"You desire to declare?"
I enumerated the diamonds, and designated them as those lately stolen
from the crucifix of Louis XI.
Mornac handed me a printed certificate of deposit, opened a
compartment in the safe, and tossed in the bag without sealing it.
And, as I stood waiting, he lighted a scented cigarette, glanced over
at me, puffed once or twice, and finally dismissed me with a
discourteous nod.
I went, because he was Mornac; I thought that I was entitled to a
bureau receipt, but could scarcely demand one from the chief of the
entire department who had taken over the bureau solely in order to
reform it, root and branch. Doubtless his curt dismissal of me without
the customary receipt and his failure to seal the bag were two of his
reforms.
I limped off past the glittering steel cage, thankful that the jewels
were safe, turned into the corridor, and hastened back to my own
rooms.
To tear off my rags, bathe, shave, and dress in a light suit of
civilian clothes took me longer than usual, for I was a trifle lame.
Bath and clean clothes ought to have cheered me; but the contrary was
the case, and I sat down to a breakfast brought by a palace servant,
and ate it gloomily, thinking of Buckhurst, and the Countess, and of
Morsbronn, and of the muddy dead lying under the rifle smoke below my
turret window.
I thought, too, of that astonishing conspiracy which had formed under
the very shadow of the imperial throne, and through which already the
crucifix and diamonds of Louis XI. had been so nearly lost to France.
Who besides Buckhurst was involved? How far had Colonel Jarras gone in
the investigation during my absence? How close to the imperial throne
had the conspiracy burrowed?
Pondering, I slowly retraced my steps through the bedroom and
dressing-room, and out into the tiled hallway, where, at the end of
the dim corridor, the door of Colonel Jarras's bureau stood partly
open.
Jarras was sitting at his desk as I entered, and he gave me a
leaden-eyed stare as I closed the door behind me and stood at
attention.
For a moment he said nothing, but presently he partly turned his
ponderous body towards me and motioned me to a chair.
As I sat down I glanced around and saw my old comrade, Speed, sitting
in a dark corner, chewing a cigarette and watching me in alert
silence.
"You are present to report?" suggested Colonel Jarras, heavily.
I bowed, glancing across at Speed, who shrugged his shoulders and
looked at the floor with an ominous smile.
Mystified, I began my report, but was immediately stopped by Jarras
with a peevish gesture: "All right, all right; keep all that for the
Chief of Department. Your report doesn't concern me."
"Doesn't concern you!" I repeated; "are you not chief of this
bureau, Colonel Jarras?"
"No," snapped Jarras; "and there's no bureau now--at least no bureau
for the Foreign Division."
Speed leaned forward and said: "Scarlett, my friend, the Foreign
Division of the Imperial Military Police is not in favor just now. It
appears the Foreign Division is suspected."
"Suspected? Of what?"
"Treason, I suppose," said Speed, serenely.
I felt my face begin to burn, but the astonishing news left me
speechless.
"I said," observed Speed, "that the Foreign Division is suspected;
that is not exactly the case; it is not suspected, simply because it
has been abolished."
"Who the devil did that?" I asked, savagely.
"Mornac."
Mornac! The Emperor's shadow! Then truly enough it was all up with the
Foreign Division. But the shame of it!--the disgrace of as faithful a
body of police, mercenaries though they were, as ever worked for any
cause, good or bad.
"So it's the old whine of treason again, is it?" I said, while the
blood beat in my temples. "Oh, very well, doubtless Monsieur Mornac
knows his business. Are we transferred, Speed, or just kicked out into
the street?"
"Kicked out," replied Speed, rubbing his slim, bony hands together.
"And you, sir?" I asked, turning to Jarras, who sat with his fat,
round head buried in his shoulders, staring at the discolored blotter
on his desk.
The old Corsican straightened as though stung: "Since when, monsieur,
have subordinates assumed the right to question their superiors?"
I asked his pardon in a low voice, although I was no longer his
subordinate. He had been a good and loyal chief to us all; the least I
could do now was to show him respect in his bitter humiliation.
I think he felt our attitude and that it comforted him, but all he
said was: "It is a heavy blow. The Emperor knows best."
As we sat there in silence, a soldier came to summon Colonel Jarras,
and he went away, leaning on his ivory-headed cane, head bowed over
the string of medals on his breast.
When he had gone, Speed came over and shut the door, then shook hands
with me.
"He's gone to see Mornac; it will be our turn next. Look out for
Mornac, or he'll catch you tripping in your report. Did you find
Buckhurst?"
"Look here," I said, angrily, "how can Mornac catch me tripping? I'm
not under his orders."
"You are until you're discharged. You see, they've taken it into
their heads, since the crucifix robbery, to suspect everybody and
anybody short of the Emperor. Mornac came smelling around here the day
you left. He's at the bottom of all this--a nice business to cast
suspicion on our division because we're foreigners. Gad, he looks like
a pickpocket himself--he's got the oblique trick of the eyes and the
restless finger movement."
"Perhaps he is," I said.
Speed looked at me sharply.
"If I were in the service now I'd arrest Mornac--if I dared."
"You might as well arrest the Emperor," I said, wearily.
"That's it," observed Speed, throwing away his chewed cigarette.
"Nobody dare touch Mornac; nobody dare even watch him. But if there's
a leak somewhere, it's far more probable that Mornac did the dirty
work than that there's a traitor in our division."