el dorado-第35章

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that　。。。　I　made　sure　that　they　would　bring　him　to　trial　at　once；
and　was　in　terror　lest　we　arrived　here　too　late　toto　see　him。〃

She　checked　herself　quickly；　bravely　trying　to　still　the　quiver　of
her　voice。

〃And　of　Armand？〃　she　asked。

He　shook　his　head　sadly。

〃With　regard　to　him　I　am　at　a　still　greater　loss；〃　he　said：　〃I
cannot　find　his　name　on　any　of　the　prison　registers；　and　I　know
that　he　is　not　in　the　Conciergerie。　They　have　cleared　out　all　the
prisoners　from　there；　there　is　only　Percy〃

〃Poor　Armand　I〃　she　sighed；　〃it　must　be　almost　worse　for　him　than
for　any　of　us；　it　was　his　first　act　of　thoughtless　disobedience
that　brought　all　this　misery　upon　our　heads。〃

She　spoke　sadly　but　quietly。　　Sir　Andrew　noted　that　there　was　no
bitterness　in　her　tone。　　But　her　very　quietude　was　heart…breaking；
there　was　such　an　infinity　of　despair　in　the　calm　of　her　eyes。

〃Well！　though　we　cannot　understand　it　all；　Lady　Blakeney；〃　he　said
with　forced　cheerfulness；　〃we　must　remember　one　thingthat　whilst
there　is　life　there　is　hope。〃

〃Hope！〃　she　exclaimed　with　a　world　of　pathos　in　her　sigh；　her
large　eyes　dry　and　circled；　fixed　with　indescribable　sorrow　on　her
friend's　face。

Ffoulkes　turned　his　head　away；　pretending　to　busy　himself　with　the
coffee…making　utensils。　　He　could　not　bear　to　see　that　look　of
hopelessness　in　her　face；　for　in　his　heart　he　could　not　find　the
wherewithal　to　cheer　her。　　Despair　was　beginning　to　seize　on　him
too；　and　this　he　would　not　let　her　see。

They　had　been　in　Paris　three　days　now；　and　it　was　six　days　since
Blakeney　had　been　arrested。　　Sir　Andrew　and　Marguerite　had　found
temporary　lodgings　inside　Paris；　Tony　and　Hastings　were　just
outside　the　gates；　and　all　along　the　route　between　Paris　and
Calais；　at　St。　Germain；　at　Mantes；　in　the　villages　between
Beauvais　and　Amiens；　wherever　money　could　obtain　friendly　help；
members　of　the　devoted　League　of　the　Scarlet　Pimpernel　lay　in
hiding；　waiting　to　aid　their　chief。

Ffoulkes　had　ascertained　that　Percy　was　kept　a　close　prisoner　in
the　Conciergerie；　in　the　very　rooms　occupied　by　Marie　Antoinette
during　the　last　months　of　her　life。　He　left　poor　Marguerite　to
guess　how　closely　that　elusive　Scarlet　Pimpernel　was　being
guarded；　the　precautions　surrounding　him　being　even　more　minute
than　those　which　bad　made　the　unfortunate　Queen's　closing　days　a
martyrdom　for　her。

But　of　Armand　he　could　glean　no　satisfactory　news；　only　the
negative　probability　that　he　was　not　detained　in　any　of　the　larger
prisons　of　Paris；　as　no　register　which　he；　Ffoulkes；　so
laboriously　consulted　bore　record　of　the　name　of　St。　Just。

Haunting　the　restaurants　and　drinking　booths　where　the　most
advanced　Jacobins　and　Terrorists　were　wont　to　meet；　be　had　learned
one　or　two　details　of　Blakeney's　incarceration　which　he　could　not
possibly　impart　to　Marguerite。　The　capture　of　the　mysterious
Englishman　known　as　the　Scarlet　Pimpernel　had　created　a　great　deal
of　popular　satisfaction；　but　it　was　obvious　that　not　only　was　the
public　mind　not　allowed　to　associate　that　capture　with　the　escape
of　little　Capet　from　the　Temple；　but　it　soon　became　clear　to
Ffoulkes　that　the　news　of　that　escape　was　still　being　kept　a
profound　secret。

On　one　occasion　he　had　succeeded　in　spying　on　the　Chief　Agent　of
the　Committee　of　General　Security；　whom　he　knew　by　sight；　while
the　latter　was　sitting　at　dinner　in　the　company　of　a　stout；　florid
man　with　pock…marked　face　and　podgy　hands　covered　with　rings。

Sir　Andrew　marvelled　who　this　man　might　be。　　Heron　spoke　to　him　in
ambiguous　phrases　that　would　have　been　unintelligible　to　any　one
who　did　not　know　the　circumstances　of　the　Dauphin's　escape　and　the
part　that　the　League　of　the　Scarlet　Pimpernel　had　played　in　it。
But　to　Sir　Andrew　Ffoulkes；　whocleverly　disguised　as　a　farrier；
grimy　after　his　day's　workwas　straining　his　ears　to　listen
whilst　apparently　consuming　huge　slabs　of　boiled　beef；　it　soon
became　dear　that　the　chief　agent　and　his　fat　friend　were　talking
of　the　Dauphin　and　of　Blakeney。

〃He　won't　hold　out　much　longer；　citizen；〃　the　chief　agent　was
saying　in　a　confident　voice；　〃our　men　are　absolutely　unremitting
in　their　task。　　Two　of　them　watch　him　night　and　day；　they　look
after　him　well；　and　practically　never　lose　sight　of　him；　but　the
moment　he　tries　to　get　any　sleep　one　of　them　rushes　into　the　cell
with　a　loud　banging　of　bayonet　and　sabre；　and　noisy　tread　on　the
flagstones；　and　shouts　at　the　top　of　his　voice：　　'Now　then；
aristo；　where's　the　brat？　　Tell　us　now；　and　you　shall　he　down　and
go　to　sleep。'　　I　have　done　it　myself　all　through　one　day　just　for
the　pleasure　of　it。　　It's　a　little　tiring　for　you　to　have　to　shout
a　good　deal　now；　and　sometimes　give　the　cursed　Englishman　a　good
shake…up。　　He　has　had　five　days　of　it；　and　not　one　wink　of　sleep
during　that　timenot　one　single　minute　of　restand　he　only　gets
enough　food　to　keep　him　alive。　　I　tell　you　he　can't　last。　　Citizen
Chauvelin　had　a　splendid　idea　there。　　It　will　all　come　right　in　a
day　or　two。〃

〃H'm！〃　grunted　the　other　sulkily；　〃those　Englishmen　are　tough。〃

〃Yes！〃　retorted　Heron　with　a　grim　laugh　and　a　leer　of　savagery
that　made　his　gaunt　face　look　positively　hideous〃you　would　have
given　out　after　three　days；　friend　de　Batz；　would　you　not？　　And　I
warned　you；　didn't　I？　　I　told　you　if　you　tampered　with　the　brat　I
would　make　you　cry　in　mercy　to　me　for　death。〃

〃And　I　warned　you；〃　said　the　other　imperturbably；　〃not　to　worry　so
much　about　me；　but　to　keep　your　eyes　open　for　those　cursed
Englishmen。〃

〃I　am　keeping　my　eyes　open　for　you；　nevertheless；　my　friend。　　If　I
thought　you　knew　where　the　vermin's　spawn　was　at　this　moment　I
would〃

〃You　would　put　me　on　the　same　rack　that　you　or　your　precious
friend；　Chauvelin；　have　devised　for　the　Englishman。　　But　I　don't
know　where　the　lad　is。　If　I　did　I　would　not　be　in　Paris。〃

〃I　know　that；〃　assented　Heron　with　a　sneer；　〃you　would　soon　be
after　the　rewardover　in　Austria；　what？but　I　have　your
movements　tracked　day　and　night；　my　friend。　　I　dare　say　you　are　as
anxious　as　we　are　as　to　the　whereabouts　of　the　child。　　Had　he　been
taken　over　the　frontier　you　would　have　been　the　first　to　hear　of
it；　eh？　No；〃　he　added　confidently；　and　as　if　anxious　to　reassure
himself；　〃my　firm　belief　is　that　the　original　idea　of　these
confounded　Englishmen　was　to　try　and　get　the　child　over　to
England；　and　that　they　alone　know　where　he　is。　　I　tell　you　it
won't　be　many　days　before　that　very　withered　Scarlet　Pimpernel
will　order　his　followers　to　give　little　Capet　up　to　us。　　Oh！　they
are　hanging　about　Paris　some　of　them；　I　know　that；　citizen
Chauvelin　is　convinced　that　the　wife　isn't　very　far　away。　　Give
her　a　sight　of　her　husband　now；　say　I；　and　she'll　make　the　others
give　the　child　up　soon　enough。〃

The　man　laughed　like　some　hyena　gloating　over　its　prey。　　Sir
Andrew　nearly　betrayed　himself　then。　　He　had　to　dig　his　nails　into
his　own　flesh　to　prevent　himself　from　springing　then　and　there　at
the　throat　of　that　wretch　whose　monstrous　ingenuity　had　invented
torture　for　the　fallen　enemy　far　worse　than　any　that　the　cruelties
of　medieval　Inquisitions　had　devised。

So　they　would　not　let　him　sleep！　　A　simple　idea　born　in　the　brain
of　a　fiend。　　Heron　had　spoken　of　Chauvelin　as　the　originator　of
the　devilry；　a　man　weakened　deliberately　day　by　day　by　insufficient
food；　and　the　horrible　process　of　denying　him　rest。　　It　seemed
inconceivable　that　human；　sentient　beings　should　have　thought　of
such　a　thing。　　Perspiration　stood　up　in　beads　on　Sir　Andrew's　brow
when　he　thought　of　his　friend；　brought　down　by　want　of　sleep　to
what？　　His　physique　was　splendidly　powerful；　but　could　it　stand
against　such　racking　torment　for　long？　　And　the　clear；　the　alert
mind；　the　scheming　brain；　the　reckless　daringhow　soon　would　these
become　enfeebled　by　the　slow；　steady　torture　of　an　utter　want　of　rest？

Ffoulkes　had　to　smother　a　cry　of　horror；　which　surely　must　have
drawn　the　attention　of　that　fiend　on　himself　had　he　not　been　so
engrossed　in　the　enjoyment　of　his　own　devilry。　　As　it　is；　he　ran
out　of　the　stuffy　eating…house；　for　he　felt　as　if　its　fetid　air
must　choke　him。

For　an　hour　after　that　he　wandered　about　the　streets；　not　daring
to　face　Marguerite；　lest　his　eyes　betrayed　some　of　the　horror
which　was　shaking　his　very　soul。

That　was　twenty…four　hours　ago。　　To…day　he　had　learnt　little　else。
It　was　generally　known　that　the　Englishman　was　in　the　Conciergerie
prison；　that　he　was　being　closely　watched；　and　that　his　trial
would　come　on　within　the　next　few　days；　but　no　one　seemed　to　know
exactly　when。　　The　public　was　getting　restive；　demanding　that
trial　and　execution　to　which　every　one　seemed　to　look　forward　as
to　a　holiday。　　In　the　meanwhile　the　escape　of　the　Dauphin　had　been
kept　from　the　knowledge　of　the　public；　Heron　and　his　gang；　fearing
for　their　lives；　had　still　hopes　of　extracting　from　the　Englishman
the　secret　of　the　lad's　hiding…place；　and　the　means　they　employed
for　arriving　at　this　end　was　worthy　of　Lucifer　and　his　host　of
devils　in　hell。

From　other　fragments　of　conversation　which　Sir　Andrew　Ffoulkes　had
gleaned　that　same　evening；　it　seemed　to　him　that　in　order　to　hide
their　defalcations　Heron　and　the　four　commissaries　in　charge　of
little　Capet　had　substituted　a　deaf　and　dumb　child　for　the　escaped
little　prisoner。　　This　miserable　small　wreck　of　humanity　was
reputed　to　be　sick　and　kept　in　a　darkened　room；　in　bed；　and　was　in
that　condition　exhibited　to　any　member　of　the　Convention　who　had
the　right　to　see　him。　　A　partition　had　been　very　hastily　erected
in　the　inner　room　once　occupied　by　the　Simons；　and　the　child　was
kept　behind　that　partition；　and　no　one　was　allowed　to　come　too
near　to　him。　　Thus　the　fraud　was　succeeding　fairly　well。　　Heron
and　his　accomplices　only　cared　to　save　their　skins；　and　the
wretched　little　substitute　being　really　ill；　they　firmly　hoped
that　he　would　soon　die；　when　no　doubt　they　would　bruit　abroad　the
news　of　the　death　of　Capet；　which　would　relieve　them　of　further
responsibility。

That　such　ideas；　such　thoughts；　such　schemes　should　have
engendered　in　human　minds　it　is　almost　impossible　to　conceive；　and
yet　we　know　from　no　less　important　a　witness　than　Madame　Simon
herself　that　the　child　who　died　in　the　Temple　a　few　weeks　later
was　a　poor　little　imbecile；　a　deaf　and　dumb　child　brought　hither
from　one　of　the　asylums　and　left　to　die　in　peace。　　There　was
nobody　but　kindly　Death　to　take　him　out　of　his　misery；　for　the
giant　intellect　that　had　planned　and　carried　out　the　rescue　of　the
uncrowned　King　of　France；　and　which　alone　might　have　had　the　power
to　save　him　too；　was　being　broken　on　the　rack　of　enforced
sleeplessness。



CHAPTER　XXVI
THE　BITTEREST　FOE

That　same　evening　Sir　Andrew　Ffoulkes；　having　announced　his
intention　of　gleaning　further　news　of　Armand；　if　possible；　went
out　shortly　after　seven　o'clock；　promising　to　be　home　again　about
nine。

Marguerite；　on　the　other　hand；　had　to　make　her　friend　a　solemn
promise　that　she　would　try　and　eat　some　supper　which　the　landlady
of　these　miserable　apartments　had　agreed　to　prepare　for　her。　　So
far　they　had　been　left　in　peaceful　occupation　of　these　squalid
lodgings　in　a　tumble…down　house