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He waited quietly until the fall of the curtain at the end of Act II.; then, as Armand, with a sigh of delight, leaned back in his chair, and closing his eyes appeared to be living the last half-hour all over again, de Batz remarked with well-assumed indifference: "Mlle. Lange is a promising young actress. Do you not think so, my friend?"
There were wardrobes and cabinets, a diminutive washstand and a huge pier-glass, there were innumerable boxes and packing-cases, cane-bottomed chairs and what-nots every-where. The place looked like a depot for second-hand furniture. In the midst of all the litter de Batz at last became conscious of two people who stood staring at him and at Heron.
"I am just going on my usual nocturnal round," he said abruptly. "Come with me, citizen de Batz." A certain grim humour was apparent in his face as he proffered this invitation, which sounded like a rough command. As de Batz seemed to hesitate he nodded peremptorily to him to follow. Already he had gone into the hall and picked up his lanthorn.
He gets plenty to eat and plenty of warm clothes. Thousands of innocent children, who have not the crimes of a despot father upon their conscience, have to starve whilst he grows fat." The leer in his face was so evil that once more de Batz felt that eerie feeling of terror creeping into his bones. Here were cruelty and bloodthirsty ferocity personified to their utmost extent.
The lower classes make few comments as they relate a thing; they tell the fact that strikes them, and present it as they felt it. This tale was made as sharply incisive as the blow of an axe. "I shall not go to Batz," said Pauline, when we came to the upper shore of the lake.
It was clear that de Batz did not consider the topic of conversation by any means exhausted, and that it had been more with a view to a discussion like the present interrupted one that he had invited St. Just to come to the theatre with him to-night, rather than for the purpose of witnessing Mile. Lange's debut in the part of Celimene. The presence of St.
"The Scarlet Pimpernel," he said, "cares naught for your political aims. The work of mercy that he does, he does for justice and for humanity." "And for sport," said de Batz with a sneer, "so I've been told." "He is English," assented St. Just, "and as such will never own to sentiment. Whatever be the motive, look at the result! "Yes! a few lives stolen from the guillotine."
Then one of the soldiers, with a loud, angry oath, would struggle to his feet, and with the butt-end of his gun strike at the thin, wan fingers till their hold on the iron bar relaxed, and the pallid face beyond would sink back into the darkness with a desperate cry of pain. A quick, impatient sigh escaped de Batz' lips.
Three weeks would soon be over, and fresh bargains could be made time and again, while de Batz was alive and free. Heron was still waiting at the door, even whilst de Batz wondered what this nocturnal visitation would reveal to him of atrocity and of outrage. He made a final effort to master his nervousness, wrapped his cloak tightly around him, and followed his host out of the room.
The women, with their short skirts, which showed their slender ankles in black stockings, and with their small heads under the wings of the headdress, resembled sea-gulls. I am not speaking, of course, of the inhabitants of Pont l'Abbe or of Bourg de Batz, who have entirely different aspects. I visited nearly the whole of Brittany, but made my chief stay at Finistere.
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