The Arrest "A pleasure to see you, as always, My Lord"
Vicomte Zilvain acknowledged the Maitre de with a nod, his eyes searching the main lounge of the Fleur for his quarry. "I'm afraid that we're fairly quiet this evening, Sir. Most of those members who are in good odour with His Grace le Duc de Mylcandonai are at the Palais Royal ball, I'm afraid." "That's all right, Marcel. I'm not much in the mood for company." He spotted them in a corner alcove and started towards them. The woman looked even more radiant than usual, a sparkling ruby necklace nestling above her ample bosom. Vicomte Zilvain reminded himself that a pretty face could mask an evil heart far more effectively than could a malformed one - her consort had been guilty of nothing more serious than a lax attitude towards military discipline before he married her. The man beside her rose to his feet as he saw the Commissioner approach. "Zac, my friend! Come and join us! I thought Alison and yourself would be at the Palais, rubbing shoulders with the sycophants?" "The Princess' affairs can become tedious after a time, as I'm sure you'll agree. You are to be complemented on your exquisite necklace, Madame." Blushing slightly, she looked up coyly at her husband. "It's a recent gift, My Lord. I don't know where he finds the money..." "Then I have you at a disadvantage, Madame. Its colouring is most appropriate, if I might say so. I regret that I'm here in an official, rather than social capacity this evening." Her consort paled, as the Commissioner of Public Safety drew himself to his full height and declaimed in voice loud enough for all those in the room to hear: "Marquis Brouilles, I am arresting you on the charges of Conspiring to Defraud the Royal Treasury, Conspiring with a Foreign Power to the detriment of His Majesty's Interests and Realm, and the brutal and cold-blooded Murder of Lt.Colonel le Chevalier Jean-Luc de Frost, a valued servant of the Commission of Public Safety..." Seeing that the Commissioner was alone, Brouilles decided to bolt for the nearest door. Vicomte Zilvain calmly drew something from beneath his cloak. It was a wheel-lock pistol with a rifled barrel, made by the same gunsmiths patronised by Prince Rupert of the Rhine. The Commissioner had never before had occasion to shoot it, but it was said that Prince Rupert frequently sent Church weathercocks spinning in order to demonstrate the accuracy of the gunsmiths' creations. Brouilles was half way across the room when the pistol ball caught him behind the left knee, sending him sprawing over one of the gaming tables and throwing gaming chips everywhere. Alerted by the shot, Captain de Lambert and half a dozen guards rushed into the room with their weapons drawn. "Take him the Bastille," ordered the Commissioner, "and don't concern yourselves too much with his comfort." He turned towards Sally, whose mouth made a wide 'O' in her translucently pale face. Could she _really_ have been unaware of her husband's innumerable treasons? "I'd advise you to seek refuge with friends or family for a few days, Madame, since your mansion house has been temporarily impounded. I regret that the same fate awaits your pretty necklace - for I have reason to believe that it was purchased, albeit unknowingly, by His Majesty rather than your husband. Please accept my apologies for putting such a dampener on your evening. Should I inform your coachman that you wish to depart...?" _________________________________________________________________ Join the world�s largest e-mail service with MSN Hotmail. http://www.hotmail.com
