The Greatest Historical Novels. Rafael Sabatini
messenger arriving from Hamm that Mademoiselle de Kercadiou is well. Langéac had seen her just before he last came to Paris, a couple of months ago. That should reassure you.'
'It does not. It makes it all the more odd.' He turned again, and once more leaned his forehead on his arm.
The Baron rose and went to set an arm affectionately about his shoulders.
'Come, child, you are tired, and when we are tired we are pessimists. We fear the unimaginable at every turn. You know, I repeat, that she is well. Let that content you for the little while that now remains. Soon, very soon, you will have the happiness of seeing, not her pothooks, but herself. You will hear your praises from her lips. God, child, I envy you the joy to come. Dwell on that. The rest is naught.'
André-Louis straightened himself. He tried to smile. But the effort did not quite succeed. 'Thanks, Jean. You are a good fellow. But there's an evil premonition upon me. It's born perhaps of the sickness that comes of hope deferred.'
'Premonition? Bah! Leave premonitions to old wives, and let's to supper. I've a couple of bottles of a Gascony wine that's as big a braggart as I am. It will paint the future a bright rose for you.'
But proof was fast approaching that this evil premonition was anything but idle, that this dejection in the hour of triumph was justified by facts. The bearer of it was the Marquis de la Guiche who had reached Paris that same evening.
CHAPTER XLII
PRINCELY GRATITUDE
De La Guiche arrived at the Rue de Ménars at nine o'clock on the following morning, whilst de Batz and André-Louis, having broken their fast, still sat at table discussing the immediate measures to be taken. A message had been despatched to Camille Desmoulins begging him to come at once, so that André-Louis might acquaint him with the famous note which he had prepared, and determine with him, and perhaps with Danton as well, what form of publication it should be given; whether it should appear as an article in the Vieux Cordelier, or form the basis of a denunciation to be launched from the tribune of the Convention.
The unexpected arrival of La Guiche took them by surprise, and created a momentary diversion of their thoughts from this all-engrossing topic. De Batz sprang forward to embrace this oldest of his associates, who latterly and for so long had been absent from his side, serving the cause of the monarchy in other regions.
'La Guiche! Wherever you spring from, you could not be more opportune. You come in the very nick of time to lend a hand in the triumph of our long endeavours. What good angel sent you?'
The warmth of the welcome momentarily broke La Guiche's solemnity. A thin smile crossed the white hawk-face, but was gone almost as soon as it appeared.
'I see that you haven't heard,' he said.
The gravity of his countenance, the dejection in his eyes, gave pause to both of them.
'Heard what?' asked de Batz.
'Pomelles was arrested late last night by order of the Committee of Public Safety. His papers have been seized. If I had arrived in Paris an hour earlier, I might have been taken with him, for my first visit was to Bourg-Égalité to report events abroad. I am from Brussels.'
He loosened and removed his cloak, and bestowed it on a chair together with his conical hat which was adorned by a tricolour cockade. He stood forth, tall, slim, and elegant in a wine-coloured frock, buckskins and boots, his lustrous bronze hair tied in a ribbon of black silk.
De Batz stood before him momentarily dismayed and shaken. He was thinking quickly, anxiously watched by both his companions. Then, characteristically, he shrugged.
'Bad luck for Pomelles. But it's the fortune of war. Who embarks on these enterprises must be prepared to leave his head in them. I always have been, God knows. But I've moved more carefully than old Pomelles. I often warned him that he did not take enough precautions. His continued immunity was increasing his carelessness, and now ...' He shrugged again and spread his hands. 'Poor devil!'
'The fact is,' said La Guiche grimly, 'nothing prospers with us. Toulon has fallen.'
'That is stale news. We have known it for over three weeks, and we've grown reconciled. If Toulon has fallen, the royalist rising in the Vendée has gathered impetus. The loss in one place has been more than counterbalanced in the other.'
But La Guiche was not disposed to optimism. 'If I am a judge at all, the stand in the Vendée will end like that of Toulon and every other stand that has been made for the House of Bourbon.'
'There's no reason for that fear,' cut in André-Louis. 'And, anyway, there's a stand to be made here in Paris that can hardly fail.' Briefly he sketched the situation for La Guiche.
The newcomer's countenance brightened a little as he listened. 'Faith! That's the first really good news I've heard in weeks. The first ray of light in all this gloom.'
He pulled up a chair and sat down by the fire, spreading one of his fine hands to the blaze. The January morning was sharp. There had been a frost in the night, and the sun had not yet dispelled the chill mists that hung upon the city.
'There is nothing among Pomelles's papers, I suppose, that would incriminate you?'
De Batz shook his head. 'Nothing. Pomelles was d'Entragues's man. I work independently. I should never have kept my head so long had it been otherwise.'
'Can you do nothing for this poor devil, Jean? He is an old friend of mine, and he's done stout service. I would gladly take a risk for him.'
'Perhaps. It is possible that I could buy him off. I've bought off so many. But nearly all the conventionals who worked with me are awaiting the guillotine at this moment. Still there's Lavicomterie, and there's l'Huillier, who is on the Committee of Public Safety. I'll see them at the Tuileries today, and try to enlist their help.'
He sat down. André-Louis followed his example, speaking as he drew out a chair from the table. 'It's bad luck. A few more days and there would have been no more question of arresting him. Yes. It's bad luck.'
'Bad luck, as you say,' the Marquis agreed from where he sat facing the other two. 'But we have the luck that we deserve. Which is to say, not luck at all, but the natural effect of the causes that we provide.' He spoke with a singular bitterness that provoked from de Batz a sharp denial.
'Ah, that, no. I'll not suffer you to say it. Fate has fooled us rather mischievously at moments. But our endeavours have deserved well.'
'Oh, I am not speaking of you and your loyal band here in Paris. I am thinking of that fat fool in Hamm.'
'My God, La Guiche! You are speaking of the Regent!'
'Who may one day be King. I am well aware of it.'
De Batz frowned, between annoyance and perplexity. 'You haven't turned sans-coulotte by any chance?'
'I've been tempted to do so ever since the fall of Toulon.'
André-Louis shared the Baron's impatience.
'Toulon! Toulon! You have it on the brain. Do you deny that we were ill-served by fortune there?'
'I do. We were ill-served by the Comte de Provence. I place the responsibility for that defeat upon him.'
'Upon him? Oh, this is madness!'
La Guiche curled his lip. 'Madness, is it? Do you know the facts? Do you know that for months the defenders of Toulon clamoured for the presence of the Prince. They desired him at their head. Message after message was sent to him by Maudet, urging him, beseeching him to come; representing to him how his presence would stimulate those who had raised the royal standard for him.'
'But he went in the end,' said André-Louis.
'He set out to go. When it was too late. Even then I believe that he set out only because I shamed