Now everything seemed at once quite clear; his duty, his next actions,every word that he would speak to Chauvelin. Those that Percy hadwritten to him were already indelibly graven on his memory.
Chauvelin had waited with his usual patience, silent and imperturbable,while the young man read. Now when he saw that Armand had finished, hesaid quietly:
"Just one question, citizen, and I need not detain you longer. But firstwill you kindly give me back that letter? It is a precious documentwhich will for ever remain in the archives of the nation."
But even while he spoke Armand, with one of those quick intuitionsthat come in moments of acute crisis, had done just that which he feltBlakeney would wish him to do. He had held the letter close to thecandle. A corner of the thin crisp paper immediately caught fire, andbefore Chauvelin could utter a word of anger, or make a movement toprevent the conflagration, the flames had licked up fully one half ofthe letter, and Armand had only just time to throw the remainder on thefloor and to stamp out the blaze with his foot.
"I am sorry, citizen," he said calmly; "an accident."
"A useless act of devotion," interposed Chauvelin, who already hadsmothered the oath that had risen to his lips. "The Scarlet Pimpernel'sactions in the present matter will not lose their merited publicitythrough the foolish destruction of this document."
"I had no thought, citizen," retorted the young man, "of commenting onthe actions of my chief, or of trying to deny them that publicity whichyou seem to desire for them almost as much as I do."
"More, citizen, a great deal more! The impeccable Scarlet Pimpernel,the noble and gallant English gentleman, has agreed to deliver into ourhands the uncrowned King of France--in exchange for his own life andfreedom. Methinks that even his worst enemy would not wish for a betterending to a career of adventure, and a reputation for bravery unequalledin Europe. But no more of this, time is pressing, I must help citizenHeron with his final preparations for his journey. You, of course,citizen St. Just, will act in accordance with Sir Percy Blakeney'swishes?"
"Of course," replied Armand.
"You will present yourself at the main entrance of the house of Justiceat six o'clock this morning."
"I will not fail you."
"A coach will be provided for you. You will follow the expedition ashostage for the good faith of your chief."
"I quite understand."
"H'm! That's brave! You have no fear, citizen St. Just?"
"Fear of what, sir?
"You will be a hostage in our hands, citizen; your life a guarantee thatyour chief has no thought of playing us false. Now I was thinking of--ofcertain events--which led to the arrest of Sir Percy Blakeney."
"Of my treachery, you mean," rejoined the young man calmly, eventhough his face had suddenly become pale as death. "Of the damnablelie wherewith you cheated me into selling my honour, and made me what Iam--a creature scarce fit to walk upon this earth."
"Oh!" protested Chauvelin blandly.
"The damnable lie," continued Armand more vehemently, "that hath made meone with Cain and the Iscariot. When you goaded me into the hellish act,Jeanne Lange was already free."
"Free--but not safe."
"A lie, man! A lie! For which you are thrice accursed. Great God, is itnot you that should have cause for fear? Methinks were I to strangle younow I should suffer less of remorse."
"And would be rendering your ex-chief but a sorry service," interposedChauvelin with quiet irony. "Sir Percy Blakeney is a dying man, citizenSt. Just; he'll be a dead man at dawn if I do not put in an appearanceby six o'clock this morning. This is a private understanding betweencitizen Heron and myself. We agreed to it before I came to see you."
"Oh, you take care of your own miserable skin well enough! But you neednot be afraid of me--I take my orders from my chief, and he has notordered me to kill you."
"That was kind of him. Then we may count on you? You are not afraid?"
"Afraid that the Scarlet Pimpernel would leave me in the lurch becauseof the immeasurable wrong I have done to him?" retorted Armand, proudand defiant in the name of his chief. "No, sir, I am not afraid of that;I have spent the last fortnight in praying to God that my life might yetbe given for his."
"H'm! I think it most unlikely that your prayers will be granted,citizen; prayers, I imagine, so very seldom are; but I don't know, Inever pray myself. In your case, now, I should say that you have not theslightest chance of the Deity interfering in so pleasant a manner. Evenwere Sir Percy Blakeney prepared to wreak personal revenge on you, hewould scarcely be so foolish as to risk the other life which we shallalso hold as hostage for his good faith."
"The other life?"
"Yes. Your sister, Lady Blakeney, will also join the expeditionto-morrow. This Sir Percy does not yet know; but it will come as apleasant surprise for him. At the slightest suspicion of false play onSir Percy's part, at his slightest attempt at escape, your life and thatof your sister are forfeit; you will both be summarily shot before hiseyes. I do not think that I need be more precise, eh, citizen St. Just?"
The young man was quivering with passion. A terrible loathing forhimself, for his crime which had been the precursor of this terriblesituation, filled his soul to the verge of sheer physical nausea. A redfilm gathered before his eyes, and through it he saw the grinning faceof the inhuman monster who had planned this hideous, abominable thing.It seemed to him as if in the silence and the hush of the night, abovethe feeble, flickering flame that threw weird shadows around, a group ofdevils were surrounding him, and were shouting, "Kill him! Kill him now!Rid the earth of this hellish brute!"
No doubt if Chauvelin had exhibited the slightest sign of fear, if hehad moved an inch towards the door, Armand, blind with passion, drivento madness by agonising remorse more even than by rage, would havesprung at his enemy's throat and crushed the life out of him as he wouldout of a venomous beast. But the man's calm, his immobility, recalledSt. Just to himself. Reason, that had almost yielded to passion again,found strength to drive the enemy back this time, to whisper a warning,an admonition, even a reminder. Enough harm, God knows, had been doneby tempestuous passion already. And God alone knew what terribleconsequences its triumph now might bring in its trial, and striking onArmand's buzzing ears Chauvelin's words came back as a triumphant andmocking echo:
"He'll be a dead man at dawn if I do not put in an appearance by sixo'clock."
The red film lifted, the candle flickered low, the devils vanished, onlythe pale face of the Terrorist gazed with gentle irony out of the gloom.
"I think that I need not detain you any longer, citizen, St. Just," hesaid quietly; "you can get three or four hours' rest yet before you needmake a start, and I still have a great many things to see to. I wish yougood-night, citizen."
"Good-night," murmured Armand mechanically.
He took the candle and escorted his visitor back to the door. He waitedon the landing, taper in hand, while Chauvelin descended the narrow,winding stairs.
There was a light in the concierge's lodge. No doubt the woman hadstruck it when the nocturnal visitor had first demanded admittance. Hisname and tricolour scarf of office had ensured him the full measure ofher attention, and now she was evidently sitting up waiting to let himout.
St. Just, satisfied that Chauvelin had finally gone, now turned back tohis own rooms.