Jean shook him roughly by the shoulder and asked him where theportrait came from, declaring that he, Jean, had not the smallestwish to keep it. The Colonel woke, but his speech was thick andhis memory confused. His mind was full of his underground passages.
He was commander of them all and could not find one. There wassomething in this fact that offended his sense of justice. TheLady Superior of the Nuns of Marie-Joseph had refused to betraythe secret of the famous Saint-Lazare tunnel.
"She has refused," declared the old Italian, "out of contumacy--andalso, perhaps, because there is no tunnel. And, since truth mustout, I'm bound to say, if I was not Commandant of the subterraneanpassages of the capital, I should really think there were none."His wits came back little by little.
"Young man, you have seen the soldier reposing from his labours.
What question have you come to ask the veteran champion of freedom?""About Bargemont? About that portrait?""I know, I know. I proceeded with a dozen men to his domicileto arrest him, but he had taken to flight, the coward! I carriedout a perquisition in his rooms. In the _salon_ I saw MadameBargemont's portrait and I said: 'That lady looks as sad as MonsieurJean Servien. They are both victims of the infamous Bargemont;I will bring them together and they shall console each other.'
Monsieur Servien, oblige me by tasting that cognac; it comesfrom the cellar of your odious rival."He poured the brandy into two big glasses and hiccuped with alaugh:
"The cognac of an enemy tastes well."Then he fell back on the sofa, muttering:
"The soldier reposing----"His face was crimson. Jean shrugged his shoulders and left theroom. He had hardly opened the door when the old man began howlingin his sleep: "Help! help! they're murdering me."In an instant the _fédérés_ on guard hurled themselves upon Jean;he could feel the cold muzzles of revolvers at his temples andhear rifles banging off at random in the ante-room.
The Colonel was raving in the frenzy of alcoholic delirium, writhingin horrible convulsions and yelling: "He has killed me! he hasmurdered me!""He has murdered the Colonel," the _fédérés_ took up the cry.
"He has poisoned him. Take him before the court martial.""Shoot him right away. He's an assassin; the Versaillais havesent him.""Off with him to the lock-up!"Servien's denials and struggles were in vain. Again and againhe protested:
"You can see for yourselves he's drunk and asleep!""Listen to him--he is insulting the sovereign people.""Pitch him in the river!""Swing him on a lamp-post.""Shoot him!"Bundled down the stairs, rifle-butts prodding him in the backto help him along, Jean was haled before an officer, who thereand then signed an order of arrest.