The innkeeper gave a snort. ' Ah, now you've hit on it, Citizen. Look at those fine hands of his. He's an aristo, I'll be bound, and has never done an honest day's work in his life. An emigre, that's what he is, and come here to sell us to our enemies.'
After pursing his thin lips for a moment, the Chairman nodded again. 'Yes, that would explain everything: his impeccable French, the English landing him here and his dread of capture. Well, the law is clear on the subject of emigres. If caught reentering France such traitors are liable to the death penalty. If my Citizen colleagues agree, I am in favour of passing it.'
'1 am not an emigre! ' Roger broke in hotly. '1 am one of General Bonaparte's aides-de-camp and were we in Paris I'd have no difficulty in proving that. The Director Barras, Citizens Tallien, Freron and many other important men would all vouch for me. I met General Bonaparte as far back as the siege of Toulon. I was with him in Paris on 13th Vendemiaire. I-'
' Enough! ' snapped the Chairman, rapping on the desk with his gavel. ' We have given you a fair hearing and have already listened overlong to your lies.'
But Roger was determined to defend himself to the last ditch. Ignoring the interruption, he cried, 'You dare not have me executed! You dare not! My friends, the men I served with in Italy—Junot, Murat, Duroc, Lannes, Berthier and half a dozen other Generals—will exact vengeance on you if you do. Aye, and my great master Bonaparte himself will call you to reckoning. I demand-'
'Silence! Silence! Silence! ' the Chairman shouted, redoubling his banging on the table, and Roger, now white-faced and exhausted, realized the futility of continuing, so ceased his angry threats.
There followed a moment's hush, then the Chairman turned to the innkeeper and asked, ' Do you agree? '
His colleague nodded. 'Yes, he's a spy, right enough. I made up my mind on that as soon as the fool tried to gull us about where he got the Cherry Brandy. Have him taken outside and finished with.'
A sad little smile twitched at Roger's lips. Although there was not an atom of humour in his terrible situation, it had suddenly struck him how incongruous it was that after all the dangers from which he had escaped during his life he was about to be sent to his death because dear old Jim Button had popped a bottle of Cherry Brandy into his valise.
Turning to his other colleague, the Chairman asked, ' And you, Citizen? '
The little man tilted back his head so that the nostrils of the snub nose between the apple cheeks looked like two round holes in his chubby face. Then, in a quiet voice, he appeared to address the ceiling.
' Yes, Citizen Chairman, I agree. Whether or not the man be an emigre, he landed clandestinely on French soil from a British war vessel. He resisted arrest and seriously wounded two of our people. The account he has given of himself lacks the ring of truth, and on several matters there can be no reasonable doubt that he has lied to us. All the evidence points to his having come to France as a secret agent, and in times such as these we cannot afford to take chances. That being so it is our duty to send him to his death.'
For a moment he was silent, then he went on, ' But there is an aspect of this case which I would like my Citizen colleagues to consider. Let us suppose, just suppose, for one moment, that he has told us the truth in one important particular: namely, that he is an aide-de-camp of our national hero, the brilliant young General who has restored the glory of France by his conquest of Italy. Should we decree this man's execution—what then, Citizen colleagues? General Bonaparte is back in France. In a matter of a few months he has become, after the Directors, the most powerful man in the country. He has only to express a wish and others spring to gratify it. To incur his displeasure might bring about our ruin.'
Roger's eyes had remained riveted on the cherubic, upturned face. His throat seemed to contract and he held his breath in an agony of suspense as he waited to learn if this new development would prove the thread by which hung his life.
For a full minute, with a frown of uncertainty on his thin, bony face, the Chairman stared at his small, plump colleague, then he said, ' You are right, Citizen, in that it might go hard with us did we make an enemy of General Bonaparte; but I count the risk of our doing so exceedingly small. We are all convinced that the prisoner is unquestionably a liar, so it is improbable that he has ever even set eyes on the General.'
' Maybe, maybe,' replied the other. ' But why should we take any risk at all? '
' Ventre du Rape!' exclaimed the innkeeper. ' Surely you do not suggest that we should let the rogue go free to spy on us and sell our secrets to the accursed English; or that we should even send him to a prison from which he might in time escape and still do the Republic some serious injury? '
' Besides,' the Chairman argued, ' you say yourself that it is our duty to pass sentence of death upon him, and that being so-'
'1 did not say that,' retorted the little man, suddenly sitting up. '1 said that it was our duty to send him to his death. It does not follow that we should make ourselves responsible for his execution; and I, for one, will have no hand in it.'
The innkeeper banged his great fist on the table and cried angrily, ' What in hell's name do you mean by that? '
Simultaneously, the Chairman shook his head and said in a testy voice, ' You talk in riddles, Citizen colleague. Put a plain meaning on what you have in mind.'
' It is quite simple,' came the smooth reply.' In calling for water and washing his hands before sending the Nazarene to be executed, Pontius Pilate set us an admirable example. The prisoner declares himself to be a Colonel in the Army of France. Moreover, spies are normally court-martialled, as this one would have been had he been caught by a patrol of soldiers instead of by Coastguards. Therefore, in a double sense, this is a military matter. Let us send him to the senior officer in the district, with a message to the effect that after giving him a fair trial we came to the unanimous conclusion that he is a spy and probably an emigre, and so deserving of death; but that on consideration we decided that he should never have been brought before this Court, so we are handing him over for them to deal with as they see fit.'
The innkeeper gave a great bellow of laughter. The Chairman smiled, patted the little man on the shoulder and said, ' Most ingenious, my dear Citizen colleague. We will most certainly adopt your admirable suggestion.'
He then said to Tardieu, 'Citizen Lieutenant, the Court is returning the prisoner to you. I charge you to deliver him safely into the hands of General Desmarets at his headquarters outside the town.' Turning to the Prosecutor, he added, 'You, Citizen Corbiel, will accompany the Lieutenant, inform the General of the Court's reasons for sending the prisoner to him and give him a full account of all that has taken place here.'
Having so delivered himself, he gave the table one sharp rap with his gavel and declared the Court adjourned.
As Roger stepped from the dock a sigh of relief escaped him. He was not, after all, fated to be led out right away to be hanged, or to face a firing party. Yet he could not disguise from himself that his reprieve was only a temporary postponement of the issue. It was, too, an unnerving thought that he was to be brought before General Desmarets, of whom he had never heard, as a spy who had already been tried and convicted. Even so, he felt that his chances of living out the day v/ere considerably better now that he was to be handed over to the Military. They would surely give a more considerate hearing to a man who claimed to be General Bonaparte's aide-de-camp and, vast as the French Army was, these must be officers or soldiers in the camp to which he was being taken who could, if only they could be found, vouch for it that he was Colonel Breuc.