CHAPTER XIII
Tangled meshes.
Juliette waited a moment or two, until the footsteps of the six men diedaway up the massive oak stairs.
For the first time, since the sword of Damocles had fallen, she wasalone with her thoughts.
She had but a few moments at her command in which to devise an issue outof these tangled meshes, which she had woven round the man she loved.
Merlin and his men would return anon. The comedy could not be kept upthrough another visit from them, and while the compromising letter-caseremained in Deroulede's private study he was in imminent danger at thehands of his enemy.
She thought for a moment of concealing the case about her person, but asecond's reflection showed her the futility of such a move. She had notseen the papers themselves; any one of them might be an absolute proofof Deroulede's guilt; the correspondence might be in his handwriting.
If Merlin, furious, baffled, vicious, were to order her to be searched!The horror of the indignity made her shudder, but she would havesubmitted to that, if thereby she could have saved Deroulede. But ofthis she could not be sure until after she had looked through thepapers, and this she had not the time to do.
Her first and greatest idea was to get out of this room, his privatestudy, with the compromising papers. Not a trace of them must be foundhere, if he were to remain beyond suspicion.
She rose from the sofa, and peeped through the door. The hall was nowdeserted; from the left wing of the house, on the floor above, the heavyfootsteps of the soldiers and Merlin's occasional brutish laugh could bedistinctly heard.
Juliette listened for a moment, trying to understand what was happening.Yes; they had all gone to Deroulede's bedroom, which was on the extremeleft, at the end of the first-floor landing. There might be just time toaccomplish what she had now resolved to do.
As best she could, she hid the bulky leather case in the folds of herskirt. It was literally neck or nothing now. If she were caught on thestairs by one of the men nothing could save her or--possibly--Deroulede.
At any rate, by remaining where she was, by leaving the events to shapethemselves, discovery was absolutely certain. She chose to take therisk.
She slipped noiselessly out of the room and up the great oak stairs.Merlin and his men, busy with their search in Deroulede's bedroom, tookno heed of what was going on behind them; Juliette arrived on thelanding, and turned sharply to her right, running noiselessly along thethick Aubusson carpet, and thence quickly to her own room.
All this had taken less than a minute to accomplish. The very nextmoment she heard Merlin's voice ordering one of his men to stand atattention on the landing, but by that time she was safe inside her room.She closed the door noiselessly.
Petronelle, who had been busy all the afternoon packing up her youngmistress' things, had fallen asleep in an arm-chair. Unconscious of theterrible events which were rapidly succeeding each other in the house,the worthy old soul was snoring peaceably, with her hands complacentlyfolded on her ample bosom.
Juliette, for the moment, took no notice of her. As quickly and asdexterously as she could, she was tearing open the heavy leather casewith a sharp pair of scissors, and very soon its contents were scatteredbefore her on the table.
One glance at them was sufficient to convince her that most of thepapers would undoubtedly, if found, send Deroulede to the guillotine.Most of the correspondence was in the Citizen-Deputy's handwriting. Shehad, of course, no time to examine it more closely, but instinctnaturally told her that it was of a highly compromising character.
She gathered the papers up into a heap, tearing some of them up intostrips; then she spread them out upon the ash-pan in front of the largeearthenware stove, which stood in a corner of the room.
Unfortunately, this was a hot day in August. Her task would have beenfar easier if she had wished to destroy a bundle of papers in the depthof winter, when there was a good fire burning in the stove.
But her purpose was firm and her incentive, the greatest that has everspurred mankind to heroism.
Regardless of any consequences to herself, she had but the one object inview, to save Deroulede at all costs.
On the wall facing her bed, and immediately above a velvet-coveredprie-dieu, there was a small figure of the Virgin and Child--one ofthose quaintly pretty devices for holding holy water, which the reverentsuperstition of the past century rendered a necessary adjunct of everygirl's room.
In front of the figure a small lamp was kept perpetually burning. ThisJuliette now took between her fingers, carefully, lest the tiny flameshould die out. First she poured the oil over the fragments of paper inthe ash-pan, then with the wick she set fire to the whole compromisingcorrespondence.
The oil helped the paper to burn quickly; the smell, or perhaps thepresence of Juliette in the room caused worthy old Petronelle to wake.
"It's nothing, Petronelle," said Juliette quietly; "only a few oldletters I am burning. But I want to be alone for a few moments--will yougo down to the kitchen until I call you?"
Accustomed to do as her young mistress commanded, Petronelle rosewithout a word.
"I have finished putting away your few things, my jewel. There, there!why didn't you tell me to burn your papers for you? You have soiled yourdear hands, and ..."
"Sh! Sh! Petronelle!" said Juliette impatiently, and gently pushing thegarrulous old woman towards the door. "Run to the kitchen now quickly,and don't come out of it until I call you. And, Petronelle," she added,"you will see soldiers about the house perhaps."
"Soldiers! The good God have mercy!"
"Don't be frightened, Petronelle. But they may ask you questions."
"Questions?"
"Yes; about me."
"My treasure, my jewel," exclaimed Petronelle in alarm, "have thosedevils ...?"
"No, no; nothing has happened as yet, but, you know, in these timesthere is always danger."
"Good God! Holy Mary! Mother of God!"
"Nothing 'll happen if you try to keep quite calm and do exactly as Itell you. Go to the kitchen, and wait there until I call you. If thesoldiers come in and question you, if they try to frighten you, rememberthat we have nothing to fear from men, and that our lives are in God'skeeping."
All the while that Juliette spoke, she was watching the heap of paperbeing gradually reduced to ashes. She tried to fan the flames as bestshe could, but some of the correspondence was on tough paper, and wasslow in being consumed. Petronelle, tearful but obedient, prepared toleave the room. She was overawed by her mistress' air of aloofness, thepale face rendered ethereally beautiful by the sufferings she had gonethrough. The eyes glowed large and magnetic, as if in presence ofspiritual visions beyond mortal ken; the golden hair looked like asaintly halo above the white, immaculate young brow.
Petronelle made the sign of the cross, as if she were in the presence ofa saint.
As she opened the door there was a sudden draught, and the lastflickering flame died out in the ash-pan. Juliette, seeing thatPetronelle had gone, hastily turned over the few half burnt fragments ofpaper that were left. In none of them had the writing remained legible.All that was compromising to Deroulede was effectually reduced to dust.The small wick in the lamp at the foot of the Virgin and Child hadburned itself out for want of oil; there was no means for Juliette tostrike another light and to destroy what remained. The leather case was,of course, still there, with its sides ripped open, an indestructiblething.
There was nothing to be done about that. Juliette after a second'shesitation threw it among her dresses in the valise.
Then she too went out of the room.
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