Read Ebook: The man in grey Being episodes of the Chovan [i.e. Chouan] conspiracies in Normandy during the First Empire. by Orczy Emmuska Orczy Baroness

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 232 lines and 13615 words, and 5 pages

"What are you doing here in Tr?vargan?" he asked sternly.

"Help me to get up," she replied almost fiercely, "and I may tell you."

More puzzled than before, he raised her to her feet.

"You remember me?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied. "How could I forget the man who first held the cup of such bitter sorrow to my lips?"

"Someone had to tell you," he rejoined more gently, "and your husband was in my employ."

"And died in your employ," she answered roughly.

"Will you believe me," he retorted, "that, had I known of the terrible risk which he was running, I would have undertaken the errand myself?"

"Yes," she said dully, "I know that you are not a coward."

"Will you tell me why you are here?" he reiterated firmly.

She looked round her, right into the gloom in the direction where the lights of the ch?teau glimmered feebly through the trees. Then, turning to the Man in Grey, she said calmly:

"There was a suspicion gnawing at my heart. I came to see if I could confirm it, or lull it for ever to rest."

"You suspect the Tr?vargans of having had a hand in the outrage against your husband?"

"Don't you?" she retorted.

He made no reply and even through the darkness she could see that he appeared deeply buried in thought. He had turned off the light of his lantern, and by the dim light of the moon, partly hidden behind a veil of clouds, they could only distinguish one another's outline against the dense background of the shrubberies.

"Will you allow me to escort you home?" he asked abruptly.

She nodded in assent, and he, knowing the way, guided her along the less frequented paths of the park till he came to a locked postern gate. Asking her to wait a moment and, drawing a small tool from his pocket, he coolly picked the lock, and a moment or two later he and Mme. Darnier were walking rapidly down the main road in the direction of the city.

Next morning, when the Man in Grey arrived at the commissariat of police, he was greeted with sneers and acid reproaches by M. Carteret and M. le Pr?fet.

"I must say," said the latter with becoming pomposity, "that your attitude with regard to Monsieur and Madame de Tr?vargan is exceedingly reprehensible. You have placed my colleague and myself in a very awkward position. Monsieur le Marquis is one of the most influential, as he has always been one of the most loyal, personages in the province, and I have no doubt that he will visit his displeasure upon us both, though, Heaven knows! we have done nothing but follow your foolish lead in the matter."

"I pray you have patience, my good Monsieur Laurens," said the Man in Grey with unruffled calm. "The matter to which you refer is on the point of reaching its culmination."

"I was alluding to the affair of Hippolyte Darnier," said the pr?fet.

"So was I," retorted the Man in Grey.

"Are you about to discover who murdered him?" queried M. Carteret, with a touch of taunt.

"Yes," replied the secret agent. "With the help of Madame Darnier, whom I have summoned hither."

The pr?fet shrugged his shoulders with marked impatience.

"And I must ask you," added the Man in Grey in his blandest tones which admitted of no argument, "not to interfere in anything I may say to Madame Darnier in the course of our interview; to express no surprise and, above all, not to attempt to contradict. And you know, Monsieur Laurens, and you, too, Monsieur le Commissaire," he added sternly, "that when I give an order I intend it to be obeyed."

Hardly had this peremptory command fallen from his lips than Madame Darnier was announced.

She came in, looking even more fragile and more delicate in her deep mourning than she had done before. Her large, melancholy eyes sought, as if appealingly, those of the three men who had half-risen to greet her. The Man in Grey offered her a chair, into which she sank.

"You sent for me, Monsieur?" she asked, as she pressed a black-bordered handkerchief to her quivering lips.

"Only to give you the best of news, Madame," the secret agent said cheerily.

"The best of news?" she murmured. "I do not understand."

She rose suddenly, as if some hidden spring had projected her to her feet, and stood rigid and tense, her cheeks the colour of yellow wax, her eyes so dilated that they seemed as black as coal. The pr?fet and the commissaire had, indeed, the greatest difficulty to maintain the attitude of impassivity which the Minister's agent had so rigidly prescribed.

"Out of danger," murmured Mme. Darnier after a while. "What do you mean?"

While he spoke the Man in Grey had kept his eyes fixed steadily upon the woman. She was still standing as rigid as before and clinging with one hand to the back of the chair, whilst with the other she continued to press her handkerchief to her lips. Nor could the other two men detach their eyes from her face, which appeared like a petrified presentation of abject and nameless horror.

But he was too late. Madame Darnier had fallen back into her chair. From a deep scratch across her hand drops of blood were oozing freely. The commissaire and the pr?fet were gazing, horror-stricken and helpless, upon her face, which was slowly becoming distorted. A curious, jerky quiver shook her limbs from time to time.

"She has killed herself with the same poison wherewith she sent her unfortunate husband to his death," said the secret agent quietly.

"Was false," broke in the Man in Grey. "It was a trap set to wring an avowal from the murderer. And we must own," he added earnestly, "that the avowal has been both full and conclusive."

He threw his mantle over the wretched woman, who was already past help. But he dispatched one of the servants of the prefecture for the nearest leech.

"The fact that Madame Darnier was the daughter of the man Leclerc, who for years devoted himself to the fortunes of the Tr?vargans. He and his family are devoted heart and soul to the Marquis and his cause. The daughter has proved herself a fanatic, a madwoman, I should say. She killed her husband to save the family she loved."

"Their punishment will not long be delayed. I sent a copy of the compromising letter to the Minister--the original is still in my keeping."

THE LAST ADVENTURE

The riders put their horses to a walk. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the sun, crimson and cheerless, was setting in a sea of slate-coloured mist. A blustering wind from the south-west blew intermittent rain showers into the faces of the two solitary wayfarers. They had ridden hard all day--a matter of over thirty miles from Evreux--and one of them, at any rate, a middle-aged, stoutish, official-looking personage, showed signs both of fatigue and of growing ill-temper. The other, younger, more slender, dressed in colourless grey from head to foot, his mantle slung lightly from his shoulders, his keen eyes fixed straight before him, appeared moved by impatience rather than by the wind or the lateness of the hour.

The rain and the rapidly falling dusk covered the distant hills and the valley beyond with a mantle of gloom. To right and left of the road the coppice, still dressed in winter garb, already was wrapped in the mysteries of the night.

"I shall not be sorry to see the lights of Mantes," said M. Gault, the commissary of police of Evreux, to his companion. "I am getting saddle-sore, and this abominable damp has got into my bones."

The other sighed with obvious impatience.

"I would like to push on to Paris to-night," he said. "The moon will be up directly, and I believe the rain-clouds will clear. In any case the night will not be very dark, and I know every inch of the way."

"Another six hours or more in the saddle!" growled the commissaire. "No, thank you!"

"I thought you were anxious about those escaped prisoners of yours," observed the Man in Grey.

"So I am," retorted M. Gault.

"And that you desired Monsieur le Ministre to hear of the escape through your lips, before rumour hath played havoc with the event," continued the other tartly.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet