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burst of maniacal laughter. Whilst my attention was thus drawn to the auditory environment, the thought
crossed my mind that, if one closed one's eyes, it sounded very much like the interior of an insane asylum.
And that thought brought back an old memory, which I tried to retain in a place where I hoped it would
be ready for use. I recalled hearing that my brother, since his last emergence from underground, had
fallen into the habit of visiting such places as Charenton, amusing himself with the inmates. More
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particularly Radu had taken a special interest in one prisoner what had his name been? A Frenchman,
yes, and an aristocrat. The Marquis, marquis of something or other, and cruelly insane&
My client had given up trying to pace in the cramped quarters, and had found his voice again. He kept it
low, as if by instinct, as he called me by the name I had given him at his chateau. Nervously casting
glances at the door and its peephole, in an urgent whisper he repeated: "But what are you doing here,
M'sieu& CitizenLegrand? How did you& ?"
"I have my ways," I assured him, in a normal voice. "Be of good cheer, Mr. Radcliffe. To get you out of
La Conciergerie will be somewhat more difficult than getting myself in, but, believe me, it is well within my
range of competence. Out from behind these walls, and then a few neatly forged papers& passage to the
coast arranged, and then abroad. Three weeks from today you will very likely find yourself seated in
some snug London tavern, regaling your friends there with some story explaining your improbable
escape."
"Melanie," he said, making the one word a meaningful declaration.
"Very well, Melanie too. So, it is that way between the two of you. Well, why not?" And at that moment
I was on the brink of trying to explain to him how his relationship with his beloved might be altered by the
choice of means adopted to effect his release. But I let it pass. Everything I had told him so far was the
truth. If not quite the whole truth, well there would be time for that.
"Have you seen her? Is she well?"
"I have." I did not specify where. "And she is."
And all the time the rain was dripping, dripping mournfully somewhere outside. In the distance thunder
grumbled.
Hope had now been born in Radcliffe's eyes, and I could see that his mind was racing to establish a
basis for it. In the fertile soil of America, almost any seed could grow, and quickly. But he remained
prudently wary of tricks and impossibilities. In his own fluent but accented French he once more
demanded: "How did you get into this cell?"
"I have my own methods," I repeated. "Be reassured by the fact that stone walls and locks present small
obstacles to me. As they would to you, if a certain transformation in your nature were to be effected."
"Transformation in my nature?" Radcliffe looked at the door and nodded sagely, as if he understood.
Then he turned to face me again, and admitted: "I don't understand this at all."
"Nevertheless. If such barriers, and a few armed guards, were our only problems, you could be free
already."
He stared at me, ready to dispute me. But here I was standing in front of him, in defiance of all logic,
locks, and fanatical guards; evidently I could not be such an idiot as my claims made me sound.
He asked the question as if he hoped that I was not a madman: "What is it that truly confines me, then?"
"That is an intelligent question. The answer is: You have a very powerful enemy."
"Do you mean Robespierre? Or Fouquier-Tinville, the prosecutor?"
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I shook my head. "I mean a man more dangerous than either, hard as that may be to believe. A drinker
of blood indeed, and one who does not mean to rest until he has drained yours to the last drop."
"And this enemy does not want me to get out of prison."
"Oh, on the contrary! Your most dangerous enemy will be happier if you are free to wander, out of my
protection. We must consider carefully what we are going to do about him."
On my entry, my client had looked at me as if doubting his own sanity. But now his expression suggested
that he thought I was the lunatic.
I gave up the task of explanation for the time being. "I bring you an interesting bit of news."
"Oh?"
"You are to have a visitor soon, perhaps within the hour. A woman named Marie Grosholtz will call on
you; she happens to be the cousin of Melanie Romain."
His eyes lit up. "Marie ? Yes! Melanie has told me of her cousin Marie. I know her address here in
Paris, though I have never met the woman. I thought she was some kind of teacher& but she comes to
me on some official task?"
"Semiofficial, at least. As part of her regular employment, she calls frequently on people who are in your
situation." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]