"Quite the only course; very much to your advantage; much obleeged to you," hiccoughed the Regent, at this point, with a hazy idea that he was forwarding the proceedings.
Mr. Pitt glanced at him contemptuously and went on: "The letters you sent us by Madame," and he pointed to a packet on the table, "have been copied. They will be duly delivered at their destination—Mr. Perry's—by Madame's servant"—he meant Mahmoud—"whom, we understand, Mr. Perry knows; therefore no suspicion will be aroused. The copies that have been made of them you will deliver in person to our Admiral, Lord Nelson. With that object you will be shipped on board H.M.S. La France"—seeing the look of surprise on St. Just's face—"a French vessel recently captured in the channel. You will have to run the gauntlet of whatever French ships may be found between here and Gibraltar, not far from which, I fancy, Lord Nelson will be met with. You may wonder why you have been selected for this mission, so I will satisfy you. We believe the despatches you brought from Paris to be genuine, to mean what they say. But, sometimes, such documents are penned and despatched in order that they may be seized by the enemy and so mislead him—to lead him into a trap. It, therefore, seems desirable to make you the messenger to Lord Nelson. If the information given here"—and he tapped the packet with his finger—"should be false, the Admiral will know how to deal with you."
This was pleasant hearing for St. Just. It seemed possible that he had escaped being shot as a traitor by French bullets, only to swing from a British yard-arm as a spy. But, for the moment, he said nothing; Mr. Pitt proceeded, "To be frank with you, you will be a hostage for the genuineness of your despatch. Now that you realize the position, perhaps you would like to express your opinion of the reliability of these documents. It might save us anxiety and yourself this voyage—and, perhaps—your neck, for the Admiral is a strict disciplinarian."
St. Just did realize the position; it was as clear as daylight.
"I can only say in reply to that," rejoined St. Just, "that I have not an idea what the despatch contains, nor whether it was written to mislead, or not. For the last eighteen months I have been imprisoned at Vincennes, and not a word of what took place in Europe during the whole time reached my ears. Three days ago I was released and sent here with these papers, and ordered to remain in England, awaiting fresh instructions. I know no more."
"I thoroughly believe you, Mons. St. Just," replied the Premier. "For all that, we like to be on the safe side; and I fear you will have to take this voyage. The papers are ready for Mons. St. Just, Mr. Sidney?" he wound up interrogatively to the Secretary.
"They are, Sir," was the reply.
St. Just sat sad and stupefied. Once more, he had no sooner rejoined his wife than he was to be torn away from her. Fate was indeed cruel to him.
Now Halima had so represented matters as to make it appear that he had betrayed his trust and voluntarily handed over the papers to the English Government; but with a show of opposition to protect himself from Napoleon's vengeance, should it come to his ears, and he, St. Just, fall into the Emperor's hands. But he had no mind to lie under such an imputation, and was on the point of making a vehement protest, and explaining that he was no party to Mr. Pitt's being in possession of the papers; that he had been robbed of them; when Halima, reading his intention in his face, first silenced him with a look, and, then getting up, went round to him. "Henri!" she murmured cooingly. Her accents brought back to him the memory of days of love and dalliance spent together in the luxurious house at Cairo; of nights out in the desert under the starlit sky; of moments when they had been in peril of their lives, and they two had been all in all to one another. His name, now uttered by her in her softest tones, that breathed of love, thrilled him from head to foot, and sent the blood leaping through his veins. The words he had meant to utter remained unspoken.
"Henri," she laid her hand gently on his arm, "be silent, if you love me. I read your thoughts. You would tell them how the papers reached their hands; that you had no part in the transaction. If you value your liberty, your life—and mine, for your death would be also mine—say nothing. It will not alter their resolve to send you. At present, they have trust in you; do nothing to destroy that trust. Even as it is, they have some little doubt, though I have worked hard for you.