But Charlot was busy stirring the other slumberers. He had found a whip, and with this he was now laying vigorously about him.
"Up, you swine!" he blazed at them. "Afoot, you drunken sc.u.m!"
His whip cracked, and his imprecations rang high and lurid. And La Boulaye a.s.sisted him in his labours with kicks and cuffs and a tongue no less vituperative.
At last they were on their feet--a pale, bewildered, shamefaced company--receiving from the infuriated Charlot the news that whilst they had indulged themselves in their drunken slumbers their prisoners had escaped and carried off the treasure with them. The news was received with a groan of dismay, and several turned to the door to ascertain for themselves whether it was indeed exact. The dreary emptiness of the rain-washed yard afforded them more than ample confirmation.
"Where is your pig of an ostler, Mother Capoulade?" demanded the angry Captain.
Quivering with terror, she answered him that the rascal should be in the shed by the stables, where it was his wont to sleep. Out into the rain, despite the scantiness of his attire, went Charlot, followed closely by La Boulaye and one or two stragglers. The shed proved empty, as Caron could have told him--and so, too, did the stables. Here, at the spot where Madame de Bellecour"s coachman had been left bound, the Captain turned to La Boulaye and those others that had followed him.
"It is the ostler"s work," he announced. "There was knavery and treachery writ large upon his ugly face. I always felt it, and this business proves how correct were my instincts. The rogue was bribed when he discovered how things were with you, you greasy sots. But you, La Boulaye," he cried suddenly, "were you drunk, too?"
"Not I," answered the Deputy.
"Then, name of a name, how came that lumbering coach to leave the yard without awakening you?"
"You ask me to explain too much," was La Boulaye"s cool evasion. "I have always accounted myself a light sleeper, and I could not have believed that such a thing could really have taken place without disturbing me.
But the fact remains that the coach has gone, and I think that instead of standing here in idle speculation as to how it went, you might find more profitable employment in considering how it is to brought back again. It cannot have gone very far."
If any ray of suspicion had begun to glimmer in Charlot"s brain, that suggestion of La Boulaye"s was enough to utterly extinguish it.
They returned indoors, and without more ado Tardivet set himself to plan the pursuit. He knew, he announced, that Prussia was their destination.
He had discovered it at the time of their capture from certain papers that he had found in a portmanteau of the Marquise"s. He discussed the matter with La Boulaye, and it was now that Caron had occasion to congratulate himself upon his wisdom in having elected to remain behind.
The Captain proposed to recall the fifty men that were watching the roads from France, and to spread them along the River Sambre, as far as Liege, to seek information of the way taken by the fugitives. As soon as any one of the parties struck the trail it was to send word to the others, and start immediately in pursuit.
Now, had Charlot been permitted to spread such a net as this, the Marquise must inevitably fall into it, and Caron had pledged his word that she should have an open road to Prussia. With a map spread upon the table he now expounded to the Captain how little necessity there was for so elaborate a scheme. The nearest way to Prussia was by Charleroi, Dinant, and Rochefort, into Luxembourg, and--he contended--it was not only unlikely, but incredible, that the Marquise should choose any but the shortest road to carry her out of Belgium, seeing the dangers that must beset her until the frontiers of Luxembourg were pa.s.sed.
"And so," argued La Boulaye, "why waste time in recalling your men?
Think of the captives you might miss by such an act! It were infinitely better advised to a.s.sume that the fugitives have taken the Charleroi-Dinant road, and to despatch, at once, say, half-a-dozen men in pursuit."
Tardivet pondered the matter for some moments.
"Yom are right," he agreed at last. "If they have resolved to continue their journey, a half-dozen men should suffice to recapture them. I will despatch these at once..."
La Boulaye looked up at that.
"If they have resolved to continue their journey?" he echoed. "What else should they have resolved?"
Tardivet stroked his reddish hair and smiled astutely.
"In organising a pursuit," said he, "the wise pursuer will always put himself in the place of the fugitives, and seek to reason as they would probably reason. Now, what more likely than that these ladies, or their coachman, or that rascally ostler, should have thought of doubling back into France? They might naturally argue that we; should never think of pursuing them in that direction. Similarly placed, that is how I should reason, and that is the course I should adopt, making for Prussia through Lorraine. Perhaps I do their intelligences too much honour--yet, to me, it seems such an obvious course.""
La Boulaye grew cold with apprehension. Yet impa.s.sively he asked:
"But what of your men who are guarding the frontiers?"
"Pooh! A detour might circ.u.mvent them. The Marquise might go as far north as Roubaix or Comines, or as fair south as Rocroy, or even Charlemont. Name of a name, but it is more than likely!" he exclaimed, with sudden conviction. "What do you say, Caron?"
"That you rave," answered La Boulaye coldly.
"Well, we shall see. I will despatch a message to my men, bidding them spread themselves as far north as Comiines and as far south as Charlemont. Should the fugitives have made such a detour as I suggested there will be ample time to take them."
La Boulaye still contemned the notion with a fine show of indifference, but Tardivet held to his purpose, and presently despatched the messengers as he had proposed. At that Caron felt his pulses quickening with anxiety for Mademoiselle. These astute measures must inevitably result im her capture--for was it not at Roubaix that he had bidden her await him? There was but one thing to be done, to ride out himself to meet her along the road from Soignies to Oudenarde, and to escort her into France. She should go ostensibly as his prisoner, and he was confident that not all the brigands of Captain Tardivet would suffice to take her from him.
Accordingly, he announced his intention of resuming his interrupted journey, and ordered his men to saddle and make ready. Meanwhile, having taken measures to recapture the Marquise should she have doubled back into France, Charlot was now organising an expedition to scour the road to Prussia, against the possibility of her having adhered to her original intention of journeying that way. Thus he was determined to take no risks, and leave her no loophole of escape.
Tardivet would have set himself at the head of the six hors.e.m.e.n of this expedition, but that La Boulaye interfered, and this time to some purpose. He a.s.sured the Captain that he was still far from recovered, and that to spend a day in the saddle might have the gravest of consequences for him.
"If the occasion demanded it," he concluded, "I should myself urge you to chance the matter of your health. But the occasion does not. The business is of the simplest, and your men can do as much without you as they could with you."
Tardivet permitted himself to be persuaded, and Caron had again good cause to congratulate himself that he had remained behind to influence him. He opined that the men, failing to pick up the trail at Charleroi, would probably go on as far as Dinant before abandoning the chase; then they would return to Boisvert to announce their failure, and by that time it would be too late to reorganise the pursuit. On the other hand, had Tardivet accompanied them, upon failing to find any trace of the Marquise at Charleroi, La Boulaye could imagine him pushing north along the Sambre, and pressing the peasantry into his service to form an impa.s.sable cordon.
And so, having won his way in this at least, and seen the six men set out under the command of Tardivet"s trusted Guyot, Caron took his leave of the Captain. He was on the very point of setting out when a courier dashed up to the door of the "Eagle," and called for a cup of wine. As it was brought him he asked the hostess whether the Citizen-deputy La Boulaye, Commissioner to the army of Dumouriez, had pa.s.sed that way.
Upon being informed that the Deputy was even then within the inn, the courier got down from his horse and demanded to be taken to him.
The hostess led him into the common-room, and pointed out the Deputy.
The courier heaved a sigh of relief, and removing his sodden cloak he bade the landlady get it dried and prepare him as stout a meal as her hostelry afforded.
"Name of a name!" he swore, as he pitched his dripping hat into a corner. "But it is good to find you at last, Citizen-deputy? I had expected to meet you at Valenciennes. But as you were not there, and as my letters were urgent, I have been compelled to ride for the past six hours through that infernal deluge. Enfin, here you are, and here is my letter--from the Citizen-deputy Maximilien Robespierre--and here I"ll rest me for the next six hours."
Bidding the fellow by all means rest and refresh himself, La Boulaye broke the seal, and read the following:
Dear Caron,
My courier should deliver you this letter as you are on the Point of reentering France, on your return from the mission which you have discharged with so much glory to yourself and credit to me who recommended you for the task. I make you my compliments on the tact and adroitness you have employed to bring this stubborn Dumouriez into some semblance of sympathy with the Convention.
And now, my friend, I have another task for you, which you can discharge on your homeward journey. You will make a slight detour, pa.s.sing into Artois and riding to the Chateau d"Ombreval, which is situated some four miles south of Arras. Here I wish you not only to Possess yourself of the person of the ci-devant Vicomte d"Ombreval, bringing him to Paris as your Prisoner, but further, to make a very searching investigation of that aristocrat"s papers, securing any doc.u.ments that you may consider of a nature treasonable to the French Republic, One and Indivisible.
The letter ended with the usual greetings and Robespierre"s signature.
La Boulaye swore softly to himself as he folded the epistle.
"It seems," he muttered to Charlot, "that I am to turn catch-poll in the service of the Republic."
"To a true servant of the Nation," put in the courier, who had overheard him, "all tasks that may tend to the advancement of the Republic should be eagerly undertaken. Diable! Have not I ridden in the rain these six hours past?"
La Boulaye paid no heed to him; he was too inured to this sort of insolence since the new rule had levelled all men. But Charlot turned slowly to regard the fellow.
He was a tall man of rather slender stature, but indifferently dressed in garments that were splashed from head to foot with mud, and from which a steam was beginning to rise as he stood now with his back to the fire. Charlot eyed him so narrowly that the fellow shifted his position and dropped his glance in some discomfort. His speech, though rough of purport, had not been ungentle of delivery. But his face was dirty--the sure sign of an ardent patriot--his hair hung untidy about his face, and he wore that latest abomination of the ultra-revolutionist, a dense black beard and moustache.
"My friend," said Charlot, "although we are ready to acknowledge you our equal, we should like you to understand that we do not take lessons in duty even from our equals. Bear you that in mind if you seek to have a peaceful time while you are here, for it so happens that I am quartered at this inn, and have a more important way with me than this good-natured Deputy here."
The fellow darted Charlot a malevolent glance.
"You talk of equality and you outrage equality in a breath," he growled.
"I half suspect you of being a turncoat aristocrat." And he spat ostentatiously on the ground.