Dennis Wheatley - The Launching of Roger Brook

The coach had now dropped into a walking pace and, as it-mounted the steep hill toward Montmartre, Roger related the outcome of Count Lucien's denunciation. He had hardly done when it breasted the rise and turned towards Clichy. A quarter of a mile further on it pulled up in an open space beneath the shadow of the big red wmdmill that dominated the height. A figure appeared at the window and threw the coach door open. It was Jacques, who announced that he had the post-chaise there in readiness.

They got out and while Roger escorted Athenais over to the chaise the Vicomte paid off the hackney coachman liberally. The two friends then moved aside out of earshot of the servants.

"How do you now intend to proceed?" asked de la Tour d'Auvergne.

"I shall make for Dieppe, since 'tis the nearest port to Paris," replied Roger.

" 'Tis a hundred miles and you will have to ride all night, unless you are to be passed by the couriers that will be despatched to close the ports against you. Count Lucien's wound not having proved serious enough to keep him at Meudon has deprived us of the long start we thought was ours. By now he and his father may be at the Ministry of Police, and if M. de Crosne proves readily available warrants will be issued for our arrest within,an hour or so."

"I know it," Roger agreed glumly. "And I have yet to find a horse to carry me the first stage of my journey."

"Jacques has brought my two mounts as well as his own. The best of the pair I used to take me to Meudon and back so he is not fit for much else to-night, but you are welcome to the other."

"A thousand thanks. I'll not refuse your offer."

"Allowing for only brief halts to change horses on the road, 'tis a twelve-hour ride. Do you think that after what you have already been through to-night you can keep the saddle for so long?"

" 'Tis that which gives me most concern," Roger agreed. "Could I but rest for a few hours before making a start I'd do it easily enough; but that is impossible."

De la Tour d'Auvergne considered for a moment, then he said: "Why not come with us to Brittany? Once there you could hide for a while. My people would never betray you, and within a week or so I would find a trustworthy Captain to take you across to England."

Roger was tempted to accept, but the imperative necessity of reaching London by the 3rd, or at latest, the 4th of September, and the additional danger that he would bring upon his friends by remaining with them, made him feel that he ought to gamble everything on attempting to get through on his own, and at once.

" 'Tis mighty generous of you," he said. "But for all our sakes 'tis best that we should separate. The main hue and cry will be after me. If M. de Crosne's people pick up traces of me in my dash into Normandy 'tis unlikely that they will bother themselves so much about you. But if they learn that I am with you in the chaise they'll concentrate on that. Then, if they catch us, Athenais, as well as we two, would be hauled back to Paris."

"There's sense in that," the Vicomte nodded. "Yet I fear you may fall off your horse from fatigue on the last stage to Dieppe. Wait, though! I have it! I'll order the chaise to take us to Mantes. 'Tis midway between your route and ours. Thus we shall leave no tidings of our passing to our pursuers on either of the roads they would expect us to take. On reaching there we will separate; but 'tis a good thirty miles and while we cover them you can rest yourself in the chaise. Twould give you a far better chance of reaching Dieppe without collapsing."

Roger barely hesitated. If he did collapse and was forced to halt on the road it was certain that M. de Crosne's couriers would pass him while he slept. His chances of getting safely across the Channel would then be enormously reduced as, by the time he reached the port, every Captain would have been warned to be on the look-out for him.

"Yes," he said, " 'twould not only give me a few hours free from exertion, but also reduce the distance I have to ride to seventy-five miles. I will gladly come with you as far as Mantes."

As they turned towards the post-chaise Roger took a last look at Paris. Despite the lateness of the hour lights were still shining from many dormer windows and there was no sense of repose about that city of violent contrasts. Underneath the myriad roofs down there in the valley many hundreds of nobles and several thousand wealthy bourgeois would-be-nobles, clad in their rich silks and satins, with powdered hair, patches and quizzing-glasses, were gambling at innumerable tables or supping off the fat of the land with their latest mistresses; while five times their number of servants aped their ways yet hated and envied them; and fifty times their number of fellow human beings, overworked, underpaid, half-starved, were taking such rest as they could get in conditions of the utmost misery and squalor.

The moon emerging from behind a bank of scudding cloud silvered the uneven, close-packed ranks of gables and threw the open spaces up as blanks of deep shadow. Following the bend of the river Roger picked out the He de la Cite, the vast quadrangle made by the Palace and, beyond it, the empty blackness of the Tuileries' gardens. It was there, before the trees shed their leaves many times again, thatMadame la Guillotine would be set up to do her deadly work, striking down the innocent as well as the guilty with blind impartiality.

Had Georgina been present her strange gift might have enabled her to see its sinister shadow; but Roger was simply wondering whether he would ever see Paris again as a free man, or be brought back there within the next few days, as a manacled prisoner, to meet an infamous death upon the scaffold.

"Come! 'Tis no time to dally," called de la Tour d'Auvergne; and, running over to the post-chaise, Roger scrambled in. Jacques was already mounted, and holding the bridles of the two led horses. As Roger slammed the door of the carriage the postilion cracked his whip and they were off.

For a little while, as they drove between the scattered farms and windmills on the heights of Clichy, they talked; but by the time they reached the village of Asnieres they had fallen silent. All three of them were now feeling the reaction from the hours of strain and excitement through which they had passed, the post-road was broad and even, and the chaise a well-sprung one; its rhythmic rocking had a soporific effect on their over-wrought minds, and before they passed south of the bend in the Seine to the east of St. Germain they were asleep.

Two hours later they shook themselves awake and descended in the yard of the Auberge du Grand Cerf at Mantes. Such post-houses were well used to travellers with urgent business arriving at all hours, and the night ostlers had already run out to change the horses. The door of the inn was unbolted after a few moments by a sleepy serving man who had just pulled on his jacket. Lantern in hand, he invited them to enter and take a cup of wine while the chaise was being furnished with its relay.

De la Tour d'Auvergne pulled out his watch, glanced at it, and said: " 'Tis barely half-past three, so we have made good time, and I confess to being plaguey hungry. We can well afford twenty minutes for a scratch meal before we take the road again. What say you to it?"

Athehais smiled as she took the arm he offered. " 'Tis said that a wife's first duty is to see her husband lacks not for his creature comforts, so I pray you, Monsieur, order what you will and I'll encourage you by partaking of a few tid-bits."

Whatever they can give us will be welcome," Roger supported her. "For I, too, am now remembering the fact that to-night I missed my supper."

The serving man led them into the inn parlour; then produced part of a cold ham, bread, butter, cheese and two bottles of Corton. Although the night was not cold they ate and drank standing round the smouldering ashes of the fire, conscious that they dared not linger, yet finding little to say to one another now that the time for Roger to leave the others had so nearly come.