The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, Baroness Orczy [ebook reader for pc .TXT] 📗

which gave on the inner chamber would be flung open⁠—a number called⁠—one patient would walk out, another walk in⁠—and in the ever-recurring incident the stranger for the nonce was forgotten.

His turn came⁠—his number being called⁠—it was the last on the list, and the antechamber was now quite empty save for him. He walked into the presence of the proconsul. Claude Lemoine, who was on guard in the room at the time, told me that just for the space of two seconds the two men looked at one another. Then the stranger threw back his head and said quietly:

“There’s a child dying of pleurisy, or worse, in an attic in the Rue des Pipots. There’s not a doctor left in Lyons to attend on him, and the child will die for want of medical skill. Will you come to him, citizen doctor?”

It seems that for a moment or two Laporte hesitated.

“You look to me uncommonly like an aristo, and therefore a traitor,” he said, “and I’ve half a mind⁠—”

“To call your guard and order my immediate arrest,” broke in milor with a whimsical smile, “but in that case a citizen of France will die for want of a doctor’s care. Let me take you to the child’s bedside, citizen doctor, you can always have me arrested afterwards.”

But Laporte still hesitated.

“How do I know that you are not one of those English spies?” he began.

“Take it that I am,” rejoined milor imperturbably, “and come and see the patient.”

Never had a situation been carried off with so bold a hand. Claude Lemoine declared that Laporte’s mouth literally opened for the call which would have summoned the sergeant of the guard into the room and ordered the summary arrest of this impudent stranger. During the veriest fraction of a second life and death hung in the balance for the gallant English milor. In the heart of Laporte every evil passion fought the one noble fibre within him. But the instinct of the skilful healer won the battle, and the next moment he had hastily collected what medicaments and appliances he might require, and the two men were soon speeding along the streets in the direction of the Rue des Pipots.

During the whole of that night, milor and Laporte sat together by the bedside of M. le Vicomte. Laporte only went out once in order to fetch what further medicaments he required. Mme. la Marquise took the opportunity of running out of her hiding-place in order to catch a glimpse of her child. I saw her take milor’s hand and press it against her heart in silent gratitude. On her knees she begged him to go away and leave her and the boy to their fate. Was it likely that he would go? But she was so insistent that at last he said:

“Madame, let me assure you that even if I were prepared to play the coward’s part which you would assign to me, it is not in my power to do so at this moment. Citizen Laporte came to this house under the escort of six picked men of his guard. He has left these men stationed on the landing outside this door.”

Madame la Marquise gave a cry of terror, and once more that pathetic look of horror came into her face. Milor took her hand and then pointed to the sick child.

“Madame,” he said, “M. le Vicomte is already slightly better. Thanks to medical skill and a child’s vigorous hold on life, he will live. The rest is in the hands of God.”

Already the heavy footsteps of Laporte were heard upon the creaking stairs. Mme. la Marquise was forced to return to her hiding-place.

Soon after dawn he went. M. le Vicomte was then visibly easier. Laporte had all along paid no heed to me, but I noticed that once or twice during his long vigil by the sickbed his dark eyes beneath their overhanging brows shot a quick suspicious look at the door behind which cowered Mme. la Marquise. I had absolutely no doubt in my mind then that he knew quite well who his patient was.

He gave certain directions to milor⁠—there were certain fresh medicaments to be got during the day. While he spoke there was a sinister glint in his eyes⁠—half cynical, wholly menacing⁠—as he looked up into the calm, impassive face of milor.

“It is essential for the welfare of the patient that these medicaments be got for him during the day,” he said dryly, “and the guard have orders to allow you to pass in and out. But you need have no fear,” he added significantly, “I will leave an escort outside the house to accompany you on your way.”

He gave a mocking, cruel laugh, the meaning of which was unmistakable. His well-drilled human bloodhounds would be on the track of the English spy, whenever the latter dared to venture out into the streets.

Mme. la Marquise and I were prisoners for the day. We spent it in watching alternately beside M. le Vicomte. But milor came and went as freely as if he had not been carrying his precious life in his hands every time that he ventured outside the house.

In the evening Laporte returned to see his patient, and again the following morning, and the next evening. M. le Vicomte was making rapid progress towards recovery.

The third day in the morning Laporte pronounced his patient to be out of danger, but said that he would nevertheless come again to see him at the usual hour in the evening. Directly he had gone, milor went out in order to bring in certain delicacies of which the invalid was now allowed to partake. I persuaded Madame to lie down and have a couple of hours’ good sleep in the inner attic, while I stayed to watch over the child.

To my horror, hardly had I taken up my stand at the foot of the bed when Laporte returned; he muttered something as he entered about having left some important appliance behind, but I was quite convinced