Advice

<Remy>

Remy paced the room frantically, swearing each time he turned back upon his tracks and twice or thrice in between. He would tear at this hair if there were anything to tear on his bare pate and had not Reynard relieved him of his cap he might have rent that into bits. �That makes the second in as many weeks, Reynard!� Remy repeated for the nth time as he stopped in his tracks and whirled on the other man who calmly sat behind a desk cluttered with papers and miscellaneous brick-a-brack. Reynard took a swig from his flask as though the threat of death did not loom overhead.

�How can you be so calm? There will be an inquiry and there are not more drunk wretches on which to heap the blame! They�ll execute us for sure� you know that!� Remy slumped into a chair opposite Reynard and dropped his face into his hands. �We are dead men��

Leroux exhaled impatiently and passed his flask to Remy, forcing the man to drink. ��We�, citoyen?� Leroux asked. �The blame would fall directly on you. You were the officer on duty.� He paused at the look of horror on Remy�s face. �However, there is no need for dramatics. There is no need for you to lose your head� in either sense. It is true there are no drunkards on hand to use as scapegoats, but there are options.� Leroux wondered how Remy would react were he to discover that the drunkard was in fact the man believed to be rescued by the Scarlet Pimpernel and that it was he not the enigmatical Englishman who had engineered the escape� or that he had delayed raising the alarm with he discovered the rescue of du Tournai. �You will get nowhere worrying so much.�

<Remy>

Not worry so much! How could he do anything but worry? He stared at Reynard incredulously. �What options? Do you think you argue the facts? Intimidate the judges? They�ll think we�re inept or worse that we helped the man.�

"I suggest nothing of the sort, Remy," Leroux said coolly, eyes skimming over the papers on the desk. A strange act considering Remy was under the impression that Leroux was illiterate. "I would suggest that Paul Remy disappear from existence, vanish like a specter in the light." Remy stared at him dumbfounded. "I would imagine that you have some resources... say to acquire a passport under another name... procure yourself one and leave Paris immediately. Go somewhere where no one is likely to know you and start a new life... it is easy for men to disappear if they've a mind to. Do it before they call for you. It should be easy for you to leave quickly, you've no wife or family to bundle up... and a mistress is easily replaced."

<Remy>

�Do you realize what you�re saying?� Remy asked, incredulous. The very suggestion could earn Reynard the same fate that awaited him, and yet if he wished to assure his continued existence it seemed the only way. He had favors he could call in, obtain a passport� �But would it not appear suspicious if I were to disappear in the middle of a shift?� he asked, even as he committed himself to this course.

�Should anyone come in search of you I will tell them that you are personally delivering the lists of prisoners to be transferred,� Leroux replied. �In this day and age none can be too careful with all these spies about.� He watched as Remy nodded and mashed his cap over his bald pate, gathered some papers and headed for the door, a man given an opportunity that those he watched had not. �Quite an experience living in fear is it not?� Leroux heard himself saying, irresistibly urged to breaking character. �Remember that as you pass by those cells.�

<Remy>

Remy grabbed his cap and papers, and clapped Leroux on the shoulder in thanks. How odd it was that Leroux should help him so when the man had always appeared a stickler for the rules. Whatever the case Remy was grateful. It was not everyday a man is given back his life. He was at the door in three rapid steps when Leroux spoke again.

"Quite an experience living in fear is it not?" the voice said, and Remy knew it to be Leroux's only for the fact that Leroux was the only one in the room. He turned back to stare at his compatriot wondering at the remark. �Remember that as you pass by those cells."

Leroux had not move, had not shift an inch, and yet the eyes that stared out of his face were not the icy, emotionless blues that caused aristos and underlings to shiver. No, these eyes were almost black in their passionate intensity. They transformed Leroux's face so that it was barely recognizable. The experience terrified him. He nodded wordlessly as he fumbled for the handle and slid awkwardly out the door. Remy made an rapid exit and indeed when he passed the cells filled with condemned men, women, and children he did remember, as he would even after he pasted through the west gate. He remembered that he could have been one of those faces staring out at death and that he was granted a reprieve which they would never see.

As Remy left, Leroux sighed. There would be a replacement of a certainty. Likely not so gullible as Remy which mean he would have to be all the more careful. But then it wasn't like he rescued aristos on a regular basis. He would have to be all the more careful in the future... besides his reason there was not to rescue but to find albeit a long shot the man he had swore to kill.

Now that Remy was gone, Leroux poured over the papers on the desk - lists of names, confiscated passports and paper hoping that one would offer him a crumb on the trail of his man.

Saint-Just had given him no struggle, and yet something about him gave Mersot the distinct impression that the boy had an inkling of the fate that awaited him in France . How long ago it was that he had been in similar circumstances... only he had no idea of the fate that awaited him, had he known he would have fought with all his strength to get away. Besides, Chauvelin only wanted the boy watched, if he was innocence he would be freed.

It wasn't until they entered the prisons that Saint-Just began to fidget and ask questions, but by that time it was too late to leave. Mersot gave him non-committal answers and took him to see the officer in charge only to find the man's assistant waiting in the office. "Where is Citoyen Remy?"

Leroux heard the footsteps on the stairs and set the paper he was reading down and took out his pistol and cleaning kit to give the impression that that was how he�d been spending his time. When the door opened soon after he recognized both the gentlemen that entered, while their guard trooped in behind them. The younger of the two was one of Citoyen Chauvelin�s young prot�g�es looking particularly terrified, the other was also an associate of Chauvelin�s, Mersot... or so that was the name he was currently using.

�Delivering transfer paper,� Leroux said coldly. �I am the officer on duty until he returns. What is the state of your business?�

Mersot nudged Armand and the boy reluctantly extracted a letter from his pocket and handed it to Reynard who took it and fumbled it open, glanced at it paper, rotating it, then stared questioning at Mersot. Was he to believe the man couldn�t read? Mersot stomped around the desk and found the man to be holding the document upside down. Mersot took the letter and stood close to Reynard whispering the content. �It says that the boy is to be detained, that he is to be kept away from the other prison and kept under heavy guard. Six men at all times. No visitors� and his name is not to be submitted to record until such time as Chauvelin gives order. No one is to know that he is here.� Mersot scratched his stubbly chin and wondered.

Leroux had read the letter by the time Mersot told him its content. Read it upside down to keep up the illusion surrounding Reynard's persona. The order was a strange one - detain, but erase all record. He nodded. "Follow me," he said, grabbing the key ring off a nail on the wall. He led Mersot, Armand, and the half dozen soldiers that served as their honor guard through La Force. As they proceeded he issued ordered to the guards he passed, ordering an occasional guard to fall in line with the procession. He led them to the remotest, securest cell in the prison and ordered the guards that had followed to stand sentinel at the door. "Will this do?"

Mersot walked into the cell. Dirty and pestilent as any other. Isolated � that would be the worse part. But at least he would have the guards for company, far better than being thrown in a hole and forgotten. No human contact except for the silent individual who delivered daily meals. It could be worse. �It will do,� he said stepping out and moving aside to let Armand be escourted in. The boy went silently enough which weighed heavily on Mersot. This was nothing less than an absolute betrayal and nothing could be a graver offense.

He moved next to Reynard as the door shut. �A word in private, citoyen.�

Leroux nodded almost imperceptibly. �I will personally bring the next watch in three hours,� he told the men on duty. �Be sure to check every once in a while to make sure he hasn�t disappeared.� Leroux lead the way back through the prison with Mersot at his side. He said nothing as they walked, a mutual understanding between them. Once back in the office, Leroux dropped into the seat behind the desk, folded his arms and looked curiously at the other man.

Mersot took the seat opposite Leroux, folded his hand before him, and gave the other man a once over. �As a word of advice, citoyen, if you wish keep up the illusion that you can�t read you had best not do so in front of others who can. I followed the movement of your eyes. They stared too intently; they followed the line of text when you turned the paper. Only one who read would do that.� Mersot leaned back and watched the effect of his words.

Leroux kept his face expressionless, though the words could do not but have an effect on him. So Mersot was to play his cards, Leroux had cards of his own. It was dangerous this game and Mersot had a distinct advantage, however that was no reason to be cowed. �I presume you have a point for your speculation,� Leroux replied, weighing the situation. There was not point trying to deny the facts, what was more important was finding out precisely what the other man had in mind. �What do you want to get out of this, citoyen?�

�Rest easy, citizen, I am not looking for a bribe,� Mersot leaned back. �Merely the answer to a mystery. You remind me of a happy-go-lucky citizen who seems to get around to the various drinking establishment and of an undertaker I�ve seen by the Place de la Greve, a fisherman� shall I go on?� Leroux�s expression did not change, yet his face was noticeably paler. �Strange don�t you think? Have you brothers? No� brother would not account for it.�

He�d got him there he had indeed. �I see you�ve been watching me for some time, citoyen Fournier� no it�s Mersot now,� Leroux kept his face expressionless, despite the fact that it felt as though the blood had been drained from his body. �You�ve watched me and I�ve watched you. Until now we�ve done a grant job ignoring the activities of the other, so it makes me wonder why you wish to change this arrangement.�

�I think we can help each other,� Mersot replied. �That is if our goals are comparably. You have established yourself a network here in Paris I�ll wager, as have I. But for what purpose remains uncertain� there have been a few escape under your watch, attributed to English spies� one might think you were working with them.� Mersot tried reading the truth of this in Leroux�s expression. �Or, perhaps, you are searching for someone...� a flicker behind the pale eyes �� someone who did you an injustice.� Mersot�s eyes followed the evil looking scar that stemmed from the hairline by the temple forking upward through the eyebrow to the forehead in a crooked path and downward to the cheekbone. There was another that marred the side of Leroux�s upper lip partly obscured by the shadow of a beard; still another peeked from the high collar on the side of his throat. It looked as though an effort was made to conceal this marks under clothing, hat, and make-up, perhaps the 5 o�clock shadow was make-up too, but the scars seemed real enough. This was a man who had known suffering, as Mersot had known suffering. �Perhaps we are more alike than you know, perhaps our goals are similar.�

�Perhaps�� Leroux said coldly, felt himself tested and measured. �Perhaps you will tell me your goals that I might determine for myself our similarity.� An act of faith. �You claim you do not seek fortune� what then? Power� no, I think you have power enough already. Love� perhaps. What is the old saying? �Where there�s trouble, there is a woman involved.� Perhaps�� It was Leroux�s turn to judge Mersot, a much more difficult man to read, but those who have shared experiences can more easily read them in others. �But methinks it is the need for revenge that drives you, yes?� Mersot�s lips were a straight thin line.

Leroux relaxed a bit more, settling himself more comfortably in his chair. Revenge was something he could understand. �Then perhaps our goals are similar� seeing as we serve the same mistress,� Leroux finally said. �What goal do you have in mind?�

�I would think it obvious, citoyen,� Mersot replied. �I suggest we pool our resources. Use each others networks to further our goals. You have built a reputation here in the prisons and I�m sure in other places� as have I. We could both benefit if we combine our efforts.�

�An alliance?� Leroux wondered aloud. �And to what do you hold allegiance too, hmmm? France � England � Austria �? Considering the times we are in you can understand this hesitancy. You speak in conspiratorial tones, yet come performing the orders of Citoyen Chauvelin� So I ask you, to whom do you owe allegiance?�

�I owe allegiance to none but myself,� Mersot said in all seriousness. �This revolution means little to me, politics mean little to me� I am the agent of Providence , it is what guides me in my endeavors. And you? What guides you? Is this Revolution meaningful to you or merely a means to an end?�

Leroux shot a glance at the closed door, as if expecting the scenario to be a set up. �The Revolution operates under its own momentum, it doesn�t require me to further it,� Leroux said evasively. �I�ll wager though that there is someone in particular that you wish me to keep an eye out for� an aristo that may find his way here or perhaps someone who might frequent one of the seedier establishments of the city.� Leroux exhaled loudly through his nose. �Does your man have a name?�

Mersot leaned back, resting his fingertips together and looking off into space for a moment as though picturing that face. "Gaspard Cauderousse... but in this day and age a man may go about under an assumed name, as you so well known." Leroux shifted in his chair, too close a stroke. "The criminal sort... murdered his wife and a patron of his hostel some years ago, but he managed to escape since." Mersot met Leroux's eyes and found interest there. "Sound like the kind of man you can find?"

Leroux sighed and sank back in his seat, dropping one leg and then the other onto the desk before him. �Sounds like a great number of men I�ve known. I believe like will seek out like in this case, I�ll keep my eye open, nut I don�t have much to go on� I�ll need a description � something. Distinguishing marks?�

Cocking an eyebrow, Leroux took the sheaf of paper with two fingers then carefully unfolded it and smoothed it onto the table. �I see you were under the assumption that I would say �yes�.� There was amusement in his voice. On the paper was a sketch � rather rough around the edges but distinguishable. Leroux refolded the paper and slipped it into his own pocket. �That will do to start. If I find him you�ll have to be there to confirm his identity.�

Leroux nodded, the request seemed simple enough. Seemed so. But the one thing Leroux wagered on with any certainty was that things were never so simple as they appeared. �And the boy you brought in� is there anything I should know about him or is he even a concern?�

�The boy is bait, I�m certain. Chauvelin has plans for that one - that much I know. It would be hazard to make any plans where he is concerned,� Mersot mused. �If anything, treat him as well as you can. But you� I have yet to hear your demands.�

Leroux took the paper out of his pocket again and folded it to commit the portray to memory. �My man will be keeping a low profile. He�s more likely to appear where I�m more likely to find him at the moment� our paths have already intersected a time or two,� Leroux beat a devil�s tattoo upon the desk, looking off into some point in the distance as if contemplating something.

�Let us see if I can�t produce your man, then you�ll owe me a favor�� Leroux broke his meditation abruptly. ��when I�ve got your man.�