VI
HOW JEAN PIERRE MET THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL
As told by Himself
I
Ah, monsieur! the pity of it, the pity! Surely there are sins which lebon Dieu Himself will condone. And if not--well, I had to risk Hisdispleasure anyhow. Could I see them both starve, monsieur? I ask you!and M. le Vicomte had become so thin, so thin, his tiny, delicate boneswere almost through his skin. And Mme. la Marquise! an angel, monsieur!Why, in the happy olden days, before all these traitors and assassinsruled in France, M. and Mme. la Marquise lived only for the child, andthen to see him dying--yes, dying, there was no shutting one's eyes tothat awful fact--M. le Vicomte de Mortain was dying of starvation and ofdisease.
There we were all herded together in a couple of attics--one of whichlittle more than a cupboard--at the top of a dilapidated half-ruinedhouse in the Rue des Pipots--Mme. la Marquise, M. le Vicomte and I--justthink of that, monsieur! M. le Marquis had his chateau, as no doubt youknow, on the outskirts of Lyons. A loyal high-born gentleman; was itlikely, I ask you, that he would submit passively to the rule of thoseexecrable revolutionaries who had murdered their King, outraged theirQueen and Royal family, and, God help them! had already perpetratedevery crime and every abomination for which of a truth there could be nopardon either on earth or in Heaven? He joined that plucky but, alas!small and ill-equipped army of royalists who, unable to save their King,were at least determined to avenge him.
Well, you know well enough what happened. The counter-revolution failed;the revolutionary army brought Lyons down to her knees after a siege oftwo months. She was then marked down as a rebel city, and after theabominable decree of October 9th had deprived her of her very name, andCouthon had exacted bloody reprisals from the entire population for itsloyalty to the King, the infamous Laporte was sent down in order finallyto stamp out the lingering remnants of the rebellion. By that time,monsieur, half the city had been burned down, and one-tenth and more ofthe inhabitants--men, women, and children--had been massacred in coldblood, whilst most of the others had fled in terror from the appallingscene of ruin and desolation. Laporte completed the execrable work soably begun by Couthon. He was a very celebrated and skilful doctor atthe Faculty of Medicine, now turned into a human hyena in the name ofLiberty and Fraternity.
M. le Marquis contrived to escape with the scattered remnant of theRoyalist army into Switzerland. But Mme la Marquise throughout all thesestrenuous times had stuck to her post at the chateau like the valiantcreature that she was. When Couthon entered Lyons at the head of therevolutionary army, the whole of her household fled, and I was leftalone to look after her and M. le Vicomte.
Then one day when I had gone into Lyons for provisions, I suddenlychanced to hear outside an eating-house that which nearly froze themarrow in my old bones. A captain belonging to the Revolutionary Guardwas transmitting to his sergeant certain orders, which he had apparentlyjust received.
The orders were to make a perquisition at ten o'clock this same eveningin the chateau of Mortaine as the Marquis was supposed to be in hidingthere, and in any event to arrest every man, woman, and child who wasfound within its walls.
"Citizen Laporte," the captain concluded, "knows for a certainty thatthe ci-devant Marquise and her brat are still there, even if the Marquishas fled like the traitor that he is. Those cursed English spies whocall themselves the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel have been veryactive in Lyons of late, and citizen Laporte is afraid that they mightcheat the guillotine of the carcase of those aristos, as they havealready succeeded in doing in the case of a large number of traitors."
I did not, of course, wait to hear any more of that abominable talk. Isped home as fast as my old legs would carry me. That self-same evening,as soon as it was dark, Mme. la Marquise, carrying M. le Vicomte in herarms and I carrying a pack with a few necessaries on my back, left theancestral home of the Mortaines never to return to it again: for withinan hour of our flight a detachment of the revolutionary army made adescent upon the chateau; they ransacked it from attic to cellar, andfinding nothing there to satisfy their lust of hate, they burned thestately mansion down to the ground.
We were obliged to take refuge in Lyons, at any rate for a time. Greatas was the danger inside the city, it was infinitely greater on the highroads, unless we could arrange for some vehicle to take us aconsiderable part of the way to the frontier, and above all for somesort of passports--forged or otherwise--to enable us to pass the varioustoll-gates on the road, where vigilance was very strict. So we wanderedthrough the ruined and deserted streets of the city in search ofshelter, but found every charred and derelict house full of miserabletramps and destitutes like ourselves. Half dead with fatigue, Mme. laMarquise was at last obliged to take refuge in one of these houses whichwas situated in the Rue des Pipots. Every room was full to overflowingwith a miserable wreckage of humanity thrown hither by the tide ofanarchy and of bloodshed. But at the top of the house we found an attic.It was empty save for a couple of chairs, a table and a broken-downbedstead on which were a ragged mattress and pillow.
Here, monsieur, we spent over three weeks, at the end of which time M.le Vicomte fell ill, and then there followed days, monsieur, throughwhich I would not like my worst enemy to pass.
Mme. la Marquise had only been able to carry away in her flight whatready money she happened to have in the house at the time. Securities,property, money belonging to aristocrats had been ruthlessly confiscatedby the revolutionary government in Lyons. Our scanty resources rapidlybecame exhausted, and what was left had to be kept for milk anddelicacies for M. le Vicomte. I tramped through the streets in search ofa doctor, but most of them had been arrested on some paltry charge orother of rebellion, whilst others had fled from the city. There was onlythat infamous Laporte--a vastly clever doctor, I knew--but as soon takea lamb to a hungry lion as the Vicomte de Mortaine to that bloodthirstycut-throat.
Then one day our last franc went and we had nothing left. Mme. laMarquise had not touched food for two days. I had stood at the corner ofthe street, begging all the day until I was driven off by the gendarmes.I had only obtained three sous from the passers-by. I bought some milkand took it home for M. le Vicomte. The following morning when I enteredthe larger attic I found that Mme. la Marquise had fainted frominanition.
I spent the whole of the day begging in the streets and dodging theguard, and even so I only collected four sous. I could have got moreperhaps, only that at about midday the smell of food from aneating-house turned me sick and faint, and when I regained consciousnessI found myself huddled up under a doorway and evening gathering in fastaround me. If Mme. la Marquise could go two days without food I ought togo four. I struggled to my feet; fortunately I had retained possessionof my four sous, else of a truth I would not have had the courage to goback to the miserable attic which was the only home I knew.
I was wending my way along as fast as I could--for I knew that Mme. laMarquise would be getting terribly anxious--when, just as I turned intothe Rue Blanche, I spied two gentlemen--obviously strangers, for theywere dressed with a luxury and care with which we had long ceased to befamiliar in Lyons--walking rapidly towards me. A moment or two laterthey came to a halt, not far from where I was standing, and I heard thetaller one of the two say to the other in English--a language with whichI am vaguely conversant: "All right again this time, what, Tony?"
Both laughed merrily like a couple of schoolboys playing truant, andthen they disappeared under the doorway of a dilapidated house, whilst Iwas left wondering how two such elegant gentlemen dared be abroad inLyons these days, seeing that every man, woman and child who was dressedin anything but threadbare clothes was sure to be insulted in thestreets for an aristocrat, and as often as not summarily arrested as atraitor.
However, I had other things to think about, and had already dismissedthe little incident from my mind, when at the bottom of the Rue BlancheI came upon a knot of gaffers, men and women, who were talking andgesticulating very excitedly outside the door of a cook-
shop. At first Idid not take much notice of what was said: my eyes were glued to thefront of the shop, on which were displayed sundry delicacies of the kindwhich makes a wretched, starved beggar's mouth water as he goes by; aroast capon especially attracted my attention, together with a bottle ofred wine; these looked just the sort of luscious food which Mme. laMarquise would relish.
Well, sir, the law of God says: "Thou shalt not covet!" and no doubtthat I committed a grievous sin when my hungry eyes fastened upon thatroast capon and that bottle of Burgundy. We also know the stories ofJudas Iscariot and of Jacob's children who sold their own brother Josephinto slavery--such a crime, monsieur, I took upon my conscience then;for just as the vision of Mme. la Marquise eating that roast capon anddrinking that Burgundy rose before my eyes, my ears caught somefragments of the excited conversation which was going on all around me.
"He went this way!" someone said.
"No; that!" protested another.
"There's no sign of him now, anyway."
The owner of the shop was standing on his own doorstep, his legs wideapart, one arm on his wide hip, the other still brandishing the knifewherewith he had been carving for his customers.
"He can't have gone far," he said, as he smacked his thick lips.
"The impudent rascal, flaunting such fine clothes--like the aristo thathe is."
"Bah! these cursed English! They are aristos all of them! And this onewith his followers is no better than a spy!"
"Paid by that damned English Government to murder all our patriots andto rob the guillotine of her just dues."
"They say he had a hand in the escape of the ci-devant Duc de Sermeuseand all his brats from the very tumbril which was taking them toexecution."
A cry of loathing and execration followed this statement. There wasvigorous shaking of clenched fists and then a groan of baffled rage.
"We almost had him this time. If it had not been for these confounded,ill-lighted streets--"
"I would give something," concluded the shopkeeper, "if we could lay himby the heels."
"What would you give, citizen Dompierre?" queried a woman in the crowd,with a ribald laugh, "one of your roast capons?"
"Aye, little mother," he replied jovially, "and a bottle of my bestBurgundy to boot, to drink confusion to that meddlesome Englishman andhis crowd and a speedy promenade up the steps of the guillotine."
Monsieur, I assure you that at that moment my heart absolutely stoodstill. The tempter stood at my elbow and whispered, and I deliberatelysmothered the call of my conscience. I did what Joseph's brethren did,what brought Judas Iscariot to hopeless remorse. There was no doubt thatthe hue and cry was after the two elegantly dressed gentlemen whom I hadseen enter the dilapidated house in the Rue Blanche. For a second or twoI closed my eyes and deliberately conjured up the vision of Mme. laMarquise fainting for lack of food, and of M. le Vicomte dying for wantof sustenance; then I worked my way to the door of the shop and accostedthe burly proprietor with as much boldness as I could muster.
"The two Englishmen passed by me at the top of the Rue Blanche," I saidto him. "They went into a house ... I can show you which it is---"
In a moment I was surrounded by a screeching, gesticulating crowd. Itold my story as best I could; there was no turning back now from thepath of cowardice and of crime. I saw that brute Dompierre pick up thelargest roast capon from the front of his shop, together with a bottleof that wine which I had coveted; then he thrust both these treasuresinto my trembling hands and said:
"En avant!"
And we all started to run up the street, shouting: "Death to the Englishspies!" I was the hero of the expedition. Dompierre and another mancarried me, for I was too weak to go as fast as they wished. I washugging the capon and the bottle of wine to my heart; I had need to dothat, so as to still the insistent call of my conscience, for I felt acoward--a mean, treacherous, abominable coward!
When we reached the house and I pointed it out to Dompierre, the crowdbehind us gave a cry of triumph. In the topmost storey a window wasthrown open, two heads appeared silhouetted against the light within,and the cry of triumph below was answered by a merry, prolonged laughfrom above.
I was too dazed to realise very clearly what happened after that.Dompierre, I know, kicked open the door of the house, and the crowdrushed in, in his wake. I managed to keep my feet and to work my waygradually out of the crowd. I must have gone on mechanically, almostunconsciously, for the next thing that I remember with any distinctnesswas that I found myself once more speeding down the Rue Blanche, withall the yelling and shouting some little way behind me.
With blind instinct, too, I had clung to the capon and the wine, theprice of my infamy. I was terribly weak and felt sick and faint, but Istruggled on for a while, until my knees refused me service and I camedown on my two hands, whilst the capon rolled away into the gutter, andthe bottle of Burgundy fell with a crash against the pavement,scattering its precious contents in every direction.
There I lay, wretched, despairing, hardly able to move, when suddenly Iheard rapid and firm footsteps immediately behind me, and the nextmoment two firm hands had me under the arms, and I heard a voice saying:
"Steady, old friend. Can you get up? There! Is that better?"
The same firm hands raised me to my feet. At first I was too dazed tosee anything, but after a moment or two I was able to look around me,and, by the light of a street lanthorn immediately overhead, Irecognised the tall, elegantly dressed Englishman and his friend, whom Ihad just betrayed to the fury of Dompierre and a savage mob.
I thought that I was dreaming, and I suppose that my eyes betrayed thehorror which I felt, for the stranger looked at me scrutinisingly for amoment or two, then he gave the quaintest laugh I had ever heard in allmy life, and said something to his friend in English, which this time Ifailed to understand.
Then he turned to me:
"By my faith," he said in perfect French--so that I began to doubt if hewas an English spy after all--"I verily believe that you are the cleverrogue, eh? who obtained a roast capon and a bottle of wine from thatfool Dompierre. He and his boon companions are venting their wrath onyou, old compeer; they are calling you liar and traitor and cheat, inthe intervals of wrecking what is left of the house, out of which myfriend and I have long since escaped by climbing up the neighbouringgutter-pipes and scrambling over the adjoining roofs."
Monsieur, will you believe me when I say that he was actually saying allthis in order to comfort me? I could have sworn to that because of thewonderful kindliness which shone out of his eyes, even through thegood-humoured mockery wherewith he obviously regarded me. Do you knowwhat I did then, monsieur? I just fell on my knees and loudly thankedGod that he was safe; at which both he and his friend once again beganto laugh, for all the world like two schoolboys who had escaped awhipping, rather than two men who were still threatened with death.
"Then it WAS you!" said the taller stranger, who was still laughing soheartily that he had to wipe his eyes with his exquisite lacehandkerchief.
"May God forgive me," I replied.
The next moment his arm was again round me. I clung to him as to a rock,for of a truth I had never felt a grasp so steady and withal so gentleand kindly, as was his around my shoulders. I tried to murmur words ofthanks, but again that wretched feeling of sickness and faintnessovercame me, and for a second or two it seemed to me as if I wereslipping into another world. The stranger's voice came to my ear, as itwere through cotton-wool.
"The man is starving," he said. "Shall we take him over to yourlodgings, Tony? They are safer than mine. He may be able to walk in aminute or two, if not I can carry him."
My senses at this partly returned to me, and I was able to protestfeebly:
"No, no! I must go back--I must--kind sirs," I murmured. "Mme. laMarquise will be getting so anxious."
No sooner were these foolish words out of my mouth than I could havebitten my tongue out for having uttered them; and yet, somehow, itseemed as if it was the stran
ger's magnetic personality, his magic voiceand kindly act towards me, who had so basely sold him to his enemies,which had drawn them out of me. He gave a low, prolonged whistle.
"Mme. la Marquise?" he queried, dropping his voice to a whisper.
Now to have uttered Mme. la Marquise de Mortaine's name here in Lyons,where every aristocrat was termed a traitor and sent without trial tothe guillotine, was in itself an act of criminal folly, and yet--you maybelieve me, monsieur, or not--there was something within me just at thatmoment that literally compelled me to open my heart out to thisstranger, whom I had so basely betrayed, and who requited my abominablecrime with such gentleness and mercy. Before I fully realised what I wasdoing, monsieur, I had blurted out the whole history of Mme. laMarquise's flight and of M. le Vicomte's sickness to him. He drew meunder the cover of an open doorway, and he and his friend listened to mewithout speaking a word until I had told them my pitiable tale to theend.
When I had finished he said quietly:
"Take me to see Mme. la Marquise, old friend. Who knows? perhaps I maybe able to help."
Then he turned to his friend.
"Will you wait for me at my lodgings, Tony," he said, "and let Ffoulkesand Hastings know that I may wish to speak with them on my return?"
He spoke like one who had been accustomed all his life to give command,and I marvelled how his friend immediately obeyed him. Then when thelatter had disappeared down the dark street, the stranger once moreturned to me.
"Lean on my arm, good old friend," he said, "and we must try and walk asquickly as we can. The sooner we allay the anxieties of Mme. la Marquisethe better."
I was still hugging the roast capon with one arm, with the other I clungto him as together we walked in the direction of the Rue des Pipots. Onthe way we halted at a respectable eating-house, where my protector gaveme some money wherewith to buy a bottle of good wine and sundryprovisions and delicacies which we carried home with us.
II
Never shall I forget the look of horror which came in Mme. la Marquise'seyes when she saw me entering our miserable attic in the company of astranger. The last of the little bit of tallow candle flickered in itssocket. Madame threw her emaciated arms over her child, just like somepoor hunted animal defending its young. I could almost hear the cry ofterror which died down in her throat ere it reached her lips. But then,monsieur, to see the light of hope gradually illuminating her pale, wanface as the stranger took her hand and spoke to her--oh! so gently andso kindly--was a sight which filled my poor, half-broken heart with joy.
"The little invalid must be seen by a doctor at once," he said, "afterthat only can we think of your ultimate safety."
Mme. la Marquise, who herself was terribly weak and ill, burst outcrying. "Would I not have taken him to a doctor ere now?" she murmuredthrough her tears. "But there is no doctor in Lyons. Those who have notbeen arrested as traitors have fled from this stricken city. And mylittle Jose is dying for want of medical care."
"Your pardon, madame," he rejoined gently, "one of the ablest doctors inFrance is at present in Lyons---"
"That infamous Laporte," she broke in, horrified. "He would snatch mysick child from my arms and throw him to the guillotine."
"He would save your boy from disease," said the stranger earnestly, "hisown professional pride or professional honour, whatever he might chooseto call it, would compel him to do that. But the moment the doctor'swork was done, that of the executioner would commence."
"You see, milor," moaned Madame in pitiable agony, "that there is nohope for us."
"Indeed there is," he replied. "We must get M. le Vicomte wellfirst--after that we shall see."
"But you are not proposing to bring that infamous Laporte to my child'sbedside!" she cried in horror.
"Would you have your child die here before your eyes," retorted thestranger, "as he undoubtedly will this night?"
This sounded horribly cruel, and the tone in which it was said wascommanding. There was no denying its truth. M. le Vicomte was dying. Icould see that. For a moment or two madame remained quite still, withher great eyes, circled with pain and sorrow, fixed upon the stranger.He returned her gaze steadily and kindly, and gradually that frozen lookof horror in her pale face gave place to one of deep puzzlement, andthrough her bloodless lips there came the words, faintly murmured: "Whoare you?"
He gave no direct reply, but from his little finger he detached a ringand held it out for her to see. I saw it too, for I was standing closeby Mme. la Marquise, and the flickering light of the tallow candle fellfull upon the ring. It was of gold, and upon it there was an exquisitelymodelled, five-petalled little flower in vivid red enamel.
Madame la Marquise looked at the ring, then once again up into his face.He nodded assent, and my heart seemed even then to stop its beating as Igazed upon his face. Had we not--all of us--heard of the gallant ScarletPimpernel? And did I not know--far better than Mme. la Marquiseherself--the full extent of his gallantry and his self-sacrifice? Thehue and cry was after him. Human bloodhounds were even now on his track,and he spoke calmly of walking out again in the streets of Lyons and ofaffronting that infamous Laporte, who would find glory in sending him todeath. I think he guessed what was passing in my mind, for he put afinger up to his lip and pointed significantly to M. le Vicomte.
But it was beautiful to see how completely Mme. la Marquise now trustedhim. At his bidding she even ate a little of the food and drank somewine--and I was forced to do likewise. And even when anon he declaredhis intention of fetching Laporte immediately, she did not flinch. Shekissed M. le Vicomte with passionate fervour, and then gave the strangerher solemn promise that the moment he returned she would take refuge inthe next room and never move out of it until after Laporte had departed.
When he went I followed him to the top of the stairs. I was speechlesswith gratitude and also with fears for him. But he took my hand andsaid, with that same quaint, somewhat inane laugh which was socharacteristic of him:
"Be of good cheer, old fellow! Those confounded murderers will not getme this time."
III
Less than half an hour later, monsieur, citizen Laporte, one of the mostskilful doctors in France and one of the most bloodthirsty tyrants thisexecrable Revolution has known, was sitting at the bedside of M. leVicomte de Mortaine, using all the skill, all the knowledge he possessedin order to combat the dread disease of which the child was dying, erehe came to save him--as he cynically remarked in my hearing--for theguillotine.
I heard afterwards how it all came about.
Laporte, it seems, was in the habit of seeing patients in his own houseevery evening after he had settled all his business for the day. What astrange contradiction in the human heart, eh, monsieur? The tiger turnedlamb for the space of one hour in every twenty-four--the butcher turnedhealer. How well the English milor had gauged the strange personality ofthat redoubtable man! Professional pride--interest in intricatecases--call it what you will--was the only redeeming feature inLaporte's abominable character. Everything else in him, every thought,every action was ignoble, cruel and vengeful.
Milor that night mingled with the crowd who waited on the human hyena tobe cured of their hurts. It was a motley crowd that filled the dreadedpro-consul's ante-chamber--men, women and children--all of them too muchpreoccupied with their own troubles to bestow more than a cursory glanceon the stranger who, wrapped in a dark mantle, quietly awaited his turn.One or two muttered curses were flung at the aristo, one or two spat inhis direction to express hatred and contempt, then the door which gaveon the inner chamber would be flung open--a number called--one patientwould walk out, another walk in--and in the ever-recurring incident thestranger for the nonce was forgotten.
His turn came--his number being called--it was the last on the list, andthe ante-chamber was now quite empty save for him. He walked into thepresence of the pro-consul. Claude Lemoine, who was on guard in the roomat the time, told me that just for the space of two seconds the two menlooked at one another. Then the
stranger threw back his head and saidquietly:
"There's a child dying of pleurisy, or worse, in an attic in the Rue desPipots. There's not a doctor left in Lyons to attend on him, and thechild will die for want of medical skill. Will you come to him, citizendoctor?"
It seems that for a moment or two Laporte hesitated.
"You look to me uncommonly like an aristo, and therefore a traitor," hesaid, "and I've half a mind--"
"To call your guard and order my immediate arrest," broke in milor witha whimsical smile, "but in that case a citizen of France will die forwant of a doctor's care. Let me take you to the child's bedside, citizendoctor, you can always have me arrested afterwards."
But Laporte still hesitated.
"How do I know that you are not one of those English spies?" he began.
"Take it that I am," rejoined milor imperturbably, "and come and see thepatient."
Never had a situation been carried off with so bold a hand. ClaudeLemoine declared that Laporte's mouth literally opened for the callwhich would have summoned the sergeant of the guard into the room andordered the summary arrest of this impudent stranger. During the veriestfraction of a second life and death hung in the balance for the gallantEnglish milor. In the heart of Laporte every evil passion fought the onenoble fibre within him. But the instinct of the skilful healer won thebattle, and the next moment he had hastily collected what medicamentsand appliances he might require, and the two men were soon speedingalong the streets in the direction of the Rue des Pipots.
* * * * *
During the whole of that night, milor and Laporte sat together by thebedside of M. le Vicomte. Laporte only went out once in order to fetchwhat further medicaments he required. Mme. la Marquise took theopportunity of running out of her hiding-place in order to catch aglimpse of her child. I saw her take milor's hand and press it againsther heart in silent gratitude. On her knees she begged him to go awayand leave her and the boy to their fate. Was it likely that he would go?But she was so insistent that at last he said:
"Madame, let me assure you that even if I were prepared to play thecoward's part which you would assign to me, it is not in my power to doso at this moment. Citizen Laporte came to this house under the escortof six picked men of his guard. He has left these men stationed on thelanding outside this door."
Madame la Marquise gave a cry of terror, and once more that patheticlook of horror came into her face. Milor took her hand and then pointedto the sick child.
"Madame," he said, "M. le Vicomte is already slightly better. Thanks tomedical skill and a child's vigorous hold on life, he will live. Therest is in the hands of God."
Already the heavy footsteps of Laporte were heard upon the creakingstairs. Mme. la Marquise was forced to return to her hiding-place.
Soon after dawn he went. M. le Vicomte was then visibly easier. Laportehad all along paid no heed to me, but I noticed that once or twiceduring his long vigil by the sick-bed his dark eyes beneath theiroverhanging brows shot a quick suspicious look at the door behind whichcowered Mme. la Marquise. I had absolutely no doubt in my mind then thathe knew quite well who his patient was.
He gave certain directions to milor--there were certain freshmedicaments to be got during the day. While he spoke there was asinister glint in his eyes--half cynical, wholly menacing--as he lookedup into the calm, impassive face of milor.
"It is essential for the welfare of the patient that these medicamentsbe got for him during the day," he said dryly, "and the guard haveorders to allow you to pass in and out. But you need have no fear," headded significantly, "I will leave an escort outside the house toaccompany you on your way."
He gave a mocking, cruel laugh, the meaning of which was unmistakable.His well-drilled human bloodhounds would be on the track of the Englishspy, whenever the latter dared to venture out into the streets.
Mme. la Marquise and I were prisoners for the day. We spent it inwatching alternately beside M. le Vicomte. But milor came and went asfreely as if he had not been carrying his precious life in his handsevery time that he ventured outside the house.
In the evening Laporte returned to see his patient, and again thefollowing morning, and the next evening. M. le Vicomte was making rapidprogress towards recovery.
The third day in the morning Laporte pronounced his patient to be out ofdanger, but said that he would nevertheless come again to see him at theusual hour in the evening. Directly he had gone, milor went out in orderto bring in certain delicacies of which the invalid was now allowed topartake. I persuaded Madame to lie down and have a couple of hours' goodsleep in the inner attic, while I stayed to watch over the child.
To my horror, hardly had I taken up my stand at the foot of the bed whenLaporte returned; he muttered something as he entered about having leftsome important appliance behind, but I was quite convinced that he hadbeen on the watch until milor was out of sight, and then slipped back inorder to find me and Madame here alone.
He gave a glance at the child and another at the door of the innerattic, then he said in a loud voice:
"Yes, another twenty-four hours and my duties as doctor will cease andthose of patriot will re-commence. But Mme. la Marquise de Mortaine needno longer be in any anxiety about her son's health, nor will Mme. laGuillotine be cheated of a pack of rebels."
He laughed, and was on the point of turning on his heel when the doorwhich gave on the smaller attic was opened and Mme. la Marquise appearedupon the threshold.
Monsieur, I had never seen her look more beautiful than she did now inher overwhelming grief. Her face was as pale as death, her eyes, largeand dilated, were fixed upon the human monster who had found it in hisheart to speak such cruel words. Clad in a miserable, threadbare gown,her rich brown hair brought to the top of her head like a crown, shelooked more regal than any queen.
But proud as she was, monsieur, she yet knelt at the feet of thatwretch. Yes, knelt, and embraced his knees and pleaded in such pitiableaccents as would have melted the heart of a stone. She pleaded,monsieur--ah, not for herself. She pleaded for her child and for me, herfaithful servant, and she pleaded for the gallant gentleman who hadrisked his life for the sake of the child, who was nothing to him.
"Take me!" she said. "I come of a race that have always known how todie! But what harm has that innocent child done in this world? What harmhas poor old Jean-Pierre done, and, oh ... is the world so full of braveand noble men that the bravest of them all be so unjustly sent todeath?"
Ah, monsieur, any man, save one of those abject products of that hideousRevolution, would have listened to such heartrending accents. But thisman only laughed and turned on his heel without a word.
* * * * *
Shall I ever forget the day that went by? Mme. la Marquise was well-nighprostrate with terror, and it was heartrending to watch the nobleefforts which she made to amuse M. le Vicomte. The only gleams ofsunshine which came to us out of our darkness were the brief appearancesof milor. Outside we could hear the measured tramp of the guard that hadbeen set there to keep us close prisoners. They were relieved every sixhours, and, in fact, we were as much under arrest as if we were alreadyincarcerated in one of the prisons of Lyons.
At about four o'clock in the afternoon milor came back to us after abrief absence. He stayed for a little while playing with M. le Vicomte.Just before leaving he took Madame's hand in his and said veryearnestly, and sinking his voice to the merest whisper:
"To-night! Fear nothing! Be ready for anything! Remember that the Leagueof the Scarlet Pimpernel have never failed to succour, and that I herebypledge you mine honour that you and those you care for will be out ofLyons this night."
He was gone, leaving us to marvel at his strange words. Mme. la Marquiseafter that was just like a person in a dream. She hardly spoke to me,and the only sound that passed her lips was a quaint little lullabywhich she sang to M. le Vicomte ere he dropped off to sleep.
The hours went by leaden-footed. At every
sound on the stairs Madamestarted like a frightened bird. That infamous Laporte usually paid hisvisits at about eight o'clock in the evening, and after it became quitedark, Madame sat at the tiny window, and I felt that she was countingthe minutes which still lay between her and the dreaded presence of thatawful man.
At a quarter before eight o'clock we heard the usual heavy footfall onthe stairs. Madame started up as if she had been struck. She ran to thebed--almost like one demented, and wrapping the one poor blanket roundM. le Vicomte, she seized him in her arms. Outside we could hearLaporte's raucous voice speaking to the guard. His usual query: "Is allwell?" was answered by the brief: "All well, citizen." Then he asked ifthe English spy were within, and the sentinel replied: "No, citizen, hewent out at about five o'clock and has not come back since."
"Not come back since five o'clock?" said Laporte with a loud curse."Pardi! I trust that that fool Caudy has not allowed him to escape."
"I saw Caudy about an hour ago, citizen," said the man.
"Did he say anything about the Englishman then?"
It seemed to us, who were listening to this conversation with batedbreath, that the man hesitated a moment ere he replied; then he spokewith obvious nervousness.
"As a matter of fact, citizen," he said, "Caudy thought then that theEnglishman was inside the house, whilst I was equally sure that I hadseen him go downstairs an hour before."
"A thousand devils!" cried Laporte with a savage oath, "if I find thatyou, citizen sergeant, or Caudy have blundered there will be trouble foryou."
To the accompaniment of a great deal more swearing he suddenly kickedopen the door of our attic with his boot, and then came to a standstillon the threshold with his hands in the pockets of his breeches and hislegs planted wide apart, face to face with Mme. la Marquise, whoconfronted him now, herself like a veritable tigress who is defendingher young.
He gave a loud, mocking laugh.
"Ah, the aristos!" he cried, "waiting for that cursed Englishman, what?to drag you and your brat out of the claws of the human tiger.... Notso, my fine ci-devant Marquise. The brat is no longer sick--he is wellenough, anyhow, to breathe the air of the prisons of Lyons for a fewdays pending a final rest in the arms of Mme. la Guillotine. Citizensergeant," he called over his shoulder, "escort these aristos to mycarriage downstairs. When the Englishman returns, tell him he will findhis friends under the tender care of Doctor Laporte. En avant, littlemother," he added, as he gripped Mme. la Marquise tightly by the arm,"and you, old scarecrow," he concluded, speaking to me over hisshoulder, "follow the citizen sergeant, or----"
Mme. la Marquise made no resistance. As I told you, she had been, sincedusk, like a person in a dream; so what could I do but follow her nobleexample? Indeed, I was too dazed to do otherwise.
We all went stumbling down the dark, rickety staircase, Laporte leadingthe way with Mme. la Marquise, who had M. le Vicomte tightly clasped inher arms. I followed with the sergeant, whose hand was on my shoulder; Ibelieve that two soldiers walked behind, but of that I cannot be sure.
At the bottom of the stairs through the open door of the house I caughtsight of the vague outline of a large barouche, the lanthorns of whichthrew a feeble light upon the cruppers of two horses and of a couple ofmen sitting on the box.
Mme. la Marquise stepped quietly into the carriage. Laporte followedher, and I was bundled in in his wake by the rough hands of thesoldiery. Just before the order was given to start, Laporte put his headout of the window and shouted to the sergeant:
"When you see Caudy tell him to report himself to me at once. I will beback here in half an hour; keep strict guard as before until then,citizen sergeant."
The next moment the coachman cracked his whip, Laporte called loudly,"En avant!" and the heavy barouche went rattling along the ill-pavedstreets.
Inside the carriage all was silence. I could hear Mme. la Marquisesoftly whispering to M. le Vicomte, and I marvelled how wondrouslycalm--nay, cheerful, she could be. Then suddenly I heard a sound whichof a truth did make my heart stop its beating. It was a quaint andprolonged laugh which I once thought I would never hear again on thisearth. It came from the corner of the barouche next to where Mme. laMarquise was so tenderly and gaily crooning to her child. And a kindlyvoice said merrily:
"In half an hour we shall be outside Lyons. To-morrow we'll be acrossthe Swiss frontier. We've cheated that old tiger after all. What sayyou, Mme. la Marquise?"
It was milor's voice, and he was as merry as a school-boy.
"I told you, old Jean-Pierre," he added, as he placed that firm handwhich I loved so well upon my knee, "I told you that those confoundedmurderers would not get me this time."
And to think that I did not know him, as he stood less than a quarter ofan hour ago upon the threshold of our attic in the hideous guise of thatabominable Laporte. He had spent two days in collecting old clothes thatresembled those of that infamous wretch, and in taking possession of oneof the derelict rooms in the house in the Rue des Pipots. Then while wewere expecting every moment that Laporte would order our arrest, milorassumed the personality of the monster, hoodwinked the sergeant on thedark staircase, and by that wonderfully audacious coup saved Mme. laMarquise, M. le Vicomte and my humble self from the guillotine.
Money, of which he had plenty, secured us immunity on the way, and wewere in safety over the Swiss frontier, leaving Laporte to eat out histigerish heart with baffled rage.
The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel Page 6