in power for years, and at this thought the sweat -moistened M. de Rochefort’s hands, wetting the big sou which he still -held, and which, like some magician, whilst talking of Liberty to him, -had shown him, as in a vision, his foolishness and his false position. - -Sartines had put him under “protection” at Vincennes, not for -his—Rochefort’s—sake, but for his—Sartines’—convenience. - -So many charming people in this world are wise after the event; it is -chiefly the hard-headed and unpleasant and prosperous people whose -wisdom, practical as themselves, saves them and makes them prosper. -If Rochefort could only have gone back in his life; if he could only -have carried his present wisdom back to the night of the Presentation, -how differently things might have shaped themselves as regards his -interests—or would he, in the face of everything, have pursued the -path pointed out to him, as the old romance-writers would have said, -“by Love and Folly”? - -I believe he would, for M. de Rochefort had amongst his other -qualities, good and bad, the persistence of a snail. Not only had -Love urged him that night to strike Camus and escape on the horse of -Choiseul’s messenger, but Persistence had lent its powerful backing to -Love. This gentleman hated to break his word with himself, and, as a -matter of fact, he never did. If he had promised himself to repent of -his sins and lead a virtuous life, I believe he would have done so. - -He was longing to promise himself now to escape from this infernal -prison into which Folly had led him. - -“Well, M. de Rochefort,” came the voice of Ferminard, “it is not for me -to say whether you are right or wrong, but seeing that you are here, -and safe under the protection of M. de Sartines, there is nothing to be -done but have patience.” - -“_Mordieu_, patience! To be told that always makes me angry. Monsieur -Ferminard, if you use that word again to me I will stuff up that hole -with my blanket.” - -“Pardon,” said Ferminard. “The word escaped from me, and now, monsieur, -if you have done with that big sou.” - -“Here is your sou,” replied the other, replacing the coin in the -hand of Ferminard that was thrust through the opening, “and now, M. -Ferminard, I am going to sit down on my bed and try if sleep will not -help me to forget M. de Sartines, M. de Choiseul, myself, and this -infernal castle where stupidity has brought me. _Bon soir._” - -“_Bon soir_, monsieur,” replied Ferminard. - -Rochefort blew out his candle, and having replaced the bed, flung -himself upon it, but not to sleep. Camille Fontrailles it was who now -haunted him. The rapid events of the day had pushed her image to one -side, and now in the darkness it reappeared to torment him. His passion -for her, born of a moment, was by no means dead, but it had received -a serious blow. At the crucial moment of his life she had refused to -see him; after all that he had done for her friends, after all he had -sacrificed for her, she had refused to see him, and not only that, she -had sent a cold message, and also, she had sent it by the mouth of that -fat-lipped libertine, Jean Dubarry. - -Jean Dubarry could talk to her through her bedroom door, whilst he, -Rochefort, had to remain downstairs, like a servant waiting for a -message. - -Yes, he would escape, if for no other object than to pull Jean -Dubarry’s nose. An intense hatred of the whole Dubarry faction surged -up in his mind again. Jean, Chon, and the Countess, he did not know -which was the more detestable. He rose from his bed. The moon, which -was now near the full, was casting her light through the window, a ray -fell on the little steel saw that was lying on the table. He picked it -up and examined it again. - -The window had only one bar, but the bar was fairly thick and it seemed -impossible that he could ever cut through it with the instrument in his -hand. Yet M. de Thumery had prepared to do so and would he be daunted -by a business that an invalid had contemplated and would undoubtedly -have carried out had not Death intervened? - -He opened the sash of the window carefully and examined the bar. Then -he brought his chair to the window, and, standing on the chair and -holding either end of the saw between finger and thumb, drew its teeth -against the iron of the bar. - -It was one of those saws nicknamed “Dust of Iron,” so wonderfully -tempered and so keen that, properly used, no iron bar could stand -before them. After five minutes’ work Rochefort found that he could -use the thing properly and with effect, and it seemed to him that with -patience and diligence, working almost night and day, he could cut -through the bar top and bottom—in about ten years’ time. - -In fact, though five minutes’ work had produced a tiny furrow in -the bar sufficient to be felt with his thumb-nail, the whole thing -seemed hopeless. But only for a minute. He began to calculate. If five -minutes’ labour made a perceptible furrow in the iron of the bar, fifty -minutes would give him ten times that result, and a hundred minutes -twenty times. Two hours’ labour, then, ought to start him well on his -way through the business. - -But even with this calculation fresh in his mind, his heart quailed -before the thought of what he would have to do and to suffer before the -last cut of the saw and the crowning of his efforts. - -It was a life’s work compressed into days. The labours of a Titan -condensed and diminished, but not in the least lightened, and his heart -quailed at the thought, not because he was a coward, but because he -knew that if he once took the job in hand he would go through with it -to the end. - -He came from the window and putting the saw on the table, lay down on -the bed. He lay for a few minutes without moving, like a man exhausted. -Then all of a sudden, and as though some vital spring had been wound up -and set going, he rose from the bed, snatched the saw from the table -and approached the bar. - -From the next cell he could hear a faint rhythmical sound. It was the -sound of Ferminard snoring. Asleep and quite unconscious of the fact -that his precious box which he had placed in his pocket after receiving -it back, had been rifled of its contents. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE TWO PRISONERS (_continued_) - - -Next morning, Rochefort awoke after five hours’ sleep to find the -daylight streaming into his cell and Bonvallot opening his door to -bring him the early morning coffee that was served out to prisoners of -the first class. - -He had worked for three hours with the saw, and in his dreams he had -been still at work, cutting his way through iron bars in a quite -satisfactory manner, only to find that they joined together again when -cut. - -“Here is your coffee,” said Bonvallot, “and a roll—_déjeuner_ is -served at noon—and the bed—have you found it comfortable?” - -“_Mordieu_! Comfortable!” grumbled the prisoner, “it seems to me I -have been sleeping on brickbats. Put the coffee on the table, Sergeant -Bonvallot—that is right, and now tell me, has your Governor, M. le -Capitaine Pierre Cousin, returned yet?” - -“He has, monsieur.” - -“And when may I expect to see him?” - -“Ah, when—that I cannot tell you. Maybe to-morrow, maybe the next day, -maybe the day after, there are no fixed rules for the visits of the -governor through the castle of Vincennes.” - -“Maybe to-morrow, maybe the next day—but I wish to see him to-day.” - -“Monsieur, that is what the prisoners are always saying. If the -governor were to obey the requests of everyone he would be run off his -legs.” - -“I do not wish to run him off his legs. I simply wish to see him.” - -“And what does monsieur wish to see him about?” - -“_Ma foi_! what about, that is a secret. I wish to have a private talk -with him.” - -“A private talk, why that is in any event impossible.” - -“Impossible, how do you mean?” - -“When the governor visits the prisoners, monsieur, he is always -accompanied by a soldier who remains in the room. That is one of the -rules of Vincennes.” - -“Confound your rules—There, you can leave me, I am going to get -up—and do not forget the writing materials when you come next. I will -write the governor a letter—or will some soldier have to read it over -his shoulder?” - -Bonvallot went out grinning. Rochefort had paid him well for the clean -linen and other attentions and he hoped for better payment still. - -Then Rochefort got up, still grumbling. The labours of the night before -at the bar, and his dreams in which those labours were continued, had -not improved his temper. He drank his coffee and ate his roll and then -turned to the window to see by daylight what progress he had made with -the saw. He was more than satisfied; quite elated also to find that -the top part of the bar, just where it entered the stone, had become -spindled by rust. Were he to succeed in cutting through the lower part -a vigorous wrench would, he felt assured, bring the whole thing away. - -He took the little saw from the place where he had hidden it the night -before, and, inspired with new energy, set to work. - -He felt no fear of being caught; the size of the saw made it easily -hidden, the cut in the bar would only be seen were a person to make a -close inspection. The noise of the saw was negligible. - -Whilst he was so engaged, Ferminard’s voice broke in upon his labours. - -“Good-morning, M. de Rochefort.” - -“Good-morning, M. Ferminard—what is it you want?” - -“Only a little conversation, monsieur.” - -“Well, that is impossible as I am busy.” - -“_Oh hé_, busy! and what are you busy about?” - -“I? I am writing letters.” - -“Pardon,” said Ferminard. “I will call on you again.” - -As he laboured, pausing every five minutes for five minutes’ rest, a -necessity due to the cramped position in which he had to work, he heard -vague sounds from Ferminard’s cell, where that individual was also, it -would seem, at work. - -One might have fancied that two or three people were in there laughing -and disputing and now quarrelling. - -It was Ferminard at work on one of his infernal productions, tragedy -or comedy, it would be impossible to say, but making more noise in the -close confines of a prison cell than it was ever likely to make in the -world. - -After _déjeuner_, when Rochefort, tired out, was lying on his bed, the -voice of Ferminard again made itself heard. - -“M. de Rochefort—are you inclined for a little talk?” - -“No,” replied M. de Rochefort. “But you may talk as much as you like -and I will promise not to interrupt—for I am going to sleep.” - -“Well, before you go to sleep let me tell you of my new design.” - -“Speak.” - -“I have torn up the play I was writing.” - -“Why, M. Ferminard, have you done that?” - -“In order to write a better one.” - -“Ah, that is decidedly a good idea.” - -“A drama full of action.” - -“Hum-hum.” - -“M. de Rochefort, you are not listening to me.” - -“Eh—what! Where am I—ah, yes, go on, go on—you were saying that you -had torn up a play.” - -“In order to write a better one, and I am introducing you as one of my -characters.” - -“You are putting me in your play?” - -“Yes, monsieur, I am putting you in my play.” - -“Well, M. Ferminard, I forbid it, that’s all. I will not be put in a -play.” - -“But I am putting myself in also, monsieur.” - -“_Bon Dieu_! what impudence!” - -“It is not impudence, but gratitude, monsieur. I will not hide it from -you that, despite what brains I have, I am of small extraction; one of -the _rafataille_, as they say in the south. But you have always talked -to me as your equal; and if I have put myself in the same piece as you -it is only as your servant, imprisoned in the next cell to you in the -dungeons of the castle of Pompadiglione.” - -“And where the devil is Pompadiglione?” - -“It is the name of the castle in my play. Well, monsieur, the first -scene is just as it is here, now. The count and his servant, imprisoned -just as we are in adjoining cells, with a hole in the partition wall -through which they can speak to one another, and the servant has -discovered a knotted rope, a big sou and a staple just as I have -discovered them. Well, monsieur, the count is to be beheaded, and his -execution is fixed for the next day, but the faithful servant hands him -through the hole in the wall the means for escape, the rope, the big -sou containing a saw, and the staple. The count escapes that night.” - -“One moment, M. Ferminard, you say he escaped that night?” - -“Yes, monsieur.” - -“How did he escape?” - -“He escaped by cutting away the bar of his cell with the little saw -contained in the sou.” - -“Oh. And do you fancy he could do that in one night?” - -“Not in reality, monsieur, but on the stage he could.” - -“Ah, well, I know nothing of these things—well, he escapes, this -count—what then?” - -“Next morning his escape is discovered and the faithful servant—that -is me—refuses to give any explanation, though the hole in the wall has -been discovered—he is dumb.” - -“Dumb—good heavens, M. Ferminard—that part would never suit you.” - -“Pardon me, monsieur, but I believe it would—well, as I was saying, -the count, who had indeed escaped by means of the rope from his cell, -had not managed to escape from the precincts of the castle. The rope -was not long enough and he had to take refuge on a ledge where he is -shown in the next scene crouching and watching the faithful servant -being led forth to execution in his place.” - -“Well?” - -“That is as far as I have got, monsieur.” - -“Oh, you have not fixed on the end of your play yet?” - -“No, monsieur.” - -“But surely, M. Ferminard, the end is the most important thing in a -play?” - -Ferminard coughed, irritated, as all geniuses are by criticism. - -“Why,” said he, “I thought monsieur said he could not tell a play from -a washing-bill.” - -“Perhaps, yet even in a washing-bill, M. Ferminard, the end is the most -important part, since it sums up the whole matter in francs and sous. -But do not let me discourage you, for should you fail to find a good -ending I will be able to supply you with one. An idea has occurred to -me.” - -“And what is that idea, monsieur?” - -“I have, yet, to think it out. However, go on with your business in -your own way and we will talk of the matter when you have finished. I -wish now to sleep.” - -He felt irritated with Ferminard. Ferminard was the man who possessed -the rope which was the only means of escape, and Ferminard, he felt, -would refuse the rope to him, just as he had refused the big sou. -By using arguments, threats, or entreaties he might be able to make -Ferminard give him the rope, but he was not the man to threaten, -entreat, or argue with an inferior. Besides, he was too lazy. The -cutting of the window-bar was absorbing all his energies. - -Besides, why waste time and tongue-power to obtain a thing that could -be obtained when desired by a little finesse. When the time came he -would obtain the rope from Ferminard just as he had obtained the saw -which Ferminard fancied still to be contained in the sou. Rochefort, -whilst feeling friendly towards the dramatist, had very little respect -for him; he might be a good actor, but it was evident that he was very -much of a child. Besides, he was—as he himself confessed—one of the -_rafataille_, a man of the people, and though M. de Rochefort was not -in the least a snob, he looked upon the people from the viewpoint of -his class. He was not in the least ashamed of the deception he had -practiced on Ferminard. The little saw did not belong to Ferminard, he -had found it by chance, and it was the property of the dead M. Thumery, -or his heirs. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE TWO PRISONERS (_continued_) - - -The next day passed without a visit from the governor, and the next. -Rochefort ceased to ask about him; he resented this neglect, now, as a -personal insult. He forgot that he was incarcerated under the name of -La Porte, and that any neglect of M. La Porte, though unpleasant to M. -de Rochefort, need not be taken as a personal affront. - -He would have resented the thing more had it not been that he was very -busy. - -On the afternoon of the fourth day his work was complete. The bar was -not quite divided, but sufficiently so to yield to a strong wrench. -With his table-knife, which he had been allowed to keep, he had scraped -away the rust where the upper part of the bar was mortised into the -stone and had verified the weakness of this part of the attachment. - -He had fixed upon midnight as the hour for his evasion, and nothing -remained now but to obtain the rope from the unsuspecting Ferminard. - -The latter had also not been idle during the last four days. Happy as -a child with a toy, the ingenious Ferminard had not noticed the faint -sound of the saw in the next cell. If it reached him at all at times, -he no doubt put it down to the noise of a rat. - -Never before in his life had he possessed so much paper, ink, and -time to write in. Up to this his leisure had been mostly consumed by -taverns, good companions, women, and the necessity of getting drunk -which his unfortunate temperament imposed on him. Also, in hunting for -loans. Now he found himself housed, fed, and cared for, protected from -drink and supplied with all the materials his imagination required -for the moment. So, for the moment, he was happy and busy, and his -happiness would have been more complete had Rochefort been a better -listener. - -Towards dusk, Rochefort considered that the time had come to negotiate -the business of the rope with M. Ferminard. Accordingly, he drew the -bed away from the wall, and, kneeling down, approached his head to the -opening. - -“Monsieur Ferminard.” - -“Ho! M. de Rochefort, is that you?” - -“Yes, it is I—let us talk for awhile.” - -“With pleasure, monsieur.” - -He heard Ferminard’s bed being moved away from the wall. Then came the -dramatist’s voice. - -“I am here, monsieur. I was asleep when you called me and I was -dreaming that I was at the Maison Gambrinus drinking some Flemish beer -that Turgis had just imported, and that there was a hole in the bottom -of my mug, so that as fast as I drank so fast did the beer run out. I -got nothing but froth, and even that froth had a taste of soap-suds. -Now tell me one thing, M. de Rochefort.” - -“Yes?” - -“Why is it that when one dreams, one’s dreams are always so -unsatisfactory? Whenever I meet a pretty girl in dreamland, she always -turns into an old woman when I kiss her, and whenever I find myself -in good company, I am either dressed in rags, or, what is worse, not -dressed at all. If I go to collect money I always enter by mistake -the house of some man to whom I owe a debt, and if I find myself on -the stage I am always acting some part, the lines of which I have -forgotten.” - -“The whole world is unsatisfactory, M. Ferminard, and as dreamland is -part of the world, why, I suppose it is unsatisfactory too. Now as to -that play of yours whose ending you insisted on describing to me this -morning, that is like dreamland and the world—unsatisfactory. The -ending does not satisfy me in the least.” - -“In what way?” - -“I have thought of a better.” - -“Oh, you have. Well, please explain to me what you mean.” - -“I will, certainly. But first let me see that rope which you told me -you had discovered, and the discovery of which gave you the idea for -this play of yours.” - -“The rope, but what can you want with the rope?” - -“I will show you when it is in my hands, or at least I will explain my -meaning; come, M. Ferminard, the rope, for without it I cannot show you -what I want.” - -“Wait, monsieur, and I will get it.” - -In a moment one end of the precious rope was in Rochefort’s hands. He -pulled it through into his cell, noted the length, the thickness and -the knots upon it, and was satisfied. - -“Well, monsieur?” said the impatient Ferminard. - -“Well, M. Ferminard, now I have the rope in my hands I will tell you -exactly how your play is going to end, in reality. The count—that -is myself, for since you have put me into your play I feel myself -justified in acting in it—the count is going to pull his bed to -the window of his cell, tie this precious rope to the bedpost, and, -crawling out of the window and dangling like a spider, he is going to -descend to the ground. He will not remain stuck on a ledge, as in your -version of the play, he will reach the ground—then he will pick up -his heels and run to Paris, and there he will pull M. de Choiseul’s -nose—or make friends with him.” - -“But you cannot,” replied Ferminard, not knowing exactly how to take -the other. - -“And why cannot I?” - -“Because, monsieur, the bar of your window would permit you, perhaps, -to lower your rope, but it would prevent you from following it.” - -“No, M. Ferminard, it would not.” - -“Ah, well, then, it must be a most accommodating bar and have altered -considerably in strength since you spoke to me of it first.” - -“It has.” - -“In what way?” - -“Why, it has been filed almost in two.” - -“Ah,” cried Ferminard, “what is that you say? Filed in two—and since -when?” - -“Since we had our first talk together.” - -“You have cut it then—with what?” - -“Heavens! can’t you guess?” - -“Your table-knife.” - -“Oaf!” - -“You had, then, a knife, or file, or saw or something with you.” - -“M. Ferminard, prison does not seem to improve your intelligence. I -cut it with the little saw contained in the big sou.” - -“But that is impossible, for you had not the sou two minutes in your -possession.” - -Rochefort laughed. “Open your sou, then, and see what is in it.” - -Leaning on his elbow, he laughed to himself as he heard Ferminard -moving so as to get the sou from his pocket to open it. - -Then he heard the voice of Ferminard who was speaking to himself. “It -is gone—he must have taken it—never!—yet it is gone.” - -The astonishment evident in Ferminard’s voice at the trick that had -been played on him acted upon Rochefort just as the sudden stripping of -the bedclothes from a person asleep acts on the sleeper. - -It was not stupidity on the part of Ferminard that had prevented him -from guessing with what instrument the bar had been cut, it was his -complete belief in Rochefort’s honour. His mind, of its own accord, -could not imagine the Comte de Rochefort playing him a trick like that, -and his voice now betrayed what was passing in his mind. - -Had Ferminard been a suspicious man, and had he discovered the -abstraction of the saw on his own account, anything he might have said -would not have shown Rochefort what he saw now. - -He felt as though, by some horrible accident, he had shot and injured -his own good faith, fair name and honour. - -“_Mon Dieu_!” said he. “What have I done!” - - - - -CHAPTER V - -M. DE ROCHEFORT REVIEWS HIMSELF - - -For a moment he said nothing more. And then: “M. Ferminard?” - -“Yes, M. de Rochefort?” - -“I have been a very great fool, it seems to me, for I did not in the -least consider the fact, when I played that deception upon you, that it -was an unworthy one. You believed in me. You had formed an opinion of -me. You paid me the compliment of never imagining that I would deceive -you. Well, honestly and as between man and man, I looked on the matter -more in the light of a joke. I said to myself, ‘How he will stare when -he finds I have outwitted him.’ It was the trick of a child, for it -seems to me one grows childish in prison. Give me that big sou, M. -Ferminard.” - -Ferminard passed the coin through the hole and Rochefort, rising, -opened it, put the little saw in, closed it, and returned it to the -other. - -“And here is the rope,” said he. “I have no more use for it.” - -“But, monsieur,” said Ferminard. He paused, and for a moment said -nothing more. Ferminard was, in fact, covered with confusion. -Rochefort’s unworthy trick had struck him on the cheek, so to say, and -left it burning. He felt ashamed. Ashamed of Rochefort for playing -the trick and ashamed of himself for having found it out, and ashamed -of Rochefort knowing that he—Ferminard—thought less of him. Then, -breaking silence: - -“It is nothing, M. de Rochefort. If you are tired of prison why should -you remain? It is true that there may be danger for you from M. de -Choiseul, but one does nothing without danger threatening one in this -world, it seems to me. Why, even walking across the street one may be -run over by a carriage, as a friend of mine was some time ago.” - -“My good Ferminard,” said Rochefort, dropping for the first time the -prefix “monsieur,” “you are talking for the sake of talking, and for -the kind reason that you wish to hide from yourself and me what you are -thinking. And you are thinking that the Comte de Rochefort is a man -whom you trusted, but whom you do not trust any longer.” - -“Monsieur—monsieur!” - -“Let me finish. If that is not what you are thinking you must be a -fool, and as you are not a fool that is what is in your mind. Well, you -are right and wrong. I do not know my own character entirely, but I do -know that when I stop to think I am sometimes at a loss to imagine why -I have committed certain actions; some of these actions that startle me -are good, and some are bad; but they are not committed by the Comte de -Rochefort so much as by something that urges the Comte de Rochefort to -commit them. I fancy that some men always think before they act, and -other men frequently act before they think, but I do know this, that -once I am propelled on a course of action I don’t stop to think at all -till the business is over one way or another. - -“Now, when I took that saw of yours, I said to myself, ‘Here is a -joke I will play on M. Ferminard. What a temper he will be in when -he finds that I have outwitted him. He wishes to prevent my escape -so that he may not be left in loneliness? We will see.’ Well, M. -Ferminard, embarked on that course of action, I never stopped to think -that all the time I was cutting that bar I was violating your trust -in me. When I found that you did not open the sou to examine whether -its contents were safe, I should have paused to take counsel with -myself and inquire if liberty were worth the deception of a good and -honest mind which placed its faith in me. But I did not pause to take -counsel with myself, and for two reasons. First, as I said before, I -never stop to think when I am in action; secondly, I am so unused to -meeting with good and honest minds that I did not suspect one was in -the next cell to me. It is true, M. Ferminard. The men with whom I -have always lived have been men very much like myself. Men who do not -think much, and who, when they do think, are full of suspicion as a -rule. We are robbed by our servants, our wives, and our mistresses. We -cheat each other, not at cards, but with phrases and at the game of -Love, and so forth. You said you were of small extraction and one of -the _rafataille_—well, it is among the _rafataille_, among the People, -during the last few days that I have met three individuals who have -struck me as being the only worthy individuals it has been my lot to -meet. They are yourself, Monsieur Lavenne, and little Javotte, a girl -whom you do not know.” - -“Believe me, monsieur,” said Ferminard, “I have no unworthy thought -concerning you. At first, yes, but now after what you have said, no. I -am like that myself, and had I been in your place, I would, I am very -sure, have done as you did.” - -“Perhaps,” replied Rochefort. “But I cannot use the rope, so here it is -and I will leave my release from prison to God and M. de Sartines.” - -He began to push the rope through the hole. It would not go. Ferminard -was pushing it back. - -“No, M. de Rochefort—one moment till I speak—I have been blinded to -my best interests by my desire to keep you as a companion. You must -escape, you must do as Fate dictated to you, and to me, when she gave -us the fruits of the labours of M. de Thumery. Honestly, now that I -think of the matter, I do not trust M. de Sartines a whit. He put us -here to keep us out of the way. Well, it seems to me that considering -what we have done and what we know, it may be in his interest to keep -us here always. Take the rope, M. de Rochefort, use it, follow the -dictates of Fate, and don’t forget Ferminard. You will be able to free -me, perhaps, once you have gained freedom and the pardon of M. de -Choiseul.” - -Rochefort said nothing for a moment. He was thinking. - -“M. de Rochefort,” went on the other, “the more I consider this matter, -the more do I see the pointing of Fate. Take the rope and use it.” - -“Very well, then,” said Rochefort. “I will use it for your freedom as -well as mine. We will both escape.” - -“Impossible. How can I come through this hole?” - -“I will find a means. It is now ten o’clock, or at least I heard the -chime a moment ago when I was talking to you. Be prepared to leave your -cell. Can you climb down a rope?” - -“Yes, monsieur, I have done so once in my early days.” - -“Well, be prepared to do so again.” - -“But I do not see your meaning in the least.” - -“Never mind, you will soon.” - -“You frighten me.” - -“By my faith,” said Rochefort, laughing, “I am not easily frightened, -but if I were, I believe I should be frightened now. Put back your bed, -M. Ferminard, and when Bonvallot visits you on his last round pretend -to be asleep.” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE ESCAPE - - -“Very well, M. de Rochefort,” replied Ferminard. “I will do as you -tell me, though as I have just said, I do not know your meaning in the -least.” - -Rochefort heard him putting his bed back in its place. Then he set -about his preparations. He placed the rope under the mattress of his -own bed, and stripping the coverlet off, took the upper sheet away. -Having replaced the coverlet, he began tearing the sheet into long -strips. The sheet was about four feet broad and it gave him eight -strips, each about six inches broad by five feet in length. Four of -these he placed under the coverlet of his bed just as he had placed the -rope under the mattress, the other four he put in his pockets. - -Then he sat down on his chair, and, placing his elbows on the table and -his chin between his hands, began to review his plans, or rather the -new modification of them which the inclusion of Ferminard in his flight -necessitated. - -When Bonvallot appeared at his door on his last round of inspection, -Rochefort was seated like this. - -“Ah, ha!” said he, turning his head, “you are earlier to-night, it -seems to me.” - -“No, monsieur,” replied Bonvallot, “I am not before my time, for the -clock of the courtyard has struck eleven.” - -“Indeed. I did not hear it. Sound does not carry very well among these -stone walls, and though the courtyard clock is close to this cell, -and though it doesn’t whisper over its work, the sound is scarcely -perceptible. A man might shout in my cell, Monsieur Bonvallot, without -being heard very far.” - -“My faith, you are right,” said Bonvallot. “We had a lunatic of a -prisoner in No. 32 down the corridor, and it seemed to me that he -spent all his time shouting, but he disturbed no one. Our inn is well -constructed, you see, monsieur, so that the guests may have a quiet -time.” - -Rochefort rose from his chair, walked to the door, shut it, and put his -back against it. - -“Hi,” said Bonvallot, who had been bending to see if the water-pitcher -were empty. “What are you doing, monsieur?” - -“Nothing. I wish to have a word with you. I am leaving your inn -to-night and wish to settle my bill. Do not shout, you will not be -heard, and if you move from the place where you are standing——” - -Bonvallot, who had grown pale at the first words, suddenly, with head -down and arms outstretched, made a dash at Rochefort. The Count, -slipping aside, managed to trip him up, and next moment the gallant -Bonvallot was on the floor, half-stunned, bleeding from a wound on his -forehead, and with Rochefort kneeling across him, a knee on each arm so -as to keep him still. - -“Now see what you have done,” said the victor. “You might have killed -yourself. The wound is nothing, however, and you can charge for it in -the bill.” - -Bonvallot heaved a few inches as though trying to rise, then lay still. - -“There is no use in resisting,” went on the Count, “you have no chance -against me, Monsieur Bonvallot, nor have I any wish to harm you. -Besides, you will be well paid by me and that wound on your forehead -will prove that you did your duty like a man. Now turn on your face, I -wish to tie your hands for appearance’s sake.” - -Bonvallot in turning made an attempt to break loose and rise, but the -Count’s science was too much for him. Literally sitting on his back, -or rather on his shoulder-blades, Rochefort, with a strip of the sheet -which he took from his pocket, tied the captive’s wrists together. Then -he tied the ankles. - -“Monsieur,” said Bonvallot, craning his face round, “I make no further -resistance, but for the love of the Virgin, bind my knees together and -also gag me so that it may be seen that I did my duty.” - -“Rest assured,” said Rochefort. - -He bound the unfortunate’s knees and elbows, made a gag out of a -handkerchief and put it in his mouth. Then, taking ten louis from his -pocket, he showed them to the trussed one, and dropped them one by one -into the water-pitcher. - -Then he took Bonvallot’s keys, left the cell, opened the door of -Ferminard’s prison and found that gentleman seated on his bed, a vague -figure in the light of the moon, a few stray beams of which were -struggling through the window. - -“_Mordieu_!” said Ferminard, “what has happened?” - -Rochefort, instead of replying, seized him by the arm, and half -pushing, half pulling him, led him into the corridor. - -“Now,” said he, “quick; we have no time to waste, I have tied up -Bonvallot; but when he does not return to the guard-room they are sure -to search. There he is. He is not hurt. Come, help me to pull the bed -to the window.” - -Ferminard, after a glance at Bonvallot lying on the floor, obeyed -mechanically. They got the bed close up with the head-rail under the -window. Rochefort tied the rope to the head-rail, and, standing on the -bed and opening the sash, seized the bar. It came away in his hands, -and then, flinging it on the bed, he seized the rope which he had -coiled and flung it out. - -This done, he leaned out of the window-place and looked down. - -The moonlight lit the castle wall and the dangling rope and showed -the black shadow of the moat, a terrific sight that made Rochefort’s -stomach crawl and his throat close. This was no castle wall which he -had to descend. It was like looking over the cliff at the world’s end -or one of those terrific bastions of cloud which one sees sometimes -banking the sky before a storm. The moonlight it was that lent this -touch of vastness to the prospect below, a prospect that made the sweat -stand out on the palms of Rochefort’s hands and his soul to contract on -itself. - -It was a prospect to be met by the unthinking end of man if one wished -for any chance of success, so with a warning to Ferminard not to look -before he came, and having wedged two pillows under the rope where it -rested on the sill, Rochefort got one leg over the sill, straddled it, -got the other leg out and then turned on his face. He was now lying on -his stomach across the pillow that was forming a pad for the rope, and -as bad luck would have it, a knot in the rope just at this point did -not make the position any more comfortable. Then he slowly worked his -body downwards till he was supported only by his elbows; supporting -himself entirely with his left elbow, he seized with his right hand the -rope where it rested on the cushion, gave up his elbow hold and with -his left hand seized the sill. - -He was hanging now with one hand grasping the sill, the other, the -rope. The sill was no longer a window-sill, it was the tangible world, -to release his hold upon it and to trust entirely to the rope required -an effort of will far greater than one would think, so great that even -the plucky mind of Rochefort refused the idea for a moment, but only -for a moment, the next he was swinging loose. - -But for the pad made by the pillow, the rope would have rested so -close to the bevelled stone that he might not have been able to seize -it. As it was, his knuckles were bruised and cut, and, as he swung in -descending, now his shoulder, now his knee came in contact with the -wall. As the pendulum lengthened, these oscillations became terrific. -Then, all at once he recognized that the business was over; he was only -fifteen feet or so from the ground. - -The rope was some six feet short, and at the last few feet he dropped, -landed safely and then looked up at the wall and the window from which -he had come. - -Looking up it seemed nothing, and as he stood watching, and just as -the clock of Vincennes was chiming the quarter after eleven, he saw a -leg protrude from the window, then the body of Ferminard appeared, and -Rochefort held his breath as he watched the legs clutching themselves -round the rope and the body swinging free. He seized the rope-end and -held it to steady it. He had no reason at all, now, to fear; Ferminard -seemed as cool and methodical as a spider in his movements, came down -as calmly as a spider comes down its thread, released his hold at the -proper moment and landed safely. - -“_Mordieu_! but you did that easily,” whispered Rochefort, filled with -admiration and not knowing that Ferminard’s courage was due mainly -to an imagination that was not very keen and a head that vertigo did -not easily affect. “Now let us keep to the shadow of the moat for a -moment till that cloud comes over the moon. There are sentries on the -battlements.” - -“Monsieur,” whispered Ferminard, “it just occurred to me as I was -coming down the rope that when our flight is discovered, they may hunt -along the roads for us, but they will not warn the gates of Paris to be -on the look-out for us, simply because, were we caught, some of M. de -Choiseul’s agents might be at the catching, there would be talk, and -the discovery might be made that we had been imprisoned secretly to -keep us out of M. de Choiseul’s way.” - -“_Ma foi_!” said Rochefort, “there is truth in that—however, it -remains to be seen. Ah, here comes the shadow.” - -A cloud was slowly drawing across the moon’s face, and in the deep -shadow that swept across castle and road and country, the two fugitives -scrambled from the moat, found the road and started towards Paris. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -ROCHEFORT’S PLAN - - -That night, or, rather, early next morning, the Vicomte de Chartres was -returning to his house in the Rue Malaquais and had just entered the -street when, against the setting moon, he saw a form coming towards him -which he thought he recognized. - -It was Rochefort. - -Chartres was one of the few men in Paris whom Rochefort numbered as -his bosom friends. He could not believe his eyes at first, and when -Rochefort spoke, Chartres scarcely believed his ears. - -Rochefort, of whose flight all Paris was talking, Rochefort, the man -who was supposed to be far beyond the frontier, Rochefort in the Rue -Malaquais, walking along as calmly and jauntily as though nothing had -happened. - -“Ah, my dear fellow,” said Rochefort as they shook hands, “what a -fortunate meeting! Where have you sprung from?” - -Chartres broke into a laugh. - -“Where have I sprung from? You to ask that question! On the contrary, -my dear fellow, it is for me to ask where you have sprung from?” - -“Nowhere,” replied Rochefort, also laughing, “or at least from a place -I cannot talk of here in the street. I want shelter for the night and -a change of clothes; here is your house and we are both about the same -size, and I know you have always half a dozen new suits that you have -never worn. So, if you want my story, take me and clothe me, and let -me rest for a while before I set out on my mission to hunt for M. de -Choiseul.” - -“To hunt for M. de Choiseul! _Bon Dieu_! Are not you aware that he is -ransacking Paris and all France for you?” - -“Then we are both on the same business, and that being so, I think it -is highly probable we shall meet.” - -He followed Chartres into the house, where in the library and armoury -his host lit lamps and produced wine. - -The clock on the mantel pointed to two o’clock. - -“And now, my dear fellow,” said Chartres, “tell me all about yourself, -where have you been, what have you been doing, and what is this -nonsense you are saying about hunting for M. de Choiseul.” - -“Well, as to what I have been doing, I can answer you simply that I -have been in retirement in the country.” - -“Where?” - -“In the Castle of Vincennes.” - -“The Castle of Vincennes!” - -“Precisely. Sartines put me there to hide me from Choiseul. I would -not tell you this only that I know you are entirely to be trusted. He -did not want Choiseul to lay his hands on me, so he arrested me under -another name, but with my consent, and popped me into Vincennes, where -I have been for the last few days.” - -“Yes?” - -“Well, my dear Chartres, no sooner did I find myself in prison there -than I found that I did not like it.” - -“I can understand that.” - -“And though Sartines had put me there for my own good—so he said—and -to keep me from being imprisoned by Choiseul, it began to dawn on me -that I had been a fool.” - -“Ah, that began to dawn on you.” - -“I said to myself, ‘Sartines is no doubt the best soul in the world, -but the best souls are sometimes selfish.’ I said to myself, ‘Sartines -has compromised himself in a way by playing this game with Choiseul, -and hiding me from him.’ I said to myself, ‘Sartines, however kind he -may be, is not the man to compromise himself by letting me out whilst -Choiseul has any power in France.’ In fact, I felt that were I to -remain passive, I would be saved from M. de Choiseul, but I would still -be a prisoner, and that, perhaps, for years, so I determined to escape, -to go straight to Choiseul and to tell him frankly the truth about the -business for which he wished to apprehend me.” - -“I have heard that you killed a man,” said Chartres. - -“I did. And that man was one of Choiseul’s agents, but he was a ruffian -who was molesting a girl, and whom I caught in the act. I followed him, -he attacked me and I killed him in fair fight.” - -“Can the girl give evidence?” - -“Yes.” - -“Then why on earth, my dear fellow, did you resist arrest that night -when M. Camus was deputed to arrest you? I had the whole story from -Monpavon.” - -“I resisted arrest because I wanted to go to Paris to meet a woman who -had given me an appointment.” - -The Vicomte de Chartres, who was five years older than Rochefort in -time, and fifty in discretion, moved in his chair uneasily. - -He was fond of Rochefort, and nothing had surprised him more in the -last few days than the Rochefort episode. The fact that Rochefort had -killed a man was easily understandable, but that Rochefort had evaded -arrest instead of facing the business was an action that he could not -understand, simply because it was an action unlike Rochefort. - -Here had a man gone against his true nature and placed himself in the -last position, that of a murderer flying from justice—for what reason? -To keep an appointment with a woman. - -Unhappily the reason cleared everything up. - -It was exactly—arguing from the reason—the thing that Rochefort might -be expected to do. - -“But did you not consider that for the sake of keeping this confounded -appointment you were risking everything—losing everything. _Mon Dieu_! -it makes me shudder. Did you not think, my dear man, did you not think?” - -“Ah, think!” said the other, “a lot you would think were you in that -position. Had he deputed any man for the business but Camus, it might -have been different; but to be told, in effect, by Camus, a man I -despise, that I was not to go to Paris, but to remain at Versailles, -a prisoner of Choiseul’s, well, it was too much! No, I did not think. -There is no use in saying to me what I ought to have done. I ought, of -course, to have followed Camus like a lamb, faced Choiseul like a lion, -and cleared the matter up. As it was, I showed the front of a lion to -Camus and the tail of a fox to Choiseul. That was bad policy—but it -was inevitable. It seems to me, Chartres, that the whole of this was -like a play written by Fate for me to act in. Camus had been my friend. -After I had rescued that girl, of whom I told you, from Choiseul’s -ruffianly agent, Camus tried to assault her and I struck him in the -face. That was Fate. He did not return the blow or seek a duel, he -wanted revenge, and behold, when Choiseul put out his hand for someone -to arrest me, whom should he employ but Camus—that also was Fate. The -girl I served is the servant of the woman I spoke of, and the woman was -the friend of Choiseul’s dearest enemy, the Comtesse Dubarry. That was -Fate. To serve the woman I mixed myself up with the business of the -Presentation, and so have given Choiseul an extra grudge against me. -That was Fate. And stay—just before my row with Camus, he had imparted -to me a plot which Choiseul was preparing against the Dubarry, a plot -which I refused to mix myself with and the gist of which I disclosed to -the Dubarry. There again was Fate.” - -“_Mon Dieu_!” said Chartres, “what a tangle you have got yourself into. -But tell me this, does Choiseul know that you disclosed this plot of -his to the Dubarry?” - -“He is sure to know. Camus is certain to have told him that he -disclosed the business to me, and as I visited the Dubarry’s house that -same night, and as I believe his agents were watching the house—there -you are.” - -“You visited the house of the Dubarry the same night that Camus told -you of the plot—why did you do such a foolish thing?” - -“Fate. I escorted the girl I had rescued home to see her safe—and what -house did she bring me to but the house of the Dubarrys. I was giving -her a kiss in the passage when Jean Dubarry appeared, he invited me -in, I came, the woman I spoke of was there, and at the sight of her, -knowing that she was the Countess’ friend, I flung in my part with the -Dubarrys and told of the plot. I was not breaking a trust, I had made -no promise of secrecy, the thing had disgusted me—and I told.” - -“And the name of this woman for whose sake you have got yourself into -this dreadful mess?” - -“Ah, now you are asking me to tell something that I would not tell to -anyone but yourself—it was Mademoiselle Fontrailles.” - -“Mademoiselle Fontrailles—why only yesterday——” - -“Yes?” - -“Well, I heard—it is said—but I don’t know how much truth there is in -the story, that she is in love with Camus.” - -Rochefort laughed. - -“Camus again and Fate again.” - -“But there may be no truth in it. Some fool told me, I forget who, -Joyeuse, I think. You know how stories run about Paris.” - -“It is true,” said Rochefort, “it is the only thing wanting to make -the business complete. Whilst I have been tucked away at Vincennes, -Monsieur Camus has improved his time. You know the way he has with -women. Well, I do not care; that is to say about the girl, but I will -make things even with Camus.” - -“First, my dear fellow, make things right with Choiseul, that is to -say, if you can. And if I were you, I would not trouble about Camus or -the girl. She will be punished enough if she has anything to do with -him.” - -“Well, we will see,” said Rochefort. “We will see, when I have finished -with Choiseul. Is he in Paris?” - -“No, he is at Versailles, but he is coming to Paris to-morrow, or -rather to-day, since it is now nearly three o’clock in the morning. I -know he is coming, simply because he has invited me to a reception at -his house in the Faubourg St. Honoré.” - -“Ah, he is holding a reception. When?” - -“This very day at nine o’clock in the evening.” - -“Good. I will go to it.” - -“You will go to it—but he will arrest you!” - -“Not in his own house. I would be his guest.” - -“But you have not been invited, and so you would not be his guest.” - -“Well, my dear Chartres, you know how Choiseul always permits a friend -of his to bring a friend to his receptions. You must take me with you.” - -“Take you with me! My dear fellow, you are asking what is quite -impossible.” - -“Why?” - -“Why—well, to be frank with you, it is necessary for me to stand well -with Choiseul, and if I were to do that I would damage my position at -Court.” - -“What I like about you,” said Rochefort, “is your perfect frankness. -Another man would have excused himself, said that he had already -invited a friend, and so forth; but you state your own selfish reason, -and that is precisely what I would have done in your place. Well, I can -assure you that you will not damage your position in the least. First -of all, I am going to make peace with Choiseul; secondly, if I fail, -you can tell him that the whole fault was mine and that you understood -from me that I had put myself right with him. I will bear you out in -that. There is no danger to you, and think what fun it will be to see -his face when I appear.” - -Chartres hung on this fascinating prospect for a moment. - -“All the same,” said he, “I think, in your own interests, you are -wrong—the whole thing is mad.” - -“So is the whole situation, my dear man. I want to get a word alone -with Choiseul. I cannot reach him in any other way. If I went to see -him at Versailles I would be taken by the guards and I would only see -him across drawn swords. If I went to interview him at his house the -_concierge_ would pass me to the major-domo, and the major-domo would -show me into a waiting-room, and Choiseul, ten to one, when he heard -I had called, would order my arrest without even seeing me. No. This -reception of his was arranged by Fate for me, of that I feel sure, as -sure as I am that I will make things even with Camus before to-morrow.” - -“You seem to count a good deal on Fate, yet it seems to me she has not -treated you very kindly.” - -“Ah,” said Rochefort, laughing, “that is because you do not know how -she treated me in the Castle of Vincennes. I assure you, I have made -entire friends with the lady——” He paused for a moment and then -looked up at Chartres. - -“When we talk of Fate, my friend, we always refer to our own persons -and fortunes; when we receive a buffet in life we never consider that -the shock may come to us, not directly from Fate, but indirectly as -the result of a blow struck at some other person, just as at the Lycée -Louis le Grand, one boy would strike another so that he would fall -against the next, and he against the next. Well, Fate in this case is -decidedly on my side, since she protected me till now at Vincennes -and gave me my release on the day of Choiseul’s reception, and threw -me into your arms in the Rue Malaquais. If she is with me she cannot -be with the persons who are against me, that is to say, Camus and the -Fontrailles, if she cares for Camus. - -“Fate, my dear Chartres, seems to me to be hitting at these two, and I -reckon the blows I have received, not as blows aimed directly against -me, but as blows I have received indirectly and by _contre coup_.” - -“You are becoming a philosopher,” said Chartres, laughing. - -“Well, we will see,” replied Rochefort. “I believe I am on the winning -side, the indications are with me—well, do you still refuse to take me -with you to Choiseul’s?” - -“No, my dear Rochefort, I do not refuse, simply because I cannot—and -for this reason: The thing you propose is distasteful to me, but it is -a matter of urgency with you, and though you may be wrong, still, if -the case was reversed, I know you would do for me what I am going to do -for you. I will take you to Choiseul’s.” - -“Thank you,” said Rochefort. “I will never forget it to you. And now as -to clothes. I am unable to go or send for anything to my place, can you -dress me as well as take me to this pleasant party of Choiseul’s?” - -“Without doubt. My wardrobe is at your disposal—and now, if you will -have no more wine, it is time to go to bed. I will have a bed made up -for you.” - -He called a servant and gave instructions as to the preparation of a -room. As they were going upstairs, Rochefort remembered Ferminard, with -whom he had parted outside the walls of Paris. - -Ferminard had refused to enter by the Porte St. Antoine, preferring -to make his way round to the Maison Gambrinus and take shelter there. -Rochefort had entered by the Porte St. Antoine, not on his legs, but -by means of a market gardener’s cart which they had overtaken. He -had given the gardener a few francs for the lift, and, pretending -intoxication, had entered Paris lying on some sacks of potatoes, -presumably asleep and certainly snoring. - -Having been shown to his bedroom, Rochefort undressed and went to bed, -where he slept as soundly as a child till Germain, Chartres’ valet, -awoke him at nine o’clock. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE HONOUR OF LAVENNE - - -That same morning, it will be remembered, Sartines received the visit -of the Vicomte Jean, and also Captain Pierre Cousin, the governor of -Vincennes, who came in person with the news of Rochefort’s escape. - -Having dismissed Cousin, Sartines, perplexed, distracted, furious with -himself, Rochefort, Choiseul, and the world in general, put aside the -letters on which he had been engaged and rising from his chair began to -walk up and down the room. - -Everything now depended on what Rochefort would do. With Rochefort and -Ferminard safe in Vincennes, Sartines felt safe. He knew instinctively -that Choiseul was deeply suspicious about the affair of the -Presentation. He knew for a fact that Choiseul had, through an agent, -questioned the Comtesse de Béarn before she left Paris, and that the -Comtesse, like the firm old woman she was, had refused to say a single -word on the matter. She had, in fact, refused for two reasons. First: -she had the two hundred thousand francs which the Dubarrys had paid her -tight clutched in her hand. Secondly: she was too proud to acknowledge -to the world how she had been tricked. Such a scandal would become -historical, but not if she could help it with a de Béarn in the chief -part. - -There was no one to talk, then, but Rochefort and Ferminard, the chief -actor—and they who had been in safe keeping were now loose. - -In the midst of his meditations, a knock came to the door and the usher -announced that Lavenne had arrived and wished to speak to the Minister. -Sartines ordered him to be sent up at once. No visitor would be more -welcome. The absence of Lavenne had been disturbing him for the last -few days, for this man so fruitful in advice and expedient had become -as the right hand of the Minister. Of all the clever people about him, -Lavenne was the man whom he felt to be absolutely essential. - -“_Mordieu_!” cried de Sartines, when Lavenne entered. “What has -happened to you?” - -He drew back a step. - -The man before him looked ten years older than when he had seen him -last, his face was white and pinched, his eyes were bloodshot, and the -pupils seemed unnaturally dilated. - -“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, resting his hand on a chair-back as if -for support, “I have had a bad time, but I will soon get over it. -Meanwhile, I have an important report to make.” - -“Sit down,” said de Sartines. - -He rang the bell and ordered some wine to be sent up immediately. “And -now,” said he, when the other had set down his glass, “tell me first -where have you come from?” - -“I have come from the Catacombs of Paris, monsieur, where I have been -trapped and wandering since I don’t know when.” - -“From the Catacombs?” - -“Yes, monsieur, or rather from the plain of Mont Souris to which the -gallery which I pursued led me.” - -“But what were you doing in the Catacombs?” - -“Trying to escape, monsieur, and I can only say this, that I hope never -to have a similar experience.” - -Then rapidly he began to tell of his visit to Camus’ house, of the -laboratory, of what he had seen, and of his escape. - -“I had to choose between three corridors, monsieur, and the one I chose -led me to a blank wall. I had to come back, which took me a day. I had -to go most of the time in darkness to husband the candles I had with me. - -“The new corridor I chose led me right at last, but the last was a -long time coming. Several times I fell asleep and must have slept -many hours. I would have died of exhaustion had I not found water. At -several places I found water trickling through crevices of the rock -and I had to cross one fairly big pool. I had to walk always, feeling -my way with one foot. My progress was slow. At last I came to the old -grating which guards the entrance to the Catacombs on the plain of -Mont Souris. There I might have died had not my cries attracted the -attention of a man, who, obtaining assistance, broke down the bars and -freed me. That was yesterday evening. He took me to his cottage, and -then after I had taken some food I fell into a sleep that lasted till -late this morning.” - -Lavenne’s story filled Sartines with such astonishment that he forgot -for a moment the main business in hand, that is to say, Rochefort. It -was Lavenne who recalled him to it. - -“And now that I have told you my story, monsieur,” said he, “let -us forget it, for there are matters of much more importance to be -considered. I have been out of the world practically for four days. Is -Count Camus still alive?” - -He had told Sartines about the poisoning of the silver dagger, but he -had not told him all. - -“Alive,” said the Minister, “oh, yes, he is very much alive, or was so -late last night. Why do you ask?” - -“Because, monsieur, before leaving the room I told you of, I drew that -dagger from its sheath and inserted it again, but I took particular -care to insert it the other way about.” - -“The other way about?” - -“Yes, monsieur. It fitted the sheath either way.” - -“So that if Camus uses it,” cried Sartines, starting from his chair, -“if the gentleman of the Italian school uses his fruit knife in the way -that the poisoning of the blade suggests, it is he himself who will -suffer?” - -“Precisely, monsieur; I had only a moment to think in. I said to -myself, this wicked blade has been prepared for the slaying of an -innocent woman, he has already tried to kill her with a prepared rose, -he failed, he killed Atalanta instead, the death of his Majesty’s -favourite dog drew me into the business, and now I am made by God his -judge. I said to myself—There is no use at all trying to bring this -gentleman to justice by ordinary means, he is too clever, his poisons -are too artfully prepared, he will surely give us the slip. Let his own -hand deal him justice, and I reversed the dagger in its sheath.” - -“_Mordieu_!” said de Sartines, “that was at least a quick road. But the -handle of the dagger, will he not notice that it has been reversed?” - -“No, monsieur, for the pattern of the handle was the same on both -sides, whereas the patterns on the sides of the sheath were widely -different.” - -Sartines sat down again; for a moment he said nothing; he seemed -plunged in thought. - -“That was four days ago,” said he at last, “yet nothing has happened. -Both Camus and his wife are alive and very much in evidence.” - -“Have they met much, monsieur?” - -“As far as I can say, no, for Madame Camus has been at Versailles for -the last couple of days.” - -“When I asked had they met much, monsieur, I should have asked, have -they met at any public entertainment or banquet, for it is then that -the deed will be done, openly and before witnesses. For that is the -essence of the whole business. It would be quite easy for Count Camus -to poison his wife at home and in secret, but it is necessary for him -to say, ‘I only met her once in the last so many days, we were quite -good friends, so much so, that we shared an apple together. Do you -suggest that I poisoned the apple? Well, considering that I ate half -of it and that I did not touch it beyond taking it from the dish and -cutting it in two such a suggestion is absurd.—And here is the knife -itself. I always use it for cutting fruit, see, the blade is silvered -on purpose, take it, test it for poison——’ So, monsieur, you see my -drift. The deed will be done at some public entertainment, and I ask -you, have they met at such an entertainment where the thing would be -feasible?” - -“No,” said Sartines, speaking slowly and raising his eyes from the -floor where they had been resting. “But they will to-night.” - -“To-night?” - -“I believe so. M. de Choiseul is holding a reception at his house in -the Rue Faubourg St. Honoré. Camus, who is in love with Mademoiselle -Fontrailles, will surely be there, and the girl will surely be there, -since the Dubarrys are now friends with Choiseul—for the moment—and -since Madame Camus is a friend of Madame de Choiseul, she will be -there.” - -“Then, monsieur,” said Lavenne, “I will not give a _denier_ for M. -Camus’ life after midnight to-night.” - -“He will save the hangman some trouble,” said Sartines, taking a pinch -of snuff. “And it will be interesting to watch—yes—very interesting -to watch.” Then suddenly his face changed in expression. “_Dame_! I -forgot, all this put it out of my head. Rochefort has left Vincennes.” - -“M. de Rochefort left Vincennes!” cried Lavenne. “Since when, monsieur?” - -“He escaped last night.” - -“But—but,” said Lavenne. “He had agreed to stay. He quite understood -his danger. This is strange news, monsieur.” - -“He must have got tired of prison,” said Sartines. “That devil of a -man never could be easy anywhere, and not only that, he has let out -Ferminard.” - -“But how did they escape, monsieur?” - -“How, by means of a rope which M. de Rochefort must have woven out of -nothing in three days, by means of a file which he must have invented -out of nothing for the purpose of cutting his window-bar, by half -strangling the gaoler and leaving him tied up on the floor—I do not -know, the thing was a miracle, but it was done.” - -“And you have heard nothing of him this morning?” - -“Nothing.” - -“Now,” said Lavenne, talking as if to himself, “I wonder what his -motive was in doing that? I explained to him and he understood——” - -“He had no motive, he is a man who acts on impulse.” - -“Has he been visited in prison, monsieur?” - -“No. I was sending Captain Beauregard to see him this morning, but it -was too late.” - -“Has he been treated well?” - -“Excellently. Captain Pierre Cousin, who came to me with the news this -morning, vouched for his good treatment.” - -“Did he say anything to Captain Cousin that might give a clue to his -motive?” - -“No, Captain Cousin never saw him.” - -“Never saw him?” - -“Well, it seems that he has been very busy with the half-yearly reports -and accounts of Vincennes, and the governor in any case does not visit -new prisoners as a matter of routine.” - -“Ah,” said Lavenne. “One can fancy M. de Rochefort imagining himself -neglected and getting restive, but I cannot imagine where he could have -got the means of escape.” - -“Nor can anyone else,” replied de Sartines. - -He looked up. The usher had knocked at the door and was entering the -room, a letter in his hand. - -“Who brought it?” asked Sartines, taking the letter. - -“I don’t know, monsieur, a man left it and went away saying that there -was no answer.” - -He withdrew and the Minister opened the letter. - -He cast his eyes over the contents and then handed it to Lavenne. - - “DEAR SARTINES,” ran this short and explicit communication, “I - hope to have the pleasure of meeting you to-night at the Duc de - Choiseul’s reception. I have left Vincennes, it was too dull. - Meanwhile, do not be troubled in the least. I hope to make - everything right with Choiseul. - - “Yours, - “DE ROCHEFORT.” - -“Well, monsieur,” said Lavenne, returning the letter, which he had read -with astonishment, but without the slightest alteration of expression, -“we have now, at least, a clue to M. de Rochefort’s plans.” - -Sartines was white with anger. - -“A clue to M. de Rochefort’s plans. Is the Hôtel de Sartines to sit -down, then, and wait for M. de Rochefort to develop his plans?” He had -taken his seat, but he rose again and began to walk up and down a few -steps, his hands behind his back, his fingers twitching at his ruffles. -“M. de Rochefort finds the Château de Vincennes too dull, he leaves it -just as I would leave this room, he comes to Paris to amuse himself -and he sends me a note that he hopes to meet me at M. de Choiseul’s. -Delightful. But since it is my wish that he should not have left the -Château de Vincennes, that he should not be in Paris, that instead of -visiting the Duc de Choiseul, he should be ten thousand leagues away -from the Duc de Choiseul—it seems to me, considering all these things, -that I have been ill-served by my servants, by my agents, and by the -police who have the safe keeping of the order of his Majesty’s city of -Paris.” - -Lavenne looked on and listened. When Sartines was taken with anger in -this particular way, he literally stood on his dignity, and seemed to -be addressing the Parliament. - -“What, then, has happened to us?” went on the Minister. “We have lost -touch with our genius, it seems. Are we the Hôtel de Sartines or the -Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts?” Then, blazing out, “By my name and the -God above me, I will dismiss every man who has touched this business, -from the gaoler at Vincennes to the man who received that letter and -allowed the bearer to take his departure.” - -“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “it is less the fault of your servants than -of events. M. de Rochefort is free, but you need have no fear of the -consequences.” - -“Do you not understand,” said Sartines, in an icy voice, speaking -slowly, as though to let each word sink home to the mind of the -listener, “that if M. le Duc de Choiseul takes this Rochefort in his -net he will not be satisfied with imprisoning him. ‘For the good of the -State,’ that will be his excuse—he will question him by means of the -Rack and the Question by Water. Or rather, he will only have to mention -their names and Rochefort will tell all. Why should he shelter the -Dubarrys whom he hates? And once he tells, we are all lost. His Majesty -would never forgive the affair of the Presentation—never—and now we -have this precious Rochefort walking right into M. de Choiseul’s arms.” - -“There is nothing to fear, monsieur, I have in my pocket something that -will act on M. de Choiseul as a powerful bit acts on a restive horse. -It is no less than a letter which M. de Choiseul wrote on the night of -the Presentation.” - -He took Choiseul’s letter from his pocket and handed it to Sartines. - -“Where did you get this from?” asked Sartines when he had finished -reading it. - -Lavenne told. - -“Ah,” said the other. “Well, this simplifies everything indeed. This -is the bowstring. _Mon Dieu_! was the man mad to write this? At once I -shall take this to his Majesty and lay it before him with my own hands.” - -“No, monsieur,” said Lavenne. - -“Ah! What did you say?” - -“I said no, monsieur. The letter is not mine, or at least only mine to -hold as a means for the protection of M. de Rochefort. I promised the -girl I told you of to keep it for that purpose.” - -“Why, _Mon Dieu_!” cried Sartines, “I believe you are dictating to me -what course of action I should take!” - -“No, monsieur, or only as regards that letter and—a thing which is -very precious to me—my honour.” - -“Your honour. My faith! An agent of mine coming to me and talking of -his honour where a business of State is concerned.” Then, flying out, -“What has that to do with me?” - -“Oh, monsieur,” said Lavenne coldly, and in a voice perfectly unshaken, -“have you lived all these years in the world, and have you faced -Paris and the Court so long in your capacity as Minister of Police -that you set such a light price on honour. You value the keen sword -of Verpellieux, the acuteness of Fremin, the cleverness of Jumeau, -but what would all these men be worth to you if they could be bought? -I have never spoken to you of the many times I could have accepted -bribes in small matters, but the fact remains that without hurting you -I could have accumulated fair sums of money. I did not, simply because -something in me refused absolutely to play a double part. You know -yourself how often I could have enriched myself by selling important -secrets to your enemies. Where would you have been then? And the -thing that saved you was not Lavenne, but the something that prevented -Lavenne from betraying you. I call that something Honour. If it has -another name it does not matter. The thing is the same. Well, I have -pledged that something with regard to this letter, and if I do not -redeem the pledge I will be no longer Lavenne, but a secret service -agent of very little use to you, monsieur. That is all I wish to say.” - -De Sartines took a few turns up and down. Then he folded up the letter -and handed it back to Lavenne. From de Sartines’ point of view the word -Honour belonged entirely to his own class. It was the name of a thing -used among gentlemen, a thing appertaining to the higher orders. He had -never considered it in relation to the _Rafataille_, had he done so he -would have considered the relationship absurd. - -According to his view of it, Honour, even amongst the nobility, was -a very lean figure. Splendidly dressed, but very lean and capable of -being doubled up and packed away without any injury to it. - -A man must resent an insult sword in hand. - -A man must not cheat at cards—or be caught cheating at cards. - -A man may lie as much as he pleases, but he must kill another man who -calls him a liar. - -These were the chief articles in his code. - -Sartines himself was almost destitute of the principles of Honour as we -know it, just as he was almost wanting in the principles of Mercy as -we know it. Witness that relative of his whom he had kept imprisoned -in the Bastille for private ends and who was only released by the -Revolutionaries of July. - -Still, he had his code, and he talked of Honour and he considered it as -an attribute of his station in life. - -Lavenne just now had shown him a new side of the question, shown him in -a flash that what he had always called the Fidelity of his subordinates -was in reality a principle. He had always taken it as a personal -tribute. He saw now that in the case of Lavenne, at least, it had to -do with Lavenne himself, and secondarily only with de Sartines. And it -was a principle that must not be tampered with, for on its integrity -depended M. de Sartines’ safety and welfare. - -He knew, besides, that the letter was in safe hands and that the wise -Lavenne, in using it for the protection of Rochefort, would use it also -for the protection of de Sartines. And away at the back of his mind -there was the ghost of an idea that this terrible letter was safest for -all parties in the hands of Lavenne. - -Therefore he returned it. - -“What you say is just, here is the letter. I will trust you to use it -not only for the protection of M. de Rochefort, but in my interests if -necessary. That is to say, of course, the interest of the State.” - -“Thank you, monsieur,” replied the other, rising from his chair. “And -now I must find M. de Rochefort if possible—though I have very little -hope of doing so before to-night.” - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE GATHERING STORM - - -Lavenne, when he left the Hôtel de Sartines, made straight for the Rue -St. Dominic. He wanted to find Rochefort and he fancied that Javotte -might know of the Count’s whereabouts. - -He stopped at the door of the house where Camille Fontrailles’ -apartments were, rang and was admitted by the _concierge_. - -Scarcely had he made the inquiry as to whether Mademoiselle Javotte -were at home when Javotte herself appeared descending the stairs and -ready dressed for the street. - -“Why, monsieur,” said Javotte, “it is strange that you have called at -this moment, for in a very short time you would not have found me. I am -leaving.” - -“Leaving?” - -“Yes, monsieur, and at this moment I am going to call a _fiacre_ to -remove my things to a room I have taken in the Rue Jussac close to -here.” - -He accompanied her into the street. - -“And why are you leaving?” asked Lavenne. “Have you quarrelled with -your mistress?” - -“No, monsieur, she quarrelled with me.” - -“Well, well,” said Lavenne, “these things will happen. I called to ask, -did you know of the whereabouts of M. de Rochefort?” - -“No, monsieur, I do not, and strangely enough, it was concerning M. de -Rochefort that my quarrel arose with Mademoiselle Fontrailles.” - -“Aha! that is strange. Tell me about it.” - -“It was this way, monsieur. That night when M. de Rochefort had the -dispute with M. de Choiseul, he took shelter here. He came to see -Mademoiselle Fontrailles, she was not here, he asked for shelter and -I gave it to him. He slept in my room, whilst I took the room of my -mistress. Well, it appeared that the _concierge_ talked, and yesterday -Mademoiselle Fontrailles asked me what I meant by harbouring a man here -for the night. I was furious; before I could reply two gentlemen were -announced, M. Dubarry and Count Camus. - -“Count Camus was the man who insulted me that night when M. de -Rochefort rescued me, and when the gentlemen were gone I said to -Mademoiselle, ‘I would sooner harbour a gentleman here for the night -than allow a ruffian to kiss my hand.’ - -“She asked me what I meant. I told her, and I told her that M. de -Rochefort had smacked Comte Camus’ face. - -“Her face fired up so that I knew the truth at once. She is in love -with him, monsieur, and I was so furious at the false charge she had -made about me that I lost all discretion. I said, ‘It is easy to see -your feelings for that man; as for me, though I am only a poor girl, I -would choose for a lover, if not a gentleman, at least not a cur-dog -who snaps at women’s dresses and who runs away when kicked by a man.’” - -“And what did she say to that?” - -“She boxed my ears, monsieur. She is infatuated. Ah, monsieur, what -is it that she can see in a man so horrible to look at, so evil, and -so cruel; for he is cruel, and I swear to you the sight of him makes -me shudder, and would make me shudder even if I had not personally -experienced his baseness.” - -“I do not know,” replied Lavenne; “nor can I possibly say why this man -should affect two persons so differently. He is, as you say, a terrible -man, and your innocence, or what is kindly in your nature, is revolted -by him; as for your late mistress, why, we must suppose there is -something in her nature that is attracted by him. But she is treading -on dangerous ground, for should Madame Camus die and should she marry -him, she would find herself under the thumb of a very strange master. -Now, listen to me, Mademoiselle Javotte. I have still in my pocket -that letter which you gave me, and I hope to make it useful to M. de -Rochefort. What is the number of the house in the Rue Jussac which will -be your new abode?” - -“No. 3, monsieur.” - -“Well, it is important for me to know your address as I may want you. I -may even want you to-night, so be at home.” - -“I will, monsieur—and M. de Rochefort?” - -Lavenne smiled. - -“Set your mind at rest. He is in danger, very great danger, but I hope -to save him.” - -“In danger?” - -“Yes, but I hope to save him. He is in Paris, I do not know his -address, but I shall see him to-night.” - -“Ah—in danger—” said Javotte. “I shall not rest till I hear that he -is safe.” - -“You care for him so much as that?” - -“Oh, monsieur, I care for him much more.” - -Lavenne left her. “Now there is a faithful heart,” said he. “Ah, if -M. de Rochefort had only the genius to see that friend of all friends, -the woman who loves him!—And why not. Madame la Comtesse Dubarry was -a shop-girl. She had only a pretty face. And here we have the pretty -face, but so much more also.” - -He dismissed Javotte from his mind, concentrating his attention on the -events of the forthcoming evening, on the Duc de Choiseul’s reception, -which he felt to be the point towards which all these diverse fortunes -were tending. Lavenne half divined the truth that the life of society -is really the agglutination of a thousand stories, each story -containing so many characters working out a definite plot towards a -definite, and sometimes to an indefinite, _dénouement_. He felt that -in this especial business in which he was engaged the story, beginning -with the Presentation of the Comtesse Dubarry, was about to find its -_dénouement_ at the reception of the Duc de Choiseul, and he could not -help contemplating all the complex interests involved, their reaction -one on the other and the manner in which they were being drawn together -towards one definite point. Sartines’ fortune was at stake, Rochefort’s -liberty, Camus’ life, Camille Fontrailles’ future, Javotte’s love and -Choiseul’s position as a Minister. - -The thing seemed to have been arranged by some dramatist—or shall we -say some chemist, who had slowly brought together, one by one, all -these diverse elements that wanted now only the last touch, the last -drop of acid or spark of fire to produce the culminating explosion. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE DUC DE CHOISEUL’S RECEPTION - - -Choiseul’s position in the world was a doubly difficult one. He was -continually fighting for his life, and he had to conduct the battle in -a silk coat that must never be creased and ruffles that must ever be -immaculate. He had to parry dagger thrusts with a smile, kiss hands -whose owners he hated, laugh when most severely smitten and turn -defeats into epigrams. - -The Comte de Stainville, now Duc de Choiseul, was well qualified, -however, by nature and by training for the difficult position that he -held. - -The genius that had prompted him, when Comte de Stainville, to make an -ally of his enemy the Pompadour, did not desert him when, under the -title of Duc de Choiseul, he was created Prime Minister in 1758. - -Choiseul was the man who almost averted the French Revolution. He was -the first of the real friends of Liberty not dressed as a Philosopher, -and the greatest Minister after Colbert. He had his littlenesses, -his weaknesses; he made great mistakes, allowed impulse to sway him -occasionally, and could be extremely pitiless on occasion. He did not -disdain to use the meanest weapons, yet he was great and far more human -than the majority of the men of his time, than Terray, or de Maupeou, -or de Sartines, or d’Aiguillon, or d’Argeson, more human even than -the men who were beginning to babble about Humanity. He did not write -“The Social Contract,” but he destroyed the tyranny of the Jesuits in -France. He did not profess to love his own family, but at least he did -not desert his own children after the fashion of M. Jean Jacques. - -To-night, as he stood to receive his guests, he looked precisely the -same as on the last occasion, less than a week ago, when, standing in -his own house, he had received his guests with the certainty in his -mind that the Presentation would not take place. But he showed nothing -of his defeat. - -De Sartines was among the first to arrive. As Minister of Police it -was his duty to guard the safety of the Prime Minister of France on -all occasions, and more especially at State functions, balls, and -receptions, even when these receptions, functions or balls took place -at the Minister’s own house. - -There were always dangerous people ready for mischief—Damiens was an -example of that—lunatics and fanatics, and to-night, as usual, several -agents of the Hôtel de Sartines were among the servants of Choiseul and -indistinguishable from them. But to-night, for certain reasons, the -occasion was so especial that Lavenne was present, watchful, seeing all -things, but unseen, or rather unnoticed, by everyone. - -Sartines passed with the first of the crowd into the great _salon_ -where Madame de Choiseul was receiving. Here, when he had made his bow, -he found himself buttonholed by M. de Duras, the old gentleman who -knew everything about everyone and their affairs. The same, it will -be remembered, who had explained Camille Fontrailles to Camus on that -night of the ball. - -“Ah, M. le Comte,” cried this purveyor of news, - -“I thought I was too early, but now that I see you, I feel my position -more regular. I came here chiefly to-night to make sure that Madame la -Princesse de Guemenée was not present. You have heard the news? No? -Well, there has been a great quarrel. It is entirely between ourselves, -but the Princesse de Guemenée and Madame de Choiseul have quarrelled, -so much so that the Princesse has not been invited.” - -“Indeed!” said de Sartines, “I have heard nothing of it.” - -“All the same, it is a fact—and the fact is rather scandalous. It was -this way——” - -“Madame la Princesse de Guemenée,” came the voice of the usher as the -Princesse, smiling, entered and made her bow to Madame de Choiseul. - -“Yes,” said Sartines, “you were going to say?” - -“Why, that is the lady herself. Yet the facts were given to me on -unimpeachable authority. They must have made the matter up between -them. _Ma foi_! women are adaptable creatures. One can never count on -them—as, for instance, the Dubarry. She is hand in glove with the -Choiseuls now, and that great fat Jean Dubarry swears by his friend -Choiseul; one might fancy them brothers to hear Jean talking, but I -would like to hear Choiseul’s view of the matter. Ah, there is Count -Camus, he seems quite recovered from the blow that M. de Rochefort gave -him—what an affair!—a fine, open-hearted man, Camus, and only for -that vile smallpox he would not be bad-looking, but beauty is only skin -deep and it is the man who counts after all. Have you heard the news -about Rochefort?” - -“No,” said Sartines with a little start. “Have you heard anything -fresh?” - -“Oh, _ma foi_! yes. He is in Germany. Managed to make his escape, -fool. I always said he would make a mess of his affairs, but I never -thought he would have gone the length he did.” - -“Oh, in Germany, is he?” said Sartines, wishing sincerely that the news -was true. - -“Yes. He made his escape from France in the disguise of a pedlar. I -had the news only yesterday. Ah, there is Mademoiselle Fontrailles, -with Mademoiselle Chon Dubarry and the Vicomte Jean. What did I tell -you? Hand in glove, hand in glove. She looks well, the Fontrailles. -Cold as an icicle, but beautiful. And they say she has a fortune of a -million francs. Why, there is Madame Camus, she has come with Madame -de Courcelles; and look at Camus, he seems to have no eyes but for his -wife.” - -Sartines gazed in the direction of a group consisting of Camus, his -wife, Camille Fontrailles and Jean Dubarry. They were all laughing and -talking, and now, apropos of some remark, Camus, with a little bow, -took his wife’s hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. The others -laughed at the joke, whatever it was. - -“Look,” said de Sartines, “what a charming husband. And yet it seemed -to me, for I have been watching them all since they came in, that -this charming husband slipped a little note behind his back to the -Fontrailles, and that she took it quite in the orthodox way—that is to -say, without being seen.” - -“Except by you.” - -“Except by me, but then, you see, I am the Minister of Police, and I -am supposed to see what other people do not see, and know what other -people do not know.” De Sartines, as he finished speaking, turned again -towards the group and contemplated them with a brooding eye, his hands -behind his back, and his lips slightly thrust out. - -“But she can have no hopes, since Madame Camus is alive and, despite -her lameness, evidently in the best of health,” said M. de Duras. - -“My dear fellow,” said de Sartines, “that is not a girl to build on -hopes. If she cares for Camus, as I believe she does, he has only to -wink and she will follow him. She is of that type. The type of the -perverse prude. The creature who would refuse herself to an honest man, -and yet is quite ready to roll in the gutter if the gutter pleases her. -Here has this one refused a man whom she might have made something -of—that is to say, Rochefort, and who has welcomed the advances of a -speckled toad—that is to say, Camus. You say Camus is an open-hearted -man, at least I fancy you made some curious remark of that sort; you -are wrong, just as wrong as when you said Madame de Guemenée had -quarrelled with Madame de Choiseul; just as wrong as when you said de -Rochefort was in Germany. M. de Rochefort is in Paris—and there he is -in the flesh.” - -“Monsieur le Vicomte de Chartres. Monsieur le Comte de Rochefort,” came -the usher’s voice. - -An earthquake would not have shaken de Choiseul more than that -announcement, and just as he would have remained unmoved after the -first shock of the earthquake, so did he now after the first shock of -the announcement. - -Rochefort, accompanying Chartres, advanced a hair’s-breadth behind the -Vicomte, and with that half-smiling, easy grace which was one of his -attractions. He was beautifully dressed in a suit of Chartres’ which a -tailor had been half a day altering to suit his fastidious tastes. He -bowed to his hostess and host. - -Had de Choiseul changed colour or expression, Rochefort would have -been far better pleased; but the Minister received him with absolute -courtesy, as though they had parted in friendship but a few hours -ago, and as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a -man against whom he had issued a warrant, and for whom he was hunting -throughout France, to appear as his guest. The appalling _sang-froid_ -of de Choiseul, who would have suffered anything rather than that a -scene should be created in his house, disconcerted Rochefort. The idea -clutched his mind that he had taken another false step. He had come to -meet a man, he found himself face to face with etiquette. He had hoped, -by an explosion, to create the warmth that would lead to a mutual -understanding; he found no materials for an explosion—nothing but ice. - -Against the faultless reception of de Choiseul, his intrusion now -seemed bad taste. - -All this passed through his mind, leaving no trace, however, on his -manner or expression as he turned from his host and hostess and calmly -surveyed the people in his immediate neighbourhood. - -Not a person present that was not filled with astonishment, yet not -a person betrayed his or her feelings. Rochefort had, then, made his -position good again, and Choiseul had invited him to his reception. How -had Rochefort worked this miracle? Impossible to say, yet there was the -fact, and if Choiseul was satisfied it was nobody’s business to grumble. - -Camus was the most astonished of all, yet he said nothing, only turning -to the Vicomte Jean Dubarry with eyebrows lifted as though to say, -“Well, what do you think of that?” - -Sartines alone knew the truth of the whole business and Sartines wished -himself well away, for he knew that Rochefort would come and speak to -him, Sartines—the man who ought to take M. de Rochefort by the arm and -lead him out to arrest, an action that would have pleased his vexed -soul, and which he would promptly have taken were it not impossible. - -To arrest Rochefort now would mean simply to hand him over to the -agents of Choiseul, to be questioned and to reveal to them everything -he knew. He would sacrifice the Dubarrys most certainly rather than -suffer for them, that was patently apparent now, for Rochefort, passing -the Dubarry group, turned on Mademoiselle Fontrailles, on Chon, on Jean -Dubarry and on Camus, a glance in which hatred was half veiled and -contempt clearly manifested. - -And the group did not fail to respond. - -On the way towards Sartines, Rochefort was stopped by M. de Duras. - -“Why, M. de Rochefort,” said the old gentleman, “this is an unexpected -pleasure.” - -“Which, monsieur?” - -“Why, to meet you here to-night.” - -“Well, M. de Duras, unexpected pleasures are always the sweetest; but -why should the pleasure be unexpected?” - -“Why——?” stammered the old fellow—“Well, monsieur, it was rumoured -that you were in Germany.” - -“Ah! it was rumoured that I was in Germany—well, Rumour has told a lie -for the first time. Ah, Sartines, you see I have kept my promise; how -are you this evening—charmingly, I hope?” - -Rochefort had recovered his spirits. The sight of Camus, the -Fontrailles, Chon, and Jean Dubarry all in one group laughing and -talking together, had clinched the business with him and given the -last blow to his half-dead passion for Camille Fontrailles. But a dead -passion makes fine combustible material when it is bound together -with wounded pride. This dead passion of Rochefort’s burst into flame -like a lit tar-barrel, and his anger against the Dubarry group became -furiously alive and the next worse thing to hatred. - -“Hush, my dear fellow,” said de Sartines, drawing him aside. “I do not -know what has driven you to this mad act, but at least remember that -I am your friend. You have kept no promise to me. I could not help -receiving your letter; had I been in communication with you, I would -have been the first to warn you against what you have done.” - -“And you know perfectly well,” replied Rochefort, “that I have never -taken warnings—or at least only once, when I was foolish enough to -take a cell in that rat-haunted old barrack of Vincennes at your -advice, instead of facing Choiseul like a man.” - -“Facing Choiseul like a man! And what do you expect from that?” - -“I expect that he will listen to reason, hear my story, which I would -have told him had he not tried to arrest me as I was just starting to -Paris to keep an appointment, and release me.” - -“You do not know Choiseul.” - -“Excuse me, but I believe I do. He is a gentleman, he knows that I am a -gentleman and he will take my word.” - -“Choiseul will have you arrested the instant you leave this hôtel. He -would arrest you now only he does not wish to make a scene.” - -“I am going to explain to him.” - -“Where?” - -“Here.” - -“And how are you going to obtain an interview with him?” - -“You must do that for me.” - -“I?” - -“Yes, you are the proper person. Go to him and say, ‘Rochefort wishes -to speak to you on a matter of great importance.’ You can say to him -also if you like, ‘He asked me to say that he came here to-night -not as your guest, but as a gentleman who has been lied against and -misunderstood and who wishes to lay his case before the first gentleman -in France, after his Majesty.’” - -“Words, words,” said Sartines. “He will crumple them up and fling them -in your face.” - -“He will not. Choiseul is a gentleman and will listen to me.” - -“Ay, he will listen to you—you are like a child with your talk of -‘gentleman—gentleman.’ However, you are not quite lost. You had a -letter of Choiseul’s.” - -“I?” - -“Yes, you took it from the saddle-bag of a horse.” - -“Oh, that!” - -“Yes. Well, I have that letter in my pocket.” - -“How did you get it?” - -“You gave it to a girl—like a fool—to send back to Choiseul, and the -girl, who seems to have cared for you a lot, opened it.” - -“Ah, Javotte! Little meddler——” - -“Read it.” - -“Yes—yes!” - -“And found that it was a—what shall I say?—a revelation of how -Choiseul had plotted against the Dubarry and a libel on his Majesty. -It was written in a moment of anger, it was one of the false steps men -make who have not control of their temper. With this letter in your -hand you are safe from Choiseul. He, of course, knows that the thing -was taken from the saddle-bag of the horse, but I doubt if he suspects -you as having taken it, simply because in the ordinary course you would -have used it against him before this.” - -“How did you get this letter?” - -“The girl gave it to my agent, Lavenne, making him promise that it was -to be used only for your protection. Now we have some honour amongst -us at the Hôtel de Sartines, otherwise this—um—treasonable document -would have been laid by this before his Majesty for the good of the -State. Lavenne, to-night, knowing that you would be here, gave it to me -to give to you.” - -“Let me have it.” - -“Come into this corridor, then.” - -Sartines led the way between two curtains into a corridor giving -entrance to the _salon_ where to-night refreshments were being served. - -He handed the letter to Rochefort, who hastily put it in his pocket. - -“Thanks,” said Rochefort. “This will make the matter easier for me. Or -at least it will serve as an introduction to our business. And now, -like a good fellow, obtain for me my interview with Choiseul.” - -They went back against a tide of people setting in the direction of the -room where the buffet was laid out and where little tables were set -about for the guests. - -Rochefort waited in a corridor whilst Sartines advanced towards -Choiseul and buttonholed him. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -ROCHEFORT AND CHOISEUL - - -Rochefort watched the two men. One could make out absolutely nothing -from their expressions or movements. Then they turned slowly and walked -towards a door on the left of the _salon_. - -Choiseul, with his hand on the door-handle, nodded slightly to his -companion, passed through the door, shut it, and Sartines came hurrying -towards Rochefort. - -“Your interview has been granted. Remember that the letter in your -pocket stands between you and social and bodily destruction. _Mordieu_! -remember also your friends, Rochefort, for I will not hide it from you, -that, should you fall into Choiseul’s hands, things will go badly with -us.” - -“Do not worry me with directions, my dear fellow,” said Rochefort. “If -I am to do this thing, I must do it in my own way—come.” - -He led the way through the door and into a passage leading to a room -the door of which was ajar. - -Rochefort knocked at this door and entered the room, followed by -Sartines. - -It was a small but beautifully furnished writing-room. Choiseul was -standing before the fireplace, with his hands behind his back. He -seemed in meditation, and raising his head, bowed slightly to the Count -whilst Sartines closed the door and took a position on the right. - -Sartines, as he came to a halt, produced his snuff-box, tapped it, -opened it, and took a pinch. - -“Well, Monsieur de Rochefort,” said Choiseul, “you wish to speak to me?” - -“Yes, monsieur,” replied Rochefort, “I wish to make an explanation. -Some days ago, at his Majesty’s palace of Versailles, you in your -discretion, and acting under your powers, thought fit to issue a -warrant for the arrest of my person, and you entrusted this business to -two of your gentlemen, M. le Comte Camus and M. d’Estouteville.” - -Choiseul nodded slightly. - -“I resisted that arrest, monsieur, not because I was conscious of -having done any wrong and not because I dreaded any consequences that -might arise from false information given against me. I resisted arrest -simply because I was going to Paris on important business and did not -wish to be stopped.” - -“Oh!” said Choiseul, “you were going to Paris on important business and -did not wish to be stopped. Indeed! And you have come here to tell me -that you resisted an order of the State because you were going to Paris -and did not wish to be stopped!” - -Choiseul’s voice would have frozen an ordinary man, and few men in -Rochefort’s position could have stood under the gaze of his cold grey -eyes unmoved. - -“I came to tell you absolutely the truth, monsieur. Yes, I resisted the -order of the State for private reasons, but I will add this, my reasons -were not entirely personal. I had to meet a lady——” - -“Go on,” said Choiseul, “I do not wish to pry into your personal -affairs. Have you anything more to say?” - -“Yes, monsieur. To make my escape, I had to take a horse that was -standing in waiting. On it I reached Paris. In the saddle-bag I found a -letter addressed by you to a lady—I have forgotten the name—I do not -wish to pry into your private affairs.” - -Choiseul’s face had changed slightly in colour, but otherwise he -betrayed none of the emotion that filled him, except, Sartines noticed, -by a slight twitching of his left shoulder. - -“Ah!” said he, “you found a letter of mine!” - -“Yes, monsieur, I entrusted it to a person, who is my very faithful -servant, to take to the address upon it. Now, this person—knowing that -I was in trouble with M. de Choiseul—thought fit to open the letter, -an action most discreditable and only excusable inasmuch as it was -prompted by an humble mind, blinded by devotion to my interests. - -“The letter was put into my hands with a strong suggestion that the -contents might be useful to me.” - -“Now, M. le Duc, you will at once understand that, so far from making -use of this letter, I did not even read it. It is in my pocket now, -perfectly safe, and I have the honour of returning it to you.” - -To Sartines’ horror, Rochefort put his hand in his pocket, took out the -letter and gave it to Choiseul, who opened it, glanced at the contents -and placed it on the mantelpiece as though it were of no importance. - -“I have only to add, monsieur,” continued Rochefort, “that in Paris, -instead of taking the wise course of returning to Versailles to seek -re-arrest, I said to myself, ‘M. Choiseul is against me. I had better -make my escape or at least keep concealed until the storm blows over.’ -That was very foolish, but I was enraged about other matters and I did -not think clearly, and now, monsieur, what is the charge against me?” - -“You are charged, Monsieur de Rochefort, with the killing of a man in -the streets of Paris on the very night upon which you were here as my -guest last.” - -“The charge is perfectly correct, monsieur, but your informant did not -tell all.” - -“Walking home with Comte Camus I rescued a woman from two men who were -maltreating her. I pursued one of the men, he attacked me and I killed -him. I returned only to find the unfortunate woman whom I had rescued -being assaulted by Count Camus. I struck him in the face and rolled him -in the gutter, and he has never yet sought redress for that assault -which I made upon him.” - -“What is this you say?” asked Choiseul. - -“The truth, monsieur,” replied Rochefort proudly. - - * * * * * - -Now Lavenne that evening, on taking over the police arrangements for -Choiseul’s reception, had given special instructions to Vallone, one -of his subordinates who had nothing to do with the policing of the -reception, who, as a matter of fact, was a spy of the Hôtel de Sartines -engaged in the service of Choiseul. It was Vallone, in fact, who had -given Sartines the information that Choiseul had sent the note which -the Comtesse de Béarn had received in the basket of flowers. - -Lavenne had given the man instructions to watch Count Camus as a -cat watches a mouse, and Lavenne, just at this moment, was standing -unobserved watching the throng passing in and out of the _salon_ where -refreshments were served. He saw Vallone leave the _salon_. Vallone -glanced about, saw Lavenne and came rapidly towards him. - -“Well,” said Lavenne, “what is it?” - -“Monsieur, you told me to watch Count Camus, and more especially should -he use a dagger to cut fruit with.” - -“Yes—yes?” - -“He is seated at a small table with Madame Camus, Mademoiselle -Fontrailles, and M. le Vicomte Jean Dubarry.” - -“Yes—yes?” - -“He has just taken a peach from a dish of fruit handed to him by a -servant, and producing a knife like that which you spoke of, he cut the -peach in two.” - -“Quick—go on!” - -“He handed one half of the peach to Madame Camus.” - -“Yes—and the other half he ate himself?” - -“No, monsieur. The other half he handed on his plate to Mademoiselle -Fontrailles.” - -“Did she eat it?” - -“Yes, monsieur, she ate it, looking all the time at Monsieur Camus with -a smile, and between you and me, monsieur, she seems to favour the -Count more than a little.” - -Lavenne did not hear this last. Horrified at what he had heard, he -felt as though some unseen hand had suddenly intervened in this game -of life and death, dealing the cards in a reverse direction, and the -ace of spades, not to Camus, but to Camille Fontrailles. He turned from -Vallone and walked rapidly to the door of the supper-room. - -He entered. - -Dressed in a sober suit of black he had the appearance of a -confidential servant, and no one noticed him, or, if they did, put him -down as one of the stewards of the house superintending the service. -Numerous small tables were spread about, the place was crowded and a -band of violins in the gallery was playing, mixing its music with the -sound of voices, laughter, and the tinkle of glass and silver. - -Lavenne passed the table where the Dubarry group was seated. Camille -Fontrailles was chatting and laughing with the others; she had never -appeared more beautiful, she was seated opposite to Camus. Lavenne -swept the room with his eyes, as though he were searching for some plan -of action; then he hurriedly walked to the door, crossed the reception -_salon_ and passed through the door through which he had seen Sartines -and Rochefort following Choiseul. He reached the door where the -conference was going forward and knocked. - - * * * * * - -Choiseul paused for a moment without replying. - -“Let us see,” said he, “you accuse Monsieur Camus of having assaulted -this girl, and you would add to that the suggestion that his accusation -against you was prompted by anger at the blow you dealt him.” - -“I did not know that the accusation against me came from Comte Camus,” -replied Rochefort, “but I must say I suspected that he had a hand in -the business. Now that you tell me, I would say that most certainly the -accusation was prompted by spite.” - -“Well,” said Choiseul, “I have listened to what you have said, and what -you have said has impressed me, Monsieur de Rochefort. But I stand here -to do justice, and for that purpose I must hear what Comte Camus has to -say, for he distinctly told me that he had parted company with you, -that he had started on his way home, that he altered his direction in -order to call on a friend, and that by accident he had come upon the -evidence which he disclosed to me. I shall call Comte Camus and you can -confront him.” - -“Do so, monsieur,” replied Rochefort, “and now one word first. I fell -into politics by a false step, just as a man might fall into a well. -I confess that I acted against you, monsieur, not from animosity, but -simply because the party with which I momentarily allied myself was -in opposition to you. I would ask you to forget all that and forgive -an antagonist who is now well disposed towards you, should you decide -that Monsieur Camus’ story is a lie, and that I have spoken the truth. -Monsieur, I am not fit for politics; I want to enjoy my life since I -have only one to enjoy. I don’t want to go into the Bastille on account -of your anger, and I don’t want to be hanged for having killed a -ruffian who attempted my life. Therefore, Monsieur le Duc, should you -think that I have acted as a straight man and a gentleman through all -this, I would ask a clear forgiveness. Firstly, for ridding Paris of a -rogue with my sword; secondly, for having been such a fool as to ally -my life and my fortune to the fortune of those cursed Dubarrys.” - -The outward effect of this extraordinary speech on Choiseul was to make -him turn half way in order to hide a smile. Then, stretching out his -hand he rang a bell; with almost the same movement he casually took the -letter lying on the mantelpiece and put it in his pocket. - -Sartines knew from the expression on Choiseul’s face that Rochefort -was saved, unless Camus, by some trickery, were to turn the tables. -Everything rested now with what Camus would do and say. - -He was taking a pinch of snuff when Lavenne’s knock came to the door. - -Lavenne entered. His face was absolutely white. - -“Monsieur,” said he to Sartines, disregarding the other two, “send at -once for Monsieur Camus. Mademoiselle Fontrailles has been poisoned—he -may know some antidote, but it will have to be forced from him.” - -“Good God!” said Sartines, instantly guessing the truth. “He has given -her the poison instead of his wife.” - -“Yes—yes, monsieur—but send quick.” - -“I will fetch him myself,” cried Sartines, rushing from the room. - -Choiseul, amazed, found his speech. - -“What is this you say?” he asked. “Poisoned, in my house? Explain -yourself!” - -“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “Comte Camus has poisoned a lady at the -supper-table—yes, in your house; he intended to poison his wife. I -have been watching him for some time. He poisoned Atalanta, the King’s -hound, with poison which he had prepared for his wife, and which the -dog ate by accident. Woe is me! I should have seized him to-day, but -the evidence was not complete. I had arranged things otherwise, but God -in His wisdom has brought my plans to nothing.” - -“_Bon Dieu_!” said Rochefort, all thoughts about himself swept away. -There was something shocking in Lavenne’s face and voice and words. -Choiseul, mystified, understanding only half of what had happened, yet -comprehending the depth of the tragedy of which his house had been -chosen for the stage, stood waiting, half dreading the re-appearance -of Sartines, too proud to cross-question a subordinate and at heart -furious at this scandal which had thrust itself upon his hearth. - -He had not to wait long. - -Steps sounded outside, the door opened and Camus entered, closely -followed by Sartines. Camus, not comprehending the urgent summons, was, -still, pale about the lips, and his manner had lost its assurance. - -Sartines shut the door. - -“That is the man,” said Lavenne, stepping forward and suddenly taking -command of the situation. - -Lavenne, in a flash, had altered. He seemed to have increased in size; -something ferocious and bullying lying dormant in his nature broke -loose; advancing swiftly on Camus he seized him by the collar as he -would have seized the commonest criminal and absolutely shouting in his -face, held him tight clutched the while: - -“I arrest you, your game is lost. The antidote for the poison you have -just given an unfortunate woman! Confess, save her, and you may yet -save your neck. You refuse? You would struggle? Ah, there——” - -He flung himself on Camus as if he would tear the secret from him, but -he was not searching for the secret, but for the dagger, which he found -and plucked from him, flinging it to Sartines. - -Camus, who had not spoken a word, struggled furiously, white, gasping, -terrific, proclaiming his infamy by his silence, knowing that all was -over, and that this terrible man whom he had never seen before, this -man who had lain hidden in his path and who had seized him like Fate, -was his executioner. - -The struggle lasted only half a minute, then Camus was on the floor and -Lavenne, with the whipcord which he always carried, was fastening the -wrists of his prisoner. There was no appeal, no defence, or questions -or cross-questions. Just a prisoner bound on the floor, and Lavenne, -now calm, rising to address his master. - -“Shall I remove him, monsieur?” - -“But the antidote,” said Sartines. - -“There is no antidote, monsieur,” said Lavenne, “else he would have -confessed to save his life.” He gave a down glance at Camus. Camus, -white and groaning, lay like a man stricken by a mortal blow, and then -Choiseul, glaring at him, spoke. - -Choiseul, who had not moved nor spoken, suddenly found speech. Filled -with fury at the whole business, not caring who was poisoned as long -as the affair did not occur in his house, stricken in his dignity and -hating the idea of a scandal, he turned to Sartines. - -“Take that carrion away,” he burst out. “Away with him by that door -which opens on the kitchen premises. Go first, Sartines, and order -all the servants to remain away from the yard where you will have a -carriage brought. Then you can remove him to La Bastille. Monsieur de -Rochefort, kindly help in the business—and Monsieur de Rochefort, all -is cleared between us. Go in peace and avoid politics. Now do as I -direct. No scandal, no noise—not a word about all this business which -is deeply discreditable to our order. We poison in secret, it seems; -well, in secret we shall punish.” - -“Monsieur,” said Sartines, delighted that the Rochefort business was -over and done with, “I shall do exactly as you direct. It is best. -Lavenne, open that door and give me your assistance with this.” - -Lavenne opened the door and they carried Camus out. Not one word had -he spoken from first to last. Rochefort followed. When he reached the -door, he turned and bowed to Choiseul, Choiseul returned the bow. -Rochefort went out and shut the door behind him and the incident was -closed. - - * * * * * - -Then Choiseul, taking the letter from his pocket re-read it, lit a -taper and burned it in the grate. He stamped on the ashes and, leaving -the room, returned to the _salon_ on which the passage opened. - -Some of the guests were taking their departure, amongst them the -Dubarry party. - -“We were looking for Monsieur Camus,” said Jean Dubarry, “but he seems -to have vanished.” - -“Ah, Comte Camus,” replied Choiseul, “I saw him early this evening, but -I have not seen him since.” - -“Sartines came and fetched him off,” said Jean. - -“Then perhaps he has gone off with Sartines,” said Choiseul, “and now -you are carrying off Mademoiselle Fontrailles so early in the evening. -Ah, Mademoiselle Fontrailles, you are carrying away with you all the -charm you have brought to my poor _salons_, and leaving behind you the -envy of all the roses of Paris who have been eclipsed by the Flower of -Martinique.” - -He bowed profoundly to the laughing girl and to Chon Dubarry. - -Then he went to the card-room. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -ENVOI - - -A few days later the Comte de Rochefort was breakfasting with his -friend, de Chartres, when, the conversation taking a turn, Rochefort, -in reply to some remark of his companion, laughed. - -“That reminds me,” said he, “I am going to leave Paris.” - -“You are going to leave Paris? And for how long?” - -“Oh, an indefinite time.” - -“And who gave you that bright idea?” - -“M. de Duras.” - -“M. de Duras advised you to leave Paris?” - -“Oh, no, he only gave me the idea that it would be a good thing not to -become like M. de Duras. I saw myself in a flash as I would be twenty -years hence, old M. de Rochefort with a painted face, living socially -on the tolerance of his friends and mentally on the latest rumour and -the cast-off wit of others. Besides, I was always fond of a country -life; besides—I have had my fling in Paris, I have spent I don’t -know how many thousand francs in four years, and if I go on I will be -impoverished, and I can stand many things, Chartres, but I could never -stand being your poor man. - -“I do not mind living on a crust of bread in the least, but I object -very strongly to living with the knowledge that I cannot have venison -if I want it. I have come from a queer stock, we have always gone the -pace, but we have all of us had a grain of commonsense somewhere in our -natures to check us in time. - -“People say I am mad simply because they only see me spending my money -in Paris; they do not know in the least that I have a reputation for -commonsense on my estates as solid as an oak-tree. My people in the -country know me and they respect me, because I know them and will not -let myself be cheated. People say I am mad—silly fools—have they -never considered the fact that I have always steered clear of politics?” - -“Oh, oh!” said Chartres; “good heavens, what are you saying?” - -“That was an accident, an uncharted rock that I struck. I have always -steered clear of politics, otherwise I might be like Camus, of whose -fate I have just told you—and mind, never, never breathe a word of -that even to your pillow—or poor Camille Fontrailles. Well, to return -to our subject. I am leaving Paris for another reason, which I will -tell to you who are my best friend. I am in love, and the girl whom I -am going to make my wife could not live in Paris.” - -“And why not?” - -“Because she is a girl of the people; because she has a heart of gold -and a soul as pure as the soul of a child, and a power of love simple -and indestructible as the love of a dog; because she is a woman who can -be faithful in friendliness as a man, because she is a child who will -be a child till she dies. All that would be extremely absurd in Paris. -But down there in the country, Madame la Comtesse de Rochefort will -grow and live in the clear air that nourishes the flowers; she will be -respected by people who know the value of worth, and when Monsieur de -Rochefort is an old man, he will perhaps see in his grandchildren the -strength of a new race and not the vices of our rotten aristocracy.” - -“Rochefort,” said Chartres, “I do not know whether this is madness or -commonsense, I only know that you are talking in a way that surprises -me as much as though I were to hear my poodle Pistache talking -philosophy.” - -“Precisely, yet Pistache has more philosophy in his composition than -half the philosophers. You despise him because he is a poodle and -plays antics, just as you despise me because I am a man who has played -the fool. Yet Madame de Chartres does not look on Pistache as a bag -of tricks covered with fur, for she believes—so she told me—that -Pistache has a soul, and the woman whom I am going to marry does not -look on me as a fool, simply because she loves me. - -“Believe me, Chartres, the only people who really understand dogs and -men—are women.” - - -THE END - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Presentation, by Henry De Vere Stacpoole - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRESENTATION *** - -***** This file should be named 54808-0.txt or 54808-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/8/0/54808/ - -Produced by Roger Frank, Brian Wilcox and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/54808-0.zip b/old/54808-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 59a1665..0000000 --- a/old/54808-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54808-h.zip b/old/54808-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 99f6b8f..0000000 --- a/old/54808-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54808-h/54808-h.htm b/old/54808-h/54808-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 513f9cb..0000000 --- a/old/54808-h/54808-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10618 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Presentation, by Henry De Vere Stacpoole. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1 {font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.6em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; - page-break-before: always; -} - - h2 {font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.1em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - - h2.no-break - { - page-break-before: avoid; - padding-top: 0;} - - h3 {font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.0em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - - -p {text-indent: 1em; - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -p.indent { - margin-top: 0em; - text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 0em; - text-indent: -1em; margin-left: 1em; -} - -p.right {text-align: right;} - -p.drop-cap { - text-indent: 0em; -} -p.drop-cap:first-letter -{ - float: left; - margin: 0.0em 0.1em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; - line-height:0.85em; -} - -hr.tb {width: 20%; - margin-left: 40%; - margin-right: 40%; - clear: both;} - -hr.chap {width: 40%; - margin-left: 30%; - margin-right: 30%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - clear: both;} - -.blockquote { - font-size: 90%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 5%} - -.chapter {page-break-before: always;} - -.caption {font-weight: normal; text-align: center;} - -.small {font-size: 90%;} -.smallest {font-size: 70%;} -.largest {font-size: 130%;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -div.figcenter { - clear: both; - margin: 2em auto; /* or margin: auto;*/ - text-align: center; - max-width: 100%; /* div no wider than screen, even when screen is narrow */ -} - -img { max-width: 100%; /* no image to be wider than screen or containing div */ height: auto; /* keep height in proportion to width */ } - -table.my90 {border-collapse: collapse; table-layout: auto; -margin-left: 1%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; -font-size: 90%;} - - .tdl {text-align: left;} - .tdc {text-align: center;} - .tdr {text-align: right;} - - -.center table { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} - -.padb1 {padding-bottom: 1em;} - -.padb2 {padding-bottom: 2em;} - -.padt1 {padding-top: 1em;} - -.padt2 {padding-top: 2em;} - -.padr2 {padding-right: 2em;} - -.vertt {vertical-align: top;} - -.vertb {vertical-align: bottom;} - -.normal {font-weight: normal;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} /* page numbers */ - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.covernote {visibility: hidden; display: none;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.covernote {visibility: hidden; display: none;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - -/* Footnotes */ - -.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} - -.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: - none; -} - -@media handheld { - .covernote {visibility: visible; display: block;} -} - -@media handheld -{ - p.drop-cap:first-letter - { - float: none; - margin: 0; - font-size: 100%; - } -} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Presentation, by Henry De Vere Stacpoole - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Presentation - -Author: Henry De Vere Stacpoole - -Release Date: May 29, 2017 [EBook #54808] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRESENTATION *** - - - - -Produced by Roger Frank, Brian Wilcox and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<div class="transnote covernote"> - <p>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> -</div> - -<h1>THE PRESENTATION</h1> - -<h2 class="no-break">H. DE VERE STACPOOLE</h2> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/illus-fpc.jpg" width="443" height="600" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">NEVER HAD MADAME DUBARRY LOOKED MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN NOW</p> - -<p class="right"><em>See page 96</em></p></div> - -<div class="figcenter chapter"> -<img src="images/illus-tpg.jpg" width="310" height="500" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><em>The<br /> -Presentation<br /> -by<br /> -H. de Vere Stacpoole</em><br /> -<br /> -FRONTISPIECE IN COLOUR<br /> -BY<br /> -EARL STETSON CRAWFORD<br /> -<br /> -JOHN LANE COMPANY : : NEW YORK<br /> -MCMXIV</p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="center chapter padt2 padb2"> -<span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1914<br /> -<span class="smcap">By</span> J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1914<br /> -<span class="smcap">By</span> JOHN LANE COMPANY -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<div class="center"> -<table class="my90" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" summary="toc"> -<tr> -<th class="tdc normal padt1 padb1" colspan="3">BOOK I</th> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl smallest" colspan="2">CHAPTER</td> -<td class="tdr smallest">PAGE</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">I.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Duc de Choiseul’s Ball</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_I">9</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">II.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The House of the Dubarrys</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_II">21</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">III.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">A Council of War</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_III">37</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Methods of Monsieur De Sartines</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IV">54</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">V.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Ferminard</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_V">60</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Comtesse De Béarn</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VI">75</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Artist</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VII">82</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Presentation</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VIII">84</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">IX.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Reward</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IX">97</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">X.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Order of Arrest</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_X">100</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">XI.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Flight</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_XI">106</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">XII.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">A Duel of Wits</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_I_CHAPTER_XII">110</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<th class="tdc normal padt1 padb1" colspan="3">BOOK II</th> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">I.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">A Lodging for the Night</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_I">115</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">II.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Gratitude of the Dubarrys</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_II">129</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">III.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Pair of Spectacles</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_III">137</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Arrest of Rochefort</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_IV">143</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">V.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Captain Roux</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_II_CHAPTER_V">154</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<th class="tdc normal padt1 padb1" colspan="3">BOOK III</th> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">I.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Poisoning of Atalanta</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_III_CHAPTER_I">171</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">II.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Monsieur Brommard</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_III_CHAPTER_II">178</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">III.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Choiseul’s Letter</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_III_CHAPTER_III">191</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Declaration of Camus</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_III_CHAPTER_IV">195</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">V.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The House of Count Camus</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_III_CHAPTER_V">201</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Laboratory</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_III_CHAPTER_VI">210</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Fawn and the Serpent</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_III_CHAPTER_VII">218</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Catacombs of Paris</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_III_CHAPTER_VIII">222</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<th class="tdc normal padt1 padb1" colspan="3">BOOK IV</th> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">I.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">News from Vincennes</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_I">227</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">II.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Two Prisoners</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_II">233</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">III.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Two Prisoners</span> (<em>continued</em>)</p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_III">242</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Two Prisoners</span> (<em>continued</em>)</p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_IV">249</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">V.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">M. De Rochefort Reviews Himself</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_V">254</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Escape</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_VI">259</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Rochefort’s Plan</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_VII">265</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Honour of Lavenne</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_VIII">275</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">IX.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Gathering Storm</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_IX">287</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">X.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Duc De Choiseul’s Reception</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_X">291</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">XI.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Rochefort and Choiseul</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_XI">301</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr vertt padr2">XII.</td> -<td class="tdl vertt"><p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Envoi</span></p></td> -<td class="tdr vertb"><a href="#BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_XII">312</a></td> -</tr></table></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="chapter">BOOK I</h2> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_I"><span class="largest">THE PRESENTATION</span><br /> -<br /> -CHAPTER I<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE DUC DE CHOISEUL’S BALL</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was the night of the Duc de Choiseul’s ball, that is to say, the -night before the expected presentation of the Comtesse Dubarry at -Court, and Versailles was in a ferment, the seething of which reached -to the meanest streets of Paris.</p> - -<p>France had long been accustomed to the rule, not of kings, but of -favourites and ministers, and at the present moment in the year of our -Lord, 1770, she was under the rule of the most kind-hearted of women -since the harmless La Vallière and the most upright minister since -Colbert.</p> - -<p>The mistress was Dubarry and the minister de Choiseul.</p> - -<p>It was a strange government. To-day Dubarry, who hated Choiseul much -more than she hated the devil, would be in the ascendant over Louis the -Voluptuous. To-morrow Choiseul would have the long ear of the King, who -was, in fact, only the table on which these two gamblers played with -loaded dice for the realm of France.</p> - -<p>Behind the two gamblers stood their backers. Behind Choiseul, when he -was winning, nearly the whole Court of Versailles. Behind Dubarry, -when she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> losing, only her family, the Vicomte Jean, and a few -inconsiderable people who had learned to love her for her own sake.</p> - -<p>This adherence of the courtiers to Choiseul was caused less by the -prescience of self-interest than by hatred of the Comtesse, and this -hatred, always smouldering and ready to burst into flame, was one of -the strangest features in the Court mind of France.</p> - -<p>Why did they hate her, these people? Or, rather, why did they hate her -with such intensity—they who had raised few enough murmurs against the -rule of the frigid and callous Pompadour?</p> - -<p>They hated her, perhaps, because she was an epitome of the virtues -and the vices of the people whom they had trampled under foot for -centuries. She had that goodness of heart and simplicity of thought -rarer even than rectitude in Court circles, and her very vices had a -robustness reminiscent of the soil.</p> - -<p>Dubarry was, in fact, a charming woman who might have been a good woman -but for Fate, the Maison Labille, and Louis of France.</p> - -<p>The question of her presentation at Court, an act which would place -her on the same social footing as her enemies, had been the main topic -of conversation for a month past. The women had closed their ranks and -united against the common enemy. Not one of them would act as sponsor. -The King, who cared little enough about the business, had, still, -interested himself in the matter. The Comtesse, her sister Chon, and -the Vicomte Jean Dubarry had ransacked the lists of the most venial of -the nobility. Bribes, threats, promises, all had been used in vain; -not a woman would stir or raise a finger to further the ambition of -the “shop girl,” so that the unfortunate Comtesse was on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> the point of -yielding to despair when a brilliant idea occurred to the Vicomte Jean.</p> - -<p>Away down in the provinces, mouldering in a castle on the banks of the -Meuse, lived a lady named the Comtesse de Béarn. A lady of the old -<em>régime</em>, a litigant with a suit pending before the courts in Paris, -poor as Job, proud as Lucifer, and seemingly created by Providence for -the purpose of the presentation.</p> - -<p>This lady had been brought to Paris by a trick, installed in the town -house of Madame Dubarry, and wheedled into consenting to act as sponsor -by pure and rank bribery. One can fancy the consternation of the -Choiseul party when this news leaked out.</p> - -<p>The presentation was assured; nothing, one might fancy, could possibly -happen to prevent it, and yet to-night, standing with the Duchess -to receive their guests, the face of Choiseul showed nothing of his -threatened defeat.</p> - -<p>The Rue de Faubourg St. Honoré was alight with the torches of the -running footmen and filled with a crowd watching the carriages turning -into the courtyard of the Hôtel de Choiseul from the direction of the -Rue St. Honoré, the Rue de la Bonne Morue, the Rue d’Anjou, and the Rue -de la Madeleine.</p> - -<p>It was a great assemblage, for the Court for the moment was in Paris, -the King having changed his residence for three days, returning to -Versailles on the morrow, and the people, with that passion for -display which helped them at times to forget their misery and hunger, -watched the passing liveries of the Duc de Richelieu, M. de Duras, M. -de Sartines, the Duc de Grammont, and the host of other notabilities, -content if by the torchlight they caught a glimpse of some fair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> face, -the glimmer of a jewel, or the ribbon of an order.</p> - -<p>The Maréchal de Richelieu’s carriage had drawn away from the steps, -having set down its illustrious occupant, when another carriage drew -up, from which stepped two young men. The first to alight was short, -dark, with a face slightly pitted with smallpox, and so repellent, -that at first sight the mind recoiled from him. Yet such was the -extraordinary vigour and personality behind that repulsive face that -men, and more especially women, forgot the ugliness in the hypnotism -of the power. This was the celebrated Comte Camus, a descendant of -Nicholas Camus, who had arrived in France penniless in the reign of -Louis XIII., married his daughter to Emery, superintendent of finance, -and died leaving to his heirs fifteen million francs.</p> - -<p>The gentleman with him, tall, fair complexioned, and with a laughing, -devil-may-care face, marred somewhat by a sword-cut on the right side -reaching from cheek-bone to chin, was the Comte de Rochefort.</p> - -<p>Rochefort was only twenty-five, an extraordinary person, absolutely -fearless, always fighting, one of those characters that, like opals, -seem compounded of cloud and fire. Generous, desperate in his love -and hate, a rake-hell and a roué, open-handed when his fist was not -clenched, and always laughing, he was fittingly summed up in the words -of his cousin, the Abbé du Maurier, “It grieves me to think that such a -man should be damned.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort, followed by Camus, passed up the steps and through the glass -swing-doors to the hall. It was like entering a palace in fairy-land. -Flowers everywhere, clinging to the marble pillars, gloated on by the -soft yet brilliant lights of a thousand lamps, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> banking with colour -the balustrades of the great staircase up which was passing a crowd -of guests, or, one might better say, a profusion of diamonds, orders, -blue ribbons, billowing satin, and the snow of lace and pearls. Over -the light laughter and soft voices of women the music of Philidor -drifted, faintly heard, from the band of violins in the ball-room, -and, clear-cut and hard through the murmur and sigh of violins, voices -and volumes of drapery, could be heard the business-like voice of the -major-domo announcing the guests.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le Maréchal Duc de Richelieu!”</p> - -<p>“Madame la Princesse de Guemenée!”</p> - -<p>“Madame de Courcelles!” etc.</p> - -<p>Camus and Rochefort, having made their bow to Madame de Choiseul and -saluted the minister, lost each other completely. Each had a host of -acquaintances, and Rochefort had not made two steps in the direction of -the ball-room when a hand was laid on his arm and, turning, he found -himself face to face with Monsieur de Sartines, the Lieutenant-General -of Police.</p> - -<p>“Is this an arrest, monsieur?” said Rochefort, laughing.</p> - -<p>“Only of your attention,” replied de Sartines, laughing in his turn. -“My dear Rochefort, how well you are looking. And what has brought you -here to-night?”</p> - -<p>“Just what brought you, my dear Sartines.”</p> - -<p>“And that?”</p> - -<p>“The invitation of Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“But I thought you were of the other party?”</p> - -<p>“Which other party?”</p> - -<p>“The Dubarry faction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“I—I belong to no faction—only my own, and that includes all the -pretty women and pleasant fellows in Paris. <em>Mordieu</em>, Sartines, since -when have you imagined me a man of factions and politics? I keep clear -of all that simply because I wish to live. Look at Richelieu, he has -aged more in the last six months with hungering after Choiseul’s -portfolio than he aged in the whole eighty years of his life. Look at -Choiseul grinning at Richelieu, whom he expects to devour him; he has -no more wrinkles simply because he has no more room for them. Look -at yourself. You are as yellow as a louis d’or, and your liver can’t -grow any bigger on account of the size of your spleen—politics, all -politics.”</p> - -<p>“I!” said Sartines. “I have nothing to do with politicians—my business -is with criminals.”</p> - -<p>“They are the same thing, my dear man,” replied Rochefort. “The -criminals stab each other in the front and the politicians in the back; -that is all the difference. Ah, here we are in the ball-room. More -flowers! Why, Choiseul must have stripped France of roses for this ball -of his.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but there is a Rose that he has failed to pluck with all these -roses.”</p> - -<p>“Dubarry?”</p> - -<p>“Precisely.”</p> - -<p>Though Rochefort pretended to know nothing of politics, his acute mind -told him at once a secret hidden from others. Sartines belonged to the -Dubarry faction. He read it at once in the remark and the tone in which -it was made.</p> - -<p>Sartines moved through the circles of the Court, mysterious, secretive, -professing no politics, yet with his thumb in every pie, and sometimes -his whole hand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span></p> - -<p>He was Fouché with the aristocratic particle attached—a policeman and -a noble rolled into one. With the genius of Mascarille for intrigue, -of Tartuffe for hypocrisy, acting now with the feigned stupidity of -a Sganarelle, and always ready to pounce with the pitilessness of a -tiger, this extraordinary man exercised a power in the Court of Louis -XV., equalled only by the power of the grey cardinal in the time of -Richelieu—with this difference—he was feared less, on account of his -assumed bonhomie, an attribute that made him even more dangerous than -<em>son éminence gris</em>.</p> - -<p>He stood now with his hands behind his back, leaning slightly forward, -his lips pursed, and his eyes upon the minuet that had just formed like -a coloured flower crystallized from the surrounding atmosphere by the -strains of Lully.</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said the Minister of Police, catching sight of a familiar figure, -“so the Comte Camus is among the dancers. He came with you to-night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; we arrived in the same carriage.”</p> - -<p>“Then take care,” said Sartines, “that you do not end your life in the -same carriage.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon!”</p> - -<p>“The carriage that takes men to the Place de la Grève.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur!” cried Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“It is my joke; yet, all the same, a joke may have a warning in it. -Rochefort, beware of that man.”</p> - -<p>“Of Comte Camus?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“And why?”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu</em>, why! He is a poisoner—that’s all.”</p> - -<p>“A poisoner!”</p> - -<p>“Precisely. He poisoned his uncle with a plate of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> soup, he poisoned -his wife with a pot of rouge, and he would poison me with all his heart -if he could get into my kitchen. You ask me how I know all this? I know -it. Yet I cannot touch him because my evidence is not as complete as my -knowledge. But the rope is ready for him, and he will fall as surely -as my name is Sartines, for he is an expert in the art, and my eye is -always upon him.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort, who had recovered from his shock, laughed. He did not -entirely believe Sartines; besides, his attention was distracted from -the thought of Camus by a face.</p> - -<p>“Who is that lady seated in the alcove beside Madame de Courcelles?” -asked he.</p> - -<p>De Sartines turned.</p> - -<p>“That?” said he. “Why, it is La Fleur de Martinique. How is it possible -that you do not know her?”</p> - -<p>“I have been away from Paris for two months. She must have bloomed in -my absence, this flower of Martinique. Her name, my dear Sartines? I am -burning to know her name.”</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle Fontrailles. But beware of her, Rochefort; she is even -more dangerous than Camus.”</p> - -<p>“Why, does she poison people?”</p> - -<p>“No, she only makes eyes at them. It’s the same thing. Now, what can -she be doing here to-night—for she is a friend of the Dubarrys?”</p> - -<p>“What can she be doing here? Why, where are your eyes? She is making -Choiseul’s ball-room more beautiful, of course. <em>Mon Dieu</em>, what -a face; it makes every other face look like a platter. Sartines, -introduce me.”</p> - -<p>“That I will not.”</p> - -<p>“Then I will introduce myself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“That is as may be.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort turned on his heel and walked straight towards Mademoiselle -Fontrailles, whilst Sartines looked on in horror. He knew that -Rochefort would stick at nothing, but he did not dream that he would -dare the act on which he was now evidently bent.</p> - -<p>Rochefort walked straight up to Madame de Courcelles, with whom he had -a slight acquaintance, and bowed.</p> - -<p>“How delightful to find you here, and you, too, Mademoiselle -Fontrailles. I was just complaining of the profusion of the flowers—I -thought Choiseul must have gathered together a hundred million roses in -this room—till, turning to your alcove, I found there were only two.”</p> - -<p>He bowed, and Madame de Courcelles laughed as she rose to greet -Sartines, with whom she wished a few minutes’ conversation.</p> - -<p>“Since you two know each other, I will leave you to talk nonsense -together,” said she. “Ah, Sartines, I thought you were eluding me. You -looked twice in my direction, and not one sign of recognition.”</p> - -<p>“I am growing short-sighted, madame,” replied de Sartines, as she -took his arm, “and had it not been for the keen sight of Monsieur de -Rochefort, I might altogether have missed you.”</p> - -<p>They passed away in the crowd that now thronged the room, leaving -Rochefort and Mademoiselle Fontrailles together.</p> - -<p>She was very beautiful. Graceful as the <em>fleur d’amour</em> of her native -land, dark, yet without a trace of the creole, and with eyes that had -been compared to black pansies. Those same eyes when seen by daylight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> -discovered themselves not as pansies, but as two wells of the deepest -blue.</p> - -<p>The Flower of Martinique looked at Rochefort, and Rochefort looked at -the Flower of Martinique.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said the Flower, “I have met many surprising things in -Paris; but nothing has surprised me more than your impertinence.”</p> - -<p>“Not my impertinence, dear Mademoiselle Fontrailles,” replied -Rochefort, “but my philosophy. Have you not noticed that when two -people get to know each other they generally bore each other? Now -in Paris society two people cannot possibly know each other without -being introduced; and, since we have never been introduced, it follows -logically that we can never bore each other.”</p> - -<p>“I am not so sure of that,” replied the lady, looking at her companion -critically. “Many people to whom I have never been introduced bore me -by the expression of their faces and the tone of their voices. I was -noticing that fact even whilst I was watching you talking to Monsieur -de Sartines a moment ago.”</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said Rochefort, “you noticed that about him! It is true he is a -bit heavy.”</p> - -<p>She laughed. In her Paris experience she had met no one like Rochefort. -Impudence she had met, and daring, laughter, raillery, good looks and -ugliness. Yet she had never met them all combined, as in the case of -Rochefort. For it seemed to her that he was now almost ugly, now almost -good-looking, and she set herself for a moment to try and read this man -whose face had so many expressions, and whose mind had, seemingly, so -many facets.</p> - -<p>She was a keen reader of character, yet Rochefort baffled her. The -salient points were easy enough to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> discern. Courage, daring and sharp -intelligence were there; but the retreating angles, what did they -contain? She could not tell, but she determined, whatever his character -might be, it would be improved by a check.</p> - -<p>“I have not weighed Monsieur de Sartines,” she said, rising to rejoin -Madame de Courcelles, who was approaching on the arm of the minister, -“but I have weighed Monsieur Rochefort, and I find him——” she -hesitated with a charming smile upon her lips.</p> - -<p>“And you have found him——?”</p> - -<p>“Wanting.”</p> - -<p>Next moment she was passing away with Madame de Courcelles, and -Rochefort found himself face to face with the Minister of Police.</p> - -<p>At the word “wanting,” she had swept him from head to foot with -her eyes, and the charming smile had turned into an expression of -contemptuous indifference worse than a blow in the face. It was the -secret of her loveliness that it could burn one up, or freeze one, or -entrance one at will. Rochefort had been playing with a terrible thing, -and for the first time in his life he felt like a fool. He had often -been a fool, but he had never felt like a fool before.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said de Sartines, with a cynical smile, “and what have we been -talking about to Mademoiselle Fontrailles?”</p> - -<p>“Why,” said the young man, recovering himself, “the last subject we -were discussing was your weight, Sartines.”</p> - -<p>“My weight?”</p> - -<p>“She said that you impressed her as being rather heavy.”</p> - -<p>He turned away and walked off, mixing with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span> crowd, trying to -stifle his mortification, his fingers clutching his lace ruffles and -his eyes glancing hither and thither for someone to pick a quarrel -with or say a bitter thing to. He found no one of this sort, but he -found Mademoiselle Fontrailles. Twice in the crowd he passed her, and -each time her eyes swept over him without betraying the least spark of -recognition.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE HOUSE OF THE DUBARRYS</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">CAMUS, meanwhile, having finished dancing, went into the card-room. He -seemed to be in search of someone, and passed from table to table like -an uneasy spirit, till, reaching the farthest table, he found the man -he wanted.</p> - -<p>It was the Comte de Coigny.</p> - -<p>Coigny was standing watching a game of picquet; when he raised his eyes -and saw Camus, he gave a sign of recognition, left the game, and coming -towards him, took his arm.</p> - -<p>“Let us go into the ball-room,” said Coigny; “we can talk there without -being overheard in the crush. Did you get my note asking you to be sure -to come to-night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I got your note. Why were you so anxious for me to come?”</p> - -<p>“For a very good reason. There are great things in the air.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! Something about the Dubarry, I wager.”</p> - -<p>“You are right. The case is desperate, and you know the only cure for a -desperate case is a desperate remedy.”</p> - -<p>“Go on.”</p> - -<p>“She is due at Versailles at nine o’clock to-morrow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> evening. Well, we -are going to steal her carriage, her dress and her hairdresser.”</p> - -<p>“Dubarry’s?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Dubarry’s.”</p> - -<p>“And you want me——”</p> - -<p>“To help.”</p> - -<p>“And when is this theft to be made?”</p> - -<p>“To-morrow, at six o’clock in the evening. We cannot entrust this -business to servants. I have a friend who will look after the milliner, -I myself will attend to the hairdresser, and you, my dear Camus, must -look after the carriage.”</p> - -<p>“Let us clearly understand each other,” said Camus. “You propose to -suppress a hairdresser, a carriage and a gown. Is this to be done by -brute force, or how?”</p> - -<p>“By bribery.”</p> - -<p>“Have you approached the milliner, the hairdresser, and the coachman on -the subject?”</p> - -<p>“Heavens no! The thing is to be done at the last moment; give them time -to think and they would talk.”</p> - -<p>“And who is to pay the bribes?”</p> - -<p>“Choiseul; who else? It will cost three hundred thousand francs; but -were it to cost a million, the million is there.”</p> - -<p>“And suppose they resist?”</p> - -<p>“That has also been taken into consideration. If they resist, then -force must be used. You must have five companions ready to your call, -should you need them.”</p> - -<p>“I can easily find five men,” said Camus. “I have only to whisper the -name of Dubarry, and they would spring from the pavement.”</p> - -<p>“They must all be gentlemen,” said Coigny, “for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> in an affair of this -sort, nothing must be trusted to servants.”</p> - -<p>“Just so. Who are the coach people?”</p> - -<p>“Landry, in the Rue de la Harpe. The carriage is finished, and the -varnish is drying on it. But Landry has nothing to do with it. Your -business concerns the coachman, Mathieu. You must get hold of this man, -and, having put him out of the way, assume the Dubarry livery, call for -the coach at Landry’s, and drive it to the devil—or anywhere you like -but the Rue de Valois.”</p> - -<p>“And the footmen?”</p> - -<p>“Your genius must dispose of those. Send them into a cabaret for a -drink, and drive off while they are drinking. That is all detail.”</p> - -<p>“But Landry will recognize that I am not Mathieu.”</p> - -<p>“You can easily meet that. You can say he is ill, or better, drunk. He -has a reputation for getting drunk, and there is nothing like a bad -reputation to help a good plan, sometimes.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Ma foi!</em>” said Camus, “if that is the case, you ought to use -Dubarry’s reputation. Well, I agree. But Choiseul ought to make me a -duke at least, for it would be worth a dukedom to see Dubarry’s face -when she finds out the trick, and I will be out of all that.”</p> - -<p>“Rest assured,” said Coigny, “that Choiseul will not forget the men who -have helped him; but your reward will come less from him than another -quarter.”</p> - -<p>“And where is that?”</p> - -<p>“Why, all the women of the Court. And a man with the women on his -side can do anything. Ah, there is Madame de Courcelles with the -charming Fontrailles. Now, what can Mademoiselle Fontrailles be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> doing -here to-night, for, if I am not greatly mistaken, she is a friend of -Dubarry’s?”</p> - -<p>Camus caught sight of Mademoiselle Fontrailles.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mon Dieu!</em>” said he, “what a lovely face! Where has she come from?”</p> - -<p>“What?” said Coigny, “do you not know her? She is from Martinique. -They call her the ‘Flower of Martinique’—but surely you have seen her -before?”</p> - -<p>“I have been away from Paris for some weeks, hunting with Rochefort,” -said Camus, his eyes still on the girl.</p> - -<p>“Ah! that accounts for it,” said Coigny. “She is a new arrival.”</p> - -<p>“Introduce me.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly.”</p> - -<p>In a moment the introduction was made. Camus’s success with women was -due less, perhaps, to his force and personality, than to his knowledge -of them. Like Wilkes, he only wanted ten minutes’ start of the -handsomest man in town to beat him. With Mademoiselle Fontrailles he -was charming, courtly, deferential and graceful.</p> - -<p>He knew nothing of Rochefort’s experience with the girl, but he -needed no warning, and when the Duc de Soissons came up to claim her -as partner, he fancied that he had made a very good impression, as, -indeed, he had.</p> - -<p>He watched her dancing. If he had made a good impression on her, she -had made a deep impression upon him. He watched her with burning eyes, -as one might fancy a tiger watching a gazelle, then, turning away, he -passed through the crowd to the supper-room.</p> - -<p>Here, drinking at a buffet, he met a friend, Monsieur de Duras, a stout -gentleman—one of those persons<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> who know everything about everyone and -their affairs. Camus questioned him about Mademoiselle Fontrailles, -and learned her origin and history. Her father was the chief banker in -Martinique. She had come to Paris for her health. Attended by whom?</p> - -<p>“<em>Mon Dieu!</em>” said de Duras, “now you ask me a question. She has come -attended by no one but an old quadroon woman, and she lives, now in -apartments in the Rue St. Dominic, and now at Luciennes. She is a -friend of the Dubarry, to whom old Fontrailles owes many a concession -that has helped to make his fortune. But you may save yourself trouble, -my dear Camus—she is entirely unapproachable, one of those torches -that turn out to be icicles when you take a hold of them.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed!” said Camus. He stayed for a little while in the supper-room, -talking to several people; then he returned to the ball-room.</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle Fontrailles had disappeared. It took him some time to -ascertain this fact, searching hither and thither among the hundreds -of guests. The corridors, the landings, the hall, he tried them in -succession without result. The lady had vanished.</p> - -<p>The mind of Camus was of that type which can turn from one subject -to another, leaving the most burning questions to await their answer -whilst it is engaged in some alien consideration. Having failed to find -the woman who had charmed him, he turned his attention to the Dubarry -business.</p> - -<p>He had to find five friends whom he could trust, men absolutely devoted -to Choiseul, that is to say, sworn enemies of Dubarry. By midnight he -had picked out four gentlemen fit for the purpose, that is to say, four -titled rake-hells and blackguards, who would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> stick at nothing, and who -held the honour of women and the life of men equally cheap. He made an -appointment with these people to meet him at breakfast on the morrow -at his house in the Rue de la Trône, and was casting about for a fifth -when his eye fell on Rochefort, who, flushed with wine and winnings at -cards, had almost recovered his temper.</p> - -<p>Rochefort was just the man he wanted to complete his party. He thought -that he knew Rochefort thoroughly, and, taking him by the arm, he -turned to the entrance hall.</p> - -<p>“It is after midnight,” said Camus, “and I am off. Will you walk part -of the way with me, for I have something particular to say to you?”</p> - -<p>“You are going home?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t mind coming with you. I have won two hundred louis, and -if I stay I will be sure to lose them again. What is this you wish to -say?”</p> - -<p>“Wait till we are in the street,” replied Camus.</p> - -<p>They got their cloaks and hats and left the hôtel, crossing the -courtyard thronged with carriages, and turning to the right down the -Rue du Faubourg St. Honoré in the direction of the Rue St. Honoré.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” said Camus, taking the other’s arm, “we have made a famous -plan about the washerwoman.”</p> - -<p>“Dubarry?”</p> - -<p>“Who else? Her presentation is as good as cancelled.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I thought it was assured.”</p> - -<p>“It was.”</p> - -<p>“And what has happened to cancel it?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing. But things are going to happen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Explain yourself, my dear fellow; you are as mysterious as the Sibyl. -Are you going to strangle the Comtesse de Béarn?”</p> - -<p>“No, but we are going to steal Dubarry’s coach.”</p> - -<p>“Steal her coach?”</p> - -<p>“And not only her coach, but her gown and her hairdresser.”</p> - -<p>“Are you serious?” said Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“Perfectly. Is it not a splendid plan? It is all to take place at the -last moment—that is to say, at six o’clock to-morrow, or rather, -to-day, for it is now after midnight. Look you, this is the way of it.”</p> - -<p>Camus, bursting with laughter, made a sketch of what he proposed to do. -“I shall want five men at my back,” said he, “I have four; will you be -the fifth?”</p> - -<p>Rochefort made no reply for a moment. Then he said:</p> - -<p>“You know I am no friend of the Dubarrys, and that I would give a good -deal to see this shop-girl in her proper place. Yet what you propose to -me does not seem a work I would care to put my hand to. I would carry -off the Comtesse with pleasure, but to steal her carriage—well—to -that I can only reply, I am not a thief.”</p> - -<p>Camus withdrew his arm from that of Rochefort. He knew Rochefort as -a man who cared absolutely nothing for consequences—as a gambler, -a drinker, and a fighter who could have given points to most men -and beaten them at those amusements. He had failed to take into -his calculations the fact that Rochefort was a man of honour. This -desperado of a Rochefort had mired his clothes with all sorts of filth, -but his skin was clean. He always fought fair, and he never cheated at -play. Even in love, though his record was bad enough,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> he played the -game without any of those tricks with which men cheat women of their -honour.</p> - -<p>Camus, absolutely without scruple and with the soul of a footman, -despite the power of his mind and personality, had utterly failed to -read Rochefort aright, simply because, being blind to honour himself, -he could not see it in others. One may say of a man like Camus that -he may be clever as Lucifer, but he can never be a genius in affairs, -simply because of that partial blindness which is one of the adjuncts -of evil.</p> - -<p>“Oh, oh,” said he, “we have suddenly become very strait-laced!”</p> - -<p>“I?” said Rochefort. “Not at all! But your plan seems to me equivalent -to robbing a person of his purse so as to prevent him from taking the -stage to Versailles. It is a trick, but it is not a clever one, and if -you will excuse me for saying so, it is not the trick of a gentleman. -Coigny originated it, you say? I believe you. He has the mind of a -lackey and the manners of one—he only wants the livery.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said Camus, with a sneer, “it is easy to see you are for the -Dubarry party. Why do you not wear their colours then, openly, instead -of carrying them in your pocket with your conscience?”</p> - -<p>Rochefort laughed.</p> - -<p>“I do not wear my colours,” said he, “my servants wear them. They are -grey and crimson, not rose. I have nothing to do with the Dubarrys, -nor do I wish to have anything to do with them. The Comtesse can go to -Versailles or go to the devil for all I care—but what is that?”</p> - -<p>They had turned to the left up the broad way bordered by trees which -cut the Rue du Faubourg St. Honoré, and led from the Pont Tournant of -the Tuileries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> to the Hôtel de Chevilly. Rochefort’s attention had been -attracted by a woman’s screams coming from the narrow Rue de Chevilly -that ran by the hôtel. The moon had risen, and by its light he could -see a group of three people struggling; two men were attacking a woman.</p> - -<p>Always ready for a fight, he whipped his sword from its scabbard, and -calling on Camus to follow, ran at full speed towards the ruffians, -who, dropping their hold on the woman, took to their heels, doubling -down the road that led past the Bénédictines de la Ville l’Évêque. -Rochefort, forgetting Camus, the woman and everything else, pursued -hot-foot to the road corner, where the two men parted, one running down -the Rue de la Madeleine towards the river, the other up the street -leading to the Hôtel de Soyecourt.</p> - -<p>Rochefort pursued the latter, and for a very good reason. The man was -running into a cul-de-sac. The pursued one did not perceive this till -suddenly he found himself faced by the barrier, closed at night, which -extended from the wall of the Bénédictines to the wall of the cloister -of the Madeleine. Then he turned like a rat and Rochefort in the -moonlight had a full view of him.</p> - -<p>He was quite young, perhaps not more than eighteen, with a white, -degenerate, evil face—one of those faces that the Cour des Miracles -invented and constructed, that the Revolution patented and passed on to -the <em>banlieue</em> of Paris, and that the <em>banlieue</em> handed to us under the -title of “Apache.”</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said Rochefort, “I have got you!”</p> - -<p>The words were within an ace of being his last. The ruffian’s hand -shot up and a knife whistled past Rochefort’s neck, almost grazing it. -Instantly, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> like a streak of light, the sword of Rochefort passed -through the chest of the knife-thrower, pinning him to the door of the -barrier, where he dandled for a moment, flinging his arms about like a -marionette. Then, unpinned, he fell all of a heap on the cobble-stones. -The sword had gone clean through his heart. He was as dead as Calixtus.</p> - -<p>Rochefort had done the only thing possible to do with him—put him out -of existence; and feeling that the world was well rid of a ruffian, he -looked about for something to wipe his sword upon. A piece of paper was -blowing about in the wind and the moonlight; it was a scrap of an old -ballad then being hawked about Paris. He used it to wipe his sword, -returned the blade to its sheath, and, well content with the clean and -very sharp-cut business he had completed, returned on his tracks.</p> - -<p>Nearing again the Rue de Chevilly, he again heard the cries of a -woman, and next moment, turning the corner at a run, he saw two forms -struggling together, the form of a woman and the form of a man. Camus, -with his arm round the waist of the woman they had rescued, was trying -to kiss her. In a moment Rochefort was up to them. His quick blood -was boiling. To rescue a woman and then to assault her would, in cold -blood, have appeared to him the last act—in hot blood it raised the -devil in him against Camus. He ran up to them, crooked his arm in that -of the count, and, swinging him apart from his prey, struck him an -open-handed blow in the face that sent him rolling in the gutter. Then -he drew his sword.</p> - -<p>Now Camus was reckoned a brave man, and undoubtedly he was, but -courage has many qualities. Caught acting like a ruffian and smitten -open-handed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> in the face and cast in the gutter, he sat for a moment as -if stunned. Then, rising with his clothes and gloves soiled, he stood -for a moment gazing at Rochefort, but he did not draw his sword. His -spirit for the moment was broken.</p> - -<p>He had been caught acting like a blackguard, and that knowledge, -and the blow, and Rochefort’s anger, and the horrible indignity of -the whole business, paralysed the man in him, quelled his fury, and -disabled his arm.</p> - -<p>“We will see about this later on,” he said, and stooping for his -three-cornered hat, which was lying on the ground, he walked away in -the direction of the Rue de la Madeleine. Twenty yards off he turned, -gazed back at Rochefort, and then went on till the corner of the street -hid him from sight.</p> - -<p>Rochefort sheathed his sword, and turned to the woman, who was leaning, -trembling and gasping, against the wall of the Hôtel de Chevilly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu</em>,” said she, “what a night! Ah! monsieur, how can I ever -thank you for saving me!”</p> - -<p>She was young and pretty. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, -showing her dark hair and her face, on which the tears were still wet. -She was evidently a servant returning from some message, or perhaps -some rendezvous. Rochefort laughed as he stooped to pick up her -handkerchief, which had fallen on the ground.</p> - -<p>“There is nothing to thank me for,” said he. “Come, little one, pick up -your courage. And here is the handkerchief which you dropped. Have they -robbed you, those scamps?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur,” replied the girl; “the letter which I was carrying is -safe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, they were after a letter! But how did they know you had a letter -in your possession? Have they been following you?”</p> - -<p>“They followed me, monsieur, from my mistress’s home to the house where -I went to receive the letter, and from that house they followed me, -always at a distance, till I reached the street where they attacked me. -They asked me for the letter——”</p> - -<p>“Ah, they asked you for the letter!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, promising to let me go free if I gave it to them.”</p> - -<p>“And you?”</p> - -<p>“I refused, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Well, mademoiselle, your courage does you credit; and now take my arm, -and I will see you safe back to your home. <em>Mordieu</em>, many a man would -have given up letter and purse as well to escape from ruffians like -those. What is thy name, little one?”</p> - -<p>“Javotte,” replied the girl, taking his arm.</p> - -<p>“Well, Mademoiselle Javotte, your troubles are now at an end, and your -letter will arrive safely at its destination. Which way shall we turn?”</p> - -<p>“I am going to the Rue de Valois, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, well then, our quickest way is straight ahead and through the Rue -des Capucines. <em>En avant!</em>”</p> - -<p>As they went on their way they talked. Javotte was not a Parisienne by -birth—she hailed from Poictiers—but she had a fresh and lively mind -of her own, and to the Comte de Rochefort it came as a revelation that -this girl of humble extraction could be both interesting and amusing.</p> - -<p>The extraordinary circumstances attending their meeting and the fact -that he was playing the rôle of her protector served to destroy, in -part, those social<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> differences which would otherwise have divided -them. The whole thing was new and strange, and to a mind like -Rochefort’s, these elements were sufficiently captivating.</p> - -<p>In the Rue de Valois, Javotte paused at a postern door and drew a key -from her pocket.</p> - -<p>“This is the house, then,” said Rochefort. “What an ugly door to be the -end of our pleasant journey!”</p> - -<p>Javotte with a little sigh put the key in the lock of the ugly door and -opened it gently.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said she in a low voice, “I can never thank you enough. I -am only a poor girl, and have few words; but you will understand.”</p> - -<p>Something in the tone of her voice made Rochefort draw close to her, -and as he took the step she retreated, so that now they were in the -passage on which the door opened.</p> - -<p>“You will say good-night?” he whispered.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she replied in a murmur, “Good-night, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! not in that way—this.”</p> - -<p>She understood. Their lips met in the semi-darkness and his hand was -upon her waist when the door behind them, as if resenting the business, -closed with a snap. Almost on the sound, a door in front of them -opened, a flood of light filled the passage, and Rochefort, drawing -away from the girl, found himself face to face with a man, stout, well -but carelessly dressed, and holding a lamp in his hand.</p> - -<p>It was the Vicomte Jean Dubarry!</p> - -<p>Rochefort was so astounded by the recognition that for a moment he said -no word. The Vicomte, who did not recognize Rochefort at once, was so -astonished at the sight of a man in the passage with Javotte<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> that he -was equally dumb. The unfortunate Javotte, betrayed by the bad luck -that had dogged her all the evening, covered her face with her hands.</p> - -<p>After the first second of surprise, Rochefort remembered that the -Dubarry town house was situated in the Rue de Valois, and the fact that -he must be standing in the Comtesse’s house, and that he had saved her -maid and her letter, brought a laugh to his lips with his words.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em>” cried he. “Here’s a coincidence.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” cried Dubarry, now recognizing his man. “Why, it is Monsieur le -Comte de Rochefort!”</p> - -<p>“At your service,” said Rochefort, with another laugh.</p> - -<p>Dubarry bowed ironically. He knew Rochefort’s reputation, and he -fancied that the presence of this Don Juan was due to some intrigue -with Javotte. He had Rochefort at a disadvantage, but he did not wish -to press it. Rochefort was not the man to press. As for Javotte, Jean -Dubarry would not have cared had she a dozen intrigues on hand. He -wanted the letter for which she had been sent.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said he, “the hour is rather late. To what do I owe the -honour of this visit?”</p> - -<p>“Why,” said Rochefort, “I believe you owe it to the letter which -Mademoiselle Javotte has in her pocket and of which two men tried to -rob her in the Rue de Chevilly half an hour ago.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le Vicomte,” said Javotte, recovering herself, “I was -followed to the address you gave me by two men. Then, when I was -returning with this letter, they attacked me and would have taken it -from me but for this brave gentleman, who beat them off. He escorted me -home. I was saying good-night to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> him here when the door shut to and -you entered.” She took the letter from her pocket and handed it to him.</p> - -<p>Jean Dubarry’s manner instantly changed as he took the letter. He -knew that Rochefort belonged to no party, and to attach this powerful -firebrand to the Dubarry faction would be a stroke of very good policy. -Also, he wished to know more about the affair.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur Rochefort,” said he, smiling, “you have done us a service. We -are deeply beset by enemies, and if you wanted proof of that, the fact -that our servant has been attacked to-night, on account of this letter, -would supply you with it. In the name of the Comtesse, I thank you. And -now, will you not come in? This cold passage is but the entrance to a -house that is still warm enough, thank God, for the entertainment of -our friends. And though the hour is late, it is of importance that I -should have a word with you on the matter.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Rochefort, “I shall be glad also to have a moment’s -talk with you.”</p> - -<p>He felt slightly disturbed in mind. If everything was as it appeared to -be, then the man he had killed was not a common robber, but a creature -of Choiseul’s; and, however vile this creature might have been, -Choiseul would visit the man who had killed him with his vengeance, -should he discover the fact.</p> - -<p>Truly, this was a nice imbroglio, and he was even deepening it now by -accepting an invitation to enter the house of Choiseul’s most bitter -enemy. But Rochefort was a man who, when in a difficulty, always -went forward, depending on the strength of his own arm to cut his -way through. If he was bound to be involved in politics, and Court -intrigue, fate had ordained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> that he would have to fight against -Choiseul, and if that event came about, it would be better to have the -Dubarrys at his back than no one.</p> - -<p><em>En avant!</em> was his motto, and, following the broad back of the -Vicomte, and being followed, in turn, by little Javotte, he left the -passage and entered the house of the Dubarrys.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">A COUNCIL OF WAR</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE Vicomte led the way along a corridor with painted walls and a -ceiling wherefrom impossibly fat cupids pelted one in gesture with -painted roses.</p> - -<p>He opened a door, and with a courtly bow, ushered Rochefort into a -small room exquisitely furnished, and lit by a swinging crystal lamp of -seven points burning perfumed oil. This house of the Dubarrys had once -belonged to Jean de Ségur, a forbear of General Philippe de Ségur, that -ardent Royalist who, at the sight of Murat’s dragoons galloping through -the gate of the Pont Tournant, forgot his grief at the destruction of -the old <em>régime</em>, and became a soldier of Napoleon’s.</p> - -<p>It was furnished regardless of expense. Boucher had supervised the -paintings that adorned the ceilings, the Maison Grandier had produced -the chairs and couches, Versailles had contributed porcelain idols, -bonbonnières, and a hundred other knicknacks. Ispahan and Bussorah -had contributed the carpets, at a price, through the great Oriental -house of Habib, Gobelins the tapestry, Sèvres the china, and the glass -manufactory of the Marquis de Louviers the glass. It was for this -house, perhaps, rather than for Luciennes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> that the Comtesse had -refused Fragonard’s exquisite panels, “The Romance of Love and Youth,” -a crime against taste which, strangely enough, found no place in the -<em>procès-verbal</em>.</p> - -<p>Dubarry, excusing himself for a moment, closed the door, and Rochefort -glanced round the room wherein he found himself.</p> - -<p>Everything was in white or rose; the floor was of parquet, covered here -and there with white fur rugs; on the rose-coloured silk of one of the -settees lay a fan, as if cast there but a moment ago; and a volume of -the poems of Marot, bound in white vellum and stamped with the Dubarry -arms and their motto, “<em>Boutez en avant</em>” lay upon a chair, as if just -put down in haste.</p> - -<p>A white-enamelled door, half-hidden by rose-coloured silk curtains, -faced the door by which he had entered, and from the room beyond, -Rochefort, as he paced the floor and examined the objects of art around -him, could hear a faint murmur of voices. Five minutes passed, and -Rochefort, having glanced at the fan, peeped into the volume of poems, -set the huge Chinese mandarin that adorned one of the alcoves wagging -his head, and wound up and broken a costly musical-box, turned suddenly -upon his heel.</p> - -<p>The door leading into the next room had opened, and a woman stood -before him, young, plump, fair-haired and very pretty, exquisitely -dressed.</p> - -<p>It was the Comtesse Dubarry.</p> - -<p>Behind her, Jean Dubarry’s gross figure showed, and behind Jean the -dark hair of a girl, who was holding a fan to her face as though to -conceal her mirth or her features—or both.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le Comte de Rochefort, Madame la<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> Comtesse Dubarry,” came -Jean’s voice across the Countess’s shoulder, and then the golden voice -of the woman, as she made a little curtsey:</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le Comte de Rochefort. Why, I know him!”</p> - -<p>Rochefort bowed low. He had met Madame Dubarry at Versailles—that is -to say, he had made his bow to her with the thousands of others who -thronged the great halls, but he had never hung about the ante-chambers -of her special apartment with the other courtiers. He fancied her -recognition held more politeness than truth, but in this he was -mistaken. Madame Dubarry knew everybody and everything about them. She -had a marvellously retentive and clear memory, and an equally quick -mind. An ordinary woman in her position would have been lost in a week.</p> - -<p>“And though I have had no proof of his friendship before, I know him -now to be my friend. Monsieur Rochefort, I thank you.”</p> - -<p>She held out her hand, which he touched with his lips.</p> - -<p>Raising his head from the act, he saw the girl with the fan looking -at him; she had lowered the fan from her face. It was Mademoiselle -Fontrailles!</p> - -<p>“Madame,” said he, replying to the Comtesse, “it was nothing. If I have -served you, it has been through an accident, yet I esteem it a very -fortunate accident that has enabled me to use my sword in your service.”</p> - -<p>Though he ignored Mademoiselle Fontrailles, his heart had leaped in -him at the recognition. It seemed to him that Fate had willed that he -should find his interests entangled in those of the beautiful woman who -had smitten him in more ways than one. But,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> as yet, he did not know -whether it was to be an entanglement of war or peace, an alliance or a -feud.</p> - -<p>“Camille,” said the Comtesse, “this is Monsieur de Rochefort.” She -smiled as she said the words, and Rochefort, as he bowed, knew -instantly that the Flower of Martinique had told of the incident at -the ball, nor did he care, for the warm glance in her dark eyes and -the smile on her lips said, as plainly as words: “Let us forget and -forgive.” From that moment he was Dubarry’s man.</p> - -<p>“I had the pleasure of seeing Mademoiselle Fontrailles at Monsieur de -Choiseul’s to-night,” said he, “in the company of my friend, Madame -de Courcelles.” Then, turning sharply to the Comtesse: “Madame, there -are so many coincidences at work to-night, that it seems to me Fate -herself must have some hand in the matter. Now, mark! I go to Monsieur -de Choiseul’s, and I meet Mademoiselle Fontrailles, who is your friend; -as if the alchemy of that friendship had touched me, on my walk home -through the streets, I had the honour to be of service to you by -protecting your messenger; I offer her my protection and escort and I -find myself at your house; I meet the Vicomte Dubarry, and he invites -me in to talk over the matter, and here, again, I meet Mademoiselle -Fontrailles.”</p> - -<p>He bowed to the girl, who bowed in return with a charming little laugh, -whilst Jean Dubarry closed the door, and pushed forward chairs for the -ladies to be seated.</p> - -<p>“But that is not all,” continued Rochefort, addressing his remarks -again to the Comtesse; “for if it has been my good luck to have served -you in the matter of the letter, it will perhaps be my good fortune<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> -to assist you on a matter more serious still. You know, or perhaps -you do not know, that I am a man of no party and no politics, yet it -would be idle for me to shut my eyes to the finger that points my way, -and my ears to the voice that whispers to me that my direction is the -direction of the Rue de Valois.”</p> - -<p>He bowed slightly, and his bow included Mademoiselle Fontrailles. The -Comtesse had been looking at him attentively all this while, and her -quick mind divined something of importance behind his words.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur Rochefort,” said she, indicating a chair, whilst she herself -took her seat on a settee by the side of Mademoiselle Fontrailles, “you -have something to tell me. I have the gift of second sight, and I guess -that this something is of importance; in my experience, I find that the -important things are always the unpleasant things of life, so put me -out of my anxiety, I pray you.”</p> - -<p>“I will, madame; you have divined rightly. My news is unpleasant, -simply because it relates to a conspiracy against you.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! ah!” said Jean Dubarry, who had not taken a seat, but was standing -by the mantelpiece, snuff-box in hand. “A conspiracy.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte, a conspiracy.”</p> - -<p>“Against my life?” asked the Comtesse, with a laugh. “It would be -a bright idea for some of them to attack that instead of my poor -reputation. Unfortunately, however, these gentlemen are incapable of a -bright idea.”</p> - -<p>“No, madame, they do not propose to take your life; they propose to -steal your coachman, your hairdresser and the robe that you are to wear -to-morrow evening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>Jean Dubarry almost dropped his snuff-box; he swore a frightful oath; -and the Countess, fully alive to the gravity of the news, stared -open-eyed at Rochefort. Mademoiselle Fontrailles alone found words, -other than blasphemies, to express her feelings.</p> - -<p>“Ah, the wretches!” said she. “I thought they would leave no stone -unturned by their vile hands.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said the Comtesse, finding voice, “are you certain of what -you say?”</p> - -<p>“Why, madame, they invited me to take a part in the business.”</p> - -<p>“And you refused?”</p> - -<p>“I refused, madame, not because I was of your party—in fact, to be -perfectly plain, at that moment I was rather against you—I refused -because I considered the whole proceeding a trick dishonouring to a -gentleman; and I told Monsieur Camus my opinion of the business in a -very few words.”</p> - -<p>“Comte Camus? Was he the agent who brought you this proposition?”</p> - -<p>“He was, madame. I can say so now openly, since we are no longer -friends. We quarrelled on a certain matter to-night, and if you are -desirous of knowing the details of our little quarrel, Javotte will be -able to supply them.”</p> - -<p>But the Comtesse had no ears for anything but the immediate danger that -threatened her, and Rochefort had to tell the whole story from the -beginning to the end.</p> - -<p>“Death of all the devils!” cried Jean Dubarry, when the story was -finished. “What an escape!”</p> - -<p>“The question is,” said Madame Dubarry, “have we escaped and shall we -be able to prevent these infamous ones from carrying out their plan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“Prevent them!” cried Jean. “I will pistol the first man that lays -hands on the carriage. I will lock the hairdresser up in the cellar -till the moment comes when he is wanted. As for the modiste, we will -arrange that she will be all right. Prevent them! <em>Mordieu!</em> Yes, we -will prevent them.”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me,” said Rochefort, “but if I may be allowed to give my -advice, I would say to you, do not prevent them; let them carry out -their plan.”</p> - -<p>“And let them take my carriage?”</p> - -<p>“And the dress!” cried Mademoiselle Fontrailles.</p> - -<p>“And the hairdresser!” put in Jean.</p> - -<p>“Precisely,” said Rochefort. “With that power which is at your -disposal, madame, can you not have a new dress created, a new carriage -obtained, and a new hairdresser found in the course of the few hours -before us? My reason is this. Should they fancy that their plan is -successful they will try nothing else. Should we thwart them openly, I -would not say at what they would stop.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly,” cried Jean, “there’s truth in that. Can we not find a -carriage, a dress and a coiffeur! Let us think—let us think!” He -walked up and down the room, twisting his ruffles.</p> - -<p>“No one can dress my hair like Lubin,” said the Countess.</p> - -<p>“Excuse me,” said Rochefort, “but I believe there is a man whom I know -who is a genius in the art. He is unknown; but the day after to-morrow, -should you employ him, I believe he will be known to all Europe.”</p> - -<p>“As to the dress,” said Mademoiselle Fontrailles, “you know, dear -madame, that I was to be presented also. And our figures, are they not -nearly the same?”</p> - -<p>“<em>Dame!</em>” cried Jean, hitting himself a smack on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> the forehead. “I have -the carriage! It is at Vaudrin’s, in the Rue de la Madeleine. I saw it -yesterday. It has been made to the order of the Comtesse Walewski, who, -it seems, has not arrived yet; and all it requires is that the Dubarry -arms should be painted over those of the Comtesse. We only want a loan -of it, and five thousand francs will pay the bill.”</p> - -<p>The Comtesse turned to Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur Rochefort, I can trust your taste as I trust your friendship. -All I ask you as a woman is this: Are you sure of your hairdresser?”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely, madame; he is an artist to the tips of his fingers. I will -stake my reputation on him.”</p> - -<p>The Comtesse inclined her head. She turned to Mademoiselle Fontrailles.</p> - -<p>“Camille, have you thought that this act of generosity will ruin -your presentation, for if I am to wear your dress, which is divinely -beautiful and has cost you a hundred thousand francs, how, then, are -you to appear before his Majesty?”</p> - -<p>“Madame,” said the girl, “I will have a cold; my presentation will be -put off, that is all. And I esteem it a very small sacrifice to make -for one who has benefited my family so deeply. Besides, madame, even if -my presentation never occurred, it would not give me a sleepless night. -The world has very few attractions for me.”</p> - -<p>Her dark eyes met those of Rochefort for a moment. There are seconds -of time that carry in them the essence of years, and it seemed to -Rochefort, in these few seconds, that some magic in the dark gaze of -the eyes that held him had seized upon his mind, indelibly altering it.</p> - -<p>The Comtesse’s only reply was to lay her hand in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span> caressing way upon -the beautiful arm of her friend. She turned to Jean:</p> - -<p>“Jean, are you sure of the carriage?”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu</em>, yes. Vaudrin is ours entirely.”</p> - -<p>“Will it be possible to have the arms altered in this short time?”</p> - -<p>“He will do it. I will call upon him to-morrow morning at six o’clock.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said the Comtesse, “I accept. I accept everything—your advice, -Monsieur de Rochefort, and your sacrifice, Camille. But it is a debt I -can never repay.”</p> - -<p>This sweet sentence was suddenly broken upon by a shriek of laughter -from Jean. Dubarry rarely laughed, but when he did so it took him like -convulsions—a very bad sign in a man. He flung himself on a couch and -slapped his thigh.</p> - -<p>“Their faces,” cried he, “when you appear, when the usher cries, -‘Madame la Comtesse de Béarn, Madame la Comtesse Dubarry.’ Choiseul’s -face!”</p> - -<p>“And Polastron’s!” cried the Comtesse, catching up the laugh. “And de -Guemenée’s!”</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle Fontrailles clasped her hands and laughed too. One might -have fancied that they were quite assured of their victory over the -profound and duplex Choiseul. They were laughing like this when a -man-servant appeared. He had knocked at the door, but as he had -received no answer and his business was urgent, he entered.</p> - -<p>“Madame,” said the servant, “Monsieur de Sartines has arrived, and -would speak a word with you on a matter of importance.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur de Sartines,” said the Comtesse, rising, “at this hour! Show -him in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>Everyone rose, and as they stood waiting, the little clock on the -mantel chimed the hour. It was two o’clock in the morning. A minute -passed, and then the servant returned, opening wide the door.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur de Sartines.”</p> - -<p>Sartines bowed to the Comtesse, and then, individually, to each -present. He showed scarcely any surprise at the presence of Rochefort.</p> - -<p>Sartines was the burning centre of this conspiracy to present the -Comtesse Dubarry at Court in the teeth of all the opposition of the -nobles, and he wished his part in it to be as secret as possible; yet -he did not question Rochefort’s presence. He knew quite well that, -Rochefort being there, he must have joined hands with the Comtesse. He -was a man who never wasted time.</p> - -<p>“Madame,” said he, “I have grave news to tell you.”</p> - -<p>“Aha!” said the Comtesse, “more bad news. But stay, perhaps we know it. -Is it the plot to rob me of my carriage and my hairdresser?”</p> - -<p>“No, madame, I know nothing of any plot to rob you of your carriage. -It is about the Comtesse de Béarn I have come to speak. Did she not -receive a present to-day?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, a basket of flowers from an old lady who belongs to her province. -A Madame Turgis.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said de Sartines, “and a Secret Service agent has just brought -me news that amidst the flowers in that basket was a note.”</p> - -<p>“A note!”</p> - -<p>“A letter, I should say, giving the Comtesse de Béarn a full and true -account of the little plan by which she was induced to come to Paris<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu!</em>” cried Madame Dubarry. “If the old fool only gets to -know that, we are ruined! I know her as well as if I had constructed -her. Once her pride and self-esteem are touched, she is hopeless to -deal with.”</p> - -<p>“At what hour did this basket of flowers arrive?” asked de Sartines.</p> - -<p>“At four o’clock.”</p> - -<p>“It has been in her private apartments ever since?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>De Sartines looked at the clock on the mantel.</p> - -<p>“Ten hours and seven minutes. Well, madame, if in that time the -Comtesse de Béarn has not discovered the note, you are saved. Go at -once, madame, to her apartments, and if you can capture the accursed -basket and its contents, for Heaven’s sake do so. We must give her no -chance to find it in the morning.”</p> - -<p>Madame Dubarry left the room without a word. She passed through the -next room and down a corridor, where, taking a small lamp from a table, -she turned with it in her hand to a narrow staircase leading to the -next floor. Here she paused at a doorway, listened, and then, gently -opening the door, entered the Comtesse de Béarn’s sitting-room.</p> - -<p>On a table near the window stood the fateful basket of flowers. The -folding-doors leading to the bedroom were slightly open, and the -intruder was approaching to seize the basket, when a sound from the -bedroom made her pause, a low, deep groan, as if from someone in mortal -pain.</p> - -<p>“Help!” cried a muffled voice. “Who is that with the light? Ah! how I -suffer!”</p> - -<p>Without a word the Comtesse passed to the folding-doors, opened them, -and next moment was in the bedroom.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> On the bed, half-covered with the -clothes, lay the Comtesse de Béarn, on the floor near the stove lay a -chocolate-pot upset, and the contents staining the parquet.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mon Dieu!</em>” cried Madame Dubarry. “What has happened?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, madame!” cried the old woman, “I am nearly dead. Here have I lain -for hours in my misery. The pot of chocolate which I was heating on the -stove upset—and look at my leg!”</p> - -<p>She protruded a leg, and Madame Dubarry drew back with a cry. Foot -and ankle and the leg half-way up to the shin bone were scalded in a -manner that would be unpleasant to describe; but it was not the scalded -leg that evoked Madame Dubarry’s cry of anguish. It was the knowledge -that her presentation was now hopeless. For the Comtesse de Béarn to -undertake the journey to Versailles with a leg like that was clearly -impossible.</p> - -<p>The Choiseuls had taken all precautions, their bow had many strings. -This was the fatal one. The old woman on the bed, though suffering -severely, could not suppress the gleam of triumph that showed in her -eyes, now fixed on those of the Comtesse.</p> - -<p>“Ah, madame!” said Dubarry, “this was ill done. Had you known what -personal issues to yourself were involved, you would have been more -careful!” Then, lest she should lose all restraint over herself, and -fling the lamp in her hand at the head of the scalded one, she rushed -from the room, seized the basket of flowers, and with basket in one -hand and lamp in the other reached the ground floor, taking this time -the grand staircase. She broke into the room, where de Sartines and the -others were seated, flung the basket on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> a chair, so that it upset and -the contents tumbled pell-mell over the floor, and broke into tears.</p> - -<p>Everyone knew.</p> - -<p>“Has she found out?” cried Jean.</p> - -<p>“Madame,” said de Sartines, waving the Vicomte aside, “calm yourself; -all may not yet be lost.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, monsieur, you do not know,” sobbed the unfortunate woman. “Not -only has she found out, but she has scalded her leg, so that the affair -is now absolutely hopeless.” She told her tale, and as she told it her -sobs ceased, her eyes grew bright, and she finished standing before -them with clenched hands and sparkling eyes, more beautiful than ever.</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle Fontrailles had been collecting the flowers; there was -no sign of a letter among them. Jean Dubarry, white and beyond speech -and unable to vent his spleen on anything else, had cuffed the China -mandarin on to the floor, where it lay shattered. Rochefort, carried -away by the tragedy, was cursing. De Sartines only was calm.</p> - -<p>“It is impossible, then, for her to appear at Versailles?” said he.</p> - -<p>“Utterly, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Well, madame,” said de Sartines, “courage; all is not yet lost.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Monsieur de Sartines,” said the Comtesse, “what do you mean? Do -you not know as well as I do that, failing the Comtesse de Béarn, the -thing is impossible? Even were I to find someone qualified to take the -place of this old woman, there would still be all the formalities of -the application. Monsieur de la Vrillière would have to inquire into -the antecedents of the lady, and Monsieur de Coigny would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> have to -receive the request, only to lose it for Monsieur to find and cancel on -account of the delay.”</p> - -<p>“Madame,” cut in de Sartines, “the plan which has just occurred to me -has nothing to do with the finding of a substitute. Madame la Comtesse -de Béarn shall present you; or, let us put it in this way: to-morrow -evening at ten o’clock you will be presented to his Majesty at the -Court of Versailles. I am only mortal, and therefore fallible; but if -you will leave the matter in my hands the thing shall be done, always -saving the direct interposition of God.”</p> - -<p>“You are, then, a magician?” cried the Comtesse.</p> - -<p>“No, madame; or only a white magician who works through human agency.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Monsieur de Sartines,” cried the Comtesse, hope appearing again in -her eyes, “if you can only help me in this, I shall pray for you till -my dying day!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, madame,” replied de Sartines, with a laugh, “I would never dream -of imposing such a task upon the most beautiful lips in the world. I -only ask you now to work with me, for this immediate end.”</p> - -<p>“And what can I do?”</p> - -<p>“Carry on all your preparations for to-morrow night. Monsieur Rochefort -has explained to me the plot for the stealing of the carriage, the -dress and the coiffeur. Let the Vicomte attend to the carriage, let -Mademoiselle Fontrailles supply you with her dress, and let your most -trusted servant fetch the coiffeur that Monsieur Rochefort knows of.”</p> - -<p>“I will fetch him myself,” said Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“No, Rochefort,” said de Sartines, “I have need of you for something -else. May I put my reliance on your obedience in this crisis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“Implicitly, Sartines,” replied the Comte. “Call upon me for what you -will. <em>Mordieu!</em> I have fought many a duel, but never has a fight -stirred my blood like this. I will act any part or dress for any part -except the part of spectator.”</p> - -<p>“I will find enough for you to do, and now I must be going. It is after -three o’clock, and if you will take a seat in my carriage, I will give -you a lift on your way home, and explain what I want.”</p> - -<p>“And I will see you again, monsieur?” said the Comtesse, addressing the -Minister of Police.</p> - -<p>“Not till after the presentation, Madame, when I hope to have the -honour of kissing your hand. You understand, I have nothing to do with -this affair. You must even abuse me to your friends, who are absolutely -sure to be in communication with your enemies. And now, if I were you, -I would send for your physician to attend to Madame de Béarn’s leg.”</p> - -<p>He bade his adieux.</p> - -<p>Rochefort, having scribbled the name of the coiffeur on a piece -of paper supplied by Jean, gazed into the eyes of Mademoiselle -Fontrailles, as he lifted his lips from her hand. He fancied that her -glance told him all that he wished, and more than he had hoped.</p> - -<p>In the hall Sartines enveloped himself in a black cloak, put on a -broad-brimmed hat, and, followed by Rochefort, entered the carriage -that was waiting in the courtyard. It was a carriage, perfectly plain, -without adornment, such as the Minister used when wishing to mask his -movements.</p> - -<p>“You did not come in your own carriage, then?” said Rochefort, as they -drove away.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear, no,” said Sartines. “My carriage is still waiting at -Choiseul’s. I slipped away, having already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> sent an agent for this -plain carriage to meet me at the third lamp-post on the right, as you -go up the Rue St. Honoré from the Rue du Faubourg.”</p> - -<p>“You had an agent in attendance, then?”</p> - -<p>“My dear Rochefort, three of Choiseul’s servants are my agents, and it -was from one of them that I learned of this precious plot about the -basket of flowers. You live in the Rue de Longueville!”</p> - -<p>“Ah, you know my new address!” said Rochefort, laughing.</p> - -<p>“I know everything about you, my dear Rochefort. Now, will you put your -head out of the window, and tell the coachman to drive to the Rue de -Longueville? I cannot go back to the Hôtel de Sartines at once. I must -crave the shelter of your apartments; we are being followed.”</p> - -<p>“Followed?”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu</em>, yes! The Dubarrys’ house has been watched all day. When I -drove up in this carriage, I saw one of Choiseul’s agents, who, without -doubt, tried to question my coachman whilst I was in the house; a -perfectly useless proceeding, as my coachman is Sergeant Bonvallot. I -know quite well, now, that there is a man running after us, so do as I -say.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort put his head out and gave the direction.</p> - -<p>“My faith!” said he, as he resumed his place, “but they are keen, the -Choiseuls.”</p> - -<p>“They are more than that. You cannot guess at all the way this matter -has stirred the whole court. Of course, when the thing is over and -done with, and the presentation an accomplished matter, the Comtesse -will not be able to number her friends. But she is lost if Choiseul -succeeds, and if she succeeds Choiseul is lost. Once give her an -accredited place at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> court, and the breaking of Choiseul will be only -the matter of a few months.”</p> - -<p>“Sartines,” said the young man with that daring which gave him -permission to say things other men would not have dreamed of saying, -“you are not doing this for love of the Dubarry?”</p> - -<p>“I?” said de Sartines. “I am doing it to break Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>The carriage which had entered the Rue de Longueville stopped at a -house on the left, and the two men got out.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE METHODS OF MONSIEUR DE SARTINES</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">DE SARTINES said a word to his coachman and, without even glancing down -the street to see if he were followed or not, entered the house, the -door of which Rochefort had opened with a key. They passed upstairs to -the apartments of the Count. In the sitting-room de Sartines cast off -his cloak, flung it on a chair with his hat, and took his seat.</p> - -<p>“Now let us talk for a moment,” said he. “And first, a word about -yourself. It is unfortunate that you killed that man, considering that -he was one of Choiseul’s agents.”</p> - -<p>“I killed him in self-defence,” said Rochefort; “or at least, I can say -that he attempted my life before I took his.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, the killing is nothing,” said de Sartines. “The vermin is well -out of the way. What really matters is, that you balked Choiseul in -his attempt to spy upon Dubarry’s secrets. Of course, he may never -know the truth of the matter; but, if he does—well, you will need a -lot of protection, and we will endeavour to find it for you. Now to -the Comtesse’s business. It is quite clear that the old Béarn woman -is literally out of court. Every other woman in Paris or Versailles -is equally impossible, or, at least, seemingly so. I, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> Minister of -Police, have great power; but I am powerless to help, for to help I -would have to declare my hand openly, which, as you well may guess, -is impossible to one in my position. Besides, my power has limits. I -cannot say to one of these Court women: ‘You <em>shall</em> present Madame -Dubarry to-night.’ No; yet all the same, I am powerful enough to ensure -that presentation, I believe.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort listened with interest. It was rarely that de Sartines -unbosomed himself, and when he did it was generally only to show a -cuirass of steel painted to imitate flesh; but to-night was different. -He knew Rochefort to be absolutely reliable to those who trusted him.</p> - -<p>“You talk in enigmas, my dear Sartines,” said the young man. “You say -you are powerless, and then you say you are powerful enough to assure -the presentation. Please explain yourself.”</p> - -<p>“No man can explain himself, with the exception, perhaps, of Monsieur -Rousseau, whose ‘Confessions’ you have perhaps read. But a man may -explain his methods. Well, my methods are these. Being by nature a -rather stupid and lazy man, I seek out the cleverest and most active -men I can find to act for me. People fancy that my life is spent in -searching for criminals, political offenders, and so forth; on the -contrary, it is spent in looking for clever men. I have one gift, -without which no man can hold a position like mine. I know men.</p> - -<p>“More than that, I hunt for men and buy them just as M. Boehmer hunts -for and buys diamonds. The consequence is that I have more genius at my -command in the Hôtel de Sartines than his Majesty has at Versailles or -Choiseul at the Ministry. I have Escritain,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> the greatest linguist in -France, who knows not only all European languages, but all dialects. -I have Fremin, the first cryptographer. I have Jumeau, the first -accountant, who could reduce the value of the universe to francs and -sous and, more important, discover an error in his work of one centime. -I have Beauregard, the bravest man in France; Verpellieux, the best -swordsman; Valjean, whose tongue would talk him into the nether regions -and whose hand, if it caught hold of some new Eurydice, would bring her -out, even though it fetched everything else with her. I have Formineux, -a blind man whose sense of smell is phenomenal; and I have Lavenne, the -greatest Secret Service agent in the world. Bring me a book you can’t -translate, the name of a man you can’t find, a crime you can’t fathom, -a suspicion you want verified, you will find the answer at the Hôtel de -Sartines. One of these brave men, who are mine, will read the riddle.</p> - -<p>“But outside the Hôtel de Sartines I have other men at my service. -Yes, you will find a lot of people attached to us. You yourself, my -dear Rochefort, have just become one of us. The Hôtel de Sartines has -touched you.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort laughed. “If it does not touch me any more unpleasantly than -now, I shall not mind,” said he. “But you have not yet explained.”</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“Your plans as to the Dubarry.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that. I was coming to that; let me come to it in my own way. I -have shown you the power at my disposal. I have all sorts of brains -ready to work for me, all sorts of hands ready to do my bidding; but -all those brains and hands would be useless to me had I not an intimate -knowledge of their capacities,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> and had I not the power of selection. -More than that, my dear Rochefort; I have, I believe, the dramatist’s -gift of valuing and using shades of character. Dealing, as I do, with -the most complex and highly civilized society in the world, I would -be lost without this gift, which might have made me a good dramatist -if Fate had not condemned me to be a policeman. In fact, my work at -Versailles and in Paris has mainly to do with the reading backwards -through plots, far more complicated than the plots of Molière, to find -the authors’ names.</p> - -<p>“Now I come to the Dubarry business. This woman must be presented -to-morrow night. Choiseul has as good as stolen her carriage and her -dressmaker—that will be put right. Choiseul has succeeded in making -Madame de Béarn half boil herself to death. But Choiseul, who fancies -that he has the whole business in the palm of his hand, has reckoned -without the Hôtel de Sartines and the geniuses whom I have collected -for years past, just as Monsieur d’Anjou collects seals or Monsieur de -Duras Roman coins.</p> - -<p>“I am about to employ one of these geniuses to work a miracle for -Madame Dubarry. His name is Ferminard. He lives at the Maison -Gambrinus—which is a tavern in the Porcheron quarter—and, as you have -promised to serve us, you will go there to-morrow at noon, or a little -before, with my agent Lavenne, and conduct this Ferminard to the Rue de -Valois. Lavenne will not go to the Rue de Valois, for I will have other -work for him to do, and besides, it is just as well for him not to go -near the Dubarrys’ house, for, clever as he is in the art of disguise, -Choiseul will have men watching all day who have the scent of hounds. -We must run no risks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Let us understand,” said Rochefort. “I am to meet your agent, -Lavenne—where?”</p> - -<p>“He will call for you here.”</p> - -<p>“Good! Then I am to go with him to the Maison Gambrinus, find -Ferminard, and conduct him to Madame Dubarry’s house in the Rue de -Valois—all that seems very simple.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps. But you must be on your guard, for this Ferminard is a <em>bon -viveur</em>. Taverns simply suck him in, and were he to get lost in one, -you would find him next drunk and useless.”</p> - -<p>“A drunkard?”</p> - -<p>“No, a man who drinks. Never look down on these people, Rochefort. -Drink may be simply the rags a beggar walks in, or the robes and -regalia that a royal mind adorns itself with to enter the kingdom of -dreams.”</p> - -<p>“And what am I to tell this Ferminard to do?”</p> - -<p>“You are to tell him nothing, simply because you are a stranger to -him, and he would look on orders from a stranger as an impertinence. -Lavenne, however, knows him to the bone, and is a friend of his. -Lavenne will give him private instructions, and then hand him over to -you.”</p> - -<p>“Very well. I will obey your orders, though they completely mystify me.”</p> - -<p>“I assure you,” said de Sartines, “that I have no intention of -mystifying you; but I cannot explain my idea to you simply because I -have to explain it to Lavenne. It is after four in the morning, and I -must get back to the Hôtel de Sartines. There is a man still watching -at the corner of the street; he must not follow me. Now, do as I tell -you. Take my black cloak and broad-brimmed hat, and put them on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> We -are both about the same size. Go out, walk down the street, go down the -Rue de la Tour, and then through the Rue Picpus, returning here by the -Rue de la Vallière. The fool will follow you all the time.”</p> - -<p>“And you?”</p> - -<p>“And I,” said de Sartines, putting on Rochefort’s cloak and hat, “will -slip away to the Hôtel de Sartines, whilst you are leading that <em>sot</em> -his dance.”</p> - -<p>“But he will follow me back here.”</p> - -<p>“Of course he will, and he will see you go in and shut the door. -Lavenne will bring you back your cloak and hat in a parcel. The point -is, that they will never know that the man in the black cloak and hat, -who left the Hôtel Dubarry with Monsieur Rochefort, returned to the -Hôtel de Sartines.”</p> - -<p>“But your carriage?”</p> - -<p>“I told the coachman to take the carriage back to the place it came -from. They will not follow an empty carriage; were they to do so, they -would get nothing for their pains, as it came from a livery stable -managed by the wife of Jumeau, that accountant of whom I spoke just -now.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort looked in astonishment at this man, whose methods were as -intricate and minute as the reasoning power that directed them; whose -life was a maze to which he alone possessed the clue, and whose path -was never in a straight line.</p> - -<p>He followed implicitly the instructions he had received, conscious all -the time that he was being tracked, and once glimpsing a stealthy form -that slipped from house-shadow to house-shadow. When he returned, de -Sartines had vanished, and, casting himself on his bed dressed as he -was, wearied with the night’s work, he fell asleep.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">FERMINARD</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">WHEN he awoke, with the full daylight staring into the room, the first -remembrance that came to him was that of Mademoiselle Fontrailles. The -whole of the past night seemed like some page torn from a romance; only -this girl from the South seemed real. He was in love, for the first -time in his life, and he did not recognize the fact that his passion -had bound him openly to the Dubarrys, cast him head over heels into -politics, to sink or swim with that exceedingly dubious family.</p> - -<p>Rochefort had a big stake to lose; he had estates in Auvergne, his -youth and his position in society. He had no political ambitions, but -he had an ambition, ever living and always being gratified, to shine -in his own peculiar way. He set the fashion in coats and morals, his -sayings were repeated, even though many of them were scarcely worth -repetition; his eccentricities, which were genuine and not assumed, -were a feature of Paris life. Paris was his true home, and though he -was seen frequently at Versailles, he was seen more often at the Café -de Régence. He was the first of the dandies, the predecessor of the -<em>boulevardier</em> of the Boulevard de Gand and the Café de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> Paris, the -prefiguration in flesh of Tortoni’s and the Second Empire.</p> - -<p>Our present utilitarian age could no more produce a Rochefort than -one of our engineers could produce a butterfly; only the full summer -of social life which fell on Athens four hundred years before Christ, -which fell on France in the time of Louis XIV. and Louis XV., and which -brushed England with its wing in the time of the Regency, can produce -these rare and useless human flowers. Useless, that is to say, as fine -pictures, Ming figures, and live dragon-flies are useless.</p> - -<p>He had, then, a big stake to lose by venturing into the stormy arena -of politics, for the hand of de Choiseul was a heavy hand, and with -the famous diamond-rimmed snuff-box held many things, including -confiscation, exile, and even imprisonment. But Rochefort never thought -of this, and, if he had thought of it, he would have pursued his -present course absolutely unchecked. This dandy and trifler with life -had no thought at all for danger, and the prudence that arises from -self-interest was not one of his possessions. Leaving all that aside, -he was in love, and the object of his love was in the path of his -present progress.</p> - -<p>He rang for Lermina, his valet, and bathed and dressed himself -with most scrupulous care. It was now half-past eleven. He ordered -<em>déjeuner</em> to be served a quarter of an hour earlier than its usual -time, and was seated at the meal when Lavenne was announced. He told -the servant to show the visitor up, and when Lavenne entered rose from -the table to greet him.</p> - -<p>Lavenne formed a striking contrast to the elegant Rochefort. Lavenne -was a man who, at first sight,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> seemed a young man, and at second -sight, a man of middle age, soberly dressed, of middle height, and -remarkable only for eyes wonderfully bright and luminous. Rochefort, -who did not possess de Sartines’ power of reading men, had still the -gift of deciding at once whether a person pleased him or not. He liked -this man’s manner and appearance and face, and received him in a manner -that at once made the newcomer at home.</p> - -<p>Rochefort had not two manners, one for the rich and one for the poor. -Whilst always rigidly keeping his own place, he would talk familiarly -with anyone, from the king to the beggar at the corner of the street. -But it would go hard with the man who presumed on this fact. Lavenne -knew Rochefort quite well by name and appearance, had ranked him among -the titled larvæ of the Court who were always passing under his eyes, -and was surprised to find, after a few minutes’ talk, what a pleasant -person he was.</p> - -<p>“I have left the hat and cloak, monsieur, with your servant,” said -Lavenne. “My master, the Comte de Sartines, gave me instructions to -bring them with me.</p> - -<p>“Ah, the hat and cloak!” said Rochefort. “I had forgotten them. Thanks. -Will you not be seated? I have just finished <em>déjeuner</em>, and shall be -quite at your disposal when the carriage arrives. I ordered it for -twelve, as I suppose we had better drive to this place, which is in the -Porcheron district. Will you not have a glass of wine?” He poured out a -glass of Beaune, and whilst Lavenne drank it, finished his breakfast, -chatting all the time, but saying nothing at all on the object of -their journey till they were in the carriage and driving to their -destination.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span></p> - -<p>“You expect to find him in, this Monsieur Ferminard?” asked Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur. He is very poor just now, and when in that state he -avoids the streets and cafés.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, ah!” said Rochefort, wondering how this very poor man, who avoided -even the streets, could be of help to the powerful Comtesse Dubarry at -one of the most critical moments of her life. But he said nothing more; -he did not like to appear as though he were trying to draw Lavenne out.</p> - -<p>The Porcheron quarter lay between the Faubourg Montmartre and La Ville -l’Évêque. It was sparsely populated, and here, at a tavern whose sign -represented a hound running down a hare amidst long grass, the carriage -drew up.</p> - -<p>This was the Maison Gambrinus, a house of considerable repute for the -excellence of its wine. Founded in the year 1614 by William Gambrinus, -a Dutchman from Dordrecht, it was famous for three things—the -excellence of its cookery, the goodness of its wine, and the modesty -of its charges. Turgis, who now owned the place, possessed a wife who -had been kitchenmaid at the Hôtel Noailles under the famous Coquellard; -being a pretty girl, she had obtained from him, as a mark of his favour -and as a wedding gift, a recipe for stewing veal, that he reckoned as -one of his chief possessions. This same recipe brought people to the -Maison Gambrinus from all over Paris, so that Turgis did a fair enough -business.</p> - -<p>As the carriage drew up, a big man appeared at the door of the inn; -he was so broad that he nearly filled the doorway, which was by no -means narrow. One might have fancied that the mould for his face had -been cast on that great and jovial day when Nature,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> tired of making -ordinary folk, took thought and said to herself: “Now let us make an -innkeeper.”</p> - -<p>It was an ideal face of its kind—fat, material, smiling—and promising -everything in the way of good cheer and comfort. Yet to-day, to -Lavenne’s surprise, this face, ordinarily so jovial, wore an expression -that sat ill upon it, or rather, one might say, it had lost somewhat -the natural expression that sat so well upon it.</p> - -<p>“Turgis,” said Lavenne, as they followed him into the big room with a -sanded floor, which formed the <em>salle-à-manger</em> and bar combined, “we -have come to see Monsieur Ferminard. Is he in?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu!</em>” cried Turgis, “is he in? Why, Monsieur Lavenne, he -has not been out for a fortnight; he has driven half my customers away, -and his bill is still owing. Three hams, six dozen eggs, thirty-seven -bottles of wine of Anjou, bread, salt, olives; a bill for sixty-five -francs, to say nothing of the money I have lost through him. Before I -take another poet as a guest, I will set light with my own hand to the -Máison Gambrinus. Listen to him!”</p> - -<p>From an adjoining room came the sound of a loud and high-pitched voice, -laughing, talking, bursting out now and then into snatches of song, and -now low-pitched and seemingly engaged in argument. Then, all at once, -came a furious stamping, a cry, and the sound of a table being overset.</p> - -<p>“<em>Pardieu!</em>” cried Rochefort, “he seems busy. What on earth is he -doing?”</p> - -<p>“Doing, monsieur!” replied the host. “Nothing. He is writing a play.”</p> - -<p>“Does he write with his feet, then, this Monsieur Ferminard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“Aye, does he,” replied Turgis, bending to lift a bottle from the floor -and placing it on one of the tables, “and with his tongue and fists and -head. Gascon that he is, he acts all his tragedies as he writes them. -He has been writing a duel since noon, and has smashed, God knows how -much of my furniture. Sixty-five francs he owes me, which will not -be paid till his tragedy is finished; by which time, Heaven help me! -I fear he will have devoured and drunk the contents of my cellar and -destroyed my inn. And, were it not that he is the best fellow going -and once did me a service, I would bundle him out of my place neck and -crop, poems, plays and all.”</p> - -<p>The noise from the adjoining room suddenly ceased, as if the poet -had become aware of the voices of the innkeeper and the new-comers. -The door burst open, and a man in his shirt-sleeves—a short, rather -stout, clean-shaved individual, with a mobile face and bright, piercing -eyes—appeared. He held a pen in his hand.</p> - -<p>“<em>Morbleu!</em>” cried this apparition, in a testy voice, speaking to the -landlord without even a glance at the others. “Have you no thought for -the comfort of your guests? With your chatter, chatter, chatter, you -have spoilt one of the finest of my passages.”</p> - -<p>“And what about my tables?” burst out Turgis, suddenly flying into a -rage, “and my glasses? Four broken this day, and my wainscoting pierced -with the point of your rapier, and my room half wrecked—and you talk -to me of your passages! What about my custom driven away? For one may -not sneeze, it appears to me, without your poems being upset and your -passages spoilt. What about my sixty-five francs?”</p> - -<p>“They shall be paid,” said the poet, taking a minor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> key. “Ah, Monsieur -Lavenne!” His eye had just fallen on Lavenne.</p> - -<p>“Pardon me,” said Lavenne to Rochefort. He went towards the tragedian, -took him by the arm and drew him into the adjoining room. Then he shut -the door.</p> - -<p>Turgis wiped his forehead. “His passages! I wish he would find a -passage to take him to the devil. What may I get for monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“Get me a bottle of that wine for which you are so famous,” said -Rochefort, taking a seat at a table, “and two glasses—that is right. -He seems a strange customer, this Monsieur Ferminard.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, monsieur,” replied Turgis, opening the wine and filling the -glasses, “he would be right enough were he only to stick to his trade.”</p> - -<p>“And what is his trade?”</p> - -<p>“An actor, monsieur; he is a great actor. He belonged to the Théâtre -Molière; but he quarrelled with the director, and the quarrel came to -blows, and Ferminard wounded the director. Yes, monsieur, he would now -be in prison only for Monsieur de Sartines, who took an interest in -him, having seen him act. Ah, monsieur, he was a great actor. But he -was not content to be an actor. Oh, no! What does he do but write a -comedy himself, to beat Molière? And what does he do but get the ear -of the Duc de la Vrillière and his permission to produce this precious -comedy at Versailles, with Court ladies and gentlemen to act in it. -If he had acted himself in it, the thing would have been saved, but -belonging to the Théâtre Molière, he was bound by agreement not to act -elsewhere.</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur, the thing went so badly that he abused the actors and -actresses when they came off<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> the stage, and, as a result, he was caned -by Monsieur de Coigny.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said Rochefort, “I heard something of that; but I was away from -Paris, and I did not hear the details. He abused them. <em>Mordieu!</em> -that’s good.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur. I had the story from his own mouth. He told Madame -de Duras, who was acting as one of his precious shepherdesses, that -her head was as wooden as her legs. As for me, I would have been a -mouse among all that company; but he—he does not care for the King -himself; and so outraged does he feel even still, that could he burn -Versailles down and all it contains he would be happy. He is not the -man to forgive the strokes of Monsieur de Coigny’s cane. Your health, -monsieur! Still the pity is that the fault was not with the actors, but -with the play. It is common sense, besides. I, for instance, am a very -good man at selling that wine you are drinking. But if I were to go to -Anjou and try to make that wine, I would not be good at the business. -Just so! A man may be a very good actor, and yet may not be able to -write a play that another man could act well in.”</p> - -<p>A sudden burst of laughter from the adjoining room cut Turgis short.</p> - -<p>“What is up now, I wonder?” said he.</p> - -<p>“He seems laughing at something that Monsieur Lavenne is telling him,” -said Rochefort, whose interest in the whole affair had suddenly taken -on an extra keenness, and who was deeply puzzled by a business of which -he could find no possible explanation. “Come, refill your glass! You -deserve to drink such good wine since you choose to sell it.”</p> - -<p>The landlord did as he was told without the slightest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> trace of -unwillingness, and they sat talking on indifferent matters till the -door of the next room suddenly opened and Lavenne appeared.</p> - -<p>He took Rochefort outside the inn to the roadway, where the carriage -was still in waiting.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “I have arranged everything with Ferminard. -But it is absolutely necessary that he should go to the Rue de Valois -in such a fashion that no one can recognize him. Will you, therefore, -take your seat in the carriage, and he will join you in a few minutes.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly,” said Rochefort, who had drunk enough wine and on whom the -conversation of the innkeeper had begun to pall. “And here is a louis -to pay the score. He can keep the change.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, monsieur,” said Lavenne. “You will see me no more, for my -part in this business is now over.”</p> - -<p>“Well, then, good-day to you,” said the Comte, “and thank you for your -pleasant company.”</p> - -<p>Lavenne bowed and returned to the inn, and Rochefort, telling his -coachman to wait, got into the carriage. Five minutes passed, and -then ten. He was becoming impatient, when from the inn door emerged -an old man of miserable appearance who blinked at the sun, blinked -at the carriage, and then came towards it and placed his hand on the -door-handle.</p> - -<p>Rochefort, who did not care for the appearance of this person, was on -the point of asking him what the devil he wanted, when he caught a -glimpse of Lavenne at the inn door, nodding to him to indicate that -all was right. Then he grasped the fact that this incredible mass of -decrepitude was Ferminard. He helped the old fellow in, and the driver, -who already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> had his instructions, turned his horses, whipped them up, -and started off in the direction of the Faubourg St. Honoré.</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur Ferminard,” said Rochefort, laughing, “if I had not had -the honour of seeing you when comparatively young, I would not have -known you in your old age.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that is nothing, monsieur,” said Ferminard; “to turn oneself into -an old man is an easy matter. The great difficulty is for an actor to -turn himself into a youth. Has Monsieur ever seen me act?”</p> - -<p>“Often,” said Rochefort, who, in fact, had little care for the theatre, -and had never seen him act, “and I was charmed.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur is very good to say so. As for me, I have never been charmed -by my own acting, though ’twas passable enough; but the fact is, -monsieur, I was not born an actor. I was born a dramatist.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, ho!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, that is how fate treats one. My head is full of my -creations; they seize me, and make me write. Ah! whilst I am writing, -then I can act; if I were impersonating one of my own characters on the -stage, then I could act. But when I have to play the part of some other -man’s creation in character, then I feel a stick.”</p> - -<p>“You have written many plays?”</p> - -<p>“Numerous, monsieur,” said the greatest actor and worst dramatist in -France.</p> - -<p>“I hear you had one staged in Versailles.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu!</em>” said Ferminard. “All France knows that tale. Ah, -<em>dame</em>, when I think of it, I could kick this coach to pieces—I could -eat the world. Well,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> they shall be rewarded. Ferminard will have his -revenge.”</p> - -<p>He laughed and slapped his thigh.</p> - -<p>They had entered the Rue de Pontoise, which led into the Rue de Valois.</p> - -<p>“And now, monsieur,” said Ferminard, “I will forget, if you please, -that I am an actor, and remember that I am an old man.”</p> - -<p>He did, with strange effect. As the carriage turned into the courtyard -of the Hôtel Dubarry, had any spy been watching the antique face of -Ferminard at the window of the coach, he would have sent a report -absolutely confusing to the Choiseul faction. He alighted, leaning on -Rochefort’s arm. In the hall, when they were admitted, Jean Dubarry, -who was waiting and who evidently had been advised by de Sartines -of what to expect, seized upon Ferminard as though he had been a -long-lost treasure, and spirited him away down a corridor, apologizing -to Rochefort, and calling back to him over his shoulder to wait for a -moment until he returned.</p> - -<p>Rochefort, left alone, was turning to look at a stand of arms, supposed -to contain the pikes and swords and spears of vanished Dubarrys slain -in warfare, when a step drew his attention, and turning, he found -himself face to face with Javotte. He had completely forgotten Javotte. -But she had not forgotten him. She had a tray of glasses in her hand, -and as their eyes met she blushed, looked down, and then glanced up -again with a charming smile.</p> - -<p>He had kissed her the night before; but she was only one of the -thousand girls that the light-hearted Rochefort had kissed in passing, -so to speak, and without ulterior intent. The pleasantest thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> in -the world is to kiss a pretty girl, just as one of the pleasantest -things in the world is to draw a rose towards one, inhale its perfume, -and release it unharmed; but very few men have the art of doing the -thing successfully. Rochefort had. Just as some old gentlemen, by sheer -power of personality, can say the most <em>risqué</em> and terrible things -without giving offence, so could Rochefort with women do things and -say things that another man would not have dared. It was the touch of -irresponsibility in his nature that gave him, perhaps, this power.</p> - -<p>It was not the kiss lightly given the night before that made Javotte -blush; it was the presence of Rochefort. Since his rescue of her, he -completely filled her mind.</p> - -<p>“Ah! little one,” said he, “good-morning!”</p> - -<p>“Good-morning, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“And where are you going?”</p> - -<p>“To the room of Madame la Comtesse, though I am no longer in her -service.”</p> - -<p>“No longer in her service?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“And in whose service are you now, <em>petite?</em>”</p> - -<p>“I belong to Mademoiselle Fontrailles, monsieur. I was only temporarily -with Madame la Comtesse; and as her maid, Jacqueline, has returned to -her this morning, and as I seemed to please Mademoiselle Fontrailles, -who is staying here till after the presentation, I entered her service.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, ha!” said Rochefort. “And where does mademoiselle live?”</p> - -<p>“She has apartments in the Rue St. Dominic, monsieur, where she lives -with her nurse.”</p> - -<p>“Her nurse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span>!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, an old Indian woman, who is as black as my shoe.”</p> - -<p>The lively Javotte was proceeding to a vivacious description of her -black sister from Martinique when a step on the stairs checked her; she -vanished with the glasses, and Rochefort, turning, found himself face -to face with Mademoiselle Fontrailles, who had just entered the hall.</p> - -<p>They bowed to one another ceremoniously. It seemed to Rochefort that, -beautiful as she had appeared on the night before, she was even more -beautiful by daylight, here in the deserted hall of the Hôtel Dubarry.</p> - -<p>“Well, mademoiselle,” said he, “and how are things progressing?”</p> - -<p>“Marvellously, monsieur; but do not let us talk here of state secrets.” -She led the way into the little room where they had parted but a few -hours before.</p> - -<p>“The carriage has been arranged for, your coiffeur will, I am sure, -prove a success; he has arrived, and the Vicomte Jean has put him under -lock and key, with a pocketful of louis to play with, and the promise -of an equal amount when his work is done; my poor dress is now being -altered and promises a perfect fit. We are saved, in fact, and thanks -to you.”</p> - -<p>“No, mademoiselle, thanks to luck; for if I had not gone to Choiseul’s -ball I would not have met you.”</p> - -<p>“You mean, you would not have discovered the plot to steal the carriage -and the dress.”</p> - -<p>“But for you the plot would have lain in my mind unrevealed. I have a -horror of Court intrigue. As it is, I have set myself against Choiseul, -and killed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> one of his agents, and thwarted his best hopes; but I count -all that nothing in your service.”</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle Fontrailles gazed at him steadily as he stood there with -this patent declaration of homage on his lips, and all the laughter and -lightness gone from his happy-go-lucky and defiant face.</p> - -<p>She guessed now from his face and manner what was in his mind, and that -the slightest weakening on her part would bring him down on his knee -before her.</p> - -<p>“I thank you, monsieur,” said she. “And now to the question of the -Comtesse de Béarn.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said Rochefort, inwardly cursing the Comtesse de Béarn, “I had -forgotten the Comtesse. And how is she this morning?”</p> - -<p>“She is still very bad.”</p> - -<p>“And to-night?”</p> - -<p>“She will be quite unable to attend at Versailles.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort was about to make a remark when the door leading to the -adjoining room opened, and Madame Dubarry herself appeared, young, -fresh, triumphant and laughing.</p> - -<p>“Did I hear you speaking of the Comtesse de Béarn?” asked she, as she -extended her hand to Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“Yes, madame, and I am grieved to hear that she is still indisposed.”</p> - -<p>“Then, monsieur, you have heard false news. Madame la Comtesse has -nearly recovered, and will be quite well enough to act for me to-night.”</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle Fontrailles smiled, and Rochefort, not knowing what to -make of these contradictory statements, stood glancing from one to the -other of his informers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span></p> - -<p>“Not only that,” continued Madame Dubarry, “but you may tell everyone -the news. That Madame la Comtesse has had a slight accident and has -now perfectly recovered. And now I must dismiss you, dear Monsieur -Rochefort, for I have a world of business before me; but only till -to-night, when we will meet at Versailles. You will be there, will you -not?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Rochefort, “I shall be there to see your triumph—and -Mademoiselle Fontrailles?”</p> - -<p>“I shall not be there,” said the girl, “or only in spirit; but my dress -will be there.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said Rochefort, “even that is something.”</p> - -<p>Then off he went. Light-hearted now and laughing, for it seemed to him -that, though his affair had seemingly not made an inch of progress, all -was well between him and Camille Fontrailles.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE COMTESSE DE BÉARN</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">TO present the mentality of the Comtesse de Béarn one would have -to reconstruct the lady, and rebuild from all sorts of medieval -constituents her mind, person and dress. Feudal times have left us -cities such as Nuremberg and Vittoria standing just as they stood in -the twilight of the Middle Ages, but the people have vanished, only -vaguely to be recalled.</p> - -<p>The Comtesse de Béarn was medieval, and carried the twelfth century -clinging to her coif and mantelet right into the heart of the Paris of -1770. Arrogant, narrow, superstitious and proud as Lucifer, this old -lady, impoverished by years of litigation with the family of Saluce, -inveigled up to Paris by a false statement that her lawsuit was about -to be settled to her advantage, entertained by the Dubarrys and filled -by them with promises and hopes, had agreed to act as introducer to the -Comtesse. She disliked the business, but was prepared to swallow it for -the sake of the lawsuit.</p> - -<p>Choiseul’s note conveyed in the basket of flowers had acted with -withering effect. It was written by a master mind that understood -finely the mind it was addressing, and its one object was to convey the -sentence: “You have been tricked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>She saw the truth at once; she had been fetched up to Paris to act as -a servant in the Dubarrys’ interests; she had been outwitted, played -with. In an instant, twenty obscure and dubious happenings fell into -their proper place, and she saw in a flash not only the deception but -the fact that when she was done with she would be cast aside like a -sucked orange; returned to her castle on the banks of the Meuse.</p> - -<p>The unholy anger that filled the old lady’s mind might have led her at -once to open revolt had she not possessed a lively sense of the power -of the Dubarrys, and an instinctive fear of the Vicomte Jean. To revolt -and say: “I will take no part in the presentation,” would have led to a -pitched battle, in which she felt she would be worsted. She was too old -and friendless to fight all these young, vigorous people who were on -their own ground. But she would not present the woman who had tricked -her at the Court of Versailles.</p> - -<p>She boiled a pot of chocolate, and poured the contents over her foot -and leg. The physical agony was nothing to the satisfaction of her -mind. Madame Dubarry’s face when she saw the wound was more soothing -than all the cold cream that Noirmont, the Dubarrys’ doctor, applied -to the scald; and this morning, stretched on her back, with her leg -swathed in cotton and the pain eased, she revelled in the thought of -her enemy’s discomfiture. She felt no fear; they could not kill her; -they could not turn her out of the house; she was an honoured guest, -and she lay waiting for the distraction and the wailing and tears of -the Dubarry woman, and the storming of the Vicomte Jean.</p> - -<p>Instead of these came, at twelve o’clock or thereabouts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> Noirmont, -the physician, accompanied by Chon Dubarry, who had just arrived from -Luciennes. The charming Chon seemed in the best spirits, and was full -of solicitation and pity for her “dear Comtesse.”</p> - -<p>Noirmont examined the leg, declared that his treatment had produced a -decidedly beneficial effect, and, without a word as to when the patient -might expect to be able to walk again, bowed himself out, leaving Chon -and the Comtesse together.</p> - -<p>“You see, my dear lady,” said the old woman, “how fallible we all are -to accident. But for that unlucky pot of chocolate, I would now be -dressed, and ready to pay my <em>devoirs</em> to Madame la Comtesse; as it is, -if I am able to leave my bed in a week’s time I will be fortunate, and -even then I will, without doubt, have to be carried from this house to -my carriage.”</p> - -<p>“Madame,” said Chon devoutly, “we are all in the hands of Providence, -whose decrees are inscrutable. Let us, then, bear our troubles with a -spirit, and hope for the best.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu!</em>” cried the old woman, irritated at the extraordinary -cheerfulness of the other, and feeling instinctively that some new move -of the accursed Dubarrys was in progress, “it is easy for the whole in -body and limb to dictate cheerfulness to the afflicted. Here am I laid -up, and my affairs needing my attention in the country; but I think -less of them than of the Court to-night, which I am unable to attend, -and of the presentation which I am debarred from taking my part in. Not -on my own account, for I have long given up the vanities of the world, -but on account of Madame la Comtesse Dubarry.”</p> - -<p>“Truly, there seems a fate in it,” said Chon, with great composure -and cheerfulness. “Everything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> seemed going on so happily for your -interests and ours. Well, it cannot be helped; there is no use in -grumbling. The great thing now, dear Madame de Béarn, is your health, -which is, after all, more important to you than money or success in -lawsuits. Can I order you anything that you may require?”</p> - -<p>The only thing Madame de Béarn could have wished for at the moment was -Madame Dubarry’s head on a charger, but she did not put her desire in -words. She lay watching with her bright old eyes whilst Chon, with a -curtsey, turned and left the room. Then she lay thinking.</p> - -<p>She was beaten. The Dubarrys had in some way found a method of evading -defeat. Unfortunate Comtesse! When she had put herself to all this -pain and discomfort she little knew that she was setting herself, not -against the Dubarrys alone, but against de Sartines, and all the wit, -ingenuity and genius of the Hôtel de Sartines. Moss-grown in her old -château by the Meuse, she knew nothing of Paris, its trickery and its -artifice. She had all this yet to learn.</p> - -<p>All that she knew now was the fact that the plans of her enemies were -prospering, and the mad desire to thwart them would have given her -energy and fortitude enough to leave her bed, and hobble from the -house, had she not known quite well that such a thing was impossible. -The Dubarrys would not let her go.</p> - -<p>Then a plan occurred to her. She rang the bell which had been placed on -the table beside her, and when the maid entered, ordered her to fetch -at once Madame Turgis, the old lady from her province who had sent her -the basket of flowers.</p> - -<p>“She lives in the Rue Petit Picpus, No. 10,” said she. “And ask her to -come at once, for I feel worse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>The maid left the room, promising to comply with the order. Five -minutes passed, and then came a knock at the door, which opened, -disclosing the Vicomte Jean. He was all smiles and apologies and -affability. Did the Comtesse feel worse? Should they send again for -Noirmont? The maid had gone to fetch Madame Turgis, who would be here -no doubt immediately. Would not Madame la Comtesse take some extra -nourishment? Some soup?</p> - -<p>Then he retired as gracefully as he had entered, and the Comtesse de -Béarn waited. At one o’clock the maid came back. Madame Turgis was from -home, but the message had been left, asking her to call at once on her -return.</p> - -<p>“Ah, <em>mon Dieu, mon Dieu!</em>” cried the old woman recognizing at once -that she had been tricked again, and that the maid had doubtless never -left the house, seeing also her great mistake in not having used -bribery. “And here am I lying in pain, and perhaps before she comes I -may be gone, and my dying bequests will never be known. But wait.”</p> - -<p>She took something from under her pillow. It was a handkerchief tightly -rolled up. She unrolled the handkerchief carefully. There were half a -dozen gold coins in it—<em>louis d’or</em>, stamped with the stately profile -of the fourteenth Louis. It was part of the hoard which she kept at the -Château de Béarn, on which she had drawn for travelling contingencies. -Taking a louis, and folding up the rest, she held it out between finger -and thumb.</p> - -<p>“For you,” said she.</p> - -<p>The maid advanced to take the coin.</p> - -<p>“When Madame Turgis arrives,” finished the old woman, with a snap, -withdrawing the coin and hiding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> her hand under the bed-clothes. “So -go now, like a good girl, or find some messenger to go for you. Tell -Madame Turgis that the Comtesse de Béarn has need for her at once. Then -the louis will be yours to do what you like with, eh? ’Tis not often -a louis is earned so cheap. You’ll have a young man of your own, and -nothing holds ’em like a bit of fine dress; and I’ll look among my -things and see if I can’t find you a bit of lace, or a trinket to put -on top of the louis. And—put your pretty ear down to me—<em>don’t let -anyone know I’ve sent to Madame Turgis. It’s a secret between us about -some property in the country.</em> You understand me?”</p> - -<p>Jehanneton, the maid, assented, and left the room, nodding her head, to -acquaint immediately the powers below of this attempt at bribery and -corruption.</p> - -<p>At five o’clock a new maid arrived with a tray containing soup and -minced chicken.</p> - -<p>“What has become of Jehanneton?” asked the old woman.</p> - -<p>“Jehanneton went out, and has not yet come back,” replied the other. “I -do not know where she has gone to. Does Madame feel better?”</p> - -<p>The invalid drank her soup and ate her chicken. She had been duped -again, and she knew it. Her only consolation was the fact that she had -not parted with the louis.</p> - -<p>At six she rang for a light. The maid who answered the summons not only -brought a lamp, but put a lighted taper to all the candles about the -dressing-table.</p> - -<p>“<em>Ma foi!</em>” cried the Comtesse. “I did not tell you to light those.”</p> - -<p>“It is by my mistress’s orders,” replied the maid,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> lighting, as she -spoke, several more candles that stood on the bureau, till the room had -almost the appearance of a <em>chapelle ardente</em>—an appearance that was -helped out by the corpse-like figure on the bed. Then the maid went -out.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE ARTIST</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">FIVE minutes later a knock came to the door, and a man entered. It was -Ferminard. He was carrying the stiff brocade dress of Madame de Béarn -over his left arm. In his right hand he carried a wig-block, on which -was a wig such as then was worn by the elderly women of the Court.</p> - -<p>The thing carried by Ferminard was less a wig than a structure of hair, -a prefiguration of those towers and bastions with which the ladies of -the sixteenth Louis’ reign adorned their heads. Hideous bastilles, -which one would fancy did not require arming with guns to frighten Love -from making any attack on the wearers.</p> - -<p>Under his right arm Ferminard also carried a rolled-up parcel. He made -a bow to the occupant of the bed as he entered, and then advanced -straight to the dressing-table, where he deposited the wig-block and -the parcel, whilst the door closed, drawn to by someone in the corridor -outside.</p> - -<p>“My hair! My dress! And, <em>mon Dieu!</em> A man in the room with me!” cried -the Comtesse, seizing the bell on the table beside her and ringing it. -“And the door shut! Monsieur, open that door, or I will cry for help.”</p> - -<p>“Madame,” said Ferminard, placing the dress on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span> a chair, “we are both -of an age. Calm yourself, and regard me as though I were not here. -Besides, I am not a man; I am an artist, and, so far from molesting -you, I have come to pay you the greatest compliment in my power by -producing your portrait.”</p> - -<p>He drew a chair to the dressing-table, and proceeded to unroll the -bundle, which contained bottles of pigment, some brushes and a host -of other materials. The old woman on the bed lay watching him like -a mesmerized fowl. Her portrait, at her time of life, and in her -condition! What trick was this of the Dubarrys? She was soon to learn.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE PRESENTATION</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE Versailles of to-day stands alone in desolation among all -the other buildings left to us by the past. That vast courtyard -through whose gates the dusty and travel-stained <em>berlines</em> of the -ambassadors used to pass; those thousand windows, vacant and cleaned -by the municipality; those fountains and terraces, and statues and -vistas—across all these lies written the word which is at once their -motto and explanation: <em>Fuimus</em>—we have been.</p> - -<p>It is the palace of echoes.</p> - -<p>But it is more than this. It is France herself. Not the France of -to-day—banker and bourgeois-ridden; nor the France of the Second -Empire—vulgar and painted; nor the Napoleonic France—half a brothel, -half a barrack. Across all these and the fumes of the Revolution, -Versailles calls to us: “I am France. Before I was built I was born -in the dreams of the Gallic people. I am the concretion in stone of -all the opulence and splendour and licence of mind which found a -focus in the reign of Le Roi Soleil; the Hôtel St. Pol and the Logis -d’Angoulême foreshadowed me, and Chambord and all those châteaux that -mirror themselves in the Loire. I am the wealth of Jacques Cœur, -the bravery of Richelieu and Turenne, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> laughter of Rabelais, the -songs of Villon, the beauty of Marion de l’Orme, the licentiousness of -Montpensier, the arrogance of Fouquet. Of all that splendour I remain, -an echo and a dream.”</p> - -<p>But to-night, in the year of our Lord 1770, Versailles, living and -splendid, a galaxy of lights that might have been seen from leagues -away, the huge park filled with the sound of the wind in the trees and -the waters of the fountains, the great courtyard ablaze with lamps -and torches, and coloured with the uniforms of the Guards and the -Swiss—to-night Versailles was drawing towards herself the whole world -in the form of the ambassadors of Europe, the whole Court of France, -and a majority of the population of Paris.</p> - -<p>The Place d’Armes was thronged, and the Paris road, a league from the -gates; bourgeois and beggar, the hungry and well-fed, the maimed, -the halt and the blind, apprentice and shop-girl—all were there, a -seething mass attracted to the festivity as moths are attracted by a -lamp, and all filled with one idea: the Dubarry.</p> - -<p>The news of the friction at Court had gone amongst the people. It -was said that the Dubarry had been forbidden at the last moment to -attend; that the presentation had been cancelled, that she was ill, -that the Vicomte Jean had insulted M. le Duc de Choiseul, that the -arrival of the Dauphiness had been hurried, and that she was already at -Versailles, and that she had refused to see the favourite. All of which -statements, and a hundred others more wild and improbable, were bandied -about during the glorious excitement to be got by watching the blazing -windows of the palace, the uniformed figures of the Guards, and the -steady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span> stream of carriages coming from the direction of Paris.</p> - -<p>Rochefort arrived at nine o’clock—that is to say, an hour before the -time of the ceremony; his carriage immediately followed that of the -Duc de Richelieu. The entrance-hall was crowded, and the Escalier des -Ambassadeurs thronged. This great staircase, now removed, led by a -broad, unbalustraded flight of eleven marble steps to a landing where, -beneath the bust of Louis XV., a fountain played, gushing its waters -into a broad basin supported by tritons, dolphins and sea-nymphs; from -here a balustraded staircase swept up to right and left, and here, -just by the fountain, Rochefort found himself cheek by jowl with de -Sartines, who had arrived just before M. de Richelieu.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said de Sartines, recognizing the other, “and when did you -arrive?”</p> - -<p>“Why, it seems to me an hour ago,” replied the other, “judging by -the time I have been getting thus far; to be more precise, I came -immediately after M. de Richelieu. And how are your dear thieves and -people getting on? I should imagine they are mostly at Versailles -to-night, to judge by the crowds on the Paris road.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” replied de Sartines, “I daresay there are enough of them left in -Paris to keep my agents busy. And how did you like Lavenne?”</p> - -<p>“He was charming. If all your thief-catchers were such perfect -gentlemen, I would pray God to turn a few of our gentlemen into -thief-catchers. But he was not so charming as your dramatist, Monsieur -Ferminard, the gentleman who writes plays with his feet, it seems to -me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>Sartines nudged him to keep silence. They had reached the corridor -leading to the Hall of Mirrors, and here the Minister of Police drew -his companion into an alcove.</p> - -<p>“Do not mention the name Ferminard here; the walls have ears and -the statues have tongues. Forget it, my dear Rochefort. Remember M. -d’Ombreval’s maxim: ‘Forget so that you may not be forgotten.’”</p> - -<p>“In other words, that you may not be put in the Bastille?”</p> - -<p>“Precisely.”</p> - -<p>“Then I will forget the name Ferminard. But, before Heaven, I will -never be able to forget the person. He amused me vastly. And now, my -dear Sartines, without mentioning names, how are things going?”</p> - -<p>“What things?”</p> - -<p>“Why, the presentation.”</p> - -<p>“Admirably.”</p> - -<p>“Then the lady with the scalded leg——”</p> - -<p>“Hush!”</p> - -<p>“There is no one near, and, besides, I was only inquiring after her -health.”</p> - -<p>“Well, her health is still bad.”</p> - -<p>“Will she be here to-night?”</p> - -<p>“You will see. Ask me no more about her. Besides, I have something else -to talk of. Your man, whom you put out of action the night before last, -has been found.”</p> - -<p>“The man I killed?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Rochefort, laughing, “I don’t envy the finder—that is to -say, if he has any sense of beauty.”</p> - -<p>“Rochefort,” said de Sartines, “it would not trouble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> me a <em>dernier</em> -were forty like him found every morning in the streets of Paris; but, -in this case, you have to be on your guard, for he was found, not by -one of my agents, but by one of Choiseul’s. The news came to me through -Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said Rochefort, becoming serious. “Is that so?”</p> - -<p>“With a request that I should investigate the matter. If that were all -it would be nothing; the danger to you is that Choiseul, no doubt, has -started investigating the matter for himself.”</p> - -<p>Sartines, having delivered himself of this warning, turned to the Comte -d’Egmont, who was passing, and walked off with him, leaving Rochefort -to digest his words.</p> - -<p>Rochefort for a moment was depressed; he did not like the idea of this -dead man turning up, arm-in-arm, so to speak, with Choiseul. He had no -remorse at all about the ruffian, but he had a lively feeling that, -should Choiseul discover the truth, he would avenge the death of this -villain, deserved even though it was. Then he put the matter from his -mind, and passed with the throng through the Hall of Mirrors towards -the <em>salon</em>, where the presentations took place.</p> - -<p>On the way he passed Camus, who, with his wife, was speaking to the -Comte d’Harcourt. Madame Camus was rather plain, older than her -husband, and afflicted with a slight limp—an impediment in her walk, -to quote M. de Richelieu. Camus’ marriage with this woman was a -mystery. She was the third daughter of the Comte de Grigny, who owned a -château in Touraine, and little else, if we except numerous debts. She -was plain, without dowry, and had a limp. It may have been the comment -of Froissart on women<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> so affected, or that her plainness appealed to -him in some curious way; the fact remained that Camus had married her, -and—so people said—was heartily sick of his bargain.</p> - -<p>The Hall of Mirrors gave one eyes at the back of one’s head; and -Camus, though his back was half-turned to Rochefort, saw his mirrored -reflection approach and pass; but he did not take the slightest notice -of his enemy, continuing his conversation, whilst Rochefort passed on -towards the wide-open door of the Salon of Presentations.</p> - -<p>Rochefort was one of those implacable men who never apologize, even -if they are in the wrong. Camus had been his friend, or, at least, a -very close acquaintance, and he had struck Camus in the face. If Camus -did not choose to wipe out the insult it was no affair of Rochefort’s. -He was ready to fight. He was not angry now with Camus; his attitude -of mind was entirely one of contempt, and he passed on haughtily to -the Hall of Presentations, where he soon found enough to distract his -attention from personal matters.</p> - -<p>The Hall of Presentations—vast, lit by a thousand lights—gave to the -eye a picture of magnificence and splendour sufficient to quell even -the most daring imagination. The Escalier des Ambassadeurs had been -thronged, the corridors and the Hall of Mirrors crowded; but here, so -wide was the floor, so lofty the painted ceiling, that the idea “crowd” -vanished, or at least became subordinated to the idea of magnificence. -One would not dream of associating the word “solemnity” with the -word “butterfly”; yet, could one see the congregation of a million -butterflies, variegated and gorgeous, drawn from all quarters of the -earth towards one great festival, the word “solemnity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span>” on the lips of -the gazer might not be out of place.</p> - -<p>So, to-night, at Versailles, all these butterflies of the social world -of France—coloured, jewelled, beautiful—filling the vast Salon of -Presentations with a moving picture, brilliant as a painting by Diaz, -all these men and women, individually insignificant, produced by their -setting and congregation that effect of solemnity which Versailles -alone could produce from the frivolous.</p> - -<p>That was, in fact, the calculated effect of Versailles; to give the -<em>fainéant</em> the value of the strenuous, the trivial the virtue of the -vital; to give great echoes to the sound of a name, to raise the usher -on the shoulders of the Suisse, the grand master of the ceremonies on -the shoulders of the usher, the noble on the shoulders of the grand -master of the ceremonies, and the King on the shoulders of the noble. -A towering structure, as absurd, when viewed philosophically, as a -pyramid of satin-breeched monkeys, but beautiful, gorgeous, solemn -under the alchemy of Versailles.</p> - -<p>The great clock of the Hall of Presentations pointed to ten minutes to -ten. The King had not appeared yet, nor would he do so till the stroke -of the hour.</p> - -<p>The presentation was fixed for ten. Rochefort knew everybody, and the -man who knows everybody knows nobody. That was Rochefort’s position -at the Court of Versailles; he belonged to no faction, and so had no -especial enemies—or friends. He did not fear enemies, nor did he -want friends. Outside the Court, in Paris, he had several trusty ones -who would have let themselves be cut in pieces for him; they were -sufficient for him, for it was a maxim of his life that out of all -the people a man knows, he will be lucky<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> if he numbers two who are -disinterested. He did not invent this maxim. Experience had taught it -to him.</p> - -<p>He passed now from group to group, nodding to this person and talking -to that; and everywhere he found an air of inattention, an atmosphere -of restlessness, such as may be noticed among people who are awaiting -some momentous decision.</p> - -<p>They were, in fact, awaiting the decision of Fate as to the -presentation of the Dubarry. Among the majority of the courtiers -nothing was definitely known, but a great deal was suspected. Rumours -had gone about that it was now absolutely certain that the presentation -would not take place, and all these rumours had come, funnily enough, -not from the Choiseuls, but from the Vicomte Jean. The Choiseul -faction, or rather the head centre of it, said nothing; for them the -thing was assured. They had robbed the Comtesse, not only of her dress, -her coiffeur and her carriage, but of her sponsor.</p> - -<p>Camus, who had stolen the carriage, had followed Rochefort into the -Hall of Presentations, and was now speaking to Coigny, Choiseul’s -right-hand man. Coigny, who when he saw Camus had experienced a shock -of surprise at seeing him so early, interrupted him.</p> - -<p>“The carriage?”</p> - -<p>“It is quite safe,” replied Camus. “The deed is accomplished.”</p> - -<p>“But how are you here so soon?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>ma foi!</em>” said Camus, “am I a tortoise? Having placed the thing -in the coach-house of a well-trusted friend, I went home, dressed, and -came on here.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, but suppose this well-trusted friend of yours<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> were to betray you -at the last moment, harness his horses to the precious carriage, and -drive it to the Rue de Valois?”</p> - -<p>Camus laughed. “Can you drive a carriage without wheels? It took -seventeen minutes only to remove the wheels and make firewood of -them with a sharp axe, to knock the windows to pieces, strip out the -linings, and rip to pieces the cushions. If the Dubarry drives to -Versailles in that carriage—well, my friend, all I can say is, the -vehicle will match her reputation.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks!” said Coigny. “You have worked well, and you have Choiseul’s -thanks.” He moved away, drawn by the sight of another of his -confederates who had just appeared.</p> - -<p>It was the Marquis Monpavon, twenty years of age, cool, insolent, a -bully and scamp of the first water, with a smooth, puerile, egg-shaped -face that made respectable fingers itch to smack it.</p> - -<p>“The dressmaker?” said Coigny.</p> - -<p>“She was charming,” replied Monpavon. “I have quite lost my heart to -her. I have made an arrangement to meet her to-morrow evening at the -corner of the Rue Picpus.”</p> - -<p>“But the dress?”</p> - -<p>“What dress?”</p> - -<p>“The Dubarry’s! Good God! You did not forget about the dress?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Monpavon. “I did not forget about the dress. The next -time you see that dress will be on a mermaid in the Morgue. It is now -in the Seine. What’s more, it is in a sack, which also encloses a few -stones.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks, Monpavon. I will tell Choiseul.” He hurried away, attracted -by another new-comer. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> time it was Monsieur d’Estouteville, an -exquisite, who seemed to have no bones, so indolently did he carry -himself.</p> - -<p>“The coiffeur?” asked Coigny, in a low voice, as he ranged alongside of -this person. “What have you done with him?”</p> - -<p>“He is safe,” replied d’Estouteville.</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>“But, heavens! Did you not undertake to have him guarded? Yet you do -not know where he is?”</p> - -<p>“I only know that he is in Paris somewhere. My dear Coigny, I could -have given him no better guardian than the guardian he has chosen for -himself—drink.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you made him drunk!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. It was a happy accident. It was this way. I had him brought to -my house on an urgent summons. He was shown into a room where some wine -was set out, quite by accident, and when I came to interview him with a -purse full of gold for his seduction, I found he had been at the wine. -He was talkative and flushed. Now, said I to myself, why should I pay -five thousand francs for what I can obtain for a bottle of wine or two? -So I ordered up some Rousillon, and made him drunk.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!”</p> - -<p>“He quite forgot that he was a hairdresser at the end of the first -bottle; before he had finished the second, he grew quarrelsome, and -would have drawn his sword.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">A</a> Then he fell asleep, and my servants -took him and laid him out by the wall that borders the Cemetery of the -Innocents. It was then half-past six -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span> o’clock. No man, not even his Majesty’s physician, could -turn him into a hairdresser again before to-morrow morning. So, you -see, by a stroke of luck I saved five thousand francs, and avoided the -implication in this affair that a bribe given to a barber might have -occasioned all of us.”</p> - -<p>“Good!” said Coigny. He knew quite well that the apparently boneless -d’Estouteville was one of the elect of chicanery, was as good a -swordsman almost as Beauregard, and could outslang a fish-fag on the -Petit Pont were he called to the test; but he had not expected such -a brilliant piece of work as this. “Good. I will tell Choiseul that -story. By the way, you are expected in his private apartments after -this affair is over. You will not find him ungenerous, I think. Tell -Monpavon and the others that they are expected also.”</p> - -<p>He walked away to where the Duc de Choiseul was standing, talking -to some gentleman. It was now after ten, and the King had not yet -appeared, though the hour for the presentation had arrived. He drew the -Minister aside, and informed him of the reports he had just received -from d’Estouteville, Monpavon and Camus; and Choiseul was in the act -of congratulating him when the whole brilliant assemblage turned as if -touched by a magician’s wand; conversation died away, and silence fell -upon the Chamber of Presentations.</p> - -<p>The King had entered by the door leading from his apartments. He -wore the Order of the Golden Fleece. Glancing from right to left, he -advanced, followed by his suite, till, seeing Choiseul, he paused -whilst the Minister advanced, bowing before him.</p> - -<p>Choiseul saw that his Majesty was in a temper.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> He knew quite well that -the King had made his appearance thus late, not because of laziness or -indifference, but simply because he had been waiting the arrival of -Madame Dubarry. The King, in fact, had been kept informed of all the -guests who had arrived. Ten o’clock was the hour for the presentation, -and now at a quarter past ten, his Majesty, never patient of delay, had -left his apartments to seek the truth for himself.</p> - -<p>“The Comtesse is late, Choiseul,” said the King.</p> - -<p>“The journey from Paris is a long one, Sire,” replied the Minister, -“and some delay might have occurred on the way.”</p> - -<p>“Or some accident,” said the King. “Well, Choiseul, should some -accident have happened to the poor Comtesse upon the road, we shall -inquire into the cause of it, and I shall place the matter in your -hands to find out and to punish, if necessary. But should the accident -have happened in Paris, our Minister of Police will take the matter -in his hands. Ah, there is de Sartines. Sartines, it seems that the -Comtesse is late.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Sire,” replied the Minister of Police. “The carriage may have -been delayed by the crowds that throng the Paris roads. But she will -arrive in safety, if I am not much mistaken, before the half-hour has -struck.”</p> - -<p>Choiseul smiled inwardly, and those members of the Choiseul faction who -were within earshot of this conversation glanced at one another. The -half-hour struck, and Choiseul, freed from his Majesty, who had passed -on, turned to de Sartines.</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur,” said Choiseul, “it seems that the clock has declared -you a false prophet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” replied de Sartines, looking at his watch, “the clock of -the Chamber of Presentations, as you ought very well to know, is always -kept five minutes in advance of the hour, by an order given by his -late Majesty to Noirmont, the keeper of the clocks of the Palace of -Versailles. It is now twenty-four and a half minutes past ten. Ah! what -is this?”</p> - -<p>A hush had fallen on the assembly; around the door leading to the -corridor of entrance the people had drawn back as the waves of the Red -Sea drew back before the rod of Moses.</p> - -<p>The usher had appeared. He stood rigid as a statue, his profile to the -room, then turning and fronting the great assembly and the lake of -parquet floor where his Majesty stood in sudden and splendid isolation, -he grounded the butt of his wand, and announced to the grand master of -the ceremonies:</p> - -<p>“The Comtesse Dubarry. The Comtesse de Béarn.”</p> - -<p>Never had Madame Dubarry looked more beautiful than now, as she -advanced, led by this lady of the old <em>régime</em>—stiff, as though -awakened from some tomb of the past; proud, as though she carried with -her the memory of the Austrian; remote from the present day as the wars -of the Fronde and the beauty of Madame de Chevreuse. It was the youth -and age of France; and de Sartines, gazing at Madame de Béarn as one -gazes at a great actor, murmured to Himself:</p> - -<p>“What a masterpiece!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE REWARD</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE presentation was over. The Choiseuls were defeated. Madame Dubarry -was passing hither and thither, speaking to this one and that, and -poisoning her enemies with her sweetest smiles. The King was delighted; -and Choiseul, devouring his own heart, was kissing the favourite’s -hand. Smiles, smiles everywhere, and poisonous hatred so wonderfully -masked that the washerwoman to the Duc d’Aiguillon might have thought -herself the best-loved woman in France.</p> - -<p>And Madame de Béarn? Madame de Béarn had vanished. Sartines had -enveloped her in a cloud, and escorted her to her carriage; she had -injured her leg that day, and required rest; she had braved pain and -discomfort to obey the wish of his Majesty.</p> - -<p>The Dubarry had triumphed, and they were paying their court to her. -Rochefort, who had been following the whole proceedings of the evening -with an interest which he had rarely experienced before in his life, -approached de Sartines, who had just returned from escorting Madame -de Béarn to her carriage; with that lightness of heart with which men -sometimes approach their fate, he drew the Minister of Police a bit to -one side.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span></p> - -<p>“And Ferminard?” said he.</p> - -<p>“Pardon me,” said de Sartines, “I do not understand your meaning. What -about Ferminard?”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said Rochefort, laughing, “I was only intending to compliment you -on having discovered so consummate an actor.”</p> - -<p>The other said nothing for a moment. Then he said, speaking slowly and -in a voice so low that it was only just audible to his companion:</p> - -<p>“Rochefort, by accident you have been drawn into a little conspiracy of -the Court; by luck you are able to escape from it if you choose to hold -your tongue for ever on what you have seen and heard. You imagine that -Ferminard came here to-night and laid his genius at the feet of Madame -la Comtesse by acting for her the part of Madame de Béarn. All I can -say is, imagine what you please, but say nothing; for, mark you, should -anything of this be spoken of by you, friend though I am to you, my -hand would fall automatically on you, and the future of M. de Rochefort -would be four blank walls.”</p> - -<p>“You threaten?” said Rochefort haughtily.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, I never threaten; I only advise. You have acted well in this -affair; act still better by forgetting it all. And now that it is over, -I am deputed to hand you your reward.”</p> - -<p>“My reward!”</p> - -<p>Sartines took a little note from his pocket and handed it to Rochefort, -who opened it and read:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“You will not receive this until and unless all is successful. In -that case I wish to thank you both in my own name and that of the -dear Comtesse. The presentation will be over by eleven, at which -time this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> note will be handed to you. Should you care to -receive my thanks, you can reach Paris by midnight. I live at No. -9, Rue St. Dominic, and my door will be opened to you should you -knock to receive my thanks.</p> - -<p class="right"> -“<span class="smcap">Camille Fontrailles.</span>” -</p></div> - -<p>Rochefort stood for a moment with this note in his hand. She had been -thinking of him; she had guessed his feelings towards her; and she in -her turn loved him!</p> - -<p>He glanced at the clock. It pointed to half-past eleven. A swift horse -would take him in less than an hour to Paris. He turned to the door.</p> - -<p>“Where are you going?” asked Sartines.</p> - -<p>“To Paris, monsieur,” replied Rochefort, with a bow.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE ORDER OF ARREST</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">AT a quarter past eleven, that is to say, a quarter of an hour before -Rochefort received the note from Mademoiselle Fontrailles, Choiseul, -who had kissed the hand of the Dubarry, congratulated her on her dress, -compared her to a rose in an epigram that had the appearance of being -absolutely new, and watched her vanishing with his Majesty triumphantly -towards the apartments lately occupied by the Princess Adélaïde, and -now occupied by the favourite—at a quarter past eleven, Choiseul, -furious under his mask of calm, turned towards his own apartments.</p> - -<p>The fixed smile on his face never altered as he bowed to right and -left, and as he passed along through the crowd several members of the -assemblage detached themselves from the mass and fell into his train.</p> - -<p>Choiseul’s apartments in the Palace of Versailles were even more -sumptuous than those relegated to the use of the Dubarry. He passed -from the corridor to the <em>salon</em>, which he used for the private -reception of ambassadors, and all that host of people, illustrious and -obscure, which it was the duty of the Minister to receive, in the name -of France.</p> - -<p>This <em>salon</em> was upholstered in amber satin and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> white and gold, with -a ceiling of yellow roses and joyful cupids. Ablaze with lights, as -now, the place seemed like a great cell, the most gorgeous and the most -brilliantly lit in that great honeycomb, Versailles.</p> - -<p>Choiseul sat down at a table and dashed off a letter which he -addressed, sealed, and sent by a servant to M. de Beautrellis, captain -of the Gardes, for delivery. Then he turned to Coigny who had followed -him.</p> - -<p>“You told the others to come here to-night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur; they are even now waiting outside the door.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we will have them in. Coigny, how has this happened?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, monsieur, unless it was the devil. Everything was -secure, everything was assured. Madame de Béarn was out of action, and -you know what other measures we took. Yet at the last moment we are -overthrown.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Choiseul, “it only remains for us to find out the secret -of our reverse, and the name of the person who has upset our plans. -Call in the others.”</p> - -<p>Coigny went to the side door giving entrance to the apartments, opened -it, and ushered in a number of gentlemen who had been standing outside. -First came Camus, the chief of the executive of the broken-down -conspiracy; after him Monpavon, cool, smug and impudent as ever, and -after him, d’Estouteville, a trifle flushed; after these, the others -who had helped in one way or the other in the great fiasco, as Monpavon -had already named the business. Seven gentlemen in all entered to -receive Choiseul’s felicitations on their failure to outwit a woman, -and Choiseul’s tongue in a matter of this sort was sure.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span></p> - -<p>“Ah, Monsieur Camus!” said he. “Good evening. Good evening, Monsieur -Monpavon; Monsieur d’Estouteville, good evening. Ah! I see Monsieur -d’Est, Monsieur Beaupré, Monsieur Duras—well, gentlemen, we have not -succeeded in lending as much colour to his Majesty’s presentation -to-night as I might have wished. We have not been very brilliant, -gentlemen. Monsieur Monpavon, I believe you have a very small opinion -of women. Their value, of course, viewed philosophically, is an -academic question; but viewed practically—well, viewed practically, -the brains of those women you despise, Monsieur Monpavon, have -a certain value, though you may not imagine it. Yes, Monsieur -d’Estouteville, the brain of a woman has proved itself a better article -to-night than all the brains in Versailles. Monsieur Camus, what -explanation have you to offer?”</p> - -<p>He expected to see Camus discomfited, but the dark, pitted face of the -Count showed nothing of his feelings.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Camus, “we have been betrayed.”</p> - -<p>“That is very evident,” said Choiseul. “<em>Mon Dieu</em>, Monsieur Camus, -what next will you come here to tell me? That the sun does not shine at -night?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Camus, “I have not yet finished. I know the name of -the man who has betrayed us.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, you know his name!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“And this man?”</p> - -<p>“It is the Comte de Rochefort.”</p> - -<p>“Rochefort!”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, it is Rochefort, and no other. He alone knew of our plan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Who told him?”</p> - -<p>“I did, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“You told him?”</p> - -<p>“He was my friend. I reckoned him a man of honour. I swore him to -secrecy.” As he told this lie his hand went to his pocket and produced -a piece of paper. “And entrusted him with the full details of the -business in hand. He refused to assist, we quarrelled. It was just -after we left your ball last night, and we parted in the Rue de -Chevilly.</p> - -<p>“I turned and walked slowly away, intending to return to the Hôtel de -Choiseul and inform you of the matter. Then I altered my mind, as the -idea occurred to me of calling on my friend, the Marquis de Soyecourt, -and I did not want to trouble you at that late hour, engaged as you -were with the duties of hospitality. I came down the street leading -past the Bénédictines de la Ville l’Évêque, and sought the side way to -the Hôtel de Soyecourt that runs between the wall of the Bénédictines -and the wall of the cloister of the Madeleine, forgetting that this -side way is closed by a barrier at night. Before I had reached it a man -came out hurriedly. It was M. Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“He was carrying his sword naked in his hand and wiping it upon a piece -of paper; he cast the paper away, and, sheathing his sword, walked off -hurriedly in the direction of the river. He did not see me, as I had -taken shelter in an alcove. I picked the piece of paper up; then I -glanced down the passage to the Hôtel de Soyecourt, and there, lying by -the barricade, was a man. He was dead, still warm, and he had died from -a sword-thrust through the heart. I thought in him I recognized one -of our agents. I walked away, and in the Rue de la Madeleine I took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> -counsel with myself, went home, and sent a servant to apprise your -major-domo of the occurrence. To-day I have been so busy ever since six -in the morning that I had no time to trouble in the matter. But those -are the facts, and here is the piece of paper which I picked up. And -see, here are the blood marks.”</p> - -<p>Choiseul took the page of the <em>ballade</em> between finger and thumb; the -marks were plain and bore out Camus’ statement.</p> - -<p>It did not matter to him two buttons whether Camus’ statement were true -or false, as long as his statement about the betrayal was true, and -he knew now that it must be true, for his agents had brought him the -report that the man in the cloak and hat who had left the Dubarrys’ -house the night before had been accompanied by a man like Rochefort, -that they had driven to a house in which Rochefort had apartments, a -report of the whole story which we know.</p> - -<p>And you will observe that, though Rochefort had stamped himself on -the spy’s report in letters of fire, Sartines, the core of the whole -conspiracy, was not even suspected. Sartines had managed to shovel the -whole onus of the business on to the shoulders of Rochefort; he had not -set out wilfully so to do, perhaps—or perhaps he had; at all events, -his success was due entirely to his faultless methods. No one suspected -him, and he had not made an enemy of Choiseul, despite the fact that he -alone had wrecked Choiseul’s most cherished plan.</p> - -<p>Choiseul, certain that Rochefort had been the means of his defeat, -turned suddenly and faced the group of gentlemen standing before him.</p> - -<p>“M. Camus, M. de Monpavon, M. d’Estouteville,” cried he, “I commission -you. M. de Rochefort has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> not yet left the palace. Seize him and bring -him here. If he has left the palace, pursue him and bring him here. I -place the Gardes, and the Suisses and the police of M. Sartines at your -disposal.”</p> - -<p>He turned rapidly to a writing-table, sat down, and dashed off three -warrants in the following terms:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">“URGENCY.</p> - -<p>“The bearer is empowered to seize and arrest the person of Charles -Eugène Montargis, Comte de Rochefort, and to call on all French -citizens to assist in such arrest.</p> - -<p class="right"> -“Signed, <span class="smcap">De Choiseul</span>, <br /> -“Minister.”</p></div> - -<p>He sanded each paper when written and passed it over his shoulder -to the hands waiting to receive it. “If possible,” said he, “make -the arrest yourselves, without the help of Sartines’ men. You are my -accredited agents.”</p> - -<p>When the three gentlemen had each received his commission and warrant -they turned, led by Camus, and left the room swiftly and without a -word. They entered the Chamber of Presentations, divided, passed -through the room from door to door, through the thinning crowd, and -drew it blank. Rochefort had left. The great clock of the chamber -pointed to seven minutes past the half-hour.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">FLIGHT</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">WHEN Rochefort took his leave of Sartines and left the Chamber of -Presentations, he made full speed for the corridor leading to the -Escalier des Ambassadeurs, passed down the great staircase rapidly, -pushed his way through the crowd thronging the hall, found Jaquin, the -usher, on duty, and seizing him:</p> - -<p>“Where is Monsieur Bertrand?” asked Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“He is, no doubt, in the Cabinet of the Equipages, monsieur,” replied -the usher.</p> - -<p>“Good,” said Rochefort.</p> - -<p>His carriage was waiting in the courtyard, but a carriage was too slow -for his present purpose. He wanted a horse, and a swift horse, for the -journey to Paris—wings, if possible, failing them, the swiftest horse -in his Majesty’s stables.</p> - -<p>Bertrand was the keeper of his Majesty’s horses, and Rochefort’s -friend. The Cabinet of the Equipages was a moderately sized apartment. -Here the King arranged each day what horses, what carriages and -attendants he would require, and here Rochefort found his friend, deep -in accounts and reports.</p> - -<p>“My dear Bertrand,” said the Comte, “you see a man in a most desperate -hurry. I must get to Paris at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> once. My carriage is too slow, and I -have come to beg or steal a horse.”</p> - -<p>Bertrand threw up his hands.</p> - -<p>“Impossible! I have already been called to account for lending horses -to my friends in a hurry. Ask me anything else, my dear Rochefort—my -purse, my life, my heart—but a horse, no, a thousand times, no.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, well,” said Rochefort, “I must tell a lie, and you will know the -desperate urgency of my business from the fact that it makes me lie to -you. Well, then, I come from de Sartines with an order of urgency. I am -commanded to ask for your swiftest horse on a matter of State business.”</p> - -<p>“So be it,” said Bertrand. “I cannot resist that order, and you must -settle with Sartines.” He scribbled some words on a piece of paper, -and, calling an attendant, gave it to him.</p> - -<p>“The horse will be in the courtyard in a few minutes,” said Bertrand. -“Well, I am sure to be interrogated over this, and M. de Sartines will -give you the lie. You have weighed all that?”</p> - -<p>“Sartines will support me,” said Rochefort. “We are very good friends; -you need fear nothing. And now, adieu! And thank you for your good -offices in this matter.”</p> - -<p>He bade good-bye to Bertrand and returned through the still crowded -hall to the door that gave exit from the palace.</p> - -<p>Carriage after carriage was leaving, and the courtyard, as Rochefort -came out, was ablaze with light. Burning with impatience, Rochefort -watched the endless stream of carriages, the servants, and the guards, -till, catching sight of a groom in the royal livery, leading a horse -by the bridle, he was about to descend the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> steps when a hand fell -upon his shoulder. He turned and found himself face to face with -Camus. Behind Camus appeared the egg-shaped face of Monpavon—a man he -hated—and beside Monpavon the boneless form of d’Estouteville.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Rochefort, “you have taken a strange liberty with me.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” replied Camus, “I have come to take your freedom.”</p> - -<p>He handed Rochefort the warrant of Choiseul. Rochefort read it by the -light of the doorway, comprehended instantly the desperate seriousness -of his position and the danger of resistance—besides the bad policy.</p> - -<p>But M. de Rochefort was going to Paris, and policy, and danger, and -even Choiseul himself, would not interfere with his purpose. He handed -the paper back to Camus with a smile.</p> - -<p>“Present it to-morrow at my apartments in Paris, Monsieur Camus. I -shall be there at noon. If I am late, my servants will entertain you -till my return. <em>Au revoir.</em>”</p> - -<p>He descended a step, and Camus, putting out a hand to seize him, -received a blow on the belt that felled him as effectually as a blow -on the head would have done. Next moment, Rochefort, dipping under the -horses’ heads of the carriage that had just stopped to take up, reached -the groom in royal livery and the horse which he was leading, seized -the bridle, mounted, and plunged his spurless heels into its flanks.</p> - -<p>Valmajour, for so was the big roan horse named, was not of a temper -to stand treatment like this without marking his resentment of it. He -bucked, as much as a French horse can, filled the yard with the sound<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> -of his hoofs on the great cobble-stones; then he came to hand and -struck for the gate.</p> - -<p>But Rochefort had reckoned without Monpavon and d’Estouteville. They -had raised the hue and cry, the lackeys and soldiers had taken it up. -Twenty voices were crying, “Bar the gate!” and as Rochefort approached -the great gateway, he saw the Suisses crossing their pikes before the -gateway, pike-head across pike-head at a level four feet from the -ground. Valmajour checked slightly at the pull of the bridle, rose to -the touch of Rochefort’s heel, and passed over the crossed pikes like a -bird. A shout rose from the on-lookers as horse and rider disappeared -from the zone of torchlight at the gate into the blacknesses beyond, -and on the shout and like the materialized fury of it, a horse and -rider shot out across the courtyard in pursuit.</p> - -<p>It was d’Estouteville. That limp and enigmatic personage had, alone, -perceived, standing amongst the equipages, the horse of M. de -Beautrellis, captain of the Gardes; a groom was holding it for the -gallant captain, who had entered the palace on some urgent business. -D’Estouteville had seized the horse, mounted, and was now in pursuit. -He knew Rochefort perfectly, and that Rochefort, in his present mood, -would not be taken without a battle to the death. This, however, did -not check him in the least; rather, perhaps, it was the mainspring of -his suddenly found energy.</p> - -<p>The Suisses, recognizing a pursuer, and in a pursuer authority, did not -attempt to check him, and next moment he too had passed the zone of -torchlight and was swallowed up by the darkness beyond.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_I_CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">A DUEL OF WITS</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">CLOUDS were drifting across the moon’s face, casting alternately light -and shadow on the country; the people, attracted by the fête at the -palace, had long vanished. The road was clear, and Rochefort gave free -rein to Valmajour.</p> - -<p>For two miles or so he kept at full speed; then he reined in, leaped -from the saddle, eased the girths a bit, and stood for a moment gazing -backwards along the road, and listening and watching to see if he were -pursued.</p> - -<p>As he listened, he heard on the breeze a faint and rhythmical sound; -it was the great clock of Versailles striking midnight. It passed, and -then in the silence of the night his quick ear caught another sound, -also rhythmical, but continuous. It was the sound of a horse at full -gallop. He was pursued.</p> - -<p>Even as he listened and looked, the shadow of a cloud drew off, leaving -to view the distant figure of a horseman and his horse, as though it -had dropped them on the road. He tightened the girths and remounted, -only to discover the tragic fact that Valmajour, the brave Valmajour, -was lame.</p> - -<p>Now Rochefort was a man to whom the riding of a lame horse brought more -suffering than to the horse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> itself. It was clearly impossible to urge -Valmajour into any pace, but there was a good horse behind him to be -had for the taking. He turned Valmajour’s head and advanced to battle.</p> - -<p>Instantly his quick eye recognized d’Estouteville, who, advancing -at a gallop, was fully exposed to view by the moonlight now strong -on the road, and instantly his quick mind changed its plan. He was -only too eager for a fight, but what he wanted even more was a horse. -D’Estouteville was a good swordsman, and might place him, by chance, -<em>hors de combat</em>, and this chance did not suit him. For M. de Rochefort -was going to Paris, and he had sworn to himself that nothing should -stop him.</p> - -<p>When d’Estouteville was only a hundred yards away, Rochefort drew rein, -leaped from his horse and ran away. He struck across a fence and across -some park-land lying on the right of the road, and d’Estouteville, -scarcely believing his eyes at the sight of his cowardice, flung -himself from the saddle, left the two horses to fraternize, and gave -chase.</p> - -<p>Rochefort was striking across the grass towards some trees. One of -the swiftest runners in France, he now seemed broken down and winded. -D’Estouteville overhauled him rapidly as he ran, making for a small -clump of trees standing in the middle of the park-land. He doubled -round this clump, d’Estouteville’s hand nearly on his shoulder, and -then, having turned and having the road again for his goal, a miracle -happened.</p> - -<p>The tired and broken-down runner became endowed with the swiftness of -a hare; d’Estouteville, furious and hopelessly outpaced, followed, -cursing no less deeply because he had no breath to curse with.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> On the -road Rochefort, with a good thirty yards between him and his pursuer, -seized the bridle of d’Estouteville’s horse, which was quietly cropping -the grass at the road edge, mounted, and, waving his hand to the -emissary of de Choiseul, struck off for Paris.</p> - -<p>D’Estouteville, still perfectly sure of his prey, mounted Valmajour and -turned in pursuit. Then he found out the truth. Rochefort had exchanged -a broken-down horse for a sound one; his flight had not been dictated -by cowardice but by astuteness, and the fooled one in his fury would -have driven his sword through the heart of Valmajour had not Valmajour -been the King’s horse and under royal protection.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="chapter">BOOK II</h2> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE horse Rochefort had captured was a powerful roan, fully caparisoned -after the fashion of the officers’ horses of the cavalry, with pistols -in the holsters and a saddle-bag for despatches.</p> - -<p>Having ridden half a league at full gallop, Rochefort drew rein and -glanced back. He was no longer pursued. He hugged himself at the -thought of d’Estouteville’s position. D’Estouteville would have to -return to Versailles, on a lame horse, and with what explanation? Were -he to tell people that Rochefort had run away from him, he would be -laughed at, for Rochefort’s reputation for courage was too well founded -to be shaken by a tale like that.</p> - -<p>Then as Rochefort proceeded swiftly on his way, the saddle-bag -attracted him; he was at open war with the Choiseul faction; Choiseul -was in power, the Gardes were the servants of Choiseul, and the horse -belonged to an officer in the Gardes. It and its trappings were loot, -and to examine his loot he opened the saddle-bag as he rode, plunged -in his hand, and found nothing but a letter. A large, official letter, -sealed with a red seal and addressed in a big firm hand to</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span></p> - -<p class="center"> -“Mademoiselle La Bruyère,<br /> -“In the Suite of Her Royal Highness<br /> -“At Compiègne.</p> - -<p>“To be left with Madame de La Motte.”</p> - -<p>This was the letter which we saw Choiseul writing.</p> - -<p>“Oh, ho!” cried Rochefort, “M. de Choiseul writing to a young lady, -and that young lady in the suite of the Dauphiness. Well, I have no -quarrel with Choiseul’s private affairs and the letter shall go to its -destination or be returned to him—but first, let me get to Paris.”</p> - -<p>He returned the letter to its place, closed the saddle-bag and urged -the horse into a canter.</p> - -<p>He did not know that Choiseul had specially commissioned M. de -Beautrellis to take this letter, written immediately after the -presentation, to its destination, nor the special urgency and secrecy -necessary to the business, and with which Choiseul had impressed the -servant. Nor would he have had time to think of these things had he -known, for he was now catching up with the crowd of Parisians who had -returned on foot from Versailles, and his eyes and ears and tongue were -fully occupied in avoiding stragglers and warning them out of his way.</p> - -<p>At the Octroi of Paris he was stopped by the soldiers for a moment, -but he had no difficulty in passing them, despite the fact that he was -in full court dress, without spurs, and riding a guard’s horse. He was -M. de Rochefort, known to all of them, and this was doubtless one of -his many freaks. Then, with the streets of Paris before him, he struck -straight for his home in the Rue de Longueville.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span></p> - -<p>Burning as he was to keep his appointment, he knew the vital -necessity of money and a change of clothes. Though he had outwitted -d’Estouteville, he was still pursued. Choiseul would ransack Paris -for him, and failing to find him there—France. He guessed Camus’s -part in the business, he guessed that his action in killing Choiseul’s -villainous agent had been traced to him, and worse than that, he -guessed that the part he had played in disclosing the plan which Camus -had put before him to Madame Dubarry was now perfectly well known to -Choiseul.</p> - -<p>Choiseul would never forgive him for that.</p> - -<p>It was absolutely necessary for him to leave France for a time till -things blew over, or Choiseul was out of power. Of course in a just -age, he might have stood up to the business of the killing, called -Javotte as a witness to the facts of the case, and received the thanks -of society, not its condemnation; but in the age of the <em>Lettre de -Cachet</em> and of Power without mercy, flight was the only safe course, -and this child of his age knew his age, and none better.</p> - -<p>It was two o’clock when he reached the Rue de la Harpe, adjoining the -Rue de Longueville. Here he left the horse tied to a post for anyone -to find who might, and taking the letter from his saddle-bag, repaired -to his apartments. He let himself in with his private key, and without -disturbing his valet changed his clothes, took all the money he could -find, some three thousand francs in gold, tore up and burned a few -letters and left the house, closing the door gently behind him.</p> - -<p>A nice position, truly, for the man who had sworn never to touch -politics, alone in the streets of Paris at half-past two in the -morning, with only a few thousand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> francs in his possession and the -whole of France at his heels.</p> - -<p>But Rochefort, now that he was in the midst of the storm he had always -avoided, did not stop to think of the fury of the wind. So far from -cursing his folly and his position, he found some satisfaction in it. -It seemed to him that he had never lived so vividly before.</p> - -<p>It was only a few minutes’ walk from the Rue de Longueville to the -Rue St. Dominic, where Mademoiselle Fontrailles lived; one had to go -through the Rue de la Harpe, and as he entered that street he saw the -horse, which he had left tied to a post, being led away by a man.</p> - -<p>“Well, my friend,” said the Count, as he overtook the man, “and where -are you going with that fine horse?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” replied the other, “I found him tied to a post, and -thinking it a pity to leave him there to be misused maybe, or stolen by -the first thief, I am taking him home.”</p> - -<p>“Just so,” replied the Count, taking a louis from his pocket, “and, as -I may be in want of a horse in a few hours, here is a louis for you -if you will take him home, give him a feed, change his saddle and be -with him on the road that leads from the Porte St. Antoine at eleven -o’clock, that is, nine hours from now. Be a quarter of a mile beyond -the gate, and if you will do this, I will pay you ten louis for your -trouble.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, I will do it.”</p> - -<p>“Can you obtain a plain saddle in exchange for this one?”</p> - -<p>“I will try, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Do not try, simply rip all this stuff off and take the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> saddle-bag -away, then it will be plain enough, take off the chain bridle and leave -the leather, and remember ten louis for your trouble.”</p> - -<p>He handed the louis to the man, and went on his way.</p> - -<p>It was a good idea, though risky; Rochefort, however, took risks; he -was of the temper of Jean Bart, who, it will be remembered, once reefed -his sails with seaweed, trusting to the wind to blow them loose at the -proper moment.</p> - -<p>In the Rue St. Dominic he paused at the house indicated in the letter. -It was a medium-sized house of good appearance, and all the windows -were in darkness, with the exception of the second window on the first -floor. He stopped and looked up at this window. To knock at the door -would mean rousing the porter. He was quite prepared to do that, but -the lit window fascinated him, something told him that the person he -sought was there.</p> - -<p>He looked about to see if he could find a pebble, but the moon had gone -and the roadway was almost invisible in the darkness; he rubbed the -sole of his boot about on the ground, but could find nothing, so taking -a louis from his pocket and taking careful aim, he flung it up at the -window.</p> - -<p>The casement was open a few inches, and, as luck would have it, the -coin instead of hitting the glass, entered, struck the curtain and fell -on the floor.</p> - -<p>He waited for a moment, and was just on the point of taking another -louis from his pocket, when a shadow appeared on the curtain, the -curtain was drawn aside, and the window pushed open. He could see -the vague outline of a form above the sill, and then came a woman’s -whisper:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span></p> - -<p>“Who is it?”</p> - -<p>“Rochefort,” came the answer. He dared not say more, fearing that it -might be some servant: then, as the form disappeared with the word, -“Wait,” he knew that all was right.</p> - -<p>He searched for the door, found it, and stood waiting, his heart -beating as it never had beaten before. Choiseul, Camus, his own -position, everything, was forgotten.</p> - -<p>He heard a step in the passage and then the bolts carefully withdrawn; -he could scarcely believe in his luck: Camille Fontrailles, with her -own hand, was opening the door for him, at dead of night, secretively, -and in a way that cast everything to the winds.</p> - -<p>Next moment he was in the hall, holding a warm hand in the darkness, -whilst the other little hand of the woman who had admitted him was -replacing the bolts.</p> - -<p>“Come,” whispered a voice.</p> - -<p>He followed, still holding her hand and led as a blind man is led, up -the stairs, to a landing, to a door.</p> - -<p>The woman pushed the door open, and they entered a room lit by a lamp -and with the remnants of a fire in the grate.</p> - -<p>The light of the lamp struck on the woman’s face. It was Javotte.</p> - -<p>Rochefort dropped her hand, stared round him, and then at the girl who -was standing before him with a smile on her lips.</p> - -<p>Never had Javotte looked prettier. Though a girl of the people, she had -a refinement of her own; compared to Camille, she was the wild violet -compared to the cultivated violet, the essential charm was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span> same; -but to Rochefort, suddenly disillusioned, she had neither charm nor -grace.</p> - -<p>“You!” said he, drawing back and walking towards the window.</p> - -<p>The smile vanished from her lips, they trembled, and then, just as if -it had started from her lips, a little shiver went all through her.</p> - -<p>In a flash, she understood all; he had not discovered her window by -some miraculous means, he had not come to see her, he did not care for -her. It was her mistress for whom this visit was intended. Ever since -he had kissed her in the corridor of the Hôtel Dubarry, she had dreamed -of him, looked for him, fancied that he would come to seek her. He had -come, but not for her.</p> - -<p>The blow to her love, her pride, and her life was brutal in its -directness, yet she took it standing, and after the first moment almost -without flinching. She had come of a race to whom pride had been -denied, a race accustomed to the <em>Droit de Seigneur</em>, the whip of the -noble and the disdain of the aristocrat, yet the woman in her found the -pride that hides suffering, and can find and place its hand even on -disdain.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Javotte, “I am sorry, but my mistress is from home.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort, standing by the window, had recovered himself. He guessed -quite well that little Javotte had a more than kindly feeling for him, -that at a look or a touch she would be his, body and soul, and that she -had led him upstairs thinking that his visit was to her. But he was -moving under the dominion of a passion that held his mind from Javotte -as steadily as centrifugal force holds the moon from the earth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span></p> - -<p>“From home?” said he. “Has she not been here, then, to-night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, she was here till half-past twelve, then she left for -the Rue de Valois with Mademoiselle Chon Dubarry.”</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle Dubarry was with her here, then?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, and they left together.”</p> - -<p>He saw at once that the appointment Camille had given him was no -lover’s tryst—or, at least, a lover’s tryst with a chaperon attached -to it. This pleased him, somehow. Despite the fact that his heart had -leaped in him whilst under the dominion of the thought that Camille had -flung all discretion to the winds, the revelation of the truth that it -was Javotte who was flinging discretion to the winds came to him as a -satisfaction, despite the check to his animal nature. Camille was not -to be conquered as easily as that.</p> - -<p>She had waited for him till half-past twelve, there was some comfort -in that thought; the question now arose as to what he should do. It -was clearly impossible to knock the Dubarrys up at that hour in the -morning. He must wait, and where better than here; he wanted a friend -to talk to, and whom could he find better than Javotte?</p> - -<p>There was a chair by the bed, and he sat down on the chair, and then -what did he do but take Javotte on his knee.</p> - -<p>He told her to come and sit on his knee whilst he explained all his -worries and troubles, and she came and sat on his knee like a child. -She would have resisted him now as a lover, yet there in that bedroom, -in that deserted house, she let him caress her without fear and without -thought. There was something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> great about Rochefort at times, when he -forgot Rochefort the <em>flaneur</em> and Rochefort the libertine, or perhaps -it would be nearer the mark to say there was nothing little about him, -and nothing base.</p> - -<p>“It is this way, Javotte,” said he. “Monsieur le Duc de Choiseul, of -whom you have no doubt heard, is pursuing me, and I am running away -from Monsieur le Duc de Choiseul, and as I am not used to running -away, I run very badly, but still I do my best. Now, you remember the -other night when those bad men attacked you?—well, when I chased them -away, I followed one of them and he threw a knife at me and I killed -him. He was an agent of Monsieur de Choiseul, who, having discovered -that I killed his agent, would like very much to kill me. He tried to -arrest me at the Palace of Versailles some hours ago, and the agent he -employed was Monsieur Camus, the same man whose face I smacked before -you——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, monsieur,” said Javotte, “that is an evil man; his face, his very -glance, took the life away from me.”</p> - -<p>“Just so,” said Rochefort; “and I struck that evil man in the stomach, -and left him kicking his heels on the steps of his Majesty’s palace, -whilst I made my escape. I got a horse and came to Paris, but I cannot -stay in Paris. To-morrow I am going to the Rue de Valois to keep that -appointment with your mistress, which I failed to keep to-night. Well, -I may be taken prisoner or killed before I reach the Hôtel Dubarry. In -that case, you will tell your mistress all, and that the fault was not -mine, in that I did not arrive here in time. You will be my friend in -this, Javotte?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur,” replied Javotte, “I will, indeed, be your friend.”</p> - -<p>She who had hoped only to be his lover cast away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> that hope, or -imagined that she cast away that hope, in taking up the reality of -friendship.</p> - -<p>“I trust you,” he said; “and now to another thing. I have here a letter -belonging to Monsieur le Duc de Choiseul; it is addressed to a lady at -Compiègne, it was in the saddle-bag of the horse which I took to carry -me to Paris, and it must be delivered to the lady it is intended for.”</p> - -<p>He took the letter from his pocket and gave it to Javotte, who had now -risen and was standing before him.</p> - -<p>“You must find someone to take it for me, and that someone will expect -to be paid for his trouble, so here are two louis——”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Javotte, “I do not need money.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort returned the coins to his pocket and stood up. He had not -offered Javotte money for herself, but he should not have offered it at -all. The brutality that spoils a butterfly’s wing may be a touch that -would not injure a rose-leaf.</p> - -<p>“Nor did I offer it to you,” said he, placing his hand on her shoulder. -“One does not offer money to a friend—or only as a loan—I meant you -to give it to some footman or other as a reward for his services. But -should you ever need a loan, my little Javotte, why, then, Rochefort -will be your banker, offering you his life and his services without -interest. But there is one thing he will never lend you—and can you -guess what that thing is?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“His friendship—for it is yours, now and always.”</p> - -<p>Javotte bowed her pretty head as if in confirmation and acknowledgment. -Still holding the letter in her hand, she turned it over, glancing now -at the superscription,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> now at the seals. Then, moving towards the -chair, she sat down. Rochefort watched her, wondering what was in her -mind, and waiting for her to speak.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Javotte at last, “you ask me to take this letter to -its destination. To do so, I must first read the address, and I find it -is addressed to Mademoiselle La Bruyère. You say Monsieur de Choiseul -is the writer of it. You say Monsieur de Choiseul is pursuing you. -Well, monsieur, is it not possible that, in parting with this letter, -you are parting with a weapon that may be very useful to you?”</p> - -<p>“Oho!” said Rochefort, laughing, amused at Javotte’s seriousness and -her air of subtlety and intrigue, as though some dove were suddenly to -assume the garb of a serpent’s wisdom. “What is this you say?”</p> - -<p>“Simply, monsieur, that Mademoiselle La Bruyère is one of the greatest -enemies of Madame la Comtesse Dubarry. I have heard my mistress say -that she obtained her place in the entourage of the Dauphiness In order -to poison the mind of the Dauphiness against her. Here is Monsieur de -Choiseul writing to Mademoiselle La Bruyère——”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” cried Rochefort, striking himself on the forehead, and speaking -as though oblivious of Javotte’s presence, “I see. Choiseul writes a -despatch to Mademoiselle La Bruyère—and last night of all nights, -immediately after the presentation, to tell her, without doubt, of the -plan and its failure—and the plan was directed against his Majesty as -well as against the Countess. Certainly, that letter may prove a very -terrible weapon against Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“And you will use it, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“The letter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, the letter.”</p> - -<p>“I—no, I cannot use it. I do not even know that it would help me. I -may be wrong even in my suspicion. The thing may have no value at all; -how do I know that it is not a love-letter?”—he laughed at the idea of -Love coupled with the idea of Choiseul—“or about some private matter? -No, it is impossible. I cannot open Monsieur de Choiseul’s letter to -see if it concerns me, and even were I to open it, and were I to find -the blackest conspiracy under the handwriting of Choiseul, I could not -use it against him.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Javotte, “I am only a poor girl, but I have seen -much in the service of Madame la Comtesse. I have kept my mind about -me, and I have been employed in many things that have taught me many -things. Living at Luciennes and Versailles, I have observed Monsieur -de Choiseul—Look at the affair of yesterday—and there are other -things—— Well, I know that if you were Monsieur de Choiseul, you -would open this letter.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort laughed.</p> - -<p>“You have touched the spot,” said he. “If I were Monsieur de Choiseul, -I would do as you say, but since I am Monsieur de Rochefort, I cannot. -I am only a poor gentleman of Auvergne, without any head for political -intrigue or any hand for political matters, and were I to open that -letter, I would do the business so badly, that my unaccustomed hand -would betray itself.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, I did not ask you to open this letter.”</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle, had you done so, I would have obeyed you without murmur, -for your lightest request would be for me a command. And now put the -accursed thing away that it may not tempt us any more,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> and if you -will show me to some room where I may snatch a couple of hours’ sleep, -I will lie down, for I have a heavy day before me if I am not very -greatly mistaken.”</p> - -<p>Javotte rose up and placed the letter in the drawer of a bureau by the -door. Then she ran out of the room and returned with a rug of marten -skin, which she spread on the bed; she turned the rug back and arranged -the pillows. She was offering him her bed.</p> - -<p>“I will call you at six o’clock,” said she.</p> - -<p>She glanced round the room like a careful housewife who wishes to see -that everything is in order, smiled at Rochefort, nodded, and vanished, -closing the door behind her.</p> - -<p>Rochefort removed his coat and sword-belt, got under the rug, rested -his head on the pillow and in five minutes was snoring.</p> - -<p>Javotte, crossing the landing, entered her mistress’s bedroom, where a -lamp was burning.</p> - -<p>She turned the lamp full on and sat down in a chair by the fire-place. -She was in love and her love was hopeless, and her power of love may -be gauged from the fact that she was thinking less of herself than of -Rochefort, and less of Rochefort than his position.</p> - -<p>She knew Camille Fontrailles as only a woman can know a woman. That -beautiful face, those eyes so capable of betraying interest and love, -that charm, that grace—all these had no influence with Javotte. She -guessed Camille to be heartless, not cruel, but acardiac, if one may -use the expression, without impulse, negative towards men, yet exacting -towards them, requiring their homage, yet giving in return no pay—or -only promissory notes; capable of real friendship<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span> towards women, and -more than friendship—absolute devotion to a chosen woman friend. This -type of woman is exceedingly common in all high civilizations; it -is the stand of the ego against the Race instinct, a refusal of the -animal by the sensibilities, a development of the finer feelings at the -expense of the natural passions—who knows—— Javotte reasoned only by -instinct, and it was instinct that made her guess Rochefort’s passion -for Camille to be a hopeless passion, and it was this guess that now -brought some trace of comfort to her human and wicked heart.</p> - -<p>She was capable of dying for Rochefort, of sacrificing all comfort in -life for his comfort, yet of treasuring the thought of his discomfiture -at the hands of Camille.</p> - -<p>She rose up, and, taking the lamp, stood before the mirror that had so -often reflected the beauty of her mistress.</p> - -<p>What she saw was charming, yet she saw it through the magic of -disenchantment.</p> - -<p>It was the wild flower gazing at her reflection in the brook where the -lordly dragon-fly pauses for a second, heedless of her, on his way -towards the garden of the roses.</p> - -<p>Then she placed the lamp on the table again, and went downstairs to -make coffee for the dragon-fly, to give him strength on his journey.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE GRATITUDE OF THE DUBARRYS</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">ROCHEFORT was pursuing Camus through Dreamland, when the touch of a -hand upon his shoulder brought him wide awake. It was Javotte. She -had placed the tray with the coffee on a table by the window, and was -standing beside him. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, burst out laughing as -though the world he had awakened to was a huge joke, and, casting the -marten-skin rug aside, rose to his feet.</p> - -<p>“<em>Ma foi</em>,” said he, “I was chasing a man through the palace of -Versailles, when Monsieur de Choiseul laid his hand on my shoulder—and -the hand was yours. It is a good omen.”</p> - -<p>He kissed the hand that had brought him the coffee, slipped on his coat -and sword-belt, laughing and talking all the time, and then, coffee-cup -in hand, stood still talking and at the same time glancing out of the -window every now and then.</p> - -<p>He had remembered, a most important fact, that he owed his valet a -month’s wages.</p> - -<p>Javotte at once offered to take it for him, and placing five louis in a -piece of paper, he gave them to her for the purpose.</p> - -<p>“That will keep him going till things clear up,” said Rochefort. “He -is faithful enough, but without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> money he would be driven to seek -another master. And now good-bye, little one, nay, not good-bye—<em>au -revoir</em>. We will meet soon again, of that I am sure, and in happier -circumstances.”</p> - -<p>“Are you going to the Rue de Valois, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“I am going to the Rue de Valois, and that as quick as my feet can take -me.”</p> - -<p>“But, monsieur, have you not thought of the danger?”</p> - -<p>“What danger?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>ma foi!</em> What danger? If Monsieur de Choiseul is pursuing you, -will he not have the streets watched?”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly; but as Paris is under Monsieur de Sartines, Monsieur de -Choiseul must first put Monsieur de Sartines in motion. Now, Monsieur -de Sartines is my friend and he will delay, I am perfectly sure; he -will be bound to act, but he will not be bound to break his neck -running after me. So I feel pretty safe till noon.”</p> - -<p>Javotte sighed. She said nothing more, but accompanied him down the -stairs to the door, which she unlatched for him. The <em>concierge</em>, a -discreet person, no doubt observed this letting out of a man whom he -had not let in. However, that was nothing to him, and as for Javotte, -she did not think of the matter, so filled was her mind with other -things.</p> - -<p>Having closed the door on Rochefort, she came up again to her room, -and taking the letter from the drawer in the bureau looked at it long -and attentively. Rochefort had refused to open it, but Javotte had no -scruples at all on the matter. She argued with herself thus: “If I -were to open this from curiosity, I would be on the level with those -spying servants whom I detest,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> like Madame Scudery’s maid or the maid -of Madame du Close. But I am not doing it from curiosity. I am doing -it for the sake of another person, who is too proud and too fine to -take precautions for himself. And who is Monsieur de Choiseul that one -should trouble about opening his letters? Does he not do the very same -himself—and who is Mademoiselle La Bruyère that one should not open -her letters? Does she not do much worse in many and many a way? And -what are they writing to one another about, these two? Well, we will -see.”</p> - -<p>She procured a knife and heated it over the still burning lamp in her -mistress’ bedroom. Then, with a dexterity which she had often seen -exhibited in the Dubarry <em>ménage</em>, she slid the hot knife under the -seals of the letter.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Meanwhile, Rochefort was walking briskly towards the Rue de Valois. -It was a perfect morning, the sky was stainless and the new-risen sun -was flooding the city with his level beams, pouring his light on the -mansions and gardens of the Faubourg St. Honoré, on the churches and -spires of the cité, on the Montagne Ste. Genevieve and on the grim, -black towers of the Bastille.</p> - -<p>His way lay through the Rue de Provençe, a street that might have been -named after its inhabitants, for here, amidst the early morning stir of -life, you might hear the Provençal patois, the explosive little oaths, -the shrill tongues of the women of the Camargue; and here you might buy -Arles sausages, and Brandade, from swarthy shopkeepers with red cotton -handkerchiefs tied round their heads and with gold rings in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> their -ears, and here you might see the Venus of Arles in the flesh at every -corner.</p> - -<p>He passed from here into the Rue d’Artois, and then into the Rue de -Valois.</p> - -<p>Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte was at home, and Rochefort, following the -servant, passed into the hall and was shown into the identical room -where, only the night before last, he had assisted at the council of -war, and where the Countess had protested her devotion to him and the -Vicomte Jean had sworn eternal friendship.</p> - -<p>The servant had drawn the blinds, and the morning light entered, -illuminating the place and striking the white and gold decorations, the -painted ceiling and the crystal of the candelabrum. The chairs were set -about just as they had been left by the last persons who had occupied -the place, and on one of the chairs was lying a woman’s glove.</p> - -<p>From the next room could be heard voices; men’s voices, laughter and -the clink of money. The Vicomte Jean and some of his disreputable -companions were, no doubt, playing at cards, had been playing, most -likely, all night, or, at all events, since news came that the -presentation was a success, for the Vicomte had not turned up at -Versailles, he had been too busy in Paris arranging matters.</p> - -<p>Now, as Rochefort listened, he heard the servant entering to announce a -visitor; the voices of the card-players ceased, then came the sounds of -voices grumbling. A minute later, and the door giving on the corridor -opened, and Jean Dubarry made his appearance.</p> - -<p>He had never looked worse. His face was stiff from drink and -sleeplessness, his coat was stained with wine, and one stocking was -slipping down and wrinkled.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> He had been taking huge pinches of snuff -to pull himself together, and the evidence of it was upon him.</p> - -<p>“Ha, Rochefort,” cried the man of pleasure. “You are early, hey! You -see me—I have not been to bed—when the good news came by special -messenger, I had some friends here, they are here still——” He yawned -and flung himself on a couch, stretched out his legs, put his hands in -his pockets, and yawned again.</p> - -<p>“Your special messenger did not come quicker from Versailles than I -did,” said Rochefort. “Dubarry, I’m in the pot this time. I have always -avoided politics, but they have got me at last, it seems.”</p> - -<p>“What are you saying?” asked Dubarry.</p> - -<p>“I am saying that Choiseul is after me.”</p> - -<p>“Choiseul after you!” echoed Dubarry, rousing himself. “What is this -you say? What has he found out? <em>Dame!</em> I thought all this business was -happily ended, and now you come and disturb me with this news—what is -it?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>ma foi</em>, you may well ask what is it!” replied Rochefort, -irritated by the manner of the other. “It is this precious business -of yours that has fallen on me, and it seems to me now that I am the -only one to pay. Choiseul has discovered my part in it; he tried to -arrest me at Versailles last night, he failed and I am here. I am -pursued—that is all.”</p> - -<p>Dubarry rose to his feet thoroughly sobered; he walked a few steps up -and down the room, as if trying to pull his thoughts together. Then he -turned to Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“You will excuse me for saying it, my dear Rochefort, but, considering -the delicate position of the Comtesse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> and the fact that Choiseul is in -pursuit of you—it would have been wiser of you to have sought shelter -elsewhere. We are quite ready to help, but it is imperative now that -this affair has blown over that we should resume friendly relationship -with Choiseul. Of course, we are not friends, still, you can very well -understand the necessity of our keeping up an appearance of friendship -with the man who is the first man in France after his Majesty. It is -diplomacy—that is all.”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me,” said Rochefort, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”</p> - -<p>“In what way?”</p> - -<p>“I did not come here to take shelter.”</p> - -<p>“You came, then, to see me?”</p> - -<p>Rochefort looked Dubarry up and down, then he broke into a laugh.</p> - -<p>“No, my dear man, I did not come here to see you. I came here to see -Mademoiselle Fontrailles, and to take my leave of her before I leave -France or enter the Bastille.”</p> - -<p>“To see Mademoiselle Fontrailles?”</p> - -<p>“Precisely.”</p> - -<p>“At this hour?”</p> - -<p>“The matter is urgent.”</p> - -<p>“But it is impossible. She is not up yet.”</p> - -<p>“She will get up when she learns that I am here.”</p> - -<p>“You think so. Well, I tell you no. Put off your visit to her, for -she came back last night not well disposed towards you; you kept her -waiting, it seems, and then you did not arrive.”</p> - -<p>“I wish to explain all that.”</p> - -<p>“Wait, then,” said Jean.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span></p> - -<p>He left the room in an irritable manner, and returned in a minute or -two.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle Fontrailles is unable to see you; she will not be visible -before noon.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, then at noon she will not be visible to me, for at noon I must be -out of Paris. You did not give her my message.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>ma foi!</em>” cried Jean, swelling like a turkey-cock. “You say that -to my face! You give me the lie direct!”</p> - -<p>“I give you nothing. I say you did not explain to her fully my -position.”</p> - -<p>“Explain to her your position? <em>Mon Dieu!</em> I explained it as well as -I could, shouting through her closed bedroom door, and her reply was, -‘Tell Monsieur Rochefort I am unable to see him, and in any event I -will not come down till noon.’ So you see, she did not even say she -would see you at noon.”</p> - -<p>“The devil!” said Rochefort. “I don’t know what to make of you all. I -say nothing about any help I have given you, but I will say this, the -man I have pitted myself against, Monsieur de Choiseul, is at least a -gentleman who looks after the interests of his friends. Good-day.”</p> - -<p>He turned to the door.</p> - -<p>“Where are you going to?” asked Jean.</p> - -<p>“I am going to breakfast at the Café de Régence.”</p> - -<p>“In your position?”</p> - -<p>“Precisely. What do I care? I will leave Paris at my own time, and in -my own way.”</p> - -<p>“But, my dear Rochefort,” cried Jean, now very eager and friendly, “if -you are pursued by Choiseul, and if you do not leave Paris at once, you -will be simply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> playing into his hands; you will be caught, imprisoned, -they may even torture you to make you tell.”</p> - -<p>“About the presentation?”</p> - -<p>“About anything—everything. You know Choiseul, he is pitiless.”</p> - -<p>“Make your mind easy,” said Rochefort, “I will tell without letting -them torture me. What are you all to me that I should care? Now you -have used me, you have done with me, and you are anxious that I should -escape, not because you care a <em>denier</em> for my safety, but because you -fear that they may extract the story of Ferminard from me——. That is -what I think of you, Monsieur le Vicomte, what I think of Madame la -Comtesse, what I think of Mademoiselle Fontrailles; you can tell them -so with my regards.”</p> - -<p>He turned on his heel, pushed the door open and walked out.</p> - -<p>He was furious. Certain that Jean had told him the truth as to -Camille’s message—for Jean had indeed told the truth, and his -sincerity was patent—he could have pulled the house of Dubarry down on -the heads of its inmates.</p> - -<p>Instead, however, of making such an attempt, he walked into the street -and strode off without looking back.</p> - -<p>Jean, left alone, rushed back to the room where the gamblers were still -playing, drank off a glass of wine, excused himself, and then went to -the servants’ quarters, ordered a carriage to be brought at once to -the door, rushed upstairs, changed his clothes, and the carriage being -ready, drove to the Hôtel de Sartines.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE PAIR OF SPECTACLES</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE Hôtel de Sartines was situated in the Faubourg St. Germain. Jean -Dubarry’s carriage drove into the courtyard as half-past eight was -striking, he descended, went up the steps, and entered the great hall, -where already the bustle and the business of the day was in full swing.</p> - -<p>The door was guarded by soldiers, a Suisse stood as sentry at the foot -of the great staircase, and soldiers sat about on the benches, whilst -crossing the hall from department to department went clerks, and men -with papers in their hands, messengers and agents.</p> - -<p>Dubarry gave his name to the usher on duty, and asked him to take it -to the Comte de Sartines, with a message that his business was urgent. -In less than five minutes, the man reappeared and asked the visitor to -follow him.</p> - -<p>He led the way up the broad staircase to the first floor, past the -entrance of the famous octagon chamber, down a corridor to the bedroom -of his Excellency, who was at that moment being finished off by his -valet, Gaussard, the same who, though a valet, claimed the right to -wear a sword by virtue of the fact that he was also a hairdresser.</p> - -<p>Sartines, released from the valet’s hands, was in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span> act of rising -from his chair, when Dubarry was announced.</p> - -<p>The Minister of Police was in an ill temper that morning, and as the -cause of his bad humour has an important bearing on our story, we will -refer to it.</p> - -<p>Briefly, then, some days ago a tragedy had occurred at Luciennes. -Atalanta, the King’s favourite hound, had been poisoned. Louis XV., to -give him his due, had a not unkindly feeling for animals. He tolerated -Mizapouff, the little dog of Madame Dubarry, that cut such quaint -capers at a celebrated dinner-party, he fed the carp in the pond -at Luciennes with his own royal hand—when he could find no better -amusement, and he was fond of Atalanta. Besides, she was his dog, the -only dog of all the dogs in France who had the entrée of his private -apartments. She was on a footing with the Duc de la Vrillière, her coat -had the royal arms embroidered on it, and she knew it; she was fed with -minced chicken, and she had her own personal attendant.</p> - -<p>Some days ago, this aristocrat had been found in the courtyard at -Luciennes, stiff and stark, poisoned by some miscreant or some -mischance. The King was furious. He took it as a personal matter. -Sartines was fetched over from Versailles, where he was on a visit of -inspection, and Sartines had the unpleasant task of inspecting the -corpse and questioning the cooks, the scullions, the chambermaids, -the grooms, the gardeners—everyone, in short, who might have had a -hand in the business, or who might have been able to cast some light -on the affair. The result was absolute darkness and much worry for -the unfortunate Sartines. The matter had become a joke at Court, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> -Sartines might have measured the extent to which he was hated by the -way in which he was tormented.</p> - -<p>Everyone asked him about the dog, and whether he had made any further -advance into the mystery; a ballad was written about it, and he -received a copy. The whole business gave him more worry and caused him -more irritation than any other of the numerous affairs that were always -annoying and irritating him, and, to cap the business, he had received -this morning a neat little parcel containing a pair of spectacles. -Nothing more.</p> - -<p>The Vicomte bowed to Sartines and then, when the valet had taken his -departure, plunged into the business at hand:</p> - -<p>“My dear Sartines, that fool of a Rochefort has complicated matters in -the most vile way; he called an hour ago and knocked me up to tell me -the pleasant news that Choiseul is in pursuit of him. More than that, -he has taken a grudge against us. He is in love with the Fontrailles, -she refused to see him. I advised him to leave Paris at once, and all -I got for my advice was an accusation of ingratitude. He is against us -now; he knows all about the Ferminard affair, and he frankly threatened -me that, were Choiseul to capture him and question him in any -unpleasant way, he would tell all he knew. Even were Choiseul simply to -imprison him, he would most likely tell, just from spite against us and -to obtain his release.”</p> - -<p>“The devil!” said Sartines. “Things seem to have a habit of going wrong -these days—but he would not tell. I have great faith in Rochefort, -though I am not given to having faith in people. He is a very proud -man. He would not betray us.”</p> - -<p>“Has he promised secrecy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“No, he has promised nothing.”</p> - -<p>“There you are. He may be a proud man, an honourable man—what you -will, but he fancies we have used him and cast him away. There is -the Fontrailles business as well. He is angry, and I tell you, when -Rochefort is like that, he cares for nothing. He said Choiseul was at -least a gentleman who could look after his friends. He will join arms -with Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“Well, suppose he does?”</p> - -<p>“Then Choiseul will be in power for ever. Once he gets hold of the -true tale of the Ferminard business, he will flatten us out. I will be -exiled, for one, his Majesty could never allow such an affront to the -Monarchy to go unpunished; and you, Sartines, what will become of you? -Who originated the whole idea but you, yourself?”</p> - -<p>Sartines produced his snuff-box and took a pinch. Then he turned to the -window and looked out on the courtyard.</p> - -<p>He felt himself badly placed.</p> - -<p>He had guarded against everything but this—Rochefort turned an enemy.</p> - -<p>He knew quite well that the Dubarrys had used Rochefort just as they -had used the old Comtesse de Béarn, for their own ends, and would throw -him away when used; what angered him was the fact that this fool of a -Vicomte Jean had clearly let Rochefort perceive this; there was the -business of the girl, too. Rochefort had promised no secrecy.</p> - -<p>“Before we talk of Rochefort,” said he, “how about Madame de Béarn?”</p> - -<p>“We have nothing to fear from her,” said Jean. “She was furious, but -the thing is over, and were she to make a fuss, she would gain nothing -and lose a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> good deal. She has come in, and her price, between you and -me, was not a low price. She has cost us two hundred thousand francs. -By the way, I suppose Ferminard is safe?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; when his work was done, he was driven to Vincennes very securely -guarded. When Choiseul is gone from the Ministry, we will let him out. -Now, as to Rochefort, we must deal with that gentleman in a drastic -way. That is to say, we must save him from Choiseul. For, if Choiseul -once takes him into his hands, we are lost.”</p> - -<p>“How do you propose to act?”</p> - -<p>“Very simply. I shall arrest him and hide him in Vincennes.”</p> - -<p>“And Choiseul, when he hears the news, will visit him in Vincennes.”</p> - -<p>“Choiseul will not hear the news. We will pretend he has escaped. Early -this morning I had a letter from Choiseul, asking me to drag Paris -with a seine net for Rochefort. He is accused of having killed a man. -Well, I will drag Paris with a seine net, imprison Rochefort, under the -name of Bonhomme, or any name you please, and once we have him tightly -tucked away in Vincennes, all will be smooth. Captain Pierre Cousin, -the governor of Vincennes, is entirely mine.”</p> - -<p>“It is a good idea,” said Jean; “and really, seeing how Rochefort is -placed as regards Choiseul, it would be the best act we could do for -him.”</p> - -<p>“It’s the best we can do for ourselves,” said Sartines. “Has Rochefort -gone back to his rooms, do you think?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. He told me he would go to the Café de Régence for -breakfast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“If he said that, he will be there, it’s just like his bravado, and -there I shall arrest him.”</p> - -<p>“He will resist, and he will be surrounded by friends.”</p> - -<p>“Dubarry,” said Sartines, “you talk as though you were talking to a -police agent. If you had been with me the other night, you would have -heard me giving Rochefort a little lecture on my ways and methods; you -would have heard me say, amongst other things, that I hold my position -not by cleverness—though, indeed, perhaps I am not a fool—but by my -knowledge of men and how they reason and think and act. Of course, if -I were to arrest Rochefort in the ordinary way, he would resist; his -friends would help him, blood would be spilt, and the Parisians would -cry out, ‘Ah! there is that cursed de Sartines again.’ Rochefort is a -popular figure, and a popular figure only requires to be arrested to -make it a popular idol. I do not intend to make an idol of Rochefort.”</p> - -<p>He went to the table by the window, and struck a bell.</p> - -<p>“Send Lavenne to me,” said he, when the servant answered the summons. -“Has he arrived yet?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, he is here.”</p> - -<p>“Then send him up.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE ARREST OF ROCHEFORT</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">ROCHEFORT, when he left the Hôtel Dubarry, reached the Rue St. Honoré -and walked up it, past the Hôtel de Noailles, and in the direction of -the Palais Royal.</p> - -<p>The Rue St. Honoré is the old main artery of the business and social -world of Paris on the right bank of the Seine. In one direction, it -led to the palaces of the Faubourg St. Honoré, in the other to the -Bastille. In the eighteenth century it was as bustling and alive with -business as it is now, and its side streets led even to more important -places. Walking up it from the Faubourg St. Honoré, you had the Place -Vendôme opening from it on the left, beyond the Place Vendôme the great -door giving entrance to the Jacobins, beyond that, as you advanced, the -Rue de l’Échelle, on the right, leading to the Place de Carrousel and -the Tuileries; on the left, further along, the Rue de Richelieu, and on -the right three streets leading directly to the Louvre. Beyond that the -Rue de Poulies leading to St. Germain l’Auxerrois, and much further on, -the Halles to the left. The river was much less accessible from the Rue -St. Honoré than it is to-day, being barred off by the Tuileries, the -buildings on the Quai des Galeries du Louvre, and the Louvre itself. -Nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> was more remarkable in this old Paris than the way in which -public convenience was sacrificed to the convenience of the King, -the nobles and the religious orders. You entered a street and found -yourself face to face with a barrier—as in that street where Rochefort -encountered and killed de Choiseul’s agent; a way that ought to have -led you to the river, brought you to the back door of a monastery; -a road that ought to have been a short cut, such as the Court St. -Vincent, landed you to the gateway of Le Manége. Streets like the Rue -du Brave led you into culs-de-sac like the Foire St. Germain.</p> - -<p>The religious orders showed large over the city. One might say that it -was a city of churches, monasteries, convents and religious houses, -palaces and royal residences. If every religious house had offered -sanctuary to the unfortunates pursued by the King or the nobles, then -Paris would have been the best city in the world for a man who was -trying to escape; this not being so, it was the worst, as Rochefort -would have found to his cost had he been on that business. But M. de -Rochefort was not making his escape. He was going to breakfast at the -Café de Régence, despite Choiseul and the world, or rather because of -them.</p> - -<p>Anger had worked him up into a mood of absolute recklessness. He had -never been famed for carefulness; wine made him mad—reckless; but -anger and thwarted desire were to prove themselves even more potent -than wine. As he went on his way, he expected arrest at each street -corner, or rather attempted arrest; for, in his present temper, he -would have resisted all of Choiseul’s agents and all de Sartines<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span>’ -guards, even had they been led by Choiseul and Sartines in person.</p> - -<p>He wanted to hit the Dubarrys, he wanted to strike at Camille -Fontrailles; failing them, it would content him to hit Choiseul or his -creatures should he come across them, or Sartines—or even his best -friend.</p> - -<p>Of course, the whole centre of this passionate fury was Camille -Fontrailles. She would not see him; very well, he would see what he -would not do.</p> - -<p>As he walked along the Rue St. Honoré, he glanced from right to left, -after the manner of a man who seeks to pick a quarrel even if he has -to pick it with a stranger. But at that comparatively early hour, the -Rue St. Honoré was not the place for a bully’s business. People were -too busy to give cause for offence, and too lowly to take it with a -nobleman, and Rochefort, if the matter had been an absolute necessity -with him, would have been condemned to skewer a shopboy, a market -porter, or a water-carrier.</p> - -<p>But at the Café de Régence, when he reached it, he found what he -imagined to be the <em>hors-d’œuvre</em> for a regular banquet.</p> - -<p>The Café de Régence, at that period, was the meeting-place of the -intellectuals, and at the same time the meeting-place of the bloods. -Rousseau might have been seen there of an evening, Jean Dubarry -took breakfast there sometimes, Rochefort, and many others like -him, frequented the place. At this hour, that is to say about ten -o’clock, Rochefort found a couple of bald-headed men and several -rather seedy ones sipping coffee and discussing the news of the day. -They were Philosophers—Intellectuals, and like all Philosophers and -Intellectuals of all ages, untidy, shabby, and making a great noise.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span></p> - -<p>Rochefort, drinking the wine he had ordered and talking to the waiter -who had served it, spoke in so loud a voice and made such free remarks -about things in general, and the habitués of the café in particular, -that faces were turned to him from the surrounding tables and then -turned away again. No one wished to pick a quarrel with M. de -Rochefort, his character was too well known, and his tongue.</p> - -<p>He ordered <em>déjeuner</em> for half-past eleven, and then he sat drinking -his wine, his virulence, like a sheathed sword, only waiting to be -drawn. But no one came to draw it. People entered and spoke to him, but -they were all Amiables. There was M. de Duras, rubicund and portly, -with whom one could no more quarrel than with a cask of port; there was -M. de Jussieu, the botanist and friend of Rousseau, beautifully dressed -and carrying a book, his head full of flowers and roots, long Latin -terms and platitudes; there was M. de Champfleuri, eighty years old, -yet with all his teeth, dressed like a May morning, and fragile-looking -as a Dresden china figure. He would damn your soul for the least -trifle, but you could not quarrel with him for fear of breaking him. -There was Monsieur Müller, who was finding his way in Paris as an -exponent—by means of a translator—of the theories of Mesmer. You -could not quarrel with him, as he only knew three words of French. -There were others equally impossible. Ah! if only M. d’Estouteville had -turned up, or Monpavon; Camus or Coigny!</p> - -<p>Rochefort turned to the breakfast that was now served to him, and as -he ate continued to grumble. If only some of these people whom he -hated would come, that he might insult them; if only one of Choiseul’s -agents, or even a dozen of them, would come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> to arrest him, so that he -might fight his way to the door and fight his way out of Paris; but no -one came, till—as he was in the middle of his meal—an inconspicuous -and quietly-dressed man entered, looked round, saw M. de Rochefort -sitting at his breakfast, and came towards him.</p> - -<p>It was Lavenne.</p> - -<p>Lavenne came up to the table, bowed, and taking an empty chair at the -opposite side of the table, sat down.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur de Rochefort,” said Lavenne, “I have come to arrest you.”</p> - -<p>He spoke with a friendly smile, and in a manner so urbane, and even -deferential, that Rochefort was quite disarmed. He broke into a laugh -as though someone had told him a good joke, refilled his glass, took a -sip, and placed the glass down again.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you have come to arrest me, Monsieur Lavenne; good. But where is -your sword, and where are your assistants?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “I never carry a sword, and I always act -single-handed.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, you always act single-handed—So do I. <em>Mordieu!</em> Monsieur -Lavenne, it is a coincidence.”</p> - -<p>“Call it a happy accident, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“As how?”</p> - -<p>“Simply because, monsieur, that as I come to do you a service, and to -do it single-handed, your thanks will be all mine and I shall not have -to divide it with others.”</p> - -<p>“Now, upon my faith,” cried Rochefort, laughing and filling a glass -with wine, “you have a way of putting things which is entirely new; -and what I have observed in you before does not lose in value at all,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> -I assure you, on further acquaintance. May I offer you this glass of -wine? To your health—a strange wish enough, as I believe before many -minutes are over—as many minutes, in fact, as I take in finishing -my breakfast and rising from this table—I shall have the honour of -spitting you on my sword.”</p> - -<p>“To your health, monsieur,” replied Lavenne, perfectly unmoved and -raising the glass to his lips. “One can only do one’s duty, and as it -is my duty to arrest you, I must take the risk of your sword, which I -believe, monsieur, not to be sharper than your tongue to those who have -offended you; a risk which I reckon as slight, inasmuch as I have no -intention of offending you.”</p> - -<p>“Eh! no intention of offending me, and yet you talk of arrest!”</p> - -<p>“That is the fault of our language, monsieur, which compels us -sometimes to use words which carry unpleasant meanings to express -our thoughts. Now the word Arrest is not a pleasant word, yet in my -mouth and used at this table, it is not unpleasant—It means, in fact, -Protection.”</p> - -<p>“And how?”</p> - -<p>“It is necessary for you to leave Paris immediately, monsieur—is that -not so?”</p> - -<p>“I am going.”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, you are not. It is absolutely impossible to leave the -walls of Paris, and were you by some miracle to do so, Monsieur de -Choiseul would place his hand on you before you left France.”</p> - -<p>“I will risk it.”</p> - -<p>“You cannot—It is not a question of risk, it is a question of -certainty. Now, monsieur, you are young,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> you have forty years more of -good life before you, and you are in great danger of losing them.”</p> - -<p>“I do not fear death.”</p> - -<p>“Everyone knows that, but it is not death that you have to fear at the -hands of Monsieur de Choiseul; it is something much worse.”</p> - -<p>“And that?”</p> - -<p>“La Bastille, monsieur. She is a terrible person, who rarely lets go -what she once lays a hold on. You say to yourself, ‘Bah! I will fight -my way from Paris, I will escape somehow.’ Well, I tell you, you will -not. I will prove it to you. Last night, you ordered a horse to be kept -waiting for you at noon to-day a quarter of a mile beyond the Porte St. -Antoine.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know that?”</p> - -<p>“The Hôtel de Sartines knows everything, monsieur—— Well, Monsieur de -Sartines would be very happy not to interfere with this way of escape -for you, were it not that he knows Monsieur de Choiseul’s plans as well -as yours. In short, monsieur, the Porte St. Antoine is guarded so well -by Monsieur de Choiseul’s orders, that no one can leave Paris even in -disguise; every other gate is guarded as strictly.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Diable!</em>” said Rochefort. “It seems, then, that I must convert myself -into a bird to fly over the walls.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur de Choiseul would set his falcons on you, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Into a rat, then, to crawl out through the sewers.”</p> - -<p>“The Hôtel de Choiseul contains many cats, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“My faith, that’s true,” cried Rochefort, with a laugh, “since it -contains Madame de Choiseul and her friend, Madame la Princesse de -Guemenée. Well,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> then, I must stay in Paris. I will go and live with -Monsieur Rousseau and help him to write poetry—or is it music that he -writes?”</p> - -<p>“Neither, monsieur—but time is passing, and my business is urgent. I -am here to arrest you, and I call on you, monsieur, to follow me.”</p> - -<p>“And where?—to the Bastille?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, to Vincennes, where we will hide you away from Monsieur -de Choiseul till this business has blown over, and where you will be -treated as a prisoner, but as a gentleman.”</p> - -<p>“But were I to fall in with this mad plan of yours, Monsieur Lavenne, I -would simply be running down Choiseul’s throat, it seems to me. As the -first Minister of France, he will easily find me in Vincennes.”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, he will not hunt in the prisons for a man whom he -fancies to be running on the roads. Monsieur de Sartines, even, will -have no official knowledge of your arrest. I am not arresting you under -your own name. I have, in fact, mistaken you for one Justin La Porte, -a gentleman under suspicion of conspiracy and of being a frequenter -of certain political clubs. Should Monsieur de Choiseul, by some ill -chance, find you at Vincennes, the whole blame would fall on me. I -would be dismissed the service for my ‘mistake.’”</p> - -<p>Rochefort, as he listened to all this, began to take counsel with -himself. His madness and anger against the world had received a -check under the hand of Lavenne. Lavenne was perhaps the only person -in the world who had ever called him to order, thwarted his will -without raising his anger, and made him think. Lavenne himself, in his -person, his manner and his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> life was a criticism on Rochefort. This -man who never drank—or only sipped half a glass of wine as a matter -of ceremony—who belonged to the people, who dressed soberly, and -whose life was very evidently one of hard work and devotion to duty, -commanded respect just as he commanded confidence. But there was more -than that. Lavenne had about him something of Fate, and an Authority -beyond even that of the Hôtel de Sartines. One could never imagine -this man reasoning wildly or acting foolishly, nor could one very well -imagine him allowing a personal motive to rule his line of action. -There was something disturbing in his calmness, as though one discerned -beneath everything a mechanism moving with the unswerving aim of a -mechanism towards the goal appointed by its constructor.</p> - -<p>“Even now, monsieur,” continued Lavenne, “you would have Monsieur de -Choiseul’s hand upon your shoulder had you not, urged by some good -fairy, taken refuge in the very last place where his agents and spies -would look for you; they are ransacking the streets, they are posted at -the gates, they are all hunting for a man who is running away, and you -have outwitted them simply by not running away, but coming to breakfast -at the Café de Régence.”</p> - -<p>“And yet you found me,” said Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“Because, monsieur, I belong to the Hôtel de Sartines, not to the Hôtel -de Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“Let us be perfectly clear,” said Rochefort. “The agents of Choiseul -are hunting for me, the agents of Sartines are trying to hide me.”</p> - -<p>“Not quite so, monsieur: the agents of Choiseul are hunting for you, -and all the agents of the Hôtel de Sartines must assist the agents -of Choiseul if they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> are called upon by them to arrest Monsieur de -Rochefort. But <em>one</em> agent of the Hôtel de Sartines, that is to say I, -myself, is trying to hide Monsieur de Rochefort, and he is doing so at -the instigation of Monsieur de Sartines.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” said Rochefort. “The matter is of such a delicate nature, -that Sartines dare not give a general order to his police to thwart -Choiseul’s men and to hide me, so he entrusts it to one man, and that -man is Monsieur Lavenne.”</p> - -<p>“Precisely, monsieur. You have put the whole thing in a nutshell.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur Lavenne, the last time I played chess, it was with -Monsieur de Gondy. I was stalemated by the move of a bishop. To-day, -playing chess with Monsieur de Sartines, I am stalemated by the move -of a knight. You are the knight, Monsieur Lavenne. You have closed in -on me and shown me my position, and I do not kick the board over in a -temper, simply because you have come to me as a gentleman comes to a -gentleman, and spoken to me as a gentleman speaks to a gentleman. I -cannot move, it seems, without being taken by either you or Choiseul. -I prefer you to Choiseul, not so much because you offer me Vincennes -in exchange for La Bastille, but because you are the better gentleman. -Monsieur Lavenne, I place myself and my sword in your hands. Arrest me.”</p> - -<p>He rose from the table, flung a louis on the cloth to pay his score. -Then, taking his hat, he left the café with his captor.</p> - -<p>In this fashion did de Sartines rope in and tame without -resistance a man whose capture, by Choiseul, might have involved -his—Sartines’—destruction. For Rochefort, angry with the Dubarrys and -incensed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> against Camille Fontrailles, was now the danger spot in the -surroundings of the Minister of Police, Rochefort and Ferminard—who -was already in the safe custody of Captain Pierre Cousin, the governor -of Vincennes.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_II_CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">CAPTAIN ROUX</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">LAVENNE left the café, followed by Rochefort. They passed down the -street to the corner, where, drawn up at the pavement, stood a closed -carriage.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “this is a police carriage, and as such will -be able to leave the Porte St. Antoine—which, as you know, is the gate -leading to Vincennes—without question or examination.”</p> - -<p>“So I am to make my escape from the Bastille in a police carriage,” -laughed Rochefort. “Well, let us enter.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me, monsieur, but I cannot go with you. I have to go to your -rooms and make a perquisition, an examination for papers, and so -on. Were I not to do this in person, it would be done by some fool, -perhaps, who might find undesirable things and talk, or play in some -other way into the hands of Monsieur de Choiseul. As for me, you may -trust that I will respect all your private correspondence.”</p> - -<p>“It is all burnt, my dear Monsieur Lavenne. However, make what search -you will. But am I to go alone to Vincennes—and what shall I say to -this charming governor you spoke of?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, you are to go under strict arrest and masked. Captain -Roux is in the carriage; he is rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> dull-witted, but has no tongue, -so he will not bore you.”</p> - -<p>“And will I see you at Vincennes?”</p> - -<p>“Possibly, monsieur. And now let me say at once that my advice to -you is patience. I do not hide at all from you, monsieur, that I am -your friend. That morning when you invited me to drink wine with you -whilst you breakfasted, showed me a gentleman, whom I am delighted to -be of service to, always remembering that my first services are due -to Monsieur de Sartines, my master. I will look after your interests -whilst not disregarding his. And now, monsieur, into the carriage, -quick, for delay is full of danger here in the open street.”</p> - -<p>“I thank you,” said Rochefort, “I have absolute confidence in all -you do and say. Well, <em>au revoir</em>, Monsieur Lavenne, and now for the -acquaintance of Monsieur le Capitaine Roux.”</p> - -<p>He entered the carriage, the door of which Lavenne had opened.</p> - -<p>“Captain Roux,” said Lavenne, “this is the prisoner, La Porte. Whilst -using him as a gentleman, keep him strictly guarded; and, above all, -let no man see his face till he is safely at Vincennes. You have the -mask. Monsieur La Porte will not object to your putting it upon him for -the journey.”</p> - -<p>He shut the door and called to the driver, “Vincennes.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort, face to face with the redoubtable Captain Roux, broke into a -laugh, which found no echo from the other.</p> - -<p>Roux was a stout man who never laughed, an earnest-minded machine, if -I may be allowed the term; he had also, to use Lavenne’s expression, -no tongue. The genius of de Sartines was never better shown than in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> -his selection of these two men for the arrest of Rochefort—Lavenne to -persuade him to accept arrest and be conveyed to Vincennes, Roux to -convey him.</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur le Capitaine,” said Rochefort, as the carriage started, -“it seems that we are to make a little journey together.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” replied the other, “I wish to be in every way agreeable to -you and so fulfil my orders in that respect, but I am forbidden to talk -to you.”</p> - -<p>“And yet you are talking to me, my dear sir.”</p> - -<p>“I was only making a statement of my orders, monsieur. And now, if you -will permit me, this is the mask.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort took the grey silk mask and examined it, then, with a laugh, -he put it on. It was fixed with strings which tied behind the head, and -he had good reason to thank de Sartines’ forethought in supplying it; -for at the Porte St. Antoine, when the carriage stopped for a moment, -one of the guards, despite the warning of the coachman, pushed aside -the curtain of the window and popped his head in.</p> - -<p>“Whom have we here?” said he.</p> - -<p>Roux, in reply, struck the man a blow on the face with his clenched -fist.</p> - -<p>Then, leaning out of the window, he talked to the guards. He asked them -did they not know a carriage of the Hôtel de Sartines when they saw it, -and spoke to them about their intelligence, questioned their ancestry -and ordered the arrest of the unfortunate, whose nose was streaming -blood. Then he sank back, and the carriage drove on.</p> - -<p>“Ah, monsieur,” cried the delighted Rochefort, from behind his mask, -“I have never heard anything quite like that before. I would give the -liberty which I do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> not possess to be able to curse like that—and they -said you had no tongue! Tell me, was it by training you arrived at this -perfection, or was it a natural gift?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Roux, “I am forbidden to speak to you.”</p> - -<p>The carriage rolled on, leaving the old Hôtel of the Black Musketeers -on the right, and the Bastille and the Porte St. Antoine safely behind. -Rochefort, seated beside his silent companion, said nothing more, at -least with his tongue. The silence of Captain Roux might be a check -to conversation, but it lent itself completely to that form of mental -conversation which Villon has so well exemplified in the Debate between -his heart and body.</p> - -<p>Commonsense and M. de Rochefort were having a few words together, and -commonsense was doing most of the talking.</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur de Rochefort,” said Commonsense, “and here we are in -a police carriage, at last, being driven to his Majesty’s fortress of -Vincennes; and all on account of Politics—that is to say, a woman. You -have known a hundred women, yet they have never succeeded in dragging -you into Politics. How did this one manage it? You lost your heart -to her. That is precisely what happened, and now you have lost your -liberty as well as your heart; next thing, you will lose your estates, -then you will take this Choiseul by the neck and strangle him, and then -you will lose your head—and all through a woman.</p> - -<p>“You have made a fool of yourself, Monsieur de Rochefort. Yesterday, -you were free as a butterfly, the whole world lay before you, you did -not know the meaning of the word Liberty. Well, you are to learn the -meaning of that word, and the lesson promises to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> be a curious one. You -are not Choiseul’s prisoner, you are not Sartines’ prisoner, you are -not even yourself. You are Monsieur La Porte, and you are being tucked -away in Vincennes, hidden, just as a man might hide an incriminating -letter in a desk. Why is Sartines so anxious to hide you? Is it not -that he fears that you may be found, and if this fear does not fade -away in his mind, it is quite on the cards that you may never be found.</p> - -<p>“And you can do nothing as yet, only wait. Monsieur Lavenne is your -friend, and it seems to me he is the only friend you have got in the -world.”</p> - -<p>Commonsense is sometimes wrong, as in this instance.</p> - -<p>It had forgotten Javotte.</p> - -<p>Rochefort was aroused from his reverie by the stoppage of the carriage. -They had arrived at the main gate of Vincennes. The great fortress -towered above them, the battlements cutting the sky and showing the -silhouette of a passing sentry against the free blue of heaven.</p> - -<p>Rochefort heard the harsh voices of the guards interrogating the -coachman. Then the carriage passed on, rumbling across the drawbridge, -and drew up in the courtyard before the door of the entrance for -prisoners.</p> - -<p>Rochefort got out and, following Captain Roux and being followed in -turn by a soldier, passed through the doorway down a corridor to the -reception-room. This was a bleak and formal place, the old guard-room -of the fortress, where the stands for pikes still remained and the -slings for arquebuses; but of pikes and pikemen, arquebuses or -arbalètes, nothing now remained, their places being taken by desks, -books and manuscripts, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> a clerk dry as parchment, who was seated -behind one of the desks, and who, having entered all particulars in -a book, handed Captain Roux a receipt for Monsieur de Rochefort, as -though that gentleman had been a bundle of goods.</p> - -<p>Roux, having put the receipt in his belt, turned on his heel and, -without a word, left the room. Rochefort, left alone with the clerk and -the soldier, turned to the clerk.</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur,” said Rochefort, “it seems to me that Monsieur le -Capitaine Roux has left his good manners with his tongue at the Hôtel -de Sartines; and he is in such a hurry back to find them that he has -forgotten to introduce us properly. I do not even know your name.”</p> - -<p>The clerk wrote something on a piece of paper, and handed it to the -soldier.</p> - -<p>“Come, monsieur,” said the soldier, touching Rochefort on the arm.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Rochefort, still addressing the clerk, “there is a -mistake somewhere.”</p> - -<p>“In what way?”</p> - -<p>“In this way, monsieur. When I consented to come here as the guest of -Monsieur de Sartines, I did so on the understanding that I was to be -treated as a gentleman. I demand to see Captain Pierre Cousin, the -governor of Vincennes.”</p> - -<p>“He is absent.”</p> - -<p>“When does he return?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said the clerk, “it is not for a prisoner to ask questions.”</p> - -<p>“But it is for a clerk to reply. <em>Mordieu!</em> it seems to me you do not -know to whom you are talking. Come, your master, when does he return<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>The man of parchment half rose from his chair. Then he sat down again. -He had, in fact, a special despatch from Sartines on his table giving -instructions as to Rochefort’s treatment. He swallowed his anger, and -took a different tone.</p> - -<p>“The governor of Vincennes returns this evening; he will be informed -that you wish to see him. And now, monsieur, our interview is ended. I -am busy.”</p> - -<p>“Good,” said Rochefort, turning on his heel. Following the soldier, he -left the room.</p> - -<p>This same soldier was the gaoler on duty by day, whose business it was -to receive prisoners, accompany them before the governor or clerk, -and then to see them safely incarcerated according to the orders of -the governor. Vincennes was much more of a military prison than the -Bastille. Soldiers were the gaolers, and the day went to the roll of -drums and the blare of bugles, rather than to the clang of bells. -Vincennes was more cheerful than the Bastille, but was reckoned less -healthy. Madame de Rambouillet it was who said that the cell in which -Marshal Ornano died was worth its weight in arsenic; yet of the two -prisons, Vincennes was preferable, if there can be such a thing as -choice between prisons.</p> - -<p>Rochefort followed his guide down the corridor, and then up a circular -stone staircase to the floor above. Here they passed down another -corridor, till they reached a door on the right which the sergeant -opened, disclosing a room, barely furnished, yet not altogether -cheerless.</p> - -<p>The grated window gave a sweeping view of the country; to the left, -pressing one’s nose against the glass, one could get a glimpse of the -outskirts of Paris; immediately below lay the castle moat, and running<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span> -past the moat, the Paris road bordered with poplar trees.</p> - -<p>Rochefort went to the window and looked out, whilst Sergeant Bonvallot, -for that was the name of his guardian, dismissed the soldier who had -followed them, closed the door, and began to make arrangements for the -comfort of his visitor.</p> - -<p>He inspected the water-pitcher to see if it were filled, the bed -coverings to see if they were thick enough, and the sheets to see -if they were clean. He knew perfectly well that all was in order, -but Rochefort had the appearance of a man who would pay for little -attentions, and they were cheap.</p> - -<p>“There, monsieur,” said Bonvallot, when he had finished, “I have -made you as comfortable as I can. Your dinner will be served at five -o’clock, your supper at nine, and should you feel cold a fire is -permitted, also writing materials, should you need them—but for those -you will have to pay.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort turned from the window and contemplated his gaoler fully, and -for the first time.</p> - -<p>Bonvallot was a large man, with small eyes and a face that suggested -good-humour. He would have made a capital innkeeper.</p> - -<p>“Why, upon my word,” said Rochefort, who knew at once how to tackle his -man, “you seem to me an admirable fellow. My own servant could not have -done better, and when I come to leave here, you will not have cause to -regret your efforts on my behalf. Your name?”</p> - -<p>“Bonvallot, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur Bonvallot, here is a half louis to drink my health, and -when my dinner is served, let me have a bottle of your best Beaune, -and a fire, certainly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> there is no companion like a fire, and as for -writing materials, we will see about that to-morrow. Should there be -any books in this old inn of yours, Monsieur Bonvallot, you may bring -them to me. I am not a great reader, but who knows what one may become -with so much time on one’s hands, as it is likely I may have here—Is -your inn pretty full?”</p> - -<p>“Fairly so, monsieur,” replied Bonvallot, falling into the vein of the -other. “Though no guests have arrived for some days, still, those who -are here remain a long time.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! they could not pay any better compliment to the house. Am I alone -on this corridor?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, in the room next to yours there is another guest. <em>Ma -foi!</em> he is not difficult to feed either; he seems to live on pens, ink -and paper.”</p> - -<p>“He must suffer from indigestion, this guest of yours.”</p> - -<p>“I do not know what he suffers from, monsieur, but this I do know: when -I bring him his food he makes me listen to what he has written, which I -cannot understand in the least.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, he must be a philosopher, then.”</p> - -<p>“I do not know, monsieur. I only know that I do not understand him.”</p> - -<p>“Then he is most certainly a philosopher. Well, Monsieur Bonvallot, -I will not keep you from your duties. Do not forget the Beaune; and -presently, perhaps, you will be able to assist me in getting clean -linen and so forth, for I came here in such a hurry, that I forgot to -order my valet to pack my valise.”</p> - -<p>“We will arrange about that, monsieur,” replied Bonvallot.</p> - -<p>He went out, shutting and locking the door, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> Rochefort was left -alone with his thoughts. He walked to the window again and looked out. -Then he opened the glass sash. The walls at the openings of these upper -windows were bevelled, else each window would have been but the opening -of a tunnel six feet long. They were guarded each by a single iron -bar, and the glass sash opened inwardly. Rochefort had as yet no idea -of flight, and he was, perhaps, the only prisoner who had ever looked -through that window without measuring the thickness of the bar, or -estimating the height of the window from the ground.</p> - -<p>He was quite content with his position for the moment. Lavenne’s words -were still ringing in his ears, and Lavenne’s face was still before -him. Rochefort had never feared a man in his life, yet Lavenne had -brought him almost to the point of fearing Choiseul.</p> - -<p>At bottom, M. de Rochefort was not a fool, and he recognized that -whilst Life and Death are simply toys for a brave man to play with, -imprisonment for life is a thing for the bravest man to dread. -Vincennes was saving him from Choiseul, and as he stood at the window -whistling a tune of the day, he followed Choiseul with his mind’s eye, -Choiseul ransacking Paris, Choiseul posting spies on all the roads, -Choiseul urging on the imperturbable and sphinx-like de Sartines, and -Sartines receiving Choiseul’s messages without a smile.</p> - -<p>He was standing like this, when a voice made him start and turn round.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur de Rochefort,” said the voice, which sounded as though the -speaker were in the same room as the prisoner.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mon Dieu!</em>” cried Rochefort. “Who is that speaking, and where are -you?”</p> - -<p>“Here, Monsieur de Rochefort, in the next chamber<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> to yours. I heard -your voice and recognized it talking to that fat-headed Bonvallot, and -I said there must be a hole in the wall somewhere to let a voice come -through like that; so I searched for it and found it. The hole is under -my bed. A large stone has been removed, evidently by some industrious -rat of a prisoner, who never could complete his business. Search for -the hole on your side, Monsieur de Rochefort.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort pulled his bed out from the wall, and there, surely enough, -was a hole about a foot square in the wainscoting. He lay down on his -face and tried to look through into the next chamber, but the wall was -three feet thick and the head of his interlocutor on the other side -blocked the light, so that he could see nothing.</p> - -<p>“Here is the hole,” said he, “but I can see nothing. Who are you?”</p> - -<p>“Who am I? Did you not recognize my voice? <em>Hé, pardieu</em>, I am -Ferminard. Who else would I be?”</p> - -<p>“Ferminard! Just heaven! and what on earth are you doing here?”</p> - -<p>“Doing here? I am hiding from Monsieur de Choiseul. What else would I -be doing here?”</p> - -<p>“Hiding from Choiseul! Explain yourself, Monsieur Ferminard.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur Rochefort, it was this way. After that confounded -presentation, I had an interview with Monsieur Lavenne, one of Monsieur -de Sartines’ agents, and as a result of that interview, I consented to -place myself under the protection of Monsieur de Sartines for a short -time. You can very well guess, monsieur, the reason why, especially as -it was brought to my knowledge that Monsieur de Choiseul had wind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> of -my hand in that affair, and was about to search for me.”</p> - -<p>“Oho!” said Rochefort. “That is why you are here.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, and now in return for my confidence, may I ask why you -are in the same position and under the same roof?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I am here for just the same reason, Monsieur Ferminard.”</p> - -<p>“You are hiding from Monsieur de Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“Precisely.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu</em>, that is droll.”</p> - -<p>“You think so?”</p> - -<p>“It is more than droll. For, see here, Monsieur de Rochefort, we are -two prisoners, we neither of us wish to escape, yet we have the means.”</p> - -<p>“Explain yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur, I have only been here a very short time, yet, being an -indefatigable worker, the moment I arrived I demanded writing materials -and set to work upon a drama that has long been in my mind. Now it is -my habit when working to walk to and fro and to act, as it were, my -work even before it is on paper.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Rochefort, laughing, “I heard you once; go on.”</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur, I chanced to stamp upon the floor whilst impersonating -the character of Raymond, the villain of my piece, and the floor, where -I stamped upon it, sounded hollow. ‘Ah ha!’ said I, ‘what is this?’ I -found a flag loose and raised it, and what did I find there but a hole.”</p> - -<p>“Yes?”</p> - -<p>“And in the hole, a knotted rope some forty feet long, a staple, and a -big sou<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Ma foi!</em> But what do you mean by a big sou?”</p> - -<p>“Why, monsieur, a big sou is a sou that has been split in two pieces -and hollowed out, then a thread is made round the edges so that the two -halves can be screwed together, so as to form a little box.”</p> - -<p>“And what can be held in a box so small?”</p> - -<p>“A saw, monsieur, made from a watch-spring, a little thing enough, but -able to cut through the thickest bar of iron.”</p> - -<p>“And does your big sou hold such a saw?”</p> - -<p>“It does, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Ciel!</em> what a marvel, what industry; and to think that some poor -devil of a prisoner made all that, and got his rope ready, and then -perhaps died or was removed before he could use it!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, he had everything ready. The thing is a little tragedy -in itself, and is even completed by this hole.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort laughed.</p> - -<p>“And how can a hole complete a tragedy, Monsieur Ferminard?”</p> - -<p>“Why, quite simply, Monsieur de Rochefort. The window in this chamber -is too narrow to permit the passage of a man’s body, so, doubtless, the -prisoner was anxious to reach your chamber. Of what dimensions is your -window?”</p> - -<p>“Large enough to get through for an ordinary-sized man.”</p> - -<p>“There, you see that the unfortunate was justified, and we may even say -that the unfortunate must have had some knowledge of your chamber and -the dimensions of your window. Well, Monsieur de Rochefort, his labour -was not all lost, for though neither of us wish to escape, we both -wish to talk to the other. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> will have much pleasant conversation -together, you and I. Up to this, I have had no one to speak to but -that fat-head of a Bonvallot, a man absolutely destitute of parts, -who does not know the difference, it seems to me, between a tragedy -and a comedy, and to whom a strophe of poetry and the creaking of a -cart-wheel amount to the same thing.”</p> - -<p>“I assure you, Monsieur Ferminard, the good Bonvallot and I are much -in the same case. I know nothing about poetry, and I cannot tell a -stage-play from a washing-bill. So in whatever conversations we have -together, let us talk of anything but the theatre.”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary, Monsieur de Rochefort, since you confess yourself -ignorant of one of the most sublime branches of art, it will be my -pleasure to open for you the doors of a Paradise where all may enter, -so be that they are properly led. But, hush! I hear a sound in the -corridor. Replace your bed.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort rose to his feet and replaced the bed. Scarcely had he done -so, when the door opened, and Bonvallot appeared, bearing some clean -linen, two towels, and some toilet necessaries.</p> - -<p>“Here, monsieur,” said Bonvallot, “are several shirts new laundered, -and other articles, which I have scraped together for your comfort. -Half a louis will pay for them.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks, put them on the bed; and now tell me, which of the guests of -your precious inn occupied my chamber last.”</p> - -<p>“Why, monsieur, this chamber has not had a tenant for two years and a -half. Then it was occupied by Monsieur de Thumery.”</p> - -<p>“And what became of Monsieur de Thumery?”</p> - -<p>“He was removed to the next chamber, monsieur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, and is he there still?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, he died a month ago.”</p> - -<p>“What sort of man was he, this Monsieur de Thumery?”</p> - -<p>“A very delicate man, monsieur, and very pious—one who scarcely ever -spoke.”</p> - -<p>“He never tried to escape, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu!</em> no, Monsieur, he was as gentle as a lamb. He did -nothing but read the lives of the saints.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, and here is your half louis. And what is that book on the -bed?”</p> - -<p>“Why, I brought it with the clothes, monsieur, as you said you wished -for books. It belonged to Monsieur de Thumery. It is not much, some -religious book or other—still, it is a book.”</p> - -<p>He went off, and Rochefort picked up M. de Thumery’s religious book. It -was the works of François Rabelais, printed by Tollard of the Rue de la -Harpe, in the year 1723.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="chapter">BOOK III</h2> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_III_CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE POISONING OF ATALANTA</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">MEANWHILE, Lavenne, having watched the carriage containing Rochefort -and Captain Roux taking its departure, turned and took his way to -Rochefort’s rooms in the Rue de Longueville. The Rochefort affair was -only an incident in his busy profession, yet whilst he was upon it, it -held his whole life and ambition in life. He was made in such a manner, -that the moment filled all his purview without blinding him. He could -see the moment, yet he could also see consequences—that is to say, the -future, and causes—that is to say, the past.</p> - -<p>In his seven years’ work under Sartines, he had learned the fact -that these social and political cases like that of Rochefort almost -invariably produce, or are allied to, other cases, either engaging -or soon to engage the attention of the police. Even in the spacious -Court of France, people were too tightly packed for one to move in an -eccentric manner without producing far-reaching disturbances, and he -was soon to prove this fact in the case of M. de Rochefort.</p> - -<p>Having reached Rochefort’s house, he was admitted by the concierge. He -passed upstairs to the rooms occupied by the Count, ordered the valet -to take his place on the stairs, and should any callers arrive, to -show<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> them up. Then, having shown his credentials as an agent of the -Hôtel de Sartines, he began his perquisition.</p> - -<p>There was nothing to find and he expected nothing, yet he proceeded on -his business with the utmost care and the most painstaking minuteness.</p> - -<p>In the middle of his work, he was interrupted by the valet, who knocked -at the door.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said the valet, “there is a young girl who has called. She -is waiting outside.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, she is waiting—well, show her in.”</p> - -<p>The man disappeared, and returned in a moment ushering in Javotte.</p> - -<p>Lavenne looked up from some papers which he was examining. Javotte’s -appearance rather astonished him. Young, fresh, and evidently -respectable, he could not for a moment place her among possible -visitors to Rochefort. Then it occurred to him that she might be the -maid of some society woman sent with a message, and, without rising -from his seat, he pointed to a chair.</p> - -<p>“What is your business here, mademoiselle?” asked Lavenne.</p> - -<p>“My business, monsieur, is to pay the last month’s wages of Monsieur de -Rochefort’s valet. I have the money here with me. May I ask whom I have -the pleasure of addressing?”</p> - -<p>“You are addressing an agent of the Hôtel de Sartines. Place the money -on the table, mademoiselle, and it shall be handed to the valet. And -now a moment’s conversation with you, please. Who, may I ask, entrusted -you with this commission?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” replied Javotte, “that is my business entirely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>Lavenne leaned back in his chair.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle, I am going to ask you a question. Are you a friend of -Monsieur de Rochefort?”</p> - -<p>“Indeed, I am, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Well, then, if you are a friend of his, I may tell you that I also am -his friend, though I am, at the present moment, making an examination -of his effects. So in his interests please be frank with me.”</p> - -<p>Javotte looked at the quiet and self-contained man before her. Youth -and Innocence, those two great geniuses, proclaimed him trustworthy, -and she cast away her reserve.</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur, what do you want me to say?”</p> - -<p>“Just this, I want you to tell me what you know of this gentleman. What -you say may not be worth a <em>denier</em> to me, or it may be useful. You -need say, moreover, nothing to his disadvantage, if you choose. Well?”</p> - -<p>“I know nothing to his disadvantage, monsieur. He is the bravest man in -the world, the most kind, and he saved me but the other night from two -men who would have done me an injury——” Then catching fire, she told -volubly the whole story of the occurrence on the night of the Duc de -Choiseul’s ball.</p> - -<p>Lavenne listened attentively.</p> - -<p>Sartines had already given him Camus’ story of the killing of -Choiseul’s agent. Javotte was now giving him the true story. He -instantly saw the facts of the case, and the character of Camus.</p> - -<p>“And you say, mademoiselle, that Monsieur de Rochefort, returning from -the chase of those ruffians, one of whom he killed, by the way, found -Monsieur Camus offering you an insult and struck him to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span> ground. -Did Monsieur Camus not resent that action?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, he did nothing, but he turned when he was going away and -shook his finger at Monsieur de Rochefort.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Mademoiselle Javotte, one question more: on whose service were -you carrying that letter of which the robbers wished to relieve you? -Speak without fear, whatever you say will do Monsieur de Rochefort no -harm.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, it was a letter addressed to Madame Dubarry.”</p> - -<p>“Ah ha! That is all I wish to know. Well, say nothing of all this -to anyone else, and should you have anything more to communicate to -me, come to my private address, No. 10, Rue Picpus; ask for Monsieur -Lavenne. That is my name. And remember this, as far as it is in my -power, I am the friend of Monsieur de Rochefort.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, monsieur—and may I ask one question? Do you know where -Monsieur de Rochefort is now, and is he safe?”</p> - -<p>“I cannot tell you where he is, but I believe he is safe. In fact, I -may be as frank with you as you have been with me, and say he is safe.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“One moment,” said Lavenne, as she rose to go. “May I ask your address, -should I by any possibility need it?”</p> - -<p>“I am in the service of Mademoiselle Fontrailles, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, you are in the service of Mademoiselle Fontrailles. Well, -Mademoiselle Javotte, say nothing to anyone of our meeting, say -nothing of our conversation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> say nothing of Monsieur de Rochefort; -but keep your eyes and ears open, and if you wish to serve Monsieur de -Rochefort, let me have any news you may be able to bring me concerning -him.”</p> - -<p>“Now, I will swear that girl is in love with the Count,” said Lavenne -to himself, when she had departed, “and the Count, according to -my master, is in love with Mademoiselle Fontrailles, who has the -reputation of being incapable of love. Mademoiselle Fontrailles is a -bosom friend of Madame Dubarry, and Madame Dubarry’s letter it was -which caused the agents of Monsieur de Choiseul to attack Mademoiselle -Javotte, and Monsieur de Rochefort to kill one of those precious -agents. Mademoiselle Javotte has already proved to me that Monsieur -le Comte Camus has lied in giving his evidence against Monsieur de -Rochefort. The case widens, like those circles that form when one -throws a stone into a pond. Well, let it continue to widen, and we will -see what we will see.”</p> - -<p>He finished his examination of Rochefort’s rooms, paid the valet off, -locked the place up and started for the Hôtel de Sartines.</p> - -<p>Monsieur de Sartines was seated in the octagon chamber on the first -floor; he was busy writing at the famous bureau of a hundred drawers, -which contained in its recesses half the secrets of France, and which -had belonged to his predecessor, Monsieur D’Ombreval.</p> - -<p>He looked up when Lavenne was announced, finished the letter on which -he was engaged, and then turned to the agent.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said de Sartines, “what about Monsieur de Rochefort?”</p> - -<p>“He is at Vincennes by this time, monsieur. The affair was a little -difficult, but I made him see reason,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span> and he made no objection to -accompanying Captain Roux. I have examined his rooms and found nothing. -I have also discovered that the evidence given against him by Count -Camus is far from being truthful.”</p> - -<p>He told of Javotte and her story in a few words.</p> - -<p>“Quite so,” replied Sartines; “and you know perfectly well that it does -not matter a button whether this agent was killed by foul or fair play, -or whether Count Camus has lied or not. The case is just as bad against -Monsieur Rochefort from Monsieur de Choiseul’s point of view, and that -is everything. No matter, we have Rochefort in safe keeping.</p> - -<p>“Now to another business. Prepare to start at once for Versailles. -You will inquire into the poisoning of this dog, which has given me -more trouble and annoyance than the poisoning of Monsieur de Choiseul -himself would have given me. I have inquired into it personally. I -have put Valjean on the affair; the matter is as dark as ever, so -just see what you can make of it. Here are all the papers relating -to the business, reports and so forth, study them on the way and use -expedition.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur will give me a free hand in the matter?”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely. And here is a thousand francs in gold; you may need money. -Order a carriage for the journey, and tell them not to spare the -horses. I am in a hurry for your report, find wings; but, above all, -find the criminal.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur. It will be a difficult matter. The poisoning of a -man is a simple affair, the evidence simply shouts round it for the -person who has ears to hear. A dog is different. But I will find the -criminal—unless——”</p> - -<p>“Unless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“Unless, monsieur, the dog poisoned itself by eating some garbage.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. Atalanta was very delicate in her feeding. No, it was the work -of some scoundrel, of that I am sure.”</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur, we will see,” said Lavenne.</p> - -<p>He bowed to the Minister of Police, and left the room.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_III_CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">MONSIEUR BROMMARD</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">DE SARTINES had no need to urge expedition on Lavenne. Lavenne always -moved as quickly as possible between two points. After the King and -de Sartines, Lavenne was perhaps the best and most quickly served man -in France. The carriages of the Hôtel de Sartines were always ready -and never broke down, the horses of the Hôtel de Sartines never went -lame, the grooms, the veterinary surgeons, and the coachmen employed by -the Ministry of Police, were men who had been tried and tested, men, -moreover, who knew that drunkenness, insubordination or neglect would -be visited by imprisonment, not dismissal.</p> - -<p>The Minister of Police knew the value of speed, and since the safety of -France might depend upon the horses of the Minister of Police, he did -not boast when he made the statement that his horses were the swiftest -in France.</p> - -<p>In five minutes’ time, after giving the order, Lavenne was seated in -a closed carriage drawn by two powerful Mecklenburg horses, and the -carriage was leaving the courtyard of the Hôtel de Sartines and taking -its way towards the Faubourg St. Honoré. During the journey, Lavenne -studied the papers given to him by his master, pages and pages of -reports. One might have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> fancied that the matter had to do with the -assassination of an emperor, rather than the poisoning of a dog.</p> - -<p>Lavenne read the whole of these papers and reports carefully, and then, -folding them, placed them in his pocket.</p> - -<p>According to them, everyone possible in connection with Versailles, the -Trianons, and even with Luciennes, had been questioned and examined -without result. The whole thing seemed to Lavenne rather clumsy. This -questioning of individuals could bring little result. To the question, -“Did you poison the dog?” could come but one answer, “No.” And the -poisoner was unlikely to have acted in the presence of a witness. The -thing that did strike Lavenne as peculiar, was the fact that there had -been no accusations; it was just the case for false accusations, yet -there were none.</p> - -<p>At Versailles, having ordered the carriage to be kept in waiting, he -crossed the park to the Trianons. Arrived at the Grand Trianon, he -walked round to the kitchen entrance. Here there was great bustle -and movement, goods arriving from tradesmen in Versailles and being -received by the steward, scullions darting hither and thither, and -everyone talking. In the kitchen, it was the same.</p> - -<p>Lavenne knew everyone, or at least was known by everyone, especially -by Brommard, the master cook, who, magnificent in paper cap and white -apron, was directing operations.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Monsieur Lavenne,” said Brommard, “and what happy chance brings -you here to-day?”</p> - -<p>“Why, I had some business at the Petit Trianon, and I just walked -across to see if you were alive and well. <em>Ma foi!</em> Monsieur Brommard, -but you are not growing thinner these days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>Brommard heaved a sigh.</p> - -<p>“No, Monsieur Lavenne, I am not growing thinner, though if worry made -a man thin, I would be a rake, what between tradesmen who do not send -provisions in time and cooks who spoil them when they arrive. I have -to supervise everything, and I have only two eyes instead of the two -hundred that I require.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur Brommard, we all have our worries, even his Majesty, -who, I fear, is in trouble over the death of his favourite hound, -Atalanta.”</p> - -<p>Brommard made a motion with his hand.</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>ma foi!</em> don’t speak to me about that business. Why, Monsieur -Lavenne, I was had up myself and questioned on the matter by Monsieur -de Sartines. As though I had poisoned the brute! I said to him, ‘I know -nothing of the matter, but since Atalanta was served every day at the -King’s table when he was at Versailles, she may have died of Ribot’s -cookery’; for Ribot, as you know, is now the chef at Versailles, a -gentleman who stole the recipe of my Sauce Noailles and gave it forth -under the name of Sauce à la Ribot. Put his name to my sauce! God’s -death, Monsieur Lavenne, a man who will steal another man’s sauce is -not above poisoning another man’s dog. Not that I accuse Ribot, poor -fool; he has not the spirit to poison a louse, and they say his wife -beats him with his own rolling-pin. I accuse him of nothing but theft -and stupidity, certainly not of poisoning his Majesty’s dog wilfully. -Besides, Monsieur Lavenne, the dog was not poisoned, in my opinion.”</p> - -<p>“Give us your opinion, Monsieur Brommard.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it is this way, Monsieur Lavenne—What does all cookery rest -on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“I am sure I don’t know, unless it is the shoulders of the chef.”</p> - -<p>“No, Monsieur Lavenne, all cookery rests on an egg. The egg is the -atlas that supports the world of gastronomy, the chef is the slave -of the egg. Think, Monsieur Lavenne, what is the masterpiece of -French cookery, the dish that outlives all other dishes, the thing -that is found on his Majesty’s table no less than upon the tables -of the Bourgeoisie, the thing that is as French as a Frenchman, and -which expresses the spirit of our people as no other article of food -could express it—the Omelette. Could you make an Omelette without -breaking eggs? Aha! tell me that. Then cast your mind’s eye over this -extraordinary Monsieur Egg and all his antics and evolutions. Now he -permits himself to be boiled plain, and even like that, without frills, -naked and in a state of nature, he is excellent, for you will remember -that the Marquis de Noailles, when he was dying and almost past food, -called for what?—an egg, plainly boiled.</p> - -<p>“Now he consents to appear in all ways from poached to <em>perdu</em>—an -excellent recipe for which is to be found in my early edition of the -works of Taillevent, who, as you know, was master-cook to his Majesty -King Charles V.</p> - -<p>“Now he is the soul of a <em>vol-au-vent</em>, now of a sauce; not a pie-crust -fit to eat but stands by virtue of my lord the egg, and should all the -hens in the world commit suicide, to-morrow every chef in France worthy -of the name would fall on his spit, as Vatel fell on his sword, and -with more reason, for fish is but a course in a dinner, whereas the egg -is the cement that holds all the castle of cookery together.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Pardieu</em>, Monsieur Brommard,” said Lavenne,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> laughing, “you are -quite a philosopher, and I shall certainly take off my hat to the next -hen I meet. But, tell me, what has an egg to do with the poisoning of -Atalanta?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing, Monsieur Lavenne; God forbid that it should. I was about to -say that, just as all cookery stands on an egg, so does the whole world -stand on commonsense; and it is not commonsense to think that any man -would poison Atalanta, who was a gentle beast, on purpose to spite his -Majesty. Atalanta, in my opinion, poisoned herself. Dogs are not like -cats. If you will observe, a cat is very nice in her feeding. Offer her -even a piece of fish, and she will sniff it to make sure that it is in -good condition and not poisonous, before she will touch it. Whereas -dogs eat everything.”</p> - -<p>“Dogs eat roses,” said a small voice.</p> - -<p>It was Brommard’s little son, who, dressed in a white cap and apron, -was serving his apprenticeship as a scullion. He had drawn close to his -father, and had listened solemnly to the discourse about eggs.</p> - -<p>Brommard glanced down and laughed, then he excused himself for a moment -to supervise the work of one of the under-cooks, who was larding a fowl.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said Lavenne, “dogs eat roses, do they? And how do you know?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said the child, “I have seen Atalanta, the beautiful dog -of his Majesty, snap at a rose. I told my father when they were saying -that Atalanta was poisoned, and I said that I had seen Atalanta eat a -rose, and that perhaps the rose had killed her, and he laughed. But -dogs do eat roses.”</p> - -<p>“And where did you see Atalanta eat this rose?”</p> - -<p>“It was near Les Onze Arpents, monsieur. A gentleman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span> and a lady were -walking together, and he was holding a rose in his hand. The rose was -hanging down, so, and the dog, who was following them, sniffed at the -rose and then bit it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes?”</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur, the gentleman, when he saw what the dog had done, -threw the rose away behind his back into some bushes; the lady did not -see, she was talking and laughing.”</p> - -<p>“What day was this?”</p> - -<p>“The day before Atalanta died, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“What was the gentleman like?”</p> - -<p>“Very ugly, monsieur, and pitted with the smallpox.”</p> - -<p>“And the lady?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know, monsieur, but she walked with a limp.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, well,” said Lavenne, “dogs may eat roses, but roses do not poison -dogs; so I would advise you to forget what you saw, or the ugly -gentleman may be angry with you. You seem a bright boy, and here is -something to buy sweets with. You are learning to be a cook, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said the child, gravely, “I am a cook. I can lard a fowl -and make an omelette and a mayonnaise, and I have committed to memory -the rules and recipes of twenty-three sauces out of the two hundred -and twenty-three that my father knows. Yet, all the same, I must serve -my apprenticeship as a scullion, cleaning pots and pans and preparing -vegetables and fish and game. But I do not grumble.”</p> - -<p>Little Brommard—destined to be the cook of Napoleon—put the coin -Lavenne had given him in his pocket, and, thanking the latter, went -off to supervise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span> another scullion who was at work on some vegetables, -whilst Lavenne, bidding good-bye to Brommard <em>père</em>, took his departure.</p> - -<p>He took a side-path that led to the cottage of the chief gardener of -Trianon.</p> - -<p>That official happened to be in, and Lavenne invited him to put on his -hat and to come out for a moment’s conversation.</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur Lavenne, what can I do for you?” said the man, putting -on his coat as he came out, and latching the door behind him.</p> - -<p>“You can get a spade and take me to the place where you buried the dog -belonging to his Majesty. I see by the report that you were ordered to -bury it.”</p> - -<p>“You mean Atalanta, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“The same.”</p> - -<p>The gardener, without a word, went to the tool-house by the cottage -and took out a spade, then, shouldering the spade, he led the way to a -clear space amidst some bushes.</p> - -<p>“Now,” said Lavenne, “dig me up the remains of the animal. I wish to -examine them.”</p> - -<p>The gardener did as he was told, and Lavenne, on his knees, made a -minute examination of the mouth of the dog. The body of the animal, -lying in a light, dry soil, showed no trace of putrefaction, being, so -the gardener said, as fresh as when he buried it.</p> - -<p>Lavenne, having finished his inspection, rose to his feet, dusted -the soil from his knees, and having paid the man liberally for his -trouble, took his way to where the carriage was waiting to convey him -back to Paris. On the journey, he made some notes with a pencil in his -pocket-book.</p> - -<p>He had discovered the poisoner of Atalanta. Led<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> by the luck that -sometimes attends genius, or perhaps by the commonsense which made him -conduct his inquiry, not by direct interrogation, but by conversation -on things in general, he had accomplished in a few hours what Sartines -had failed to accomplish in several days.</p> - -<p>Arrived at the Hôtel de Sartines, he found his master absent and -Monsieur Beauregard acting in his stead. Beauregard was a big, -fine-looking man, one of the best swordsmen in France, fearless and -honest, but not of the highest intelligence as far as detective work -was concerned. Nor did Sartines use him for that business. Sartines -had made Beauregard his chief of staff because the latter had all the -qualities of a good organizer, the fidelity of a hound, and the rigid -business methods in which Sartines was lacking. He was also a fine -figure of a man, and so upheld the dignity of his position in the eyes -of the Court and the populace.</p> - -<p>Beauregard was a great friend of Lavenne.</p> - -<p>“So his Excellency is out,” said Lavenne. “Well, that is a pity, as I -have some news for him, and a request to make.”</p> - -<p>“And the news?” said Beauregard.</p> - -<p>“The news is, simply that I have found an indication as to the poisoner -of Atalanta.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu!</em> My dear Lavenne, if you can only put your finger on -that person, you will own the thanks of the entire staff. It is not -that a dog has been poisoned, or that the dog is the favourite dog of -the King, or rather, I should say, was the favourite dog of the King. -It is that the Hôtel de Sartines has been put to shame by a small -matter like this. Other failures one can hush up; other failures, -though, indeed, we make few enough, are forgotten; but the smell of -this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span> business seems to permeate everywhere; and the thing will not be -forgotten, simply because it is so small that it gives such a splendid -field for the little wits of Paris and the Court to exercise themselves -in.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Captain Beauregard,” said Lavenne, “the poisoning of Atalanta, -though seemingly a small enough affair, will, if I am not greatly -mistaken, be the centre of an affair big enough to satisfy even the -Hôtel de Sartines. I hope to put my hand on the poisoner, and in doing -so to clear Monsieur de Rochefort from the charge of being an assassin, -and also I hope to save a woman’s life.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em>” said Beauregard, “you are going to do a great many clever -things, then—— Tell me, am I in your secret?”</p> - -<p>“Why, yes, I don’t mind letting you know what is in my mind, though you -know how I hate telling of what I propose to do or propose to find. As -a matter of fact, you are the only man in France to whom I can talk, -and yet feel that I have not lost energy in so doing; for it is a -strange thing, but once one opens one’s mind to an ordinary person, a -blight seems to creep in on the precious thoughts, hopes or ambitions -that one cherishes in darkness. And I will tell you why it is different -with you. You do not criticize or throw doubts upon budding fancies. -Were I to open my mind to Monsieur de Sartines quite fully, he would -put his hand in and take out my most precious thoughts, turn them over, -criticize them, throw cold water upon them, perhaps, and put them -back—then they would be dying—or dead.”</p> - -<p>“I do not criticize you, Lavenne, because I have a lively feeling that -any criticism of mine would be an impertinence, at least on the work -of so close a reasoner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> as you are. Tell me, then, and I will repeat -nothing—Who was the poisoner of Atalanta?”</p> - -<p>“Count Camus.”</p> - -<p>Beauregard whistled.</p> - -<p>“And who is the lady whose life you are going to save?”</p> - -<p>“The Comtesse Camus.”</p> - -<p>“The man’s wife?”</p> - -<p>“Precisely.”</p> - -<p>“Good God!—and how is it threatened?”</p> - -<p>“By poison.”</p> - -<p>“And who is the prospective poisoner?”</p> - -<p>“Count Camus.”</p> - -<p>“Just heavens! Tell me, for I am vastly interested, how you found this -out?”</p> - -<p>“A few days ago—or, to be more precise, the day after Count Camus had -returned from a hunting expedition with Monsieur de Rochefort, he was -walking with his wife in the grounds of Trianon. He had brought with -him a prepared rose.”</p> - -<p>“A prepared rose?”</p> - -<p>“A rose poisoned with one of those subtle poisons, whose secret was -brought to France by the Italians in the time of King Charles IX. Once -prepared, these roses have to be kept under cover, enclosed in a box. -So kept, their virtue, or rather their vice, remains unimpaired for a -considerable time, but once removed from the box, it disappears in the -course of a few hours.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, but what is their power, and how is it used?”</p> - -<p>“Quite simply. The person who smells the perfume of the rose dies.”</p> - -<p>“Dies, simply from the perfume<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely, and as certainly as though he had drunk the Aqua Tofana of -the Florentines.”</p> - -<p>“Go on.”</p> - -<p>“Well, our man, walking with his wife in the grounds of the Trianon -close to Les Onze Arpents, took this rose from its box unseen by his -companion, and carrying it very gingerly, you may be sure, by the tip -of the stalk with the flower hanging downwards, was about to present -it laughingly to her, when Atalanta, who was following them, out of -caprice, or playfulness, or perhaps attracted by something in the scent -of the flower, made a snap at it. Camus, on feeling what had happened, -threw the ruined flower away behind his back into some bushes—and -Atalanta paid the penalty instead of the lady.”</p> - -<p>“You are sure of this?”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely.”</p> - -<p>“Can you prove it against the Count?”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least. Or, that is to say, not effectually. I could cover -him with suspicion, but that is useless.”</p> - -<p>“How, then, do you propose to proceed?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, my dear captain, if I were to tell you that, I would tell you what -I don’t exactly know.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t know what you are going to do?”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me. I do, but not in an exact manner. But I will tell you this. -My first move is to get into the house of Count Camus.”</p> - -<p>“On a warrant from de Sartines?”</p> - -<p>“Heavens, no, as a servant. We have a man in all the important houses, -and I believe one in the house of the Count.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly we have. You know that Sartines suspects him, and where -suspicion goes there our servants go also. Stay.” He rang a bell.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span></p> - -<p>When a clerk answered the summons, he gave him an order, and the clerk -returned in a few minutes with a huge book, bound in vellum and with a -brass lock.</p> - -<p>Beauregard took a bunch of keys from his pocket, selected one and -opened the book.</p> - -<p>He turned to the pages marked C, and ran his finger down the first -column for the space of three inches.</p> - -<p>“Yes. Jumeau is acting as pantry-man in the service of the Count.”</p> - -<p>“He is almost useless,” said Lavenne; “but let us be thankful that -he is there. Now let us send at once, and tell him that his mother -is dying and that he must come at once; his cousin—that is to say, -myself—is ready to take on his duties. As the cousin, I will take the -message myself. I have just left the service of Monsieur—shall we say, -Monsieur Gaston Le Roux?—he belongs to us. You will send a man round -to him at once for a testimonial. The pantry-man’s duty is to look -after the plate, to clean it, keep it in order, be responsible for it, -and to do a few light duties.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said Beauregard, “all that shall be done.”</p> - -<p>“And now,” said Lavenne, “I must go and dress for the part, and in an -hour, when the testimonial arrives, I will be ready. Let it be dated -last month, and let it be for two years’ service. I may not even want -it at all; they will be very glad, I should think, to accept Jumeau’s -cousin’s service whilst Jumeau is seeing after his sick mother, and so -save themselves the trouble of doing without a servant or hunting for -one. Still, it is as well to be prepared at all points.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you are right,” said Beauregard. “Well, good luck to you.”</p> - -<p>Lavenne took his departure and hurried round to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> his rooms in the Rue -Picpus. It was now seven o’clock in the evening. It had been a busy day -for him, but the work of that day was not over yet. When he arrived at -the house in the Rue Picpus, he found someone waiting for him. It was -Javotte.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Javotte, “when I spoke to you this morning, I did -not tell you quite all that I knew about the affairs of Monsieur de -Rochefort. There was something I held back, and I would like to tell -you it now.”</p> - -<p>“Come in,” said Lavenne, with a smile. The eternal feminine was the -same in his day as ours—that is to say, it might be summed up in the -same words: “The animal with a postscript.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_III_CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">CHOISEUL’S LETTER</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">LAVENNE inhabited very modest apartments in the Rue Picpus, a street -of that old Paris which, always dying and vanishing, never seems quite -to die, which showed the towers of Philip Augustus to the people who -lived in the time of Charles V. and the old houses of Louis XI. to -the subjects of Louis XV., which shows, even to-day, glimpses of the -remotest past in odd corners left unswept by the tide of Time.</p> - -<p>The room into which he ushered Javotte was as old as the street and -house that contained it. Beamed and wainscoted, its only furniture -a few chairs, a table, a stove and a number of volumes piled on a -shelf, it had, still, a fairly comfortable appearance. Rooms have -personalities, and there are some rooms tolerable to live in even when -stripped almost bare of furniture, others intolerable, furnish them how -you please. Lavenne’s belonged to the first order.</p> - -<p>He took his seat at the table, pointed out a chair to Javotte, and -ordered her in a good-humoured way to be quick with her business, as he -had a pressing matter on hand.</p> - -<p>“It is this way, monsieur,” said Javotte. “I did not tell you all this -morning, simply because what I left untold relates to an affair of -which I am rather ashamed in one way, and not the least ashamed of in -another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“And this affair?”</p> - -<p>“Relates to the opening of a letter addressed by Monsieur de Choiseul -to a lady in Compiègne.”</p> - -<p>“And who opened the letter?”</p> - -<p>“I did, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“And how did it fall into your hands?”</p> - -<p>Javotte explained how Rochefort had found it in the saddle-bag of the -horse he had used in his escape from Versailles.</p> - -<p>“He would not open it himself, monsieur. He gave it to me to deliver to -the lady at Compiègne; when I said to him, ‘Monsieur de Choiseul would -open the letter were it one of yours,’ he only replied—‘You see, I am -not Monsieur de Choiseul, but simply Monsieur de Rochefort.’ That was -the reply of a great noble; but I, monsieur, am simply a servant, and, -what is more, the servant of Monsieur de Rochefort’s interests, seeing -that he saved me from those men of Monsieur de Choiseul, who might have -killed me. I do not love Monsieur de Choiseul and——”</p> - -<p>“You do love Monsieur de Rochefort,” finished Lavenne, with a laugh.</p> - -<p>Javotte flushed, her eyes sparkled, as though the words had been an -insult, then she calmed down.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you are right, monsieur, perhaps you are wrong. In any case, -my feelings have nothing to do with the matter.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me,” said Lavenne, “you are right. I have been indiscreet. Let -us forget it—and accept my apology. Now, as to this letter. May I ask -you to tell me its contents?”</p> - -<p>“I can do better, monsieur, I can show you the letter itself.”</p> - -<p>She took the letter from her breast and handed it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span> to Lavenne, who -spread it open on the table before him and began to read, his elbows -upon the table and his head between the palms of his hands.</p> - -<p>It was a terrible document for Choiseul to have put his name to. -Written in a moment of fury immediately after the presentation of -Madame Dubarry, it consisted of only twelve lines. Yet it told of the -failure of his plot against Dubarry, and it spoke of the King in a -sentence that was at once indecent and almost treasonable.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em>” said Lavenne. “What a letter! What a letter! What a -letter!” He glanced at the back of it, then he cast his eyes again over -the contents.</p> - -<p>It will be remembered that Choiseul was the enemy of Sartines, and -that the overthrow of Choiseul was, at that moment, the central desire -of the heart of Sartines. Lavenne knew this fact, and he knew that -the weapon lying before him on the table was of so deadly a nature, -that were he to hand it to his master, both honour and money would be -handed to him in return; he was no opportunist, however, nor could the -prospects of personal advantage blind him to the fact that the weapon -before him on the table was not his to sell. It belonged to Javotte. To -serve Rochefort, she had sullied her integrity by opening Choiseul’s -letter; trusting to Lavenne, she had brought him the letter, and not -a man, perhaps, in the Hôtel de Sartines other than Lavenne but would -have put her off with promises or threats and carried the letter to his -master, after the fashion of a dog retrieving game.</p> - -<p>But Lavenne was not a common man. With a villain, he would use every -art and subtlety; but with the straightforward and simple, he was -always honest and straightforward. Your modern police or political -agent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span> is supposed to be a man who excels in his profession according -to his capacity for the detection of crime; this is but a half truth, -for the detection of innocence is just as important to the police -agent, and to feel the innocence in others one requires a mind that can -attune itself to innocence as well as to villainy. A mind, in other -words, that can keep its freshness, even though its possessor dwells on -the dust-heap of crime.</p> - -<p>Lavenne could not betray Javotte over this matter without running -contrary to his nature. He recognized at once that this weapon, when -it was used, would have to be used in defence of Rochefort, not in -furtherance of the desires of Sartines. He recognized, also, that with -this weapon both purposes might be served; Rochefort might be defended -and Sartines’ ambition furthered at the same stroke. But the time had -not yet come, and even when it did arrive, this lethal instrument -would require to be used by a master hand. Turning to Javotte, he gave -her, in the course of five minutes, his whole opinion on the business, -showing her his whole mind on the matter with a frankness which she -knew by instinct to be genuine.</p> - -<p>“And you will keep that letter, then, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“With your permission, I will keep it, and I will use it, if use it I -must, to further the interests both of Monsieur de Rochefort and of my -master. But I promise you, it shall be used in Monsieur de Rochefort’s -interests first.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, then, monsieur,” replied Javotte. “I will leave it with -you.”</p> - -<p>Then she took her departure, and Lavenne, placing the letter in a -secret compartment of the panelling, began to dress for the part he was -to play in the household of Count Camus.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_III_CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE DECLARATION OF CAMUS</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">JAVOTTE, when she left the Rue Picpus, took her way to the Rue de -Valois. It will be remembered that Camille Fontrailles had slept at the -Dubarrys’ house in the Rue de Valois, and as Javotte was now in her -service, she had to follow her mistress.</p> - -<p>Immediately on Rochefort quitting her that morning, she had gone to the -Rue de Valois, helped her mistress to dress, and then slipped out on -her mission to Rochefort’s rooms, where she had first met Lavenne.</p> - -<p>Troubled in mind at not having made a clear breast of the affair about -Choiseul’s letter, and feeling sure that Lavenne would be the best -person to help Rochefort in that matter, she had slipped out again at -half-past six. She was now returning to help her mistress to dress for -the evening.</p> - -<p>An ordinary girl, knowing that the Dubarrys were the enemies of -Choiseul, would have put the letter in their hands; but Javotte had a -mind of her own, and a knowledge of Court life, and the Dubarrys in -particular, which prevented her from putting the slightest trust in any -person belonging to the Court, and more especially in the Dubarrys.</p> - -<p>She knew that were they to use the letter against Choiseul, they would -do so in their own interests, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span> in the interests of Rochefort. How -right she was in this, we shall presently see.</p> - -<p>When she arrived at the Hôtel Dubarry, she found the house <em>en fête</em>. -The Countess was not there, she was still at Versailles, but Chon and -Jean were in evidence, and they were receiving friends to supper; and -amongst those friends, who should be first and foremost but Count -Camus. The man who had engineered, or partly engineered, the plot -against the presentation was among the first to call on Jean that day -to congratulate him on the success of the Countess. Jean had received -him with open arms. Nothing pleased Jean better now than to smooth -things over, and make up to the Choiseul faction. The Countess had -triumphed; she had beaten Choiseul, and she would break him. The duel -was not over by any means, but she had scored the first hit, and it was -politic to smile on Choiseul and his followers, just as Choiseul and -his followers had found it politic to kiss her hand on the night of her -triumph.</p> - -<p>“Come to supper this evening, my dear fellow,” said Jean. “I am -expecting one or two people. Madame de Duras and a few others. Have I -heard about Rochefort?—no, what about him?”</p> - -<p>Camus told, in a few words, of Rochefort’s crimes, and of how he had -escaped the night before just as he, Camus, had laid his hand upon him -in the name of Choiseul.</p> - -<p>“I always said he was a mad fool,” replied Jean; “and has he escaped -for good?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu</em>, no,” said Camus, “not whilst there is a frontier. -Choiseul is scouring the roads, Paris is watched, and a reward of a -thousand louis is offered for him, dead or alive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Well, if he is taken dead, we will be saved from his future -<em>gasconades</em>,” said Jean.</p> - -<p>“I would sooner he were taken alive,” replied Camus, “for I have a very -particular desire to see that gentleman hanged; and hanged he will be, -if I know anything of the mind of Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>Jean Dubarry showed Camus out, and opened the door for him with his own -hand. He would not have minded the hanging of Rochefort in the least, -if Rochefort could only be hanged before he could speak his mind and -tell his tale; but he greatly dreaded the catching of Rochefort by -Choiseul, and comforted himself with the thought that Rochefort must -now be in the safe custody of the governor of Vincennes.</p> - -<p>At eight o’clock, the first of the guests arrived in the person of -Madame de Duras. Chon Dubarry and Camille Fontrailles were waiting to -receive her, and Jean entered just as Camus was announced; on the heels -of Camus came M. de Joyeuse, a young fop and spendthrift, and scarcely -had he entered when the wheels of Madame d’Harlancourt’s carriage were -heard in the courtyard. She came in with M. d’Estouteville, whom she -had brought with her.</p> - -<p>Jean Dubarry was as pleased to receive d’Estouteville as he had been -to welcome Camus. Nothing could underscore the Countess’s success -more deeply than the evident anxiety of these members of the Choiseul -faction to be well with her.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em>” said Jean to himself, “Choiseul himself will be coming -next—well, let us wait and see.”</p> - -<p>He was in the highest spirits, complimenting Madame d’Harlancourt on -her appearance, jesting with Joyeuse, with a word for everyone except -Camus, who was deep in conversation with Camille Fontrailles.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span></p> - -<p>“Ah, mademoiselle,” Camus was saying, “it seems an age since I met you -at Monsieur de Choiseul’s, and yet, by the almanac, it was only the -other night.”</p> - -<p>“Why, monsieur, since that night so many things have happened, that the -time may well seem long—the Presentation, for instance.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, yes, the Presentation,” said Camus, with a laugh. “We have all -been deeply absorbed by that event.”</p> - -<p>“Deeply,” said Camille.</p> - -<p>“You are a friend of the Countess, mademoiselle?”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Camus, with an air of the greatest ingenuousness, “I have -not been her friend. I have never been her enemy, still, I must confess -I have not been her friend in the strict sense of the word. Court life -is like a game of chess, and I daresay you are aware that, during the -last few days, a great game of chess has been going forward between my -friend Choiseul and the Countess. I was on Choiseul’s side all through -it; I even helped in some of the moves. She won, and I must say her -courage has made me her admirer.”</p> - -<p>“And not her friend?”</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle, I am the friend of Monsieur de Choiseul, and I do not -easily separate myself from my friends. Still, I am content to remain -his friend, and yet to stand aside and take no part in any further move -that he may make against the Countess.”</p> - -<p>“And why, monsieur, do you impose this inaction upon yourself?”</p> - -<p>“Simply for this reason. I cannot take an active part in any move -against a person who is a friend of yours.”</p> - -<p>“And why not, monsieur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, you ask me a question now that is very difficult to answer.”</p> - -<p>“How so?”</p> - -<p>“Because the reply may make you angry.”</p> - -<p>“Then you had better not answer the question, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary, it is better to say what is in my mind, since to -leave it unsaid would be an act of cowardice, and it is better that we -should both know a secret that is tormenting me like fire. I cannot act -against a friend of yours, simply for this reason—I have learned to -love you.”</p> - -<p>He had risen before finishing the sentence, and at the last word, -bowing profoundly, he moved away to where Jean, de Joyeuse and Madame -d’Harlancourt were talking together, and joined in their conversation. -Camille followed him with her eyes. He had attracted her at the ball, -his action against Madame Dubarry had turned her against him, his -frank confession of the part he had taken had somewhat modified her -resentment, his declaration that in future he would remain neutral had -modified it still more; his declaration of love had stunned her.</p> - -<p>He was a married man.</p> - -<p>The thing amounted to an insult, yet she did not feel insulted, nor did -she feel angry; her being was stirred to its depths for the first time -in her life. Unconscious of the fact that a declaration of love from -Camus had about as much meaning as a declaration of pity from a tiger, -or perhaps half-conscious of it, she was held now by the mesmerism of -the man, and sat watching him as he conversed with the others; till -Madame de Duras, coming up to her, broke the spell.</p> - -<p>At supper, her eyes kept continually meeting those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> of Camus, and she -was half conscious of the fact that a wordless conversation was going -on between her almost unwilling mind and the mind of the Count.</p> - -<p>Men like Camus do most of their murderous work against women without -speech. They have the art of making women think about them, and they -know that they have the art.</p> - -<p>Camus all that evening kept aloof from the girl to whom he had made his -declaration of love. He wore a brooding and meditative air at times. He -knew that she was observing him closely, and he acted the part of the -eternal lover to perfection.</p> - -<p>Yet, despite his acting, he was desperately in earnest.</p> - -<p>When the card-tables were being set out, it was found that Camille had -vanished from the room. She did not appear again that night.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_III_CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE HOUSE OF COUNT CAMUS</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">MEANWHILE, Lavenne, when Javotte had taken her departure, set out on -the business of dressing himself for the part he was about to perform. -In a cupboard opening off his bedroom he had all sorts of disguises, -from the dress of an abbé to the rags of a beggar-man. He was a master -in the art of disguise, and knew quite well that every profession and -station in life has its voice and manner and walk, as well as its -dress; that dress, in fact, is only part of the business of disguise, -deportment, manner and voice being equally essential, and even perhaps -more so.</p> - -<p>In fifteen minutes, or less, he had converted himself into a perfect -representation of a servant out of a place, slightly seedy, and seeking -a situation. Then, having glanced round his rooms to see that all was -in order, he locked his door, put the key in his pocket and started for -the Hôtel de Sartines. Here he received the written character, which -had been prepared for him under the name of Jouve, and he started for -Camus’ house in the Rue du Trône.</p> - -<p>It was a large house, decorated in the Italian style, and the -<em>concierge</em>, who opened to Lavenne’s ring, did not receive him too -civilly; but he passed him on to the kitchen premises, and here -Lavenne, finding Jumeau,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span> gave him the news of his mother’s mortal -illness; and the distress of Jumeau was so well done and so natural, -that Lavenne formed a better opinion of his capabilities than he had -hitherto held, and made a mental note of the fact, afterwards to be -incorporated in a report to de Sartines.</p> - -<p>Jumeau, having dried his eyes, took Lavenne down a passage and, -lighting a candle, drew him into the small bedroom which he occupied, -and which was situated immediately beside the plate pantry. Jumeau had -not only to clean the plate, but to act as a watchdog at night in case -of thieves.</p> - -<p>When the bedroom door was closed, Lavenne turned to Jumeau:</p> - -<p>“Have you anything to report?”</p> - -<p>“No, Monsieur Lavenne, nothing political at all has taken place in the -house. Monsieur de Sartines told me to be especially watchful of any -friends of Monsieur de Choiseul, or messengers, and to do my utmost -to intercept any letter from the Duc. Not a scrap of paper of that -description have I seen.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you have done your duty evidently with care, and I shall note -that in my report. I have come to take your place, as you guessed -by this; so now take yourself off to the major-domo, get leave of -absence to see your mother, and say that your cousin, Charles Jouve, is -prepared to take your place, that he is an excellent servant, and has -the highest testimonials; then come back here and tell me what he says.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Monsieur Lavenne.”</p> - -<p>“What sort of a man is this major-domo, and what is his name?”</p> - -<p>“His name is Brujon, Monsieur Lavenne, and he is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> rather stupid, fond -of talk, and very fond of his glass of wine.”</p> - -<p>“Good! He is a gossip?”</p> - -<p>“You may say that.”</p> - -<p>“Well, off you go; and use all your wits, now, so that he may accept me -in your place.”</p> - -<p>Jumeau left the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and Lavenne sat -on the bed waiting his return, and glancing about him at the poorly -furnished room, dimly lit by a candle tufted with a “letter,” like a -miniature cauliflower.</p> - -<p>In five minutes, Jumeau returned.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Lavenne, “what luck?”</p> - -<p>“The best, Monsieur Lavenne. He is in a good humour. He asked me all -sorts of questions as to my mother, spoke of filial duty and gave me -leave of absence for three days. He wishes to see you.”</p> - -<p>Lavenne rose from the bed.</p> - -<p>“Let us go at once, then,” said he, “before his good-humour changes. -Lead the way, introduce me to him, and then say nothing more. I will do -the talking.”</p> - -<p>They left the room.</p> - -<p>Monsieur Brujon’s office was situated on the same floor, that is to -say, the basement.</p> - -<p>It was a fairly large room, with an old bureau in one corner, where -Monsieur Brujon kept his receipted bills, his correspondence, his -keys and a hundred odds and ends that had no place in a bureau; old -playbills, ballades, wine labels, a questionable book or two, corks, -shoe-buckles and so forth.</p> - -<p>He was a character, Monsieur Brujon. Untidy as his bureau, stout, -rubicund, with a fatherly manner and an eye for a pretty girl, he was a -fine example of the old French servant that flourished in feudal times, -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span> servant who became a part of the family, drank his master’s wine, -knew his master’s secrets, and through other servants of his kind the -secrets of half the town or countryside where he lived.</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said Brujon, “this is the young man who has come to take your -place. He has some knowledge of his work, then?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“In whose service did you say he was last?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “I was in the service of Monsieur Le Roux, -and to expedite matters, I have brought with me the testimonial that he -gave me on my leaving him?”</p> - -<p>“And why did you leave him?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, monsieur,” said Lavenne, remembering Monsieur Brujon’s instinct -for gossip, “it was not that he had any fault to find with me, or I -with him; it was on account of madame.”</p> - -<p>“Eh, madame! Had she a temper, then?”</p> - -<p>“It was not her temper so much as other things, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>Monsieur Brujon read the testimonial and expressed himself satisfied, -told Jumeau that he might take his departure, and Lavenne that he might -remain; then when the door was shut, he turned to the new-comer.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said he, “what was the matter with madame?”</p> - -<p>When Lavenne had finished his revelations, M. Brujon, chuckling and -gloating, rose to conduct the new-comer round the house, so that he -might have the lie of the premises. He took him through the basement, -showed him the kitchen, the plate pantry, the room he was to occupy by -the pantry, and the other offices. Then upstairs, that the new servant -might see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span> the dining-room, to which it was his duty to convey the -plate. As they went on their way, Brujon conversed, and Lavenne, who -had already taken the measure of his man, led the talk to Camus.</p> - -<p>“I need not hide it from you,” said he, “that I look on it as a feather -in my cap taking service, even for a short time, under your master. I -have heard much about him; it is even said that his cleverness is so -great that he knows Arabic and all the secrets of the East.”</p> - -<p>“You may well say that,” replied Brujon, pompously, “not only is he of -one of the oldest families, but he has here—” and he tapped his empty -forehead—“what all the others have not got. I, who know him so well, -and whom he trusts, can speak of that.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Ma foi!</em>” said Lavenne, in an awed voice, “is it a fact, then, that -he is an alchemist?”</p> - -<p>Brujon pursed out his lips as he closed the door of the dining-room, -having shown the place to his companion. “It is not for me to say -anything of his secrets, but I can tell you this, he is clever enough -to put Monsieur Mesmer in his pocket.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mon Dieu!</em> but he must be even a greater man than I thought, and to -think that you have seen him at work, perhaps. Why, it would frighten -me to death—and where does he do these wonderful things?”</p> - -<p>“Come here,” said Brujon.</p> - -<p>He led the way down the corridor, leading from the dining-room, paused -at a door, took a bunch of keys from his pocket, and, choosing a key, -opened the door.</p> - -<p>The lamp which he was carrying disclosed a room lined with shelves -containing bottles, glass cupboards containing bottles and flasks stood -in the corners, and in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span> the centre, on a heavy bench-like table, were -more bottles, some retorts, and a lamp. Heavy red curtains hung before -the window.</p> - -<p>It was a chemist’s laboratory.</p> - -<p>“This is the room where my master works,” said Brujon, “he and I only -have access to it. I am exceeding my duties, even, in showing it to -you; though, indeed, he has never given me orders on that matter. Now -you may see the truth of what I say—but never say that you have seen -it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu</em>, no! The place frightens me. You see, I am not clever -like you, Monsieur Brujon; indeed, all my schooling taught me was just -to repeat the <em>Credo</em>, and to read a few words of print.”</p> - -<p>“Well, if it taught you also to hold your tongue,” replied the most -inveterate gossip in Paris, “it has taught you enough to make you a -good servant. Well, it is now time for bed. You know your duties, and -should any noise awaken you in the night, your first thought will be -of the plate under your keeping. You will give the alarm, call me and -hold the thief should you be able to seize him. But I may tell you at -once that there is little need of fear. All the doors are impossible -to open, there are no windows on the ground floor, and there is always -a watchman in the courtyard. Still, it is your duty to be on the <em>qui -vive</em>.”</p> - -<p>“You may trust that I will do my duty, Monsieur Brujon; and now, where -is your bedroom, so that, in the event of anything happening, I may -call you?”</p> - -<p>“I will show you,” replied Brujon.</p> - -<p>He led the way downstairs and showed the room, which was situated off -the same passage as that on which Lavenne’s opened.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span></p> - -<p>“The menservants sleep in the basement, the maids under the roof,” said -Brujon, with a fat smile.</p> - -<p>He bade good-night to the new man and shuffled off to his office, -whilst Lavenne retired to his room. Lavenne had a theory that every -mind is like a safe in this particular: that the strongest safe can be -picked if only the locksmith is clever enough. He knew that to get at -a man’s secrets all questioning is useless, unless you bring your mind -in tune with his. He knew that men run in tribes, and that there is a -quite unconscious freemasonry between members of the same tribe.</p> - -<p>His instinct told him the tribe to which M. Brujon belonged, and his -marvellous power of adaptability made him for the moment a member of -the same tribe. In short, his scandalous stories about the unfortunate -Madame Le Roux had put him at once <em>en rapport</em> with the jovial, -easy-going, scandal-loving and eminently Gallic mind of M. Brujon.</p> - -<p>That mind had opened without any difficulty to the skilful pick-lock, -giving up the fact as to the situation of the room where his master -busied himself with his strange chemistry.</p> - -<p>Lavenne had captured the situation of the room; it was now his -business, and a much more difficult business, to capture the key, or, -failing that, to pick the lock. He had brought with him an instrument -similar to the old <em>crochet</em> used by the burglars of France ever since -the time of the Coquillards—the instrument that is used still under -the name of the Nightingale. With this he could unlock and lock a door -as easily as with a key. It remained to be seen whether the door of -Camus’ room could be opened by this means.</p> - -<p>He blew out the candle, lay down on the bed, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> closing his eyes -began, as a pastime, to review the whole situation.</p> - -<p>It was a difficult situation enough. If Camus caught him in the act -of making an examination of his room, Camus would certainly kill him, -unless he killed Camus. Even in the latter event he would almost -certainly be lost, unless he could make his escape, which was very -unlikely. For if he killed Count Camus in his own house, he would, if -caught, be most certainly hanged by de Sartines; it being the unwritten -law of the Hôtel de Sartines that an agent caught on a business of -this sort must never reveal his identity, or seek protection from the -Law which employed him, suffering even death, if necessary, in the -execution of his duty.</p> - -<p>But this consideration did not deflect our man a hair’s-breadth from -the course he had mapped out for himself. The thing that was now -occupying his mind was the room itself, of which he had caught a -glimpse, its contents and its possible secrets.</p> - -<p>It was the dark centre of Camus’ life, the depository, without doubt, -of his secrets. What he would find there in the way of written or other -evidence, Lavenne did not know; of how he would prosecute his search, -he had no definite plan; yet he knew that here was the only place -where Justice might rest her lever as on a fulcrum, and with one swift -movement send the Poisoner crashing to the pit that awaited him.</p> - -<p>As he lay in the darkness revolving these matters in his mind, he heard -the great clock of the Hôtel chiming the hour of eleven. He determined -to wait till midnight. Jumeau had told him that Camus had gone to the -Hôtel Dubarry and would not be home, most likely, till the small hours, -if then.</p> - -<p>Lavenne felt that he had the whole night before him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span> unconscious of -the fact that Camus’ hour of return that night was not at all to be -counted on, simply for the reason that Camus, when Camille Fontrailles -left the party, had become restless, and though he had taken his place -at the card-table, showed such absence of mind that Luck, who hates a -cold lover, declared herself dead against him.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Monsieur Brujon retired to rest, but not before sending a -special messenger to Monsieur Gaston Le Roux with a note, enclosing the -testimonial, and an inquiry as to whether the man mentioned in it was -to be trusted.</p> - -<p>M. Le Roux’s reply consisted of only one word, “Absolutely.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_III_CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE LABORATORY</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">AT twelve o’clock, Lavenne, slipping from the bed, felt in his pockets -to make sure that the <em>crochet</em>, the tinder-box and steel and the three -special candles which he had brought with him, short and thick like -modern night-lights, were to hand. Then he opened his door.</p> - -<p>The passage was in black darkness, yet he felt sure of finding his way. -He had noted the length of the passage, the position of the doors, -and the position of the staircase leading to the upper floor; he had -counted the number of steps in the stairs, the form of the landing -to which they led was mapped in his mind, and also the point in the -landing from which opened the passage leading to the dining-room -corridor and to the laboratory of Camus.</p> - -<p>He closed the door of the bedroom carefully, and groping his way, -passed down the passage to the stairs. The stairs creaked under his -foot, some stairways seem to creak the louder the more softly they are -trodden on. Lavenne knew this idiosyncrasy and went boldly, reached the -landing, found the passage to the dining-room corridor, and in a moment -more was spreading his fingers on the door of Camus’ private room in -search of the key-hole.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span></p> - -<p>Then, taking the <em>crochet</em> from his pocket, he inserted it in the lock.</p> - -<p>Lavenne possessed a vast fund of special knowledge without which, -despite his genius and fertility of resource, he would have been lost -a hundred times in the course of a year. Not only had he a quick -mind to receive knowledge, he had also a memory to retain it. Again, -that kindness and rectitude of spirit which made so many men his -friends, opened for him a living library in the Hôtel de Sartines. -For instance, he had learned much of the science of Cryptography from -Fremin. Jondret, who would certainly have been hanged some day as a -housebreaker, had not de Sartines recognized his genius and drawn him -into the police, had taught him the science of picking locks, whilst -Cabuchon, a little old man, who in the year 1767 had placed his dirty -forefinger on the poisoner of M. Terell, the haberdasher of the Rue St. -Honoré, had taught him many of the tricks of poisoners.</p> - -<p>The art of poisoning, first studied in Europe seriously by the -Italians, had been imported into France in the days of the infamous -Catherine de Medicis. The Revolution put its heel definitely on the -last remnants of this fine product of the Middle Ages, but in the time -of the fifteenth Louis there were still a few practitioners of the -business, as witness the case of M. Terell poisoned by a candle.</p> - -<p>Cabuchon had disclosed many of the secrets of this horrible science to -the eager Lavenne. He had not only given him considerable knowledge of -the methods used by the practitioners of the Italian art, such as the -poisoning of gloves and flowers, but he had also given his pupil an -insight into the psychology of the poisoner who uses recondite means, -showing clearly and by instance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> that these people develop a passion -for the business, and are sometimes held under the sway and fascination -of the demon who presides over it so firmly that they will poison their -fellow men and women for the slightest reason, and sometimes for no -perceptible reason at all.</p> - -<p>It was this knowledge derived from Cabuchon that disclosed to Lavenne -at one stroke the poisoner of Atalanta, and the intending poisoner of -Madame Camus.</p> - -<p>It was the knowledge derived from Jondret that was now guiding his -dexterous hand in the use of the <em>crochet</em>. Feeling and exploring the -wards, examining the construction of the lock, using the delicacy -and gentleness of a surgeon who is probing a wound, he worked, till, -assured of the mechanism, with a powerful and sudden turn of the wrist -he forced the bolt back and the door was open.</p> - -<p>He entered the room, shut the door, and proceeded to examine the lock. -The bolt was a spring bolt, that is to say, that whilst it required a -key to open, it required none to lock it again. He pressed the door to, -and it closed with a click scarcely audible and speaking well for the -perfection of the mechanism.</p> - -<p>Then he struck a spark from the tinder and steel, and lit one of his -candles. The lamp was standing on the table, but he would have nothing -to do with it. It was necessary to be prepared for instant concealment -should anyone arrive to interrupt him, and a lamp takes a perceptible -time to extinguish. He placed the lighted candle on the table, and -turned to the curtains hiding the window. They were of heavy corded -silk, and there was space enough behind them for a man to hide if -necessary. Sure of the fact, he turned again to the table. He scarcely -glanced at the bottles and retorts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> upon it; hastily, yet thoroughly, -he examined it for drawers or secret compartments, but the table was -solid throughout, made of English oak, roughly constructed and showing -no sign of the French cabinet-makers’ art.</p> - -<p>Leaving the table, he examined the cabinets in the corners of the -room. They held nothing but the bottles and retorts visible through -their glass doors. He examined the walls for concealed cupboards and -<em>caches</em>, auscultating them here and there, just as a physician sounds -the chest of a patient nowadays. But the walls made no response, they -were of solid stone behind the stucco. He turned his attention to the -flooring, sounding the solid parquet here and there, and had reached to -a spot halfway between the table and the window-curtains, when a hollow -note gave answer to his knock, a deep, resonant note, showing that a -fairly large area of floor space was involved. He was going on both -knees to examine this space more carefully when a step sounded in the -corridor outside, a key was put into the lock of the door; and Lavenne, -who, at the first sound of the step had blown out the candle, placed it -in his pocket and whipped behind the curtains veiling the window.</p> - -<p>It was Camus. He entered, lamp in hand, closed the door, placed the -lamp on the table, and from it lit the other lamp. The Count evidently -required plenty of light this evening, either to assist his thoughts or -his studies. Lavenne, behind the curtains, had a good view of the room, -its occupant, the table, the walls leading to the door and the door -itself.</p> - -<p>Camus, turning from the table, began to pace the floor. He seemed -plunged in deep thought as he walked up and down, his hands behind his -back, his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span> head bent, the light now striking his face, now his hands -knotted together, delicate yet powerful hands, remarkable, had you -examined them closely, for the size of the thumbs.</p> - -<p>Could you imagine yourself in the room with a man-eating tiger, and -nothing separating you in the way of barrier but a curtain, you would -feel somewhat as Lavenne felt alone thus with Count Camus. Looking -through the small space between the curtains, he noted for the first -time fully the powerful build of the man.</p> - -<p>Camus, unconscious that he was being watched, continued to pace the -floor. Then, pausing before one of the corner cupboards, he took a -key from his pocket, opened the cupboard and drew out a wooden stand, -holding two narrow tubes shaped like test-tubes. The tubes were corked, -and one was half-filled with a violet-coloured solution, the other with -a crystal-clear white liquid.</p> - -<p>Camus closed the cupboard door with his left hand, and carrying the -tubes carefully placed them and the stand containing them on the table. -Then going to another cupboard, he took from it an object which held -the watcher behind the curtain fascinated as he gazed on it. It was a -mask made of glass, with black ribbons attached at the edge, so that it -could be tied securely to the head of the wearer, the ribbons passing -above and below the ears.</p> - -<p>“Ah ha!” said Lavenne to himself, “we are going to see something now.”</p> - -<p>He watched whilst Camus, having placed the mask on the table, went to -the cupboard and produced a glass slab, a rod of glass and a small -brush of camel-hair, such as artists use for water-colour painting. -Also, from the same cupboard, he produced a tiny bottle with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> a gold -stopper; this bottle was not made of glass, but of metal.</p> - -<p>Having arranged his materials on the table, the Count drew from his -pocket an object which caused the watcher behind the curtain much -searching of mind. The object was a dagger, or rather a sheath knife, -small, of exquisite design, and with scabbard and pommel crusted with -gems.</p> - -<p>He drew the blade from the sheath, which he placed carefully on one -side. The blade was of silver, double-edged and damascened, about an -inch broad and four inches long.</p> - -<p>He placed the blade by the sheath. Then he put on the mask, took the -tube containing the violet liquor and poured a few drops on the glass -slab, then, as swiftly as light, a few drops from the tube containing -the crystal-clear liquid, stirring the two together with the point of -the glass rod. He reached out his left hand for the small metal bottle, -uncorked it, and poured a few drops on the slab.</p> - -<p>Instantly a cloud of vapour rose up, the liquid on the slab seemed -to boil; dipping the little brush in the seething fluid, he drew the -dagger blade to him and began to paint the silver with swift strokes, -reaching from the haft to the point.</p> - -<p>He only painted one side of the blade, and when the business was -completed, instead of returning the blade to the sheath, he laid it on -the table as if to dry.</p> - -<p>Then he rose from the chair and removed the mask from his face.</p> - -<p>A faint sickly odour filled the room. Lavenne, who had a pretty -intimate knowledge of most perfumes, pleasant or unpleasant, and who -in the course of his duties in the old quarters of Paris had learned -the art<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> of possessing no nose, drew back slightly from this effluvium, -the effect of which was mental rather than physical. It might have been -likened to an essence distilled from an evil dream. But it did not seem -to trouble Camus. He was now putting away the bottle and the tubes, -the rod and the slab of glass. He returned the mask to the cabinet he -had taken it from, and then, coming back to the table, he took up the -dagger, examined it attentively and returned it to its sheath.</p> - -<p>Going to the right-hand wall, he touched a spot about four feet from -the ground; a tiny door, the existence of which Lavenne had failed to -detect, flew open. He placed the dagger in the <em>cache</em> thus disclosed, -shut the door, extinguished one of the lamps on the table, and carrying -the other in his hand, left the room.</p> - -<p>Lavenne drew a deep breath.</p> - -<p>The situation was saved. Relieved of that terrible presence, his mind -could now work freely. Up to this, he had been unable to guess the -meaning of Camus’ labours.</p> - -<p>Why had Camus used this terrible fluid to poison the knife only on one -side? Why had he used such immense precaution that the other side of -the steel should remain untainted.</p> - -<p>The answer came now in a flash. Cabuchon had told him of this old -medieval trick, only Cabuchon had used the word knife, not dagger.</p> - -<p>Camus would use his dagger in this way. Laughingly, at some festival or -banquet, he would take out his beautiful dagger, and, cutting a pear or -a peach or an apple in two, offer half to his companion, whoever he or -she might be.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span></p> - -<p>And the half offered to his companion would be poisoned, inasmuch as it -would have come closely in contact with the poisoned side of the knife, -whereas the half retained for himself would be innocuous.</p> - -<p>And who could say to him, “Madame Camus died after eating that peach -you offered her,” considering the fact that he had also eaten of it?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_III_CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE FAWN AND THE SERPENT</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">LAVENNE, considering this matter in his mind, still remained behind the -curtain standing in absolute darkness and waiting so as to give Camus -time to remember anything that he might possibly have forgotten.</p> - -<p>After the lapse of ten minutes, fairly assured that the Count would not -return, he pushed the curtains aside and struck a light.</p> - -<p>This time, he boldly lit the lamp on the table and with it in his hand -approached the wall on the right and began to hunt for the spring of -the secret opening. He was not long in finding it; a tiny disc, the -same colour as the wall and only revealed by its thread-like edge, -showed itself to the light of the lamp. He pressed on it, the door of -the <em>cache</em> flew open, and in a moment the dagger was in his hand. -There was nothing else in the <em>cache</em>. Already he had formulated a plan -in his mind, a plan which at first sight might seem diabolical, but -which he considered, and with justice, the only means with which to -meet the case.</p> - -<p>Camus was no ordinary villain. This room was evidently his stronghold -and the <em>cache</em> was evidently his most secret hiding-place. Yet there -were no incriminating papers to be found in the room, no papers -whatever;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> nor in the <em>cache</em>. This gentleman evidently kept his -secrets in his soul. He made no mistakes. Justice, Lavenne felt, might -search for ever without finding a tittle of evidence against him, and -indeed this fact, de Sartines, who had long known his proclivities, had -proved to the hilt. But there is such a thing as Retribution, and in -the name of Retribution Lavenne had declared in his own mind that the -knife of Camus should be Camus’ undoing.</p> - -<p>Lavenne, replacing the lamp on the table, examined the dagger minutely -without drawing the blade. The design was different on the two sides of -the sheath. On one side a fawn trod boldly on jewelled grapes, on the -other a serpent of six curves extended itself from the blade-entrance -to the point. The pommel on both its sides was of the same design.</p> - -<p>Nothing could be more striking than the difference between the two -sides of this dagger-sheath. One could have told them one from the -other in the dark and just by the sense of touch.</p> - -<p>Lavenne verified this fact with a grim pursing of his lips. The dagger -and sheath had been constructed for a set purpose, so that the poisoner -who had poisoned one side of the blade might know at once, and before -drawing it from its sheath, which was the lethal side. A mistake on -this point would have meant death to the poisoner instead of the -intended victim. Now Lavenne did not know which side of the blade Camus -had poisoned, for the sheath had been covered by the Count’s hand when -he put the blade back in it.</p> - -<p>Lavenne, however, did not in the least require to know which was the -poisoned side, or whether it faced to the serpent or the fawn. Camus -knew this and that was sufficient.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span></p> - -<p>To destroy Camus, Lavenne had only to draw the double-edged blade from -the sheath and insert it again, the other way about.</p> - -<p>That being done, this presenter of fruit to ladies would, when he cut -his apple or pear in two, present himself with the poisoned half.</p> - -<p>Lavenne drew the blade from the sheath, noticed that the poison, which -doubtless was only soluble in an acid solution, like, for instance, -the juice of a fruit, showed no sign of its presence on the silver, -inserted the blade again in the sheath the other way about, and -returned the dagger to the <em>cache</em>, which he then closed. His work was -now done, there was nothing left but to extinguish the lamp and leave -the room. He looked about to see that everything was in perfect order, -and then, taking the <em>crochet</em> from his pocket, he approached the door.</p> - -<p>The lock turned quite easily to the instrument, but the door did not -open.</p> - -<p>He withdrew the <em>crochet</em>, reinserted it, and made the turn with his -wrist, and again with the same result.</p> - -<p>The door was bolted now as well as locked. Lavenne drew the back of his -hand across his forehead, which was covered with sweat. It was quite -useless to try again. It was not the fault of the lock. He remembered -now that Brujon, before he opened the door to show him the room, -had placed one hand on the wall beside the door. Brujon was stout, -and Lavenne had fancied that he leaned his hand on the wall to rest -himself. He knew now that Brujon must have touched a spring withdrawing -a secret bolt, without the release of which the door would not open.</p> - -<p>When Brujon had closed the door, he must have forgotten to touch -another spring which would have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> re-shot the bolt. Owing to this -forgetfulness, Lavenne had been able to enter the room simply by -picking the lock. But Camus, who seemed never to forget precaution, had -not forgotten to touch the bolting spring, with the result that Lavenne -was now a prisoner in a prison that threatened to be his tomb.</p> - -<p>He knew that it was quite futile, with the means at his disposal, -to make any further attempt upon the lock; even had he possessed a -crow-bar and all the tools necessary, the noise of the breaking open of -the door would arouse the house.</p> - -<p>The doorway being impossible, he turned to the window, which he had -not yet examined. The lamp held close to the window showed nothing of -the dark world outside, but it showed very definitely strong iron bars -almost touching the glass.</p> - -<p>The window being impossible, he turned to the floor.</p> - -<p>There was just a chance that the hollow-sounding portion of the parquet -between the table and the window curtains might disclose a means of -exit. There was, in fact, more than a chance, for a man like Camus, who -forgot nothing, would be the least likely man to forget to provide a -secret way of escape from this chamber of secrecy.</p> - -<p>Lavenne was not wrong; the parquet on close examination showed -the outline of a trap-door so well constructed as to be perfectly -indistinguishable to the gaze of a person who was not searching for it.</p> - -<p>In five minutes, or less, he had discovered the button of the opening -spring. He pressed on it, and the flap, instead of rising, as in the -ordinary trap-door, sank, disclosing a perpendicular ladder leading -down into absolute darkness.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_III_CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE CATACOMBS OF PARIS</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">HERE was a way of escape, but escape to where? He did not consider the -latter question for an instant. Replacing the lamp on the table, he -glanced round to make sure that everything was in exact order, counted -all the articles in his possession, the <em>crochet</em>, the two extra -candles which he carried, etc., just as a surgeon counts the sponges -which he has used during an operation, and having satisfied himself -that he had disturbed nothing and left nothing behind, he extinguished -the lamp, found the trap-door opening in the darkness and came down the -ladder. It had fifteen rungs. When he felt the solid ground under his -feet, he lit one of his candles and looked about him.</p> - -<p>He was standing in a passage that led to a flight of steps descending -into darkness, above was the square opening of the trap-door, and -shining in the wall on his right, a brass handle. He guessed its use -and pulling on it, the flap of the door above rose steadily and slowly -and closed with a faint sucking sound like that of a piston driven home -in a perfectly fitting cylinder.</p> - -<p>It seemed to Lavenne that everything was favouring him, for had he been -forced to leave the door open, his plan might have been ruined, as -Camus would undoubtedly have suspected a spy on his movements.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span></p> - -<p>With the lighted candle in his hand, he came towards the flight of -steps. At the top of this stone stairway, he paused for a moment almost -daunted. It seemed to have no end. The light of the candle became -swallowed up in the darkness before revealing the last step. There were -over a hundred of these steps leading to a passage, or rather a tunnel, -which ended by opening into a corridor. The tunnel struck the corridor -at right angles, and Lavenne, holding his light to the walls, looked in -vain for an indication as to whether he should turn to the right or the -left. Failing to find any, he turned to the right.</p> - -<p>He had gone only a few yards when an opening in the corridor wall gave -him a glimpse of something more daunting than the darkness. It was a -skull resting on a heap of bones. The skull, from which the lower jaw -was missing, was yet not wholly without speech. It told Lavenne at once -where he was.</p> - -<p>Pursuing his way and casting the light of the candle into several more -of these lidless sarcophagi, he reached a large open space, where over -the piles of bones heaped against the walls, the candle-light revealed -a Latin inscription cut into the stone.</p> - -<p>From this open space to the right, to left, in front and behind of the -man who had just entered it, the candle-light showed four corridors -each leading to darkness.</p> - -<p>Lavenne had left the laboratory of Count Camus only to find himself -entangled in the Catacombs of Paris.</p> - -<p>Camus’ house seemed built in conformity with his mind, secure, secret, -containing many things unrevealable to the light of day, and based on a -maze of dark passages offering a means of escape to the mind that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span> knew -them and bewilderment and despair to the mind that did not.</p> - -<p>Lavenne knew something of the catacombs, but not much. They lay outside -his province.</p> - -<p>The Catacombs of Paris are to-day just as they were in the time of the -fifteenth Louis, with this difference: they are more fully occupied, -since they contain the bones of many of the victims of the Terror. This -vast system of tunnelling which extends from the heart of Paris to the -plain of Mont Souris is in reality a city where rock takes the place of -houses, galleries the place of streets, dead men the place of citizens, -and eternal darkness the place of day and night.</p> - -<p>It has been closed now for some years on account of the danger to -explorers arising from the huge army of rats that have made it their -camping-ground. Some years ago a man was attacked and eaten by rats in -one of the galleries.</p> - -<p>Few inhabitants of the gay city of Paris ever give a thought to the -city of Death that lies beneath their feet, and fewer still to the -motto that is written on the walls of this vast tomb—just as it is -written everywhere:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“Remember, Man, that thou art Dust, and that unto Dust thou shalt -return.”</p></div> - -<p>It was in this terrific place that Lavenne found himself, with the -choice of exploring it to find a way out or returning to encounter -Camus.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span></p> - -<h2 class="chapter">BOOK IV</h2> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">NEWS FROM VINCENNES</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">ONE morning, four days later, the Comte de Sartines, working in his -official room in the Hôtel de Sartines, was informed that a person -wished to see him on urgent business.</p> - -<p>“What is the name?” asked he.</p> - -<p>“Brujon, monsieur. It is the steward of M. le Comte Camus.”</p> - -<p>“Show him in,” replied the Minister.</p> - -<p>He continued writing; then, when the visitor was announced, he turned -in his chair, pen in hand.</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur,” said the Minister of Police, “you wish to see me? -What is your business?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Brujon, “I am in great perplexity and distress. For -three nights I have not slept, and the thing has worked so on my mind -that I said to myself, I will go to Monsieur de Sartines, who is -all-powerful, and place this case before him.”</p> - -<p>“Yes?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, four days ago, our pantry-man, Jumeau, who has charge of the -silver belonging to my master, asked leave of absence on account of the -illness of his mother; he introduced to me a young man, his cousin, -named Jouve, in order that Jouve might take his place during the time -of his absence. Jouve had an excellent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> reference, and I engaged him. -Well, that night Jouve disappeared. At least, in the morning he was -nowhere to be found. Yet he could not have left the house.”</p> - -<p>“And why could not he have left the house?”</p> - -<p>“Because, monsieur, all the doors are locked, and, what is more, barred -on the inside, yet no bar had been removed. My master, when he comes -in late, is always admitted by the <em>concierge</em>, who re-bars the door, -all the other doors are equally barred, and that night I examined the -fastenings myself. If Jouve had left the house by any door, how could -he have replaced the bars?”</p> - -<p>“He may have had an accomplice in the house,” replied de Sartines, -deeply interested and wondering what new move of Lavenne’s this might -be, for Beauregard had told him of Lavenne’s suspicions as to Camus, -and the whole business, in fact.</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur,” replied Brujon. “But no silver was taken, no valuables -of any sort, why should he have entered the house just to leave it in -that manner? Monsieur, I have a feeling that he is still in the house, -though, God knows, I have searched diligently enough to find him.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said de Sartines, “what can I do?”</p> - -<p>“I do not know, monsieur, but I thought it my duty to consult you.”</p> - -<p>“Have you told your master of this affair?”</p> - -<p>Brujon hesitated.</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, I have not—he is of such a violent temper——.”</p> - -<p>“Precisely. But the fact remains that you have hidden the thing from -him, and that fact would not calm the violence of his temper should you -disclose the affair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span> now. He might even do you an injury, so, for the -sake of peace and your own skin, I would advise you to say nothing, but -keep a vigilant watch. Should Jouve turn up, hidden anywhere, lock him -up in a room, and send here at once and I will send a man to arrest -him.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, monsieur,” replied Brujon, who seemed relieved by Sartines’ -manner and advice. “I will do what you say. Good day, your Excellency.”</p> - -<p>When he was gone Sartines rang a bell and ordered Beauregard to be sent -to him.</p> - -<p>“<em>Ma foi!</em>” said Beauregard, “there is more in this than I can fathom. -What can he be doing all these four days?”</p> - -<p>“Who knows?” replied the Minister. “But I am quite confident he has -not been idle. He will turn up, and I dare swear he will bring with -him the rope to hang Monsieur Camus. It has been spinning for a long -time and is overdue. Now here is a commission for you. Since I can’t -put hands on Lavenne for the business, go yourself to Vincennes and see -how Rochefort is doing. They have had orders to make him comfortable, -see that these orders have been carried out. We must keep him in a good -temper.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Have a chat with him; and you might say that the Dubarrys are working -in his interests to smooth matters with Choiseul—which, in fact, they -are not.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“See that he is allowed plenty of exercise—tennis and so forth, but -always strictly guarded, for I know this devil of a Rochefort, one -can’t count on his whims, and should prison gall him he may, even -against his own interests,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> try to break out and fly into the claws of -Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>Beauregard went off on his mission, and as he left the room, the -Vicomte Jean Dubarry was announced.</p> - -<p>“My dear Sartines,” cried Jean as they shook hands, “I just called to -see if you were going to Choiseul’s reception to-night.”</p> - -<p>“I have been invited,” replied Sartines.</p> - -<p>“And you will go?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think I will go—why are you so pressing?”</p> - -<p>“Well, as a matter of fact,” said Jean, “Choiseul asked me to make sure -of your coming. He wishes peace all round now that the Dauphiness is to -arrive so shortly.”</p> - -<p>“You are great friends with Choiseul now, you and Madame la Comtesse?”</p> - -<p>“We are at peace, for the moment. I do not trust him one hair’s -breadth, but we are at peace.”</p> - -<p>“Just so,” said Sartines; “and how is Mademoiselle Fontrailles?”</p> - -<p>“As beautiful as ever.”</p> - -<p>“And as cold?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>ma foi!</em>” said Jean, laughing, “I think the ice is broken in that -direction—Camus——”</p> - -<p>“You mean to say she cares for Camus?”</p> - -<p>Jean laughed. “I say nothing. I only know what the Countess told me -this morning. Mind this is between ourselves—well, she is Camus’, -heart and soul.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Peste!</em> What does she see in that fellow?—Are you sure of what you -say?”</p> - -<p>“I am sure of nothing, but the Countess is. Camille has made her her -confidante. I do not know what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span> women see in Camus, but they seem to -see something that attracts them.”</p> - -<p>“But he is married—Oh, <em>mon Dieu!</em>” cried Sartines, suddenly -interrupting himself and breaking into a laugh. “What am I saying—it -is well known that Madame Camus is delicate—and should she die——”</p> - -<p>“Then our gentleman would be free to marry Camille,” said Jean.</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur,” replied Sartines, “I doubt if it would all be as simple -as that. However, we will not consider the question of Camus’ marriage -with this girl in any event. She is a fool.”</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“Why? Because if the Devil had allowed her to care for Rochefort, and -she had thrown in her part with him, it would have assisted to smooth -matters with Choiseul. The Countess would have worked more earnestly -for a <em>démarche</em>, and the Fontrailles would have kept Rochefort -contented in Vincennes with a few notes sent to him there— Well, one -cannot make up a woman’s mind for her and there is no use in trying. -She is going to-night, I suppose, to this affair at Choiseul’s?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you may be sure. Camus will be there.”</p> - -<p>The Vicomte went off and Sartines returned to his writing.</p> - -<p>But this was to be an eventful morning with him. Five minutes had -scarcely passed when the door burst open without knock or warning, and -Beauregard, who by this ought to have been on the road to Vincennes, -entered, flushed and breathing hard.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” cried Beauregard, “Rochefort has escaped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Escaped! <em>Mordieu!</em> When did he escape?”</p> - -<p>“In the early hours of this morning or during the night. Here is -Capitaine Pierre Cousin himself who has brought the story.”</p> - -<p>“Show him in,” said Sartines.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE TWO PRISONERS</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">SARTINES’ uneasiness about Rochefort had arisen from an intuitive -knowledge of that gentleman’s character, and strange misdoubts as to -how that character might develop under the double influence of Love and -Prison.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, no sooner had the excitement of his arrival at -Vincennes passed off, no sooner had he dined that evening, cracked -a bottle of Beaune, joked Bonvallot, and rubbed his hands at the -discomfiture of Choiseul, than reaction took place accompanied by -indigestion. He flung himself on the bed.</p> - -<p>Monsieur de Rochefort was not made for a quiet life. If he could not be -hunting or hawking he must be moving—moving on the pavements of Paris, -talking, laughing, joking or quarrelling.</p> - -<p>Here there was no one to laugh with, joke with, or quarrel -with—nothing to walk on, except the floor of his cell. And it was now -that he first became aware of a fact which he never knew before: that -it was his habit to change about from room to room. He was one of those -unfortunates who cannot endure to be long in one place. He never knew -this till now.</p> - -<p>It was now that he became aware for the first time of another fact -unknown to him until this: that he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> a great talker. And of another -fact, more general in its application, that to enjoy talking one must -be <em>en rapport</em> with the person to whom one is talking.</p> - -<p>This latter fact was borne in upon him by the voice of Ferminard.</p> - -<p>Ferminard, who had also finished his dinner, seemed now in a sprightly -mood, to judge by the voice that came to Rochefort, a voice which came -literally from under his bed.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur de Rochefort,” said the voice, “are you there, Monsieur de -Rochefort?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>mon Dieu!</em>” cried Rochefort, who had started on his elbow at this -sudden interruption of his thoughts. “Am I here? Where else would I be? -Yes, I am here—what do you wish?”</p> - -<p>“<em>Ma foi!</em> nothing but a little quiet conversation.” Rochefort laughed.</p> - -<p>“A little quiet conversation—why, your voice comes to me like the -voice of a dog grumbling under my bed. How can one converse under such -circumstances? But go on, talk as much as you please, I have nothing to -do but listen.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur de Rochefort, you are not encouraging, but I will do my -best; it is better to talk to a bad listener than to talk to no one, -and it is better to talk to no one than not to talk at all. Let us -talk, then, of Monsieur Rousseau’s absurd comedy with music attached to -it, which at the instigation of M. de Coigny he produced at Versailles.”</p> - -<p>“Good heavens, no! What do you take me for—a music-master? If you -cannot talk on reasonable subjects, then be dumb. Let me talk of -getting out of this infernal castle of Vincennes, which, it seems to -me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span> I was a fool to have entered. Have you that big sou upon you, M. -Ferminard?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, M. de Rochefort, it is in my pocket.”</p> - -<p>“Well, then, if you wish to be agreeable to me, pass it through the -hole to me. I wish to examine it. It, at all events, will speak to me -of liberty.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Ferminard, “if my pockets were full of louis, I would -pass them to you for the asking. But the big sou—no.”</p> - -<p>“And why not, may I ask?”</p> - -<p>“Because, monsieur, it would, as you say, talk to you of liberty, and -it might even tempt you to try and make your escape.”</p> - -<p>“And why should I not make my escape?”</p> - -<p>“For two reasons, monsieur. First, you have forgotten that you are -hiding from M. de Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“Curse Choiseul!”</p> - -<p>“I agree, yet still you are hiding from him. Secondly——”</p> - -<p>“Well?”</p> - -<p>“Secondly, monsieur, if you escaped, I would be left with no one to -talk to.”</p> - -<p>“Have you not Bonvallot?”</p> - -<p>“<em>Oh hé!</em> Bonvallot. A man without parts, without understanding, -without knowledge of the world! A nice man to leave me in company with!”</p> - -<p>“But I do not intend leaving you in his company. I ask you only for the -big sou that I may look at it and see what another man has done so that -he might obtain his liberty. If you refuse to gratify my curiosity, M. -Ferminard, I shall stuff up that hole with my blanket, and there will -be an end of our pleasant conversations.”</p> - -<p>“Well, M. de Rochefort, here it is, pull your bed out and I will put it -in your hand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort arose and pulled his bed out and the hand of Ferminard came -through the hole. Rochefort took the coin and approached the lamp with -it.</p> - -<p>It was indeed a marvel: in a moment he managed to unscrew the two -surfaces and from the tiny box which they formed when in apposition -leaped a little silvery saw, small as a watch-spring.</p> - -<p>Rochefort, leaving the little saw on the table, refastened the box.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em>” said he, “it is clever. What will you sell it to me for, -Monsieur Ferminard?”</p> - -<p>“You shall have it as a gift, M. Rochefort, when we are both breathing -the free air of heaven, but only then.”</p> - -<p>“You think I will use it to make my escape?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, I think you might use it to break your neck, or to be -re-captured by this horrible Choiseul whose very name gives me the -nightmare.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you are wrong,” replied the other. “Were I outside this place -I would not be re-captured, simply because I would do what I ought to -have done this morning.”</p> - -<p>“And what is that?”</p> - -<p>“Go straight to his Majesty and tell him the whole of my story and ask -him to be my judge—or better still, go straight to de Choiseul and -talk to him as a man to a man.”</p> - -<p>“To M. de Choiseul?”</p> - -<p>“Why, yes. I should never have run away from him. Nor would I, only -that on the night of the Presentation I was in a hurry to go to Paris; -he tried to stop me and I resisted arrest. And now it seems to me that -I am in a hurry to go to Paris again and that de Sartines is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> trying to -stop me, and that I am prepared to resist his hand.”</p> - -<p>He had almost forgotten Lavenne and his words, he had almost forgotten -the presence of Ferminard on the other side of the wall, and he talked -half to himself as he paced the floor uneasily, the big sou in his hand -and his mind revolving this new idea that had only just occurred to him.</p> - -<p>He should not have resisted arrest, even at the hands of Camus. -Choiseul wanted him primarily for the killing of the agent. Had he gone -straight to Choiseul and given him the whole truth, including Camus’ -conduct in the case of Javotte, whom he could have called as a witness, -Choiseul would he now imagined have released him after inquiry. But he -had resisted arrest, not because he felt guilty, but because he wanted -to go to Paris to meet Camille Fontrailles. Choiseul did not know that.</p> - -<p>It seemed to Rochefort, as his thoughts wandered back, that Camille -Fontrailles had been his evil star. She it was who had made him join -with the Dubarrys, she it was who had made him run away from Choiseul, -she it was who, refusing to see him, had put him in such a temper with -the world that his mind, unable to think for itself, had allowed other -men to think for it.</p> - -<p>It seemed to him now that Lavenne’s advice, though it was the best -that Lavenne could give, was not the best that Policy could devise. -He—Rochefort—was saved from Choiseul for the moment; tucked away in -Vincennes he might be saved from Choiseul as long as Choiseul remained -in power—but how long would that be?</p> - -<p>Choiseul might remain in power for years, and at this thought the sweat -moistened M. de Rochefort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span>’s hands, wetting the big sou which he still -held, and which, like some magician, whilst talking of Liberty to him, -had shown him, as in a vision, his foolishness and his false position.</p> - -<p>Sartines had put him under “protection” at Vincennes, not for -his—Rochefort’s—sake, but for his—Sartines’—convenience.</p> - -<p>So many charming people in this world are wise after the event; it is -chiefly the hard-headed and unpleasant and prosperous people whose -wisdom, practical as themselves, saves them and makes them prosper. -If Rochefort could only have gone back in his life; if he could only -have carried his present wisdom back to the night of the Presentation, -how differently things might have shaped themselves as regards his -interests—or would he, in the face of everything, have pursued the -path pointed out to him, as the old romance-writers would have said, -“by Love and Folly”?</p> - -<p>I believe he would, for M. de Rochefort had amongst his other -qualities, good and bad, the persistence of a snail. Not only had -Love urged him that night to strike Camus and escape on the horse of -Choiseul’s messenger, but Persistence had lent its powerful backing to -Love. This gentleman hated to break his word with himself, and, as a -matter of fact, he never did. If he had promised himself to repent of -his sins and lead a virtuous life, I believe he would have done so.</p> - -<p>He was longing to promise himself now to escape from this infernal -prison into which Folly had led him.</p> - -<p>“Well, M. de Rochefort,” came the voice of Ferminard, “it is not for me -to say whether you are right or wrong, but seeing that you are here, -and safe under the protection of M. de Sartines, there is nothing to be -done but have patience<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu</em>, patience! To be told that always makes me angry. Monsieur -Ferminard, if you use that word again to me I will stuff up that hole -with my blanket.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon,” said Ferminard. “The word escaped from me, and now, monsieur, -if you have done with that big sou.”</p> - -<p>“Here is your sou,” replied the other, replacing the coin in the -hand of Ferminard that was thrust through the opening, “and now, M. -Ferminard, I am going to sit down on my bed and try if sleep will not -help me to forget M. de Sartines, M. de Choiseul, myself, and this -infernal castle where stupidity has brought me. <em>Bon soir.</em>”</p> - -<p>“<em>Bon soir</em>, monsieur,” replied Ferminard.</p> - -<p>Rochefort blew out his candle, and having replaced the bed, flung -himself upon it, but not to sleep. Camille Fontrailles it was who now -haunted him. The rapid events of the day had pushed her image to one -side, and now in the darkness it reappeared to torment him. His passion -for her, born of a moment, was by no means dead, but it had received -a serious blow. At the crucial moment of his life she had refused to -see him; after all that he had done for her friends, after all he had -sacrificed for her, she had refused to see him, and not only that, she -had sent a cold message, and also, she had sent it by the mouth of that -fat-lipped libertine, Jean Dubarry.</p> - -<p>Jean Dubarry could talk to her through her bedroom door, whilst he, -Rochefort, had to remain downstairs, like a servant waiting for a -message.</p> - -<p>Yes, he would escape, if for no other object than to pull Jean -Dubarry’s nose. An intense hatred of the whole Dubarry faction surged -up in his mind again. Jean, Chon, and the Countess, he did not know -which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> was the more detestable. He rose from his bed. The moon, which -was now near the full, was casting her light through the window, a ray -fell on the little steel saw that was lying on the table. He picked it -up and examined it again.</p> - -<p>The window had only one bar, but the bar was fairly thick and it seemed -impossible that he could ever cut through it with the instrument in his -hand. Yet M. de Thumery had prepared to do so and would he be daunted -by a business that an invalid had contemplated and would undoubtedly -have carried out had not Death intervened?</p> - -<p>He opened the sash of the window carefully and examined the bar. Then -he brought his chair to the window, and, standing on the chair and -holding either end of the saw between finger and thumb, drew its teeth -against the iron of the bar.</p> - -<p>It was one of those saws nicknamed “Dust of Iron,” so wonderfully -tempered and so keen that, properly used, no iron bar could stand -before them. After five minutes’ work Rochefort found that he could -use the thing properly and with effect, and it seemed to him that with -patience and diligence, working almost night and day, he could cut -through the bar top and bottom—in about ten years’ time.</p> - -<p>In fact, though five minutes’ work had produced a tiny furrow in -the bar sufficient to be felt with his thumb-nail, the whole thing -seemed hopeless. But only for a minute. He began to calculate. If five -minutes’ labour made a perceptible furrow in the iron of the bar, fifty -minutes would give him ten times that result, and a hundred minutes -twenty times. Two hours’ labour, then, ought to start him well on his -way through the business.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span></p> - -<p>But even with this calculation fresh in his mind, his heart quailed -before the thought of what he would have to do and to suffer before the -last cut of the saw and the crowning of his efforts.</p> - -<p>It was a life’s work compressed into days. The labours of a Titan -condensed and diminished, but not in the least lightened, and his heart -quailed at the thought, not because he was a coward, but because he -knew that if he once took the job in hand he would go through with it -to the end.</p> - -<p>He came from the window and putting the saw on the table, lay down on -the bed. He lay for a few minutes without moving, like a man exhausted. -Then all of a sudden, and as though some vital spring had been wound up -and set going, he rose from the bed, snatched the saw from the table -and approached the bar.</p> - -<p>From the next cell he could hear a faint rhythmical sound. It was the -sound of Ferminard snoring. Asleep and quite unconscious of the fact -that his precious box which he had placed in his pocket after receiving -it back, had been rifled of its contents.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE TWO PRISONERS (<em>continued</em>)</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">NEXT morning, Rochefort awoke after five hours’ sleep to find the -daylight streaming into his cell and Bonvallot opening his door to -bring him the early morning coffee that was served out to prisoners of -the first class.</p> - -<p>He had worked for three hours with the saw, and in his dreams he had -been still at work, cutting his way through iron bars in a quite -satisfactory manner, only to find that they joined together again when -cut.</p> - -<p>“Here is your coffee,” said Bonvallot, “and a roll—<em>déjeuner</em> is -served at noon—and the bed—have you found it comfortable?”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em> Comfortable!” grumbled the prisoner, “it seems to me I -have been sleeping on brickbats. Put the coffee on the table, Sergeant -Bonvallot—that is right, and now tell me, has your Governor, M. le -Capitaine Pierre Cousin, returned yet?”</p> - -<p>“He has, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“And when may I expect to see him?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, when—that I cannot tell you. Maybe to-morrow, maybe the next day, -maybe the day after, there are no fixed rules for the visits of the -governor through the castle of Vincennes.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe to-morrow, maybe the next day—but I wish to see him to-day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, that is what the prisoners are always saying. If the -governor were to obey the requests of everyone he would be run off his -legs.”</p> - -<p>“I do not wish to run him off his legs. I simply wish to see him.”</p> - -<p>“And what does monsieur wish to see him about?”</p> - -<p>“<em>Ma foi!</em> what about, that is a secret. I wish to have a private talk -with him.”</p> - -<p>“A private talk, why that is in any event impossible.”</p> - -<p>“Impossible, how do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“When the governor visits the prisoners, monsieur, he is always -accompanied by a soldier who remains in the room. That is one of the -rules of Vincennes.”</p> - -<p>“Confound your rules—There, you can leave me, I am going to get -up—and do not forget the writing materials when you come next. I will -write the governor a letter—or will some soldier have to read it over -his shoulder?”</p> - -<p>Bonvallot went out grinning. Rochefort had paid him well for the clean -linen and other attentions and he hoped for better payment still.</p> - -<p>Then Rochefort got up, still grumbling. The labours of the night before -at the bar, and his dreams in which those labours were continued, had -not improved his temper. He drank his coffee and ate his roll and then -turned to the window to see by daylight what progress he had made with -the saw. He was more than satisfied; quite elated also to find that -the top part of the bar, just where it entered the stone, had become -spindled by rust. Were he to succeed in cutting through the lower part -a vigorous wrench would, he felt assured, bring the whole thing away.</p> - -<p>He took the little saw from the place where he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span> hidden it the night -before, and, inspired with new energy, set to work.</p> - -<p>He felt no fear of being caught; the size of the saw made it easily -hidden, the cut in the bar would only be seen were a person to make a -close inspection. The noise of the saw was negligible.</p> - -<p>Whilst he was so engaged, Ferminard’s voice broke in upon his labours.</p> - -<p>“Good-morning, M. de Rochefort.”</p> - -<p>“Good-morning, M. Ferminard—what is it you want?”</p> - -<p>“Only a little conversation, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that is impossible as I am busy.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Oh hé</em>, busy! and what are you busy about?”</p> - -<p>“I? I am writing letters.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon,” said Ferminard. “I will call on you again.”</p> - -<p>As he laboured, pausing every five minutes for five minutes’ rest, a -necessity due to the cramped position in which he had to work, he heard -vague sounds from Ferminard’s cell, where that individual was also, it -would seem, at work.</p> - -<p>One might have fancied that two or three people were in there laughing -and disputing and now quarrelling.</p> - -<p>It was Ferminard at work on one of his infernal productions, tragedy -or comedy, it would be impossible to say, but making more noise in the -close confines of a prison cell than it was ever likely to make in the -world.</p> - -<p>After <em>déjeuner</em>, when Rochefort, tired out, was lying on his bed, the -voice of Ferminard again made itself heard.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span></p> - -<p>“M. de Rochefort—are you inclined for a little talk?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied M. de Rochefort. “But you may talk as much as you like -and I will promise not to interrupt—for I am going to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“Well, before you go to sleep let me tell you of my new design.”</p> - -<p>“Speak.”</p> - -<p>“I have torn up the play I was writing.”</p> - -<p>“Why, M. Ferminard, have you done that?”</p> - -<p>“In order to write a better one.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, that is decidedly a good idea.”</p> - -<p>“A drama full of action.”</p> - -<p>“Hum-hum.”</p> - -<p>“M. de Rochefort, you are not listening to me.”</p> - -<p>“Eh—what! Where am I—ah, yes, go on, go on—you were saying that you -had torn up a play.”</p> - -<p>“In order to write a better one, and I am introducing you as one of my -characters.”</p> - -<p>“You are putting me in your play?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, I am putting you in my play.”</p> - -<p>“Well, M. Ferminard, I forbid it, that’s all. I will not be put in a -play.”</p> - -<p>“But I am putting myself in also, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Bon Dieu!</em> what impudence!”</p> - -<p>“It is not impudence, but gratitude, monsieur. I will not hide it from -you that, despite what brains I have, I am of small extraction; one of -the <em>rafataille</em>, as they say in the south. But you have always talked -to me as your equal; and if I have put myself in the same piece as you -it is only as your servant, imprisoned in the next cell to you in the -dungeons of the castle of Pompadiglione.”</p> - -<p>“And where the devil is Pompadiglione<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“It is the name of the castle in my play. Well, monsieur, the first -scene is just as it is here, now. The count and his servant, imprisoned -just as we are in adjoining cells, with a hole in the partition wall -through which they can speak to one another, and the servant has -discovered a knotted rope, a big sou and a staple just as I have -discovered them. Well, monsieur, the count is to be beheaded, and his -execution is fixed for the next day, but the faithful servant hands him -through the hole in the wall the means for escape, the rope, the big -sou containing a saw, and the staple. The count escapes that night.”</p> - -<p>“One moment, M. Ferminard, you say he escaped that night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“How did he escape?”</p> - -<p>“He escaped by cutting away the bar of his cell with the little saw -contained in the sou.”</p> - -<p>“Oh. And do you fancy he could do that in one night?”</p> - -<p>“Not in reality, monsieur, but on the stage he could.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, well, I know nothing of these things—well, he escapes, this -count—what then?”</p> - -<p>“Next morning his escape is discovered and the faithful servant—that -is me—refuses to give any explanation, though the hole in the wall has -been discovered—he is dumb.”</p> - -<p>“Dumb—good heavens, M. Ferminard—that part would never suit you.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me, monsieur, but I believe it would—well, as I was saying, -the count, who had indeed escaped by means of the rope from his cell, -had not managed to escape from the precincts of the castle. The rope -was not long enough and he had to take refuge on a ledge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> where he is -shown in the next scene crouching and watching the faithful servant -being led forth to execution in his place.”</p> - -<p>“Well?”</p> - -<p>“That is as far as I have got, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you have not fixed on the end of your play yet?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“But surely, M. Ferminard, the end is the most important thing in a -play?”</p> - -<p>Ferminard coughed, irritated, as all geniuses are by criticism.</p> - -<p>“Why,” said he, “I thought monsieur said he could not tell a play from -a washing-bill.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps, yet even in a washing-bill, M. Ferminard, the end is the most -important part, since it sums up the whole matter in francs and sous. -But do not let me discourage you, for should you fail to find a good -ending I will be able to supply you with one. An idea has occurred to -me.”</p> - -<p>“And what is that idea, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“I have, yet, to think it out. However, go on with your business in -your own way and we will talk of the matter when you have finished. I -wish now to sleep.”</p> - -<p>He felt irritated with Ferminard. Ferminard was the man who possessed -the rope which was the only means of escape, and Ferminard, he felt, -would refuse the rope to him, just as he had refused the big sou. -By using arguments, threats, or entreaties he might be able to make -Ferminard give him the rope, but he was not the man to threaten, -entreat, or argue with an inferior. Besides, he was too lazy. The -cutting of the window-bar was absorbing all his energies.</p> - -<p>Besides, why waste time and tongue-power to obtain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> a thing that could -be obtained when desired by a little finesse. When the time came he -would obtain the rope from Ferminard just as he had obtained the saw -which Ferminard fancied still to be contained in the sou. Rochefort, -whilst feeling friendly towards the dramatist, had very little respect -for him; he might be a good actor, but it was evident that he was very -much of a child. Besides, he was—as he himself confessed—one of the -<em>rafataille</em>, a man of the people, and though M. de Rochefort was not -in the least a snob, he looked upon the people from the viewpoint of -his class. He was not in the least ashamed of the deception he had -practiced on Ferminard. The little saw did not belong to Ferminard, he -had found it by chance, and it was the property of the dead M. Thumery, -or his heirs.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE TWO PRISONERS (<em>continued</em>)</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE next day passed without a visit from the governor, and the next. -Rochefort ceased to ask about him; he resented this neglect, now, as a -personal insult. He forgot that he was incarcerated under the name of -La Porte, and that any neglect of M. La Porte, though unpleasant to M. -de Rochefort, need not be taken as a personal affront.</p> - -<p>He would have resented the thing more had it not been that he was very -busy.</p> - -<p>On the afternoon of the fourth day his work was complete. The bar was -not quite divided, but sufficiently so to yield to a strong wrench. -With his table-knife, which he had been allowed to keep, he had scraped -away the rust where the upper part of the bar was mortised into the -stone and had verified the weakness of this part of the attachment.</p> - -<p>He had fixed upon midnight as the hour for his evasion, and nothing -remained now but to obtain the rope from the unsuspecting Ferminard.</p> - -<p>The latter had also not been idle during the last four days. Happy as -a child with a toy, the ingenious Ferminard had not noticed the faint -sound of the saw in the next cell. If it reached him at all at times, -he no doubt put it down to the noise of a rat.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span></p> - -<p>Never before in his life had he possessed so much paper, ink, and -time to write in. Up to this his leisure had been mostly consumed by -taverns, good companions, women, and the necessity of getting drunk -which his unfortunate temperament imposed on him. Also, in hunting for -loans. Now he found himself housed, fed, and cared for, protected from -drink and supplied with all the materials his imagination required -for the moment. So, for the moment, he was happy and busy, and his -happiness would have been more complete had Rochefort been a better -listener.</p> - -<p>Towards dusk, Rochefort considered that the time had come to negotiate -the business of the rope with M. Ferminard. Accordingly, he drew the -bed away from the wall, and, kneeling down, approached his head to the -opening.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur Ferminard.”</p> - -<p>“Ho! M. de Rochefort, is that you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is I—let us talk for awhile.”</p> - -<p>“With pleasure, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>He heard Ferminard’s bed being moved away from the wall. Then came the -dramatist’s voice.</p> - -<p>“I am here, monsieur. I was asleep when you called me and I was -dreaming that I was at the Maison Gambrinus drinking some Flemish beer -that Turgis had just imported, and that there was a hole in the bottom -of my mug, so that as fast as I drank so fast did the beer run out. I -got nothing but froth, and even that froth had a taste of soap-suds. -Now tell me one thing, M. de Rochefort.”</p> - -<p>“Yes?”</p> - -<p>“Why is it that when one dreams, one’s dreams are always so -unsatisfactory? Whenever I meet a pretty girl in dreamland, she always -turns into an old woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span> when I kiss her, and whenever I find myself -in good company, I am either dressed in rags, or, what is worse, not -dressed at all. If I go to collect money I always enter by mistake -the house of some man to whom I owe a debt, and if I find myself on -the stage I am always acting some part, the lines of which I have -forgotten.”</p> - -<p>“The whole world is unsatisfactory, M. Ferminard, and as dreamland is -part of the world, why, I suppose it is unsatisfactory too. Now as to -that play of yours whose ending you insisted on describing to me this -morning, that is like dreamland and the world—unsatisfactory. The -ending does not satisfy me in the least.”</p> - -<p>“In what way?”</p> - -<p>“I have thought of a better.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you have. Well, please explain to me what you mean.”</p> - -<p>“I will, certainly. But first let me see that rope which you told me -you had discovered, and the discovery of which gave you the idea for -this play of yours.”</p> - -<p>“The rope, but what can you want with the rope?”</p> - -<p>“I will show you when it is in my hands, or at least I will explain my -meaning; come, M. Ferminard, the rope, for without it I cannot show you -what I want.”</p> - -<p>“Wait, monsieur, and I will get it.”</p> - -<p>In a moment one end of the precious rope was in Rochefort’s hands. He -pulled it through into his cell, noted the length, the thickness and -the knots upon it, and was satisfied.</p> - -<p>“Well, monsieur?” said the impatient Ferminard.</p> - -<p>“Well, M. Ferminard, now I have the rope in my hands I will tell you -exactly how your play is going to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span> end, in reality. The count—that -is myself, for since you have put me into your play I feel myself -justified in acting in it—the count is going to pull his bed to -the window of his cell, tie this precious rope to the bedpost, and, -crawling out of the window and dangling like a spider, he is going to -descend to the ground. He will not remain stuck on a ledge, as in your -version of the play, he will reach the ground—then he will pick up -his heels and run to Paris, and there he will pull M. de Choiseul’s -nose—or make friends with him.”</p> - -<p>“But you cannot,” replied Ferminard, not knowing exactly how to take -the other.</p> - -<p>“And why cannot I?”</p> - -<p>“Because, monsieur, the bar of your window would permit you, perhaps, -to lower your rope, but it would prevent you from following it.”</p> - -<p>“No, M. Ferminard, it would not.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, well, then, it must be a most accommodating bar and have altered -considerably in strength since you spoke to me of it first.”</p> - -<p>“It has.”</p> - -<p>“In what way?”</p> - -<p>“Why, it has been filed almost in two.”</p> - -<p>“Ah,” cried Ferminard, “what is that you say? Filed in two—and since -when?”</p> - -<p>“Since we had our first talk together.”</p> - -<p>“You have cut it then—with what?”</p> - -<p>“Heavens! can’t you guess?”</p> - -<p>“Your table-knife.”</p> - -<p>“Oaf!”</p> - -<p>“You had, then, a knife, or file, or saw or something with you.”</p> - -<p>“M. Ferminard, prison does not seem to improve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> your intelligence. I -cut it with the little saw contained in the big sou.”</p> - -<p>“But that is impossible, for you had not the sou two minutes in your -possession.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort laughed. “Open your sou, then, and see what is in it.”</p> - -<p>Leaning on his elbow, he laughed to himself as he heard Ferminard -moving so as to get the sou from his pocket to open it.</p> - -<p>Then he heard the voice of Ferminard who was speaking to himself. “It -is gone—he must have taken it—never!—yet it is gone.”</p> - -<p>The astonishment evident in Ferminard’s voice at the trick that had -been played on him acted upon Rochefort just as the sudden stripping of -the bedclothes from a person asleep acts on the sleeper.</p> - -<p>It was not stupidity on the part of Ferminard that had prevented him -from guessing with what instrument the bar had been cut, it was his -complete belief in Rochefort’s honour. His mind, of its own accord, -could not imagine the Comte de Rochefort playing him a trick like that, -and his voice now betrayed what was passing in his mind.</p> - -<p>Had Ferminard been a suspicious man, and had he discovered the -abstraction of the saw on his own account, anything he might have said -would not have shown Rochefort what he saw now.</p> - -<p>He felt as though, by some horrible accident, he had shot and injured -his own good faith, fair name and honour.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mon Dieu!</em>” said he. “What have I done!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">M. DE ROCHEFORT REVIEWS HIMSELF</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">FOR a moment he said nothing more. And then: “M. Ferminard?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, M. de Rochefort?”</p> - -<p>“I have been a very great fool, it seems to me, for I did not in the -least consider the fact, when I played that deception upon you, that it -was an unworthy one. You believed in me. You had formed an opinion of -me. You paid me the compliment of never imagining that I would deceive -you. Well, honestly and as between man and man, I looked on the matter -more in the light of a joke. I said to myself, ‘How he will stare when -he finds I have outwitted him.’ It was the trick of a child, for it -seems to me one grows childish in prison. Give me that big sou, M. -Ferminard.”</p> - -<p>Ferminard passed the coin through the hole and Rochefort, rising, -opened it, put the little saw in, closed it, and returned it to the -other.</p> - -<p>“And here is the rope,” said he. “I have no more use for it.”</p> - -<p>“But, monsieur,” said Ferminard. He paused, and for a moment said -nothing more. Ferminard was, in fact, covered with confusion. -Rochefort’s unworthy trick had struck him on the cheek, so to say, and -left it burning. He felt ashamed. Ashamed of Rochefort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span> for playing -the trick and ashamed of himself for having found it out, and ashamed -of Rochefort knowing that he—Ferminard—thought less of him. Then, -breaking silence:</p> - -<p>“It is nothing, M. de Rochefort. If you are tired of prison why should -you remain? It is true that there may be danger for you from M. de -Choiseul, but one does nothing without danger threatening one in this -world, it seems to me. Why, even walking across the street one may be -run over by a carriage, as a friend of mine was some time ago.”</p> - -<p>“My good Ferminard,” said Rochefort, dropping for the first time the -prefix “monsieur,” “you are talking for the sake of talking, and for -the kind reason that you wish to hide from yourself and me what you are -thinking. And you are thinking that the Comte de Rochefort is a man -whom you trusted, but whom you do not trust any longer.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur—monsieur!”</p> - -<p>“Let me finish. If that is not what you are thinking you must be a -fool, and as you are not a fool that is what is in your mind. Well, you -are right and wrong. I do not know my own character entirely, but I do -know that when I stop to think I am sometimes at a loss to imagine why -I have committed certain actions; some of these actions that startle me -are good, and some are bad; but they are not committed by the Comte de -Rochefort so much as by something that urges the Comte de Rochefort to -commit them. I fancy that some men always think before they act, and -other men frequently act before they think, but I do know this, that -once I am propelled on a course of action I don’t stop to think at all -till the business is over one way or another.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span></p> - -<p>“Now, when I took that saw of yours, I said to myself, ‘Here is a -joke I will play on M. Ferminard. What a temper he will be in when -he finds that I have outwitted him. He wishes to prevent my escape -so that he may not be left in loneliness? We will see.’ Well, M. -Ferminard, embarked on that course of action, I never stopped to think -that all the time I was cutting that bar I was violating your trust -in me. When I found that you did not open the sou to examine whether -its contents were safe, I should have paused to take counsel with -myself and inquire if liberty were worth the deception of a good and -honest mind which placed its faith in me. But I did not pause to take -counsel with myself, and for two reasons. First, as I said before, I -never stop to think when I am in action; secondly, I am so unused to -meeting with good and honest minds that I did not suspect one was in -the next cell to me. It is true, M. Ferminard. The men with whom I -have always lived have been men very much like myself. Men who do not -think much, and who, when they do think, are full of suspicion as a -rule. We are robbed by our servants, our wives, and our mistresses. We -cheat each other, not at cards, but with phrases and at the game of -Love, and so forth. You said you were of small extraction and one of -the <em>rafataille</em>—well, it is among the <em>rafataille</em>, among the People, -during the last few days that I have met three individuals who have -struck me as being the only worthy individuals it has been my lot to -meet. They are yourself, Monsieur Lavenne, and little Javotte, a girl -whom you do not know.”</p> - -<p>“Believe me, monsieur,” said Ferminard, “I have no unworthy thought -concerning you. At first, yes, but now after what you have said, no. I -am like that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> myself, and had I been in your place, I would, I am very -sure, have done as you did.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps,” replied Rochefort. “But I cannot use the rope, so here it is -and I will leave my release from prison to God and M. de Sartines.”</p> - -<p>He began to push the rope through the hole. It would not go. Ferminard -was pushing it back.</p> - -<p>“No, M. de Rochefort—one moment till I speak—I have been blinded to -my best interests by my desire to keep you as a companion. You must -escape, you must do as Fate dictated to you, and to me, when she gave -us the fruits of the labours of M. de Thumery. Honestly, now that I -think of the matter, I do not trust M. de Sartines a whit. He put us -here to keep us out of the way. Well, it seems to me that considering -what we have done and what we know, it may be in his interest to keep -us here always. Take the rope, M. de Rochefort, use it, follow the -dictates of Fate, and don’t forget Ferminard. You will be able to free -me, perhaps, once you have gained freedom and the pardon of M. de -Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort said nothing for a moment. He was thinking.</p> - -<p>“M. de Rochefort,” went on the other, “the more I consider this matter, -the more do I see the pointing of Fate. Take the rope and use it.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, then,” said Rochefort. “I will use it for your freedom as -well as mine. We will both escape.”</p> - -<p>“Impossible. How can I come through this hole?”</p> - -<p>“I will find a means. It is now ten o’clock, or at least I heard the -chime a moment ago when I was talking to you. Be prepared to leave your -cell. Can you climb down a rope<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, I have done so once in my early days.”</p> - -<p>“Well, be prepared to do so again.”</p> - -<p>“But I do not see your meaning in the least.”</p> - -<p>“Never mind, you will soon.”</p> - -<p>“You frighten me.”</p> - -<p>“By my faith,” said Rochefort, laughing, “I am not easily frightened, -but if I were, I believe I should be frightened now. Put back your bed, -M. Ferminard, and when Bonvallot visits you on his last round pretend -to be asleep.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE ESCAPE</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">“VERY well, M. de Rochefort,” replied Ferminard. “I will do as you -tell me, though as I have just said, I do not know your meaning in the -least.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort heard him putting his bed back in its place. Then he set -about his preparations. He placed the rope under the mattress of his -own bed, and stripping the coverlet off, took the upper sheet away. -Having replaced the coverlet, he began tearing the sheet into long -strips. The sheet was about four feet broad and it gave him eight -strips, each about six inches broad by five feet in length. Four of -these he placed under the coverlet of his bed just as he had placed the -rope under the mattress, the other four he put in his pockets.</p> - -<p>Then he sat down on his chair, and, placing his elbows on the table and -his chin between his hands, began to review his plans, or rather the -new modification of them which the inclusion of Ferminard in his flight -necessitated.</p> - -<p>When Bonvallot appeared at his door on his last round of inspection, -Rochefort was seated like this.</p> - -<p>“Ah, ha!” said he, turning his head, “you are earlier to-night, it -seems to me.”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur,” replied Bonvallot, “I am not before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> my time, for the -clock of the courtyard has struck eleven.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed. I did not hear it. Sound does not carry very well among these -stone walls, and though the courtyard clock is close to this cell, -and though it doesn’t whisper over its work, the sound is scarcely -perceptible. A man might shout in my cell, Monsieur Bonvallot, without -being heard very far.”</p> - -<p>“My faith, you are right,” said Bonvallot. “We had a lunatic of a -prisoner in No. 32 down the corridor, and it seemed to me that he -spent all his time shouting, but he disturbed no one. Our inn is well -constructed, you see, monsieur, so that the guests may have a quiet -time.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort rose from his chair, walked to the door, shut it, and put his -back against it.</p> - -<p>“Hi,” said Bonvallot, who had been bending to see if the water-pitcher -were empty. “What are you doing, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing. I wish to have a word with you. I am leaving your inn -to-night and wish to settle my bill. Do not shout, you will not be -heard, and if you move from the place where you are standing——”</p> - -<p>Bonvallot, who had grown pale at the first words, suddenly, with head -down and arms outstretched, made a dash at Rochefort. The Count, -slipping aside, managed to trip him up, and next moment the gallant -Bonvallot was on the floor, half-stunned, bleeding from a wound on his -forehead, and with Rochefort kneeling across him, a knee on each arm so -as to keep him still.</p> - -<p>“Now see what you have done,” said the victor. “You might have killed -yourself. The wound is nothing, however, and you can charge for it in -the bill<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>Bonvallot heaved a few inches as though trying to rise, then lay still.</p> - -<p>“There is no use in resisting,” went on the Count, “you have no chance -against me, Monsieur Bonvallot, nor have I any wish to harm you. -Besides, you will be well paid by me and that wound on your forehead -will prove that you did your duty like a man. Now turn on your face, I -wish to tie your hands for appearance’s sake.”</p> - -<p>Bonvallot in turning made an attempt to break loose and rise, but the -Count’s science was too much for him. Literally sitting on his back, -or rather on his shoulder-blades, Rochefort, with a strip of the sheet -which he took from his pocket, tied the captive’s wrists together. Then -he tied the ankles.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Bonvallot, craning his face round, “I make no further -resistance, but for the love of the Virgin, bind my knees together and -also gag me so that it may be seen that I did my duty.”</p> - -<p>“Rest assured,” said Rochefort.</p> - -<p>He bound the unfortunate’s knees and elbows, made a gag out of a -handkerchief and put it in his mouth. Then, taking ten louis from his -pocket, he showed them to the trussed one, and dropped them one by one -into the water-pitcher.</p> - -<p>Then he took Bonvallot’s keys, left the cell, opened the door of -Ferminard’s prison and found that gentleman seated on his bed, a vague -figure in the light of the moon, a few stray beams of which were -struggling through the window.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em>” said Ferminard, “what has happened?”</p> - -<p>Rochefort, instead of replying, seized him by the arm, and half -pushing, half pulling him, led him into the corridor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span></p> - -<p>“Now,” said he, “quick; we have no time to waste, I have tied up -Bonvallot; but when he does not return to the guard-room they are sure -to search. There he is. He is not hurt. Come, help me to pull the bed -to the window.”</p> - -<p>Ferminard, after a glance at Bonvallot lying on the floor, obeyed -mechanically. They got the bed close up with the head-rail under the -window. Rochefort tied the rope to the head-rail, and, standing on the -bed and opening the sash, seized the bar. It came away in his hands, -and then, flinging it on the bed, he seized the rope which he had -coiled and flung it out.</p> - -<p>This done, he leaned out of the window-place and looked down.</p> - -<p>The moonlight lit the castle wall and the dangling rope and showed -the black shadow of the moat, a terrific sight that made Rochefort’s -stomach crawl and his throat close. This was no castle wall which he -had to descend. It was like looking over the cliff at the world’s end -or one of those terrific bastions of cloud which one sees sometimes -banking the sky before a storm. The moonlight it was that lent this -touch of vastness to the prospect below, a prospect that made the sweat -stand out on the palms of Rochefort’s hands and his soul to contract on -itself.</p> - -<p>It was a prospect to be met by the unthinking end of man if one wished -for any chance of success, so with a warning to Ferminard not to look -before he came, and having wedged two pillows under the rope where it -rested on the sill, Rochefort got one leg over the sill, straddled it, -got the other leg out and then turned on his face. He was now lying on -his stomach across the pillow that was forming a pad for the rope, and -as bad luck would have it, a knot in the rope just at this point<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span> did -not make the position any more comfortable. Then he slowly worked his -body downwards till he was supported only by his elbows; supporting -himself entirely with his left elbow, he seized with his right hand the -rope where it rested on the cushion, gave up his elbow hold and with -his left hand seized the sill.</p> - -<p>He was hanging now with one hand grasping the sill, the other, the -rope. The sill was no longer a window-sill, it was the tangible world, -to release his hold upon it and to trust entirely to the rope required -an effort of will far greater than one would think, so great that even -the plucky mind of Rochefort refused the idea for a moment, but only -for a moment, the next he was swinging loose.</p> - -<p>But for the pad made by the pillow, the rope would have rested so -close to the bevelled stone that he might not have been able to seize -it. As it was, his knuckles were bruised and cut, and, as he swung in -descending, now his shoulder, now his knee came in contact with the -wall. As the pendulum lengthened, these oscillations became terrific. -Then, all at once he recognized that the business was over; he was only -fifteen feet or so from the ground.</p> - -<p>The rope was some six feet short, and at the last few feet he dropped, -landed safely and then looked up at the wall and the window from which -he had come.</p> - -<p>Looking up it seemed nothing, and as he stood watching, and just as -the clock of Vincennes was chiming the quarter after eleven, he saw a -leg protrude from the window, then the body of Ferminard appeared, and -Rochefort held his breath as he watched the legs clutching themselves -round the rope and the body swinging free. He seized the rope-end and -held it to steady it. He had no reason at all, now, to fear; Ferminard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span> -seemed as cool and methodical as a spider in his movements, came down -as calmly as a spider comes down its thread, released his hold at the -proper moment and landed safely.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em> but you did that easily,” whispered Rochefort, filled with -admiration and not knowing that Ferminard’s courage was due mainly -to an imagination that was not very keen and a head that vertigo did -not easily affect. “Now let us keep to the shadow of the moat for a -moment till that cloud comes over the moon. There are sentries on the -battlements.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” whispered Ferminard, “it just occurred to me as I was -coming down the rope that when our flight is discovered, they may hunt -along the roads for us, but they will not warn the gates of Paris to be -on the look-out for us, simply because, were we caught, some of M. de -Choiseul’s agents might be at the catching, there would be talk, and -the discovery might be made that we had been imprisoned secretly to -keep us out of M. de Choiseul’s way.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Ma foi!</em>” said Rochefort, “there is truth in that—however, it -remains to be seen. Ah, here comes the shadow.”</p> - -<p>A cloud was slowly drawing across the moon’s face, and in the deep -shadow that swept across castle and road and country, the two fugitives -scrambled from the moat, found the road and started towards Paris.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">ROCHEFORT’S PLAN</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">THAT night, or, rather, early next morning, the Vicomte de Chartres was -returning to his house in the Rue Malaquais and had just entered the -street when, against the setting moon, he saw a form coming towards him -which he thought he recognized.</p> - -<p>It was Rochefort.</p> - -<p>Chartres was one of the few men in Paris whom Rochefort numbered as -his bosom friends. He could not believe his eyes at first, and when -Rochefort spoke, Chartres scarcely believed his ears.</p> - -<p>Rochefort, of whose flight all Paris was talking, Rochefort, the man -who was supposed to be far beyond the frontier, Rochefort in the Rue -Malaquais, walking along as calmly and jauntily as though nothing had -happened.</p> - -<p>“Ah, my dear fellow,” said Rochefort as they shook hands, “what a -fortunate meeting! Where have you sprung from?”</p> - -<p>Chartres broke into a laugh.</p> - -<p>“Where have I sprung from? You to ask that question! On the contrary, -my dear fellow, it is for me to ask where you have sprung from?”</p> - -<p>“Nowhere,” replied Rochefort, also laughing, “or at least from a place -I cannot talk of here in the street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span> I want shelter for the night and -a change of clothes; here is your house and we are both about the same -size, and I know you have always half a dozen new suits that you have -never worn. So, if you want my story, take me and clothe me, and let -me rest for a while before I set out on my mission to hunt for M. de -Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“To hunt for M. de Choiseul! <em>Bon Dieu!</em> Are not you aware that he is -ransacking Paris and all France for you?”</p> - -<p>“Then we are both on the same business, and that being so, I think it -is highly probable we shall meet.”</p> - -<p>He followed Chartres into the house, where in the library and armoury -his host lit lamps and produced wine.</p> - -<p>The clock on the mantel pointed to two o’clock.</p> - -<p>“And now, my dear fellow,” said Chartres, “tell me all about yourself, -where have you been, what have you been doing, and what is this -nonsense you are saying about hunting for M. de Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“Well, as to what I have been doing, I can answer you simply that I -have been in retirement in the country.”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“In the Castle of Vincennes.”</p> - -<p>“The Castle of Vincennes!”</p> - -<p>“Precisely. Sartines put me there to hide me from Choiseul. I would -not tell you this only that I know you are entirely to be trusted. He -did not want Choiseul to lay his hands on me, so he arrested me under -another name, but with my consent, and popped me into Vincennes, where -I have been for the last few days.”</p> - -<p>“Yes?”</p> - -<p>“Well, my dear Chartres, no sooner did I find myself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> in prison there -than I found that I did not like it.”</p> - -<p>“I can understand that.”</p> - -<p>“And though Sartines had put me there for my own good—so he said—and -to keep me from being imprisoned by Choiseul, it began to dawn on me -that I had been a fool.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, that began to dawn on you.”</p> - -<p>“I said to myself, ‘Sartines is no doubt the best soul in the world, -but the best souls are sometimes selfish.’ I said to myself, ‘Sartines -has compromised himself in a way by playing this game with Choiseul, -and hiding me from him.’ I said to myself, ‘Sartines, however kind he -may be, is not the man to compromise himself by letting me out whilst -Choiseul has any power in France.’ In fact, I felt that were I to -remain passive, I would be saved from M. de Choiseul, but I would still -be a prisoner, and that, perhaps, for years, so I determined to escape, -to go straight to Choiseul and to tell him frankly the truth about the -business for which he wished to apprehend me.”</p> - -<p>“I have heard that you killed a man,” said Chartres.</p> - -<p>“I did. And that man was one of Choiseul’s agents, but he was a ruffian -who was molesting a girl, and whom I caught in the act. I followed him, -he attacked me and I killed him in fair fight.”</p> - -<p>“Can the girl give evidence?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Then why on earth, my dear fellow, did you resist arrest that night -when M. Camus was deputed to arrest you? I had the whole story from -Monpavon.”</p> - -<p>“I resisted arrest because I wanted to go to Paris to meet a woman who -had given me an appointment.”</p> - -<p>The Vicomte de Chartres, who was five years older<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span> than Rochefort in -time, and fifty in discretion, moved in his chair uneasily.</p> - -<p>He was fond of Rochefort, and nothing had surprised him more in the -last few days than the Rochefort episode. The fact that Rochefort had -killed a man was easily understandable, but that Rochefort had evaded -arrest instead of facing the business was an action that he could not -understand, simply because it was an action unlike Rochefort.</p> - -<p>Here had a man gone against his true nature and placed himself in the -last position, that of a murderer flying from justice—for what reason? -To keep an appointment with a woman.</p> - -<p>Unhappily the reason cleared everything up.</p> - -<p>It was exactly—arguing from the reason—the thing that Rochefort might -be expected to do.</p> - -<p>“But did you not consider that for the sake of keeping this confounded -appointment you were risking everything—losing everything. <em>Mon Dieu!</em> -it makes me shudder. Did you not think, my dear man, did you not think?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, think!” said the other, “a lot you would think were you in that -position. Had he deputed any man for the business but Camus, it might -have been different; but to be told, in effect, by Camus, a man I -despise, that I was not to go to Paris, but to remain at Versailles, -a prisoner of Choiseul’s, well, it was too much! No, I did not think. -There is no use in saying to me what I ought to have done. I ought, of -course, to have followed Camus like a lamb, faced Choiseul like a lion, -and cleared the matter up. As it was, I showed the front of a lion to -Camus and the tail of a fox to Choiseul. That was bad policy—but it -was inevitable. It seems to me, Chartres, that the whole of this was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> -like a play written by Fate for me to act in. Camus had been my friend. -After I had rescued that girl, of whom I told you, from Choiseul’s -ruffianly agent, Camus tried to assault her and I struck him in the -face. That was Fate. He did not return the blow or seek a duel, he -wanted revenge, and behold, when Choiseul put out his hand for someone -to arrest me, whom should he employ but Camus—that also was Fate. The -girl I served is the servant of the woman I spoke of, and the woman was -the friend of Choiseul’s dearest enemy, the Comtesse Dubarry. That was -Fate. To serve the woman I mixed myself up with the business of the -Presentation, and so have given Choiseul an extra grudge against me. -That was Fate. And stay—just before my row with Camus, he had imparted -to me a plot which Choiseul was preparing against the Dubarry, a plot -which I refused to mix myself with and the gist of which I disclosed to -the Dubarry. There again was Fate.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mon Dieu!</em>” said Chartres, “what a tangle you have got yourself into. -But tell me this, does Choiseul know that you disclosed this plot of -his to the Dubarry?”</p> - -<p>“He is sure to know. Camus is certain to have told him that he -disclosed the business to me, and as I visited the Dubarry’s house that -same night, and as I believe his agents were watching the house—there -you are.”</p> - -<p>“You visited the house of the Dubarry the same night that Camus told -you of the plot—why did you do such a foolish thing?”</p> - -<p>“Fate. I escorted the girl I had rescued home to see her safe—and what -house did she bring me to but the house of the Dubarrys. I was giving -her a kiss in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span> the passage when Jean Dubarry appeared, he invited me -in, I came, the woman I spoke of was there, and at the sight of her, -knowing that she was the Countess’ friend, I flung in my part with the -Dubarrys and told of the plot. I was not breaking a trust, I had made -no promise of secrecy, the thing had disgusted me—and I told.”</p> - -<p>“And the name of this woman for whose sake you have got yourself into -this dreadful mess?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, now you are asking me to tell something that I would not tell to -anyone but yourself—it was Mademoiselle Fontrailles.”</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle Fontrailles—why only yesterday——”</p> - -<p>“Yes?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I heard—it is said—but I don’t know how much truth there is in -the story, that she is in love with Camus.”</p> - -<p>Rochefort laughed.</p> - -<p>“Camus again and Fate again.”</p> - -<p>“But there may be no truth in it. Some fool told me, I forget who, -Joyeuse, I think. You know how stories run about Paris.”</p> - -<p>“It is true,” said Rochefort, “it is the only thing wanting to make -the business complete. Whilst I have been tucked away at Vincennes, -Monsieur Camus has improved his time. You know the way he has with -women. Well, I do not care; that is to say about the girl, but I will -make things even with Camus.”</p> - -<p>“First, my dear fellow, make things right with Choiseul, that is to -say, if you can. And if I were you, I would not trouble about Camus or -the girl. She will be punished enough if she has anything to do with -him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we will see,” said Rochefort. “We will see, when I have finished -with Choiseul. Is he in Paris?”</p> - -<p>“No, he is at Versailles, but he is coming to Paris to-morrow, or -rather to-day, since it is now nearly three o’clock in the morning. I -know he is coming, simply because he has invited me to a reception at -his house in the Faubourg St. Honoré.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, he is holding a reception. When?”</p> - -<p>“This very day at nine o’clock in the evening.”</p> - -<p>“Good. I will go to it.”</p> - -<p>“You will go to it—but he will arrest you!”</p> - -<p>“Not in his own house. I would be his guest.”</p> - -<p>“But you have not been invited, and so you would not be his guest.”</p> - -<p>“Well, my dear Chartres, you know how Choiseul always permits a friend -of his to bring a friend to his receptions. You must take me with you.”</p> - -<p>“Take you with me! My dear fellow, you are asking what is quite -impossible.”</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“Why—well, to be frank with you, it is necessary for me to stand well -with Choiseul, and if I were to do that I would damage my position at -Court.”</p> - -<p>“What I like about you,” said Rochefort, “is your perfect frankness. -Another man would have excused himself, said that he had already -invited a friend, and so forth; but you state your own selfish reason, -and that is precisely what I would have done in your place. Well, I can -assure you that you will not damage your position in the least. First -of all, I am going to make peace with Choiseul; secondly, if I fail, -you can tell him that the whole fault was mine and that you understood -from me that I had put myself right with him. I will bear you out in -that. There is no danger to you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span> and think what fun it will be to see -his face when I appear.”</p> - -<p>Chartres hung on this fascinating prospect for a moment.</p> - -<p>“All the same,” said he, “I think, in your own interests, you are -wrong—the whole thing is mad.”</p> - -<p>“So is the whole situation, my dear man. I want to get a word alone -with Choiseul. I cannot reach him in any other way. If I went to see -him at Versailles I would be taken by the guards and I would only see -him across drawn swords. If I went to interview him at his house the -<em>concierge</em> would pass me to the major-domo, and the major-domo would -show me into a waiting-room, and Choiseul, ten to one, when he heard -I had called, would order my arrest without even seeing me. No. This -reception of his was arranged by Fate for me, of that I feel sure, as -sure as I am that I will make things even with Camus before to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“You seem to count a good deal on Fate, yet it seems to me she has not -treated you very kindly.”</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said Rochefort, laughing, “that is because you do not know how -she treated me in the Castle of Vincennes. I assure you, I have made -entire friends with the lady——” He paused for a moment and then -looked up at Chartres.</p> - -<p>“When we talk of Fate, my friend, we always refer to our own persons -and fortunes; when we receive a buffet in life we never consider that -the shock may come to us, not directly from Fate, but indirectly as -the result of a blow struck at some other person, just as at the Lycée -Louis le Grand, one boy would strike another so that he would fall -against the next, and he against the next. Well, Fate in this case is -decidedly on my side, since she protected me till now at Vincennes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span> -and gave me my release on the day of Choiseul’s reception, and threw -me into your arms in the Rue Malaquais. If she is with me she cannot -be with the persons who are against me, that is to say, Camus and the -Fontrailles, if she cares for Camus.</p> - -<p>“Fate, my dear Chartres, seems to me to be hitting at these two, and I -reckon the blows I have received, not as blows aimed directly against -me, but as blows I have received indirectly and by <em>contre coup</em>.”</p> - -<p>“You are becoming a philosopher,” said Chartres, laughing.</p> - -<p>“Well, we will see,” replied Rochefort. “I believe I am on the winning -side, the indications are with me—well, do you still refuse to take me -with you to Choiseul’s?”</p> - -<p>“No, my dear Rochefort, I do not refuse, simply because I cannot—and -for this reason: The thing you propose is distasteful to me, but it is -a matter of urgency with you, and though you may be wrong, still, if -the case was reversed, I know you would do for me what I am going to do -for you. I will take you to Choiseul’s.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Rochefort. “I will never forget it to you. And now as -to clothes. I am unable to go or send for anything to my place, can you -dress me as well as take me to this pleasant party of Choiseul’s?”</p> - -<p>“Without doubt. My wardrobe is at your disposal—and now, if you will -have no more wine, it is time to go to bed. I will have a bed made up -for you.”</p> - -<p>He called a servant and gave instructions as to the preparation of a -room. As they were going upstairs, Rochefort remembered Ferminard, with -whom he had parted outside the walls of Paris.</p> - -<p>Ferminard had refused to enter by the Porte St.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span> Antoine, preferring -to make his way round to the Maison Gambrinus and take shelter there. -Rochefort had entered by the Porte St. Antoine, not on his legs, but -by means of a market gardener’s cart which they had overtaken. He -had given the gardener a few francs for the lift, and, pretending -intoxication, had entered Paris lying on some sacks of potatoes, -presumably asleep and certainly snoring.</p> - -<p>Having been shown to his bedroom, Rochefort undressed and went to bed, -where he slept as soundly as a child till Germain, Chartres’ valet, -awoke him at nine o’clock.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE HONOUR OF LAVENNE</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">THAT same morning, it will be remembered, Sartines received the visit -of the Vicomte Jean, and also Captain Pierre Cousin, the governor of -Vincennes, who came in person with the news of Rochefort’s escape.</p> - -<p>Having dismissed Cousin, Sartines, perplexed, distracted, furious with -himself, Rochefort, Choiseul, and the world in general, put aside the -letters on which he had been engaged and rising from his chair began to -walk up and down the room.</p> - -<p>Everything now depended on what Rochefort would do. With Rochefort and -Ferminard safe in Vincennes, Sartines felt safe. He knew instinctively -that Choiseul was deeply suspicious about the affair of the -Presentation. He knew for a fact that Choiseul had, through an agent, -questioned the Comtesse de Béarn before she left Paris, and that the -Comtesse, like the firm old woman she was, had refused to say a single -word on the matter. She had, in fact, refused for two reasons. First: -she had the two hundred thousand francs which the Dubarrys had paid her -tight clutched in her hand. Secondly: she was too proud to acknowledge -to the world how she had been tricked. Such a scandal would become -historical, but not if she could help it with a de Béarn in the chief -part.</p> - -<p>There was no one to talk, then, but Rochefort and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span> Ferminard, the chief -actor—and they who had been in safe keeping were now loose.</p> - -<p>In the midst of his meditations, a knock came to the door and the usher -announced that Lavenne had arrived and wished to speak to the Minister. -Sartines ordered him to be sent up at once. No visitor would be more -welcome. The absence of Lavenne had been disturbing him for the last -few days, for this man so fruitful in advice and expedient had become -as the right hand of the Minister. Of all the clever people about him, -Lavenne was the man whom he felt to be absolutely essential.</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em>” cried de Sartines, when Lavenne entered. “What has -happened to you?”</p> - -<p>He drew back a step.</p> - -<p>The man before him looked ten years older than when he had seen him -last, his face was white and pinched, his eyes were bloodshot, and the -pupils seemed unnaturally dilated.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, resting his hand on a chair-back as if -for support, “I have had a bad time, but I will soon get over it. -Meanwhile, I have an important report to make.”</p> - -<p>“Sit down,” said de Sartines.</p> - -<p>He rang the bell and ordered some wine to be sent up immediately. “And -now,” said he, when the other had set down his glass, “tell me first -where have you come from?”</p> - -<p>“I have come from the Catacombs of Paris, monsieur, where I have been -trapped and wandering since I don’t know when.”</p> - -<p>“From the Catacombs?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, or rather from the plain of Mont Souris to which the -gallery which I pursued led me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“But what were you doing in the Catacombs?”</p> - -<p>“Trying to escape, monsieur, and I can only say this, that I hope never -to have a similar experience.”</p> - -<p>Then rapidly he began to tell of his visit to Camus’ house, of the -laboratory, of what he had seen, and of his escape.</p> - -<p>“I had to choose between three corridors, monsieur, and the one I chose -led me to a blank wall. I had to come back, which took me a day. I had -to go most of the time in darkness to husband the candles I had with me.</p> - -<p>“The new corridor I chose led me right at last, but the last was a -long time coming. Several times I fell asleep and must have slept -many hours. I would have died of exhaustion had I not found water. At -several places I found water trickling through crevices of the rock -and I had to cross one fairly big pool. I had to walk always, feeling -my way with one foot. My progress was slow. At last I came to the old -grating which guards the entrance to the Catacombs on the plain of -Mont Souris. There I might have died had not my cries attracted the -attention of a man, who, obtaining assistance, broke down the bars and -freed me. That was yesterday evening. He took me to his cottage, and -then after I had taken some food I fell into a sleep that lasted till -late this morning.”</p> - -<p>Lavenne’s story filled Sartines with such astonishment that he forgot -for a moment the main business in hand, that is to say, Rochefort. It -was Lavenne who recalled him to it.</p> - -<p>“And now that I have told you my story, monsieur,” said he, “let -us forget it, for there are matters of much more importance to be -considered. I have been out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span> the world practically for four days. Is -Count Camus still alive?”</p> - -<p>He had told Sartines about the poisoning of the silver dagger, but he -had not told him all.</p> - -<p>“Alive,” said the Minister, “oh, yes, he is very much alive, or was so -late last night. Why do you ask?”</p> - -<p>“Because, monsieur, before leaving the room I told you of, I drew that -dagger from its sheath and inserted it again, but I took particular -care to insert it the other way about.”</p> - -<p>“The other way about?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur. It fitted the sheath either way.”</p> - -<p>“So that if Camus uses it,” cried Sartines, starting from his chair, -“if the gentleman of the Italian school uses his fruit knife in the way -that the poisoning of the blade suggests, it is he himself who will -suffer?”</p> - -<p>“Precisely, monsieur; I had only a moment to think in. I said to -myself, this wicked blade has been prepared for the slaying of an -innocent woman, he has already tried to kill her with a prepared rose, -he failed, he killed Atalanta instead, the death of his Majesty’s -favourite dog drew me into the business, and now I am made by God his -judge. I said to myself—There is no use at all trying to bring this -gentleman to justice by ordinary means, he is too clever, his poisons -are too artfully prepared, he will surely give us the slip. Let his own -hand deal him justice, and I reversed the dagger in its sheath.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Mordieu!</em>” said de Sartines, “that was at least a quick road. But the -handle of the dagger, will he not notice that it has been reversed?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, for the pattern of the handle was the same on both -sides, whereas the patterns on the sides of the sheath were widely -different<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>Sartines sat down again; for a moment he said nothing; he seemed -plunged in thought.</p> - -<p>“That was four days ago,” said he at last, “yet nothing has happened. -Both Camus and his wife are alive and very much in evidence.”</p> - -<p>“Have they met much, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“As far as I can say, no, for Madame Camus has been at Versailles for -the last couple of days.”</p> - -<p>“When I asked had they met much, monsieur, I should have asked, have -they met at any public entertainment or banquet, for it is then that -the deed will be done, openly and before witnesses. For that is the -essence of the whole business. It would be quite easy for Count Camus -to poison his wife at home and in secret, but it is necessary for him -to say, ‘I only met her once in the last so many days, we were quite -good friends, so much so, that we shared an apple together. Do you -suggest that I poisoned the apple? Well, considering that I ate half -of it and that I did not touch it beyond taking it from the dish and -cutting it in two such a suggestion is absurd.—And here is the knife -itself. I always use it for cutting fruit, see, the blade is silvered -on purpose, take it, test it for poison——’ So, monsieur, you see my -drift. The deed will be done at some public entertainment, and I ask -you, have they met at such an entertainment where the thing would be -feasible?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Sartines, speaking slowly and raising his eyes from the -floor where they had been resting. “But they will to-night.”</p> - -<p>“To-night?”</p> - -<p>“I believe so. M. de Choiseul is holding a reception at his house in -the Rue Faubourg St. Honoré. Camus, who is in love with Mademoiselle -Fontrailles, will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span> surely be there, and the girl will surely be there, -since the Dubarrys are now friends with Choiseul—for the moment—and -since Madame Camus is a friend of Madame de Choiseul, she will be -there.”</p> - -<p>“Then, monsieur,” said Lavenne, “I will not give a <em>denier</em> for M. -Camus’ life after midnight to-night.”</p> - -<p>“He will save the hangman some trouble,” said Sartines, taking a pinch -of snuff. “And it will be interesting to watch—yes—very interesting -to watch.” Then suddenly his face changed in expression. “<em>Dame!</em> I -forgot, all this put it out of my head. Rochefort has left Vincennes.”</p> - -<p>“M. de Rochefort left Vincennes!” cried Lavenne. “Since when, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“He escaped last night.”</p> - -<p>“But—but,” said Lavenne. “He had agreed to stay. He quite understood -his danger. This is strange news, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“He must have got tired of prison,” said Sartines. “That devil of a -man never could be easy anywhere, and not only that, he has let out -Ferminard.”</p> - -<p>“But how did they escape, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“How, by means of a rope which M. de Rochefort must have woven out of -nothing in three days, by means of a file which he must have invented -out of nothing for the purpose of cutting his window-bar, by half -strangling the gaoler and leaving him tied up on the floor—I do not -know, the thing was a miracle, but it was done.”</p> - -<p>“And you have heard nothing of him this morning?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing.”</p> - -<p>“Now,” said Lavenne, talking as if to himself, “I wonder what his -motive was in doing that? I explained to him and he understood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span>——”</p> - -<p>“He had no motive, he is a man who acts on impulse.”</p> - -<p>“Has he been visited in prison, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“No. I was sending Captain Beauregard to see him this morning, but it -was too late.”</p> - -<p>“Has he been treated well?”</p> - -<p>“Excellently. Captain Pierre Cousin, who came to me with the news this -morning, vouched for his good treatment.”</p> - -<p>“Did he say anything to Captain Cousin that might give a clue to his -motive?”</p> - -<p>“No, Captain Cousin never saw him.”</p> - -<p>“Never saw him?”</p> - -<p>“Well, it seems that he has been very busy with the half-yearly reports -and accounts of Vincennes, and the governor in any case does not visit -new prisoners as a matter of routine.”</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said Lavenne. “One can fancy M. de Rochefort imagining himself -neglected and getting restive, but I cannot imagine where he could have -got the means of escape.”</p> - -<p>“Nor can anyone else,” replied de Sartines.</p> - -<p>He looked up. The usher had knocked at the door and was entering the -room, a letter in his hand.</p> - -<p>“Who brought it?” asked Sartines, taking the letter.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, monsieur, a man left it and went away saying that there -was no answer.”</p> - -<p>He withdrew and the Minister opened the letter.</p> - -<p>He cast his eyes over the contents and then handed it to Lavenne.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Sartines</span>,” ran this short and explicit -communication, “I hope to have the pleasure of meeting you to-night -at the Duc de Choiseul’s reception. I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span> left Vincennes, -it was too dull. Meanwhile, do not be troubled in the least. I hope -to make everything right with Choiseul.</p> - -<p class="right">“Yours, <br /> -“<span class="smcap">De Rochefort</span>.”</p></div> - -<p>“Well, monsieur,” said Lavenne, returning the letter, which he had read -with astonishment, but without the slightest alteration of expression, -“we have now, at least, a clue to M. de Rochefort’s plans.”</p> - -<p>Sartines was white with anger.</p> - -<p>“A clue to M. de Rochefort’s plans. Is the Hôtel de Sartines to sit -down, then, and wait for M. de Rochefort to develop his plans?” He had -taken his seat, but he rose again and began to walk up and down a few -steps, his hands behind his back, his fingers twitching at his ruffles. -“M. de Rochefort finds the Château de Vincennes too dull, he leaves it -just as I would leave this room, he comes to Paris to amuse himself -and he sends me a note that he hopes to meet me at M. de Choiseul’s. -Delightful. But since it is my wish that he should not have left the -Château de Vincennes, that he should not be in Paris, that instead of -visiting the Duc de Choiseul, he should be ten thousand leagues away -from the Duc de Choiseul—it seems to me, considering all these things, -that I have been ill-served by my servants, by my agents, and by the -police who have the safe keeping of the order of his Majesty’s city of -Paris.”</p> - -<p>Lavenne looked on and listened. When Sartines was taken with anger in -this particular way, he literally stood on his dignity, and seemed to -be addressing the Parliament.</p> - -<p>“What, then, has happened to us?” went on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span> Minister. “We have lost -touch with our genius, it seems. Are we the Hôtel de Sartines or the -Hospital of the Quinze-Vingts?” Then, blazing out, “By my name and the -God above me, I will dismiss every man who has touched this business, -from the gaoler at Vincennes to the man who received that letter and -allowed the bearer to take his departure.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “it is less the fault of your servants than -of events. M. de Rochefort is free, but you need have no fear of the -consequences.”</p> - -<p>“Do you not understand,” said Sartines, in an icy voice, speaking -slowly, as though to let each word sink home to the mind of the -listener, “that if M. le Duc de Choiseul takes this Rochefort in his -net he will not be satisfied with imprisoning him. ‘For the good of the -State,’ that will be his excuse—he will question him by means of the -Rack and the Question by Water. Or rather, he will only have to mention -their names and Rochefort will tell all. Why should he shelter the -Dubarrys whom he hates? And once he tells, we are all lost. His Majesty -would never forgive the affair of the Presentation—never—and now we -have this precious Rochefort walking right into M. de Choiseul’s arms.”</p> - -<p>“There is nothing to fear, monsieur, I have in my pocket something that -will act on M. de Choiseul as a powerful bit acts on a restive horse. -It is no less than a letter which M. de Choiseul wrote on the night of -the Presentation.”</p> - -<p>He took Choiseul’s letter from his pocket and handed it to Sartines.</p> - -<p>“Where did you get this from?” asked Sartines when he had finished -reading it.</p> - -<p>Lavenne told.</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said the other. “Well, this simplifies everything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span> indeed. This -is the bowstring. <em>Mon Dieu!</em> was the man mad to write this? At once I -shall take this to his Majesty and lay it before him with my own hands.”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur,” said Lavenne.</p> - -<p>“Ah! What did you say?”</p> - -<p>“I said no, monsieur. The letter is not mine, or at least only mine to -hold as a means for the protection of M. de Rochefort. I promised the -girl I told you of to keep it for that purpose.”</p> - -<p>“Why, <em>Mon Dieu!</em>” cried Sartines, “I believe you are dictating to me -what course of action I should take!”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, or only as regards that letter and—a thing which is -very precious to me—my honour.”</p> - -<p>“Your honour. My faith! An agent of mine coming to me and talking of -his honour where a business of State is concerned.” Then, flying out, -“What has that to do with me?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, monsieur,” said Lavenne coldly, and in a voice perfectly unshaken, -“have you lived all these years in the world, and have you faced -Paris and the Court so long in your capacity as Minister of Police -that you set such a light price on honour. You value the keen sword -of Verpellieux, the acuteness of Fremin, the cleverness of Jumeau, -but what would all these men be worth to you if they could be bought? -I have never spoken to you of the many times I could have accepted -bribes in small matters, but the fact remains that without hurting you -I could have accumulated fair sums of money. I did not, simply because -something in me refused absolutely to play a double part. You know -yourself how often I could have enriched myself by selling important -secrets to your enemies. Where would you have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span> then? And the -thing that saved you was not Lavenne, but the something that prevented -Lavenne from betraying you. I call that something Honour. If it has -another name it does not matter. The thing is the same. Well, I have -pledged that something with regard to this letter, and if I do not -redeem the pledge I will be no longer Lavenne, but a secret service -agent of very little use to you, monsieur. That is all I wish to say.”</p> - -<p>De Sartines took a few turns up and down. Then he folded up the letter -and handed it back to Lavenne. From de Sartines’ point of view the word -Honour belonged entirely to his own class. It was the name of a thing -used among gentlemen, a thing appertaining to the higher orders. He had -never considered it in relation to the <em>Rafataille</em>, had he done so he -would have considered the relationship absurd.</p> - -<p>According to his view of it, Honour, even amongst the nobility, was -a very lean figure. Splendidly dressed, but very lean and capable of -being doubled up and packed away without any injury to it.</p> - -<p>A man must resent an insult sword in hand.</p> - -<p>A man must not cheat at cards—or be caught cheating at cards.</p> - -<p>A man may lie as much as he pleases, but he must kill another man who -calls him a liar.</p> - -<p>These were the chief articles in his code.</p> - -<p>Sartines himself was almost destitute of the principles of Honour as we -know it, just as he was almost wanting in the principles of Mercy as -we know it. Witness that relative of his whom he had kept imprisoned -in the Bastille for private ends and who was only released by the -Revolutionaries of July.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span></p> - -<p>Still, he had his code, and he talked of Honour and he considered it as -an attribute of his station in life.</p> - -<p>Lavenne just now had shown him a new side of the question, shown him in -a flash that what he had always called the Fidelity of his subordinates -was in reality a principle. He had always taken it as a personal -tribute. He saw now that in the case of Lavenne, at least, it had to -do with Lavenne himself, and secondarily only with de Sartines. And it -was a principle that must not be tampered with, for on its integrity -depended M. de Sartines’ safety and welfare.</p> - -<p>He knew, besides, that the letter was in safe hands and that the wise -Lavenne, in using it for the protection of Rochefort, would use it also -for the protection of de Sartines. And away at the back of his mind -there was the ghost of an idea that this terrible letter was safest for -all parties in the hands of Lavenne.</p> - -<p>Therefore he returned it.</p> - -<p>“What you say is just, here is the letter. I will trust you to use it -not only for the protection of M. de Rochefort, but in my interests if -necessary. That is to say, of course, the interest of the State.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, monsieur,” replied the other, rising from his chair. “And -now I must find M. de Rochefort if possible—though I have very little -hope of doing so before to-night.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE GATHERING STORM</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">LAVENNE, when he left the Hôtel de Sartines, made straight for the Rue -St. Dominic. He wanted to find Rochefort and he fancied that Javotte -might know of the Count’s whereabouts.</p> - -<p>He stopped at the door of the house where Camille Fontrailles’ -apartments were, rang and was admitted by the <em>concierge</em>.</p> - -<p>Scarcely had he made the inquiry as to whether Mademoiselle Javotte -were at home when Javotte herself appeared descending the stairs and -ready dressed for the street.</p> - -<p>“Why, monsieur,” said Javotte, “it is strange that you have called at -this moment, for in a very short time you would not have found me. I am -leaving.”</p> - -<p>“Leaving?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, and at this moment I am going to call a <em>fiacre</em> to -remove my things to a room I have taken in the Rue Jussac close to -here.”</p> - -<p>He accompanied her into the street.</p> - -<p>“And why are you leaving?” asked Lavenne. “Have you quarrelled with -your mistress?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, she quarrelled with me.”</p> - -<p>“Well, well,” said Lavenne, “these things will happen. I called to ask, -did you know of the whereabouts of M. de Rochefort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur, I do not, and strangely enough, it was concerning M. de -Rochefort that my quarrel arose with Mademoiselle Fontrailles.”</p> - -<p>“Aha! that is strange. Tell me about it.”</p> - -<p>“It was this way, monsieur. That night when M. de Rochefort had the -dispute with M. de Choiseul, he took shelter here. He came to see -Mademoiselle Fontrailles, she was not here, he asked for shelter and -I gave it to him. He slept in my room, whilst I took the room of my -mistress. Well, it appeared that the <em>concierge</em> talked, and yesterday -Mademoiselle Fontrailles asked me what I meant by harbouring a man here -for the night. I was furious; before I could reply two gentlemen were -announced, M. Dubarry and Count Camus.</p> - -<p>“Count Camus was the man who insulted me that night when M. de -Rochefort rescued me, and when the gentlemen were gone I said to -Mademoiselle, ‘I would sooner harbour a gentleman here for the night -than allow a ruffian to kiss my hand.’</p> - -<p>“She asked me what I meant. I told her, and I told her that M. de -Rochefort had smacked Comte Camus’ face.</p> - -<p>“Her face fired up so that I knew the truth at once. She is in love -with him, monsieur, and I was so furious at the false charge she had -made about me that I lost all discretion. I said, ‘It is easy to see -your feelings for that man; as for me, though I am only a poor girl, I -would choose for a lover, if not a gentleman, at least not a cur-dog -who snaps at women’s dresses and who runs away when kicked by a man.’”</p> - -<p>“And what did she say to that?”</p> - -<p>“She boxed my ears, monsieur. She is infatuated. Ah, monsieur, what -is it that she can see in a man so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span> horrible to look at, so evil, and -so cruel; for he is cruel, and I swear to you the sight of him makes -me shudder, and would make me shudder even if I had not personally -experienced his baseness.”</p> - -<p>“I do not know,” replied Lavenne; “nor can I possibly say why this man -should affect two persons so differently. He is, as you say, a terrible -man, and your innocence, or what is kindly in your nature, is revolted -by him; as for your late mistress, why, we must suppose there is -something in her nature that is attracted by him. But she is treading -on dangerous ground, for should Madame Camus die and should she marry -him, she would find herself under the thumb of a very strange master. -Now, listen to me, Mademoiselle Javotte. I have still in my pocket -that letter which you gave me, and I hope to make it useful to M. de -Rochefort. What is the number of the house in the Rue Jussac which will -be your new abode?”</p> - -<p>“No. 3, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it is important for me to know your address as I may want you. I -may even want you to-night, so be at home.”</p> - -<p>“I will, monsieur—and M. de Rochefort?”</p> - -<p>Lavenne smiled.</p> - -<p>“Set your mind at rest. He is in danger, very great danger, but I hope -to save him.”</p> - -<p>“In danger?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but I hope to save him. He is in Paris, I do not know his -address, but I shall see him to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Ah—in danger—” said Javotte. “I shall not rest till I hear that he -is safe.”</p> - -<p>“You care for him so much as that?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, monsieur, I care for him much more.”</p> - -<p>Lavenne left her. “Now there is a faithful heart,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span>” said he. “Ah, if -M. de Rochefort had only the genius to see that friend of all friends, -the woman who loves him!—And why not. Madame la Comtesse Dubarry was -a shop-girl. She had only a pretty face. And here we have the pretty -face, but so much more also.”</p> - -<p>He dismissed Javotte from his mind, concentrating his attention on the -events of the forthcoming evening, on the Duc de Choiseul’s reception, -which he felt to be the point towards which all these diverse fortunes -were tending. Lavenne half divined the truth that the life of society -is really the agglutination of a thousand stories, each story -containing so many characters working out a definite plot towards a -definite, and sometimes to an indefinite, <em>dénouement</em>. He felt that -in this especial business in which he was engaged the story, beginning -with the Presentation of the Comtesse Dubarry, was about to find its -<em>dénouement</em> at the reception of the Duc de Choiseul, and he could not -help contemplating all the complex interests involved, their reaction -one on the other and the manner in which they were being drawn together -towards one definite point. Sartines’ fortune was at stake, Rochefort’s -liberty, Camus’ life, Camille Fontrailles’ future, Javotte’s love and -Choiseul’s position as a Minister.</p> - -<p>The thing seemed to have been arranged by some dramatist—or shall we -say some chemist, who had slowly brought together, one by one, all -these diverse elements that wanted now only the last touch, the last -drop of acid or spark of fire to produce the culminating explosion.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">THE DUC DE CHOISEUL’S RECEPTION</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">CHOISEUL’S position in the world was a doubly difficult one. He was -continually fighting for his life, and he had to conduct the battle in -a silk coat that must never be creased and ruffles that must ever be -immaculate. He had to parry dagger thrusts with a smile, kiss hands -whose owners he hated, laugh when most severely smitten and turn -defeats into epigrams.</p> - -<p>The Comte de Stainville, now Duc de Choiseul, was well qualified, -however, by nature and by training for the difficult position that he -held.</p> - -<p>The genius that had prompted him, when Comte de Stainville, to make an -ally of his enemy the Pompadour, did not desert him when, under the -title of Duc de Choiseul, he was created Prime Minister in 1758.</p> - -<p>Choiseul was the man who almost averted the French Revolution. He was -the first of the real friends of Liberty not dressed as a Philosopher, -and the greatest Minister after Colbert. He had his littlenesses, -his weaknesses; he made great mistakes, allowed impulse to sway him -occasionally, and could be extremely pitiless on occasion. He did not -disdain to use the meanest weapons, yet he was great and far more human -than the majority of the men of his time, than Terray, or de Maupeou, -or de Sartines, or d’Aiguillon,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span> or d’Argeson, more human even than -the men who were beginning to babble about Humanity. He did not write -“The Social Contract,” but he destroyed the tyranny of the Jesuits in -France. He did not profess to love his own family, but at least he did -not desert his own children after the fashion of M. Jean Jacques.</p> - -<p>To-night, as he stood to receive his guests, he looked precisely the -same as on the last occasion, less than a week ago, when, standing in -his own house, he had received his guests with the certainty in his -mind that the Presentation would not take place. But he showed nothing -of his defeat.</p> - -<p>De Sartines was among the first to arrive. As Minister of Police it -was his duty to guard the safety of the Prime Minister of France on -all occasions, and more especially at State functions, balls, and -receptions, even when these receptions, functions or balls took place -at the Minister’s own house.</p> - -<p>There were always dangerous people ready for mischief—Damiens was an -example of that—lunatics and fanatics, and to-night, as usual, several -agents of the Hôtel de Sartines were among the servants of Choiseul and -indistinguishable from them. But to-night, for certain reasons, the -occasion was so especial that Lavenne was present, watchful, seeing all -things, but unseen, or rather unnoticed, by everyone.</p> - -<p>Sartines passed with the first of the crowd into the great <em>salon</em> -where Madame de Choiseul was receiving. Here, when he had made his bow, -he found himself buttonholed by M. de Duras, the old gentleman who -knew everything about everyone and their affairs. The same, it will -be remembered, who had explained Camille Fontrailles to Camus on that -night of the ball.</p> - -<p>“Ah, M. le Comte,” cried this purveyor of news,</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span></p> - -<p>“I thought I was too early, but now that I see you, I feel my position -more regular. I came here chiefly to-night to make sure that Madame la -Princesse de Guemenée was not present. You have heard the news? No? -Well, there has been a great quarrel. It is entirely between ourselves, -but the Princesse de Guemenée and Madame de Choiseul have quarrelled, -so much so that the Princesse has not been invited.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed!” said de Sartines, “I have heard nothing of it.”</p> - -<p>“All the same, it is a fact—and the fact is rather scandalous. It was -this way——”</p> - -<p>“Madame la Princesse de Guemenée,” came the voice of the usher as the -Princesse, smiling, entered and made her bow to Madame de Choiseul.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Sartines, “you were going to say?”</p> - -<p>“Why, that is the lady herself. Yet the facts were given to me on -unimpeachable authority. They must have made the matter up between -them. <em>Ma foi!</em> women are adaptable creatures. One can never count on -them—as, for instance, the Dubarry. She is hand in glove with the -Choiseuls now, and that great fat Jean Dubarry swears by his friend -Choiseul; one might fancy them brothers to hear Jean talking, but I -would like to hear Choiseul’s view of the matter. Ah, there is Count -Camus, he seems quite recovered from the blow that M. de Rochefort gave -him—what an affair!—a fine, open-hearted man, Camus, and only for -that vile smallpox he would not be bad-looking, but beauty is only skin -deep and it is the man who counts after all. Have you heard the news -about Rochefort?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Sartines with a little start. “Have you heard anything -fresh?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, <em>ma foi!</em> yes. He is in Germany. Managed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span> to make his escape, -fool. I always said he would make a mess of his affairs, but I never -thought he would have gone the length he did.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, in Germany, is he?” said Sartines, wishing sincerely that the news -was true.</p> - -<p>“Yes. He made his escape from France in the disguise of a pedlar. I -had the news only yesterday. Ah, there is Mademoiselle Fontrailles, -with Mademoiselle Chon Dubarry and the Vicomte Jean. What did I tell -you? Hand in glove, hand in glove. She looks well, the Fontrailles. -Cold as an icicle, but beautiful. And they say she has a fortune of a -million francs. Why, there is Madame Camus, she has come with Madame -de Courcelles; and look at Camus, he seems to have no eyes but for his -wife.”</p> - -<p>Sartines gazed in the direction of a group consisting of Camus, his -wife, Camille Fontrailles and Jean Dubarry. They were all laughing and -talking, and now, apropos of some remark, Camus, with a little bow, -took his wife’s hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. The others -laughed at the joke, whatever it was.</p> - -<p>“Look,” said de Sartines, “what a charming husband. And yet it seemed -to me, for I have been watching them all since they came in, that -this charming husband slipped a little note behind his back to the -Fontrailles, and that she took it quite in the orthodox way—that is to -say, without being seen.”</p> - -<p>“Except by you.”</p> - -<p>“Except by me, but then, you see, I am the Minister of Police, and I -am supposed to see what other people do not see, and know what other -people do not know.” De Sartines, as he finished speaking, turned again -towards the group and contemplated them with a brooding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span> eye, his hands -behind his back, and his lips slightly thrust out.</p> - -<p>“But she can have no hopes, since Madame Camus is alive and, despite -her lameness, evidently in the best of health,” said M. de Duras.</p> - -<p>“My dear fellow,” said de Sartines, “that is not a girl to build on -hopes. If she cares for Camus, as I believe she does, he has only to -wink and she will follow him. She is of that type. The type of the -perverse prude. The creature who would refuse herself to an honest man, -and yet is quite ready to roll in the gutter if the gutter pleases her. -Here has this one refused a man whom she might have made something -of—that is to say, Rochefort, and who has welcomed the advances of a -speckled toad—that is to say, Camus. You say Camus is an open-hearted -man, at least I fancy you made some curious remark of that sort; you -are wrong, just as wrong as when you said Madame de Guemenée had -quarrelled with Madame de Choiseul; just as wrong as when you said de -Rochefort was in Germany. M. de Rochefort is in Paris—and there he is -in the flesh.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur le Vicomte de Chartres. Monsieur le Comte de Rochefort,” came -the usher’s voice.</p> - -<p>An earthquake would not have shaken de Choiseul more than that -announcement, and just as he would have remained unmoved after the -first shock of the earthquake, so did he now after the first shock of -the announcement.</p> - -<p>Rochefort, accompanying Chartres, advanced a hair’s-breadth behind the -Vicomte, and with that half-smiling, easy grace which was one of his -attractions. He was beautifully dressed in a suit of Chartres’ which a -tailor had been half a day altering to suit his fastidious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span> tastes. He -bowed to his hostess and host.</p> - -<p>Had de Choiseul changed colour or expression, Rochefort would have -been far better pleased; but the Minister received him with absolute -courtesy, as though they had parted in friendship but a few hours -ago, and as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a -man against whom he had issued a warrant, and for whom he was hunting -throughout France, to appear as his guest. The appalling <em>sang-froid</em> -of de Choiseul, who would have suffered anything rather than that a -scene should be created in his house, disconcerted Rochefort. The idea -clutched his mind that he had taken another false step. He had come to -meet a man, he found himself face to face with etiquette. He had hoped, -by an explosion, to create the warmth that would lead to a mutual -understanding; he found no materials for an explosion—nothing but ice.</p> - -<p>Against the faultless reception of de Choiseul, his intrusion now -seemed bad taste.</p> - -<p>All this passed through his mind, leaving no trace, however, on his -manner or expression as he turned from his host and hostess and calmly -surveyed the people in his immediate neighbourhood.</p> - -<p>Not a person present that was not filled with astonishment, yet not -a person betrayed his or her feelings. Rochefort had, then, made his -position good again, and Choiseul had invited him to his reception. How -had Rochefort worked this miracle? Impossible to say, yet there was the -fact, and if Choiseul was satisfied it was nobody’s business to grumble.</p> - -<p>Camus was the most astonished of all, yet he said nothing, only turning -to the Vicomte Jean Dubarry with eyebrows lifted as though to say, -“Well, what do you think of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span>?”</p> - -<p>Sartines alone knew the truth of the whole business and Sartines wished -himself well away, for he knew that Rochefort would come and speak to -him, Sartines—the man who ought to take M. de Rochefort by the arm and -lead him out to arrest, an action that would have pleased his vexed -soul, and which he would promptly have taken were it not impossible.</p> - -<p>To arrest Rochefort now would mean simply to hand him over to the -agents of Choiseul, to be questioned and to reveal to them everything -he knew. He would sacrifice the Dubarrys most certainly rather than -suffer for them, that was patently apparent now, for Rochefort, passing -the Dubarry group, turned on Mademoiselle Fontrailles, on Chon, on Jean -Dubarry and on Camus, a glance in which hatred was half veiled and -contempt clearly manifested.</p> - -<p>And the group did not fail to respond.</p> - -<p>On the way towards Sartines, Rochefort was stopped by M. de Duras.</p> - -<p>“Why, M. de Rochefort,” said the old gentleman, “this is an unexpected -pleasure.”</p> - -<p>“Which, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“Why, to meet you here to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Well, M. de Duras, unexpected pleasures are always the sweetest; but -why should the pleasure be unexpected?”</p> - -<p>“Why——?” stammered the old fellow—“Well, monsieur, it was rumoured -that you were in Germany.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! it was rumoured that I was in Germany—well, Rumour has told a lie -for the first time. Ah, Sartines, you see I have kept my promise; how -are you this evening—charmingly, I hope?”</p> - -<p>Rochefort had recovered his spirits. The sight of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span> Camus, the -Fontrailles, Chon, and Jean Dubarry all in one group laughing and -talking together, had clinched the business with him and given the -last blow to his half-dead passion for Camille Fontrailles. But a dead -passion makes fine combustible material when it is bound together -with wounded pride. This dead passion of Rochefort’s burst into flame -like a lit tar-barrel, and his anger against the Dubarry group became -furiously alive and the next worse thing to hatred.</p> - -<p>“Hush, my dear fellow,” said de Sartines, drawing him aside. “I do not -know what has driven you to this mad act, but at least remember that -I am your friend. You have kept no promise to me. I could not help -receiving your letter; had I been in communication with you, I would -have been the first to warn you against what you have done.”</p> - -<p>“And you know perfectly well,” replied Rochefort, “that I have never -taken warnings—or at least only once, when I was foolish enough to -take a cell in that rat-haunted old barrack of Vincennes at your -advice, instead of facing Choiseul like a man.”</p> - -<p>“Facing Choiseul like a man! And what do you expect from that?”</p> - -<p>“I expect that he will listen to reason, hear my story, which I would -have told him had he not tried to arrest me as I was just starting to -Paris to keep an appointment, and release me.”</p> - -<p>“You do not know Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me, but I believe I do. He is a gentleman, he knows that I am a -gentleman and he will take my word.”</p> - -<p>“Choiseul will have you arrested the instant you leave this hôtel. He -would arrest you now only he does not wish to make a scene<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span>.”</p> - -<p>“I am going to explain to him.”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“Here.”</p> - -<p>“And how are you going to obtain an interview with him?”</p> - -<p>“You must do that for me.”</p> - -<p>“I?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you are the proper person. Go to him and say, ‘Rochefort wishes -to speak to you on a matter of great importance.’ You can say to him -also if you like, ‘He asked me to say that he came here to-night -not as your guest, but as a gentleman who has been lied against and -misunderstood and who wishes to lay his case before the first gentleman -in France, after his Majesty.’”</p> - -<p>“Words, words,” said Sartines. “He will crumple them up and fling them -in your face.”</p> - -<p>“He will not. Choiseul is a gentleman and will listen to me.”</p> - -<p>“Ay, he will listen to you—you are like a child with your talk of -‘gentleman—gentleman.’ However, you are not quite lost. You had a -letter of Choiseul’s.”</p> - -<p>“I?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you took it from the saddle-bag of a horse.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that!”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Well, I have that letter in my pocket.”</p> - -<p>“How did you get it?”</p> - -<p>“You gave it to a girl—like a fool—to send back to Choiseul, and the -girl, who seems to have cared for you a lot, opened it.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Javotte! Little meddler——”</p> - -<p>“Read it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes!”</p> - -<p>“And found that it was a—what shall I say?—a revelation of how -Choiseul had plotted against the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span> Dubarry and a libel on his Majesty. -It was written in a moment of anger, it was one of the false steps men -make who have not control of their temper. With this letter in your -hand you are safe from Choiseul. He, of course, knows that the thing -was taken from the saddle-bag of the horse, but I doubt if he suspects -you as having taken it, simply because in the ordinary course you would -have used it against him before this.”</p> - -<p>“How did you get this letter?”</p> - -<p>“The girl gave it to my agent, Lavenne, making him promise that it was -to be used only for your protection. Now we have some honour amongst -us at the Hôtel de Sartines, otherwise this—um—treasonable document -would have been laid by this before his Majesty for the good of the -State. Lavenne, to-night, knowing that you would be here, gave it to me -to give to you.”</p> - -<p>“Let me have it.”</p> - -<p>“Come into this corridor, then.”</p> - -<p>Sartines led the way between two curtains into a corridor giving -entrance to the <em>salon</em> where to-night refreshments were being served.</p> - -<p>He handed the letter to Rochefort, who hastily put it in his pocket.</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” said Rochefort. “This will make the matter easier for me. Or -at least it will serve as an introduction to our business. And now, -like a good fellow, obtain for me my interview with Choiseul.”</p> - -<p>They went back against a tide of people setting in the direction of the -room where the buffet was laid out and where little tables were set -about for the guests.</p> - -<p>Rochefort waited in a corridor whilst Sartines advanced towards -Choiseul and buttonholed him.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">ROCHEFORT AND CHOISEUL</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">ROCHEFORT watched the two men. One could make out absolutely nothing -from their expressions or movements. Then they turned slowly and walked -towards a door on the left of the <em>salon</em>.</p> - -<p>Choiseul, with his hand on the door-handle, nodded slightly to his -companion, passed through the door, shut it, and Sartines came hurrying -towards Rochefort.</p> - -<p>“Your interview has been granted. Remember that the letter in your -pocket stands between you and social and bodily destruction. <em>Mordieu!</em> -remember also your friends, Rochefort, for I will not hide it from you, -that, should you fall into Choiseul’s hands, things will go badly with -us.”</p> - -<p>“Do not worry me with directions, my dear fellow,” said Rochefort. “If -I am to do this thing, I must do it in my own way—come.”</p> - -<p>He led the way through the door and into a passage leading to a room -the door of which was ajar.</p> - -<p>Rochefort knocked at this door and entered the room, followed by -Sartines.</p> - -<p>It was a small but beautifully furnished writing-room. Choiseul was -standing before the fireplace, with his hands behind his back. He -seemed in meditation, and raising his head, bowed slightly to the Count -whilst<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span> Sartines closed the door and took a position on the right.</p> - -<p>Sartines, as he came to a halt, produced his snuff-box, tapped it, -opened it, and took a pinch.</p> - -<p>“Well, Monsieur de Rochefort,” said Choiseul, “you wish to speak to me?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur,” replied Rochefort, “I wish to make an explanation. -Some days ago, at his Majesty’s palace of Versailles, you in your -discretion, and acting under your powers, thought fit to issue a -warrant for the arrest of my person, and you entrusted this business to -two of your gentlemen, M. le Comte Camus and M. d’Estouteville.”</p> - -<p>Choiseul nodded slightly.</p> - -<p>“I resisted that arrest, monsieur, not because I was conscious of -having done any wrong and not because I dreaded any consequences that -might arise from false information given against me. I resisted arrest -simply because I was going to Paris on important business and did not -wish to be stopped.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” said Choiseul, “you were going to Paris on important business and -did not wish to be stopped. Indeed! And you have come here to tell me -that you resisted an order of the State because you were going to Paris -and did not wish to be stopped!”</p> - -<p>Choiseul’s voice would have frozen an ordinary man, and few men in -Rochefort’s position could have stood under the gaze of his cold grey -eyes unmoved.</p> - -<p>“I came to tell you absolutely the truth, monsieur. Yes, I resisted the -order of the State for private reasons, but I will add this, my reasons -were not entirely personal. I had to meet a lady——”</p> - -<p>“Go on,” said Choiseul, “I do not wish to pry into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span> your personal -affairs. Have you anything more to say?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur. To make my escape, I had to take a horse that was -standing in waiting. On it I reached Paris. In the saddle-bag I found a -letter addressed by you to a lady—I have forgotten the name—I do not -wish to pry into your private affairs.”</p> - -<p>Choiseul’s face had changed slightly in colour, but otherwise he -betrayed none of the emotion that filled him, except, Sartines noticed, -by a slight twitching of his left shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said he, “you found a letter of mine!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, I entrusted it to a person, who is my very faithful -servant, to take to the address upon it. Now, this person—knowing that -I was in trouble with M. de Choiseul—thought fit to open the letter, -an action most discreditable and only excusable inasmuch as it was -prompted by an humble mind, blinded by devotion to my interests.</p> - -<p>“The letter was put into my hands with a strong suggestion that the -contents might be useful to me.”</p> - -<p>“Now, M. le Duc, you will at once understand that, so far from making -use of this letter, I did not even read it. It is in my pocket now, -perfectly safe, and I have the honour of returning it to you.”</p> - -<p>To Sartines’ horror, Rochefort put his hand in his pocket, took out the -letter and gave it to Choiseul, who opened it, glanced at the contents -and placed it on the mantelpiece as though it were of no importance.</p> - -<p>“I have only to add, monsieur,” continued Rochefort, “that in Paris, -instead of taking the wise course of returning to Versailles to seek -re-arrest, I said to myself, ‘M. Choiseul is against me. I had better -make my escape or at least keep concealed until the storm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span> blows over.’ -That was very foolish, but I was enraged about other matters and I did -not think clearly, and now, monsieur, what is the charge against me?”</p> - -<p>“You are charged, Monsieur de Rochefort, with the killing of a man in -the streets of Paris on the very night upon which you were here as my -guest last.”</p> - -<p>“The charge is perfectly correct, monsieur, but your informant did not -tell all.”</p> - -<p>“Walking home with Comte Camus I rescued a woman from two men who were -maltreating her. I pursued one of the men, he attacked me and I killed -him. I returned only to find the unfortunate woman whom I had rescued -being assaulted by Count Camus. I struck him in the face and rolled him -in the gutter, and he has never yet sought redress for that assault -which I made upon him.”</p> - -<p>“What is this you say?” asked Choiseul.</p> - -<p>“The truth, monsieur,” replied Rochefort proudly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Now Lavenne that evening, on taking over the police arrangements for -Choiseul’s reception, had given special instructions to Vallone, one -of his subordinates who had nothing to do with the policing of the -reception, who, as a matter of fact, was a spy of the Hôtel de Sartines -engaged in the service of Choiseul. It was Vallone, in fact, who had -given Sartines the information that Choiseul had sent the note which -the Comtesse de Béarn had received in the basket of flowers.</p> - -<p>Lavenne had given the man instructions to watch Count Camus as a -cat watches a mouse, and Lavenne, just at this moment, was standing -unobserved watching the throng passing in and out of the <em>salon</em> where -refreshments were served. He saw Vallone leave the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span> <em>salon</em>. Vallone -glanced about, saw Lavenne and came rapidly towards him.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Lavenne, “what is it?”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur, you told me to watch Count Camus, and more especially should -he use a dagger to cut fruit with.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes?”</p> - -<p>“He is seated at a small table with Madame Camus, Mademoiselle -Fontrailles, and M. le Vicomte Jean Dubarry.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes?”</p> - -<p>“He has just taken a peach from a dish of fruit handed to him by a -servant, and producing a knife like that which you spoke of, he cut the -peach in two.”</p> - -<p>“Quick—go on!”</p> - -<p>“He handed one half of the peach to Madame Camus.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—and the other half he ate himself?”</p> - -<p>“No, monsieur. The other half he handed on his plate to Mademoiselle -Fontrailles.”</p> - -<p>“Did she eat it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur, she ate it, looking all the time at Monsieur Camus with -a smile, and between you and me, monsieur, she seems to favour the -Count more than a little.”</p> - -<p>Lavenne did not hear this last. Horrified at what he had heard, he -felt as though some unseen hand had suddenly intervened in this game -of life and death, dealing the cards in a reverse direction, and the -ace of spades, not to Camus, but to Camille Fontrailles. He turned from -Vallone and walked rapidly to the door of the supper-room.</p> - -<p>He entered.</p> - -<p>Dressed in a sober suit of black he had the appearance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span> of a -confidential servant, and no one noticed him, or, if they did, put him -down as one of the stewards of the house superintending the service. -Numerous small tables were spread about, the place was crowded and a -band of violins in the gallery was playing, mixing its music with the -sound of voices, laughter, and the tinkle of glass and silver.</p> - -<p>Lavenne passed the table where the Dubarry group was seated. Camille -Fontrailles was chatting and laughing with the others; she had never -appeared more beautiful, she was seated opposite to Camus. Lavenne -swept the room with his eyes, as though he were searching for some plan -of action; then he hurriedly walked to the door, crossed the reception -<em>salon</em> and passed through the door through which he had seen Sartines -and Rochefort following Choiseul. He reached the door where the -conference was going forward and knocked.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Choiseul paused for a moment without replying.</p> - -<p>“Let us see,” said he, “you accuse Monsieur Camus of having assaulted -this girl, and you would add to that the suggestion that his accusation -against you was prompted by anger at the blow you dealt him.”</p> - -<p>“I did not know that the accusation against me came from Comte Camus,” -replied Rochefort, “but I must say I suspected that he had a hand in -the business. Now that you tell me, I would say that most certainly the -accusation was prompted by spite.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Choiseul, “I have listened to what you have said, and what -you have said has impressed me, Monsieur de Rochefort. But I stand here -to do justice, and for that purpose I must hear what Comte Camus has to -say, for he distinctly told me that he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">307</a></span> parted company with you, -that he had started on his way home, that he altered his direction in -order to call on a friend, and that by accident he had come upon the -evidence which he disclosed to me. I shall call Comte Camus and you can -confront him.”</p> - -<p>“Do so, monsieur,” replied Rochefort, “and now one word first. I fell -into politics by a false step, just as a man might fall into a well. -I confess that I acted against you, monsieur, not from animosity, but -simply because the party with which I momentarily allied myself was -in opposition to you. I would ask you to forget all that and forgive -an antagonist who is now well disposed towards you, should you decide -that Monsieur Camus’ story is a lie, and that I have spoken the truth. -Monsieur, I am not fit for politics; I want to enjoy my life since I -have only one to enjoy. I don’t want to go into the Bastille on account -of your anger, and I don’t want to be hanged for having killed a -ruffian who attempted my life. Therefore, Monsieur le Duc, should you -think that I have acted as a straight man and a gentleman through all -this, I would ask a clear forgiveness. Firstly, for ridding Paris of a -rogue with my sword; secondly, for having been such a fool as to ally -my life and my fortune to the fortune of those cursed Dubarrys.”</p> - -<p>The outward effect of this extraordinary speech on Choiseul was to make -him turn half way in order to hide a smile. Then, stretching out his -hand he rang a bell; with almost the same movement he casually took the -letter lying on the mantelpiece and put it in his pocket.</p> - -<p>Sartines knew from the expression on Choiseul’s face that Rochefort -was saved, unless Camus, by some trickery,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> were to turn the tables. -Everything rested now with what Camus would do and say.</p> - -<p>He was taking a pinch of snuff when Lavenne’s knock came to the door.</p> - -<p>Lavenne entered. His face was absolutely white.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said he to Sartines, disregarding the other two, “send at -once for Monsieur Camus. Mademoiselle Fontrailles has been poisoned—he -may know some antidote, but it will have to be forced from him.”</p> - -<p>“Good God!” said Sartines, instantly guessing the truth. “He has given -her the poison instead of his wife.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—yes, monsieur—but send quick.”</p> - -<p>“I will fetch him myself,” cried Sartines, rushing from the room.</p> - -<p>Choiseul, amazed, found his speech.</p> - -<p>“What is this you say?” he asked. “Poisoned, in my house? Explain -yourself!”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “Comte Camus has poisoned a lady at the -supper-table—yes, in your house; he intended to poison his wife. I -have been watching him for some time. He poisoned Atalanta, the King’s -hound, with poison which he had prepared for his wife, and which the -dog ate by accident. Woe is me! I should have seized him to-day, but -the evidence was not complete. I had arranged things otherwise, but God -in His wisdom has brought my plans to nothing.”</p> - -<p>“<em>Bon Dieu!</em>” said Rochefort, all thoughts about himself swept away. -There was something shocking in Lavenne’s face and voice and words. -Choiseul, mystified, understanding only half of what had happened, yet -comprehending the depth of the tragedy of which his house had been -chosen for the stage, stood waiting, half dreading the re-appearance -of Sartines, too proud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span> to cross-question a subordinate and at heart -furious at this scandal which had thrust itself upon his hearth.</p> - -<p>He had not to wait long.</p> - -<p>Steps sounded outside, the door opened and Camus entered, closely -followed by Sartines. Camus, not comprehending the urgent summons, was, -still, pale about the lips, and his manner had lost its assurance.</p> - -<p>Sartines shut the door.</p> - -<p>“That is the man,” said Lavenne, stepping forward and suddenly taking -command of the situation.</p> - -<p>Lavenne, in a flash, had altered. He seemed to have increased in size; -something ferocious and bullying lying dormant in his nature broke -loose; advancing swiftly on Camus he seized him by the collar as he -would have seized the commonest criminal and absolutely shouting in his -face, held him tight clutched the while:</p> - -<p>“I arrest you, your game is lost. The antidote for the poison you have -just given an unfortunate woman! Confess, save her, and you may yet -save your neck. You refuse? You would struggle? Ah, there——”</p> - -<p>He flung himself on Camus as if he would tear the secret from him, but -he was not searching for the secret, but for the dagger, which he found -and plucked from him, flinging it to Sartines.</p> - -<p>Camus, who had not spoken a word, struggled furiously, white, gasping, -terrific, proclaiming his infamy by his silence, knowing that all was -over, and that this terrible man whom he had never seen before, this -man who had lain hidden in his path and who had seized him like Fate, -was his executioner.</p> - -<p>The struggle lasted only half a minute, then Camus was on the floor and -Lavenne, with the whipcord which he always carried, was fastening the -wrists of his prisoner.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span> There was no appeal, no defence, or questions -or cross-questions. Just a prisoner bound on the floor, and Lavenne, -now calm, rising to address his master.</p> - -<p>“Shall I remove him, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“But the antidote,” said Sartines.</p> - -<p>“There is no antidote, monsieur,” said Lavenne, “else he would have -confessed to save his life.” He gave a down glance at Camus. Camus, -white and groaning, lay like a man stricken by a mortal blow, and then -Choiseul, glaring at him, spoke.</p> - -<p>Choiseul, who had not moved nor spoken, suddenly found speech. Filled -with fury at the whole business, not caring who was poisoned as long -as the affair did not occur in his house, stricken in his dignity and -hating the idea of a scandal, he turned to Sartines.</p> - -<p>“Take that carrion away,” he burst out. “Away with him by that door -which opens on the kitchen premises. Go first, Sartines, and order -all the servants to remain away from the yard where you will have a -carriage brought. Then you can remove him to La Bastille. Monsieur de -Rochefort, kindly help in the business—and Monsieur de Rochefort, all -is cleared between us. Go in peace and avoid politics. Now do as I -direct. No scandal, no noise—not a word about all this business which -is deeply discreditable to our order. We poison in secret, it seems; -well, in secret we shall punish.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” said Sartines, delighted that the Rochefort business was -over and done with, “I shall do exactly as you direct. It is best. -Lavenne, open that door and give me your assistance with this.”</p> - -<p>Lavenne opened the door and they carried Camus out. Not one word had -he spoken from first to last. Rochefort followed. When he reached the -door, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span> turned and bowed to Choiseul, Choiseul returned the bow. -Rochefort went out and shut the door behind him and the incident was -closed.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then Choiseul, taking the letter from his pocket re-read it, lit a -taper and burned it in the grate. He stamped on the ashes and, leaving -the room, returned to the <em>salon</em> on which the passage opened.</p> - -<p>Some of the guests were taking their departure, amongst them the -Dubarry party.</p> - -<p>“We were looking for Monsieur Camus,” said Jean Dubarry, “but he seems -to have vanished.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Comte Camus,” replied Choiseul, “I saw him early this evening, but -I have not seen him since.”</p> - -<p>“Sartines came and fetched him off,” said Jean.</p> - -<p>“Then perhaps he has gone off with Sartines,” said Choiseul, “and now -you are carrying off Mademoiselle Fontrailles so early in the evening. -Ah, Mademoiselle Fontrailles, you are carrying away with you all the -charm you have brought to my poor <em>salons</em>, and leaving behind you the -envy of all the roses of Paris who have been eclipsed by the Flower of -Martinique.”</p> - -<p>He bowed profoundly to the laughing girl and to Chon Dubarry.</p> - -<p>Then he went to the card-room.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">312</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="chapter padt2" id="BOOK_IV_CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br /> -<br /> -<span class="small">ENVOI</span></h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">A FEW days later the Comte de Rochefort was breakfasting with his -friend, de Chartres, when, the conversation taking a turn, Rochefort, -in reply to some remark of his companion, laughed.</p> - -<p>“That reminds me,” said he, “I am going to leave Paris.”</p> - -<p>“You are going to leave Paris? And for how long?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, an indefinite time.”</p> - -<p>“And who gave you that bright idea?”</p> - -<p>“M. de Duras.”</p> - -<p>“M. de Duras advised you to leave Paris?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, he only gave me the idea that it would be a good thing not to -become like M. de Duras. I saw myself in a flash as I would be twenty -years hence, old M. de Rochefort with a painted face, living socially -on the tolerance of his friends and mentally on the latest rumour and -the cast-off wit of others. Besides, I was always fond of a country -life; besides—I have had my fling in Paris, I have spent I don’t -know how many thousand francs in four years, and if I go on I will be -impoverished, and I can stand many things, Chartres, but I could never -stand being your poor man.</p> - -<p>“I do not mind living on a crust of bread in the least, but I object -very strongly to living with the knowledge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> that I cannot have venison -if I want it. I have come from a queer stock, we have always gone the -pace, but we have all of us had a grain of commonsense somewhere in our -natures to check us in time.</p> - -<p>“People say I am mad simply because they only see me spending my money -in Paris; they do not know in the least that I have a reputation for -commonsense on my estates as solid as an oak-tree. My people in the -country know me and they respect me, because I know them and will not -let myself be cheated. People say I am mad—silly fools—have they -never considered the fact that I have always steered clear of politics?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, oh!” said Chartres; “good heavens, what are you saying?”</p> - -<p>“That was an accident, an uncharted rock that I struck. I have always -steered clear of politics, otherwise I might be like Camus, of whose -fate I have just told you—and mind, never, never breathe a word of -that even to your pillow—or poor Camille Fontrailles. Well, to return -to our subject. I am leaving Paris for another reason, which I will -tell to you who are my best friend. I am in love, and the girl whom I -am going to make my wife could not live in Paris.”</p> - -<p>“And why not?”</p> - -<p>“Because she is a girl of the people; because she has a heart of gold -and a soul as pure as the soul of a child, and a power of love simple -and indestructible as the love of a dog; because she is a woman who can -be faithful in friendliness as a man, because she is a child who will -be a child till she dies. All that would be extremely absurd in Paris. -But down there in the country, Madame la Comtesse de Rochefort will -grow and live in the clear air that nourishes the flowers; she will be -respected by people who know the value of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span> worth, and when Monsieur de -Rochefort is an old man, he will perhaps see in his grandchildren the -strength of a new race and not the vices of our rotten aristocracy.”</p> - -<p>“Rochefort,” said Chartres, “I do not know whether this is madness or -commonsense, I only know that you are talking in a way that surprises -me as much as though I were to hear my poodle Pistache talking -philosophy.”</p> - -<p>“Precisely, yet Pistache has more philosophy in his composition than -half the philosophers. You despise him because he is a poodle and -plays antics, just as you despise me because I am a man who has played -the fool. Yet Madame de Chartres does not look on Pistache as a bag -of tricks covered with fur, for she believes—so she told me—that -Pistache has a soul, and the woman whom I am going to marry does not -look on me as a fool, simply because she loves me.</p> - -<p>“Believe me, Chartres, the only people who really understand dogs and -men—are women.”</p> - -<p class="center">Footnote:</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">A</span></a> Hairdressers alone amongst tradesmen were permitted to -wear swords.</p></div> - -<p class="center padb2">THE END.</p> - -<div class="transnote padt2"><p>Transcriber’s Notes:</p> -<p>The original spelling, hyphenation, accentuation and punctuation has -been retained, with the exception of apparent typographical errors -which have been corrected.</p></div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Presentation, by Henry De Vere Stacpoole - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRESENTATION *** - -***** This file should be named 54808-h.htm or 54808-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/8/0/54808/ - -Produced by Roger Frank, Brian Wilcox and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/54808-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/54808-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 93c93c1..0000000 --- a/old/54808-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54808-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg b/old/54808-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 54441d6..0000000 --- a/old/54808-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/54808-h/images/illus-tpg.jpg b/old/54808-h/images/illus-tpg.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 92d7683..0000000 --- a/old/54808-h/images/illus-tpg.jpg +++ /dev/null |
