El Dorado by Baroness Orczy (if you liked this book .txt) 📕

expedition tomorrow. This Sir Percy does not yet know; but it will come as a pleasant surprise for him. At the slightest suspicion of false play on Sir Percy’s part, at his slightest attempt at escape, your life and that of your sister are forfeit; you will both be summarily shot before his eyes. I do not think that I need be more precise, eh, citizen St. Just?”

The young man was quivering with passion. A terrible loathing for himself, for his crime which had been the precursor of this terrible situation, filled his soul to the verge of sheer physical nausea. A red film gathered before his eyes, and through it he saw the grinning face of the inhuman monster who had planned this hideous, abominable thing. It seemed to him as if in the silence and the hush of the night, above the feeble, flickering flame that threw weird shadows around, a group of devils were surrounding him, and were shouting, “Kill him! Kill him now! Rid the earth of this hellish brute!”

No doubt if Chauvelin had exhibited the slightest sign of fear, if he had moved an inch towards the door, Armand, blind with passion, driven to madness by agonising remorse more even than by rage, would have sprung at his enemy’s throat and crushed the life out of him as he would out of a venomous beast. But the man’s calm, his immobility, recalled St. Just to himself. Reason, that had almost yielded to passion again, found strength to drive the enemy back this time, to whisper a warning, an admonition, even a reminder. Enough harm, God knows, had been done by tempestuous passion already. And God alone knew what terrible consequences its triumph now might bring in its trial, and striking on Armand’s buzzing ears Chauvelin’s words came back as a triumphant and mocking echo:

“He’ll be a dead man at dawn if I do not put in an appearance by six o’clock.”

The red film lifted, the candle flickered low, the devils vanished, only the pale face of the Terrorist gazed with gentle irony out of the gloom.

“I think that I need not detain you any longer, citizen, St. Just,” he said quietly; “you can get three or four hours’ rest yet before you need make a start, and I still have a great many things to see to. I wish you good night, citizen.”

“Good night,” murmured Armand mechanically.

He took the candle and escorted his visitor back to the door. He waited on the landing, taper in hand, while Chauvelin descended the narrow, winding stairs.

There was a light in the concierge’s lodge. No doubt the woman had struck it when the nocturnal visitor had first demanded admittance. His name and tricolour scarf of office had ensured him the full measure of her attention, and now she was evidently sitting up waiting to let him out.

St. Just, satisfied that Chauvelin had finally gone, now turned back to his own rooms.

XL God Help Us All

He carefully locked the outer door. Then he lit the lamp, for the candle gave but a flickering light, and he had some important work to do.

Firstly, he picked up the charred fragment of the letter, and smoothed it out carefully and reverently as he would a relic. Tears had gathered in his eyes, but he was not ashamed of them, for no one saw them; but they eased his heart, and helped to strengthen his resolve. It was a mere fragment that had been spared by the flame, but Armand knew every word of the letter by heart.

He had pen, ink and paper ready to his hand, and from memory wrote out a copy of it. To this he added a covering letter from himself to Marguerite:

This⁠—which I had from Percy through the hands of Chauvelin⁠—I neither question nor understand.⁠ ⁠… He wrote the letter, and I have no thought but to obey. In his previous letter to me he enjoined me, if ever he wrote to me again, to obey him implicitly, and to communicate with you. To both these commands do I submit with a glad heart. But of this must I give you warning, little mother⁠—Chauvelin desires you also to accompany us tomorrow.⁠ ⁠… Percy does not know this yet, else he would never start. But those fiends fear that his readiness is a blind⁠ ⁠… and that he has some plan in his head for his own escape and the continued safety of the Dauphin.⁠ ⁠… This plan they hope to frustrate through holding you and me as hostages for his good faith. God only knows how gladly I would give my life for my chief⁠ ⁠… but your life, dear little mother⁠ ⁠… is sacred above all.⁠ ⁠… I think that I do right in warning you. God help us all.

Having written the letter, he sealed it, together with the copy of Percy’s letter which he had made. Then he took up the candle and went downstairs.

There was no longer any light in the concierge’s lodge, and Armand had some difficulty in making himself heard. At last the woman came to the door. She was tired and cross after two interruptions of her night’s rest, but she had a partiality for her young lodger, whose pleasant ways and easy liberality had been like a pale ray of sunshine through the squalor of everyday misery.

“It is a letter, citoyenne,” said Armand, with earnest entreaty, “for my sister. She lives in the Rue de Charonne, near the fortifications, and must have it within an hour; it is a matter of life and death to her, to me, and to another who is very dear to us both.”

The concierge threw up her hands in horror.

“Rue de Charonne, near the fortifications,” she exclaimed, “and within an hour! By the Holy Virgin, citizen, that is impossible. Who will take it? There is no way.”

“A way must be found, citoyenne,” said Armand firmly, “and at once; it is not far, and there are five golden louis waiting