“Choiseul will not hear the news. We will pretend he has escaped. Early this morning I had a letter from Choiseul, asking me to drag Paris with a seine net for Rochefort. He is accused of having killed a man. Well, I will drag Paris with a seine net, imprison Rochefort, under the name of Bonhomme, or any name you please, and once we have him tightly tucked away in Vincennes, all will be smooth. Captain Pierre Cousin, the governor of Vincennes, is entirely mine.”
“It is a good idea,” said Jean; “and really, seeing how Rochefort is placed as regards Choiseul, it would be the best act we could do for him.”
“It’s the best we can do for ourselves,” said Sartines. “Has Rochefort gone back to his rooms, do you think?”
“I don’t know. He told me he would go to the Café de Régence for breakfast.”
“If he said that, he will be there, it’s just like his bravado, and there I shall arrest him.”
“He will resist, and he will be surrounded by friends.”
“Dubarry,” said Sartines, “you talk as though you were talking to a police agent. If you had been with me the other night, you would have heard me giving Rochefort a little lecture on my ways and methods; you would have heard me say, amongst other things, that I hold my position not by cleverness—though, indeed, perhaps I am not a fool—but by my knowledge of men and how they reason and think and act. Of course, if I were to arrest Rochefort in the ordinary way, he would resist; his friends would help him, blood would be spilt, and the Parisians would cry out, ‘Ah! there is that cursed de Sartines again.’ Rochefort is a popular figure, and a popular figure only requires to be arrested to make it a popular idol. I do not intend to make an idol of Rochefort.”
He went to the table by the window, and struck a bell.
“Send Lavenne to me,” said he, when the servant answered the summons. “Has he arrived yet?”
“Yes, monsieur, he is here.”