Lord Tony's Wife: An Adventure of the Scarlet Pimpernel

by Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy

  BOOK TWO: NANTES, DECEMBER, 1793

  CHAPTER I

  THE TIGER'S LAIR

  I

  Nantes is in the grip of the tiger.

  Representative Carrier--with powers as of a proconsul--has been sentdown to stamp out the lingering remnants of the counter-revolution. LaVendee is temporarily subdued; the army of the royalists driven backacross the Loire; but traitors still abound--this the NationalConvention in Paris hath decreed--there are traitors everywhere. Theywere not _all_ massacred at Cholet and Savenay. Disbanded, yes! but notexterminated, and wolves must not be allowed to run loose, lest theyband again, and try to devour the flocks.

  Therefore extermination is the order of the day. Every traitor orwould-be traitor--every son and daughter and father and mother oftraitors must be destroyed ere they do more mischief. AndCarrier--Carrier the coward who turned tail and bolted at Cholet--issent to Nantes to carry on the work of destruction. Wolves and wolflingsall! Let none survive. Give them fair trial, of course. As traitors theyhave deserved death--have they not taken up arms against the Republicand against the Will and the Reign of the People? But let a court ofjustice sit in Nantes town; let the whole nation know how traitors aredealt with: let the nation see that her rulers are both wise and just.Let wolves and wolflings be brought up for trial, and set up theguillotine on Place du Bouffay with four executioners appointed to doher work. There would be too much work for two, or even three. Let therebe four--and let the work of extermination be complete.

  And Carrier--with powers as of a proconsul--arrives in Nantes town andsets to work to organise his household. Civil and military--with pompand circumstance--for the son of a small farmer, destined originally forthe Church and for obscurity is now virtual autocrat in one of the greatcities of France. He has power of life and death over thousands ofcitizens--under the direction of justice, of course! So now he hascitizens of the bedchamber, and citizens of the household, he has aguard of honour and a company of citizens of the guard. And above all hehas a crowd of spies around him--servants of the Committee of PublicSafety so they are called--they style themselves "La Compagnie Marat" inhonour of the great patriot who was foully murdered by a femalewolfling.

  So la Compagnie Marat is formed--they wear red bonnets on theirheads--no stockings on their feet--short breeches to display their bareshins: their captain, Fleury, has access at all times to the person ofthe proconsul, to make report on the raids which his company effect atall hours of the day or night. Their powers are supreme too. In and outof houses--however private--up and down the streets--through shops,taverns and warehouses, along the quays and the yards--everywhere theygo. Everywhere they have the right to go! to ferret and to spy, tolisten, to search, to interrogate--the red-capped Company is paid forwhat it can find. Piece-work, what? Work for the guillotine!

  And they it is who keep the guillotine busy. Too busy in fact. And thecourt of justice sitting in the Hotel du Departement is overworked too.Carrier gets impatient. Why waste the time of patriots by so muchparaphernalia of justice? Wolves and wolflings can be exterminated somuch more quickly, more easily than that. It only needs a stroke ofgenius, one stroke, and Carrier has it.

  He invents the _Noyades_!

  The Drownages we may call them!

  They are so simple! An old flat-bottomed barge. The work of two or threeship's carpenters! Portholes below the water-line and made to open at agiven moment. All so very, very simple. Then a journey downstream as faras Belle Isle or la Marechale, and "sentence of deportation" executedwithout any trouble on a whole crowd of traitors--"vertical deportation"Carrier calls it facetiously and is mightily proud of his invention andof his witticism too.

  The first attempt was highly successful. Ninety priests, and not oneescaped. Think of the work it would have entailed on the guillotine--andon the friends of Carrier who sit in justice in the Hotel duDepartement! Ninety heads! Bah! That old flat-bottomed barge is the mostwonderful labour-saving machine.

  After that the "Drownages" become the order of the day. The red-cappedCompany recruits victims for the hecatomb, and over Nantes Town therehangs a pall of unspeakable horror. The prisons are not vast enough tohold all the victims, so the huge entrepot, the bonded warehouse on thequay, is converted: instead of chests of coffee it is now encumberedwith human freight: into it pell-mell are thrown all those who aredestined to assuage Carrier's passion for killing: ten thousand of them:men, women, and young children, counter-revolutionists, innocenttradesmen, thieves, aristocrats, criminals and women of evil fame--theyare herded together like cattle, without straw whereon to lie, withoutwater, without fire, with barely food enough to keep up the lastattenuated thread of a miserable existence.

  And when the warehouse gets over full, to the Loire with them!--ahundred or two at a time! Pestilence, dysentery decimates their numbers.Under pretence of hygienic requirements two hundred are flung into theriver on the 14th day of December. Two hundred--many of themwomen--crowds of children and a batch of parish priests.

  Some there are among Carrier's colleagues--those up in Paris--whoprotest! Such wholesale butchery will not redound to the credit of anyrevolutionary government--it even savours of treachery--it isunpatriotic! There are the emissaries of the National Convention,deputed from Paris to supervise and control--they protest as much asthey dare--but such men are swept off their feet by the torrent ofCarrier's gluttony for blood. Carrier's mission is to "purge thepolitical body of every evil that infests it." Vague and yet precise! Hereckons that he has full powers and thinks he can flaunt those powers inthe face of those sent to control him. He does it too for three wholemonths ere he in his turn meets his doom. But for the moment he isomnipotent. He has to make report every week to the Committee of PublicSafety, and he sends brief, garbled versions of his doings. "He ispacifying La Vendee! he is stamping out the remnants of the rebellion!he is purging the political body of every evil that infests it." Anon hesucceeds in getting the emissaries of the National Convention recalled.He is impatient of control. "They are weak, pusillanimous, unpatriotic!He must have freedom to act for the best."

  After that he remains virtual dictator, with none but obsequious,terrified myrmidons around him: these are too weak to oppose him in anyway. And the municipality dare not protest either--nor the districtcouncil--nor the departmental. They are merely sheep who watch others oftheir flock being sent to the slaughter.

  After that from within his lair the man tiger decides that it is a pityto waste good barges on the cattle: "Fling them out!" he cries. "Flingthem out! Tie two and two together. Man and woman! criminal and aristo!the thief with the ci-devant duke's daughter! the ci-devant marquis withthe slut from the streets! Fling them all out together into the Loireand pour a hail of grape shot above them until the last struggler hasdisappeared!" "Equality!" he cries, "Equality for all! Fraternity! Unityin death!"

  His friends call this new invention of his: "Marriage Republicain!" andhe is pleased with the _mot_.

  And Republican marriages become the order of the day.

  II

  Nantes itself now is akin to a desert--a desert wherein the air isfilled with weird sounds of cries and of moans, of furtive footstepsscurrying away into dark and secluded byways, of musketry and confusednoises, of sorrow and of lamentations.

  Nantes is a city of the dead--a city of sleepers. Only Carrier isawake--thinking and devising and planning shorter ways and swifter, forthe extermination of traitors.

  In the Hotel de la Villestreux the tiger has built his lair: at the apexof the island of Feydeau, with the windows of the hotel facing straightdown the Loire. From here there is a magnificent view downstream uponthe quays which are now deserted and upon the once prosperous port ofNantes.

  The staircase of the hotel which leads up to the apartments of theproconsul is crowded every day and all day with suppliants and withpetitioners, with the citizens of the household and the members of theCompagnie Marat.

  But no one has access to the person of the dictator. He stands aloof,ap
art, hidden from the eyes of the world, a mysterious personality whoseword sends hundreds to their death, whose arbitrary will has reduced aonce flourishing city to abject poverty and squalor. No tyrant has eversurrounded himself with a greater paraphernalia of pomp andcircumstance--no aristo has ever dwelt in greater luxury: the spoils ofchurches and chateaux fill the Hotel de la Villestreux from attic tocellar, gold and silver plate adorn his table, priceless works of arthang upon his walls, he lolls on couches and chairs which have been theresting-place of kings. The wholesale spoliation of the entirecountry-side has filled the demagogue's abode with all that is mostsumptuous in the land.

  And he himself is far more inaccessible than was _le Roi Soleil_ in thedays of his most towering arrogance, than were the Popes in the gloriousdays of mediaeval Rome. Jean Baptiste Carrier, the son of a small farmer,the obscure deputy for Cantal in the National Convention, dwells in theHotel de la Villestreux as in a stronghold. No one is allowed near himsave a few--a very few--intimates: his valet, two or three women, Fleurythe commander of the Marats, and that strange and abominable youngster,Jacques Lalouet, about whom the chroniclers of that tragic epoch cantell us so little--a cynical young braggart, said to be a cousin ofRobespierre and the son of a midwife of Nantes, beardless, handsome andvicious: the only human being--so we are told--who had any influenceover the sinister proconsul: mere hanger-on of Carrier or spy of theNational Convention, no one can say--a malignant personality which hasremained an enigma and a mystery to this hour.

  None but these few are ever allowed now inside the inner sanctuarywherein dwells and schemes the dictator. Even Lamberty, Fouquet and theothers of the staff are kept at arm's length. Martin-Roget, Chauvelinand other strangers are only allowed as far as the ante-room. The doorof the inner chamber is left open and they hear the proconsul's voiceand see his silhouette pass and repass in front of them, but that isall.

  Fear of assassination--the inevitable destiny of the tyrant--haunts theman-tiger even within the fastnesses of his lair. Day and night acarriage with four horses stands in readiness on La Petite Hollande, thegreat, open, tree-bordered Place at the extreme end of the Isle Feydeauand on which give the windows of the Hotel de la Villestreux. Day andnight the carriage is ready--with coachman on the box and postillion inthe saddle, who are relieved every two hours lest they get sleepy orslack--with luggage in the boot and provisions always kept fresh insidethe coach; everything always ready lest something--a warning from afriend or a threat from an enemy, or merely a sudden access ofunreasoning terror, the haunting memory of a bloody act--should decidethe tyrant at a moment's notice to fly from the scenes of hisbrutalities.

  III

  Carrier in the small room which he has fitted up for himself as asumptuous boudoir, paces up and down just like a wild beast in its cage:and he rubs his large bony hands together with the excitement engenderedby his own cruelties, by the success of this wholesale butchery which hehas invented and carried through.

  There never was an uglier man than Carrier, with that long hatchet-faceof his, those abnormally high cheekbones, that stiff, lanky hair, thatdrooping, flaccid mouth and protruding underlip. Nature seemed to haveset herself the task of making the face a true mirror of the soul--thedark and hideous soul on which of a surety Satan had already set hisstamp. But he is dressed with scrupulous care--not to say elegance--andwith a display of jewelry the provenance of which is as unjustifiable asthat of the works of art which fill his private sanctum in every nookand cranny.

  In front of the tall window, heavy curtains of crimson damask are drawnclosely together, in order to shut out the light of day: the room is inall but total darkness: for that is the proconsul's latest caprice: thatno one shall see him save in semi-obscurity.

  Captain Fleury has stumbled into the room, swearing lustily as he barkshis shins against the angle of a priceless Louis XV bureau. He has tomake report on the work done by the Compagnie Marat. Fifty-three priestsfrom the department of Anjou who have refused to take the new oath ofobedience to the government of the Republic. The red-capped Company whotracked them down and arrested them, vow that all these _calotins_ haveprecious objects--money, jewelry, gold plate--concealed about theirpersons. What is to be done about these things? Are the _calotins_ to beallowed to keep them or to dispose of them for their own profit?

  Carrier is highly delighted. What a haul!

  "Confiscate everything," he cries, "then ship the whole crowd of thatpestilential rabble, and don't let me hear another word about them."

  Fleury goes. And that same night fifty-three priests are "shipped" inaccordance with the orders of the proconsul, and Carrier, still rubbinghis large bony hands contentedly together, exclaims with glee:

  "What a torrent, eh! What a torrent! What a revolution!"

  And he sends a letter to Robespierre. And to the Committee of PublicSafety he makes report:

  "Public spirit in Nantes," he writes, "is magnificent: it has risen tothe most sublime heights of revolutionary ideals."

  IV

  After the departure of Fleury, Carrier suddenly turned to a slenderyouth, who was standing close by the window, gazing out through thefolds of the curtain on the fine vista of the Loire and the quays whichstretched out before him.

  "Introduce citizen Martin-Roget into the ante-room now, Lalouet," hesaid loftily. "I will hear what he has to say, and citizen Chauvelin maypresent himself at the same time."

  Young Lalouet lolled across the room, smothering a yawn.

  "Why should you trouble about all that rabble?" he said roughly, "it isnearly dinner-time and you know that the chef hates the soup to be keptwaiting."

  "I shall not trouble about them very long," replied Carrier, who hadjust started picking his teeth with a tiny gold tool. "Open the door,boy, and let the two men come."

  Lalouet did as he was told. The door through which he passed he leftwide open, he then crossed the ante-room to a further door, threw itopen and called in a loud voice:

  "Citizen Chauvelin! Citizen Martin-Roget!"

  For all the world like the ceremonious audiences at Versailles in thedays of the great Louis.

  There was sound of eager whisperings, of shuffling of feet, of chairsdragged across the polished floor. Young Lalouet had already and quiteunconcernedly turned his back on the two men who, at his call, hadentered the room.

  Two chairs were placed in front of the door which led to the privatesanctuary--still wrapped in religious obscurity--where Carrier satenthroned. The youth curtly pointed to the two chairs, then went back tothe inner room. The two men advanced. The full light of midday fell uponthem from the tall window on their right--the pale, grey, colourlesslight of December. They bowed slightly in the direction of the audiencechamber where the vague silhouette of the proconsul was alone visible.

  The whole thing was a farce. Martin-Roget held his lips tightly closedtogether lest a curse or a sneer escaped them. Chauvelin's face wasimpenetrable--but it is worthy of note that just one year later when thehalf-demented tyrant was in his turn brought before the bar of theConvention and sentenced to the guillotine, it was citizen Chauvelin'stestimony which weighed most heavily against him.

  There was silence for a time: Martin-Roget and Chauvelin were waitingfor the dictator's word. He sat at his desk with the scanty light, whichfiltrated between the curtains, immediately behind him, his ungainlyform with the high shoulders and mop-like, shaggy hair half swallowed upby the surrounding gloom. He was deliberately keeping the other two menwaiting and busied himself with turning over desultorily the papers andwriting tools upon his desk, in the intervals of picking at his teethand muttering to himself all the time as was his wont. Young Lalouet hadresumed his post beside the curtained window and he was giving sundrysigns of his growing impatience.

  At last Carrier spoke:

  "And now, citizen Martin-Roget," he said in tones of that loftycondescension which he loved to affect, "I am prepared to hear what youhave to tell me with regard to the cattle which you brought into ourcity the other day.
Where are the aristos now? and why have they notbeen handed over to commandant Fleury?"

  "The girl," replied Martin-Roget, who had much ado to keep his vehementtemper in check, and who chose for the moment to ignore the second ofCarrier's peremptory queries, "the girl is in lodgings in the Carrefourde la Poissonnerie. The house is kept by my sister, whose lover washanged four years ago by the ci-devant duc de Kernogan for trapping twopigeons. A dozen or so lads from our old village--men who worked with myfather and others who were my friends--lodge in my sister's house. Theykeep a watchful eye over the wench for the sake of the past, for my sakeand for the sake of my sister Louise. The ci-devant Kernogan woman iswell-guarded. I am satisfied as to that."

  "And where is the ci-devant duc?"

  "In the house next door--a tavern at the sign of the Rat Mort--a placewhich is none too reputable, but the landlord--Lemoine--is a goodpatriot and he is keeping a close eye on the aristo for me."

  "And now will you tell me, citizen," rejoined Carrier with that unctuoussuavity which always veiled a threat, "will you tell me how it comesthat you are keeping a couple of traitors alive all this while at thecountry's expense?"

  "At mine," broke in Martin-Roget curtly.

  "At the country's expense," reiterated the proconsul inflexibly. "Breadis scarce in Nantes. What traitors eat is stolen from good patriots. Ifyou can afford to fill two mouths at your expense, I can supply you withsome that have never done aught but proclaim their adherence to theRepublic. You have had those two aristos inside the city nearly a weekand----"

  "Only three days," interposed Martin-Roget, "and you must have patiencewith me, citizen Carrier. Remember I have done well by you, by bringingsuch high game to your bag----"

  "Your high game will be no use to me," retorted the other with a harshlaugh, "if I am not to have the cooking of it. You have talked ofdisgrace for the rabble and of your own desire for vengeance over them,but----"

  "Wait, citizen," broke in Martin-Roget firmly, "let us understand oneanother. Before I embarked on this business you gave me your promisethat no one--not even you--would interfere between me and my booty."

  "And no one has done so hitherto to my knowledge, citizen," rejoinedCarrier blandly. "The Kernogan rabble has been yours to do with what youlike--er--so far," he added significantly. "I said that I would notinterfere and I have not done so up to now, even though thepestilential crowd stinks in the nostrils of every good patriot inNantes. But I don't deny that it was a bargain that you should have afree hand with them ... for a time, and Jean Baptiste Carrier has neveryet gone back on a given word."

  Martin-Roget made no comment on this peroration. He shrugged his broadshoulders and suddenly fell to contemplating the distant landscape. Hehad turned his head away in order to hide the sneer which curled hislips at the recollection of that "bargain" struck with the imperiousproconsul. It was a matter of five thousand francs which had passed fromone pocket to the other and had bound Carrier down to a definitepromise.

  After a brief while Carrier resumed: "At the same time," he said, "mypromise was conditional, remember. I want that cattle out of Nantes--Iwant the bread they eat--I want the room they occupy. I can't allow youto play fast and loose with them indefinitely--a week is quite longenough----"

  "Three days," corrected Martin-Roget once more.

  "Well! three days or eight," rejoined the other roughly. "Too long inany case. I must be rid of them out of this city or I shall have all thespies of the Convention about mine ears. I am beset with spies, citizenMartin-Roget, yes, even I--Jean Baptiste Carrier--the most selfless themost devoted patriot the Republic has ever known! Mine enemies up inParis send spies to dog my footsteps, to watch mine every action. Theyare ready to pounce upon me at the slightest slip, to denounce me, todrag me to their bar--they have already whetted the knife of theguillotine which is to lay low the head of the finest patriot inFrance----"

  "Hold on! hold on, Jean Baptiste my friend," here broke in young Lalouetwith a sneer, "we don't want protestations of your patriotism just now.It is nearly dinner time."

  Carrier had been carried away by his own eloquence. At Lalouet's mockingwords he pulled himself together: murmured: "You young viper!" in tonesof tigerish affection, and then turned back to Martin-Roget and resumedmore calmly:

  "They'll be saying that I harbour aristos in Nantes if I keep thatKernogan rabble here any longer. So I must be rid of them, citizenMartin-Roget ... say within the next four-and-twenty hours...." Hepaused for a moment or two, then added drily: "That is my last word, andyou must see to it. What is it you do want to do with them enfin?"

  "I want their death," replied Martin-Roget with a curse, and he broughthis heavy fist crashing down upon the arm of his chair, "but not amartyr's death, understand? I don't want the pathetic figure of YvonneKernogan and her father to remain as a picture of patient resignation inthe hearts and minds of every other aristo in the land. I don't want itto excite pity or admiration. Death is nothing for such as they! theyglory in it! they are proud to die. The guillotine is their finaltriumph! What I want for them is shame ... degradation ... a sensationaltrial that will cover them with dishonour.... I want their name draggedin the mire--themselves an object of derision or of loathing. I wantarticles in the _Moniteur_ giving account of the trial of the ci-devantduc de Kernogan and his daughter for something that is ignominious andbase. I want shame and mud slung at them--noise and beating of drums toproclaim their dishonour. Noise! noise! that will reach every corner ofthe land, aye that will reach Coblentz and Germany and England. It isthat which they would resent--the shame of it--the disgrace to theirname!"

  "Tshaw!" exclaimed Carrier. "Why don't you marry the wench, citizenMartin-Roget? That would be disgrace enough for her, I'll warrant," headded with a loud laugh, enchanted at his witticism.

  "I would to-morrow," replied the other, who chose to ignore the coarseinsult, "if she would consent. That is why I have kept her at mysister's house these three days."

  "Bah! you have no need of a traitor's consent. My consent issufficient.... I'll give it if you like. The laws of the Republicpermit, nay desire every good patriot to ally himself with an aristo, ifhe have a mind. And the Kernogan wench face to face with theguillotine--or worse--would surely prefer your embraces, citizen, what?"

  A deep frown settled between Martin-Roget's glowering eyes, and gave hisface a sinister expression.

  "I wonder ..." he muttered between his teeth.

  "Then cease wondering, citizen," retorted Carrier cynically, "and tryour Republican marriage on your Kernogans ... thief linked to aristo,cut-throat to a proud wench ... and then the Loire! Shame? Dishonour?Fal lal I say! Death, swift and sure and unerring. Nothing better hasyet been invented for traitors."

  Martin-Roget shrugged his shoulders.

  "You have never known," he said quietly, "what it is to hate."

  Carrier uttered an exclamation of impatience.

  "Bah!" he said, "that is all talk and nonsense. Theories, what? CitizenChauvelin is a living example of the futility of all that rubbish. Hetoo has an enemy it seems whom he hates more thoroughly than any goodpatriot has ever hated the enemies of the Republic. And hath thisdeadly hatred availed him, forsooth? He too wanted the disgrace anddishonour of that confounded Englishman whom I would simply have tossedinto the Loire long ago, without further process. What is the result?The Englishman is over in England, safe and sound, making long noses atcitizen Chauvelin, who has much ado to keep his own head out of theguillotine."

  Martin-Roget once more was silent: a look of sullen obstinacy hadsettled upon his face.

  "You may be right, citizen Carrier," he muttered after awhile.

  "I am always right," broke in Carrier curtly.

  "Exactly ... but I have your promise."

  "And I'll keep it, as I have said, for another four and twenty hours.Curse you for a mulish fool," added the proconsul with a snarl, "what inthe d----l's name do you want to do? You have talked a vast deal ofrubbish but you have told me nothing of y
our plans. Have you any ...that are worthy of my attention?"

  V

  Martin-Roget rose from his seat and began pacing up and down the narrowroom. His nerves were obviously on edge. It was difficult for anyman--let alone one of his temperament and half-tutored disposition--toremain calm and deferential in face of the overbearance of this brutalJack-in-office, Martin-Roget--himself an upstart--loathed the offensiveself-assertion of that uneducated and bestial parvenu, who had becomeall-powerful through the sole might of his savagery, and it cost him amighty effort to keep a violent retort from escaping his lips--a retortwhich probably would have cost him his head.

  Chauvelin, on the other hand, appeared perfectly unconcerned. Hepossessed the art of outward placidity to a masterly degree. Throughoutall this while he had taken no part in the discussion. He sat silent andall but motionless, facing the darkened room in front of him, as if hehad done nothing else in all his life but interview great dictators whochose to keep their sacred persons in the dark. Only from time to timedid his slender fingers drum a tattoo on the arm of his chair.

  Carrier had resumed his interesting occupation of picking his teeth: hislong, thin legs were stretched out before him; from beneath his flaccidlids he shot swift glances upwards, whenever Martin-Roget in hisrestless pacing crossed and recrossed in front of the open door. Butanon, when the latter came to a halt under the lintel and with his footalmost across the threshold, young Lalouet was upon him in an instant,barring the way to the inner sanctum.

  "Keep your distance, citizen," he said drily, "no one is allowed toenter here."

  Instinctively Martin-Roget had drawn back--suddenly awed despite himselfby the air of mystery which hung over that darkened room, and by the dimsilhouette of the sinister tyrant who at his approach had with equalsuddenness cowered in his lair, drawing his limbs together and thrustinghis head forward, low down over the desk, like a leopard crouching for aspring. But this spell of awe only lasted a few seconds, during whichMartin-Roget's unsteady gaze encountered the half-mocking, whollysupercilious glance of young Lalouet.

  The next, he had recovered his presence of mind. But this crowning actof audacious insolence broke the barrier of his self-restraint. An angryoath escaped him.

  "Are we," he exclaimed roughly, "back in the days of Capet, the tyrant,and of Versailles, that patriots and citizens are treated like menialsand obtrusive slaves? Pardieu, citizen Carrier, let me tell youthis...."

  "Pardieu, citizen Martin-Roget," retorted Carrier with a growl like thatof a savage dog, "let _me_ tell _you_ that for less than two pins I'llthrow you into the next barge that will float with open portholes downthe Loire. Get out of my presence, you swine, ere I call Fleury to throwyou out."

  Martin-Roget at the insult and the threat had become as pale as thelinen at his throat: a cold sweat broke out upon his forehead and hepassed his hand two or three times across his brow like a man dazed witha sudden and violent blow. His nerves, already overstrained and verymuch on edge, gave way completely. He staggered and would have measuredhis length across the floor, but that his hand encountered the back ofhis chair and he just contrived to sink into it, sick and faint,horror-struck and pallid.

  A low cackle--something like a laugh--broke from Chauvelin's thin lips.As usual he had witnessed the scene quite unmoved.

  "My friend Martin-Roget forgot himself for the moment, citizen Carrier,"he said suavely, "already he is ready to make amends."

  Jacques Lalouet looked down for a moment with infinite scorn expressedin his fine eyes, on the presumptuous creature who had dared to defy theomnipotent representative of the People. Then he turned on his heel, buthe did not go far this time: he remained standing close beside thedoor--the terrier guarding his master.

  Carrier laughed loud and long. It was a hideous, strident laugh whichhad not a tone of merriment in it.

  "Wake up, friend Martin-Roget," he said harshly, "I bear no malice: I ama good dog when I am treated the right way. But if anyone pulls my tailor treads on my paws, why! I snarl and growl of course. If the offenceis repeated ... I bite ... remember that; and now let us resume ourdiscourse, though I confess I am getting tired of your Kernogan rabble."

  While the great man spoke, Martin-Roget had succeeded in pulling himselftogether. His throat felt parched, his hands hot and moist: he was likea man who had been stumbling along a road in the dark and been suddenlypulled up on the edge of a yawning abyss into which he had all butfallen. With a few harsh words, with a monstrous insult Carrier had madehim feel the gigantic power which could hurl any man from the heights ofself-assurance and of ambition to the lowest depths of degradation: hehad shown him the glint of steel upon the guillotine.

  He had been hit as with a sledge-hammer--the blow hurt terribly, for ithad knocked all his self-esteem into nothingness and pulverised hisself-conceit. It had in one moment turned him into a humble and cringingsycophant.

  "I had no mind," he began tentatively, "to give offence. My thoughtswere bent on the Kernogans. They are a fine haul for us both, citizenCarrier, and I worked hard and long to obtain their confidence over inEngland and to induce them to come with me to Nantes."

  "No one denies that you have done well," retorted Carrier gruffly andnot yet wholly pacified. "If the haul had not been worth having youwould have received no help from me."

  "I have shown my gratitude for your help, citizen Carrier. I would showit again ... more substantially if you desire...."

  He spoke slowly and quite deferentially but the suggestion was obvious.Carrier looked up into his face: the light of measureless cupidity--thecupidity of the coarse-grained, enriched peasant--glittered in his paleeyes. It was by a great effort of will that he succeeded in concealinghis eagerness beneath his habitual air of lofty condescension:

  "Eh? What?" he queried airily.

  "If another five thousand francs is of any use to you...."

  "You seem passing rich, citizen Martin-Roget," sneered Carrier.

  "I have slaved and saved for four years. What I have amassed I willsacrifice for the completion of my revenge."

  "Well!" rejoined Carrier with an expressive wave of the hand, "itcertainly is not good for a pure-minded republican to own too muchwealth. Have we not fought," he continued with a grandiloquent gesture,"for equality of fortune as well as of privileges...."

  A sardonic laugh from young Lalouet broke in on the proconsul's eloquenteffusion.

  Carrier swore as was his wont, but after a second or two he began againmore quietly:

  "I will accept a further six thousand francs from you, citizenMartin-Roget, in the name of the Republic and all her needs. TheRepublic of France is up in arms against the entire world. She hath needof men, of arms, of...."

  "Oh! cut that," interposed young Lalouet roughly.

  But the over-vain, high and mighty despot who was ready to lash out withunbridled fury against the slightest show of disrespect on the part ofany other man, only laughed at the boy's impudence.

  "Curse you, you young viper," he said with that rude familiarity whichhe seemed to reserve for the boy, "you presume too much on myforbearance. These children you know, citizen.... Name of a dog!" headded roughly, "we are wasting time! What was I saying ...?"

  "That you would take six thousand francs," replied Martin-Roget curtly,"in return for further help in the matter of the Kernogans."

  "Why, yes!" rejoined Carrier blandly, "I was forgetting. But I'll showyou what a good dog I am. I'll help you with those Kernogans ... but youmistook my words, citizen: 'tis ten thousand francs you must pour intothe coffers of the Republic, for her servants will have to be placed atthe disposal of your private schemes of vengeance."

  "Ten thousand francs is a large sum," said Martin-Roget. "Let me hearwhat you will do for me for that."

  He had regained something of his former complacency. The man whobuys--be it goods, consciences or services--is always for the momentmaster of the man who sells. Carrier, despite his dictatorial ways, feltthis disadvantage, no doubt, for his tone wa
s more bland, his mannerless curt. Only young Jacques Lalouet stood by--like a snarlingterrier--still arrogant and still disdainful--the master of thesituation--seeing that neither schemes of vengeance nor those ofcorruption had ruffled his self-assurance. He remained beside the door,ready to pounce on either of the two intruders if they showed theslightest sign of forgetting the majesty of the great proconsul.

  VI

  "I told you just now, citizen Martin-Roget," resumed Carrier after abrief pause, "and I suppose you knew it already, that I am surroundedwith spies."

  "Spies, citizen?" murmured Martin-Roget, somewhat taken aback by thissudden irrelevance. "I didn't know ... I imagine.... Any one in yourposition...."

  "That's just it," broke in Carrier roughly. "My position is envied bythose who are less competent, less patriotic than I am. Nantes isswarming with spies. Mine enemies in Paris are working against me. Theywant to undermine the confidence which the National Convention reposesin her accredited representative."

  "Preposterous," ejaculated young Lalouet solemnly.

  "Well!" rejoined Carrier with a savage oath, "you would have thoughtthat the Convention would be only too thankful to get a strong man atthe head of affairs in this hotbed of treason and of rebellion. Youwould have thought that it was no one's affair to interfere with themanner in which I administer the powers that have been given me. Icommand in Nantes, what? Yet some busybodies up in Paris, some fools,seem to think that we are going too fast in Nantes. They have becomeweaklings over there since Marat has gone. It seems that they have heardrumours of our flat-bottomed barges and of our fine Republicanmarriages: apparently they disapprove of both. They don't realise thatwe have to purge an entire city of every kind of rabble--traitors aswell as criminals. They don't understand my aspirations, my ideals," headded loftily and with a wide, sweeping gesture of his arm, "which is tomake Nantes a model city, to free her from the taint of crime and oftreachery, and...."

  An impatient exclamation from young Lalouet once again broke in onCarrier's rhetoric, and Martin-Roget was able to slip in the query whichhad been hovering on his lips:

  "And is this relevant, citizen Carrier," he asked, "to the subject whichwe have been discussing?"

  "It is," replied Carrier drily, "as you will see in a moment. Learnthen, that it has been my purpose for some time to silence mine enemiesby sending to the National Convention a tangible reply to all theaccusations which have been levelled against me. It is my purpose toexplain to the Assembly my reasons for mine actions in Nantes, myDrownages, my Republican marriages, all the coercive measures which Ihave been forced to take in order to purge the city from all that isundesirable."

  "And think you, citizen Carrier," queried Martin-Roget without theslightest trace of a sneer, "that up in Paris they will understand yourexplanations?"

  "Yes! they will--they must when they realise that everything that I havedone has been necessitated by the exigencies of public safety."

  "They will be slow to realise that," mused the other. "The NationalConvention to-day is not what the Constitutional Assembly was in '92. Ithas become soft and sentimental. Many there are who will disapprove ofyour doings.... Robespierre talks loftily of the dignity of the Republic... her impartial justice.... The Girondins...."

  Carrier interposed with a coarse imprecation. He suddenly leanedforward, sprawling right across the desk. A shaft of light from betweenthe damask curtains caught the end of his nose and the tip of hisprotruding chin, distorting his face and making it seem grotesque aswell as hideous in the dim light. He appeared excited and inflated withvanity. He always gloried in the atrocities which he committed, andthough he professed to look with contempt on every one of hiscolleagues, he was always glad of an opportunity to display hisinventive powers before them, and to obtain their fulsome eulogy.

  "I know well enough what they talk about in Paris," he said, "but I havean answer--a substantial, definite answer for all their rubbish. Dignityof the Republic? Bah! Impartial justice? 'Tis force, strength, Spartanvigour that we want ... and I'll show them.... Listen to my plan,citizen Martin-Roget, and see how it will work in with yours. My idea isto collect together all the most disreputable and notorious evil-doersof this city ... there are plenty in the entrepot at the present moment,and there are plenty more still at large in the streets ofNantes--thieves, malefactors, forgers of State bonds, assassins andwomen of evil fame ... and to send them in a batch to Paris to appearbefore the Committee of Public Safety, whilst I will send to mycolleagues there a letter couched in terms of gentle reproach: 'See!' Ishall say, 'what I have to contend with in Nantes. See! the moralpestilence that infests the city. These evil-doers are but a few amongthe hundreds and thousands of whom I am vainly trying to purge this citywhich you have entrusted to my care!' They won't know how to deal withthe rabble," he continued with his harsh strident laugh. "They may sendthem to the guillotine wholesale or deport them to Cayenne, and theywill have to give them some semblance of a trial in any case. But theywill have to admit that my severe measures are justified, and in future,I imagine, they will leave me more severely alone."

  "If as you say," urged Martin-Roget, "the National Convention give yourcrowd a trial, you will have to produce some witnesses."

  "So I will," retorted Carrier cynically. "So I will. Have I not saidthat I will round up all the most noted evil-doers in the town? Thereare plenty of them I assure you. Lately, my Company Marat have notgreatly troubled about them. After Savenay there was such a crowd ofrebels to deal with, there was no room in our prisons for malefactors aswell. But we can easily lay our hands on a couple of hundred or so, andmembers of the municipality or of the district council, or tradespeopleof substance in the city will only be too glad to be rid of them, andwill testify against those that were actually caught red-handed. Not onebut has suffered from the pestilential rabble that has infested thestreets at night, and lately I have been pestered with complaints of allthese night-birds--men and women and...."

  Suddenly he paused. He had caught Martin-Roget's feverish gaze fixedexcitedly upon him. Whereupon he leaned back in his chair, threw hishead back and broke into loud and immoderate laughter.

  "By the devil and all his myrmidons, citizen!" he said, as soon as hehad recovered his breath, "meseems you have tumbled to my meaning as apig into a heap of garbage. Is not ten thousand francs far too small asum to pay for such a perfect realisation of all your dreams? We'll sendthe Kernogan girl and her father to Paris with the herd, what?... Ipromise you that such filth and mud will be thrown on them and on theirprecious name that no one will care to bear it for centuries to come."

  Martin-Roget of a truth had much ado to control his own excitement. Asthe proconsul unfolded his infamous plan, he had at once seen as in avision the realisation of all his hopes. What more awful humiliation,what more dire disgrace could be devised for proud Kernogan and hisdaughter than being herded together with the vilest scum that could begathered together among the flotsam and jetsam of the population of aseaport town? What more perfect retaliation could there be for theignominious death of Jean Adet the miller?

  Martin-Roget leaned forward in his chair. The hideous figure of Carrierwas no longer hideous to him. He saw in that misshapen, gawky form thevery embodiment of the god of vengeance, the wielder of the flail ofretributive justice which was about to strike the guilty at last.

  "You are right, citizen Carrier," he said, and his voice was thick andhoarse with excitement. He rested his elbow on his knee and his chin inhis hand. He hammered his nails against his teeth. "That was exactly inmy mind while you spoke."

  "I am always right," retorted Carrier loftily. "No one knows better thanI do how to deal with traitors."

  "And how is the whole thing to be accomplished? The wench is in mysister's house at present ... the father is in the Rat Mort...."

  "And the Rat Mort is an excellent place.... I know of none better. It isone of the worst-famed houses in the whole of Nantes ... themeeting-place of all the vagabonds, the thieves and the cut-throats
ofthe city."

  "Yes! I know that to my cost. My sister's house is next door to it. Atnight the street is not safe for decent females to be abroad: and thoughthere is a platoon of Marats on guard at Le Bouffay close by, they donothing to free the neighbourhood of that pest."

  "Bah!" retorted Carrier with cynical indifference, "they have moreimportant quarry to net. Rebels and traitors swarm in Nantes, what?Commandant Fleury has had no time hitherto to waste on mere cut-throats,although I had thoughts before now of razing the place to the ground.Citizen Lamberty has his lodgings on the other side and he does nothingbut complain of the brawls that go on there o' nights. Sure it is thatwhile a stone of the Rat Mort remains standing all the night-hawks ofNantes will congregate around it and brew mischief there which is nogood to me and no good to the Republic."

  "Yes! I know all about the Rat Mort. I found a night's shelter therefour years ago when...."

  "When the ci-devant duc de Kernogan was busy hanging your father--themiller--for a crime which he never committed. Well then, citizenMartin-Roget," continued Carrier with one of his hideous leers, "sinceyou know the Rat Mort so well what say you to your fair and statelyYvonne de Kernogan and her father being captured there in the company ofthe lowest scum of the population of Nantes?"

  "You mean ...?" murmured Martin-Roget, who had become livid withexcitement.

  "I mean that my Marats have orders to raid some of the haunts of ourNantese cut-throats, and that they may as well begin to-night and withthe Rat Mort. They will make a descent on the house and a thoroughperquisition, and every person--man, woman and child--found on thepremises will be arrested and sent with a batch of malefactors to Paris,there to be tried as felons and criminals and deported to Cayenne wherethey will, I trust, rot as convicts in that pestilential climate. Thinkyou," concluded the odious creature with a sneer, "that when put face toface with the alternative, your Kernogan wench will still refuse tobecome the wife of a fine patriot like yourself?"

  "I don't know," murmured Martin-Roget. "I ... I...."

  "But I do know," broke in Carrier roughly, "that ten thousand francs isfar too little to pay for so brilliant a realisation of all one's hopes.Ten thousand francs? 'Tis an hundred thousand you should give to showyour gratitude."

  Martin-Roget rose and stretched his large, heavy figure to its fullheight. He was at great pains to conceal the utter contempt which hefelt for the abominable wretch before whom he was forced to cringe.

  "You shall have ten thousand francs, citizen Carrier," he said slowly;"it is all that I possess in the world now--the last remaining fragmentof a sum of twenty-five thousand francs which I earned and scrapedtogether for the past four years. You have had five thousand francsalready. And you shall have the other ten. I do not grudge it. If twentyyears of my life were any use to you, I would give you that, in exchangefor the help you are giving me in what means far more than life to me."

  The proconsul laughed and shrugged his shoulders--of a truth he thoughtcitizen Martin-Roget an awful fool.

  "Very well then," he said, "we will call the matter settled. I confessthat it amuses me, although remember that I have warned you. With allthese aristos, I believe in the potency of my barges rather than in yourelaborate schemes. Still! it shall never be said that Jean BaptisteCarrier has left a friend in the lurch."

  "I am grateful for your help, citizen Carrier," said Martin-Rogetcoldly. Then he added slowly, as if reviewing the situation in his ownmind: "To-night, you say?"

  "Yes. To-night. My Marats under the command of citizen Fleury will makea descent upon the Rat Mort. Those shall be my orders. The place will beswept clean of every man, woman and child who is inside. If your twoKernogans are there ... well!" he said with a cynical laugh and a shrugof his shoulders, "they can be sent up to Paris with the rest of theherd."

  "The dinner bell has gone long ago," here interposed young Lalouetdrily, "the soup will be stone-cold and the chef red-hot with anger."

  "You are right, citizen Lalouet," said Carrier as he leaned back in hischair once more and stretched out his long legs at his ease. "We havewasted far too much time already over the affairs of a couple ofaristos, who ought to have been at the bottom of the Loire a week ago.The audience is ended," he added airily, and he made a gesture ofoverweening condescension, for all the world like the one wherewith the_Grand Monarque_ was wont to dismiss his courtiers.

  Chauvelin rose too and quietly turned to the door. He had not spoken aword for the past half-hour, ever since in fact he had put in aconciliatory word on behalf of his impetuous colleague. Whether he hadtaken an active interest in the conversation or not it were impossibleto say. But now, just as he was ready to go, and young Lalouet preparedto close the doors of the audience chamber, something seemed suddenly tooccur to him and he called somewhat peremptorily to the young man.

  "One moment, citizen," he said.

  "What is it now?" queried the youth insolently, and from his fine eyesthere shot a glance of contempt on the meagre figure of the oncepowerful Terrorist.

  "About the Kernogan wench," continued Chauvelin. "She will have to beconveyed some time before night to the tavern next door. There may beagencies at work on her behalf...."

  "Agencies?" broke in the boy gruffly. "What agencies?"

  "Oh!" said Chauvelin vaguely, "we all know that aristos have powerfulfriends these days. It will not be over safe to take the girl acrossafter dark from one house to another ... the alley is badly lighted: thewench will not go willingly. She might scream and create a disturbanceand draw ... er ... those same unknown agencies to her rescue. I think abody of Marats should be told off to convey her to the Rat Mort...."

  Young Lalouet shrugged his shoulders.

  "That's your affair," he said curtly. "Eh, Carrier?" And he glanced overhis shoulder at the proconsul, who at once assented.

  Martin-Roget--struck by his colleague's argument--would have interposed,but Carrier broke in with one of his uncontrolled outbursts of fury.

  "Ah ca," he exclaimed, "enough of this now. Citizen Lalouet is right andI have done enough for you already. If you want the Kernogan wench to beat the Rat Mort, you must see to getting her there yourself. She is nextdoor, what? I won't have anything to do with it and I won't have myMarats implicated in the affair either. Name of a dog! have I not toldyou that I am beset with spies? It would of a truth be a climax if I wasdenounced as having dragged aristos to a house of ill-fame and then hadthem arrested there as malefactors! Now out with you! I have had enoughof this! If your rabble is at the Rat Mort to-night, they shall bearrested with all the other cut-throats. That is my last word. The restis your affair. Lalouet! the door!"

  And without another word, and without listening to further protests fromMartin-Roget or Chauvelin, Jacques Lalouet closed the doors of theaudience chamber in their face.

  VII

  Outside on the landing, Martin-Roget swore a violent, all comprehensiveoath.

  "To think that we are under the heel of that skunk!" he said.

  "And that in the pursuit of our own ends we have need of his help!"added Chauvelin with a sigh.

  "If it were not for that.... And even now," continued Martin-Rogetmoodily, "I doubt what I can do. Yvonne de Kernogan will not follow mewillingly either to the Rat Mort or elsewhere, and if I am not to haveher conveyed by the guard...."

  He paused and swore again. His companion's silence appeared to irritatehim.

  "What do you advise me to do, citizen Chauvelin?" he asked.

  "For the moment," replied Chauvelin imperturbably, "I should advise youto join me in a walk along the quay as far as Le Bouffay. I have work tosee to inside the building and the north-westerly wind is sure to be ofgood counsel."

  An angry retort hovered on Martin-Roget's lips, but after a second ortwo he succeeded in holding his irascible temper in check. He gave aquick sigh of impatience.

  "Very well," he said curtly. "Let us to Le Bouffay by all means. I havemuch to think on, and as you say the north-westerly wind may blow awaythe c
obwebs which for the nonce do o'ercloud my brain."

  And the two men wrapped their mantles closely round their shoulders, forthe air was keen. Then they descended the staircase of the hotel andwent out into the street.