message to Armand had reassured her just as he had intended that
it should do。 Fate had dealt over harshly with her as it was； and
Blakeney's remorse for the sorrow which he had already caused her；
was scarcely less keen than Armand's。 He did not wish her to bear
the intolerable burden of hatred against her brother； and by
binding St。 Just close to him at the supreme hour of danger he
hoped to prove to the woman whom he loved so passionately that
Armand was worthy of trust。
PART III
CHAPTER XXXV
THE LAST PHASE
〃Well？ How is it now？〃
〃The last phase； I think。〃
〃He will yield？〃
〃He must。〃
〃Bah！ you have said it yourself often enough； those English are
tough。〃
〃It takes time to hack them to pieces； perhaps。 In this case even
you； citizen Chauvelin； said that it would take time。 Well； it
has taken just seventeen days； and now the end is in sight。〃
It was close on midnight in the guard…room which gave on the
innermost cell of the Conciergerie。 Heron had just visited the
prisoner as was his wont at this hour of the night。 He had
watched the changing of the guard； inspected the night…watch；
questioned the sergeant in charge； and finally he had been on the
point of retiring to his own new quarters in the house of Justice；
in the near vicinity of the Conciergerie； when citizen Chauvelin
entered the guard…room unexpectedly and detained his colleague
with the peremptory question：
〃How is it now？〃
〃If you are so near the end； citizen Heron；〃 he now said； sinking
his voice to a whisper； 〃why not make a final effort and end it
to…night？〃
〃I wish I could； the anxiety is wearing me out more n him；〃 added
with a jerky movement of the head in direction of the inner cell。
〃Shall I try？〃 rejoined Chauvelin grimly。
〃Yes； an you wish。〃
Citizen Heron's long limbs were sprawling on a guard…room chair。
In this low narrow room he looked like some giant whose body had
been carelessly and loosely put together by a 'prentice hand in
the art of manufacture。 His broad shoulders were bent； probably
under the weight of anxiety to which he had referred； and his
head； with the lank； shaggy hair overshadowing the brow； was sunk
deep down on his chest。
Chauvelin looked on his friend and associate with no small measure
of contempt。 He would no doubt have preferred to conclude the
present difficult transaction entirely in his own way and alone；
but equally there was no doubt that the Committee of Public Safety
did not trust him quite so fully as it used to do before the
fiasco at Calais and the blunders of Boulogne。 Heron； on the
other hand； enjoyed to its outermost the confidence of his
colleagues； his ferocious cruelty and his callousness were well
known； whilst physically； owing to his great height and bulky if
loosely knit frame； he had a decided advantage over his trim and
slender friend。
As far as the bringing of prisoners to trial was concerned； the
chief agent of the Committee of General Security had been given a
perfectly free hand by the decree of the 27th Nivose。 At first；
therefore； he had experienced no difficulty when he desired to
keep the Englishman in close confinement for a time without
hurrying on that summary trial and condemnation which the populace
had loudly demanded； and to which they felt that they were
entitled as to a public holiday。 The death of the Scarlet
Pimpernel on the guillotine had been a spectacle promised by every
demagogue who desired to purchase a few votes by holding out
visions of pleasant doings to come； and during the first few days
the mob of Paris was content to enjoy the delights of expectation。
But now seventeen days had gone by and still the Englishman was
not being brought to trial。 The pleasure…loving public was waxing
impatient； and earlier this evening； when citizen Heron had shown
himself in the stalls of the national theatre； he was greeted by a
crowded audience with decided expressions of disapproval and open
mutterings of：
〃What of the Scarlet Pimpernel？〃
It almost looked as if he would have to bring that accursed
Englishman to the guillotine without having wrested from him the
secret which he would have given a fortune to possess。 Chauvelin；
who had also been present at the theatre； had heard the
expressions of discontent； hence his visit to his colleague at
this late hour of the night。
〃Shall I try？〃 he had queried with some impatience； and a deep
sigh of satisfaction escaped his thin lips when the chief agent；
wearied and discouraged； had reluctantly agreed。
〃Let the men make as much noise as they like；〃 he added with an
enigmatical smile。 〃The Englishman and I will want an
accompaniment to our pleasant conversation。〃
Heron growled a surly assent； and without another word Chauvelin
turned towards the inner cell。 As he stepped in he allowed the
iron bar to fall into its socket behind him。 Then he went farther
into the room until the distant recess was fully revealed to him。
His tread had been furtive and almost noiseless。 Now he paused；
for he had caught sight the prisoner。 For a moment he stood quite
still； with hands clasped behind his back in his wonted
attitudestill save for a strange； involuntary twitching of his
mouth； and the nervous clasping and interlocking of his fingers
behind his back。 He was savouring to its utmost fulsomeness the
supremest joy which animal man can ever knowthe joy of looking
on a fallen enemy。
Blakeney sat at the table with one arm resting on it； the
emaciated hand tightly clutched； the body leaning forward； the
eyes looking into nothingness。
For the moment he was unconscious of Chauvelin's presence； and the
latter could gaze on him to the full content of his heart。
Indeed； to all outward appearances there sat a man whom privations
of every sort and kind； the want of fresh air； of proper food；
above all； of rest； had worn down physically to a shadow。 There
was not a particle of colour in cheeks or lips； the skin was grey
in hue； the eyes looked like deep caverns； wherein the glow of
fever was all that was left of life。
Chauvelin looked on in silence； vaguely stirred by something that
he could not define； something that right through his triumphant
satisfaction； his hatred and final certainty of revenge； had
roused in him a sense almost of admiration。
He gazed on the noiseless figure of the man who had endured so
much for an ideal； and as he gazed it seemed to him as if the
spirit no longer dwelt in the body； but hovered round in the dank；
stuffy air of the narrow cell above the head of the lonely
prisoner； crowning it with glory that was no longer of this earth。
Of this the looker…on was conscious despite himself； of that and
of the fact that stare as he might； and with perception rendered
doubly keen by hate； he could not； in spite of all； find the least
trace of mental weakness in that far…seeing gaze which seemed to
pierce the prison walls； nor could he see that bodily weakness had
tended to subdue the ruling passions。
Sir Percy Blakeneya prisoner since seventeen days in close；
solitary confinement； half…starved； deprived of rest； and of that
mental and physical activity which had been the very essence of
life to him hithertomight be outwardly but a shadow of his
former brilliant self； but nevertheless he was still that same
elegant English gentleman； that prince of dandies whom Chauvelin
had first met eighteen months ago at the most courtly Court in
Europe。 His clothes； despite constant wear and the want of
attention from a scrupulous valet； still betrayed the perfection
of London tailoring； he had put them on with meticulous care； they
were free from the slightest particle of dust； and the filmy folds
of priceless Mechlin still half…veiled the delicate whiteness of
his shapely hands。
And in the pale； haggard face； in the whole pose of body and of
arm； there was still the expression of that indomitable strength
of will； that reckless daring； that almost insolent challenge to
Fate； it was there untamed； uncrushed。 Chauvelin himself could not
deny to himself its presence or its force。 He felt that behind
that smooth brow； which looked waxlike now； the mind was still
alert； scheming； plotting； striving for freedom； for conquest and
for power； and rendered even doubly keen and virile by the ardour
of supreme self…sacrifice。
Chauvelin now made a slight movement and suddenly Blakeney became
conscious of his presence； and swift as a flash a smile lit up his
wan face。
〃Why！ if it is not my engaging friend Monsieur Chambertin；〃 he
said gaily。
He rose and stepped forward in the most approved fashion
prescribed by the elaborate etiquette of the time。 But Chauvelin
smiled grimly and a look of almost animal lust gleamed in his pale
eyes； for he had noted that as he rose Sir Percy had to seek the
support of the table； even whilst a dull film appeared to gather
over his eyes。
The gesture had been quick and cleverly disguised； but it had been
there neverthelessthat and the livid hue that overspread the
face as if consciousness was threatening to go。 All of which was
sufficient still further to assure the looker…on that that mighty
physical strength was giving way at last； that strength which he
had hated in his enemy almost as much as he had hated the thinly
veiled insolence of his manner。
〃And what procures me； sir； the honour of your visit？〃 continued
Blakeney； who hadat any rate； outwardly soon recovered himself；
and whose voice； though distinctly hoarse and spent； rang quite
cheerfully across the dank narrow cell。
〃My desire for your welfare； Sir Percy；〃 replied Chauvelin with
equal pleasantry。
〃La； sir； but have you not gratified that desire already； to an
extent which leaves no room for further solicitude？ But I pray
you； will you not sit down？〃 he continued； turning back toward the
table。 〃I was about to partake of the lavish supper which your
friends have provided for me。 Will you not share it； sir？ You are
most royally welcome； and it will mayhap remind you of that supper
we shared together in Calais； eh？ when you； Monsieur Chambertin；
were temporarily in holy orders。〃
He laughed； offering his enemy a chair； and pointed