III
At last Carrier elected to speak.
"And now, citizen Chauvelin," he said, "we know how we stand. We know that the English assassins are in Nantes. The question is how are we going to lay them by the heels."
Chauvelin gave him no direct reply. He was busy collecting his precious papers together and thrusting them back into the pocket of his coat. Then he said quietly:
"It is through the Kernogan woman that we can get hold of him."
"How?"
"Where she is, there will the Englishmen be. They are in Nantes for the sole purpose of getting the woman and her father out of your clutches...."
"Then it will be a fine haul inside the Rat Mort," ejaculated Carrier with a chuckle. "Eh, Jacques, you young scamp? You and I must go and see that, what? You have been complaining that life was getting monotonous. Drownages—Republican marriages! They have all palled in their turn on your jaded appetite.... But the capture of the English assassins, eh?... of that League of the Scarlet Pimpernel which has even caused citizen Robespierre much uneasiness—that will stir up your sluggish blood, you lazy young vermin!... Go on, go on, citizen Chauvelin, I am vastly interested!"
He rubbed his dry, bony hands together and cackled with glee. Chauvelin interposed quietly:
"Inside the Rat Mort, eh, citizen?" he queried.
"Why, yes. Citizen Martin-Roget means to convey the Kernogan woman to the Rat Mort, doesn't he?"
"He does."
"And you say that where the Kernogan woman is there the Englishmen will be...."
"The inference is obvious."
"Which means ten thousand francs from that fool Martin-Roget for having the wench and her father arrested inside the Rat Mort! and twenty thousand for the capture of the English spies.... Have you forgotten, citizen Chauvelin," he added with a raucous cry of triumph, "that commandant Fleury has my orders to make a raid on the Rat Mort this night with half a company of my Marats, and to arrest every one whom they find inside?"
"The Kernogan wench is not at the Rat Mort yet," quoth Chauvelin drily, "and you have refused to lend a hand in having her conveyed thither."
"I can't do it, my little Chauvelin," rejoined Carrier, somewhat sobered by this reminder. "I can't do it ... you understand ... my Marats taking an aristo to a house of ill-fame where presently I have her arrested ... it won't do ... it won't do ... you don't know how I am spied upon just now.... It really would not do.... I can't be mixed up in that part of the affair. The wench must go to the Rat Mort of her own free will, or the whole plan falls to the ground.... That fool Martin-Roget must think of a way ... it's his affair, after all. He must see to it.... Or you can think of a way," he added, assuming the coaxing ways of a tiger-cat; "you are so clever, my little Chauvelin."
"Yes," replied Chauvelin quietly, "I can think of a way. The Kernogan wench shall leave the house of citizeness Adet and walk into the tavern of the Rat Mort of her own free will. Your reputation, citizen Carrier," he added without the slightest apparent trace of a sneer, "your reputation shall be safeguarded in this matter. But supposing that in the interval of going from the one house to the other the English adventurer succeeds in kidnapping her...."
"Pah! is that likely?" quoth Carrier with a shrug of the shoulders.
"Exceedingly likely, citizen; and you would not doubt it if you knew this Scarlet Pimpernel as I do. I have seen him at his nefarious work. I know what he can do. There is nothing that he would not venture ... there are few ventures in which he does not succeed. He is as strong as an ox, as agile as a cat. He can see in the dark and he can always vanish in a crowd. Here, there and everywhere, you never know where he will appear. He is a past master in the art of disguise and he is a born mountebank. Believe me, citizen, we shall want all the resources of our joint intellects to frustrate the machinations of such a foe."
Carrier mused for a moment in silence.
"H'm!" he said after awhile, and with a sardonic laugh. "You may be right, citizen Chauvelin. You have had experience with the rascal ... you ought to know him. We won't leave anything to chance—don't be afraid of that. My Marats will be keen on the capture. We'll promise commandant Fleury a thousand francs for himself and another thousand to be distributed among his men if we lay hands on the English assassins to-night. We'll leave nothing to chance," he reiterated with an oath.
"In which case, citizen Carrier, you must on your side agree to two things," rejoined Chauvelin firmly.
"What are they?"
"You must order Commandant Fleury to place himself and half a company of his Marats at my disposal."
"What else?"
"You must allow them to lend a hand if there is an attempt to kidnap the Kernogan wench while she is being conveyed to the Rat Mort...."
Carrier hesitated for a second or two, but only for form's sake: it was his nature whenever he was forced to yield to do so grudgingly.
"Very well!" he said at last. "I'll order Fleury to be on the watch and to interfere if there is any street-brawling outside or near the Rat Mort. Will that suit you?"
"Perfectly. I shall be on the watch too—somewhere close by.... I'll warn commandant Fleury if I suspect that the English are making ready for a coup outside the tavern. Personally I think it unlikely—because the duc de Kernogan will be inside the Rat Mort all the time, and he too will be the object of the Englishmen's attacks on his behalf. Citizen Martin-Roget too has about a score or so of his friends posted outside his sister's house: they are lads from his village who hate the Kernogans as much as he does himself. Still! I shall feel easier in my mind now that I am certain of commandant Fleury's co-operation."
"Then it seems to me that we have arranged everything satisfactorily, what?"
"Everything, except the exact moment when Commandant Fleury shall advance with his men to the door of the tavern and demand admittance in the name of the Republic."
"Yes, he will have to make quite sure that the whole of our quarry is inside the net, eh?... before he draws the strings ... or all our pretty plans fall to nought."
"As you say," rejoined Chauvelin, "we must make sure. Supposing therefore that we get the wench safely into the tavern, that we have her there with her father, what we shall want will be some one in observation—some one who can help us to draw our birds into the snare just when we are ready for them. Now there is a man whom I have in my mind: he hath name Paul Friche and is one of your Marats—a surly, ill-conditioned giant ... he was on guard outside Le Bouffay this afternoon.... I spoke to him ... he would suit our purpose admirably."
"What do you want him to do?"
"Only to make himself look as like a Nantese cut-throat as he can...."
"He looks like one already," broke in Jacques Lalouët with a laugh.
"So much the better. He'll excite no suspicion in that case in the minds of the frequenters of the Rat Mort. Then I'll instruct him to start a brawl—a fracas—soon after the arrival of the Kernogan wench. The row will inevitably draw the English adventurers hot-haste to the spot, either in the hope of getting the Kernogans away during the mêlée or with a view to protecting them. As soon as they have appeared upon the scene, the half company of the Marats will descend on the house and arrest every one inside it."
"It all sounds remarkably simple," rejoined Carrier, and with a leer of satisfaction he turned to Jacques Lalouët.
"What think you of it, citizen?" he asked.
"That it sounds so remarkably simple," replied young Lalouët, "that personally I should be half afraid...."
"Of what?" queried Chauvelin blandly.
"If you fail, citizen Chauvelin...."
"Impossible!"
"If the Englishmen do not appear?"
"Even so the citizen proconsul will have lost nothing. He will merely have failed to gain the twenty thousand francs. But the Kernogans will still be in his power and citizen Martin-Roget's ten thousand francs are in any case assured."
"Friend Jean-Baptiste," concluded Lalouët with his habitual insolent familiarity, "you had better do what citizen Chauvelin wants. Ten thousand francs are good ... and thirty better still. Our privy purse has been empty far too long, and I for one would like the handling of a few brisk notes."
"It will only be twenty-eight, citizen Lalouët," interposed Chauvelin blandly, "for commandant Fleury will want one thousand francs and his men another thousand to stimulate their zeal. Still! I imagine that these hard times twenty-eight thousand francs are worth fighting for."
"You seem to be fighting and planning and scheming for nothing, citizen Chauvelin," retorted young Lalouët with a sneer. "What are you going to gain, I should like to know, by the capture of that dare-devil Englishman?"
"Oh!" replied Chauvelin suavely, "I shall gain the citizen proconsul's regard, I hope—and yours too, citizen Lalouët. I want nothing more except the success of my plan."
Young Lalouët jumped down to his feet. He shrugged his shoulders and through his fine eyes shot a glance of mockery and scorn on the thin, shrunken figure of the Terrorist.
"How you do hate that Englishman, citizen Chauvelin," he said with a light laugh.