The Elusive Pimpernel, Page 3

  Robespierre had quietly waited the while. He was in no hurry: being anight-bird of very pronounced tastes, he was quite ready to sit hereuntil the small hours of the morning watching Citizen Chauvelin mentallywrithing in the throes of recollections of the past few months.

  There was nothing that delighted the sea-green Incorruptible quite somuch as the aspect of a man struggling with a hopeless situation andfeeling a net of intrigue drawing gradually tighter and tighter aroundhim.

  Even now, when he saw Chauvelin's smooth forehead wrinkled into ananxious frown, and his thin hand nervously clutched upon the table,Robespierre heaved a pleasurable sigh, leaned back in his chair, andsaid with an amiable smile:

  "You do agree with me, then, Citizen, that the situation has becomeintolerable?"

  Then as Chauvelin did not reply, he continued, speaking more sharply:

  "And how terribly galling it all is, when we could have had that manunder the guillotine by now, if you had not blundered so terribly lastyear."

  His voice had become hard and trenchant like that knife to which he wasso ready to make constant allusion. But Chauvelin still remained silent.There was really nothing that he could say.

  "Citizen Chauvelin, how you must hate that man!" exclaimed Robespierreat last.

  Then only did Chauvelin break the silence which up to now he hadappeared to have forced himself to keep.

  "I do!" he said with unmistakable fervour.

  "Then why do you not make an effort to retrieve the blunders of lastyear?" queried Robespierre blandly. "The Republic has been unusuallypatient and long-suffering with you, Citizen Chauvelin. She has takenyour many services and well-known patriotism into consideration. Butyou know," he added significantly, "that she has no use for worthlesstools."

  Then as Chauvelin seemed to have relapsed into sullen silence, hecontinued with his original ill-omened blandness:

  "Ma foi! Citizen Chauvelin, were I standing in your buckled shoes, Iwould not lose another hour in trying to avenge mine own humiliation!"

  "Have I ever had a chance?" burst out Chauvelin with ill-suppressedvehemence. "What can I do single-handed? Since war has been declaredI cannot go to England unless the Government will find some officialreason for my doing so. There is much grumbling and wrath over here, andwhen that damned Scarlet Pimpernel League has been at work, when a scoreor so of valuable prizes have been snatched from under the very knifeof the guillotine, then, there is much gnashing of teeth and uselesscursings, but nothing serious or definite is done to smother thoseaccursed English flies which come buzzing about our ears."

  "Nay! you forget, Citizen Chauvelin," retorted Robespierre, "that we ofthe Committee of Public Safety are far more helpless than you. Youknow the language of these people, we don't. You know their manners andcustoms, their ways of thought, the methods they are likely to employ:we know none of these things. You have seen and spoken to men in Englandwho are members of that damned League. You have seen the man who is itsleader. We have not."

  He leant forward on the table and looked more searchingly at the thin,pallid face before him.

  "If you named that leader to me now, if you described him, we couldgo to work more easily. You could name him, and you would, CitizenChauvelin."

  "I cannot," retorted Chauvelin doggedly.

  "Ah! but I think you could. But there! I do not blame your silence. Youwould wish to reap the reward of your own victory, to be the instrumentof your own revenge. Passions! I think it natural! But in the name ofyour own safety, Citizen, do not be too greedy with your secret. If theman is known to you, find him again, find him, lure him to France! Wewant him--the people want him! And if the people do not get what theywant, they will turn on those who have withheld their prey."

  "I understand, Citizen, that your own safety and that of your governmentis involved in this renewed attempt to capture the Scarlet Pimpernel,"retorted Chauvelin drily.

  "And your head, Citizen Chauvelin," concluded Robespierre.

  "Nay! I know that well enough, and you may believe me, and you will,Citizen, when I say that I care but little about that. The question is,if I am to lure that man to France what will you and your government doto help me?"

  "Everything," replied Robespierre, "provided you have a definite planand a definite purpose.

  "I have both. But I must go to England in, at least, a semi-officialcapacity. I can do nothing if I am to hide in disguise in out-of-the-waycorners."

  "That is easily done. There has been some talk with the Britishauthorities anent the security and welfare of peaceful French subjectssettled in England. After a good deal of correspondence they havesuggested our sending a semi-official representative over there to lookafter the interests of our own people commercially and financially.We can easily send you over in that capacity if it would suit yourpurpose."

  "Admirably. I have only need of a cloak. That one will do as well asanother."

  "Is that all?"

  "Not quite. I have several plans in my head, and I must know that Iam fully trusted. Above all, I must have power--decisive, absolute,illimitable power."

  There was nothing of the weakling about this small, sable-clad man, wholooked the redoubtable Jacobin leader straight in the face and brought afirm fist resolutely down upon the table before him. Robespierre pauseda while ere he replied; he was eying the other man keenly, trying toread if behind that earnest, frowning brow there did not lurk someselfish, ulterior motive along with that demand for absolute power.

  But Chauvelin did not flinch beneath that gaze which could make everycheek in France blanch with unnamed terror, and after that slight momentof hesitation Robespierre said quietly:

  "You shall have the complete power of a military dictator in every townor borough of France which you may visit. The Revolutionary Governmentshall create you, before you start for England, Supreme Head of all theSub-Committees of Public Safety. This will mean that in the name of thesafety of the Republic every order given by you, of whatsoever natureit might be, must be obeyed implicitly under pain of an arraignment fortreason."

  Chauvelin sighed a quick, sharp sigh of intense satisfaction, which hedid not even attempt to disguise before Robespierre.

  "I shall want agents," he said, "or shall we say spies? and, of course,money."

  "You shall have both. We keep a very efficient secret service inEngland and they do a great deal of good over there. There is muchdissatisfaction in their Midland counties--you remember the Birminghamriots? They were chiefly the work of our own spies. Then you knowCandeille, the actress? She had found her way among some of thosecircles in London who have what they call liberal tendencies. I believethey are called Whigs. Funny name, isn't it? It means perruque, I think.Candeille has given charity performances in aid of our Paris poor,in one or two of these Whig clubs, and incidentally she has been veryuseful to us."

  "A woman is always useful in such cases. I shall seek out the CitizenessCandeille."

  "And if she renders you useful assistance, I think I can offer herwhat should prove a tempting prize. Women are so vain!" he added,contemplating with rapt attention the enamel-like polish on hisfinger-nails. "There is a vacancy in the Maison Moliere. Or--what mightprove more attractive still--in connection with the proposed Nationalfete, and the new religion for the people, we have not yet chosena Goddess of Reason. That should appeal to any feminine mind. Theimpersonation of a goddess, with processions, pageants, and the rest...Great importance and prominence given to one personality.... Whatsay you, Citizen? If you really have need of a woman for the furtheranceof your plans, you have that at your disposal which may enhance herzeal."

  "I thank you, Citizen," rejoined Chauvelin calmly. "I always entertaineda hope that some day the Revolutionary Government would call again onmy services. I admit that I failed last year. The Englishman isresourceful. He has wits and he is very rich. He would not havesucceeded, I think, but for his money--and corruption and bribery arerife in Paris and on our coasts. He slipped through my fingers at thevery moment w
hen I thought that I held him most securely. I do admit allthat, but I am prepared to redeem my failure of last year, and... thereis nothing more to discuss.--I am ready to start."

  He looked round for his cloak and hat, and quietly readjusted the setof his neck-tie. But Robespierre detained him a while longer: thatborn mountebank, born torturer of the souls of men, had not gloatedsufficiently yet on the agony of mind of this fellow-man.

  Chauvelin had always been trusted and respected. His services inconnection with the foreign affairs of the Revolutionary Government hadbeen invaluable, both before and since the beginning of the EuropeanWar. At one time he formed part of that merciless decemviratewhich--with Robespierre at its head--meant to govern France by laws ofbloodshed and of unparalleled ferocity.

  But the sea-green Incorruptible had since tired of him, then hadendeavoured to push him on one side, for Chauvelin was keen and clever,and, moreover, he possessed all those qualities of selfless patriotismwhich were so conspicuously lacking in Robespierre.

  His failure in bringing that interfering Scarlet Pimpernel to justiceand the guillotine had completed Chauvelin's downfall. Though nototherwise molested, he had been left to moulder in obscurity during thispast year. He would soon enough have been completely forgotten.

  Now he was not only to be given one more chance to regain public favour,but he had demanded powers which in consideration of the aim inview, Robespierre himself could not refuse to grant him. But theIncorruptible, ever envious and jealous, would not allow him to exulttoo soon.

  With characteristic blandness he seemed to be entering into allChauvelin's schemes, to be helping in every way he could, for therewas something at the back of his mind which he meant to say to theex-ambassador, before the latter took his leave: something whichwould show him that he was but on trial once again, and which woulddemonstrate to him with perfect clearness that over him there hoveredthe all-powerful hand of a master.

  "You have but to name the sum you want, Citizen Chauvelin," said theIncorruptible, with an encouraging smile, "the government will not stintyou, and you shall not fail for lack of authority or for lack of funds."

  "It is pleasant to hear that the government has such uncounted wealth,"remarked Chauvelin with dry sarcasm.

  "Oh! the last few weeks have been very profitable," retortedRobespierre; "we have confiscated money and jewels from emigrantroyalists to the tune of several million francs. You remember thetraitor Juliette Marny, who escape to England lately? Well! her mother'sjewels and quite a good deal of gold were discovered by one of our mostable spies to be under the care of a certain Abbe Foucquet, a calotinfrom Boulogne--devoted to the family, so it seems."

  "Yes?" queried Chauvelin indifferently.

  "Our men seized the jewels and gold, that is all. We don't know yet whatwe mean to do with the priest. The fisherfolk of Boulogne like him, andwe can lay our hands on him at any time, if we want his old head forthe guillotine. But the jewels were worth having. There's a historicnecklace worth half a million at least."

  "Could I have it?" asked Chauvelin.

  Robespierre laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

  "You said it belonged to the Marny family," continued the ex-ambassador."Juliette Marny is in England. I might meet her. I cannot tell what mayhappen: but I feel that the historic necklace might prove useful. Justas you please," he added with renewed indifference. "It was a thoughtthat flashed through my mind when you spoke--nothing more."

  "And to show you how thoroughly the government trusts you, CitizenChauvelin," replied Robespierre with perfect urbanity, "I will myselfdirect that the Marny necklace be placed unreservedly in your hands; anda sum of fifty thousand francs for your expenses in England. You see,"he added blandly, "we give you no excuse for a second failure."

  "I need none," retorted Chauvelin drily, as he finally rose from hisseat, with a sigh of satisfaction that this interview was ended at last.

  But Robespierre too had risen, and pushing his chair aside he tooka step or two towards Chauvelin. He was a much taller man than theex-ambassador. Spare and gaunt, he had a very upright bearing, andin the uncertain light of the candle he seemed to tower strangelyand weirdly above the other man: the pale hue of his coat, hislight-coloured hair, the whiteness of his linen, all helped to give tohis appearance at that moment a curious spectral effect.

  Chauvelin somehow felt an unpleasant shiver running down his spine asRobespierre, perfectly urbane and gentle in his manner, placed a long,bony hand upon his shoulder.

  "Citizen Chauvelin," said the Incorruptible, with some degree ofdignified solemnity, "meseems that we very quickly understood oneanother this evening. Your own conscience, no doubt, gave you apremonition of what the purport of my summons to you would be. You saythat you always hoped the Revolutionary Government would give you onegreat chance to redeem your failure of last year. I, for one, alwaysintended that you should have that chance, for I saw, perhaps, justa little deeper into your heart than my colleagues. I saw not onlyenthusiasm for the cause of the People of France, not only abhorrencefor the enemy of your country, I saw a purely personal and deadly hateof an individual man--the unknown and mysterious Englishman who provedtoo clever for you last year. And because I believe that hatred willprove sharper and more far-seeing than selfless patriotism, therefore Iurged the Committee of Public Safety to allow you to work out your ownrevenge, and thereby to serve your country more effectually than anyother--perhaps more pure-minded patriot would do. You go to Englandwell-provided with all that is necessary for the success of your plans,for the accomplishment of your own personal vengeance. The RevolutionaryGovernment will help you with money, passports, safe conducts; itplaces its spies and agents at your disposal. It gives you practicallyunlimited power, wherever you may go. It will not enquire into yourmotives, nor yet your means, so long as these lead to success. Butprivate vengeance or patriotism, whatever may actuate you, we here inFrance demand you deliver into our hands the man who is known in twocountries as the Scarlet Pimpernel! We want him alive if possible,or dead if it must be so, and we want as many of his henchmen as willfollow him to the guillotine. Get them to France, and we'll know how todeal with them, and let the whole of Europe be damned."

  He paused for a while, his hand still resting on Chauvelin's shoulder,his pale green eyes holding those of the other man as if in a trance.But Chauvelin neither stirred nor spoke. His triumph left him quitecalm; his fertile brain was already busy with his plans. There was noroom for fear in his heart, and it was without the slightest tremor thathe waited for the conclusion of Robespierre's oration.

  "Perhaps, Citizen Chauvelin," said the latter at last, "you have alreadyguessed what there is left for me to say. But lest there should remainin your mind one faint glimmer of doubt or of hope, let me tell youthis. The Revolutionary Government gives you this chance of redeemingyour failure, but this one only; if you fail again, your outragedcountry will know neither pardon nor mercy. Whether you return to Franceor remain in England, whether you travel North, South, East or West,cross the Oceans, or traverse the Alps, the hand of an avenging Peoplewill be upon you. Your second failure will be punished by death,wherever you may be, either by the guillotine, if you are in France, orif you seek refuge elsewhere, then by the hand of an assassin.

  "Look to it, Citizen Chauvelin! for there will be no escape this time,not even if the mightiest tyrant on earth tried to protect you, not evenif you succeeded in building up an empire and placing yourself upon athrone."

  His thin, strident voice echoed weirdly in the small, close boudoir.Chauvelin made no reply. There was nothing that he could say. All thatRobespierre had put so emphatically before him, he had fully realised,even whilst he was forming his most daring plans.

  It was an "either--or" this time, uttered to HIM now. He thought againof Marguerite Blakeney, and the terrible alternative he had put beforeHER less than a year ago.

  Well! he was prepared to take the risk. He would not fail again. He wasgoing to England under more favourable conditions
this time. He knew whothe man was, whom he was bidden to lure to France and to death.

  And he returned Robespierre's threatening gaze boldly and unflinchingly;then he prepared to go. He took up his hat and cloak, opened the doorand peered for a moment into the dark corridor, wherein, in the fardistance, the steps of a solitary sentinel could be faintly heard: heput on his hat, turned to look once more into the room where Robespierrestood quietly watching him, and went his way.

  Chapter IV: The Richmond Gala