LYING IN WAIT
Opposite the Dover wharf was an inn bearing the sign: The Red Fish. The frequenters of this inn were usually sailors, wharf-hands, etc.... Sometimes passengers from a recently arrived vessel stayed over a short while for the purpose of recovering from seasickness. At eleven in the forenoon of a day following soon after that described at the close of Book II, Kate, niece of the proprietor, displayed her rounded arms to the admiring eyes of the guests seated in the dingy dining hall, as she deposited on the tables bottles of beer and dishes of smoked salmon stewed with potatoes. One of the young men was so absorbed in gazing through a window out toward the wharf that he scarcely knew what he ate. He seemed waiting for some one and in so doing attracted the attention of two others seated in an obscure corner of the apartment, one of whom was apparently of some thirty years of age, of contracted lips, keen eyes and a nervous attitude. His general make-up was that of a man who vibrates to the suggestions of an idea. He scarcely ate and his glass of ale stood untasted. His companion had a very good appetite—a handsome young man somewhat coarse in type, of splendid proportions, ruddy cheeks, black whiskers, gleaming teeth and gay alert eyes full of directness and candor.
The two men conversed in low tones. The younger always interrupted the talk on the approach of Kate, for the purpose of making sweet speeches in her ear.
"Indeed I recognize him," declared the elder. "I have seen him in Paris and his title is Marquis de Brezé. His family is ultramonarchical and its loyalty has been paid in gold, for its confiscated property has been restored."
"I wonder why he is here."
"I cannot guess, Giacinto. Men in our position must always expect the worst. Many Frenchmen, await their vessels in this inn, but the Marquis's attitude arouses suspicion. He awaits some one. The fact that he comes from There should put us on our guard."
"Bah!" exclaimed Giacinto, with a flash of his perfect teeth, "'tis some piece of gallantry—a question of petticoats."
"Or of politics. We must not lose sight of him, for holding on to the end of a thread sometimes leads to a bobbin. This inn, in which our Volpetti is in the habit of stopping, is so suspicious a place that even the air is infected. If the Marquis awaits a lady, luck to him! But if not—"
"I swear 'tis love," asserted Giacinto, failing to comprehend the other's indifference to the romantic.
"Well, now let us get to business. If our brother knights have correctly informed us, Volpetti will reach the inn today. Are you sure you will recognize him? You know the fox is clever in disguises."
"Do you think he can escape me?" cried Giacinto, his face distorted with a spasm of hatred. "Not even if he comes as the devil, his brother. Why we are both Sicilians from Catania. I remember him when he walked barefoot recruiting victims for the gambling houses. Later on he entered the novitiate of a monastery. Then, I witnessed his initiation as spy—under the direction—well in reality, in the employ of Queen Caroline. O he is an adept, a born spy and happy only when exercising his profession. He was Fouché's most dangerous agent and now performs the same office to Lecazes. But to every man his hour! There are many accounts pending between Volpetti and me! First, my brother Raphael's long imprisonment; secondly, the ill treatment of Grazia, that unfortunate girl; thirdly, the splendid Romeldi's death on the gibbet; fourthly, the conspiracy of the 19th of August. Why has this mission been assigned me? Because the Knights know well that Volpetti will not escape me."
"Contain yourself" said the other. "To accomplish your purpose, calmness is essential."
"Fear nothing," answered Giacinto, "I shall seem ice."
"Does Volpetti know you by sight?"
"As well as he does his own shirt, and his claws must have fastened into me at Trieste, if the Knights had not protected me. Set a thief to catch a thief. But here in England he and I are man to man."
"Even in England spies are aided by other spies. Change your tactics, Giacinto. The devil! Lecazes snaps his fingers at scruples. The League must learn that the enemy is full of insidious perfidy. We no longer fight on the open as in the times of Napoleon. But the duel between Revolution and Reaction is raging none the less fiercely. The hour is ripe for blows and are we, the Knights of Liberty, to content ourselves with Platonic phrases? Are we not to wreak vengeance at last? We are so numerous as scarcely to know one another and yet so little is accomplished. 'Tis a competent leader that we need."
"Platonism is dead," cried Giacinto. "Our business is to grapple with the police. Volpetti's fate will soon be a warning to Lecazes and those who are his masters. Every English Carbonaro will soon see that events are at last shaping themselves—"
"What do you know?" eagerly demanded the other.
"I scent the critical moment approaching. I read men's thoughts upon their foreheads. My friend, societies do much, but at times one man arises who by a swift stroke accomplishes what societies are only meditating."
"You assume the air of a prophet."
"Well, time will tell. Now to our work. Volpetti will soon arrive, either alone or with a companion. He is to embark from Dover. When he reaches this inn, you and I shall enter his room and dispatch him before he has time to say 'Amen.' The Polipheme awaits us in the harbor. The captain is our brother and confederate. I trust Volpetti will come alone for so he will fall to me; but if he be accompanied, both of us shall be implicated."
"And why not both of us even if he come alone? Should one waste honor on dogs?"
Here Giacinto interrupted, saying:
"Did I not tell you it was a love affair? Behold the lady!"
The Marquis de Brezé had just hurried to meet two new comers, a man of middle age and a young girl. Both wore shabby traveling garments and had the appearance of Irish peasants. But in spite of her clothes, the beautiful imperious face of the girl immediately excited admiration while the man's grace and dignity revealed the aristocrat.
Giacinto grasped his friend's hand, and the other whispered:
"How remarkable!"
"What?" asked Giacinto.
"The resemblance."
"What resemblance?"
"Why the man and girl are reproductions of the guillotined king and queen."
"I have seen them only in pictures; but by the devil! they are indeed before us."
The Carbonari gazed at each other in amazement.