deal of good it will do you, too. This house has been decidedly gloomy of late.'
In spite of this warning, Marianne started in amazement when she saw Adelaide sitting calmly in a chair in the music room. She had to look twice to be sure that it was really her. A fantastic blonde wig peeped from beneath a hat of the very latest mode and her face was almost unrecognizable under a thick coat of paint. Only the blue eyes, bubbling over with life and happiness, and the commanding nose, were indisputably her own.
Adelaide no sooner set eyes on her than she sprang up, oblivious of her cousin's stunned expression, and ran to embrace her warmly, transferring a good deal of paint to Marianne's cheeks in the process. Marianne returned her kisses automatically, exclaiming as she did so: 'But Adelaide, where have you been? Surely you knew how dreadfully anxious we would be?'
'So I should hope!' Mademoiselle d'Asselnat declared happily. 'You shall have all the explanations you wish, but first – ' she turned and held out her hand to her companion ' – first, you must thank my friend Antoine Mandelard, otherwise known as Bobeche. It was he who rescued me from the hole where I was being kept prisoner, who hid me and defended me —'
'And encouraged you not to return home?' Jolival put in teasingly. 'Have you found your vocation on the boulevard, dear lady?'
'You speak more truly than you know, Jolival.'
All this time, Marianne had been gazing curiously at the tall, fair-haired young man who was bowing very correctly to her. She liked his frank, open face, laughing eyes and the suggestion of mischief in his smile. He was dressed in plain, dark clothes that were not without elegance. She extended her hand.
'I owe you more than I can put into words, monsieur.'
'No thanks are needed for helping a lady in distress,' he answered gallantly. 'I could do no less.'
'Such charm!' Adelaide murmured with a sigh. 'And now, my dear, if you are glad to have your old cousin back again, suppose you offer us a bite to eat. I for one am half dead with hunger.'
'I should have guessed it,' Marianne said, laughing. 'All the servants are in bed but if you will set the table, Adelaide, I will go down to the kitchen and see what may be found.'
It appeared that the cook was a woman of some forethought and Marianne soon assembled a palatable cold supper. In an amazingly short time the four of them were seated round a table gleaming with silver and crystal.
In the intervals between disposing of a prodigious quantity of cold chicken and salad and shavings of smoked beef washed down with champagne, Mademoiselle d'Asselnat recounted her adventures. She described how a servant wearing Madame Hamelin's livery had arrived with a request for her to join her cousin at the Creole's house, and how she had no sooner got into the chaise that waited at the door than she was bound and gagged and blindfolded with a scarf, then transported across Paris to some unknown destination. When she recovered the use of her senses, she was in a small chamber divided by a ramshackle wooden partition from what seemed to be a large cellar. The only light came from a shaft set too high in the wall to be reached even by standing on the heap of coal which, with a few armfuls of straw, formed the chief furnishing of her prison.
'Through the gaps in the boards,' Adelaide continued, helping herself liberally to her favourite Brie, 'I was able to obtain a glimpse of the rest of the cellar. It was piled with barrels and jars of all descriptions, bottles, full and empty, and everything else you would expect to find in a wine cellar. There was also a strong smell of onions, from the strings which were hanging from the ceiling, and from the noise of footsteps moving about my head and the clamour of intoxicated voices, I concluded that the cellar must belong to some kind of tavern.'
Arcadius grinned. 'I hope they didn't let you die of thirst amid such plenty?'
'Water!' Adelaide's voice throbbed with indignation. That was all they gave me, and some bread that was very nearly uneatable! Goodness, this Brie is delicious, I shall have some more.'
'But you must have seen someone in this dungeon?' Marianne said.
'Oh yes indeed! I saw a frightful old woman decked out like a queen whom they called Fanchon. She gave me to understand that my fate depended on you and on a certain sum of money which you must pay. The interview was far from friendly. I was not going to have that creature teaching me lessons about patriotism. Daring to vilify the Emperor and crack up that windbag who calls himself Louis XVIII! I promise you, she will not soon forget the way I boxed her ears for her. I would have killed her if they hadn't got her away!'
Jolival laughed. 'I dare say that did nothing to encourage them to improve your diet, my poor Adelaide, but I congratulate you with all my heart. Let me kiss this dainty but determined hand.'
'So much for your prison,' Marianne said. 'But how did you escape?'
'As to that, you had better ask my friend Bobeche. He will tell you the rest.'
'Oh, it was nothing really,' the young man said with a deprecating smile. The Epi-Scie is next door to us and I go there now and then for a drink with my friend Galimafre. They have a nice little wine from Suresnes which is not bad at all. I should add that we go to keep our eyes and ears open too, because we could not help but notice that the place had some remarkably strange customers. We soon began to find it very interesting. Myself, I take care not to be seen there too often but Galimafre spends hours at a time just sitting. No one takes any notice of him because he looks such a simpleton, but underneath he is by no means a fool. For all his drooping eyelids and sleepy air Galimafre is very wide awake, and, like myself, wholly at the Emperor's service.'
As he uttered the Emperor's name, Bobeche rose to his feet and raised his glass, a gesture which earned him a warm smile from Marianne. She liked this mountebank; without his make-up and his stage costume he had a kind of natural courtesy which appealed to her, besides which she was far from indifferent to his discreetly admiring gaze. It pleased her to be admired by a man who so straightforwardly declared his devotion to Napoleon. It occurred to her that Adelaide was listening to the young man with an expression of such ardent enthusiasm that she had actually forgotten to eat. Could it be that she felt something more than gratitude towards him? But Bobeche was speaking again.
The other night, Galimafre noticed them taking a loaf of bread down to the cellar where it had no business to be, unless it was intended for someone down there. Late that same night we did a little exploring in the lane, more of a tunnel really, which runs between our Pygmy Theatre and the tavern. We already knew that there was a fanlight hidden behind a heap of rubbish which looked down into the cellar of the Epi-Scie and we were there in time to witness an angry scene between Mademoiselle and Fanchon Fleur-de-Lis which told us a good deal, then —'
'Then the following night,' Adelaide finished triumphantly, 'they came back with tools and a knotted rope to open the window and help me out of the cellar. I would never have believed I could do it.'
'But why didn't you come straight here?' Marianne asked.
'Bobeche thought it wiser not. Besides, I could never have crossed Paris all covered with coal as I was. And – well, I had begun to find the Epi-Scie and its environs very interesting. I may as well tell you, Marianne, that I am going back there with Bobeche. We have some business to attend to.'
Marianne frowned, and then shrugged lightly. 'This is absurd. What business can you have there? I am sure these gentlemen do not want you.'
It was Bobeche who answered with a smile for the elderly spinster.
'That is where you are wrong, mademoiselle. Your cousin has kindly agreed to keep the gate for us.'
'Keep the gate?' Marianne said in astonishment.
'Most certainly,' Mademoiselle Adelaide's voice held the hint of a challenge. 'And I don't need you to tell me that such an occupation is quite unsuited to a woman of my condition. I have recently learned otherwise.'
Marianne blushed. It ill became her to reproach her cousin when she herself had taken to the boards. As theatres went, the Pygmy was no more to be despised than the elegant Feydeau. But the knowledge that Adelaide wanted to go away again filled her with unexpected sadness. Marianne met Arcadius's eyes across the table and he smiled and winked, then, reaching for the bottle, he refilled Adelaide's glass with more champagne.
'If that is your vocation, you would be wrong to fight against it. But do you really intend to keep the gate only – or will you venture to tread the boards?'
'Not yet, at all events,' she told him with a laugh. 'And, as I said, I shall be in no danger, whereas by remaining here I may run the risk of being kidnapped again and even putting you all in peril. That I could not endure! Besides, I am enjoying myself. I want to see if the Ambassador Bathurst's papers really will turn up at the Epi-Scie.'
'Papers? What papers are you talking about?' Marianne burst out at last. 'All day I have heard of nothing but papers. I don't understand it.'
