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Updated: May 6, 2025
"Shot?" echoed La Boulaye, and then he remembered the precise words of the request which Des Cadoux had preferred the night before, but which, at the time, he had treated lightly. "Ma foi, you do not flatter me!" he cried. "Am I a murderer, then? Come, come, Citizen, here is the letter that you are to carry.
"And so, my honest fellow," said Des Cadoux, producing his eternal snuff-box, "it seems that you are a Royalist. We did but test you with that toast, my friend." "What should a poor fellow know of politics, Messieurs?" he deprecated. "These are odd times. I doubt me the world has never seen their like. No man may safely know his neighbour.
Suspicious she was, yet that glance of La Boulaye's had ruled her strangely, and she was content to now await developments. "We will see what we can do," answered La Boulaye, as he made room for them by the hearth. "Come, Mathilde, let us try what the larder will yield." "I am afraid that Madame still mistrusts us," deplored Des Cadoux.
Had he told them precisely what she was seeking they had been, possibly, less at ease. "Let her hasten," cried the courier, "for I am famished." "Have patience, Anatole," murmured the ever-gentle Cadoux. "The good woman did not expect us." Anatole! The name buzzed through Caron's brain. To whom did it belong? He knew of someone who bore it.
Ombreval stood like a statue, thunderstruck with amazement at this most unlooked-for turning of the tables, his face ashen, his weak mouth fallen open and his eyes fearful. Des Cadoux, who had also risen, seemed to take in the situation at a glance. Like a well-bred gamester who knows how to lose with a good grace the old gentleman laughed drily to himself as he tapped his snuff-box.
"I have already said that we will pay you handsomely my friend," quoth Des Cadoux, coming forward with his companion. "Do your best for us and you shall not regret it. Have you aught to eat in the house?" The woman was standing by the wall, her face expressing bewilderment and suspicion.
"Why, it is a feast," declared Des Cadoux, in excellent humour, and for all that he was under the impression that he was to die in half-an-hour he ate with the heartiest good-will, chatting pleasantly the while with the Republican the first Republican with whom it had ever been his aristocratic lot to sit at table.
At the 'Hotel des Trois Rois, Treves." He announced the completion of his task, and La Boulaye bade him go join Des Cadoux at the next table and take some food before setting out, whilst the Deputy himself now sat down to write. "Citoyenne," he wrote, "the man to whom you are betrothed, for whose sake you stooped to treachery and attempted murder, is in my hands.
At last he shrugged his shoulders, after the manner of one who abandons a problem that has grown too knotty. "Citizen des Cadoux," said he, "I have deliberated that since I have received no orders from Paris concerning you, and also since I am not by profession a catch-poll there is no reason whatever why I should carry you to Paris.
Behind him, howling and roaring like the beasts of prey they were become, surged the tenantry of Bellecour to pay the long-standing debt of hate to their seigneur. "Here," said Des Cadoux, with a grimace, "endeth the chapter of our lives. I wonder, do they keep rappee in heaven?"
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