THE SEARCH.
Maurice had returned to his post in the garden, opposite the window of
Geneviève, only it was now quite dark, she having left her apartment to
enter that of the Chevalier.
It was time Maurice returned, for scarcely had he reached the corner
of the conservatory when the garden-door opened, and the man in gray
appeared, followed by Lorin, and five or six gendarmes.
"Well?" asked Lorin.
"You see I am at my post," said Maurice.
"And no one has attempted to force past you?" said Lorin.
"No one," replied Maurice, happy to escape by an evasion, from the way
in which the question was put to him. "No one. And what have you done?"
"Why, we have acquired the certainty that the Chevalier entered the
house an hour ago, and has not left it since," replied the agent of
police.
"Do you know his chamber?" said Lorin.
"His room is only separated from that of Madame Dixmer by a corridor."
"Ah! ah!" said Lorin. "It appears this Chevalier de Maison-Rouge is a
gallant."
Maurice felt the hot blood rush to his forehead; he closed his eyes,
yet saw a thousand internal lights.
"Well, but Citizen Dixmer, what said he to that?" asked Lorin.
"Why, he thought himself highly honored."
"Come," said Maurice, in a choking voice; "upon what do we decide?"
"We have decided," said the police agent, "to arrest him in his
chamber, perhaps in his bed."
"He does not, then, suspect anything?"
"Absolutely nothing?"
"What is the ground plan?" inquired Lorin.
"We have an exact plan," said the man in gray. "A pavilion situated
at a corner of the garden, there it is; you ascend four steps--do you
see them here?--and find yourself on a landing; to the right is the
apartment of Madame Dixmer,--no doubt it is that of which we see the
window. Facing this window, at the back part, is a door opening on
the corridor, and in this corridor the entrance to the chamber of the
traitor."
"Well, with so careful a specimen of topography," said Lorin, "we
might, I think, easily find our way blindfold, much more with our eyes
open. Come on!"
"Are the streets well guarded?" said Maurice, with an interest which
the assistants very naturally attributed to his fear lest the Chevalier
should escape.
"The streets, the passages, even the crossings," said the man in gray.
"I defy any one to pass who has not the watchword."
Maurice shuddered; all these precautions being taken, made him fear
that he had uselessly parted with his honor to add to his happiness.
"Now," said the man in gray, "how many men do you require to secure the
Chevalier?"
"How many men?" said Lorin. "I hope Maurice and I are sufficient for
that. Are we not, Maurice?"
"Yes," murmured the municipal, "we are certainly sufficient."
"Listen!" said the police agent; "no vain boasting. Do you mean to take
him?"
"Zounds! Do we mean it?" said Lorin; "I should think so! We are
bound to take him, are we not, Maurice?" Lorin laid a stress upon
these words, for as he had truly said, suspicion began to settle
upon them; and it was not wise to allow time for suspicion, which
marched with such rapid strides at this epoch, to assume a firmer
consistence, for Lorin well knew that no one would presume to doubt
the stanch patriotism of any two men who had captured the Chevalier de
Maison-Rouge.
"Well, then," said the police agent, "if you are in earnest, better
take three men than two, and four than three, with you. The Chevalier
invariably sleeps with pistols under his pillow, and his sword on a
table by his side."
"Deuce take it!" said one of the gendarmes of Lorin's company. "Let
us go in, without standing on ceremony who should enter first. If he
resists, we will cut him to pieces; if he surrender, we will reserve
him for the guillotine."
"Well said!" exclaimed Lorin; "do we go in by the door or the window?"
"By the door," said the agent of police; "it may be the key is in the
lock, while if we enter by the window we must break some panes, and
that would make a noise."
"On for the door, then!" said Lorin; "as long as we enter, it little
matters how. Forward! sword in hand, Maurice."
Maurice mechanically drew his sword from the scabbard, and the little
troop advanced toward the pavilion. The information of the man in gray
proved perfectly correct; they first found the steps, then the landing,
and at last entered the vestibule.
"Ah!" cried Lorin, joyfully, "the key is in the door." In short,
extending his hand in the dark, his fingers had encountered the cold
key.
"Then open it, Citizen Lieutenant," said the man in gray.
Lorin cautiously turned the key in the lock. The door opened. Maurice
wiped the perspiration from his brow.
"We shall find him here," said Lorin.
"Not yet," said the man in gray; "if our chart is correct, this is the
apartment of Citizeness Dixmer."
"We can soon ascertain that," said Lorin; "light a wax candle; there is
some fire in the grate."
"Light the torches," said the man in gray, "they are not so soon
extinguished as candles," at the same time taking two torches from the
hand of a gendarme, which he lighted by the dying embers. He placed one
in the hand of Maurice, the other in that of Lorin. "You see," said he,
"I was not deceived; here is the door opening into Citizeness Dixmer's
sleeping apartment, and here the one opening into the corridor."
"On, for the corridor!" said Lorin. They opened the door at the farther
end, which was not more firmly secured than the first, and found
themselves fronting the door of the Chevalier's chamber. Maurice had
seen this door twenty times before, and never thought of inquiring
where it led to. All his world was centred in the room where he was
received by Geneviève.
"Oh! oh!" said Lorin, in a low voice, "here we must change our tactics;
no more keys, and the door locked."
"Are you," asked Maurice, hardly able to articulate, "sure that he is
here?"
"If our plan is correct, he ought to be here," replied the police
agent; "besides, we shall soon see. Gendarmes, force open the door;
and you, citizens, hold yourselves in readiness, and the instant the
door is opened, dash into the chamber!"
Four men, selected by the emissary of police, raised the butt-ends
of their muskets, and on a signal from the man who conducted this
enterprise, gave one blow all together, when the door flew into a
thousand fragments.
"Surrender, or you are a dead man!" cried Lorin, rushing into the
chamber.
No one replied, and the curtains of the bed were closely drawn.
"Mind the bed!" said the emissary of police; "at the first movement of
the curtains, fire!"
"Wait!" said Maurice, "I will open them."
And no doubt in the hope that the Chevalier de Maison-Rouge might be
concealed behind them, and that it would be his lot to meet the first
stab or pistol shot, Maurice hastily pulled apart the curtains, which,
creaking along the iron rod, left the tenantless bed exposed to view.
"The devil!" exclaimed Lorin, "there is no one here."
"He must have escaped," murmured Maurice.
"Impossible, citizens, impossible!" cried the man in gray. "I tell you
he was seen to enter here an hour ago, and no one has been seen to go
out, and all the outlets from the garden are well guarded."
Lorin opened the cabinets, the wardrobes, and looked everywhere, even
where it was physically impossible that a man could be concealed.
"You see, however, that no one is here."
"No one!" repeated Maurice, with an emotion easily understood,--"you
see no one is here."
"To the chamber of Madame Dixmer," said the police agent, "perhaps he
may be there?"
"Oh!" said Maurice, "respect the chamber of a woman."
"Certainly we will respect it," said Lorin, "and Madame Dixmer also,
but for all that we must visit it."
"Then," said Maurice, "permit me to pass first."
"Pass on, then," said Lorin, "you are captain: honor the powers that
be," and leaving two men to guard the apartment, they returned to
that where they had lighted the torches. Maurice approached the door
opening into the chamber of Geneviève. It was the first time he had
ever entered there. His heart beat violently. The key was in the door.
Maurice laid his hand upon the key, but still hesitated.
"Well," said Lorin, "open!"
"But," said Maurice, "if Madame Dixmer should be in bed?"
"We shall look in her bed, under her bed, in the chimney, in the
wardrobes, and then if we find no one there but herself, we shall wish
her good-night," said Lorin.
"No, not so," said the police agent; "we shall arrest her; Citizeness
Geneviève Dixmer is an aristocrat who has been recognized as an
accomplice of the girl Tison and the Chevalier de Maison-Rouge."
"Open it yourself, then," said Maurice, "I do not arrest women." The
agent of police looked at Maurice, sideways, and the men murmured among
themselves.
"Oh, you grumble, do you?" said Lorin; "then you shall have two to
grumble about. I am of Maurice's opinion," and he made a step backward.
The man in gray seized the key, opened the door, and the soldiers
rushed into the chamber. Two wax lights burned upon a little table, but
the chamber of Geneviève, like that of the Chevalier de Maison-Rouge,
was uninhabited.
"Empty!" cried the police agent.
"Empty!" cried Maurice, turning pale; "where is she, then?"
Lorin regarded Maurice with astonishment.
"Let us search," said the agent of police, and closely followed by
the military, he began to rummage the house from the cellars to the
workshops. At length, when their backs were turned, Maurice, who had
followed them impatiently with his eyes, in his turn darted into the
chamber, opening the presses, which had already been opened, and
calling in a voice replete with anxiety, "Geneviève! Geneviève!" But
Geneviève made no reply; the chamber was indeed vacated. Then he began
to search the house in a species of frenzy, out-houses, conservatories,
sheds,--nothing was omitted, but all without success.
Suddenly a noise was heard, a troop of armed men presented themselves
at the door, exchanged the password with the sentinel, entered the
garden, and dispersed themselves over the house. At the head of this
reinforcement waved the red plume of Santerre.
"Well!" said he to Lorin, "where is the conspirator?"
"How! where is the conspirator?"
"Yes! I asked what have you done with him?"
"I shall ask you that question. If your detachment had guarded the
outlets properly, ere this he must have been arrested, since he was not
in the house when we entered it."
"What! do you mean to say," cried the furious general, "that you have
really allowed the Chevalier to escape?"
"We could not allow him to escape since we have never taken him."
"Then I can comprehend nothing," said Santerre.
"Of what?" said Lorin.
"Of the message you sent me by your envoy."
"We sent you an envoy!"
"Yes; a man in a brown coat, with black hair, and green spectacles,
who came from you to inform me you were on the eve of capturing
Maison-Rouge, but that he was defending himself like a lion; upon
hearing which I hastened to your assistance."
"A man in a brown coat, black hair, and green spectacles?" repeated
Lorin.
"Yes, with a female on his arm."
"Young and pretty?" cried Maurice, glancing toward the general.
"Yes, young and pretty."
"It was he and Madame Dixmer," said Maurice.
"What, he!" exclaimed Santerre. "Maison-Rouge! Oh, blockhead that I was
not to have killed them both! Come, Citizen Lindey, we may capture them
yet."
"But how the devil," asked Lorin, "came you to let them pass?"
"Zounds!" said Santerre, "I let them pass because they gave the
password."
"They had the password?" exclaimed Lorin; "then there is surely a
traitor among us!"
"No, no, Citizen Lorin; you are known, and we well know that there are
no traitors among you."
Lorin looked around him as if to detect the miscreant, and publicly
proclaim his shame. He encountered the gloomy face and wandering eye of
Maurice.
"Ah!" murmured he, "what means this?"
"The man cannot be very far off," said Santerre; "let us search the
environs; perhaps he has fallen in with some patrol who, more wide
awake than we, did not allow themselves to be gulled so easily."
"Yes, yes; let us search," said Lorin; and, under the pretence of so
doing, he seized Maurice by the arm, and drew him into the garden.
"Yes, let us search," said the soldiers; "but before we search--" and
one of them flung his still burning torch into an adjacent shed, filled
with bundles of fagots and dried herbs.
"Come," said Lorin, "come!"
Maurice offered no resistance. He followed Lorin like a child; they
both ran as far as the bridge without speaking; there they stopped, and
Maurice turned round. The sky was red from the horizon to the Faubourg,
and above the houses ascended innumerable sparks.