"For the moment I am going for a walk on the quay and once more will commune with the North-West wind."
"Tshaw!" ejaculated Martin-Roget savagely.
"Nay, citizen," resumed Chauvelin blandly, "the winds of heaven are excellent counsellors. I told you so just now and you agreed with me. They blow away the cobwebs of the mind and clear the brain for serious thinking. You want the Kernogan girl to be arrested inside the Rat Mort and you see no way of conveying her thither save by the use of violence, which for obvious reasons is to be deprecated: Carrier, for equally obvious reasons, will not have her taken to the place by force. On the other hand you admit that the wench would not follow you willingly——Well, citizen, we must find a way out of that impasse, for it is too unimportant an one to stand in the way of our plans: for this I must hold a consultation with the North-West wind."
"I won't allow you to do anything without consulting me."
"Am I likely to do that? To begin with I shall have need of your co-operation and that of the citizeness."
"In that case ..." muttered Martin-Roget grudgingly. "But remember," he added with a return to his usual self-assured manner, "remember that Yvonne and her father belong to me and not to you. I brought them into Nantes for mine own purposes—not for yours. I will not have my revenge jeopardised so that your schemes may be furthered."
"Who spoke of my schemes, citizen Martin-Roget?" broke in Chauvelin with perfect urbanity. "Surely not I? What am I but an humble tool in the service of the Republic?... a tool that has proved useless—a failure, what? My only desire is to help you to the best of my abilities. Your enemies are the enemies of the Republic: my ambition is to help you in destroying them."
For a moment longer Martin-Roget hesitated: he abominated this suggestion of becoming a mere instrument in the hands of this man whom he still would have affected to despise—had he dared. But here came the difficulty: he no longer dared to despise Chauvelin. He felt the strength of the man—the clearness of his intellect, and though he—Martin-Roget—still chose to disregard every warning in connexion with the English spies, he could not wholly divest his mind from the possibility of their presence in Nantes. Carrier's scheme was so magnificent, so satisfying, that the ex-miller's son was ready to humble his pride and set his arrogance aside in order to see it carried through successfully.
So after a moment or two, despite the fact that he positively ached to shut Chauvelin out of the whole business, Martin-Roget gave a grudging assent to his proposal.