第92章

"Give an ell of blue cloth to those fellows, and hang a bit of iron at their waists," he said to himself, "and they'll think there's but one way to kill people." Then, after walking up and down awhile very slowly, he exclaimed suddenly, "Yes, the time has come, that woman shall be mine! For five years I've been drawing the net round her, and I have her now; with her, I can be a greater man in the government than Fouche himself.Yes, if she loses the only man she has ever loved, grief will give her to me, body and soul; but I must be on the watch night and day."A few moments later the pale face of this man might have been seen through the window of a house, from which he could observe all who entered the cul-de-sac formed by the line of houses running parallel with Saint-Leonard, one of those houses being that now occupied by Mademoiselle de Verneuil.With the patience of a cat watching a mouse Corentin was there in the same place on the following morning, attentive to the slightest noise, and subjecting the passers-by to the closest examination.The day that was now beginning was a market-day.

Although in these calamitous times the peasants rarely risked themselves in the towns, Corentin presently noticed a small man with a gloomy face, wrapped in a goatskin, and carrying on his arm a small flat basket; he was making his way in the direction of Mademoiselle de Verneuil's house, casting careless glances about him.Corentin watched him enter the house; then he ran down into the street, meaning to waylay the man as he left; but on second thoughts it occurred to him that if he called unexpectedly on Mademoiselle de Verneuil he might surprise by a single glance the secret that was hidden in the basket of the emissary.Besides, he had already learned that it was impossible to extract anything from the inscrutable answers of Bretons and Normans.

"Galope-Chopine!" cried Mademoiselle de Verneuil, when Francine brought the man to her."Does he love me?" she murmured to herself, in a low voice.

The instinctive hope sent a brilliant color to her cheeks and joy into her heart.Galope-Chopine looked alternately from the mistress to the maid with evident distrust of the latter; but a sign from Mademoiselle de Verneuil reassured him.

"Madame," he said, "about two o'clock /he/ will be at my house waiting for you."Emotion prevented Mademoiselle de Verneuil from giving any other reply than a movement of her head, but the man understood her meaning.At that moment Corentin's step was heard in the adjoining room, but Galope-Chopine showed no uneasiness, though Mademoiselle de Verneuil's look and shudder warned him of danger, and as soon as the spy had entered the room the Chouan raised his voice to an ear-splitting tone.

"Ha, ha!" he said to Francine, "I tell you there's Breton butter /and/Breton butter.You want the Gibarry kind, and you won't give more than eleven sous a pound; then why did you send me to fetch it? It is good butter that," he added, uncovering the basket to show the pats which Barbette had made."You ought to be fair, my good lady, and pay one sou more."His hollow voice betrayed no emotion, and his green eyes, shaded by thick gray eyebrows, bore Corentin's piercing glance without flinching.

"Nonsense, my good man, you are not here to sell butter; you are talking to a lady who never bargained for a thing in her life.The trade you run, old fellow, will shorten you by a head in a very few days"; and Corentin, with a friendly tap on the man's shoulder, added, "you can't keep up being a spy of the Blues and a spy of the Chouans very long."Galope-Chopine needed all his presence of mind to subdue his rage, and not deny the accusation which his avarice had made a just one.He contented himself with saying:--"Monsieur is making game of me."

Corentin turned his back on the Chouan, but, while bowing to Mademoiselle de Verneuil, whose heart stood still, he watched him in the mirror behind her.Galope-Chopine, unaware of this, gave a glance to Francine, to which she replied by pointing to the door, and saying, "Come with me, my man, and we will settle the matter between us."Nothing escaped Corentin, neither the fear which Mademoiselle de Verneuil could not conceal under a smile, nor her color and the contraction of her features, nor the Chouan's sign and Francine's reply; he had seen all.Convinced that Galope-Chopine was sent by the marquis, he caught the man by the long hairs of his goatskin as he was leaving the room, turned him round to face him, and said with a keen look: "Where do you live, my man? I want butter, too.""My good monsieur," said the Chouan, "all Fougeres knows where I live.

I am--"

"Corentin!" exclaimed Mademoiselle de Verneuil, interrupting Galope-Chopine."Why do you come here at this time of day? I am scarcely dressed.Let that peasant alone; he does not understand your tricks any more than I understand the motive of them.You can go, my man."Galope-Chopine hesitated a moment.The indecision, real or feigned, of the poor devil, who knew not which to obey, deceived even Corentin;but the Chouan, finally, after an imperative gesture from the lady, left the room with a dragging step.Mademoiselle de Verneuil and Corentin looked at each other in silence.This time Marie's limpid eyes could not endure the gleam of cruel fire in the man's look.The resolute manner in which the spy had forced his way into her room, an expression on his face which Marie had never seen there before, the deadened tones of his shrill voice, his whole demeanor,--all these things alarmed her; she felt that a secret struggle was about to take place between them, and that he meant to employ against her all the powers of his evil influence.But though she had at this moment a full and distinct view of the gulf into which she was plunging, she gathered strength from her love to shake off the icy chill of these presentiments.