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His next objective； then； was Armand's former lodging； and from
six o'clock until close upon eight Sir Percy haunted the slopes of
Montmartre； and more especially the neighbourhood of the Rue de la
Croix Blanche； where Armand had lodged these former days。 At the
house itself he could not inquire as yet； obviously it would not
have been safe； tomorrow； perhaps； when he knew more； but not
tonight。 His keen eyes had already spied at least two figures
clothed in the rags of out…of…work labourers like himself； who had
hung with suspicious persistence in this same neighbourhood； and
who during the two hours that he had been in observation had never
strayed out of sight of the house in the Rue de la Croix Blanche。
That these were two spies on the watch was； of course； obvious；
but whether they were on the watch for St。 Just or for some other
unfortunate wretch it was at this stage impossible to conjecture。
Then； as from the Tour des Dames close by the clock solemnly
struck the hour of eight； and Blakeney prepared to wend his way
back to another part of the city； he suddenly saw Armand walking
slowly up the street。
The young man did not look either to right or left； he held his
head forward on his chest； and his hands were hidden underneath
his cloak。 When he passed immediately under one of the street
lamps Blakeney caught sight of his face； it was pale and drawn。
Then he turned his head； and for the space of two seconds his eyes
across the narrow street encountered those of his chief。 He had
the presence of mind not to make a sign or to utter a sound； he
was obviously being followed； but in that brief moment Sir Percy
had seen in the young man's eyes a look that reminded him of a
hunted creature。
〃What have those brutes been up to with him； I wonder？〃 he
muttered between clenched teeth。
Armand soon disappeared under the doorway of the same house where
he had been lodging all along。 Even as he did so Blakeney saw the
two spies gather together like a pair of slimy lizards； and
whisper excitedly one to another。 A third man； who obviously had
been dogging Armand's footsteps； came up and joined them after a
while。
Blakeney could have sworn loudly and lustily； had it been possible
to do so without attracting attention。 The whole of Armand's
history in the past twenty…four hours was perfectly clear to him。
The young man had been made free that he might prove a decoy for
more important game。
His every step was being watched； and he still thought Jeanne
Lange in immediate danger of death。 The look of despair in his
face proclaimed these two facts； and Blakeney's heart ached for
the mental torture which his friend was enduring。 He longed to
let Armand know that the woman he loved was in comparative safety。
Jeanne Lange first； and then Armand himself； and the odds would be
very heavy against the Scarlet Pimpernel！ But that Marguerite
should not have to mourn an only brother； of that Sir Percy made
oath。
He now turned his steps towards his own former lodgings by St。
Germain l'Auxerrois。 It was just possible that Armand had
succeeded in leaving a message there for him。 It was； of course；
equally possible that when he did so Heron's men had watched his
movements； and that spies would be stationed there； too； on the
watch。
But that risk must； of course； be run。 Blakeney's former lodging
was the one place that Armand would know of to which he could send
a message to his chief； if he wanted to do so。 Of course； the
unfortunate young man could not have known until just now that
Percy would come back to Paris； but he might guess it； or wish it；
or only vaguely hope for it； he might want to send a message； he
might long to communicate with his brother…in…law； and； perhaps；
feel sure that the latter would not leave him in the lurch。
With that thought in his mind； Sir Percy was not likely to give up
the attempt to ascertain for himself whether Armand had tried to
communicate with him or not。 As for spieswell； he had dodged
some of them often enough in his timethe risks that he ran
to…night were no worse than the ones to which he had so
successfully run counter in the Temple yesterday。
Still keeping up the slouchy gait peculiar to the out…at…elbows
working man of the day； hugging the houses as he walked along the
streets； Blakeney made slow progress across the city。 But at last
he reached the facade of St。 Germain l'Auxerrois； and turning
sharply to his right he soon came in sight of the house which he
had only quitted twenty…four hours ago。
We all know that houseall of us who are familiar with the Paris
of those terrible days。 It stands quite detacheda vast
quadrangle； facing the Quai de l'Ecole and the river； backing on
the Rue St。 Germain l'Auxerrois； and shouldering the Carrefour des
Trois Manes。 The porte…cochere； so…called； is but a narrow
doorway； and is actually situated in the Rue St。 Germain l'Auxerrois。
Blakeney made his way cautiously right round the house； he peered
up and down the quay； and his keen eyes tried to pierce the dense
gloom that hung at the corners of the Pont Neuf immediately
Opposite。 Soon he assured himself that for the present； at any
rate； the house was not being watched。
Armand presumably had not yet left a message for him here； but he
might do so at any time now that he knew that his chief was in
Paris and on the look…out for him。
Blakeney made up his mind to keep this house in sight。 This art of
watching he had acquired to a masterly extent； and could have
taught Heron's watch…dogs a remarkable lesson in it。 At night； of
course； it was a comparatively easy task。 There were a good many
unlighted doorways along the quay； whilst a street lamp was fixed
on a bracket in the wall of the very house which he kept in
observation。
Finding temporary shelter under various doorways； or against the
dank walls of the houses； Blakeney set himself resolutely to a few
hours' weary waiting。 A thin； drizzly rain fell with unpleasant
persistence； like a damp mist； and the thin blouse which he wore
soon became wet through and clung hard and chilly to his
shoulders。
It was close on midnight when at last he thought it best to give
up his watch and to go back to his lodgings for a few hours'
sleep； but at seven o'clock the next morning he was back again at
his post。
The porte…cochere of his former lodging…house was not yet open； he
took up his stand close beside it。 His woollen cap pulled well
over his forehead； the grime cleverly plastered on his hair and
face； his lower jaw thrust forward； his eyes looking lifeless and
bleary； all gave him an expression of sly villainy； whilst the
short clay pipe struck at a sharp angle in his mouth； his hands
thrust into the pockets of his ragged breeches； and his bare feet
in the mud of the road； gave the final touch to his representation
of an out…of…work； ill…conditioned； and supremely discontented
loafer。
He had not very long to wait。 Soon the porte…cochere of the house
was opened； and the concierge came out with his broom； making a
show of cleaning the pavement in front of the door。 Five minutes
later a lad； whose clothes consis