Best Short Stories Omnibus - Volume 2

Chapter II

Chapter IIAbout a week after the events recorded in the last chapter, five men were sitting in Citizen Deroulède’s comfortably furnished study, round a table covered with a green cloth and encumbered with cards, counters, and the usual accessories that arc necessary for a game of hazard. Though each held in his hand a few cards, and from time to time made a jerky attempt at following some sort of game, it was nevertheless quite obvious that these five men were discussing other matters than the hazards of baccarat or the latest production at the “Molière.” The face of each looked anxious and careworn, and all of them started visibly at the slightest sound behind the heavily curtained door or closely shuttered windows.

The host himself, a powerful, well-built figure, with handsome, refined features, so well known in the assemblies of the “Convention,” seemed eager, alert, watchful, and his strong fist was doubled up on the table with a gesture of determination and energy.

“We must succeed this time,” he said. “I see no eventuality to stop us. We five who have planned this thing are alone to know of it. We cannot, we shall not fail.”

“At any rate, there is no chance of a traitor among us,” said one of the guests. “Money is plentiful; our measures are well taken. There is only the great, the difficult task of apprising the unfortunate Queen of the means we have devised for her escape, and of conveying to her the necessary funds.”

“As you all know,” said Deroulède, “fate has wonderfully favored us. I am on duty as governor at the Conciergerie after to-morrow, and though I can never have long talks with her Majesty—whom may God preserve and protect!—yet I can always slip money and letters into her hand.”

“In the meanwhile, are the letters and money safe in your house?”

“Safely locked up in that desk,” said Deroulède reassuringly. “My mother has our cause as much to heart as any of us, and our two Auvergnat servants, terrified though they are into a semblance of republicanism, are staunch to the holy cause, and devoted slaves to my mother and myself.”

“But, Citizen Deroulède,” said one of the guests, an oldish man, somewhat tentatively, “you have a visitor in your house. What of her?”

“The daughter of a good Royalist who died for his convictions,” said Deroulède rapidly; “a girl who nearly met with a terrible death through a foolhardy exhibition of her principles, in the open streets; moreover,” he added fervently, “one of God’s most beautiful creatures, full of guilelessness and innocence.”

A smile went round the faces of those assembled; but evidently Deroulède had succeeded in reassuring them. No doubt the girl was his fiancée, or almost so, and as such there would be no cause for the fear of her indiscretion.

The hour was getting late, and all that was necessary had been fully discussed. The four men prepared to leave, and were wrapping themselves in their mantles and cloaks while shaking hands with their host.

“Will you, for our own satisfaction,” said one, “let us assure ourselves with our very eyes that the letters and money are absolutely safe? It is a great responsibility on such young shoulders as yours, Citizen Deroulède, to conduct this great affair almost single-handed.”

“I know no fear,” said Deroulede proudly; “and here,” he added, taking a key from his breast pocket and unlocking his desk, “is the casket that contains all that is needed to place our beloved Queen out of the clutches of the bloodthirsty tigers who——”

He paused; the casket was still in his hand. All heads were turned, terror-stricken, toward the door, which had been gently and silently opened.

“Mme. Deroulède has desired me to ask monsieur if she should send in some refreshments for his friends before they leave.”

Juliette’s figure was standing in the doorway, one tiny hand holding back the heavy draperies that framed her like a picture. As well have suspected one of the saints of Notre Dame to harbor thoughts of treachery or even indiscretion, as this sweet face, all youth and girlishness.

Deroulède smiled, reassured, and with deliberation and calmness replaced the casket in his desk, and once more turned the key. The others seemed to have conquered their fright.

Juliette, after hearing Deroulède’s thanks, again retired, and the five men were once more alone.

Not one of them made any comment on the little incident that had so much disturbed them, and their host seemed anxious not to provoke any.

Ah! had they but been gifted with second sight, or had the bandage of wilful blindness been torn away from their host's eyes, the bandage placed there by the most beautiful hands in Paris, their quietude would not have been of long duration. Juliette had paused one instant outside the door, her hand pressed against her heart, as if to repress its very beating. A look of triumph, of exultation, aye, of vengeance satisfied, distorted for a moment those Madonna-like features.

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