Joseph-François Chauvelin

“ For the space of one second Chauvelin feared that his zeal had outrun his prudence, that he had dealt a death-blow to a man in the last stage of exhaustion, where he had only wished to fan the flickering flame of life. ”

“ But these people here should not have the gratuitous spectacle of a man enduring the torments of disappointment and of baffled revenge. Whatever Chauvelin was suffering now would for ever remain the secret of his own soul. Anon, when the Leridans' rasping voices died away in one of the more distant portions of the house and the men of the Surete were busy accepting refreshment and gratuity from the two terrified wretches, he had put down the candle with a steady hand and then walked with a firm step out of the house. ”

“ Of a truth, a fine figure of a man, Chauvelin was ready enough to admit that; the long, hard limbs, the wide chest, and slender, white hands, all bespoke the man of birth, breeding and energy: the face too looked strong and clearly-cut in repose, now that the perpetually inane smile did not play round the firm lips, nor the lazy, indolent expression mar the seriousness of the straight brow. For one moment—it was a mere flash—Chauvelin felt almost sorry that so interesting a career should be thus ignominiously brought to a close. ”

“ Chauvelin smiled benignly, and rubbing his long, thin hands together, he looked round the deserted supper-room, whence even the last flunkey had retired in order to join his friends in the hall below. All was silence in the dimly-lighted room, whilst the sound of the gavotte, the hum of distant talk and laughter, and the rumble of an occasional coach outside, only seemed to reach this palace of the Sleeping Beauty as the murmur of some flitting spooks far away. ”

“ But he seemed so broken, so abject now, that contempt for his dejected attitude, and for the defeat which had been inflicted on him, chased the last remnant of fear from her heart.
“I did not even succeed in harming that enigmatical personage,” continued Chauvelin with the same self-abasement. “Sir Percy Blakeney, you remember, threw himself across my plans, quite innocently of course. I failed where you succeeded. Luck has deserted me. Our government offered me a humble post, away from France. I look after the interests of French subjects settled in England. My days of power are over. ”

“ He knew Chauvelin and his ways, knew the kind of tortuous conception that would find origin in his brain; the moment that he saw Marguerite sitting there he must have guessed that Chauvelin once more desired to put her precious life in the balance of his intrigues.
“Citizen Heron is impatient, Sir Percy,” resumed Chauvelin after a while, “so I must be brief. Lady Blakeney, as well as citizen St. Just, will accompany us on this expedition to whithersoever you may lead us. They will be the hostages which we will hold against your own good faith. ”

“ Yet what more natural than that Chauvelin should be here now? His object accomplished, he had no doubt posted to Dover, just as she had done. There was no difficulty in that, and a man of his type and importance would always have unlimited means and money at his command to accomplish any journey he might desire to undertake. ”

“ Chauvelin's pale eyes were fixed upon the darkness, through which he could vaguely discern the uncouth figure of the proconsul, sprawling over his desk. Which way would his passions sway him? Chauvelin as he watched and waited felt that his habitual self-control was perhaps more severely taxed at this moment than it had ever been before. Upon the swaying of those passions, the passions of a man infinitely craven and infinitely base, depended all his—Chauvelin's—hopes of getting even at last with a daring and resourceful foe. ”

“ Catherine Théot was silent for a moment or two, pressed her thin lips together; then rejoined quite quietly:
"She'll not escape. Have no fear, citizen Chauvelin."
"That's brave! And now, tell me what has become of the coalheaver Rateau?"
"Oh, he comes and goes. You told me to encourage him."
"Yes"
"So I give him potions for his cough. He has one foot in the grave."
"Would that he had both!" Chauvelin broke in savagely. "That man is a perpetual menace to my plans. It would have been so much better if we could have sent him last April to the guillotine." ”

“ Chauvelin was like a wily and sleek panther that is furtive in its movements, that will lure its prey, watch it, follow it with stealthy footsteps, and only pounce on it when it is least wary, whilst Heron was more like a raging bull that tosses its head in a blind, irresponsible fashion, rushes at an obstacle without gauging its resisting powers, and allows its victim to slip from beneath its weight through the very clumsiness and brutality of its assault.
Still Chauvelin had two heavy black marks against him—those of his failures at Calais and Boulogne. ”

“ But, above all, Chauvelin had a purpose at heart. He firmly believed that the French aristocrat was the most bitter enemy of France; he would have wished to see every one of them annihilated: he was one of those who, during this awful Reign of Terror, had been the first to utter the historic and ferocious desire "that aristocrats might have but one head between them, so that it might be cut off with a single stroke of the guillotine." ”

“ A savage oath rose to Chauvelin's lips. He felt like a man who has been running, panting to reach a goal, who sees that goal within easy distance of him, and is then suddenly captured, caught in invisible meshes which hold him tightly, and against which he is powerless to struggle. For the moment he hated Fouquier-Tinville with a deadly hatred, would have tortured and threatened him until he wrung a consent, an admission, out of him. ”

“ It puzzles me."
"And it would puzzle me," rejoined Chauvelin, while the ghost of a smile curled his thin lips, "did I not know the man. Futile? Senseless, you say? Well, he does futile and senseless things one moment and amazing deeds of personal bravery and of astuteness the next. He is three parts a braggart too. He wanted you, me—all of us to [243] know how he and his followers succeeded in eluding our vigilance and entered our closely-guarded city in the guise of grimy peat-gatherers. ”

“ And Chauvelin, who in the past had oft with a nod sent a man to the guillotine, made no reply to this arrogant taunt. His small figure seemed to shrink still further within itself: and anon he passed his thin, claw-like hand over his face as if to obliterate from its surface any expression which might war with the utter humility wherewith he now spoke.
"Nor was there any offence meant on my part, citizen Martin-Roget," he said suavely. "Do we not both labour for the same end? The glory of the Republic and the destruction of her foes?" ”

“ Great God, is it not you that should have cause for fear? Methinks were I to strangle you now I should suffer less of remorse.”
“And would be rendering your ex-chief but a sorry service,” interposed Chauvelin with quiet irony. “Sir Percy Blakeney is a dying man, citizen St. Just; he’ll be a dead man at dawn if I do not put in an appearance by six o’clock this morning. This is a private understanding between citizen Heron and myself. ”

“ The sight of that mark upon the vagabond's arm caused Chauvelin to pause a moment, then to come down the stairs again.
"Citizen Rateau!" he called.
The man jumped as if he had been struck with a whip, tried to struggle to his feet, but collapsed on the floor, while a terrible fit of coughing took his breath away. Chauvelin, standing beside the barrel, looked down with a grim smile on this miserable wreckage of humanity whom he had so judiciously put out of the way of further mischief. ”

“ A wench is bringing him a bottle of wine and a hunk of bread and cheese.... He has started talking ... is talking volubly ... the people are laughing ... some are applauding.... And here comes Jean Victor, the landlord ... you know him, citizen ... a big, hulking fellow, and as good a patriot as I ever wish to see.... He, too, is laughing and talking to Rateau, who is doubled up with another fit of coughing—"
Chauvelin uttered an exclamation of impatience:
"Enough of this, citizen Tournefort. Keep your eye on the man and hold your tongue. I am spent with fatigue." ”

“ He is as strong as an ox, as agile as a cat. He can see in the dark and he can always vanish in a crowd. Here, there and everywhere, you never know where he will appear. He is a past master in the art of disguise and he is a born mountebank. Believe me, citizen, we shall want all the resources of our joint intellects to frustrate the machinations of such a foe." [251]
Carrier mused for a moment in silence.
"H'm!" he said after awhile, and with a sardonic laugh. "You may be right, citizen Chauvelin. ”

“ Chauvelin retorts drily:
"At work. On business at least as important as taking sides in a quarrel between Robespierre and Tallien."
"Pardi! . . ." Barras protests hotly.
But Chauvelin pays no further attention to him. A neighbouring church clock has just struck six. Within the hour his arch-enemy will be in his hands! Never for a moment does he doubt that the bold adventurer will come to the lonely house in the Rue de la Planchette. Even hating the Englishman as he does, he knows that the latter would not endanger his wife's safety by securing his own. ”

“ And, so easily is a multitude swayed, that one fact would bring him popularity, transcending that of every other man in France. He, Chauvelin, the despised, the derided, whose name had become synonymous with Failure, would then with a word sweep those aside who had mocked him, hurl his enemies from their pedestals, and name at will the rulers of France. ”

“ Both felt instinctively too that this man Chauvelin, however wholly he may have failed in the past, was nevertheless still the only man who might grapple successfully with the elusive and adventurous foe.
"Are you assuming, citizen Chauvelin," queried Carrier after awhile, "that this packet of papers was dropped pur [244] posely by the Englishman, so that it might get into our hands?"
"There is always such a possibility," replied Chauvelin drily. "With that type of man one must be prepared to meet the unexpected." ”

“ No decent man would be seen walking up the guillotine in such a waistcoat as you are wearing. Ad for your boots——" He yawned again. "You really must excuse me! I came home late from the theatre last night, and have not had my usual hours of sleep. So, by your leave——"
"By all means, Sir Percy!" Chauvelin replied complacently. "At this moment you are a free man, because I happen to be alone and unarmed, and because this house is solidly built and my voice would not carry to the floor above. ”

“ Which of your followers will have the honour of the communication?”
“My brother-in-law, Armand St. Just; he is still in Paris, I believe. He can let the others know.”
Chauvelin made no immediate reply. He paused awhile, hesitating. Would Sir Percy Blakeney be ready—if his own safety demanded it—to sacrifice the man who had betrayed him? In the momentous “either—or” that was to be put to him, by-and-by, would he choose his own life and leave Armand St. Just to perish? ”

“ A long, sarcastic laugh broke from Chauvelin's parted lips.
“Spare him?—spare the Scarlet Pimpernel!...” he ejaculated. “Nay, Citizen, you need have no fear of that. But believe me, I have schemes in my head by which the man whom we all hate will be more truly destroyed than your guillotine could ever accomplish: schemes, whereby the hero who is now worshipped in England as a demi-god will suddenly become an object of loathing and of contempt.... ”

“ Then if she still refuses, if she still chooses to scorn the honourable position which I offer her, I shall act on Carrier's suggestion. It will be at the Rat Mort to-night that she and I will have our final interview, and there when I dangle the prospect of Cayenne and the convict's brand before her, she may not prove so obdurate as she has been up to now."
"H'm! That is as may be," was Chauvelin's dry comment. "Personally I am inclined to agree with Carrier. [202] Death, swift and sure—the Loire or the guillotine—is the best that has yet been invented for traitors and aristos. ”

“ 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. ”

“ I meant nothing,” rejoined Chauvelin, smiling. “I am so interested in your removal; busy man as I am, it has amused me to watch you. Whom have you got to help you with the furniture?”
“Dupont, the man-of-all-work, from the concierge,” said Simon curtly. “Citizen Heron would not allow any one to come in from the outside.”
“Rightly too. Have the new commissaries come yet?
“Only citizen Cochefer. He is waiting upstairs for the others.”
“And Capet?”
“He is all safe. Citizen Heron came to see him, and then he told me to lock the little vermin up in the inner room. ”

“ On the ground close by the hearth was the small lanthorn, and in its dim light the packet of papers gleamed white and tempting in the darkness. Chauvelin's keen eyes had fastened on it, saw the form of receipt for money with Heriot's signature, which he recognised, on the top.
He himself had never felt so calm. The only thing he could regret was that he was alone. Half a dozen men now, and this impudent foe could indeed be brought to his knees. ”

“ I thought that I, a woman, would know how to touch your womanly heart.... I was clumsy, I suppose.... I made so sure that you would wish to go with your husband, in case... in case he insisted on running his head into the noose, which I feel sure Chauvelin has prepared for him.... I myself start for France shortly. Citizen Chauvelin has provided me with the necessary passport for myself and my maid, who was to have accompanied me.... Then, just now, when I was all alone... and thought over all the mischief which that fiend had forced me to do for him, it seemed to me that perhaps... ”