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+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.
+
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+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #54808 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54808)
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-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
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-
-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 ***
-
-
-
-
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-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive)
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-
-</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 Valli&egrave;re 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 B&eacute;arn. A lady of the old
-<em>r&eacute;gime</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. Honor&eacute; was alight with the torches of the
-running footmen and filled with a crowd watching the carriages turning
-into the courtyard of the H&ocirc;tel de Choiseul from the direction of the
-Rue St. Honor&eacute;, 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 Mar&eacute;chal 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 rou&eacute;, open-handed when his fist was not
-clenched, and always laughing, he was fittingly summed up in the words
-of his cousin, the Abb&eacute; 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 Mar&eacute;chal Duc de Richelieu!”</p>
-
-<p>“Madame la Princesse de Guemen&eacute;e!”</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 Fouch&eacute; 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 &eacute;minence 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 Gr&egrave;ve.”</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 Tr&ocirc;ne, 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. Honor&eacute; in the direction of the Rue St. Honor&eacute;.</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 B&eacute;arn?”</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. Honor&eacute;, and led from the Pont Tournant of
-the Tuileries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> to the H&ocirc;tel 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 B&eacute;n&eacute;dictines de la Ville l’&Eacute;v&ecirc;que.
-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 H&ocirc;tel 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 B&eacute;n&eacute;dictines 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 r&ocirc;le 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 S&eacute;gur, a forbear of General Philippe de S&eacute;gur, 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>r&eacute;gime</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,
-bonbonni&egrave;res, 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, S&egrave;vres 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>proc&egrave;s-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 B&eacute;arn, Madame la Comtesse Dubarry.’ Choiseul’s
-face!”</p>
-
-<p>“And Polastron’s!” cried the Comtesse, catching up the laugh. “And de
-Guemen&eacute;e’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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn’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 B&eacute;arn, 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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn, 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 Vrilli&egrave;re 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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn’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. Honor&eacute; 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 B&eacute;arn 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel de
-Sartines. One of these brave men, who are mine, will read the riddle.</p>
-
-<p>“But outside the H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 Moli&egrave;re, 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 B&eacute;arn 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 Valli&egrave;re. 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel Dubarry with Monsieur Rochefort, returned to the
-H&ocirc;tel 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 Caf&eacute;
-de R&eacute;gence. He was the first of the dandies, the predecessor of the
-<em>boulevardier</em> of the Boulevard de Gand and the Caf&eacute; 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>d&eacute;jeuner</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 larv&aelig; 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>d&eacute;jeuner</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 caf&eacute;s.”</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’&Eacute;v&ecirc;que. 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 H&ocirc;tel 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-&agrave;-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
-M&aacute;ison 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 Th&eacute;&acirc;tre
-Moli&egrave;re; 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 Moli&egrave;re? And what does he do but get the ear
-of the Duc de la Vrilli&egrave;re 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 Th&eacute;&acirc;tre Moli&egrave;re, 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. Honor&eacute;.</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 H&ocirc;tel 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>risqu&eacute;</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 H&ocirc;tel 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 B&eacute;arn.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah!” said Rochefort, inwardly cursing the Comtesse de B&eacute;arn, “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 B&eacute;arn?” 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 B&Eacute;ARN</span></h3>
-
-<p class="drop-cap">TO present the mentality of the Comtesse de B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn, 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 B&eacute;arn 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 H&ocirc;tel de Sartines. Moss-grown in her old
-ch&acirc;teau 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
-B&eacute;arn 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
-Ch&acirc;teau de B&eacute;arn, 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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn
-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 H&ocirc;tel St. Pol and the Logis
-d’Angoul&ecirc;me foreshadowed me, and Chambord and all those ch&acirc;teaux 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
-ch&acirc;teau 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>fain&eacute;ant</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 B&eacute;arn.”</p>
-
-<p>Never had Madame Dubarry looked more beautiful than now, as she
-advanced, led by this lady of the old <em>r&eacute;gime</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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn? Madame de B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn. 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 Ad&eacute;la&iuml;de, 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 B&eacute;arn 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 Beaupr&eacute;, 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 B&eacute;n&eacute;dictines de la Ville l’&Eacute;v&ecirc;que, and sought the side way to
-the H&ocirc;tel de Soyecourt that runs between the wall of the B&eacute;n&eacute;dictines
-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 H&ocirc;tel 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
-Eug&egrave;ne 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>,&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <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 f&ecirc;te 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 Bruy&egrave;re,<br />
-“In the Suite of Her Royal Highness<br />
-“At Compi&egrave;gne.</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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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
-Compi&egrave;gne, 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 Bruy&egrave;re. 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 Bruy&egrave;re 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 Bruy&egrave;re——”</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 Bruy&egrave;re—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 Bruy&egrave;re 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>m&eacute;nage</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. Honor&eacute;, on the churches and
-spires of the cit&eacute;, on the Montagne Ste. Genevieve and on the grim,
-black towers of the Bastille.</p>
-
-<p>His way lay through the Rue de Proven&ccedil;e, a street that might have been
-named after its inhabitants, for here, amidst the early morning stir of
-life, you might hear the Proven&ccedil;al 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 Caf&eacute; de R&eacute;gence.”</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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 entr&eacute;e of his private
-apartments. She was on a footing with the Duc de la Vrilli&egrave;re, 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 B&eacute;arn, 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 B&eacute;arn?”</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 Caf&eacute; de R&eacute;gence 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 H&ocirc;tel Dubarry, reached the Rue St. Honor&eacute;
-and walked up it, past the H&ocirc;tel de Noailles, and in the direction of
-the Palais Royal.</p>
-
-<p>The Rue St. Honor&eacute; 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. Honor&eacute;, 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. Honor&eacute;, you had the Place
-Vend&ocirc;me opening from it on the left, beyond the Place Vend&ocirc;me the great
-door giving entrance to the Jacobins, beyond that, as you advanced, the
-Rue de l’&Eacute;chelle, 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. Honor&eacute; 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 Man&eacute;ge. 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
-Caf&eacute; de R&eacute;gence, 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. Honor&eacute;, 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. Honor&eacute; 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 Caf&eacute; de R&eacute;gence, when he reached it, he found what he
-imagined to be the <em>hors-d’œuvre</em> for a regular banquet.</p>
-
-<p>The Caf&eacute; de R&eacute;gence, 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 habitu&eacute;s of the caf&eacute; 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>d&eacute;jeuner</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 M&uuml;ller, 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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
-Guemen&eacute;e. 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 Caf&eacute; de R&eacute;gence.”</p>
-
-<p>“And yet you found me,” said Rochefort.</p>
-
-<p>“Because, monsieur, I belong to the H&ocirc;tel de Sartines, not to the H&ocirc;tel
-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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 caf&eacute; 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 caf&eacute;, 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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
-arbal&egrave;tes, 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 H&ocirc;tel
-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>H&eacute;, 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 Fran&ccedil;ois 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
-H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel de Sartines were always ready
-and never broke down, the horses of the H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel de Sartines and taking
-its way towards the Faubourg St. Honor&eacute;. 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 &agrave; 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>p&egrave;re</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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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
-H&ocirc;tel 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 Compi&egrave;gne.”</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 Compi&egrave;gne; 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel Dubarry, she found the house <em>en f&ecirc;te</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 abb&eacute; 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 Tr&ocirc;ne.</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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel chiming the hour of eleven. He determined
-to wait till midnight. Jumeau had told him that Camus had gone to the
-H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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.
-Honor&eacute;, 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 H&ocirc;tel 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>d&eacute;marche</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 h&eacute;!</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>d&eacute;jeuner</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 h&eacute;</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>d&eacute;jeuner</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. Honor&eacute;.”</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 Lyc&eacute;e
-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 B&eacute;arn 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 B&eacute;arn 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. Honor&eacute;. 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,&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <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 H&ocirc;tel 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
-Ch&acirc;teau 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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>d&eacute;nouement</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>d&eacute;nouement</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 H&ocirc;tel 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 Guemen&eacute;e 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 Guemen&eacute;e 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 Guemen&eacute;e,” 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 Guemen&eacute;e 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 h&ocirc;tel. 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 H&ocirc;tel 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 B&eacute;arn 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&#8217;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
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