The Knight of Maison-Rouge_ A Novel of Marie Antoinette - Alexandre Dumas [109]
“ ‘Heck!’ says I to Santerre, pulling him aside, ‘you’re all in a bit of a tight spot!’
“ ‘True enough,’ he says, ‘we are.’
“ ‘The house was sold, wasn’t it?’
“ ‘Yes.’
“ ‘Two weeks ago?’
“ ‘Two or three weeks.’
“ ‘Sold in the presence of a notary?’
“ ‘Yes.’
“ ‘Well then, we have to go through all the notaries in Paris to find out which one sold the house and get ahold of the deed. The name and address of the buyer will be on it.’
“ ‘Marvelous! That’s what I call good thinking,’ says Santerre. ‘And coming from a man they’re accusing of being a bad patriot. Lorin, Lorin, old mate! I will rehabilitate you or the devil take me.’
“In a word,” Lorin went on, “no sooner said than done. The notary was sought, the deed was found, and on the deed the name and address of the guilty party. So Santerre kept his word and appointed me to arrest him.”
“And this man, it was the Knight of Maison-Rouge?”
“No, only his accomplice—that is, most likely.”
“Well then, how come you said you were going to arrest the Knight of Maison-Rouge?”
“We’re going to arrest both of them together.”
“To start with, do you know the Knight of Maison-Rouge?”
“Very well.”
“You have his description?”
“Of course I do! Santerre gave it to me. Five foot two or three inches tall, blond hair, blue eyes, straight nose, chestnut beard. Anyway, I’ve seen him.”
“When?”
“This very day.”
“You saw him?”
“You did too.”
Maurice started.
“That young runt with the blond hair that freed us this morning—you know, the one who commanded the troop of muscadins, who fought so hard.”
“So that really was him? I’d hoped it wasn’t true.…”
“The man himself. They followed him and lost him somewhere near the home of the owner of the rue de la Corderie, so they presume they share a house.”
“That seems likely.”
“It’s certain.”
“But Lorin,” said Maurice, “aren’t you lacking gratitude a little if you arrest tonight the man who saved us this morning?”
“For crying out loud!” said Lorin. “Do you really think he saved us in order to save us?”
“Why not?”
“Of course he didn’t. They were hiding out at that spot to carry off poor Héloïse Tison when she passed. The thugs from Marseilles got in their way, so they fell upon the thugs. We were saved as an aftereffect. Now, since everything is in the intention and the intention wasn’t in it, I don’t have to reproach myself in the least with being ungrateful. Besides, you see, Maurice, the crucial thing is necessity, and there is a dire necessity for us to rehabilitate ourselves by pulling off a real coup. I vouched for you.”
“To whom?”
“To Santerre. He knows you’re in command of the raid.”
“How so?”
“ ‘Are you sure of arresting the culprits?’ he asked.
“ ‘Yes,’ says I, ‘as long as Maurice is in on it.’
“ ‘But are you sure of Maurice? He’s been getting a little lukewarm for some time now.’
“ ‘Those who say that are wrong. Maurice is no more lukewarm than I am.’
“ ‘And you’ll answer for him?’
“ ‘As I would for myself.’
“So I went to your place but didn’t find you in; I then came this way, first because it’s the way I always come, and then because it’s the way you usually go. Finally I run into you, here you are: forward, march!
Victory, singing,
Opens the gate for us.…”
“My dear Lorin, it’s driving me to despair, but I just can’t work up any enthusiasm for this raid. Say you didn’t see me.”
“No, I can’t—the men all saw you.”
“Well then, say you saw me but I didn’t want to join the party.”
“I can’t say that either.”
“Why not?”
“Because this time you won’t just be lukewarm, you’ll be suspect.… And you know what they do with anyone suspect, don’t you? They take you to the place de la Révolution and invite you to salute the statue of liberty; only instead of lifting your hat, you lift your head.”
“Well then, Lorin, whatever will be, will be. But I suppose, when it comes down to it, that what I’m about to tell you will sound strange to you.”
Lorin opened his eyes wide and gazed at Maurice.
“Well, the truth is, I am