Castles in the Air | Page 3

in the grass--a serpent--a crocodile! Even now that I have entirely
severed my connexion with that ingrate, I seem to feel the wounds, like
dagger-thrusts, which he dealt me with so callous a hand. But I have
done with him--done, I tell you! How could I do otherwise than to send
him back to the gutter from whence I should never have dragged him?
My goodness, he repaid with an ingratitude so black that you, Sir, when
you hear the full story of his treachery, will exclaim aghast.

Ah, you shall judge! His perfidy commenced less than a week after I
had given him my third best pantaloons and three sous to get his hair
cut, thus making a man of him. And yet, you would scarcely believe it,
in the matter of the secret documents he behaved toward me like a
veritable Judas!
Listen, my dear Sir.
I told you, I believe, that I had my office in the Rue Daunou. You
understand that I had to receive my clients--many of whom were of
exalted rank---in a fashionable quarter of Paris. But I actually lodged in
Passy--being fond of country pursuits and addicted to fresh air--in a
humble hostelry under the sign of the "Grey Cat"; and here, too,
Theodore had a bed. He would walk to the office a couple of hours
before I myself started on the way, and I was wont to arrive as soon
after ten o'clock of a morning as I could do conveniently.
On this memorable occasion of which I am about to tell you--it was
during the autumn of 1815--I had come to the office unusually early,
and had just hung my hat and coat in the outer room, and taken my seat
at my desk in the inner office, there to collect my thoughts in
preparation for the grave events which the day might bring forth, when,
suddenly, an ill-dressed, dour-looking individual entered the room
without so much as saying, "By your leave," and after having pushed
Theodore--who stood by like a lout--most unceremoniously to one side.
Before I had time to recover from my surprise at this unseemly
intrusion, the uncouth individual thrust Theodore roughly out of the
room, slammed the door in his face, and having satisfied himself that
he was alone with, me and that the door was too solid to allow of
successful eavesdropping, he dragged the best chair forward--the one,
sir, which I reserve for lady visitors.
He threw his leg across it, and, sitting astride, he leaned his elbows
over the back and glowered at me as if he meant to frighten me.
"My name is Charles Saurez," he said abruptly, "and I want your
assistance in a matter which requires discretion, ingenuity and alertness.
Can I have it?"

I was about to make a dignified reply when he literally threw the next
words at me: "Name your price, and I will pay it!" he said.
What could I do, save to raise my shoulders in token that the matter of
money was one of supreme indifference to me, and my eyebrows in a
manner of doubt that M. Charles Saurez had the means wherewith to
repay my valuable services? By way of a rejoinder he took out from the
inner pocket of his coat a greasy letter-case, and with his exceedingly
grimy fingers extracted therefrom some twenty banknotes, which a
hasty glance on my part revealed as representing a couple of hundred
francs.
"I will give you this as a retaining fee," he said, "if you will undertake
the work I want you to do; and I will double the amount when you have
carried the work out success fully."
Four hundred francs! It was not lavish, it was perhaps not altogether the
price I would have named, but it was vary good, these hard times. You
understand? We were all very poor in France in that year 1815 of which
I speak.
I am always quite straightforward when I am dealing with a client who
means business. I pushed aside the litter of papers in front of me,
leaned my elbows upon my desk, rested my chin in my hands, and said
briefly:
"M. Charles Saurez, I listen!"
He drew his chair a little closer and dropped his voice almost to a
whisper.
"You know the Chancellerie of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs?" he
asked.
"Perfectly," I replied.
"You know M. de Marsan's private office? He is chief secretary to M.
de Talleyrand."

"No," I said, "but I can find out."
"It is on the first floor, immediately facing the service staircase, and at
the end of the long passage which leads to the main staircase."
"Easy to find, then," I remarked.
"Quite. At this hour and until twelve o'clock, M. de Marsan will be
occupied