Someone to speak to me at nine in the morning; me, an unknown, a stranger from a distance, who had passed the night on the road and had only just arrived in the place! It seemed a curious demand and I foresaw mystery. “Let him come in,” I said to the proprietor, smiling, for I could not help being amused at his grave and embarrassed manner.
The dining-room opened on to a large, dark corridor which had not been lit up and in which it was difficult to distinguish what was happening. My host rushed into the corridor and disappeared in the darkness.
There was a moment of deep silence, then hasty footsteps and a confused noise; I vaguely saw an ill-defined movement, the gleam of weapons, arms waving in the thick of the darkness, advancing footsteps! At last a figure appeared out of the background and drew near; then a mad burst of laughter and these words: “Is that you, Reitlinger? What a joke!” And when the speaker came out waving his long arms, from the dark corridor where he was standing with his armed men, I recognised an old friend: it was one of the most charming sub-prefects in the provinces, one who was the ornament of the “parquet” at Dieppe and whom I had known when he was studying in Paris. He sat down at my table and told me that he had come purely and simply in order to lock up my dangerous person and prevent me from doing a hurt to the National Defence!
The supreme authorities of Dieppe had been informed that the Secretary of the Government was at the hotel. The sous-préfet had pricked up his ears at this report, shrugged his shoulders, shaken his head and considered, incredulity in his soul! The Secretary of the Government? ... an invention, a clumsy imposture! Was the Government not at Paris? Was not Paris besieged by the Prussians? Would not the Prussians have intercepted this Secretary?
That is not the way to humbug authorities who watch over the town and district with a vigilant and circumspect eye!
This Secretary is simply a spy and he covers himself with the name of the Government the better to hide his schemes, the better to betray the poor town of Dieppe, and carry away the plans of its fortifications with greater security. Let us put him under lock and key.
The “parquet” had been hastily assembled, and the “parquet,” full of admiration for the perspicacity of the sous-préfet, had ordered out its posse, while the latter promptly headed the expedition to assure himself of my person. My sous-préfet was the first to laugh at this deployment of armed force and his own haste in taking part in such an adventure.
“Now that the security of our country permits it,” said he, “I will send back my braves and we will drink to the success of your mission.”
This was excellent, but I asked myself what would have happened if the task of arresting me had been entrusted to one who did not happen to know me personally. Would M. le Sous-Préfet have kept me under lock and key, or would I have been obliged to show him the Minister’s confidential letters accrediting me for my mission?