"Phew! That was indeed a tight corner to be in. How did you manage to get out of it?"
The Doctor sighed. "By sacrificing the handsome fee that I had received. As you may have gathered police-agents are almost universally corrupt. I bribed the agent sent to arrest me to connive at my escape. But I must confess that seeing Monsieur Fouché again has temporarily unnerved me."
"That I can well understand," Roger agreed. "Yet it does not seem to me that you have aught to fear from him. From what you tell me it appears that his only interest in such affairs is the sport he derives from tracing up a case. If that is so, in yours, he has already had all the satisfaction it could afford him."
"It may be that I have allowed myself to be scared without reason, but the warrant for my arrest must still be in existence. If Monsieur Fouché chose to be vindictive"
"The devil!" exclaimed Roger. "I had thought that as this all happened months ago, and we are many leagues from Nantes, you were not in any actual danger." D'you mean that he might inform again and cause the police of Rennes to arrest you?"
"If he did I would be hard put to it to escape a hanging."
"Then we must leave Rennes as speedily as possible," said Roger with decision.
"He may not have recognised me," hazarded the Doctor. "And, even if he did, I may be doing him a great injustice to suppose that, having no personal score against me, he would pursue me with such vindictiveness."
"Nevertheless I'm sure we'd be wise to quit the town before there is any chance of your running into him again. I have our money on me and if we set out at once we could reach some village to the south or west before nightfall."
"But how can we do business without our stock in trade?" the Doctor protested.
"We have ample funds and can buy more at the next town we come to; we are certain to reach one within a few days."
"You forget Monsieur de Montaigne. Never could I bring myself to abandon that faithful beast. Besides, there are my instruments. Many of them are not easy to come by and it would be weeks before I could replace them all. 'Twould prove a most serious handicap were we to leave them behind."
Roger thought for a moment, then he said: "I too should be loath to let poor old Monsieur de Montaigne fall into the knackers' hands; and since we must go back for him, how would it be if we wait till dusk? We could slip into the side door of the inn, collect our things, get him from the stable and be off again, with small chance of meeting this police-cheat on the stairs or being seen by him from one of the windows?"
On the Doctor agreeing that this proposal seemed to offer the best prospect of avoiding any risk of trouble, they proceeded about their inspection of the ancient monuments in the Breton capital. But for both of them it proved an uneasy afternoon, and they were glad when the falling shadows gave them notice that the time had come to go back to the inn.
When they reached it Roger felt that he had chosen this hour for their flitting well, as the twilight had deepened sufficiently to obscure the faces of passing pedestrians when they were at a little distance, yet the windows of most of the houses still remained unlighted, so the hallway and staircase of the inn would be in semi-darkness.
They went to the stable first, and swiftly saddled up Monsieur de Montaigne; then they entered the inn by its yard door and went cautiously along a gloomy passage. As they had treated themselves to a special dejeuner they had paid for it at the time, so they had no bill to settle. The Du Guesclin was an expensive place so they had taken one of the cheaper rooms beneath its eaves. It only remained for them to collect the two old portmanteaux containing the Doctor's implements from their attic and get down the staircase without running into Monsieur Fouché.
Roger reached the room first. As it had only a dormer window it was now almost dark in there and on his opening the door he could barely distinguish the outlines of the furniture. The Doctor followed him in and began to fumble with his tinder-box.
"Hurry!" exclaimed Roger, snatching up a candle and holding it out to him. " 'Tis a pity we must strike a light, but we'll see the better to pack our things and so the more quickly get away."
"We will need a light to see each other by; but why this hurry?" said a quiet voice from the bed, and as the wick of the candle flared they swung round to see the tall form of the man in grey reclining on the bed.
"Surely, Monsieur le Docteur, you were not thinking of leaving Rennes without allowing me the opportunity of paying my respects to you?" he went on mockingly. "That would have been churlish indeed."
"Why, no, Monsieur Fouché: I—I would not have dreamed of such a thing," stammered the Doctor, as Roger set down the candlestick on the chest of drawers.
"That is admirable; and, as you see, I have spared us both the trouble of arranging an interview by coming to your room. In fact, I have been waiting for you here most of the afternoon. But I am happy to be able to tell you that I found your bed quite passably comfortable. Tell me, Monsieur le Docteur, what have you been doing all this time. Are you still upon the road?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"So I gathered on finding that old mule of yours in the stable, and the panniers he bears stuffed with the noisome messes that you peddle to the peasantry. Whence have you come?"
"From Le Havre, Monsieur, by way of Rouen and Caen."
"A nice step that; and I trust profitable. After so long a tour your pockets should be positively bursting with shekels." After a moment the man in grey added quite casually: "Have you killed anybody recently?"
"Monsieur, you do me a great injustice," the Doctor burst out. "My medicines do no one any harm if taken as directed. That tragic accident in Nantes last winter came about through the poor girl taking too much of the drug I gave her."
" 'Twas the sort of accident that leads to old men like you meeting the executioner one fine morning before breakfast. You knew well that the Demoiselle Bracieux was five months gone with child, and that the odds were all against your being able to save her from the results of her indiscretion so late in her pregnancy."
"I have known similar cases where success was achieved, Monsieur; and the poor girl begged of me so hard to help her."
" 'Twas the ten louis d'or she offered you that softened that rogue's heart of yours."
"Nay, Monsieur, 'twas not only that. She swore to me that her parents would put her into a convent for life if they discovered her shame. I warned her that there was some risk, but both she and her lover decided that for her the lesser evil was to take it. 'Twas her foolish impatience in taking an overdose that killed her, and a terrible misfortune for all concerned."
"Your misfortune, my friend, was not the killing but in the person whom you killed. Had you made corpses of a dozen village wenches you'd have heard no more of it, but ‘twas the height of folly to run such a risk with the daughter of a Councillor of Parliament."
Again Fouché remained silent for a moment, then he went on: "But 'tis all over and as good as forgotten now, is it not, Monsieur le Docteur?"
"Why, yes, Monsieur FoucheV' sighed the Doctor with obvious relief. "Thanks to a fortunate explanation I was able to give the police, they refrained from executing the warrant that Councillor Bracieux took out against me."