el dorado-第30部分

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The　clerk's　hands　did　not　in　character　gainsay　the　rest　of　his
appearance；　they　were　long　and　thin；　with　nails　that　resembled　the
talons　of　a　hawk。　　Armand　watched　them　fascinated　as　from　above
they　turned　over　rapidly　the　pages　of　the　book；　then　one　long；
grimy　finger　pointed　to　a　row　of　names　down　a　column。

〃If　she　is　here；〃　said　the　man　curtly；　〃her　name　should　be　amongst
these。〃

Armand's　vision　was　blurred。　　He　could　scarcely　see。　The　row　of
names　was　dancing　a　wild　dance　in　front　of　his　eyes；　perspiration
stood　out　on　his　forehead；　and　his　breath　came　in　quick；
stertorous　gasps。

He　never　knew　afterwards　whether　he　actually　saw　Jeanne's　name
there　in　the　book；　or　whether　his　fevered　brain　was　playing　his
aching　senses　a　cruel　and　mocking　trick。　　Certain　it　is　that
suddenly　amongst　a　row　of　indifferent　names　hers　suddenly　stood
clearly　on　the　page；　and　to　him　it　seemed　as　if　the　letters　were
writ　out　in　blood。

　　　　　582。　　Belhomme；　Louise；　aged　sixty。　　Discharged。

And　just　below；　the　other　entry：

　　　　　583。　Lange；　Jeanne；　aged　twenty；　actress。　Square　du　Roule
　　　　　No。5。　　Suspected　of　harbouring　traitors　and　ci…devants。
　　　　　Transferred　29th　Nivose　to　the　Temple；　cell　29。

He　saw　nothing　more；　for　suddenly　it　seemed　to　him　as　if　some　one
held　a　vivid　scarlet　veil　in　front　of　his　eyes；　whilst　a　hundred
claw…like　hands　were　tearing　at　his　heart　and　at　his　throat。

〃Clear　out　now！　it　is　my　turnwhat？　Are　you　going　to　stand　there
all　night？〃

A　rough　voice　seemed　to　be　speaking　these　words；　rough　hands
apparently　were　pushing　him　out　of　the　way；　and　some　one　snatched
the　candle　out　of　his　hand；　but　nothing　was　real。　　He　stumbled
over　a　corner　of　a　loose　flagstone；　and　would　have　fallen；　but
something　seemed　to　catch　bold　of　him　and　to　lead　him　away　for　a
little　distance；　until　a　breath　of　cold　air　blew　upon　his　face。

This　brought　him　back　to　his　senses。

Jeanne　was　a　prisoner　in　the　Temple；　then　his　place　was　in　the
prison　of　the　Temple；　too。　　It　could　not　be　very　difficult　to　run
one's　head　into　the　noose　that　caught　so　many　necks　these　days。　　A
few　cries　of　〃Vive　le　roi！〃　or　〃A　bas　la　republique！〃　and　more
than　one　prison　door　would　gape　invitingly　to　receive　another
guest。

The　hot　blood　had　rushed　into　Armand's　head。　　He　did　not　see
clearly　before　him；　nor　did　he　hear　distinctly。　There　was　a
buzzing　in　his　ears　as　of　myriads　of　mocking　birds'　wings；　and
there　was　a　veil　in　front　of　his　eyesa　veil　through　which　he　saw
faces　and　forms　flitting　ghost…like　in　the　gloom；　men　and　women
jostling　or　being　jostled；　soldiers；　sentinels；　then　long；
interminable　corridors；　more　crowd　and　more　soldiers；　winding
stairs；　courtyards　and　gates；　finally　the　open　street；　the　quay；
and　the　river　beyond。

An　incessant　hammering　went　on　in　his　temples；　and　that　veil　never
lifted　from　before　his　eyes。　　Now　it　was　lurid　and　red；　as　if
stained　with　blood；　anon　it　was　white　like　a　shroud　but　it　was
always　there。

Through　it　he　saw　the　Pont…au…Change；　which　he　crossed；　then　far
down　on　the　Quai　de　l'Ecole　to　the　left　the　corner　house　behind
St。　Germain　l'Auxerrois；　where　Blakeney　lodgedBlakeney；　who　for
the　sake　of　a　stranger　had　forgotten　all　about　his　comrade　and
Jeanne。

Through　it　he　saw　the　network　of　streets　which　separated　him　from
the　neighbourhood　of　the　Temple；　the　gardens　of　ruined
habitations；　the　closely…shuttered　and　barred　windows　of　ducal
houses；　then　the　mean　streets；　the　crowded　drinking　bars；　the
tumble…down　shops　with　their　dilapidated　awnings。

He　saw　with　eyes　that　did　not　see；　heard　the　tumult　of　daily　life
round　him　with　ears　that　did　not　hear。　　Jeanne　was　in　the　Temple
prison；　and　when　its　grim　gates　closed　finally　for　the　night；
heArmand；　her　chevalier；　her　lover；　her　defenderwould　be
within　its　walls　as　near　to　cell　No。　29　as　bribery；　entreaty；
promises　would　help　him　to　attain。

Ah！　there　at　last　loomed　the　great　building；　the　pointed　bastions
cut　through　the　surrounding　gloom　as　with　a　sable　knife。

Armand　reached　the　gate；　the　sentinels　challenged　him；　he　replied：

〃Vive　le　roi！〃　shouting　wildly　like　one　who　is　drunk。

He　was　hatless；　and　his　clothes　were　saturated　with　moisture。　　He
tried　to　pass；　but　crossed　bayonets　barred　the　way。　　Still　he
shouted：

〃Vive　le　roi！〃　and　〃A　bas　la　republique！〃

〃Allons！　the　fellow　is　drunk！〃　said　one　of　the　soldiers。

Armand　fought　like　a　madman；　he　wanted　to　reach　that　gate。　　He
shouted；　he　laughed；　and　he　cried；　until　one　of　the　soldiers　in　a
fit　of　rage　struck　him　heavily　on　the　head。

Armand　fell　backwards；　stunned　by　the　blow；　his　foot　slipped　on
the　wet　pavement。　　Was　he　indeed　drunk；　or　was　he　dreaming？　　He
put　his　hand　up　to　his　forehead；　it　was　wet；　but　whether　with　the
rain　or　with　blood　he　did　not　know；　but　for　the　space　of　one
second　he　tried　to　collect　his　scattered　wits。

〃Citizen　St。　Just！〃　said　a　quiet　voice　at　his　elbow。

Then；　as　he　looked　round　dazed；　feeling　a　firm；　pleasant　grip　on
his　arm；　the　same　quiet　voice　continued　calmly：

〃Perhaps　you　do　not　remember　me；　citizen　St。　Just。　　I　had　not　the
honour　of　the　same　close　friendship　with　you　as　I　had　with　your
charming　sister。　　My　name　is　Chauvelin。　Can　I　be　of　any　service　to
you？〃



CHAPTER　XVII
CHAUVELIN

Chauvelin！　　The　presence　of　this　man　here　at　this　moment　made　the
events　of　the　past　few　days　seem　more　absolutely　like　a　dream。
Chauvelin！the　most　deadly　enemy　he；　Armand；　and　his　sister
Marguerite　had　in　the　world。　　Chauvelin！the　evil　genius　that
presided　over　the　Secret　Service　of　the　Republic。　　Chauvelinthe
aristocrat　turned　revolutionary；　the　diplomat　turned　spy；　the
baffled　enemy　of　the　Scarlet　Pimpernel。

He　stood　there　vaguely　outlined　in　the　gloom　by　the　feeble　rays　of
an　oil　lamp　fixed　into　the　wall　just　above。　The　moisture　on　his
sable　clothes　glistened　in　the　flickering　light　like　a　thin　veil
of　crystal；　it　clung　to　the　rim　of　his　hat；　to　the　folds　of　his
cloak；　the　ruffles　at　his　throat　and　wrist　hung　limp　and　soiled。

He　had　released　Armand's　arm；　and　held　his　hands　now　underneath
his　cloak；　his　pale；　deep…set　eyes　rested　gravely　on　the　younger
man's　face。

〃I　had　an　idea；　somehow；〃　continued　Chauvelin　calmly；　〃that　you
and　I　would　meet　during　your　sojourn　in　Paris。　I　heard　from　my
friend　Heron　that　you　had　been　in　the　city；　he；　unfortunately；
lost　your　track　almost　as　soon　as　he　had　found　it；　and　I；　too；　had
begun　to　fear　that　our　mutual　and　ever　enigmatical　friend；　the
Scarlet　Pimpernel；　had　spirited　you　away；　which　would　have　been　a
great　disappointment　to　me。〃

Now　he　once　more　took　hold　of　Armand　by　the　elbow；　but　quite
gently；　more　like　a　comrade　who　is　glad　to　have　met　another；　and
is　preparing　to　enjoy　a　pleasant　conversation　for　a　while。　　He　led
the　way　back　to　the　gate；　the　sentinel　saluting　at　sight　of　the
tricolour　scarf　which　was　visible　underneath　his　cloak。　　Under　the
stone　rampart　Chauvelin　paused。

It　was　quiet　and　private　here。　　The　group　of　soldiers　stood　at　the
further　end　of　the　archway；　but　they　were　out　of　hearing；　and
their　forms　were　only　vaguely　discernible　in　the　surrounding
darkness。

Armand　had　followed　his　enemy　mechanically　like　one　bewitched　and
irresponsible　for　his　actions。　　When　Chauvelin　paused　he　too　stood
still；　not　because　of　the　grip　on　his　arm；　but　because　of　that
curious　numbing　of　his　will。

Vague；　confused　thoughts　were　floating　through　his　brain；　the　most
dominant　one　among　them　being　that　Fate　had　effectually　ordained
everything　for　the　best。　　Here　was　Chauvelin；　a　man　who　hated　him；
who；　of　course；　would　wish　to　see　him　dead。　　Well；　surely　it　must
be　an　easier　matter　now　to　barter　his　own　life　for　that　of　Jeanne；
she　had　only　been　arrested　on　suspicion　of　harbouring　him；　who　was
a　known　traitor　to　the　Republic；　then；　with　his　capture　and　speedy
death；　her　supposed　guilt　would；　he　hoped；　be　forgiven。　　These
people　could　have　no　ill…will　against　her；　and　actors　and
actresses　were　always　leniently　dealt　with　when　possible。　　Then
surely；　surely；　he　could　serve　Jeanne　best　by　his　own　arrest　and
condemnation；　than　by　working　to　rescue　her　from　prison。

In　the　meanwhile　Chauvelin　shook　the　damp　from　off　his　cloak；
talking　all　the　time　in　his　own　peculiar；　gently　ironical　manner。

〃Lady　Blakeney？〃　he　was　saying〃　I　hope　that　she　is　well！〃

〃I　thank　you；　sir；〃　murmured　Armand　mechanically。

〃And　my　dear　friend；　Sir　Percy　Blakeney？　　I　had　hoped　to　meet　him
in　Paris。　　Ah！　but　no　doubt　he　has　been　busy　very　busy；　but　I　live
in　hopesI　live　in　hopes。　　See　how　kindly　Chance　has　treated　me；〃
he　continued　in　the　same　bland　and　mocking　tones。　　〃I　was　taking　a
stroll　in　these　parts；　scarce　hoping　to　meet　a　friend；　when；
passing　the　postern…gate　of　this　charming　hostelry；　whom　should　I
see　but　my　amiable　friend　St。　Just　striving　to　gain　admission。
But；　la！　here　am　I　talking　of　myself；　and　I　am　not　re…assured　as
to　your　state　of　health。　　You　felt　faint　just　now；　did　you　not？
The　air　about　this　building　is　very　dank　and　close。　　I　hope　you
feel　better　now。　　Command　me；　pray；　if　I　can　be　of　service　to　you
in　any　way。〃

Whilst　Chauvelin　talked　he　had　drawn　Armand　after　him　into　the
lodge