taken over the frontier you would have been the first to hear of
it； eh？ No；〃 he added confidently； and as if anxious to reassure
himself； 〃my firm belief is that the original idea of these
confounded Englishmen was to try and get the child over to
England； and that they alone know where he is。 I tell you it
won't be many days before that very withered Scarlet Pimpernel
will order his followers to give little Capet up to us。 Oh！ they
are hanging about Paris some of them； I know that； citizen
Chauvelin is convinced that the wife isn't very far away。 Give
her a sight of her husband now； say I； and she'll make the others
give the child up soon enough。〃
The man laughed like some hyena gloating over its prey。 Sir
Andrew nearly betrayed himself then。 He had to dig his nails into
his own flesh to prevent himself from springing then and there at
the throat of that wretch whose monstrous ingenuity had invented
torture for the fallen enemy far worse than any that the cruelties
of medieval Inquisitions had devised。
So they would not let him sleep！ A simple idea born in the brain
of a fiend。 Heron had spoken of Chauvelin as the originator of
the devilry； a man weakened deliberately day by day by insufficient
food； and the horrible process of denying him rest。 It seemed
inconceivable that human； sentient beings should have thought of
such a thing。 Perspiration stood up in beads on Sir Andrew's brow
when he thought of his friend； brought down by want of sleep to
what？ His physique was splendidly powerful； but could it stand
against such racking torment for long？ And the clear； the alert
mind； the scheming brain； the reckless daringhow soon would these
become enfeebled by the slow； steady torture of an utter want of rest？
Ffoulkes had to smother a cry of horror； which surely must have
drawn the attention of that fiend on himself had he not been so
engrossed in the enjoyment of his own devilry。 As it is； he ran
out of the stuffy eating…house； for he felt as if its fetid air
must choke him。
For an hour after that he wandered about the streets； not daring
to face Marguerite； lest his eyes betrayed some of the horror
which was shaking his very soul。
That was twenty…four hours ago。 To…day he had learnt little else。
It was generally known that the Englishman was in the Conciergerie
prison； that he was being closely watched； and that his trial
would come on within the next few days； but no one seemed to know
exactly when。 The public was getting restive； demanding that
trial and execution to which every one seemed to look forward as
to a holiday。 In the meanwhile the escape of the Dauphin had been
kept from the knowledge of the public； Heron and his gang； fearing
for their lives； had still hopes of extracting from the Englishman
the secret of the lad's hiding…place； and the means they employed
for arriving at this end was worthy of Lucifer and his host of
devils in hell。
From other fragments of conversation which Sir Andrew Ffoulkes had
gleaned that same evening； it seemed to him that in order to hide
their defalcations Heron and the four commissaries in charge of
little Capet had substituted a deaf and dumb child for the escaped
little prisoner。 This miserable small wreck of humanity was
reputed to be sick and kept in a darkened room； in bed； and was in
that condition exhibited to any member of the Convention who had
the right to see him。 A partition had been very hastily erected
in the inner room once occupied by the Simons； and the child was
kept behind that partition； and no one was allowed to come too
near to him。 Thus the fraud was succeeding fairly well。 Heron
and his accomplices only cared to save their skins； and the
wretched little substitute being really ill； they firmly hoped
that he would soon die； when no doubt they would bruit abroad the
news of the death of Capet； which would relieve them of further
responsibility。
That such ideas； such thoughts； such schemes should have
engendered in human minds it is almost impossible to conceive； and
yet we know from no less important a witness than Madame Simon
herself that the child who died in the Temple a few weeks later
was a poor little imbecile； a deaf and dumb child brought hither
from one of the asylums and left to die in peace。 There was
nobody but kindly Death to take him out of his misery； for the
giant intellect that had planned and carried out the rescue of the
uncrowned King of France； and which alone might have had the power
to save him too； was being broken on the rack of enforced
sleeplessness。
CHAPTER XXVI
THE BITTEREST FOE
That same evening Sir Andrew Ffoulkes； having announced his
intention of gleaning further news of Armand； if possible； went
out shortly after seven o'clock； promising to be home again about
nine。
Marguerite； on the other hand； had to make her friend a solemn
promise that she would try and eat some supper which the landlady
of these miserable apartments had agreed to prepare for her。 So
far they had been left in peaceful occupation of these squalid
lodgings in a tumble…down house on the Quai de la Ferraille；
facing the house of Justice； the grim walls of which Marguerite
would watch with wide…open dry eyes for as long as the grey wintry
light lingered over them。
Even now； though the darkness had set in； and snow； falling in
close； small flakes； threw a thick white veil over the landscape；
she sat at the open window long after Sir Andrew had gone out；
watching the few small flicks of light that blinked across from
the other side of the river； and which came from the windows of
the Chatelet towers。 The windows of the Conciergerie she could not
see； for these gave on one of the inner courtyards； but there was
a melancholy consolation even in the gazing on those walls that
held in their cruel； grim embrace all that she loved in the world。
It seemed so impossible to think of Percythe laughter…loving；
irresponsible； light…hearted adventureras the prey of those
fiends who would revel in their triumph； who would crush him；
humiliate him； insult himye gods alive！ even torture him；
perhapsthat they might break the indomitable spirit that would
mock them even on the threshold of death。
Surely； surely God would never allow such monstrous infamy as the
deliverance of the noble soaring eagle into the hands of those
preying jackals！ Margueritethough her heart ached beyond what
human nature could endure； though her anguish on her husband's
account was doubled by that which she felt for her brothercould
not bring herself to give up all hope。 Sir Andrew said it
rightly； while there was life there was hope。 While there was
life in those vigorous limbs； spirit in that daring mind； how
could puny； rampant beasts gain the better of the immortal soul？
As for Armandwhy； if Percy were free she would have no cause to
fear for Armand。
She sighed a sigh of deep； of passionate regret and longing。 If
she could only see her husband； if she could only look for one
second into those laughing； lazy eyes； wherein she alone knew how
to fathom the infinity of passion that lay within their depths； if
she could but once feel hisardent kiss on her lips； she could
more easily endure this agonising suspense； and wait confidently
and courageously for the issue。
She turned away from the window； for the night was getting bitterly
cold。 From the tower of St。 Germain l'Auxerrois the clock slowly
struck eight。 Even as the last sound of the historic bell died away
in the distance she heard a timid knocking at the door。
〃Enter！〃 she called unthinkingly。
She thought it was her landlady； come up with more wood； mayhap；
for the fire； so she did not turn to the door when she heard it
being slowly opened； then closed again； and presently a soft tread
on the threadbare carpet。
〃May I crave your kind attention； Lady Blakeney？〃 said a harsh
voice； subdued to tones of ordinary courtesy。
She quickly repressed a cry of terror。 How well she knew that
voice！ When last she heard it it was at Boulogne； dictating that
infamous letterthe weapon wherewith Percy had so effectually
foiled his enemy。 She turned and faced the man who was her
bitterest foehers in the person of the man she loved。
〃Chauvelin！〃 she gasped。
〃Himself at your service； dear lady；〃 he said simply。
He stood in the full light of the lamp； his trim； small figure
boldly cut out against the dark wall beyond。 He wore the usual
sable…coloured clothes which he affected； with the primly…folded
jabot and cuffs edged with narrow lace。
Without waiting for permission from her he quietly and
deliberately placed his hat and cloak on a chair。 Then he turned
once more toward her； and made a movement as if to advance into
the room； but instinctively she put up a hand as if to ward off
the calamity of his approach。
He shrugged his shoulders； and the shadow of a smile； that had
neither mirth nor kindliness in it； hovered round the corners of
his thin lips。
〃Have I your permission to sit？〃 he asked。
〃As you will；〃 she replied slowly； keeping her wide…open eyes
fixed upon him as does a frightened bird upon the serpent whom it
loathes and fears。
〃And may I crave a few moments of your undivided attention； Lady
Blakeney？〃 he continued； taking a chair； and so placing it beside
the table that the light of the lamp when he sat remained behind
him and his face was left in shadow。
〃Is it necessary？〃 asked Marguerite。
〃It is；〃 he replied curtly； 〃if you desire to see and speak with
your husbandto be of use to him before it is too late。〃
〃Then； I pray you； speak； citizen； and I will listen。〃
She sank into a chair； not heeding whether the light of the lamp
fell on her face or not； whether the lines in her haggard cheeks；
or her tear…dimmed eyes showed plainly the sorrow and despair that
had traced them。 She had nothing to hide from this man； the cause
of all the tortures which she endured。 She knew that neither
courage nor sorrow would move him； and that hatred for Percy
personal deadly hatred for the man who had twice foiled him
had long crushed the last spark of humanity in his heart。
〃Perhaps； Lady Blakeney；〃 he began after a slight