The Man in Grey | Page 6

resound from tree to tree;
all that could be heard was the occasional call of a night-bird, or the
furtive movement of tiny creatures of the wild.
Silence hung over the forest for close upon an hour. Then from behind
a noble fir a dark figure detached itself and more stealthily, more
furtively than any tiny beast it stole along the track which leads to the
main road. The figure, wrapped in a dark mantle, glided determinedly
along despite the difficulties of the narrow track, complicated now by
absolute darkness. Hours went by ere it reached the main road, on the
very spot where some few hours ago the mail-coach had been held up
and robbed by a pack of impudent thieves. Here the figure halted for
awhile, and just then the heavy rain clouds, which had hung over the
sky the whole evening, slowly parted and revealed the pale waning
moon. A soft light gradually suffused the sky and vanquished the
impenetrable darkness.
Not a living soul was in sight save that solitary figure by the roadside --
a man, to all appearances, wearing a broad-brimmed hat casting a deep
shadow over his face; the waning moon threw a cold light upon the
grey mantle which he wore. On ahead the exquisite tower of the church
of Notre Dame appeared vague and fairylike against the deep sapphire
of the horizon far away. Then the solitary figure started to walk briskly
in the direction of the city.

III
M. le Procureur Impérial, sitting in his comfortable armchair in the
well-furnished apartment which he occupied in the Rue St. Blaise at
Alençon, was surveying his visitor with a quizzical and questioning

gaze.
On the desk before him lay the letter which that same visitor had
presented to him the previous evening -- a letter penned by no less a
hand than that of M. le Duc d'Otrante himself, Minister of Police, and
recommending the bearer of this august autograph to the good will of
M. de Saint-Tropèze, Procureur Impérial at the tribunal of Alençon.
Nay, more! M. le Ministre in that same autograph letter gave orders, in
no grudging terms, that the bearer was to be trusted implicitly, and that
every facility was to be given him in the execution of his duty: said
duty consisting in the tracking down and helping to bring to justice of
as many as possible of those saucy Chouans who, not content with
terrorising the countryside, were up in arms against the government of
His Imperial Majesty.
A direct encroachment this on the rights and duties of M. le Procureur
Impérial; no wonder he surveyed the quiet, insignificant-looking
individual before him, with a not altogether benevolent air.
M. le préfet sitting on the opposite side of the high mantelpiece was
discreetly silent until his chief chose to speak.
After a brief while the Procureur Impérial addressed his visitor.
"Monsieur le Duc d'Otrante," he said in that dry, supercilious tone
which he was wont to affect when addressing his subordinates, "speaks
very highly of you, Monsieur -- Monsieur -- By the way, the Minister, I
perceive, does not mention your name. What is your name, Monsieur?"
"Fernand, Monsieur le Procureur," replied the man.
"Fernand? Fernand what?"
"Nothing, Monsieur le Procureur. Only Fernand."
The little Man in Grey spoke very quietly in a dull, colourless tone
which harmonised with the neutral tone of his whole appearance. For a
moment it seemed as if a peremptory or sarcastic retort hovered on M.

le Procureurs lips. The man's quietude appeared like an impertinence.
M. de Saint-Tropèze belonged to the old Noblesse. He had emigrated at
the time of the Revolution and spent a certain number of years in
England, during which time a faithful and obscure steward
administered his property and saved it from confiscation.
The blandishments of the newly-crowned Emperor had lured M. de
Saint-Tropèze back to France. Common sense and ambition had
seemingly got the better of his antiquated ideals, whilst Napoleon was
only too ready to surround himself with as many scions of the ancient
nobility as were willing to swear allegiance to him. He welcomed Henri
de Saint-Tropèze and showered dignities upon him with a lavish hand;
but the latter never forgot that the Government he now served was an
upstart one, and he never departed from that air of condescension and
high breeding which kept him aloof from his more plebeian
subordinates and which gave him an authority and an influence in the
province which they themselves could never hope to attain.
M. le préfet had coughed discreetly. The warning was well-timed. He
knew every word of the Minister's letter by heart, and one phrase in it
might, he feared, have escaped M. le Procureur's notice. It ordered that
the bearer of the Ministerial credentials