For Love of a Bedouin Maid

The Revolutionists had their spies in England, and they were not long in discovering Perry's intimacy with the Monarchists. By judicious soundings, they found that he had no real love for these. He could, therefore, knowing so many of their secrets, render them important services. So overtures were made to him, which he accepted, and, at the time of St. Just's visit, he was a recognized agent of the French Republic, while all the time affecting Monarchist proclivities. He was well paid by the Republic, so that now he was receiving money from both sides. But he was careful not to give himself away, keeping the secrets of each party inviolate from the other. Thus he performed with satisfaction to himself the formidable feat of running with the hare and hunting with the hounds.

Such was the man with whom St. Just now found himself in counsel.

It appeared that Perry knew Sir Henry Emerson well; this was doubtless known in Paris and was why St. Just had been instructed to apply to him. Sir Henry had called at the shop only a day or two before and, when ordering certain articles of hosiery, had mentioned casually that he was expecting every day to be ordered to the Continent with dispatches.

Perry told him that Sir Henry was in the habit almost nightly of visiting a certain gambling hell near the Haymarket, at which the hosier had the entrée and occasionally tempted Fortune. He advised that his visitor should accompany him there that night for the double purpose of familiarizing himself with Sir Henry Emerson's appearance and ascertaining, if possible, whether the date of his departure for Holland was yet fixed.

This being settled, Perry took him to a costumier, where he fitted himself with fashionable attire of English cut, he, Perry, supplying him with such hosiery and under-linen as he required. Then, having engaged a room for him at the Golden Cross Hotel, at Charing Cross, he left him, with the promise that he would call for him at a late hour that night, when they would proceed together to the gaming house.

In due course, they made their way thither. At the moment of their arrival at the door, a close carriage, with no armorial bearings on the panels, and drawn by a well-matched pair of horses, pulled up before it. St. Just and his companion drew back to let the occupants precede them.

A well-built man, above the middle height and inclined to stoutness, alighted from the carriage. His features were handsome, but inclined to puffiness. Perry nudged his companion slightly and whispered, "The Prince Regent."

The prince was followed by another man, and the two disappeared within the house, the door having been already opened in answer to the summons of a footman.

Perry waited a few minutes, so as not to follow too closely on the Prince's heels, and then knocked at the same door. It was opened by a man in livery, who greeted Perry respectfully, and then pulled a bell, that tinkled in the distance, and they moved down the passage, at the end of which was a green baize door, that opened noiselessly at their approach, and then closed behind them. They found themselves in a hall that blazed with light. A gorgeously clad, powdered footman stepped forward and relieved them of their roquelaures—they retained their hats—then preceded them up a broad staircase, so softly carpeted that their footfalls could not be heard. At the head of it was another green baize door, before which stood a negro of Herculean proportions, gorgeously arrayed. The footman murmured something and the door swung open.

The scene presented to St. Just's view was as startling as it was novel to him. Proceeding, as he had, direct from the military school to the battle field, he had little personal knowledge of the vices and amusements of Society, and was proportionately astonished. In a large room, furnished luxuriously, and, withal, somewhat meretriciously, the walls lined with long mirrors and pictures suggesting that the persons there delineated were the denizens of countries whose climate was more than temperate—to judge from their costume, or the absence of it; ottomans and lounges, heavily gilt and silk upholstered, dotted about; and the whole brilliantly illuminated by the soft light of innumerable wax candles;—were about sixty persons of both sexes—the men predominating—in evening dress of the very latest fashion, some of the ladies being conspicuous more by the audacity than the elegance of their attire. Some were walking about the room talking and laughing, occasionally pausing at the different tables to watch the progress of the game. But most of them were either seated at the tables, or standing behind the sitters engaged at play. Faro, hazard and other convenient modes for winning and losing money rapidly were going on.

Perry cast his eye carefully round the room, and nodded to several persons whom he knew. "The man we want is not here yet," he whispered to St. Just. "I think we had better join in the play, if we can find a table where it is not too high. For a stranger to come here and refrain from doing so would look singular."

St. Just at once assented, and they strolled about the room in search of a table.

Presently a man called out, "Come and try your luck, Perry; you won't be ruined, we are only small fry here."

"Yes," replied the hosier, "my friend and I will join you;" and he introduced St. Just—as the Comte St. Clair, of course.

They had been seated at the table but a few minutes, when Sir Henry Emerson entered the room, and Perry pointed him out to St. Just, and, during the evening, took an opportunity of introducing them to one another. Sir Henry, who took the so-called Comte St. Clair to be an émigré, and was a strong Royalist, received him in a friendly manner and offered to present him to the Prince at a Levee to be held next day. He added that he would not have another opportunity for some time, for that, at the conclusion of the function, he would have to start for Holland with dispatches.

This was the very information St. Just desired. If the documents were to be in his hands before Sir Henry left England, he had little time to lose. He thanked the speaker for his courtesy, of which he said he would avail himself, and would present himself for the purpose at the house of the King's Messenger at the time appointed. Then, the hour being late, he shook hands with him, and he and Perry took their leave. A modus operandi had to be decided on, and there was little time to do it in.

However, before they turned in for the night, they had evolved a scheme they thought would work, if Fortune should prove kind. There was this about it, that, if that on which they counted for success were absent, they would be no worse off than they were before, and no one would know of their conspiracy. Since Sir Henry Emerson was to set out so soon as the Levee should be over, they hoped to see the coveted dispatch lying in some conspicuous position in his room—if it was not already in his dispatch box—lest, by any chance he should forget it.

And the next day, when St. Just called, according to appointment, clad in a levee uniform procured from a costumier, he found that they had not miscalculated; for there, on a sideboard, in Sir Henry's room—he occupied a suite of chambers in King Street, St. James—lay a packet addressed to "–, His Majesty's Minister Plenipotentiary at The Hague."

Perry had accompanied St. Just, making as his excuse a little present he had brought from his shop for the unsuspecting King's Messenger.

A look of intelligence passed between the two conspirators when they saw the packet on the sideboard, which stood close to the door.

Sir Henry Emerson greeted St. Just courteously and then looked inquiringly at Perry, at the same time saying, "Ah, Perry, my friend, what's brought you? Did you think the Count couldn't be trusted to find his way here alone in a hackney coach?"

"Not that, Sir Henry," replied the hosier, "But the air is sharp in Holland at this time of year, and I have just got in some woolen jackets—quite a new article—to wear under the coat; and I have ventured to ask your acceptance of one; you are one of my oldest customers, and your approval will be of service to me." He held a fiat brown paper parcel in his hand.

"Upon my word, Perry, you're a good fellow," said Sir Henry. "Egad, it was very thoughtful of you and I am much obliged to you. I've no doubt I shall find it very comforting, for, as you say, Holland is deuced cold in January. I am afraid I have scarcely time to try it on just now, for the Count and I must be off to the Levee; but when I come back."

"No need for that, Sir," answered Perry; "it is sure to fit. These things are knitted and, within certain limits, will fit any one. I will leave it on the sideboard." He walked up to it, stood his stick in a corner made by it, and put his parcel on the top of the dispatch for Holland, at the same time dexterously slipping the packet from underneath it and transferring it to his breast pocket, his back being turned to the other two.

This done, he faced about, wished the two gentlemen good day and took his leave.

"It is time for us to be going too, Count," said Sir Henry, so soon as Perry had taken his departure, "and I think our coach is at the door."

St. Just rose with alacrity. He was only too anxious to be gone, before his host should have discovered that the dispatch was missing.

"I am at your service, Sir Henry," he replied.

"Hulloa!" cried Sir Henry on their way out, "Perry has left his stick behind," and he pointed to a walking stick in the angle the wall made with the sideboard. "Well, it will be safe enough here; no doubt he will remember where he left it, when he misses it, and will call for it."

Then they stepped into the coach and were driven to St. James's Palace to pay their respects to "the first gentleman in Europe."

Three hours later they returned, St. Just accompanying the King's Messenger to his chambers. He came in merely to thank him for the attention he had received and to wish him "bon voyage," and was in the act of leaving, when Perry was announced.

"I stupidly forgot my stick, Sir Henry," he began at once, "when I was here three hours ago. Ah, there it is;" espying it in the corner. It was a handsome stick with a heavy embossed gold knob; such a stick as one would not like to lose; so that he might be well excused for calling for it. He walked quickly to it, placing one hand in his breast pocket at the same time. Then, as though a sudden thought had struck him, he said, "Oh, if you have now the time, Sir Henry, you might try on the jacket." At the same time he took up the brown paper parcel from the sideboard and brought it towards Sir Henry. On the spot that it had covered lay the dispatch once more.

"By all means," replied Sir Henry, "if it will not take long; for I am due to leave in half an hour."

Perry quickly undid the parcel, the jacket was brought out, admired, tried on and pronounced an excellent fit, all in the course of a couple of minutes. Then St. Just and Perry took their leave, the latter, this time not forgetting to take his walking stick.

Not a word passed between them on the subject of their visit to Sir Henry Emerson, until they were closeted in Perry's parlor. Then St. Just, who had been itching all the way to learn what Perry had done, burst out, "I suppose you managed to take a copy of the dispatch, since I saw what looked like the original lying on the sideboard, when you took up the parcel."

"I did," was the reply, "but it took me all my time; there was so much of it."

He went to a drawer, unlocked it, took out some papers and handed them to St. Just. "This is the copy."

St. Just's eyes sparkled with satisfaction.

"Bravo, my friend," he said, "you have done well. I don't know what I should have done without you. This is much better than the original, for the English Government will not know what has occurred; whereas, if the original had been missed, it would have aroused suspicion, and a fresh dispatch of different import might have been substituted for it. Is there any chance of their discovering that the envelope has been tampered with? But perhaps you used a fresh one. But how about the Foreign Office seal?"

Perry laughed. "Those are some of my little secrets," he replied; "but it was the same envelope I replaced, and you may rest assured, my friend, that it will not be guessed that it has been tampered with. It was fortunate that everything favored us. I expected much more manoeuvring would have been required to get the packet."

All that remained now, was to remunerate Perry for his services. St. Just gave him notes for five thousand francs, with which the hosier seemed well satisfied.

Later in the evening, they visited several places of amusement, and, the next morning, St. Just took leave of Perry, and started on his return for France. Three days later he presented himself before Mons. de Talleyrand.