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Updated: June 23, 2025
But not even in that pinch, no, nor in that worse hour when Basterga, having discovered his knowledge to her, gave her as a cat plays with a mouse which it is presently to tear to pieces a little law and a little space, did she come so near to despair as on this evening when the echo of her mother's insane laughter drew her from the living-room at an hour without precedent.
Basterga and Grio were absent: if this fool could be removed, even for an hour or two, Anne would have the house to herself, and by midnight the crisis might be overpast. "I will come with you," he said. Louis uttered a sigh of relief. He had expected and he had very nearly received another answer. "Good," he said. "But he does not want me." "Both or neither," Claude replied coolly.
The contemplation of them turned his cheek a shade paler and struck terror to his heart; but did not stay him. His eyes avoiding the other's gaze, his face shrinking and pitiable, shame already his portion, he nodded. "Precisely," Basterga said. "Then nothing can better serve our purpose than this. Let your officers know what you have heard, and know that you would hear more of this house.
Nor did the fact that the straw at that moment lay on the table beside him go for much. It did lie there. When he felt a little stronger and began to look about him, he found a note at his elbow. It was a small, common-looking letter, sealed with a B, that might signify Blondel or Basterga, or, for the matter of that, Baudichon.
In a breath, in the time it takes to utter a single sound, he had hit on the secret, he had come to the bottom of the mystery, he had learnt that which Basterga, favoured by the position of his room on the upper floor, had learned two months before, that which Grio might have learned, had he been anything but the dull gross toper he was! He had learned, or in a moment of intuition guessed all.
Basterga replied, still restraining him, but only by the exertion of considerable force. And then in a lower tone but one partially audible, "Do you want to draw the eyes of all Geneva this way?" he continued. "Do you want the house marked and watched and every gossip's tongue wagging about it? You did harm enough last night, I'll answer, and well if no worse comes of it!
"If this business miscarry," he said, "the statement may prove within a year of the mark. Or nearer, at any rate, than may please us." Basterga smiled disdainfully. "Think it not!" he answered, extending his arms and yawning with unaffected sincerity. "There was never scholar yet died on the wheel." "No?" "No, friend, no. Nor will, unless it be Scioppius, and he is unworthy of the name of scholar.
And with his disengaged hand he gripped Claude, for further safety, by the collar. "Up; I will keep them quiet!" The Syndic wasted a moment in astonishment, then he took in the situation and the other's cleverness. Before Basterga had ceased to speak, he was at the door of the staircase, and had dragged it open.
"Idle tales!" he said. "Fit only for women! Surely you do not believe them, Messer Blondel?" "Yes, you, Messer Syndic." "But this, at any rate, you'll not deny," Blondel retorted eagerly, "that he discovered the Philosopher's Stone?" "And lived poor, and died no richer?" Basterga rejoined in a tone of increasing scorn.
"Then how did you why did you " He stopped, fighting for words, and, unable to frame them, clutched the air with his hands. A moment he mouthed dumbly, then "Tell me!" he gasped. "Speak, man, speak! How was it? Cannot you see that you are killing me?" Basterga saw indeed that he had gone nearer to it than he had intended: for a moment the starting eyes and purple face alarmed him.
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