For Love of a Bedouin Maid. Le Voleur
tall man, who appeared to be the leader, Vipont not yet having uttered a word, spoke again, and his voice was loud and masterful. "I enter where I please, Sir. If you were not a stranger in Paris, you would know that I am the Minister of Police."
At this announcement, the young man fell back a step; for, in those days, to offend the Minister of Police was a dangerous proceeding, he being, next to the chief of the State, the most powerful personage.
"Pardon, Sir," he said, "I am, as you rightly remarked, a stranger in Paris, being an officer under General Buonaparte, at present commanding the army in Italy. My name is St. Just."
Matters being thus explained to the satisfaction of both parties, St. Just, first instructing a sergeant to take his place for the remainder of the round, conducted the Police Minister and his companion across the courtyard. As they approached the palace, sounds of hammering, proceeding from the ground floor apartments on their left, fell on their ears. Both the newcomers paused and looked inquiringly at their guide, for shadows kept flitting to and fro across the curtained windows.
Noticing their surprise, St. Just replied to their unspoken question: "The noise comes from the Chamber of Audience, which carpenters are fitting up for the public reception of General Buonaparte on his return to Paris, which, they say, may be expected daily."
No reply was given by St. Just's companions, nor, indeed, was there opportunity, for, by this time, they had passed through the central doorway and into the entrance hall. Here all was bustle, but subdued, out of respect for the occupants of the palace—the directors. Threading his way through the throng of soldiers and workmen, and closely followed by his companions, the officer mounted a staircase; then, traversing a corridor, he opened a door, that gave admittance to the antechamber of the President's apartments. St. Just crossed the room, and, parting the arras, knocked at a door, on the further side of which voices could be heard in conversation.
Taking advantage of St. Just's absence, the Minister of police cast his eye round the apartment. It was long and narrow, apparently having been partitioned off from the room beyond. It was sparsely furnished in the style of the late Louis Seize, the most noticeable object being a large table in the center, on which were spread the remains of supper laid for one, as was evident by the solitary chair, which the late occupant had pushed back on leaving the table. At the further end, the table service had been removed to make room for a large map of the seat of war (Italy), Buonaparte's route being faintly traced upon it in pencil. By the hearth, in which burned a small fire of logs, whose tongues of flame threw dancing rays upon the floor, stood a small round table, on which were an oil lamp and a book. Vipont picked up the latter and, reading the title, Cæsar's Commentaries, chuckled softly. "This is indeed the age of education, when officers read Latin in their leisure moments," he said sneeringly.
The Minister, who had drawn aside the curtains of one of the windows, received this observation in silence, occupying himself in gazing into the courtyard below.
At this moment St. Just returned and announced, "Mons. le President will receive the Minister of Police."
Vipont and his companion passed into the inner room, and St. Just closed the door behind them. Then, taking up the book which had called forth the Police agent's contemptuous comment, he soon became absorbed in it.
CHAPTER II
When they entered the apartments of the Directors of the Republic, the first thing that met the eyes of the Police Agents was a table laid, like that in the adjoining room, for supper. Those who had partaken of it were three in number. He who sat at the top of the table, facing the door, was Barras, the President of the Directory; the others were Co-Directors. He on the right with his back to the window curtains was Reubel, the man facing him La Reveillère. Now these three men had met together to discuss measures for propping up the power of the Directory, which, from various causes, one being the growing popularity of General Buonaparte, was on the wane. They feared what actually did happen later, though as yet few people had a suspicion of it; that General Buonaparte, in the plenitude of his power and popularity, might seek to oust them.
On the entry of the untimely visitors, Barras half rose from his chair, and, turning, addressed the Police Minister. "Sotin, you have brought news of importance?" Then he paused and glanced curiously at Vipont, who, abashed at the magnificence of his surroundings and the princely air and toilet of the speaker, shifted, uneasily, on his feet.
"Gentlemen," replied Sotin, "the President is right; nothing but the importance of my news would have brought me here at such an hour; I have it on the authority of my agent from Rastadt, on whom I can implicitly rely, and whom I here present to you," here he pointed to Vipont, "that it is the intention of General Buonaparte to quit Rastadt on November 15th and to arrive in Paris to-morrow night."
"Impossible," burst from the three directors in a breath, and rising to their feet, they crowded round Vipont and showered incessant questions on him, all speaking at one time.
So engrossed were they in questioning the agent, who, disconcerted at the novelty of his position, could only stammer his replies; that they failed to notice that the door was ajar, and that, without, hidden by the arras, was an unseen listener. St. Just, for he it was, had been attracted by the voices of the speakers. In their excitement and forgetful of the thinness of the wall that separated them from the antechamber, they had exclaimed, "Buonaparte in Paris to-morrow? Impossible!"
Anxious to hear more, St. Just had moved cautiously to the door, which, being imperfectly latched, had yielded at his touch. He had sprung back frightened, but, finding himself undiscovered, had crept forward again and now stood there listening.
"You say," continued Barras, who was the first to recover some measure of composure, "that Buonaparte is to leave Rastadt on the 15th November? How did you learn this?" addressing Vipont.
"By questioning indirectly the servants of the General," was Vipont's reply.
"If it is true," resumed Barras, turning to Sotin, "by what gate do you expect the general to arrive?"
"By the Porte St. Antoine," was the confident reply.
There was a dead silence for a moment; then Barras spoke again, and this time his voice was hoarse, as with emotion.
"It must be prevented; General Buonaparte must not enter Paris."
Again there was a moment's silence, followed by a sort of click. In his agitation at hearing these words, the unseen listener (St. Just) had touched the handle of his sword. Instantly he moved back noiselessly and stood within the window curtains out of sight. Those in the inner chamber started at the sound and, half drawing their swords, turned their eyes towards the door, with guilty fear.
Sotin was the first to speak. "See, the door in unlatched; perhaps the officer...." Then, seizing the door, he flung it open and peered forth. The lamp dimly burning left the outer room in gloom, but he crossed the floor and, going to the doorway opening on the corridor, looked up and down the passage. Nothing met his gaze, and all was silent, save for the distant murmuring of voices in the hall below. He drew back into the antechamber; then proceeded to one of the windows, the curtains of which he pulled aside. The light of the moon, for the night had cleared, streamed into the room, but no one was to be seen.
"Bah! it was my fancy," he muttered; then, shaking his head as though still doubtful of what had caused the noise, he returned to the inner room. "The wind, I suppose," he said, at the same time closing the door.
Once more St. Just breathed freely. "If he had moved this curtain," was his thought, "France might have lost her General."
Again he moved forward and placed his ear against the partition. The act was futile. Cautioned by their recent fright, the directors lowered their voices, so that only scraps of the conversation reached St. Just:—
"A band of men .... Kill post boys .... witnesses dangerous .... Above all .... Buonaparte .... Highwaymen … common thing .... who's to know? … Sad .... great loss … Public funeral .... Minister of police .... Hand bills .... No success .... Make certain...."
At this point their further words became inaudible. Then the sound of a carriage entering the courtyard caught his ears, and he moved rapidly, but noiselessly, to the window, and looked out. Below him was a post