Uncle Bernac: A Memory of the EmpireDoyle, Arthur Conan
History
Uncle Bernac: A Memory of the Empire
Doyle, Arthur Conan
France -- History -- Consulate and First Empire, 1799-1815 -- Fiction
'When he first came I mistook him for you in the darkness,' Lesage
answered. 'You will acknowledge that it was not a night on which one
would expect to meet many people in the salt-marsh. On discovering my
mistake I shut the door and concealed the papers in the chimney. I had
forgotten that he might see me do this through that crack by the hinges,
but when I went out again, to show him his way and so get rid of him, my
eye caught the gap, and I at once realised that he had seen my action,
and that it must have aroused his curiosity to such an extent that it
would be quite certain that he would think and speak of it. I called
him back into the hut, therefore, in order that I might have time to
consider what I had best do with him.'
'Sapristi! a couple of cuts of that wood-axe, and a bed in the softest
corner of the marsh, would have settled the business at once,' said the
fellow by my side.
'Quite true, my good Toussac; but it is not usual to lead off with your
ace of trumps. A little delicacy--a little finesse--'
'Let us hear what you did then?'
'It was my first object to learn whether this man Laval--'
'What did you say his name was?' cried the thin man.
'His name, according to his account, is Laval. My first object then was
to find out whether he had in truth seen me conceal the papers or not.
It was an important question for us, and, as things have turned out,
more important still for him. I made my little plan, therefore.
I waited until I saw you approach, and I then left him alone in the hut.
I watched through the window and saw him fly to the hiding-place.
We then entered, and I asked you, Toussac, to be good enough to lift him
down--and there he lies.'
The young fellow looked proudly round for the applause of his comrades,
and the thin man clapped his hands softly together, looking very hard at
me while he did so.
'My dear Lesage,' said he, 'you have certainly excelled yourself.
When our new republic looks for its minister of police we shall know
where to find him. I confess that when, after guiding Toussac to this
shelter, I followed you in and perceived a gentleman's legs projecting
from the fireplace, even my wits, which are usually none of the slowest,
hardly grasped the situation. Toussac, however, grasped the legs.
He is always practical, the good Toussac.'
'Enough words!' growled the hairy creature beside me. 'It is because we
have talked instead of acting that this Buonaparte has a crown upon his
head or a head upon his shoulders. Let us have done with the fellow and
come to business.'
The refined features of Lesage made me look towards him as to a possible
protector, but his large dark eyes were as cold and hard as jet as he
looked back at me.
'What Toussac says is right,' said he. 'We imperil our own safety if he
goes with our secret.'
'The devil take our own safety!' cried Toussac. 'What has that to do
with the matter? We imperil the success of our plans--that is of more
importance.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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