While Count Monte-Leone acted thus courageously, the following scene took place in a hotel whither our readers have been previously taken.
A man apparently about thirty years old sat pale and downcast at a table, writing with extreme rapidity. Occasionally he rested his weary head on his hand, and his eyes wandered across the sky which he saw through a trap-window, so usual in that room of houses known as the garret.[4] He then glanced on the paper, and wrote down the inspirations he seemed to have evoked from the abode of angels. He was the occupant of a garret, which, though small, seemed so disguised by taste and luxury that the narrow abode appeared even luxurious. The table at which the writer sat was of Buhl, and was ornamented by vases of Sevres ware. The wooden bedstead was hidden by a silken coverlet, and a large arm-chair occupied a great portion of the room. On the small chimney-piece of varnished stone was a china vase filled with magnificent flowers from hot-houses, above which arose a superb camelia. A curtain of blue shut out the glare of the sun. It was easy to see that female taste had presided over the arrangements of this room. A beautiful woman really had done so. The inmate of the room was Doctor von Apsberg. The girl of whom we have spoken was Marie d'Harcourt.
On the day of René's arrest, a fortnight before the one we write of, the Doctor was alone when the secret panel was opened. Pignana suddenly appeared before the Doctor and told him that his house as well as the Doctor's was surrounded by suspicious looking people. Pignana therefore advised him to go at once. Von Apsberg was about to go to his bureau and take possession of his papers. The police did not allow him time to do so; they knocked at that very moment at the door and entered the house before Von Apsberg had time to leave. It will be remembered that the studio of the Doctor in which the archives were kept, was in the third story of the house. Matheus was, therefore, forced to fly through the opening, into Pignana's house, and with his ear to the wall listened to the noise made by the police, with thankfulness for the secret passage. He heard a deep voice say, "If your Jacobin Doctor has escaped, you shall answer for it." This was said to Mlle. Crepineau. The good maiden swore the Doctor was absent, as she thought, or feigned to think. Another voice, with a deep southern accent, said the following words, which the young Doctor heard with surprise and fear:
"The one you seek is gone. If, though, you would find him, press that copper nail which you see on the third row of books. You will find the means of his escape into the next house."
A cry was heard from the interior of the room. A female voice thus spoke to the man who had just spoken: "Señor Muñez, it is abominable for you thus to betray the poor fellows. You are a bad and heartless man."
When the Doctor heard thus revealed the secret of his retreat, he had pushed through the inner door, and it was well he did, for it gave him time to leave the room. The door of the library offered but a feeble resistance, which was soon overcome, and Pignana's house was carefully entered and searched.
He at once conceived an idea of a plan of escape. He said to Pignana, "Not a word; but follow me." Von Apsberg, accompanied by Pignana, left the place where they were concealed, went into the yard, and proceeded to a shed which was separated from his house by a few badly joined planks. One of these he removed, passed through the opening, and stood in an outhouse where he remembered he had once made some anatomical inquiries.
"But you are going back," said Pignana, "you will again fall in the hands of the enemy."
"You would be a bad general, Pignana," said Von Apsberg; "this is a common ruse de guerre, and is known as a counter-march. These places have been explored by the enemy, and consequently they will return no more. While the agents are looking where we are not, we will return where they have been."
When night came, and at this time of the year it was at four o'clock, Pignana told his companion of his plan. He purposed to scale the wall of the yard by means of the trellices of the vines. When once on the other side they would be in the garden of the Duke d'Harcourt, from which the young physician expected to go to the hotel to obtain protection from the Vicomte. The execution of this plan was easy for one as thin as d'Harcourt, but was impracticable to a person with an abdomen like Pignana. As soon as night had come, the latter said to Von Apsberg, "Go through the air, Doctor, if you can. I intend to adopt a more earthly route—through the door of the house, even if, much to Mlle. Crepineau's terror, I have the audacity to assume the guise of the suicide, and terrify her into opening the door for me. Besides, I am but slightly compromised, and will extricate myself. Adieu, then, Doctor," said he, "and good luck to you amid the clouds!" Von Apsberg clasped his hand, hurried from his retreat, ascended the wall, passed it, and a few minutes after was in the Duke's garden. Taking advantage of the darkness he went to the hotel, every window of which, to his surprise, he found closed. He went without being seen to the door of the reception rooms on the ground floor. The window had not been shut since the arrest of the Vicomte. The Doctor entered it. At the back of this room was a boudoir à la Louis XIV., of rare elegance, and appropriated to Marie d'Harcourt. Amid the darkness he heard a strange sound of sighs and sobs. The Doctor drew near, expecting that there was some pain for him to soothe. "Who is there?" said the Duke d'Harcourt.