CHAPTER VI. THE COMMITTEE'S AGENT
It was a narrow, ill-ventilated place, with but one barred window thatgave on the courtyard. An evil-smelling lamp hung by a chain from thegrimy ceiling, and in a corner of the room a tiny iron stove shed moreunpleasant vapour than warm glow around.
There was but little furniture: two or three chairs, a table which waslittered with papers, and a corner-cupboard--the open doors of whichrevealed a miscellaneous collection--bundles of papers, a tin saucepan,a piece of cold sausage, and a couple of pistols. The fumes of staletobacco-smoke hovered in the air, and mingled most unpleasantly withthose of the lamp above, and of the mildew that penetrated through thewalls just below the roof.
Heron pointed to one of the chairs, and then sat down on the other,close to the table, on which he rested his elbow. He picked up ashort-stemmed pipe, which he had evidently laid aside at the sound ofthe bell, and having taken several deliberate long-drawn puffs from it,he said abruptly:
"Well, what is it now?"
In the meanwhile de Batz had made himself as much at home in thisuncomfortable room as he possibly could. He had deposited his hat andcloak on one rickety rush-bottomed chair, and drawn another close tothe fire. He sat down with one leg crossed over the other, his podgybe-ringed hand wandering with loving gentleness down the length of hisshapely calf.
He was nothing if not complacent, and his complacency seemed highly toirritate his friend Heron.
"Well, what is it?" reiterated the latter, drawing his visitor'sattention roughly to himself by banging his fist on the table. "Out withit! What do you want? Why have you come at this hour of the night tocompromise me, I suppose--bring your own d--d neck and mine into thesame noose--what?"
"Easy, easy, my friend," responded de Batz imperturbably; "waste notso much time in idle talk. Why do I usually come to see you? Surely youhave had no cause to complain hitherto of the unprofitableness of myvisits to you?"
"They will have to be still more profitable to me in the future,"growled the other across the table. "I have more power now."
"I know you have," said de Batz suavely. "The new decree? What? Youmay denounce whom you please, search whom you please, arrest whom youplease, and send whom you please to the Supreme Tribunal without givingthem the slightest chance of escape."
"Is it in order to tell me all this that you have come to see me at thishour of the night?" queried Heron with a sneer.
"No; I came at this hour of the night because I surmised that in thefuture you and your hell-hounds would be so busy all day 'beatingup game for the guillotine' that the only time you would have at thedisposal of your friends would be the late hours of the night. I saw youat the theatre a couple of hours ago, friend Heron; I didn't think tofind you yet abed."
"Well, what do you want?"
"Rather," retorted de Batz blandly, "shall we say, what do YOU want,citizen Heron?"
"For what?
"For my continued immunity at the hands of yourself and your pack?"
Heron pushed his chair brusquely aside and strode across the narrow roomdeliberately facing the portly figure of de Batz, who with head slightlyinclined on one side, his small eyes narrowed till they appearedmere slits in his pockmarked face, was steadily and quite placidlycontemplating this inhuman monster who had this very day been givenuncontrolled power over hundreds of thousands of human lives.
Heron was one of those tall men who look mean in spite of their height.His head was small and narrow, and his hair, which was sparse and lank,fell in untidy strands across his forehead. He stooped slightly from theneck, and his chest, though wide, was hollow between the shoulders. Buthis legs were big and bony, slightly bent at the knees, like those of anill-conditioned horse.
The face was thin and the cheeks sunken; the eyes, very large andprominent, had a look in them of cold and ferocious cruelty, a lookwhich contrasted strangely with the weakness and petty greed apparentin the mouth, which was flabby, with full, very red lips, and chin thatsloped away to the long thin neck.
Even at this moment as he gazed on de Batz the greed and the crueltyin him were fighting one of those battles the issue of which is alwaysuncertain in men of his stamp.
"I don't know," he said slowly, "that I am prepared to treat with youany longer. You are an intolerable bit of vermin that has annoyedthe Committee of General Security for over two years now. It wouldbe excessively pleasant to crush you once and for all, as one would abuzzing fly."
"Pleasant, perhaps, but immeasurably foolish," rejoined de Batz coolly;"you would only get thirty-five livres for my head, and I offer you tentimes that amount for the self-same commodity."
"I know, I know; but the whole thing has become too dangerous."
"Why? I am very modest. I don't ask a great deal. Let your hounds keepoff my scent."
"You have too many d--d confederates."
"Oh! Never mind about the others. I am not bargaining about them. Letthem look after themselves."
"Every time we get a batch of them, one or the other denounces you."
"Under torture, I know," rejoined de Batz placidly, holding his podgyhands to the warm glow of the fire. "For you have started torture inyour house of Justice now, eh, friend Heron? You and your friend thePublic Prosecutor have gone the whole gamut of devilry--eh?"
"What's that to you?" retorted the other gruffly.
"Oh, nothing, nothing! I was even proposing to pay you three thousandfive hundred livres for the privilege of taking no further interest inwhat goes on inside this prison!"
"Three thousand five hundred!" ejaculated Heron involuntarily, and thistime even his eyes lost their cruelty; they joined issue with the mouthin an expression of hungering avarice.
"Two little zeros added to the thirty-five, which is all you would getfor handing me over to your accursed Tribunal," said de Batz, and, as ifthoughtlessly, his hand wandered to the inner pocket of his coat, anda slight rustle as of thin crisp paper brought drops of moisture to thelips of Heron.
"Leave me alone for three weeks and the money is yours," concluded deBatz pleasantly.
There was silence in the room now. Through the narrow barred windowthe steely rays of the moon fought with the dim yellow light of the oillamp, and lit up the pale face of the Committee's agent with its linesof cruelty in sharp conflict with those of greed.
"Well! is it a bargain?" asked de Batz at last in his usual smooth, oilyvoice, as he half drew from out his pocket that tempting little bundleof crisp printed paper. "You have only to give me the usual receipt forthe money and it is yours."
Heron gave a vicious snarl.
"It is dangerous, I tell you. That receipt, if it falls into some cursedmeddler's hands, would send me straight to the guillotine."
"The receipt could only fall into alien hands," rejoined de Batzblandly, "if I happened to be arrested, and even in that case theycould but fall into those of the chief agent of the Committee of GeneralSecurity, and he hath name Heron. You must take some risks, my friend.I take them too. We are each in the other's hands. The bargain is quitefair."
For a moment or two longer Heron appeared to be hesitating whilst deBatz watched him with keen intentness. He had no doubt himself as to theissue. He had tried most of these patriots in his own golden crucible,and had weighed their patriotism against Austrian money, and had neverfound the latter wanting.
He had not been here to-night if he were not quite sure. This inveterateconspirator in the Royalist cause never took personal risks. He lookedon Heron now, smiling to himself the while with perfect satisfaction.
"Very well," said the Committee's agent with sudden decision, "I'll takethe money. But on one condition."
"What is it?"
"That you leave little Capet alone."
"The Dauphin!"
"Call him what you like," said Heron, taking a step nearer to de Batz,and from his great height glowering down in fierce hatred and rage uponhis accomplice; "call the young devil what you like, but leave us todeal with him."
&nb
sp; "To kill him, you mean? Well, how can I prevent it, my friend?"
"You and your like are always plotting to get him out of here. I won'thave it. I tell you I won't have it. If the brat disappears I am a deadman. Robespierre and his gang have told me as much. So you leave himalone, or I'll not raise a finger to help you, but will lay my own handson your accursed neck."
He looked so ferocious and so merciless then, that despite himself, theselfish adventurer, the careless self-seeking intriguer, shuddered witha quick wave of unreasoning terror. He turned away from Heron's piercinggaze, the gaze of a hyena whose prey is being snatched from beneath itsnails. For a moment he stared thoughtfully into the fire.
He heard the other man's heavy footsteps cross and re-cross the narrowroom, and was conscious of the long curved shadow creeping up themildewed wall or retreating down upon the carpetless floor.
Suddenly, without any warning he felt a grip upon his shoulder. He gavea start and almost uttered a cry of alarm which caused Heron to laugh.The Committee's agent was vastly amused at his friend's obvious accessof fear. There was nothing that he liked better than that he shouldinspire dread in the hearts of all those with whom he came in contact.
"I am just going on my usual nocturnal round," he said abruptly. "Comewith me, citizen de Batz."
A certain grim humour was apparent in his face as he proffered thisinvitation, which sounded like a rough command. As de Batz seemed tohesitate he nodded peremptorily to him to follow. Already he had goneinto the hall and picked up his lanthorn. From beneath his waistcoat hedrew forth a bunch of keys, which he rattled impatiently, calling to hisfriend to come.
"Come, citizen," he said roughly. "I wish to show you the one treasurein this house which your d--d fingers must not touch."
Mechanically de Batz rose at last. He tried to be master of the terrorwhich was invading his very bones. He would not own to himself even thathe was afraid, and almost audibly he kept murmuring to himself that hehad no cause for fear.
Heron would never touch him. The spy's avarice, his greed of money werea perfect safeguard for any man who had the control of millions, andHeron knew, of course, that he could make of this inveterate plottera comfortable source of revenue for himself. Three weeks would soon beover, and fresh bargains could be made time and again, while de Batz wasalive and free.
Heron was still waiting at the door, even whilst de Batz wonderedwhat this nocturnal visitation would reveal to him of atrocity and ofoutrage. He made a final effort to master his nervousness, wrapped hiscloak tightly around him, and followed his host out of the room.