CHAPTER I

THE POISONING OF ATALANTA

Meanwhile, Lavenne, having watched the carriage containing Rochefort and Captain Roux taking its departure, turned and took his way to Rochefort’s rooms in the Rue de Longueville. The Rochefort affair was only an incident in his busy profession, yet whilst he was upon it, it held his whole life and ambition in life. He was made in such a manner, that the moment filled all his purview without blinding him. He could see the moment, yet he could also see consequences—that is to say, the future, and causes—that is to say, the past.

In his seven years’ work under Sartines, he had learned the fact that these social and political cases like that of Rochefort almost invariably produce, or are allied to, other cases, either engaging or soon to engage the attention of the police. Even in the spacious Court of France, people were too tightly packed for one to move in an eccentric manner without producing far-reaching disturbances, and he was soon to prove this fact in the case of M. de Rochefort.

Having reached Rochefort’s house, he was admitted by the concierge. He passed upstairs to the rooms occupied by the Count, ordered the valet to take his place on the stairs, and should any callers arrive, to show them up. Then, having shown his credentials as an agent of the Hôtel de Sartines, he began his perquisition.

There was nothing to find and he expected nothing, yet he proceeded on his business with the utmost care and the most painstaking minuteness.

In the middle of his work, he was interrupted by the valet, who knocked at the door.

“Monsieur,” said the valet, “there is a young girl who has called. She is waiting outside.”

“Ah, she is waiting—well, show her in.”

The man disappeared, and returned in a moment ushering in Javotte.

Lavenne looked up from some papers which he was examining. Javotte’s appearance rather astonished him. Young, fresh, and evidently respectable, he could not for a moment place her among possible visitors to Rochefort. Then it occurred to him that she might be the maid of some society woman sent with a message, and, without rising from his seat, he pointed to a chair.

“What is your business here, mademoiselle?” asked Lavenne.

“My business, monsieur, is to pay the last month’s wages of Monsieur de Rochefort’s valet. I have the money here with me. May I ask whom I have the pleasure of addressing?”

“You are addressing an agent of the Hôtel de Sartines. Place the money on the table, mademoiselle, and it shall be handed to the valet. And now a moment’s conversation with you, please. Who, may I ask, entrusted you with this commission?”

“Monsieur,” replied Javotte, “that is my business entirely.”

Lavenne leaned back in his chair.

“Mademoiselle, I am going to ask you a question. Are you a friend of Monsieur de Rochefort?”

“Indeed, I am, monsieur.”

“Well, then, if you are a friend of his, I may tell you that I also am his friend, though I am, at the present moment, making an examination of his effects. So in his interests please be frank with me.”

Javotte looked at the quiet and self-contained man before her. Youth and Innocence, those two great geniuses, proclaimed him trustworthy, and she cast away her reserve.

“Well, monsieur, what do you want me to say?”

“Just this, I want you to tell me what you know of this gentleman. What you say may not be worth a _denier_ to me, or it may be useful. You need say, moreover, nothing to his disadvantage, if you choose. Well?”

“I know nothing to his disadvantage, monsieur. He is the bravest man in the world, the most kind, and he saved me but the other night from two men who would have done me an injury——” Then catching fire, she told volubly the whole story of the occurrence on the night of the Duc de Choiseul’s ball.

Lavenne listened attentively.

Sartines had already given him Camus’ story of the killing of Choiseul’s agent. Javotte was now giving him the true story. He instantly saw the facts of the case, and the character of Camus.

“And you say, mademoiselle, that Monsieur de Rochefort, returning from the chase of those ruffians, one of whom he killed, by the way, found Monsieur Camus offering you an insult and struck him to the ground. Did Monsieur Camus not resent that action?”

“Monsieur, he did nothing, but he turned when he was going away and shook his finger at Monsieur de Rochefort.”

“Well, Mademoiselle Javotte, one question more: on whose service were you carrying that letter of which the robbers wished to relieve you? Speak without fear, whatever you say will do Monsieur de Rochefort no harm.”

“Monsieur, it was a letter addressed to Madame Dubarry.”

“Ah ha! That is all I wish to know. Well, say nothing of all this to anyone else, and should you have anything more to communicate to me, come to my private address, No. 10, Rue Picpus; ask for Monsieur Lavenne. That is my name. And remember this, as far as it is in my power, I am the friend of Monsieur de Rochefort.”

“Thank you, monsieur—and may I ask one question? Do you know where Monsieur de Rochefort is now, and is he safe?”

“I cannot tell you where he is, but I believe he is safe. In fact, I may be as frank with you as you have been with me, and say he is safe.”

“Thank you, monsieur.”

“One moment,” said Lavenne, as she rose to go. “May I ask your address, should I by any possibility need it?”

“I am in the service of Mademoiselle Fontrailles, monsieur.”

“Ah, you are in the service of Mademoiselle Fontrailles. Well, Mademoiselle Javotte, say nothing to anyone of our meeting, say nothing of our conversation, say nothing of Monsieur de Rochefort; but keep your eyes and ears open, and if you wish to serve Monsieur de Rochefort, let me have any news you may be able to bring me concerning him.”

“Now, I will swear that girl is in love with the Count,” said Lavenne to himself, when she had departed, “and the Count, according to my master, is in love with Mademoiselle Fontrailles, who has the reputation of being incapable of love. Mademoiselle Fontrailles is a bosom friend of Madame Dubarry, and Madame Dubarry’s letter it was which caused the agents of Monsieur de Choiseul to attack Mademoiselle Javotte, and Monsieur de Rochefort to kill one of those precious agents. Mademoiselle Javotte has already proved to me that Monsieur le Comte Camus has lied in giving his evidence against Monsieur de Rochefort. The case widens, like those circles that form when one throws a stone into a pond. Well, let it continue to widen, and we will see what we will see.”

He finished his examination of Rochefort’s rooms, paid the valet off, locked the place up and started for the Hôtel de Sartines.

Monsieur de Sartines was seated in the octagon chamber on the first floor; he was busy writing at the famous bureau of a hundred drawers, which contained in its recesses half the secrets of France, and which had belonged to his predecessor, Monsieur D’Ombreval.

He looked up when Lavenne was announced, finished the letter on which he was engaged, and then turned to the agent.

“Well,” said de Sartines, “what about Monsieur de Rochefort?”

“He is at Vincennes by this time, monsieur. The affair was a little difficult, but I made him see reason, and he made no objection to accompanying Captain Roux. I have examined his rooms and found nothing. I have also discovered that the evidence given against him by Count Camus is far from being truthful.”

He told of Javotte and her story in a few words.

“Quite so,” replied Sartines; “and you know perfectly well that it does not matter a button whether this agent was killed by foul or fair play, or whether Count Camus has lied or not. The case is just as bad against Monsieur Rochefort from Monsieur de Choiseul’s point of view, and that is everything. No matter, we have Rochefort in safe keeping.

“Now to another business. Prepare to start at once for Versailles. You will inquire into the poisoning of this dog, which has given me more trouble and annoyance than the poisoning of Monsieur de Choiseul himself would have given me. I have inquired into it personally. I have put Valjean on the affair; the matter is as dark as ever, so just see what you can make of it. Here are all the papers relating to the business, reports and so forth, study them on the way and use expedition.”

“Monsieur will give me a free hand in the matter?”

“Absolutely. And here is a thousand francs in gold; you may need money. Order a carriage for the journey, and tell them not to spare the horses. I am in a hurry for your report, find wings; but, above all, find the criminal.”

“Yes, monsieur. It will be a difficult matter. The poisoning of a man is a simple affair, the evidence simply shouts round it for the person who has ears to hear. A dog is different. But I will find the criminal—unless——”

“Unless?”

“Unless, monsieur, the dog poisoned itself by eating some garbage.”

“Oh, no. Atalanta was very delicate in her feeding. No, it was the work of some scoundrel, of that I am sure.”

“Well, monsieur, we will see,” said Lavenne.

He bowed to the Minister of Police, and left the room.