"I think that I might certainly go. But whether they would permit me to return once I had left, I cannot say. "So that they will let you pass out, that is all that signifies at the moment," said Caron.
"Should they question you, you can tell them that you are going to dine and to fetch me my dinner from Berthon's. As a matter of fact, I shall want you to go to Choisy with a letter, which you must see does not fall into the hands of any of these people of the Convention."
"Give me the letter, Citizen, and trust me to do the rest," answered the faithful Brutus.
La Boulaye searched a drawer of his writing-table for the blank passport he required. Having found it, he hesitated for a moment how to fill it in. At last he decided, and set down three names - Pierre, Francois, and Julie Michael, players, going to Strasbourg - to which he added descriptions of himself, the Vicomte, and Mademoiselle. He reasoned that in case it should ultimately prove impossible for him to accompany them, the passport, thus indited, would still do duty for the other two. They could easily advance some excuse why the third person mentioned was not accompanying them. From this it will be seen that La Boulaye was far from having abandoned hope of effecting his escape, either by his own resourcefulness or by the favour of Robespierre himself, whose kindness for him, after all, was a factor worth reckoning upon.
To Mademoiselle he now wrote as follows:
I am sending you the laissez-passer filled in for the three of us. I am unfortunately unable to bring it myself as my abstraction of the order of release has already been discovered, and I am being detained pending the arrival of Robespierre. But I am at my own lodging, and I have every hope that, either by the use of my own wit, or else by the favour of my friend Robespierre, I shall shortly be able to join you. I would therefore ask you to wait a few days. But should I presently send you word not to do so any longer, or should you hear of events which will render it impossible for me to accompany you, you can then set out with Ombreval, travelling under the guise described in the passport, and informing any questioners that the other person mentioned has been forced by ill health to interrupt his journey. As I have said, I have every hope of winning through my present difficulties; but should I fail to do so, my most earnest prayer will be that you may make your way out of France in safety, and that lasting happiness may be your lot in whatever country you may elect to settle. You may trust the bearer implicitly, patriotic though he may appear.
He subscribed the letter with his initials, and, having enclosed the passport and sealed the package, he gave it to Brutus, with the most minute instructions touching its delivery.
These instructions Brutus carried out with speed and fidelity. He was allowed to quit the house without so much as a question, which left his plan for readmittance the greater likelihood of succeeding.
In something less than an hour - for he hired himself a horse at the nearest post-house - he had delivered his letter to Mademoiselle at Choisy.
Its contents sowed in her heart the very deepest consternation - a consternation very fully shared by the Vicomte.
"Tenez!" he exclaimed, when he had read it. "Perhaps now you will admit the justice of my plaint that you did not make a ****** purchase of my liberty, as I counselled you, instead of entering into this idiotic compact with that sans-culotte."
She looked at him a moment in silence. She was suffering as it was at the very thought that La Boulaye's life might be in danger in consequence of what he had done for her. With reluctance had she accepted the sacrifice of his career which he had made to serve her. Now that it became the question of a sacrifice of life as well she was dismayed. All the wrongs that she and hers had done that man seemed to rise up and reproach her now. And so, when presently she answered the Vicomte, it was no more than natural that she should answer him impatiently.
"I thought, Monsieur, that we had already discussed and settled that?"
" Settled it?" he echoed, with a sneer. "It seems none so easy to settle. Do you think that words will settle it."
"By no means," she answered, her voice quivering. "It seems as if a man's life will be required for that."
He shrugged his shoulders, and his face put on a look of annoyance.
"I hope, Mademoiselle, that you are not proposing to introduce sentimentality. I think you would be better advised to leave that vulgarity to the vulgar."
"I do not propose to pursue the discussion at all, Monsieur," was her chilly answer.
"The way of woman," he reflected aloud. "Let her find that she is being worsted in argument, and she calmly tells you that she has no mind to pursue it. But, Mademoiselle, will you tell me at least what you intend?"
"What do I intend?" she questioned. "What choice have we?"
"Whenever we are asked to follow a given course, we have always the choice between two alternatives," he theorised. "We can comply, or not comply."
"In the present instance I am afraid your rule is inapplicable.
There is no room for any alternative. We can do nothing but wait."
She looked at him impatiently, and wearily she sank on to a chair.
"Monsieur," she said, as calmly as might be," I am almost distracted by my thoughts as it is. I don't know whether you are seeking to complete the rout of my senses. Let me beg of you at least not to deal in riddles with me. The time is ill-chosen. Tell me bluntly what is in your mind, if, indeed, anything."
He turned from her peevishly, and crossed to the window. The twilight was descending, and the little garden was looking grey in the now pallid light. Her seeming obtuseness was irritating him.
"Surely, Mademoiselle," he exclaimed at last, "it is not necessary that I should tell you what other course is open to us? It is a matter for our choice whether we depart at once. We have a passport, and - and, enfin, every hour that we remain here our danger is increased, and our chances of escape are lessened."
