CHAPTER VI
THE RAT MORT
I
The guide had stepped out of the house into the street, Yvonne followingclosely on his heels. The night was very dark and the narrow littleCarrefour de la Poissonnerie very sparsely lighted. Somewhere overheadon the right, something groaned and creaked persistently in the wind. Alittle further on a street lanthorn was swinging aloft, throwing a smallcircle of dim, yellowish light on the unpaved street below. By itsfitful glimmer Yvonne could vaguely perceive the tall figure of herguide as he stepped out with noiseless yet firm tread, his shoulderbrushing against the side of the nearest house as he kept closely withinthe shadow of its high wall. The sight of his broad back thrilled her.She had fallen to imagining whether this was not perchance that gallantand all-powerful Scarlet Pimpernel himself: the mysterious friend ofwhom her dear milor so often spoke with an admiration that was akin toworship. He too was probably tall and broad--for English gentlemen wereusually built that way; and Yvonne's over-excited mind went galloping onthe wings of fancy, and in her heart she felt that she was glad that shehad suffered so much, and then lived through such a glorious moment asthis.
Now from the narrow unpaved yard in front of the house the guide turnedsharply to the right. Yvonne could only distinguish outlines. Thestreets of Nantes were familiar to her, and she knew pretty well whereshe was. The lanthorn inside the clock tower of Le Bouffay guidedher--it was now on her right--the house wherein she had been kept aprisoner these past three days was built against the walls of the greatprison house. She knew that she was in the Carrefour de la Poissonnerie.
She felt neither fatigue nor cold, for she was wildly excited. The keennorth-westerly wind searched all the weak places in her worn clothingand her thin shoes were wet through. But her courage up to this pointhad never once forsaken her. Hope and the feeling of freedom gave hermarvellous strength, and when her guide paused a moment ere he turnedthe angle of the high wall and whispered hurriedly: "You have courage,my lady?" she was able to answer serenely: "In plenty, sir."
She tried to peer into the darkness in order to realise whither she wasbeing led. The guide had come to a halt in front of the house which wasnext to that of Louise Adet: it projected several feet in front of thelatter: the thing that had creaked so weirdly in the wind turned out tobe a painted sign, which swung out from an iron bracket fixed into thewall. Yvonne could not read the writing on the sign, but she noticedthat just above it there was a small window dimly lighted from within.
What sort of a house it was Yvonne could not, of course, see. Thefrontage was dark save for narrow streaks of light which peeped throughthe interstices of the door and through the chinks of ill-fastenedshutters on either side. Not a sound came from within, but now that theguide had come to a halt it seemed to Yvonne--whose nerves and senseshad become preternaturally acute--that the whole air around her wasfilled with muffled sounds, and when she stood still and strained herears to listen she was conscious right through the inky blackness ofvague forms--shapeless and silent--that glided past her in the gloom.
II
"Your friends will meet you here," the guide whispered as he pointed tothe door of the house in front of him. "The door is on the latch. Pushit open and walk in boldly. Then gather up all your courage, for youwill find yourself in the company of poor people, whose manners aresomewhat rougher than those to which you have been accustomed. Butthough the people are uncouth, you will find them kind. Above all youwill find that they will pay no heed to you. So I entreat you do not beafraid. Your friends would have arranged for a more refined placewherein to come and find you, but as you may well imagine they had nochoice."
"I quite understand, sir," said Yvonne quietly, "and I am not afraid."
"Ah! that's brave!" he rejoined. "Then do as I tell you. I give you myword that inside that house you will be perfectly safe until such timeas your friends are able to get to you. You may have to wait an hour, oreven two; you must have patience. Find a quiet place in one of thecomers of the room and sit there quietly, taking no notice of what goeson around you. You will be quite safe, and the arrival of your friendsis only a question of time."
"My friends, sir?" she said earnestly, and her voice shook slightly asshe spoke, "are you not one of the most devoted friends I can ever hopeto have? I cannot find the words now wherewith to thank you, but...."
"I pray you do not thank me," he broke in gruffly, "and do not wastetime in parleying. The open street is none too safe a place for you justnow. The house is."
His hand was on the latch and he was about to push open the door, whenYvonne stopped him with a word.
"My father?" she whispered with passionate entreaty. "Will you help himtoo?"
"M. le duc de Kernogan is as safe as you are, my lady," he replied. "Hewill join you anon. I pray you have no fears for him. Your friends arecaring for him in the same way as they care for you."
"Then I shall see him ... soon?"
"Very soon. And in the meanwhile," he added, "I pray you to sit quitestill and to wait events ... despite anything you may see or hear. Yourfather's safety and your own--not to speak of that of yourfriends--hangs on your quiescence, your silence, your obedience."
"I will remember, sir," rejoined Yvonne quietly. "I in my turn entreatyou to have no fears for me."
Even while she said this, the man pushed the door open.
III
Yvonne had meant to be brave. Above all she had meant to be obedient.But even so, she could not help recoiling at sight of the place whereshe had just been told she must wait patiently and silently for an hour,or even two.
The room into which her guide now gently urged her forward was large andlow, only dimly lighted by an oil-lamp which hung from the ceiling andemitted a thin stream of black smoke and evil smell. Such air as therewas, was foul and reeked of the fumes of alcohol and charcoal, of thesmoking lamp and of rancid grease. The walls had no doubt beenwhitewashed once, now they were of a dull greyish tint, with here andthere hideous stains of red or the marks of a set of greasy fingers. Theplaster was hanging in strips and lumps from the ceiling; it had fallenaway in patches from the walls where it displayed the skeleton lathsbeneath. There were two doors in the wall immediately facing the frontentrance, and on each side of the latter there was a small window, bothinsecurely shuttered. To Yvonne the whole place appeared unspeakablysqualid and noisome. Even as she entered her ears caught the sound ofhideous muttered blasphemy, followed by quickly suppressed hoarse andmirthless laughter and the piteous cry of an infant at the breast.
There were perhaps sixteen to twenty people in the room--amongst them agoodly number of women, some of whom had tiny, miserable atoms ofhumanity clinging to their ragged skirts. A group of men in tatteredshirts, bare shins and sabots stood in the centre of the room and hadapparently been in conclave when the entrance of Yvonne and her guidecaused them to turn quickly to the door and to scan the new-comers witha furtive, suspicious look which would have been pathetic had it notbeen so full of evil intent. The muttered blasphemy had come from thisgroup; one or two of the men spat upon the ground in the direction ofthe door, where Yvonne instinctively had remained rooted to the spot.
As for the women, they only betrayed their sex by the ragged clotheswhich they wore: there was not a face here which had on it a single lineof softness or of gentleness: they might have been old women or young:their hair was of a uniform, nondescript colour, lank and unkempt,hanging in thin strands over their brows; their eyes were sunken, theircheeks either flaccid or haggard--there was no individuality amongstthem--just one uniform sisterhood of wretchedness which had alreadygone hand in hand with crime.
Across one angle of the room there was a high wooden counter like a bar,on which stood a number of jugs and bottles, some chunks of bread andpieces of cheese, and a collection of pewter mugs. An old man and a fat,coarse-featured, middle-aged woman stood behind it and dispensed variousnoxious-looking liquors. Above their heads upon the grimy, tumble-downwall the Republican device "Libe
rte! Egalite! Fraternite!" was scrawledin charcoal in huge characters, and below it was scribbled the hideousdoggrel which an impious mind had fashioned last autumn on the subjectof the martyred Queen.
IV
Yvonne had closed her eyes for a moment as she entered; now she turnedappealingly toward her guide.
"Must it be in here?" she asked.
"I am afraid it must," he replied with a sigh. "You told me that youwould be brave."
She pulled herself together resolutely. "I will be brave," she saidquietly.
"Ah! that's better," he rejoined. "I give you my word that you will beabsolutely safe in here until such time as your friends can get to you.I entreat you to gather up your courage. I assure you that thesewretched people are not unkind: misery--not unlike that which youyourself have endured--has made them what they are. No doubt we shouldhave arranged for a better place for you wherein to await your friendsif we had the choice. But you will understand that your safety and ourown had to be our paramount consideration, and we had no choice."
"I quite understand, sir," said Yvonne valiantly, "and am alreadyashamed of my fears."
And without another word of protest she stepped boldly into the room.
For a moment or two the guide remained standing on the threshold,watching Yvonne's progress. She had already perceived an empty bench inthe furthest angle of the room, up against the door opposite, where shehoped or believed that she could remain unmolested while she waitedpatiently and in silence as she had been ordered to do. She skirted thegroups of men in the centre of the room as she went, but even so shefelt more than she heard that muttered insults accompanied the furtiveand glowering looks wherewith she was regarded. More than one wretchspat upon her skirts on the way.
But now she was in no sense frightened, only wildly excited; even herfeeling of horror she contrived to conquer. The knowledge that her ownattitude, and above all her obedience, would help her gallant rescuersin their work gave her enduring strength. She felt quite confident thatwithin an hour or two she would be in the arms of her dear milor who hadrisked his life in order to come to her. It was indeed well worth whileto have suffered as she had done, to endure all that she might yet haveto endure, for the sake of the happiness which was in store for her.
She turned to give a last look at her guide--a look which was intendedto reassure him completely as to her courage and her obedience: butalready he had gone and had closed the door behind him, and quiteagainst her will the sudden sense of loneliness and helplessnessclutched at her heart with a grip that made it ache. She wished that shehad succeeded in catching sight of the face of so valiant a friend: thefact that she was safely out of Louise Adet's vengeful clutches was dueto the man who had just disappeared behind that door. It would be thanksto him presently if she saw her father again. Yvonne felt more convincedthan ever that he was the Scarlet Pimpernel--milor's friend--who kepthis valiant personality a mystery, even to those who owed their lives tohim. She had seen the outline of his broad figure, she had felt thetouch of his hand. Would she recognise these again when she met him inEngland in the happy days that were to come? In any case she thoughtthat she would recognise the voice and the manner of speaking, so unlikethat of any English gentleman she had known.
V
The man who had so mysteriously led Yvonne de Kernogan from the house ofLouise Adet to the Rat Mort, turned away from the door of the tavern assoon as it had closed on the young girl, and started to go back the wayhe came.
At the angle formed by the high wall of the tavern he paused; a movingform had detached itself from the surrounding gloom and hailed him witha cautious whisper.
"Hist! citizen Martin-Roget, is that you?"
"Yes."
"Everything just as we anticipated?"
"Everything."
"And the wench safely inside?"
"Quite safely."
The other gave a low cackle, which might have been intended for a laugh.
"The simplest means," he said, "are always the best."
"She never suspected me. It was all perfectly simple. You are amagician, citizen Chauvelin," added Martin-Roget grudgingly. "I neverwould have thought of such a clever ruse."
"You see," rejoined Chauvelin drily, "I graduated in the school of amaster of all ruses--a master of daring and a past master in the art ofmimicry. And hope was our great ally--the hope that never forsakes aprisoner--that of getting free. Your fair Yvonne had boundless faith inthe power of her English friends, therefore she fell into our trap likea bird."
"And like a bird she shall struggle in vain after this," saidMartin-Roget slowly. "Oh! that I could hasten the flight of time--thenext few minutes will hang on me like hours. And I wish too it were notso bitterly cold," he added with a curse; "this north-westerly wind hasgot into my bones."
"On to your nerves, I imagine, citizen," retorted Chauvelin with alaugh; "for my part I feel as warm and comfortable as on a lovely day inJune."
"Hark! Who goes there?" broke in the other man abruptly, as a solitarymoving form detached itself from the surrounding inky blackness and thesound of measured footsteps broke the silence of the night.
"Quite in order, citizen!" was the prompt reply.
The shadowy form came a step or two further forward.
"Is it you, citizen Fleury?" queried Chauvelin.
"Himself, citizen," replied the other.
The men had spoken in a whisper. Fleury now placed his hand onChauvelin's arm.
"We had best not stand so close to the tavern," he said, "the nighthawks are already about and we don't want to scare them."
He led the others up the yard, then into a very narrow passage which laybetween Louise Adet's house and the Rat Mort and was bordered by thehigh walls of the houses on either side.
"This is a blind alley," he whispered. "We have the wall of Le Bouffayin front of us: the wall of the Rat Mort is on one side and the house ofthe citizeness Adet on the other. We can talk here undisturbed."
Overhead there was a tiny window dimly lighted from within. Chauvelinpointed up to it.
"What is that?" he asked.
"An aperture too small for any human being to pass through," repliedFleury drily. "It gives on a small landing at the foot of the stairs. Itold Friche to try and manoeuvre so that the wench and her father arepushed in there out of the way while the worst of the fracas is goingon. That was your suggestion, citizen Chauvelin."
"It was. I was afraid the two aristos might get spirited away while yourmen were tackling the crowd in the tap-room. I wanted them put away in asafe place."
"The staircase is safe enough," rejoined Fleury; "it has no egress savethat on the tap-room and only leads to the upper story and the attic.The house has no back entrance--it is built against the wall of LeBouffay."
"And what about your Marats, citizen commandant?"
"Oh! I have them all along the street--entirely under cover but closelyon the watch--half a company and all keen after the game. The thousandfrancs you promised them has stimulated their zeal most marvellously,and as soon as Paul Friche in there has whipped up the tempers of thefrequenters of the Rat Mort, we shall be ready to rush the place and Iassure you, citizen Chauvelin, that only a disembodied ghost--if therebe one in the place--will succeed in evading arrest."
"Is Paul Friche already at his post then?"
"And at work--or I'm much mistaken," replied Fleury as he suddenlygripped Chauvelin by the arm.
For just at this moment the silence of the winter's night was broken byloud cries which came from the interior of the Rat Mort--voices wereraised to hoarse and raucous cries--men and women all appeared to beshrieking together, and presently there was a loud crash as ofoverturned furniture and broken glass.
"A few minutes longer, citizen Fleury," said Chauvelin, as thecommandant of the Marats turned on his heel and started to go back tothe Carrefour de la Poissonnerie.
"Oh yes!" whispered the latter, "we'll wait awhile longer to give theEnglishmen time to arrive on the scene. T
he coast is clear for them--myMarats are hidden from sight behind the doorways and shop-fronts of thehouses opposite. In about three minutes from now I'll send themforward."
"And good luck to your hunting, citizen," whispered Chauvelin inresponse.
Fleury very quickly disappeared in the darkness and the other two menfollowed in his wake. They hugged the wall of the Rat Mort as they wentalong and its shadow enveloped them completely: their shoes made nosound on the unpaved ground. Chauvelin's nostrils quivered as he drewthe keen, cold air into his lungs and faced the north-westerly blastwhich at this moment also lashed the face of his enemy. His keen eyestried to pierce the gloom, his ears were strained to hear that merrypeal of laughter which in the unforgettable past had been wont toproclaim the presence of the reckless adventurer. He knew--he felt--ascertainly as he felt the air which he breathed, that the man whom hehated beyond everything on earth was somewhere close by, wrapped in themurkiness of the night--thinking, planning, intriguing, pitting hissharp wits, his indomitable pluck, his impudent dare-devilry against thesure and patient trap which had been set for him.
Half a company of Marats in front--the walls of Le Bouffay in the rear!Chauvelin rubbed his thin hands together!
"You are not a disembodied ghost, my fine Scarlet Pimpernel," hemurmured, "and this time I really think----"
Lord Tony's Wife: An Adventure of the Scarlet Pimpernel Page 16
