And the youth dressed himself with a facility his valet de chambre had failed to rob him of during the two months of fashionable life he had led in Paris.
"Now then," said Andrea, while dressing himself, "I'll wait till he leaves, and then I'll slip away."
And, saying this, Andrea, who had now put on his boots and cravat, stole gently to the window, and a second time lifted up the muslin curtain.
Not only was the first gendarme still there, but the young man now perceived a second yellow, blue, and white uniform at the foot of the staircase, the only one by which he could descend, while a third, on horseback, holding a musket in his fist, was posted as a sentinel at the great street door which alone afforded the means of egress.
The appearance of the third gendarme settled the matter, for a crowd of curious loungers was extended before him, effectually blocking the entrance to the hotel.
"They're after me!" was Andrea's first thought. "The devil!"
A pallor overspread the young man's forehead, and he looked around him with anxiety.
His room, like all those on the same floor, had but one outlet to the gallery in the sight of everybody.
"I am lost!" was his second thought; and, indeed, for a man in Andrea's situation, an arrest meant the assizes, trial, and death,--death without mercy or delay.
For a moment he convulsively pressed his head within his hands, and during that brief period he became nearly mad with terror; but soon a ray of hope glimmered in the multitude of thoughts which bewildered his mind, and a faint smile played upon his white lips and pallid cheeks.
He looked around and saw the objects of his search upon the chimney-piece; they were a pen, ink, and paper.
With forced composure he dipped the pen in the ink, and wrote the following lines upon a sheet of paper:--
"I have no money to pay my bill, but I am not a dishonest man; I leave behind me as a pledge this pin, worth ten times the amount.
I shall be excused for leaving at daybreak, for I was ashamed."
He then drew the pin from his cravat and placed it on the paper.
This done, instead of leaving the door fastened, he drew back the bolts and even placed the door ajar, as though he had left the room, forgetting to close it, and slipping into the chimney like a man accustomed to that kind of gymnastic exercise, having effaced the marks of his feet upon the floor, he commenced climbing the only opening which afforded him the means of escape.
At this precise time, the first gendarme Andrea had noticed walked up-stairs, preceded by the commissary of police, and supported by the second gendarme who guarded the staircase and was himself re-enforced by the one stationed at the door.
Andrea was indebted for this visit to the following circumstances.
At daybreak, the telegraphs were set at work in all directions, and almost immediately the authorities in every district had exerted their utmost endeavors to arrest the murderer of Caderousse.
Compiegne, that royal residence and fortified town, is well furnished with authorities, gendarmes, and commissaries of police; they therefore began operations as soon as the telegraphic despatch arrived, and the Bell and Bottle being the best-known hotel in the town, they had naturally directed their first inquiries there.
Now, besides the reports of the sentinels guarding the Hotel de Ville, which is next door to the Bell and Bottle, it had been stated by others that a number of travellers had arrived during the night.
The sentinel who was relieved at six o'clock in the morning, remembered perfectly that just as he was taking his post a few minutes past four a young man arrived on horseback, with a little boy before him. The young man, having dismissed the boy and horse, knocked at the door of the hotel, which was opened, and again closed after his entrance.
This late arrival had attracted much suspicion, and the young man being no other than Andrea, the commissary and gendarme, who was a brigadier, directed their steps towards his room.
They found the door ajar.
"Oh, ho," said the brigadier, who thoroughly understood the trick; "a bad sign to find the door open!
I would rather find it triply bolted."
And, indeed, the little note and pin upon the table confirmed, or rather corroborated, the sad truth.
Andrea had fled.
We say corroborated, because the brigadier was too experienced to be convinced by a single proof.
He glanced around, looked in the bed, shook the curtains, opened the closets, and finally stopped at the chimney.
Andrea had taken the precaution to leave no traces of his feet in the ashes, but still it was an outlet, and in this light was not to be passed over without serious investigation.
The brigadier sent for some sticks and straw, and having filled the chimney with them, set a light to it.
The fire crackled, and the smoke ascended like the dull vapor from a volcano; but still no prisoner fell down, as they expected.
The fact was, that Andrea, at war with society ever since his youth, was quite as deep as a gendarme, even though he were advanced to the rank of brigadier, and quite prepared for the fire, he had climbed out on the roof and was crouching down against the chimney-pots.
At one time he thought he was saved, for he heard the brigadier exclaim in a loud voice, to the two gendarmes,
"He is not here!"
But venturing to peep, he perceived that the latter, instead of retiring, as might have been reasonably expected upon this announcement, were watching with increased attention.
It was now his turn to look about him; the Hotel de Ville, a massive sixteenth century building, was on his right; any one could descend from the openings in the tower, and examine every corner of the roof below, and Andrea expected momentarily to see the head of a gendarme appear at one of these openings.
If once discovered, he knew he would be lost, for the roof afforded no chance of escape; he therefore resolved to descend, not through the same chimney by which he had come up, but by a similar one conducting to another room.
He looked around for a chimney from which no smoke issued, and having reached it, he disappeared through the orifice without being seen by any one.
At the same minute, one of the little windows of the Hotel de Ville was thrown open, and the head of a gendarme appeared.
For an instant it remained motionless as one of the stone decorations of the building, then after a long sigh of disappointment the head disappeared.
The brigadier, calm and dignified as the law he represented, passed through the crowd, without answering the thousand questions addressed to him, and re-entered the hotel.
"Well?" asked the two gendarmes.
"Well, my boys," said the brigadier, "the brigand must really have escaped early this morning; but we will send to the Villers-Coterets and Noyon roads, and search the forest, when we shall catch him, no doubt."
The honorable functionary had scarcely expressed himself thus, in that intonation which is peculiar to brigadiers of the gendarmerie, when a loud scream, accompanied by the violent ringing of a bell, resounded through the court of the hotel.
"Ah, what is that?" cried the brigadier.
"Some traveller seems impatient," said the host. "What number was it that rang?"
"Number 3."
"Run, waiter!"