Angelot Part 21

"What is your grievance against the Prefect?"

"Ah--well, monsieur, when you come to grievances--a grievance is a valuable thing--yes, sometimes a small fortune lies in a grievance."

"I believe you are a liar!"

"Pardon, monsieur--what lie have I told?"

"You said you had had provocations. You called Monsieur le Prefet a feather-bed, meaning that he had smothered and stifled you. I don't believe a word of it!"

"Oh! Monsieur le General is very clever!" Simon ventured on a small laugh.

"Come, don't play with me, you rascal. What complaint have you to make?"

"Monsieur le General may have had a slight difference to-day with Monsieur le Prefet, but they will be reconciled to-morrow. Why should I give myself away and put myself in their power for nothing?"

"You are a fool! What complaint have you to make against Monsieur le Prefet?"

"I am not a fool, monsieur. That is just it. Therefore, I will not tell you--not yet, at least."

"Then why did you come here? What did you suppose I wanted you for?"

"To do some work, for which I might possibly be paid."

"Is it a question of pay?"

"Partly, monsieur. I made some valuable discoveries a week or two ago, and they have turned out of no use whatever. Here am I still an ordinary police officer, my work not acknowledged in any way, by praise, pay, or promotion. I tried on my own account to verify my discoveries and to find out more. This day, this very morning, I am warned to let the whole thing alone, to say nothing, even to the commissary of police."

The General hesitated. He was grave and thoughtful enough now.

He took out five napoleons and pushed them across the table to Simon, who picked them up quickly and greedily.

"Merci, Monsieur le General!"

"Chouannerie?" said Ratoneau.

Simon grinned.

"Ah, monsieur, this is not enough to make me safe. I must have five thousand francs at least, to carry me away out of the Prefect's reach, if I tell his little secrets to Monsieur le General."

"Five thousand devils! Do you think I am made of money? What do I want with your miserable secrets? What are the Chouans to me? The Prefect may be a Chouan himself, I dare say: stranger things have happened."

Simon shrugged his shoulders. His face was full of cunning and of secret knowledge.

"If Monsieur le General wants a real hold over Monsieur le Prefet," he said, with his eyes fixed on Ratoneau's face--"why then, these secrets of mine are worth the money. Of course, there is another thing for me to do. I can go to Paris and lay the whole thing before the Minister of Police or Monsieur le Comte Real. I had thought of that. But--the Government is generally ungrateful--and if there were any private service to be done for Monsieur le General, I should like it better.

Besides, it is just possible that I might be doing harm to some of your friends, monsieur."

"My friends? How?"

"Ah! voila! I can mention no names," said Simon.

The General took out his pocket-book and gave him a note for a thousand francs.

"Out with it, fellow. I hate mysteries," he said.

"Pardon, Monsieur le General! I said _five_ thousand."

"Well, there are two more. Not another penny till you have explained yourself. And then, if I am not satisfied, I shall turn you over to my guard to be flogged for theft and lying. And I doubt if they will leave much in your pockets."

"You treat me like a Jew, monsieur!"

"You are a Jew. Go on. What are these grand discoveries that Monsieur le Prefet will have nothing to do with?"

"A Chouan plot, monsieur. The conspirators have met, more than once, I believe, at Monsieur de la Mariniere's house, Les Chouettes. They were there that day, when Monsieur le Prefet and Monsieur le General breakfasted with him. That day when we met a herd of cows in the lane--"

"Hold your tongue, you scoundrel. You are telling me a pack of lies. The place was quiet and empty, no one there but ourselves. Why, we strolled about there the whole afternoon without seeing a single living creature except a little girl gathering flowers in the meadow."

"Ah, monsieur! See what it is to be an agent de police. To have eyes and ears, and to know how to use them! Worth a reward, is it not? I had not been an hour at Les Chouettes before I knew everything."

And five minutes had not pa.s.sed before General Ratoneau was in possession of all that Simon knew or suspected. Every one was implicated; master, servants, the four guests, whose voices he had recognised as he prowled in the wood, Angelot, and even the child Henriette.

"Gathering flowers in the meadow!" the spy laughed maliciously. "She ought to be in prison at this moment with her father and her cousin."

"Sapristi! And the Prefect knew all this?" growled the General.

"I told him at the time, monsieur. As he was strolling about after breakfast with Monsieur de la Mariniere, I called him aside and told him. Of course I expected an order to arrest the whole party. We were armed, we could have done it very well, even then, though they outnumbered us. Since then I have viewed the ground again, and caught the Baron d'Ombre breakfasting there, the most desperate Chouan in these parts. I questioned old Joubard the farmer, too, for his loyalty is none too firm. Well, when I came to report this to Monsieur le Prefet, he only told me again to be silent. And this very morning, after conferring with some of these Chouan gentlemen last night at Lancilly, as I happen to know, he told me to let the matter alone, to keep away from Les Chouettes and leave Monsieur de la Mariniere to do as he pleased."

The General stared and grunted. Honestly, he was very much astonished.

"That afternoon! The devil! who would have thought it?" he muttered to himself.

"It is not that Monsieur le Prefet is disloyal to the Empire," Simon went on, "though he might easily be made to appear so. It is that he thinks there is no policy like a merciful one. Also he is too soft-hearted, and too kind to his friends."

"By heaven! those are fortunate who find him so."

"The old friends of the country, monsieur. It is amazing how they hang together. Monsieur Joseph de la Mariniere is brother of Monsieur Urbain, Monsieur Ange is Monsieur Urbain's son, Monsieur le Comte de Sainfoy is their cousin--and I heard the servants saying, only last night, how beautiful the two young people looked, handing the coffee together--though I should certainly have thought, myself, that Monsieur le Comte would have made a better marriage than that for his daughter.

But they say the young gentleman's face--"

"Stop your fool's chatter!" cried the General, furiously.

"But that is just what I said, monsieur, to the Prefect's fellow who told me. I said this young Angelot was a silly boy who cared for nothing but practical jokes. Besides, if he is mixed up in Chouan conspiracies, Monsieur de Sainfoy could hardly afford--and after all, cousins are cousins. You may be very intimate with a cousin, but it does not follow--does it, monsieur?"

"Once for all, put that foolery out of your head. Now listen. You have told me your grievance against the Prefect. I will tell you mine."

And the police officer listened with all his ears, while General Ratoneau told him his story of last night and to-day.

"Ah!" he said thoughtfully--"I see--I see very well. Monsieur le Comte is a foolish gentleman, and Madame la Comtesse is a wise lady. Then Monsieur Urbain de la Mariniere--he is the friend of both--he visited Monsieur le General to-day."

This was a touch of curiosity, which the General did not satisfy, for he saw no good to be gained, at present, by mixing up Urbain's name in the business. He had made a good suggestion, which had failed. The General was aware that in consulting Simon he might be entering on dark ways where no gentleman would follow him. Simon's help might mean a good deal. It might mean arrests rather too near Monsieur Urbain to be pleasant. On one thing the General was resolved; by hook or by crook, by fair means or foul, Helene de Sainfoy should become his wife. With her mother on his side, he suspected that any means would in the end be forgiven. He was never likely again to have such an opportunity of marrying into the old n.o.blesse. Personally, Helene attracted him; he had been thinking of her a good deal that day.