Chapter 15

Under Watch and Ward.

As soon as breakfast ended my arms were bound again, and Francois took his departure, leaving me with Pillot, who could not conceal his amusement at my plight.

"Pardon me, monsieur," said he laughing, "it is comical! You expected to trap Francois, and behold, you are caught yourself!"

I tried to look at the rascal sternly, but the humour of the thing tickled me so, that I joined in the laugh myself. Truly I had gone out for wool, and should return shorn!

"Tell me," said I presently, "am I forbidden to ask questions?"

"Why, no! Indeed it would be impossible to stop monsieur, unless a gag were placed in his mouth," and thinking, probably, of the incident at La Boule d'Or, he showed his teeth in a broad grin.

"A truce to your mummery," I cried; "will you answer my questions?"

"I do not remember that monsieur has asked any?"

"Well, here is one. How long am I to be kept in this den?"

"It is impossible to say precisely, but monsieur will not continue to occupy this apartment for more than a day or two."

"A day or two?" I thought my ears must have played me false. Noticing my surprise, he added, "Monsieur will have done his part by that time."

"What will happen then?"

"Ah!" said he, shrugging his shoulders and raising his eyes, "who can tell? We are all in the hands of Providence."

"True, my friend, but I am also in the hands of De Retz, which is hardly as pleasant. It seems that I have suddenly become a person of some consequence!"

"Sufficiently important to have made many enemies, monsieur!"

"De Retz among them?"

"Chut! no; he would be pleased to call you his friend. I was thinking of personal enemies like M. Peleton and the Baron Maubranne. The Abbe and M. de Lalande will only use you for the good of the Cause; but I distrust the others."

"The good of the Cause? You speak in riddles, my friend!"

"It is necessary, monsieur; as it is, I have spoken too much."

"But you will answer one other question? Why did that wretched Francois prowl about the Rue Crillon?"

Pillot burst into a peal of such merry laughter that I thought he would be choked, and it was long before he could reply.

"Pardon me, monsieur," he exclaimed at length, "but really the joke was excellent. Francois acted the spy only when you were about; and simply to attract your attention. He was the bait, and you--pardon the expression--were the fish, though I, for one, did not expect to see you landed so easily."

Pillot's explanation made the affair a trifle plainer, and showed how foolishly I had acted. Instead of being a stupid dolt, this Francois was really a clever fellow, who had tricked me admirably. My cheeks burned as I saw what a dupe I had been. As a matter of fact, he could have slipped away at any moment, instead of which he had purposely lured me on. His hesitation at the corner of the _cul-de-sac_, his apparent attempt to dash past me, his whining answers, all had their purpose, and, while I reckoned myself master of the situation, Pillot and the third man were creeping out of their hiding-places. Truly, I had myself been a stupid dolt!

Still there was one point which puzzled me, and I asked Pillot why the fellow waited so long before playing his trick.

"Francois obeys orders," he replied. "It would not have suited our purpose to have shut you up before last night."

This sounded mysterious, but Pillot would not enlighten me further, and alone I could make nothing of it. Except on one point, the dwarf talked freely enough, and was a very agreeable gaoler. A true child of Paris, he knew the city well, and having been mixed up in all sorts of adventures, was able to relate numerous startling stories. The time passed pleasantly enough till about eleven o'clock, when he went away, and his place was taken by the man called Pierre.

At first I was rather glad of the change, imagining this fellow might be more simple, as indeed he was; so simple, in fact, that he knew nothing. He was a short man with a massive head, thick neck, broad shoulders, and limbs like those of a gladiator. He sniffed contemptuously at the pistols which Pillot had left, but handled a huge iron-shod club lovingly, and on being spoken to, grunted like a pig. Sitting on the straw, he laid the club beside him, and, having cleared a space, produced a dice-box and dice, with which he played left hand against right.

After watching this monotonous game for half-an-hour, and finding Pierre absolutely deaf to my questions, I turned my face to the wall and tried to think. Pillot's conversation had explained many things, but unfortunately it threw no light on the reason for my imprisonment. He had not denied that De Retz was the man behind the curtain, but what was it the Abbe wished me to do?

The more I puzzled the more mysterious the affair looked. I invented a thousand reasons, all more or less fantastic and absurd, till my mind grew wearied with thinking. Meanwhile, Pierre sat on his heap of straw calmly playing his ridiculous game, calling out the numbers as the dice fell, but keenly alive to the slightest sound.

Thus miserably the afternoon wore away; the room grew dark; Pierre packed up his dice, and, walking to the barred window, peered into the darkness. I wondered whether Raoul or John Humphreys had called at my rooms, and if so, what they would think of my sudden disappearance.

Presently, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps; the door was unfastened, and Pillot entered with a couple of candles stuck in broken bottles, which only served to make the place more dreary than before. Then Francois followed with some supper, and after he and Pierre had departed, my gaoler did the honours of the table--or rather the floor--like a generous host bent on pleasing his guest to the utmost.

He was rather excited, and talked so freely that I hoped to worm some information out of him, but the rascal guarded his tongue well, only letting fall a hint that we might take a long journey on the following night. Still I gathered from his air of mystery, and the importance he displayed, that the plot--whatever its nature--was rapidly ripening.

"Now, monsieur," he observed, when we had finished supper, "I shall leave you to the care of Francois. Remember my warning, and do not attempt to escape, because it is useless. If all goes well we shall be able to provide you with better accommodation in a day or two. Meanwhile, you have only to enjoy yourself, and to thank the kind friends who are keeping you out of mischief."

Having finished this pretty speech he took his departure, the door was fastened, and Francois began his watch for the night. Afraid, perhaps, of falling asleep, he stalked up and down the room, stopping occasionally beside my bed to hope that monsieur found himself well. Francois was more polished than Pierre, and certainly replied to my questions. Only, whatever I asked, he answered, "I am truly sorry, monsieur, but I do not know."

The fellow might have been a talking bird that had been taught to repeat but one sentence. As a last effort I offered him a heavy bribe for his information, but he was too honest to betray his trust, or, which was just as probable, he had no wares of any marketable value.

I slept that night by fits and starts, but whether asleep or awake my mind was filled with omens of evil. What was happening in the outside world? Again and again I asked the question without finding any answer.

Spurred on by my fears, I began to dream of escape, but the adventure was so absolutely impossible that I had to abandon the idea. My arms were tightly bound; Francois walked up and down, ever watchful and alert, carrying his half pike; outside the door lay Pierre with his huge club, while Pillot was within call; and I had a suspicion that he was not the least capable of my gaolers. No, it was evident that I must wait till a more favourable opportunity presented itself.

I watched the earliest streaks of light streaming through the barred window, and, though it was summer time, I shivered with cold. The dawn broadened, became morning; a few wandering sunbeams that had lost their way came peeping through the bars and cheered me, though their stay was brief. Later, sounds of life arose outside; I heard Pierre's deep tones, followed by Pillot's milder ones, and presently the door was opened.

Now, had my arms been free at this moment I would have made a dash for liberty, in spite of Pierre's club and Pillot's pistols, but, in the circumstances, it was madness to think of such a venture; so I lay still. Francois by now was almost too sleepy to walk straight, and Pillot, bright, fresh, alert as a bird, entered on the duties of gaoler.

The prisoner who feeds with his keeper is not likely to starve, and I certainly cannot accuse my captors of being niggardly in the matter of food. On this particular morning Pillot was too agitated to eat; twice he jumped up and walked to the window; indeed, but for my exertions, the breakfast would have been removed untasted. As it chanced, my appetite remained good, and, in view of the possible journey, I ate for both.

Only once during the day did Pillot leave the room, and then his place was taken by Pierre, who, in less than three minutes, was deep in his usual game of throwing the dice, left hand against right. To do the villain justice, however, he did not neglect his duty. His eyes were upon me frequently, while at the slightest stir, he turned quick as lightning, one hand grasping his ponderous club.

Toward the middle of the afternoon Pillot returned, and kept me company for the remainder of the day. He was deeply excited, and as the evening approached began to bubble over. He would break off in the middle of a sentence, and, running to the window, listen intently, holding up his hand meanwhile for silence. Francois, too, who came in once or twice, seemed equally agitated, but Pierre, I have no doubt, was calmly playing, interested chiefly in the result of his game. Perhaps he did not understand why the others were so anxious, or why they spoke to each other in low whispers!

As for me, I soon became as deeply interested as Pillot. Why did he listen at the window? Did he expect to hear some pre-arranged signal, or the rattle of the carriage which was to bear me away?

Once I nearly tricked him into betraying the secret. He had dispatched Francois on some errand, and was pacing the room restlessly, when I said at a venture, and in a careless tone, "So the grand coup is to be made to-night?"

"This very evening, monsieur!" and he rubbed his hands briskly.

"It will cause an immense sensation?"

"A sensation? _Corbleu!_ There will be----" He checked himself, looked at me slily, and finished by saying, "Ah, yes, monsieur, perhaps so." Then he returned to the window to listen; so my attempt to catch him by surprise had failed.

Another hour passed, Francois had returned, and the two stood talking rapidly but in such low tones that I could not catch a word. To judge by their gestures, Francois was the bearer of fresh news, but whether good or evil I could not determine. It was, however, evidently of considerable significance, and such as to astonish the dwarf.

This secrecy and show of excitement played on my nerves. I became restless and irritable, and chafed more and more at my confinement. Whatever was about to happen, I wished it was over and done with.

The evening wore on, it became dusk, in an hour or two night would fall; but still, as far as I was concerned, there was no change. The two men maintained their position at the window; but they no longer talked; it seemed as if they could only wait. The silence became painful; there was not a sound in the half darkened room; I wondered if my gaolers had forgotten how to breathe. I rustled the straw: they turned swiftly, and Pillot shook his head as if to reprove the action, but he did not speak.

Presently Francois said something in a low whisper to his companion, and the dwarf in a sort of hoarse scream cried, "Be still. It must be now, I tell you; it was all arranged this afternoon."

After this neither of them spoke, but both stood still and motionless, till suddenly there came to our ears the sounds of hurrying footsteps in the street. It was a relief to hear them, even if the runner had nothing to do with me. They came nearer and nearer; the pace slackened; finally some one stopped beneath the window. Evidently this was the man for whom my captors watched. What news did he bring? Pillot himself could not have waited more anxiously than I did to hear the tidings. I felt sure that in some mysterious way my fate hinged on the words of this unknown messenger.

Very quietly I raised my head from the straw and listened with strained ears. No sound save the heavy breathing of its occupants broke the stillness of the room. At last I seemed likely to hear something which would afford a clue to the mystery; but here again I met with disappointment. Only one word came from the man in the street, and I was scarcely wiser than before.

"Failed!" he said, and immediately began to whistle the air of a popular song, which probably conveyed some information to the dwarf.

Muttering savagely, Pillot ordered the messenger to bring the carriage round, and, turning to me, said more calmly, "Monsieur, the plot has miscarried, and you must leave Paris. I cannot explain further, but you have no choice. Come with me quietly, or----" and he raised his pistol.

My head began to swim again. The plot had failed! What plot? What had I to do with it? Why should these people wish to carry me off? Afterwards, when the truth came out, the affair seemed simple, so simple, that I was ready to laugh at my own stupidity. I tried to obtain some information, but Pillot stopped me promptly. I had never seen him so thoroughly roused; he dug his nails viciously into the palms of his hands; his eyes looked like those of a hunted animal.

"Quick! There is no time to argue. It is a case of life and death for you and me, and perhaps for many besides. I wish you no harm, monsieur! I will save your life if you will let me."

"Set me free," said I, "and I will save my own."

"I cannot do that--for the sake of others."

Francois had disappeared, but Pierre was in the room, and he toyed nervously with his club. I do not know how the dwarf would have acted, but there was no mistaking his companion's purpose.

"An end to this," he exclaimed. "Come, monsieur--or stay!" and he flourished his huge weapon threateningly.

"It is best, monsieur; it is really best," cried the dwarf. "Ah, _corbleu_, it is too late! Listen! There are the soldiers! Oh, monsieur, what can I do?"

"Bah!" said Pierre, raising his club, "it is his life or ours."

At that moment Francois, whose face was livid with fear and passion, burst into the room.

"Fly!" cried he, "fly, while you have the chance!"

"Is it the soldiers?" asked Pillot.

"No, worse! Conde's ragamuffins, and they are yelling for M. de Lalande."

At these words I was speechless with amazement, but Pillot cried, "The people? Conde's mob, did you say, Francois? Then there has been treachery. This is Peleton's work; he wishes to find revenge and safety at one time. Unbind the prisoner, Pierre. Quick, you dolt! I am no murderer, as M. Peleton will find. Monsieur, I give you a chance of your life let what will come of it. Francois, a sword! Here, monsieur, this way, and the saints preserve us!"

I was free and armed: the door was open; yet I had never stood so near death since my first coming to Paris. From the terrible uproar one would have concluded that the inhabitants of every alley in the city had gathered outside. The street door was being smashed by heavy blows, and, as I ran out on the landing, a fierce mob swarmed up the stairs, screaming, yelling, and shouting for De Lalande.

There was no time to ask questions or even to think. Carried away by passion, the people were thirsting for my blood, though why, I could not imagine. Was this a part of the plot too? What did it all mean? No one had ever called me a coward, but at that moment my limbs trembled, and perspiration oozed from every pore. The cries of the mob were more awful than the roar of some savage beast.

"Quick!" cried Pillot, "it is an affair of seconds," and then every sound was drowned in a fierce shout of "Where is he? Death to the assassin! Kill them all!"

"No, no," exclaimed one voice, louder than the rest, "the others may be honest folk! Only one came in. I saw him! I shall know him! You can tell him by his gay dress!"

"That is Peleton, the scoundrel!" said Pillot "If you are killed now, he will be safe," and the dwarf hurried me along.

With bull-dog courage Pierre and Francois stood at the head of the stairs, demanding to know why their house was invaded, and denying that any one had recently entered.

"A lie! A lie!" shouted Peleton from lower down. "I chased him all the way, and saw him enter here!"

"Stand aside," commanded a second man, "and let us search the house, or it will be the worse for you!"

Pierre and Francois were both sturdy fellows, but they could not have held the stairway long, and besides, why should they sacrifice their lives for me?

From where we were the mob was out of sight, and we could not perceive what was going on, but it seemed as if they hesitated, when suddenly the cry of "The soldiers" was raised. Then, making his final effort, Peleton urged the mob on with renewed shouts of "Kill the assassin!"

At the end of the passage three steps led down to a room, the door of which was locked, but Pillot possessed the key. We could hear the crowd rushing up the stairs and on to the landing; another moment and we should be too late, but my companion, who had recovered from his nervousness, succeeded in opening the door.

"The window!" he exclaimed, pushing me forward. "Quick! I will put up the bars and follow."