CHAPTER XVIII. THE REMOVAL
Chauvelin no longer made any pretence to hold Armand by the arm. Bytemperament as well as by profession a spy, there was one subject atleast which he had mastered thoroughly: that was the study of humannature. Though occasionally an exceptionally complex mental organisationbaffled him--as in the case of Sir Percy Blakeney--he prided himself,and justly, too, on reading natures like that of Armand St. Just as hewould an open book.
The excitable disposition of the Latin races he knew out and out;he knew exactly how far a sentimental situation would lead a youngFrenchman like Armand, who was by disposition chivalrous, and bytemperament essentially passionate. Above all things, he knew whenand how far he could trust a man to do either a sublime action or anessentially foolish one.
Therefore he walked along contentedly now, not even looking back to seewhether St. Just was following him. He knew that he did.
His thoughts only dwelt on the young enthusiast--in his mind hecalled him the young fool--in order to weigh in the balance the mightypossibilities that would accrue from the present sequence of events.The fixed idea ever working in the man's scheming brain had alreadytransformed a vague belief into a certainty. That the Scarlet Pimpernelwas in Paris at the present moment Chauvelin had now become convinced.How far he could turn the capture of Armand St. Just to the triumph ofhis own ends remained to be seen.
But this he did know: the Scarlet Pimpernel--the man whom he had learnedto know, to dread, and even in a grudging manner to admire--was not liketo leave one of his followers in the lurch. Marguerite's brother in theTemple would be the surest decoy for the elusive meddler who still, andin spite of all care and precaution, continued to baffle the army ofspies set upon his track.
Chauvelin could hear Armand's light, elastic footsteps resounding behindhim on the flagstones. A world of intoxicating possibilities surged upbefore him. Ambition, which two successive dire failures had atrophiedin his breast, once more rose up buoyant and hopeful. Once he had swornto lay the Scarlet Pimpernel by the heels, and that oath was not yetwholly forgotten; it had lain dormant after the catastrophe of Boulogne,but with the sight of Armand St. Just it had re-awakened and confrontedhim again with the strength of a likely fulfilment.
The courtyard looked gloomy and deserted. The thin drizzle which stillfell from a persistently leaden sky effectually held every outline ofmasonry, of column, or of gate hidden as beneath a shroud. The corridorwhich skirted it all round was ill-lighted save by an occasionaloil-lamp fixed in the wall.
But Chauvelin knew his way well. Heron's lodgings gave on the secondcourtyard, the Square du Nazaret, and the way thither led past the mainsquare tower, in the top floor of which the uncrowned King of Franceeked out his miserable existence as the plaything of a rough cobbler andhis wife.
Just beneath its frowning bastions Chauvelin turned back towards Armand.He pointed with a careless hand up-wards to the central tower.
"We have got little Capet in there," he said dryly. "Your chivalrousScarlet Pimpernel has not ventured in these precincts yet, you see."
Armand was silent. He had no difficulty in looking unconcerned; histhoughts were so full of Jeanne that he cared but little at this momentfor any Bourbon king or for the destinies of France.
Now the two men reached the postern gate. A couple of sentinels werestanding by, but the gate itself was open, and from within there camethe sound of bustle and of noise, of a good deal of swearing, and alsoof loud laughter.
The guard-room gave on the left of the gate, and the laughter came fromthere. It was brilliantly lighted, and Armand, peering in, in the wakeof Chauvelin, could see groups of soldiers sitting and standing about.There was a table in the centre of the room, and on it a number of jugsand pewter mugs, packets of cards, and overturned boxes of dice.
But the bustle did not come from the guard-room; it came from thelanding and the stone stairs beyond.
Chauvelin, apparently curious, had passed through the gate, and Armandfollowed him. The light from the open door of the guard-room cut sharplyacross the landing, making the gloom beyond appear more dense andalmost solid. From out the darkness, fitfully intersected by a lanthornapparently carried to and fro, moving figures loomed out ghost-like andweirdly gigantic. Soon Armand distinguished a number of large objectsthat encumbered the landing, and as he and Chauvelin left the sharplight of the guard-room 'behind them, he could see that the largeobjects were pieces of furniture of every shape and size; a woodenbedstead--dismantled--leaned against the wall, a black horsehair sofablocked the way to the tower stairs, and there were numberless chairsand several tables piled one on the top of the other.
In the midst of this litter a stout, flabby-cheeked man stood,apparently giving directions as to its removal to persons at presentunseen.
"Hola, Papa Simon!" exclaimed Chauvelin jovially; "moving out to-day?What?"
"Yes, thank the Lord!--if there be a Lord!" retorted the other curtly."Is that you, citizen Chauvelin?"
"In person, citizen. I did not know you were leaving quite so soon. Iscitizen Heron anywhere about?"
"Just left," replied Simon. "He had a last look at Capet just beforemy wife locked the brat up in the inner room. Now he's gone back to hislodgings."
A man carrying a chest, empty of its drawers, on his back now camestumbling down the tower staircase. Madame Simon followed close on hisheels, steadying the chest with one hand.
"We had better begin to load up the cart," she called to her husbandin a high-pitched querulous voice; "the corridor is getting too muchencumbered."
She looked suspiciously at Chauvelin and at Armand, and when sheencountered the former's bland, unconcerned gaze she suddenly shiveredand drew her black shawl closer round her shoulders.
"Bah!" she said, "I shall be glad to get out of this God-forsaken hole.I hate the very sight of these walls."
"Indeed, the citizeness does not look over robust in health," saidChauvelin with studied politeness. "The stay in the tower did not,mayhap, bring forth all the fruits of prosperity which she hadanticipated."
The woman eyed him with dark suspicion lurking in her hollow eyes.
"I don't know what you mean, citizen," she said with a shrug of her wideshoulders.
"Oh! I meant nothing," rejoined Chauvelin, smiling. "I am so interestedin your removal; busy man as I am, it has amused me to watch you. Whomhave you got to help you with the furniture?"
"Dupont, the man-of-all-work, from the concierge," said Simon curtly."Citizen Heron would not allow any one to come in from the outside."
"Rightly too. Have the new commissaries come yet?
"Only citizen Cochefer. He is waiting upstairs for the others."
"And Capet?"
"He is all safe. Citizen Heron came to see him, and then he told me tolock the little vermin up in the inner room. Citizen Cochefer had justarrived by that time, and he has remained in charge."
During all this while the man with the chest on his back was waitingfor orders. Bent nearly double, he was grumbling audibly at hisuncomfortable position.
"Does the citizen want to break my back?" he muttered.
"We had best get along--quoi?"
He asked if he should begin to carry the furniture out into the street.
"Two sous have I got to pay every ten minutes to the lad who holds mynag," he said, muttering under his breath; "we shall be all night atthis rate."
"Begin to load then," commanded Simon gruffly. "Here!--begin with thissofa."
"You'll have to give me a hand with that," said the man. "Wait a bit;I'll just see that everything is all right in the cart. I'll be backdirectly."
"Take something with you then as you are going down," said Madame Simonin her querulous voice.
The man picked up a basket of linen that stood in the angle by the door.He hoisted it on his back and shuffled away with it across the landingand out through the gate.
"How did Capet like parting from his papa and maman?" asked Chauvelinwith a laugh.
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p; "H'm!" growled Simon laconically. "He will find out soon enough how welloff he was under our care."
"Have the other commissaries come yet?"
"No. But they will be here directly. Citizen Cochefer is upstairsmounting guard over Capet."
"Well, good-bye, Papa Simon," concluded Chauvelin jovially. "Citizeness,your servant!"
He bowed with unconcealed irony to the cobbler's wife, and nodded toSimon, who expressed by a volley of motley oaths his exact feelings withregard to all the agents of the Committee of General Security.
"Six months of this penal servitude have we had," he said roughly, "andno thanks or pension. I would as soon serve a ci-devant aristo as youraccursed Committee."
The man Dupont had returned. Stolidly, after the fashion of his kind,he commenced the removal of citizen Simon's goods. He seemed a clumsyenough creature, and Simon and his wife had to do most of the workthemselves.
Chauvelin watched the moving forms for a while, then he shrugged hisshoulders with a laugh of indifference, and turned on his heel.