The impression thus left upon the mind of the burgher--and it was a correct one--was, that there was a long store of treasured hatred in the mind of the Prevot towards this statesman, Imbercourt, aggravated by thwarted ambition and avarice; and that he had reached that point at which he was ready to run considerable risks for the gratification of his vengeance and the promotion of his interest. As to any moral sentiment standing in the way, it was an objection which neither the Prevot nor the druggist ever dreamed of. Those were ties from which each felt that the other was free, and therefore they were never taken into consideration.
After a long conversation had brought them to this mutual state of good understanding, and after the druggist had pretty plainly pointed out that, before proceeding with any of the deeper and more intricate schemes, which might place the life of each in the power of the other, he should expect that the Prevot would join with him in some act which, though less dangerous, would give him a hold upon that officer, that at present he did not possess, he went on with the calmness of intense but subdued feelings.
"By the sentence of the eschevins," he said, in a low, quiet tone, which was, perhaps, more impressive than even his former bursts of passion; "by the sentence of the eschevins, Sir Prevot, the body--you understand me--the body is to hang in chains over the Ypres gate, till such time as it is consumed by the wind, and the rain, and the foul birds of prey; will it not be sweet for a father's eyes to behold such a sight every time that he rides forth from his own house?"
"Why, truly no, Master Ganay," replied Maillotin du Bac: "good faith, you must take some other road."
"Ay; but would it not be a matter of triumph, rather than shame," asked the druggist, "if I could ride through that gate, and find the body gone? In a word, would it not be proud to show these paltry tyrants that even now they cannot work all their will? What! do you not understand me yet? I would have my son's head laid in the calm ground, man: I would have the body of the thing I loved removed from the place of horror and of shame. What say you? can it be done?"
"I understand you now," answered the Prevot: "let me but think a moment, Master Ganay: let me but think a moment. It can be done--ay, it can be done: but I should think it mattered little to one of your firm mind. The body will rot as soon in the holiest ground that ever priest or bishop blest, as in the wide unholy air."
"Do I not know that?" demanded Ganay, with a curling lip. "Think you that I ever dream of angels or devils, or all the absurd fancies that monks and priestly quacks have built up, on the wild vision of an hereafter? No, no! but I would fain disappoint the tyrants, and teach them that they cannot do all. I would fain, too, remove the memento of my house's shame from before the eyes of my fellow-citizens. Can it be done, I say?"
"It can--it can!" replied Maillotin du Bac; "and, to please you, it shall be done. Hie you away straight to the churchyard of the Minnims, with some one you can trust bearing pickaxe and shovel. Use my name, and the porter will soon let you in. Wait there till I come, and busy the man you take with you in digging a trench. Be quick: for it will take long. I go upon my errand, and will be there in about two hours. After this, Master Ganay, I think we may trust each other. So we will meet again to-morrow night, at this hour; and, if I mistake not, we will soon find means to crush the viper that has stung us both."
The druggist replied not a word, but wrung the hand that the Prevot had given him hard in his own, and suffered him to depart.
It were needless to trace further the proceedings of that night, or to give any more detailed explanations in regard to the events just mentioned, than to say, that early the following morning a party of children and women assembled before the Ypres gate, to gaze--with that fondness for strange and fearful sights which often characterizes that age and that sex--upon the body of young Karl Ganay, the rich druggist's son, who, after a short course of wild profligacy and vice, had been hanged for murder the day before. However much they might expect to have their wonder excited, it was so in a greater degree, though in a different manner from that which they anticipated. There, on the projecting beam from which the unhappy young man had been suspended, hung, indeed, the rope which had terminated his existence, and the chains which marked the additional turpitude of his offence; but the body itself was no longer there; and the tidings of what had occurred soon spread through the city.