The gendarme looked towards Corentin as if expecting an order. But Gothard's speech was evidently so true and yet so false, so perfectly innocent and so artful that the two Parisians again looked at each other as if to echo Peyrade's former words: "They are not ninnies."Monsieur d'Hauteserre seemed incapable of a word; the mayor was bewildered; the mother, imbecile from maternal fears, was putting questions to the police agents that were idiotically innocent; the servants had been roused from their sleep. Judging by these trifling signs, and these diverse characters, Corentin came to the conclusion that his only real adversary was Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne. Shrewd and dexterous as the police may be, they are always under certain disadvantages. Not only are they forced to discover all that is known to a conspirator, but they must also suppose and test a great number of things before they hit upon the right one. The conspirator is always thinking of his own safety, whereas the police is only on duty at certain hours. Were it not for treachery and betrayals, nothing would be easier than to conspire successfully. The conspirator has more mind concentrated upon himself than the police can bring to bear with all its vast facilities of action. Finding themselves stopped short morally, as they might be physically by a door which they expected to find open being shut in their faces, Corentin and Peyrade saw they were tricked and misled, without knowing by whom.
"I assert," said the corporal of Arcis, in their ear, "that if the four young men slept here last night it must have been in the beds of their father and mother, and Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne, or those of the servants; or they must have spent the night in the park. There is not a trace of their presence.""Who could have warned them?" said Corentin, to Peyrade. "No one but the First Consul, Fouche, the ministers, the prefect of police, and Malin knew anything about it.""We must set spies in the neighborhood," whispered Peyrade.
"And watch the spies," said the abbe, who smiled as he overheard the word and guessed all.
"Good God!" thought Corentin, replying to the abbe's smile with one of his own; "there is but one intelligent being here,--he's the one to come to an understanding with; I'll try him.""Gentlemen--" said the mayor, anxious to give some proof of devotion to the First Consul and addressing the two agents.
"Say 'citizens'; the Republic still exists," interrupted Corentin, looking at the priest with a quizzical air.
"Citizens," resumed the mayor, "just as I entered this salon and before I had opened my mouth Catherine rushed in and took her mistress's hat, gloves, and whip."A low murmur of horror came from the breasts of all the household except Gothard. All eyes but those of the agent and the gendarmes were turned threateningly on Goulard, the informer, seeming to dart flames at him.
"Very good, citizen mayor," said Peyrade. "We see it all plainly. Some one" (this with a glance of evident distrust at Corentin) "warned the citizeness Cinq-Cygne in time.""Corporal, handcuff that boy," said Corentin, to the gendarme, "and take him away by himself. And shut up that girl, too," pointing to Catherine. "As for you, Peyrade, search for papers," adding in his ear, "Ransack everything, spare nothing.--Monsieur l'abbe," he said, confidentially, "I have an important communication to make to you";and he took him into the garden.
"Listen to me attentively, monsieur," he went on; "you seem to have the mind of a bishop, and (no one can hear us) you will understand me.
