Dennis Wheatley - The Launching of Roger Brook

Separating for a moment as they reached the back of the coach they sped along its sides. Each seized a door, wrenched it open and, simultaneously, flung themselves into its dark interior. The coachman's whip cracked, the horse jerked on the traces and the vehicle jolted forward.

Roger stumbled and fell to his knees. As his head went forward it hit a yielding but solid substance. Thrusting out a hand to steady himself it fell upon folds of rich heavy silk. There came a quick excited cry but, even before he heard it, Roger had recognised the fragrant scent that partially overcame the musty odour of the old hackney. There, in the pitch darkness, sat Athenais.

The Vicomte, knowing of her presence, had thrown himself into the place beside her. Levering himself up as the coach turned into the street, Roger dropped on to the seat opposite them. The lamp on the gate lit their faces for a moment and they were both smiling at him.

"What—what means this?" he exclaimed, almost overcome with excitement.

De la Tour d'Auvergne's rich voice came out of the darkness: "We are eloping. Twas a decision taken on the spur of the moment, but I vow we'll not regret it."

Athenais's clear treble followed close upon his words. "Nay, may I die if I do! To your inspiration, Monsieur, and your trust in me I'll owe my escape from the veil." She leaned forward and placed a hand on Roger's knee. "And to you, dear miller's youngest son, for the slaying of the dragon this night we both owe a debt that we shall ne'er be able to repay."

As the coach careered swiftly down the street, leaving M. de Rochambeau's people behind, Roger strove to readjust his thoughts. He did not doubt that Athenais still loved him, yet he knew that she had been right beyond all question to accept the Vicomte's proposal that they should elope.

" 'Twas a marvellous impulse," he said quickly. "Since for both of you it means all that offered a few months back, before any of us gave a thought to de Caylus. But what led you to conceive it?"

"We are your debtors there again," replied the Vicomte. " Twas born of the converse I had with you when we were returning from the fight. You told me that Athenais would be happy to have me as a husband, while concealing nothing of your own relations with her. After you had left me I realised for the fust time how she felt and how I stood. 'Twas but a jump then to the thought of snatching her from her father's vengeance."

"You owe me nothing," Roger demurred. "The swift and audacious decision was entirely yours. It needed courage, too, seeing that you can have had no time to make any preparations and M. de Rochambeau may yet pursue you."

"Nay, I doubt that," Athenais chimed in. " 'Tis no small part of the genius of M. le Vicomte's stroke that it will muddy the waters of the affair. By carrying me off he protects me from the scandal to which I would otherwise have been subject on your account. Since he accompanied you to the encounter before eloping with me, 'twill now be said that you plotted the whole business together. People will believe that 'twas out of friendship for him that you killed de Caylus, and not from love of me. And my father is no fool. He'll not let his anger against me deprive him of this chance to save the family honour."

Roger felt that her reasoning was sound. For her father to catch her if he could, and drag her back to throw her into a convent, would be as good as an admission that any rumours de Caylus's servants might spread about the cause of the duel were true; whereas a runaway match with a noble of de la Tour d'Auvergne's quality would give the whole matter an acceptably romantic twist, and save her reputation.

"I think you're right," he said, after a moment, "but none the less, if M. le Vicomte is to be saddled with such full complicity in the slaying of de Caylus, 'tis more than ever important that you should use the utmost speed in reaching Brittany. Our good hackney coachman has served us well in carrying us clear of the Rue St. Honore without trouble, but you must secure some far swifter vehicle with a minimum of delay."

" 'Tis all arranged," the Vicomte announced. "As soon as I reached my lodging I gave instructions to Jacques about our journey. We are now on our way to a rendezvous with him at the Red Mill, up on Montmartre. While I took this hackney to the Hotel de Rochambeau he was to pack for me, then engage a post-chaise with a team of six and be waiting for us there."

"Why at Montmartre?" asked Roger. " 'Tis to the north of Paris and the road to Brittany lies to the west."

De la Tour d'Auvergne smiled in the darkness. "I promised our coachman a good reward to do as he was ordered without argument; but that will not stop his tongue wagging should he later be questioned by the police. If he thinks that we took the Amiens road it may fox them somewhat, for a few hours at least; and the detour to bring us round on to our true course is not considerable."

" 'Twas well planned," Roger agreed. "But tell me now, how you succeeded in carrying Athenais off with so little fuss? I'd have thought that Madame Marie-Ange would have brought the whole Hotel about your ears."

Athenais laughed. "Poor Marie-Ange! We left her locked up in a toilette."

" 'Twas amazingly simple," the Vicomte added. "By the time I reached the Hotel 'twas near half-past eleven; but I sent up a message that I had urgent news for Athenais and by good fortune she had not yet retired. She received me with Madame Velot and, just as you had urged me to, I related all that had passed without reserve."

" 'Tis cruel of me to laugh," Athenais took up the tale, "but 'twas vastly diverting, now that one can look back upon it. No sooner did Marie-Ange' learn that for near a year past you and I had been carrying on a clandestine affair beneath her nose than she fainted dead away. Whether from shock to her sensibilities or from fear of what my father would say to her, I know not; but it gave M. le Vicomte the chance he was seeking to beg me to save myself and make him happy."

"And on Mademoiselle consenting to entrust herself to me, I carried her duenna to the closet and locked her in," de la Tour d'Auvergne went on. " 'Twas an anxious ten minutes while my newly-betrothed collected her jewels and a night-bag, but all went well. I feared, too, that on seeing her about to leave the house alone with me at night the servants would run to acquaint M. le Marquis with so unusual an occurrence, and that he would order them to detain us before we could reach the coach. But not a soul did we see; the hall was empty and we made our exit without anyone being aware of it."

" 'Twas my unconscious good fortune to have cleared the way for you," Roger smiled. "The servants had all congregated in my office, and were striving to break down the door between it and M. le Marquis's sanctum."

"But what in the world possessed you to return to the Hotel. I thought you well upon the road to Le Havre or Calais."

Roger felt a horrid qualm about deceiving his friends; but they knew nothing of the intricacies of international affairs and he doubted if he could persuade them that his betrayal of M. de Rochambeau was justified by the chance it offered of preventing war. So he said a little hurriedly:

"I returned to collect my money and some other things. But, alas! I accomplished neither. Though, fortunately, I took the precaution of putting ten louis in my pocket against an emergency before I left for the Bois de Meudon. On my return I became involved in a conference that M. le Marquis was holding, and 'twould have provoked the most awkward questions had I attempted to leave before 'twas over. The affair was not concluded till midnight; then, just as I was hoping to get away, Count Lucien came on the scene. He told his father every­thing and 'twas that which precipitated the riot that you heard."