The Launching of Roger Brook

was compelled to hang about for the best part of an hour. But, at last, a bell jangled somewhere and one of the footmen, slipping on his coat, went to the front door.

When the man threw it open, to Roger's amazement, not only Maitre Leger, but also Monsieur Fouche, walked in.

'Good day to you. Monsieur Breuc,' said the lawyer, as they bowed to one another; then, turning to Fouche, he added; 'Would you be good enough to wait here while I have a word in private with my client.'

Leaving Fouche he came over to Roger, led him further away into an embrasure behind two of the tall marble pillars, and said in a low voice:

'I think matters will arrange themselves satisfactorily, but that now largely depends upon yourself. The Court sits to inquire into the death of Doctor Fenelon in half an hour and if Monsieur Fouche and yourself tell the same story I doubt not that they will be satisfied and discharge you both. However, this desirable result depends on you both giving the same account of the way in which Doctor Fenelon met his death, and Monsieur Fouche has already stated to the police that the doctor committed suicide.'

He paused for a moment then went on: 'You will appreciate, I am sure, that it is not for me, a lawyer, to suggest that you should attempt to deceive the Court, but what you choose to say before the magistrates is entirely your own affair. Mademoiselle de Rochambeau has given me implicit instructions to save you from trouble if I can and while such a step is highly unorthodox, it occurred to me that the best hope of doing so lay in bringing Monsieur Fouche and yourself together for a private conversation before the Court opens. I need scarcely add that your interests in this matter are now absolutely identical. Namely that the whole affair should be dismissed without further inquiry. Do you consent to talk with him?'

'If you advise it, and 'tis unavoidable,' Roger agreed with some reluctance.

'Very well, then; come this way.'

Recrossing the hall, and beckoning to Fouche to join them, Maitre Leger led the pair into a lofty room which, from the rows of shelves filled with ledgers that lined its walls, looked like an office. Having ushered them in he closed the door behind him and left them together.

Fouche walked over to the wide fireplace, turned, and with his back to the carved mantel stood there for a moment, his hands clasped behind his back, then, without looking at Roger, he said:

'It has always been against my principles to make enemies need­lessly. Your lawyer tells me that you are willing to compose this matter. If that is so, I am your man.'

'I am naturally anxious to avoid being held for a lengthy period while an exhaustive investigation takes place,' replied Roger frankly. 'Yet I find it difficult to regard the murderer of my old friend as anything but an enemy.'

'Your assumption that I murdered Doctor Fenelon has positively no foundation,' said Fouche, his pale face remaining quite inscrutable. 'I killed him in self-defence. You were a witness to it, and must have seen that had I not shot him he would have brained me with the hilt of the sword with which he had already struck me down.'

Roger was forced to admit to himself the justice of this and asked: 'Well, what is it that you propose?'

'I have already informed the officers of the law that some eight months ago I caused a warrant to be taken out for the Doctor's arrest. That can easily be verified by reference to the authorities in Nantes. I went on to state that finding the Doctor still to be at large I told him last night that, in the interests of justice, I intended to raise the matter with the authorities here. And that, in a fit of despair, he then pulled out a pocket pistol and before either you or I could stop him, shot himself through the head. As I had the good sense to leave the pistol beside the body such an account of the matter provides a loophole for us both; so all you will be called on to do is to verify my statement and, perhaps, testify that you knew the pistol to be the Doctor's property.'

'It seems that you thought better of accusing me of murder,' said Roger shrewdly. 'And I see no reason why I should tell lies to get you out of trouble.'

'Do you not. Monsieur Breuc?' Fouche’s small mouth broke into a thin smile. 'Yet on entering this house this morning I found you still to be living a lie. You have passed yourself off here as a native of Alsace. As for last night, I took such measures as I thought might get you stopped and enable me to obtain possession of your money-belt.

I failed in that, but to-day is another day. Do you wish me to inform your noble friends, the de Rochambeaux, that they have taken up the cause of an impostor?'

Roger had been under no compulsion to deceive Athenais at the time of their meeting and it flashed upon him how utterly shamed he would feel if he were now shown up as having lied to her.

By a swift sideways glance from his heavily lidded eyes Fouche saw Roger's discomfiture and pressed home his advantage. 'Besides, Mister Brook, I have not yet said my piece before the magistrates, and I have long made a practice of trimming my sails to every emergency. I can still tell them that, touched by your youth, on an impulse of compassion for you, when questioned last night, I sought to shield you from the results of your criminal act; but, to-day, my conscience smiting me, I feel constrained to tell the truth: That is, that, on informing the Doctor I intended to have him arrested you attempted to shoot me, but missed your aim and shot him instead, then panicked and endeavoured to escape with his money.'

With growing trepidation Roger realised that behind the pale high forehead of this red-haired Oratorian teacher there lay a subtle and cunning brain. Such a story would square quite well with what Fouche had told the police the previous night, yet leave him, Roger, to face a charge of attempted murder or manslaughter, at the very least. He knew that he dared not face it, and said slowly:

'So be it. I will do as you suggest.'

Fouche smiled down at his boots. 'You may not have inherited the boldness associated with English Admirals, but in this you show a wisdom which will prove more profitable to you than any rash display of courage. You can leave me to do the talking. All you need do is to say that I have given a full and true account of the affair and, if you are asked, state that for as long as you had known him the Doctor had always carried that little two-barrelled pistol. 'Tis time now that we went, for the Court will soon be sitting.'

On their leaving the room young Monsieur Fouche's pale smile was enough to tell Maitre Leger that they had reached agreement, and he hurried them both into his carriage.

At the Court House everything went according to plan. In a quarter of an hour the inquest was over. There was no jury, but after consulting for a few moments the magistrates declared their verdict: that Doctor Aristotle Fenelon had taken his own life while his mind was temporarily deranged owing to his having just been told that he was to be arrested on a charge involving the death penalty.

Afterwards, without a glance at Roger, the tall, thin Fouche left the Court House and walked away. As Roger watched him go Maitre Leger said: 'What have you in mind to do now, my young friend?'

'I'm monstrous eager to get back to the inn, in order to collect my money,' Roger replied. 'But I feel that first I should let Made­moiselle de Rochambeau know that I have come safe out of this business.'

'In that case I will drop you at the Hotel de Rochambeau,' volunteered the lawyer.

Roger thanked him and, as they went out to the carriage, said a little diffidently: 'And to you, Monsieur, I can never render thanks enough. My funds, unfortunately, are limited; but if your fee is within my means I will be most happy to pay it.'

'Nay, I'll not deprive you of your money,' replied the lawyer kindly. 'It needs but half an eye to see that you are an honest youth and that Fouche is a rogue who deserves to hang. Think no more of it, I beg. 'Twas a pleasure to have been of service to you; and, in any case, 'tis a part of my livelihood to handle all legal matters in which the de Rochambeau family are concerned. The Marquis is rich enough to pay me a louis or two for my morning's work and never miss it.'

Ten minutes later they were back at the Hotel de Rochambeau. Maitre Leger set Roger down there and drove away. Roger at once inquired if Mademoiselle Athenats would receive him.

After a short wait she came downstairs. With the sunshine streaming on her golden hair he thought his newly acquired divinity more beau­tiful than ever. Swiftly he told her of the morning's events and thanked her once more, both for the protection and the legal aid that she had afforded him.

He thought she took the matter very calmly and even seemed a little distrait, as she asked him what he intended to do now that he was no longer menaced by a charge of murder.

'I've hardly had time to think,' he replied quickly. 'But first I must return to the inn to see to the Doctor's burial, and to secure my money.'

'Of course,' she agreed. 'If the occasion arises you must let me know if I can be of any further service to you.' Then, having given him her hand to kiss, she turned away to issue orders about some band­boxes that two of her