“Precisely, monsieur. You have put the whole thing in a nutshell.”
“Well, Monsieur Lavenne, the last time I played chess, it was with Monsieur de Gondy. I was stalemated by the move of a bishop. To-day, playing chess with Monsieur de Sartines, I am stalemated by the move of a knight. You are the knight, Monsieur Lavenne. You have closed in on me and shown me my position, and I do not kick the board over in a temper, simply because you have come to me as a gentleman comes to a gentleman, and spoken to me as a gentleman speaks to a gentleman. I cannot move, it seems, without being taken by either you or Choiseul. I prefer you to Choiseul, not so much because you offer me Vincennes in exchange for La Bastille, but because you are the better gentleman. Monsieur Lavenne, I place myself and my sword in your hands. Arrest me.”
He rose from the table, flung a louis on the cloth to pay his score. Then, taking his hat, he left the café with his captor.
In this fashion did de Sartines rope in and tame without resistance a man whose capture, by Choiseul, might have involved his—Sartines’—destruction. For Rochefort, angry with the Dubarrys and incensed against Camille Fontrailles, was now the danger spot in the surroundings of the Minister of Police, Rochefort and Ferminard—who was already in the safe custody of Captain Pierre Cousin, the governor of Vincennes.
CHAPTER V
CAPTAIN ROUX
LAVENNE left the café, followed by Rochefort. They passed down the street to the corner, where, drawn up at the pavement, stood a closed carriage.
“Monsieur,” said Lavenne, “this is a police carriage, and as such will be able to leave the Porte St. Antoine—which, as you know, is the gate leading to Vincennes—without question or examination.”
“So I am to make my escape from the Bastille in a police carriage,” laughed Rochefort. “Well, let us enter.”