Part 11 (2/2)
”What about the man who was robbed, this aristocrat you found at Tremont?”
”Safe in Beauvais, citizen, where he is likely to remain. I put fear into him at Tremont and he ran.”
”He may come to Paris.”
”Then he is easily dealt with,” Sabatier answered, and went out.
He was a friend of Citizen Latour, a trusted friend; his swagger was greater than ever as he went down the Rue Valette.
Half an hour later Raymond Latour pa.s.sed along the street, avoiding publicity rather than courting it. He walked quickly until he came to the Rue St. Honore, when his pace slackened a little and he grew more thoughtful. His whole scheme was complete, and he reviewed every point of it to make certain there was no flaw in it. He became suddenly conscious of a man walking in front of him, one of many in the street yet distinct from them all. He was slight, so slight that he seemed tall, walked delicately, something feminine about him, a weak man, perhaps, whom strong men would despise; yet heads were turned to look after him, and a second glance found something definite and determined in the delicate walk, something feline. He went forward noticing none, straight forward, men of bigger bulk stepping out of his path. Latour, whose thoughts were of self just now, not of country, went more slowly still. He had no desire to overtake this man although he knew him well, and dawdled until he saw him enter a cabinet-maker's shop. All Paris knew that here Maximilian Robespierre had his lodging.
Latour quickened his pace and entered a house at the corner of a side street. Yes, his master, the Citizen Bruslart was in, was the answer to his inquiry, and the suspicion of a smile touched Latour's face at the man's hesitation. After waiting a few moments he was announced, and smiled again a little as he entered a room on the first floor, it was so unlike his own, even as the occupant was unlike him.
”You favor me by this visit,” said Bruslart, rising to welcome his guest.
”You have not yet heard the reason of it.”
If Latour expected his host to show any sign of anxiety he was disappointed, and it was the man's nature to respect courage even in an enemy. He hardly counted Bruslart as such, outwardly indeed they were friends. Had Lucien Bruslart been a coward he would hardly have occupied such an apartment as this and surrounded himself with so much luxury.
There was danger in luxury, yet it was a part of the man, fitted him, was essential to him. He called himself citizen, sought the society of patriots, talked as loudly as any. He had talked to such purpose that, arrested and imprisoned as a dangerous aristocrat, he had been released and welcomed as a true son of Paris. For all this, he was an aristocrat to his finger tips, hated the very atmosphere of a true patriot, and washed their touch from his hands with disgust. His own interests were his paramount concern, he was clever enough to deceive friends and foes as it suited him; even Latour was doubtful how to place him. He was a handsome man, and had found that count for something even in Revolutionary Paris; he was a determined man, with wit, and that art of appearing to hide nothing. An aristocrat! By the misfortune of birth that was all. A patriot! It was a safe profession. Luxury! Why not?
”Is my country in need of my services?”
”Always; but this happens to be a private matter,” Latour answered.
”You have been in the Conciergerie, citizen.”
”It is not very long since I was released,” was the answer.
”Fear touched you in the Conciergerie.”
”Narrow walls and uncertainty are unpleasant. You will know what I mean if you should ever be as unfortunate as I was.”
”And a servant, fearful for your safety, fled to your friends for help.
Is that so?”
”I have heard it since my release. He is a faithful fellow, and acted on his own initiative.”
”Entirely?” asked Latour.
”Entirely. Let me be fair to him. I do not fear danger, citizen, but I have eyes to see its existence. It exists for honest men as well as others, and I have said to Rouzet, that was his name, 'If harm should come to me try and carry news to those who still love me in spite of the fact that I have turned patriot,' I even gave him a little gold trinket that it might be known his news was true.”
”Since your release have you sent another messenger to prevent Mademoiselle St. Clair from coming to Paris?”
”She is coming to Paris!” Bruslart exclaimed, half rising.
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