“Just as I thought, sure!” exclaimed Longsword. “He used us as decoys to draw off the hounds when they were closing in on himself.”
“What a ready rascal,” cried Ethan, forced to admiration of the man’s wit. Then turning to the Lascar he continued:
“I am. He took it from me at Nantes as I was about to leave the country some time ago.”
“Did he send you to the Earl of Selkirk?”
“He did. He promised me a share if the earl would buy the papers for the crown.”
“Why did he not deal with the English government himself?”
“The war has made him afraid. He wanted a go-between. But when I returned I found that he was playing me false. He is to take ship at Brest and meet Danvers at Plymouth with the dispatch. Fochard is to get the ten thousand pounds, and Danvers is to get all the credit.”
“It would seem,” said Captain Jones, “that this man has but one object in view--and that is his own profit. He keeps faith with no one.”
“No,” cried the Lascar, clinching his fist and setting his strong white teeth, “he plays false with all--with you, with Danvers--with me. But I will be revenged! If you start in pursuit at once you will overtake him on the way to Brest or on the sea; and the dispatch will be your own once more.”
They talked for some little time, then the three went into another room and consulted.
“I cannot leave Paris at this time,” said the captain, “but as the man seems to be speaking the truth, now, you two might act upon his suggestion. A couple of fast horses would take you to Brest in little time, and you may be able to prevent the man’s escape.”
“But should he reach Brest before us--if he gets to sea--we cannot follow him.”
Captain Jones drew out a wallet and took from it a number of French bills of exchange.
“This,” said he, “will secure a vessel. If it is not sufficient say that I will make up the balance.”
Ethan hesitated, but at length took the bills, and shook the officer by the hand.
“This is generous of you; and you may depend upon me to do my best,” he said.
Within an hour himself and Longsword were in the saddle and riding along the road toward Brest.
“Like as not he took a carriage,” said the dragoon: “these well-fed gentlemen like Monsieur Fochard don’t care much about riding.”