Александр Дюма
The Queen's Necklace
CHAPTER XXVII.
MESSRS. BŒHMER AND BOSSANGE
M. Ducorneau blessed heaven repeatedly for sending an ambassador who preferred his speaking French to Portuguese, and liked Portuguese wines better than French ones. At last, Manoël expressed a wish to go to bed; Ducorneau rose and left the room, although, it must be confessed, he found some difficulty in the operation.
It was now the turn of the valet to have supper, which he did with great good-will.
The next day the hotel assumed an air of business; all the bureaux were opened, and everything indicated life in the recently deserted place.
The report soon spread in the neighborhood that some great personages had arrived from Portugal during the night. This, although what was wanted to give them credit, could not but inspire the conspirators with some alarm; for the police had quick ears and Argus eyes. Still, they thought that by audacity, combined with prudence, they might easily keep them from becoming suspicious, until they had had time to complete their business.
Two carriages containing the other nine associates arrived, as agreed upon, and they were soon installed in their different departments.
Beausire induced Ducorneau himself to dismiss the porter, on the ground that he did not speak Portuguese. They were, therefore, in a good situation to keep off all unwelcome visitors.
About noon, Don Manoël, gaily dressed, got into a carriage, which they had hired for five hundred francs a month, and set out, with his secretary, for the residence of MM. Bœhmer and Bossange.
Their servant knocked at the door, which was secured with immense locks, and studded with great nails, like that of a prison. A servant opened it. "His Excellency the Ambassador of Portugal desires to speak to MM. Bœhmer and Bossange."
They got out, and M. Bœhmer came to them in a few moments, and received them with a profusion of polite speeches, but, seeing that the ambassador did not deign even a smile in reply, looked somewhat disconcerted.
"His excellency does not speak or understand French, sir, and you must communicate to him through me, if you do not speak Portuguese," said Beausire.
"No, monsieur, I do not."
Manoël then spoke in Portuguese to Beausire, who, turning to M. Bœhmer, said:
"His excellency M. le Comte de Souza, ambassador from the Queen of Portugal, desires me to ask you if you have not in your possession a beautiful diamond necklace?"
Bœhmer looked at him scrutinizingly.
"A beautiful diamond necklace!" repeated he.
"The one which you offered to the Queen of France, and which our gracious queen has heard of."
"Monsieur," said Bœhmer, "is an officer of the ambassador's?"
"His secretary, monsieur."
Don Manoël was seated with the air of a great man, looking carelessly at the pictures which hung round the room.
"M. Bœhmer," said Beausire abruptly, "do you not understand what I am saying to you?"
"Yes, sir," answered Bœhmer, rather startled by the manner of the secretary.
"Because I see his excellency is becoming impatient."
"Excuse me, sir," said Bœhmer, coloring, "but I dare not show the necklace, except in my partner's presence."
"Well, sir, call your partner."
Don Manoël approached Beausire, and began again talking to him in Portuguese.
"His excellency says," interpreted he, "that he has already waited ten minutes, and that he is not accustomed to be kept waiting."
Bœhmer bowed, and rang the bell. A minute afterwards M. Bossange entered.
Bœhmer explained the matter to him, who, after looking scrutinizingly at the Portuguese, left the room with a key given him by his partner, and soon returned with a case in one hand; the other was hidden under his coat, but they distinctly saw the shining barrel of a pistol.
"However well we may look," said Manoël gravely, in Portuguese, to his companion, "these gentlemen seem to take us for pickpockets rather than ambassadors."
M. Bossange advanced, and put the case into the hands of Manoël. He opened it, and then cried angrily to his secretary:
"Monsieur, tell these gentlemen that they tire my patience! I ask for a diamond necklace, and they bring me paste. Tell them I will complain to the ministers, and will have them thrown into the Bastile, impertinent people, who play tricks upon an ambassador." And he threw down the case in such a passion that they did not need an interpretation of his speech, but began explaining most humbly that in France it was usual to show only the models of diamonds, so as not to tempt people to robbery, were they so inclined.
Manoël, with an indignant gesture, walked towards the door.
"His excellency desires me to tell you," said Beausire, "that he is sorry that people like MM. Bœhmer and Bossange, jewelers to the queen, should not know better how to distinguish an ambassador from a rogue, and that he will return to his hotel."
The jewelers began to utter most respectful protestations, but Manoël walked on, and Beausire followed him.
"To the ambassador's hotel, Rue de la Jussienne," said Beausire to the footman.
"A lost business," groaned the valet, as they set off.
"On the contrary, a safe one; in an hour these men will follow us."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE AMBASSADOR'S HOTEL
On returning to their hotel, these gentlemen found Ducorneau dining quietly in his bureau. Beausire desired him, when he had finished, to go up and see the ambassador, and added:
"You will see, my dear chancellor, that M. de Souza is not an ordinary man."
"I see that already."
"His excellency," continued Beausire, "wishes to take a distinguished position in Paris, and this residence will be insupportable to him. He will require a private house."
"That will complicate the diplomatic business," said Ducorneau; "we shall have to go so often to obtain his signature."
"His excellency will give you a carriage, M. Ducorneau."
"A carriage for me!"
"Certainly; every chancellor of a great ambassador should have a carriage. But we will talk of that afterwards. His excellency wishes to know where the strong-box is."
"Up-stairs, close to his own room."
"So far from you?"
"For greater safety, sir. Robbers would find greater difficulty in penetrating there, than here on the ground-floor."
"Robbers!" said Beausire, disdainfully, "for such a little sum?"
"One hundred thousand francs!" said Ducorneau. "It is easy to see M. de Souza is rich, but there is not more kept in any ambassador's house in Europe."
"Shall we examine it now?" said Beausire. "I am rather in a hurry to attend to my own business."
"Immediately, monsieur."
They went up and the money was found all right.
Ducorneau gave his key to Beausire, who kept it for some time, pretending to admire its ingenious construction, while he cleverly took the impression of it in wax. Then he gave it back, saying, "Keep it, M. Ducorneau; it is better in your hands than in mine. Let us now go to the ambassador."
They found Don Manoël drinking chocolate, and apparently much occupied with a paper covered with ciphers.
"Do you understand the ciphers used in the late correspondence?" said he to the chancellor.
"No, your excellency."
"I should wish you to learn it; it will save me a great deal of trouble. What about the box?" said he to Beausire.
"Perfectly correct, like everything else with which M. Ducorneau has any connection."
"Well, sit down, M. Ducorneau; I want you to give me some information. Do you know any honest jewelers in Paris?"
"There are MM. Bœhmer and Bossange, jewelers to the queen."
"But they are precisely the people I do not wish to employ. I have just quitted them, never to return."
"Have they had the misfortune to displease your excellency?"
"Seriously, M. Ducorneau."
"Oh, if I dared speak."
"You may."
"I would ask how these people, who bear so high a name – "
"They are perfect Jews, M. Ducorneau, and their bad behavior will make them lose a million or two. I was sent by her gracious majesty to make an offer to them for a diamond necklace."
"Oh! the famous necklace which had been ordered by the late king for Madame Dubarry?"
"You are a valuable man, sir – you know everything. Well, now, I shall not buy it."
"Shall I interfere?"
"M. Ducorneau!"
"Oh, only as a diplomatic affair."
"If you knew them at all."
"Bossange is a distant relation of mine."
At this moment a valet opened the door, and announced MM. Bœhmer and Bossange. Don Manoël rose quickly, and said in any angry tone, "Send those people away!"
The valet made a step forward. "No; you do it," said he to his secretary.
"I beg you to allow me," said Ducorneau; and he advanced to meet them.
"There! this affair is destined to fail," said Manoël.
"No; Ducorneau will arrange it."
"I am convinced he will embroil it. You said at the jewelers that I did not understand French, and Ducorneau will let out that I do."
"I will go," said Beausire.
"Perhaps that is equally dangerous."
"Oh, no; only leave me to act."
Beausire went down. Ducorneau had found the jewelers much more disposed to politeness and confidence since entering the hotel; also, on seeing an old friend, Bossange was delighted.
"You here!" said he; and he approached to embrace him.
"Ah! you are very amiable to-day, my rich cousin," said Ducorneau.
"Oh," said Bossange, "if we have been a little separated, forgive, and render me a service."
"I came to do it."
"Thanks. You are, then, attached to the embassy?"
"Yes."
"I want advice."
"On what?"
"On this embassy."
"I am the chancellor."
"That is well; but about the ambassador?"
"I come to you, on his behalf, to tell you that he begs you to leave his hotel as quickly as possible."
The two jewelers looked at each other, disconcerted.
"Because," continued Ducorneau, "it seems you have been uncivil to him."
"But listen – "
"It is useless," said Beausire, who suddenly appeared; "his excellency told you to dismiss them – do it."
"But, monsieur – "
"I cannot listen," said Beausire.
The chancellor took his relation by the shoulder, and pushed him out, saying, "You have spoiled your fortune."
"Mon Dieu! how susceptible these foreigners are!"
"When one is called Souza, and has nine hundred thousand francs a year, one has a right to be anything," said Ducorneau.
"Ah!" sighed Bossange, "I told you, Bœhmer, you were too stiff about it."
"Well," replied the obstinate German, "at least, if we do not get his money, he will not get our necklace."
Ducorneau laughed. "You do not understand either a Portuguese or an ambassador, bourgeois that you are. I will tell you what they are: one ambassador, M. de Potemkin, bought every year for his queen, on the first of January, a basket of cherries which cost one hundred thousand crowns – one thousand francs a cherry. Well, M. de Souza will buy up the mines of Brazil till he finds a diamond as big as all yours put together. If it cost him twenty years of his income, what does he care? – he has no children."
And he was going to shut the door, when Bossange said:
"Arrange this affair, and you shall have – "
"I am incorruptible," said he, and closed the door.
That evening the ambassador received this letter:
"Monseigneur, – A man who waits for your orders, and desires to present you our respectful excuses, is at the door of your hotel, and at a word from your excellency he will place in the hands of one of your people the necklace of which you did us the honor to speak. Deign to receive, monseigneur, the assurances of our most profound respect.
"Bœhmer and Bossange."
"Well," said Manoël, on reading this note, "the necklace is ours."
"Not so," said Beausire; "it will only be ours when we have bought it. We must buy it; but remember, your excellency does not know French."
"Yes, I know; but this chancellor?"
"Oh, I will send him away on some diplomatic mission."
"You are wrong; he will be our security with these men."
"But he will say that you know French."
"No, he will not; I will tell him not to do so."
"Very well, then; we will have up the man."
The man was introduced: it was Bœhmer himself, who made many bows and excuses, and offered the necklace for examination.
"Sit down," said Beausire; "his excellency pardons you."
"Oh, how much trouble to sell!" sighed Bœhmer.
"How much trouble to steal!" thought Beausire.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE BARGAIN
Then the ambassador consented to examine the necklace in detail. M. Bœhmer showed each individual beauty.
"On the whole," said Beausire, interpreting for Manoël, "his excellency sees nothing to complain of in the necklace, but there are ten of the diamonds rather spotted."
"Oh!" said Bœhmer.
"His excellency," interrupted Beausire, "understands diamonds perfectly. The Portuguese nobility play with the diamonds of Brazil, as children do here with glass beads."
"Whatever it may be, however," said Bœhmer, "this necklace is the finest collection of diamonds in all Europe."
"That is true," said Manoël.
Then Beausire went on: "Well, M. Bœhmer, her majesty the Queen of Portugal has heard of this necklace, and has given M. de Souza a commission to buy it, if he approved of the diamonds, which he does. Now, what is the price?"
"1,600,000 francs."
Beausire repeated this to the ambassador.
"It is 100,000 francs too much," replied Manoël.
"Monseigneur," replied the jeweler, "one cannot fix the exact price of the diamonds on a thing like this. It has been necessary, in making this collection, to undertake voyages, and make searches and inquiries which no one would believe but myself."
"100,000 francs too dear," repeated Manoël.
"And if his excellency says this," said Beausire, "it must be his firm conviction, for he never bargains."
Bœhmer was shaken. Nothing reassures a suspicious merchant so much as a customer who beats down the price. However, he said, after a minute's thought, "I cannot consent to a deduction which will make all the difference of loss or profit to myself and my partner."
Don Manoël, after hearing this translated, rose, and Beausire returned the case to the jeweler.
"I will, however, speak to M. Bossange about it," contained Bœhmer. "I am to understand that his excellency offers 1,500,000 francs for the necklace."
"Yes, he never draws back from what he has said."
"But, monsieur, you understand that I must consult with my partner."
"Certainly, M. Bœhmer."
"Certainly," repeated Don Manoël, after hearing this translated; "but I must have a speedy answer."
"Well, monseigneur, if my partner will accept the price, I will."
"Good."
"It then only remains, excepting the consent of M. Bossange, to settle the mode of payment."
"There will be no difficulty about that," said Beausire. "How do you wish to be paid?"
"Oh," said Bœhmer, laughing, "if ready money be possible – "
"What do you call ready money?" said Beausire coldly.
"Oh, I know no one has a million and a half of francs ready to pay down," said Bœhmer, sighing.
"Certainly not."
"Still, I cannot consent to dispense with some ready money."
"That is but reasonable." Then, turning to Manoël: "How much will your excellency pay down to M. Bœhmer?"
"100,000 francs." Beausire repeated this.
"And when the remainder?" asked Bœhmer.
"When we shall have had time to send to Lisbon."
"Oh!" said Bœhmer, "we have a correspondent there, and by writing to him – "
"Yes," said Beausire, laughing ironically, "write to him, and ask if M. de Souza is solvent, and if her majesty be good for 1,400,000 francs."
"We cannot, sir, let this necklace leave France forever without informing the queen; and our respect and loyalty demand that we should once more give her the refusal of it."
"It is just," said Manoël, with dignity. "I should wish a Portuguese merchant to act in the same way."
"I am very happy that monseigneur approves of my conduct. Then all is settled, subject only to the consent of M. Bossange, and the reiterated refusal of her majesty. I ask three days to settle these two points."
"On one side," said Beausire, "100,000 francs down, the necklace to be placed in my hands, who will accompany you to Lisbon, to the honor of your correspondents, who are also our bankers. The whole of the money to be paid in three months."
"Yes, monseigneur," said Bœhmer, bowing.
Manoël returned it, and the jeweler took leave.
When they were alone, Manoël said angrily to Beausire, "Please to explain what the devil you mean by this journey to Portugal? Are you mad? Why not have the jewels here in exchange for our money?"
"You think yourself too really ambassador," replied Beausire; "you are not yet quite M. de Souza to this jeweler."
"If he had not thought so he would not have treated."
"Agreed; but every man in possession of 1,500,000 francs holds himself above all the ambassadors in the world; and every one who gives that value in exchange for pieces of paper wishes first to know what the papers are worth."
"Then you mean to go to Portugal – you, who cannot speak Portuguese properly? I tell you, you are mad."
"Not at all; you shall go yourself, if you like."
"Thank you," said Don Manoël. "There are reasons why I would rather not return to Portugal."
"Well, I tell you, M. Bœhmer would never give up the diamonds for mere papers."
"Papers signed Souza?"
"I said you thought yourself a real Souza."
"Better say at once that we have failed," said Manoël.
"Not at all. Come here, captain," said Beausire to the valet; "you know what we are talking of?"
"Yes."
"You have listened to everything?"
"Certainly."
"Very well; do you think I have committed a folly?"
"I think you perfectly right."
"Explain why."
"M. Bœhmer would, on the other plan, have been incessantly watching us, and all connected with us. Now, with the money and the diamonds both in his hands, he can have no suspicion, but will set out quietly for Portugal, which, however, he will never reach. Is it not so, M. Beausire?"
"Ah, you are a lad of discernment!"
"Explain your plan," said Manoël.
"About fifty leagues from here," said Beausire, "this clever fellow here will come and present two pistols at the heads of our postilions, will steal from us all we have, including the diamonds, and will leave M. Bœhmer half dead with blows."
"Oh, I did not understand exactly that," said the valet. "I thought you would embark for Portugal."
"And then – "
"M. Bœhmer, like all Germans, will like the sea, and walk on the deck. One day he may slip and fall over, and the necklace will be supposed to have perished with him."
"Oh, I understand," said Manoël.
"That is lucky at last."
"Only," replied Manoël, "for stealing diamonds one is simply sent to the Bastile, but for murder one is hanged."
"But for stealing diamonds one may be taken; for a little push to M. Bœhmer we should never even be suspected."
"Well, we will settle all this afterwards," said Beausire.
"At present let us conduct our business in style, so that they may say, 'If he was not really ambassador, at least he seemed like one.'"
CHAPTER XXX.
THE JOURNALIST'S HOUSE
It was the day after the agreement with M. Bœhmer, and three days after the ball at the Opera. In the Rue Montorgueil, at the end of a courtyard, was a high and narrow house. The ground floor was a kind of shop, and here lived a tolerably well-known journalist. The other stories were occupied by quiet people, who lived there for cheapness. M. Reteau, the journalist, published his paper weekly. It was issued on the day of which we speak; and when M. Reteau rose at eight o'clock, his servant brought him a copy, still wet from the press. He hastened to peruse it, with the care which a tender father bestows on the virtues or failings of his offspring. When he had finished it:
"Aldegonde," said he to the old woman, "this is a capital number; have you read it?"
"Not yet; my soup is not finished."
"It is excellent," repeated the journalist.
"Yes," said she; "but do you know what they say of it in the printing-office?"
"What?"
"That you will certainly be sent to the Bastile."
"Aldegonde," replied Reteau, calmly, "make me a good soup, and do not meddle with literature."
"Always the same," said she, "rash and imprudent."
"I will buy you some buckles with what I make to-day. Have many copies been sold yet?"
"No, and I fear my buckles will be but poor. Do you remember the number against M. de Broglie? We sold one hundred before ten o'clock; therefore this cannot be as good."
"Do you know the difference, Aldegonde? Now, instead of attacking an individual, I attack a body; and instead of a soldier, I attack a queen."
"The queen! Oh, then there is no fear; the numbers will sell, and I shall have my buckles."
"Some one rings," said Reteau.
The old woman ran to the shop, and returned a minute after, triumphant.
"One thousand copies!" said she, "there is an order!"
"In whose name?" asked Reteau, quickly.
"I do not know."
"But I want to know; run and ask."
"Oh, there is plenty of time; they cannot count a thousand copies in a minute."
"Yes, but be quick; ask the servant – is it a servant?"
"It is a porter."
"Well, ask him where he is to take them to."
Aldegonde went, and the man replied that he was to take them to the Rue Neuve St. Gilles, to the house of the Count de Cagliostro.
The journalist jumped with delight, and ran to assist in counting off the numbers.
They were not long gone when there was another ring.
"Perhaps that is for another thousand copies," cried Aldegonde. "As it is against the Austrian, every one will join in the chorus."
"Hush, hush, Aldegonde! do not speak so loud, but go and see who it is."
Aldegonde opened the door to a man, who asked if he could speak to the editor of the paper.
"What do you want to say to him?" asked Aldegonde, rather suspiciously.
The man rattled some money in his pocket, and said:
"I come to pay for the thousand copies sent for by M. le Comte de Cagliostro."
"Oh, come in!"
A young and handsome man, who had advanced just behind him, stopped him as he was about to shut the door, and followed him in.
Aldegonde ran to her master. "Come," said she, "here is the money for the thousand copies."
He went directly, and the man, taking out a small bag, paid down one hundred six-franc pieces.
Reteau counted them and gave a receipt, smiling graciously on the man, and said, "Tell the Count de Cagliostro that I shall always be at his orders, and that I can keep a secret."
"There is no need," replied the man; "M. de Cagliostro is independent. He does not believe in magnetism, and wishes to make people laugh at M. Mesmer – that is all."
"Good!" replied another voice; "we will see if we cannot turn the laugh against M. de Cagliostro;" and M. Reteau, turning, saw before him the young man we mentioned.
His glance was menacing; he had his left hand on the hilt of his sword, and a stick in his right.
"What can I do for you, sir?" said Reteau, trembling.
"You are M. Reteau?" asked the young man.
"Yes, sir."
"Journalist, and author of this article?" said the visitor, drawing the new number from his pocket.
"Not exactly the author, but the publisher," said Reteau.
"Very well, that comes to the same thing; for if you had not the audacity to write it, you have had the baseness to give it publicity. I say baseness, for, as I am a gentleman, I wish to keep within bounds even with you. If I expressed all I think, I should say that he who wrote this article is infamous, and that he who published it is a villain!"
"Monsieur!" said Reteau, growing pale.
"Now listen," continued the young man; "you have received one payment in money, now you shall have another in caning."
"Oh!" cried Reteau, "we will see about that."
"Yes, we will see," said the young man, advancing towards him; but Reteau was used to these sort of affairs, and knew the conveniences of his own house. Turning quickly round, he gained a door which shut after him, and which opened into a passage leading to a gate, through which there was an exit into the Rue Vieux Augustins. Once there, he was safe; for in this gate the key was always left, and he could lock it behind him.
But this day was an unlucky one for the poor journalist, for, just as he was about to turn the key, he saw coming towards him another young man, who, in his agitation, appeared to him like a perfect Hercules. He would have retreated, but he was now between two fires, as his first opponent had by this time discovered him, and was advancing upon him.
"Monsieur, let me pass, if you please," said Reteau to the young man who guarded the gate.
"Monsieur," cried the one who followed him, "stop the fellow, I beg!"
"Do not be afraid, M. de Charny; he shall not pass."
"M. de Taverney!" cried Charny; for it was really he who was the first comer.
Both these young men, on reading the article that morning, had conceived the same idea, because they were animated with the same sentiments, and, unknown to each other, had hastened to put it in practise. Each, however, felt a kind of displeasure at seeing the other, divining a rival in the man who had the same idea as himself. Thus it was that with a rather disturbed manner Charny had called out, "You, M. de Taverney!"
"Even so," replied the other, in the same way; "but it seems I am come too late, and can only look on, unless you will be kind enough to open the gate."
"Oh!" cried Reteau, "do you want to murder me, gentlemen?"
"No," said Charny, "we do not want to murder you; but first we will ask a few questions, then we will see the end. You permit me to speak, M. de Taverney?"
"Certainly, sir; you have the precedence, having arrived first."
Charny bowed; then, turning to Reteau, said:
"You confess, then, that you have published against the queen the playful little tale, as you call it, which appeared this morning in your paper?"
"Monsieur, it is not against the queen."
"Good! it only wanted that."
"You are very patient, sir!" cried Philippe, who was boiling with rage outside the gate.
"Oh, be easy, sir," replied Charny; "he shall lose nothing by waiting."
"Yes," murmured Philippe; "but I also am waiting."
Charny turned again to Reteau. "Etteniotna is Antoinette transposed – oh, do not lie, sir, or instead of beating, or simply killing you, I shall burn you alive! But tell me if you are the sole author of this?"
"I am not an informer," said Reteau.
"Very well; that means that you have an accomplice; and, first, the man who bought a thousand copies of this infamy, the Count de Cagliostro; but he shall pay for his share, when you have paid for yours."
"Monsieur, I do not accuse him," said Reteau, who feared that he should encounter the anger of Cagliostro after he had done with these two.
Charny raised his cane.
"Oh, if I had a sword!" cried Reteau.
"M. Philippe, will you lend your sword to this man?"
"No, M. de Charny, I cannot lend my sword to a man like that; but I will lend you my cane, if yours does not suffice."
"Corbleu! a cane!" cried Reteau. "Do you know that I am a gentleman?"
"Then lend me your sword, M. de Taverney; he shall have mine, and I will never touch it again!" cried Charny.
Philippe unsheathed his sword, and passed it through the railings.
"Now," said Charny, throwing down his sword at the feet of Reteau, "you call yourself a gentleman, and you write such infamies against the Queen of France; pick up that sword, and let us see what kind of a gentleman you are."
But Reteau did not stir; he seemed as afraid of the sword at his feet as he had been of the uplifted cane.
"Morbleu!" cried Philippe, "open the gate to me!"
"Pardon, monsieur," said Charny, "but you acknowledged my right to be first."
"Then be quick, for I am in a hurry to begin."
"I wished to try other methods before resorting to this, for I am not much more fond of inflicting a caning than M. Reteau is of receiving one; but as he prefers it to fighting, he shall be satisfied;" and a cry from Reteau soon announced that Charny had begun.
The noise soon attracted old Aldegonde, who joined her voice to her master's.
Charny minded one no more than the other; at last, however, he stopped, tired with his work.
"Now have you finished, sir?" said Philippe.
"Yes."
"Then pray return me my sword, and let me in."
"Oh, no, monsieur!" implored Reteau, who hoped for a protector in the man who had finished with him.
"I cannot leave monsieur outside the door," said Charny.
"Oh, it is a murder!" cried Reteau. "Kill me right off, and have done with it!"
"Be easy," said Charny; "I do not think monsieur will touch you."
"You are right," said Philippe; "you have been beaten – let it suffice; but there are the remaining numbers, which must be destroyed."
"Oh yes!" cried Charny. "You see, two heads are better than one; I should have forgotten that. But how did you happen to come to this gate, M. de Taverney?"
"I made some inquiries in the neighborhood about this fellow, and hearing that he had this mode of escape, I thought by coming in here, and locking the gate after me, I should cut off his retreat, and make sure of him. The same idea of vengeance struck you, only more in a hurry, you came straight to his house without any inquiries, and he would have escaped you if I had not luckily been here."
"I am rejoiced that you were, M. de Taverney. Now, fellow, lead us to your press."
"It is not here," said Reteau.
"A lie!" said Charny.
"No, no," cried Philippe, "we do not want the press; the numbers are all printed and here, except those sold to M. de Cagliostro."
"Then he shall burn them before our eyes!"
And they pushed Reteau into his shop.
