CHAPTER XIX. IT IS ABOUT THE DAUPHIN

  Heron was not at his lodgings when, at last, after vigorous pulls atthe bell, a great deal of waiting and much cursing, Chauvelin, closelyfollowed by Armand, was introduced in the chief agent's office.

  The soldier who acted as servant said that citizen Heron had gone outto sup, but would surely be home again by eight o'clock. Armand by thistime was so dazed with fatigue that he sank on a chair like a log, andremained there staring into the fire, unconscious of the flight of time.

  Anon Heron came home. He nodded to Chauvelin, and threw but a cursoryglance on Armand.

  "Five minutes, citizen," he said, with a rough attempt at an apology. "Iam sorry to keep you waiting, but the new commissaries have arrived whoare to take charge of Capet. The Simons have just gone, and I want toassure myself that everything is all right in the Tower. Cocheferhas been in charge, but I like to cast an eye over the brat every daymyself."

  He went out again, slamming the door behind him. His heavy footstepswere heard treading the flagstones of the corridor, and gradually dyingaway in the distance. Armand had paid no heed either to his entrance orto his exit. He was only conscious of an intense weariness, and would atthis moment gladly have laid his head on the scaffold if on it he couldfind rest.

  A white-faced clock on the wall ticked off the seconds one by one. Fromthe street below came the muffled sounds of wheeled traffic on the softmud of the road; it was raining more heavily now, and from time to timea gust of wind rattled the small windows in their dilapidated frames, orhurled a shower of heavy drops against the panes.

  The heat from the stove had made Armand drowsy; his head fell forwardon his chest. Chauvelin, with his hands held behind his back, pacedceaselessly up and down the narrow room.

  Suddenly Armand started--wide awake now. Hurried footsteps on theflagstones outside, a hoarse shout, a banging of heavy doors, and thenext moment Heron stood once more on the threshold of the room. Armand,with wide-opened eyes, gazed on him in wonder. The whole appearance ofthe man had changed. He looked ten years older, with lank, dishevelledhair hanging matted over a moist forehead, the cheeks ashen-white, thefull lips bloodless and hanging, flabby and parted, displaying both rowsof yellow teeth that shook against each other. The whole figure lookedbowed, as if shrunk within itself.

  Chauvelin had paused in his restless walk. He gazed on his colleague, afrown of puzzlement on his pale, set face.

  "Capet!" he exclaimed, as soon as he had taken in every detail ofHeron's altered appearance, and seen the look of wild terror thatliterally distorted his face.

  Heron could not speak; his teeth were chattering in his mouth, and histongue seemed paralysed. Chauvelin went up to him. He was several inchesshorter than his colleague, but at this moment he seemed to be toweringover him like an avenging spirit. He placed a firm hand on the other'sbowed shoulders.

  "Capet has gone--is that it?" he queried peremptorily.

  The look of terror increased in Heron's eyes, giving its mute reply.

  "How? When?"

  But for the moment the man was speechless. An almost maniacal fearseemed to hold him in its grip. With an impatient oath Chauvelin turnedaway from him.

  "Brandy!" he said curtly, speaking to Armand.

  A bottle and glass were found in the cupboard. It was St. Just whopoured out the brandy and held it to Heron's lips. Chauvelin was oncemore pacing up and down the room in angry impatience.

  "Pull yourself together, man," he said roughly after a while, "and tryand tell me what has occurred."

  Heron had sunk into a chair. He passed a trembling hand once or twiceover his forehead.

  "Capet has disappeared," he murmured; "he must have been spirited awaywhile the Simons were moving their furniture. That accursed Cochefer wascompletely taken in."

  Heron spoke in a toneless voice, hardly above a whisper, and like onewhose throat is dry and mouth parched. But the brandy had revived himsomewhat, and his eyes lost their former glassy look.

  "How?" asked Chauvelin curtly.

  "I was just leaving the Tower when he arrived. I spoke to him at thedoor. I had seen Capet safely installed in the room, and gave ordersto the woman Simon to let citizen Cochefer have a look at him, too, andthen to lock up the brat in the inner room and install Cochefer in theantechamber on guard. I stood talking to Cochefer for a few moments inthe antechamber. The woman Simon and the man-of-all-work, Dupont--whomI know well--were busy with the furniture. There could not have been anyone else concealed about the place--that I'll swear. Cochefer, after hetook leave of me, went straight into the room; he found the woman Simonin the act of turning the key in the door of the inner chamber. I havelocked Capet in there,' she said, giving the key to Cochefer; 'he willbe quite safe until to-night; when the other commissaries come.'

  "Didn't Cochefer go into the room and ascertain whether the woman waslying?"

  "Yes, he did! He made the woman re-open the door and peeped in over hershoulder. She said the child was asleep. He vows that he saw the childlying fully dressed on a rug in the further corner of the room. Theroom, of course, was quite empty of furniture and only lighted by onecandle, but there was the rug and the child asleep on it. Cocheferswears he saw him, and now--when I went up--"

  "Well?"

  "The commissaries were all there--Cochefer and Lasniere, Lorinet andLegrand. We went into the inner room, and I had a candle in my hand. Wesaw the child lying on the rug, just as Cochefer had seen him, and fora while we took no notice of it. Then some one--I think it wasLorinet--went to have a closer look at the brat. He took up the candleand went up to the rug. Then he gave a cry, and we all gathered roundhim. The sleeping child was only a bundle of hair and of clothes, adummy--what?"

  There was silence now in the narrow room, while the white-faced clockcontinued to tick off each succeeding second of time. Heron had oncemore buried his head in his hands; a trembling--like an attack ofague--shook his wide, bony shoulders. Armand had listened to thenarrative with glowing eyes and a beating heart. The details which thetwo Terrorists here could not probably understand he had already addedto the picture which his mind had conjured up.

  He was back in thought now in the small lodging in the rear of St.Germain l'Auxerrois; Sir Andrew Ffoulkes was there, and my Lord Tony andHastings, and a man was striding up and down the room, looking out intothe great space beyond the river with the eyes of a seer, and a firmvoice said abruptly:

  "It is about the Dauphin!"

  "Have you any suspicions?" asked Chauvelin now, pausing in his walkbeside Heron, and once more placing a firm, peremptory hand on hiscolleague's shoulder.

  "Suspicions!" exclaimed the chief agent with a loud oath. "Suspicions!Certainties, you mean. The man sat here but two days ago, in that verychair, and bragged of what he would do. I told him then that if heinterfered with Capet I would wring his neck with my own hands."

  And his long, talon-like fingers, with their sharp, grimy nails, closedand unclosed like those of feline creatures when they hold the covetedprey.

  "Of whom do you speak?" queried Chauvelin curtly.

  "Of whom? Of whom but that accursed de Batz? His pockets are bulgingwith Austrian money, with which, no doubt, he has bribed the Simons andCochefer and the sentinels--"

  "And Lorinet and Lasniere and you," interposed Chauvelin dryly.

  "It is false!" roared Heron, who already at the suggestion was foamingat the mouth, and had jumped up from his chair, standing at bay as ifprepared to fight for his life.

  "False, is it?" retorted Chauvelin calmly; "then be not so quick, friendHeron, in slashing out with senseless denunciations right and left.You'll gain nothing by denouncing any one just now. This is toointricate a matter to be dealt with a sledge-hammer. Is any one up inthe Tower at this moment?" he asked in quiet, business-like tones.

  "Yes. Cochefer and the others are still there. They are making wildschemes to cover their treachery. Cochefer is aware of his own danger,and Lasniere and the others know that they arrived
at the Tower severalhours too late. They are all at fault, and they know it. As for that deBatz," he continued with a voice rendered raucous with bitter passion,"I swore to him two days ago that he should not escape me if he meddledwith Capet. I'm on his track already. I'll have him before the hourof midnight, and I'll torture him--yes! I'll torture him--the Tribunalshall give me leave. We have a dark cell down below here where my menknow how to apply tortures worse than the rack--where they know just howto prolong life long enough to make it unendurable. I'll torture him!I'll torture him!"

  But Chauvelin abruptly silenced the wretch with a curt command; then,without another word, he walked straight out of the room.

  In thought Armand followed him. The wild desire was suddenly born in himto run away at this moment, while Heron, wrapped in his own meditations,was paying no heed to him. Chauvelin's footsteps had long ago died awayin the distance; it was a long way to the upper floor of the Tower, andsome time would be spent, too, in interrogating the commissaries. Thiswas Armand's opportunity. After all, if he were free himself he mightmore effectually help to rescue Jeanne. He knew, too, now where to joinhis leader. The corner of the street by the canal, where Sir AndrewFfoulkes would be waiting with the coal-cart; then there was the spinneyon the road to St. Germain. Armand hoped that, with good luck, he mightyet overtake his comrades, tell them of Jeanne's plight, and entreatthem to work for her rescue.

  He had forgotten that now he had no certificate of safety, thatundoubtedly he would be stopped at the gates at this hour of thenight; that his conduct proving suspect he would in all probability hedetained, and, mayhap, be brought back to this self-same place within anhour. He had forgotten all that, for the primeval instinct for freedomhad suddenly been aroused. He rose softly from his chair and crossedthe room. Heron paid no attention to him. Now he had traversed theantechamber and unlatched the outer door.

  Immediately a couple of bayonets were crossed in front of him, two morefurther on ahead scintillated feebly in the flickering light. Chauvelinhad taken his precautions. There was no doubt that Armand St. Just waseffectually a prisoner now.

  With a sigh of disappointment he went back to his place beside thefire. Heron had not even moved whilst he had made this futile attempt atescape. Five minutes later Chauvelin re-entered the room.