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diff --git a/43241.txt b/43241.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c3b0e1f..0000000 --- a/43241.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9248 +0,0 @@ - THE ADVENTURES OF FRANCOIS - - - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - - -Title: The Adventures of Francois - Foundling, Thief, Juggler, and Fencing-Master during the French - Revolution -Author: S. Weir Mitchell -Release Date: July 17, 2013 [EBook #43241] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FRANCOIS *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: "THE NETS WERE HUNG OVER FRANCOIS'S SHOULDERS." (See page -18.)] - - - - - The Adventures of - Francois - - Foundling, Thief, Juggler, and Fencing-Master - during the French Revolution - - - By - - S. Weir Mitchell, M.D. - - LL.D. Harvard and Edinburgh - - - - New York - The Century Co. - 1898 - - - - - Copyright, 1897, 1898, by - THE CENTURY Co. - - - - THE DE VINNE PRESS. - - - - - TO - PHILIP SCHUYLER - - IN RECOGNITION OF - A CONSTANT FRIENDSHIP - - - - - *CONTENTS* - - - *I* - -Of how Francois the foundling was cared for by the good fathers of the -Benedictine Asylum for Orphans, and of what manner of lad he was - - *II* - -In which Francois becomes a choir-boy, and serves two masters, to the -impairment of his moral sense - - *III* - -Of the misfortunes caused by loss of a voice, and of how a cat and a -damsel got Francois into trouble--whereupon, preferring the world to a -monastery, he ran away from the choristers of Notre Dame - - *IV* - -Of how the world used Francois, and of the reward of virtue. He makes -his first friend - - *V* - -Of the immorality which may come of an empty stomach, and of how -Francois became acquainted with a human crab - - *VI* - -Of how Francois regained a lost friend, and of his adventure with the -poet Horace and another gentleman - - *VII* - -Wherein is told how Francois saved a man's neck and learned to juggle - - *VIII* - -In which Francois discovers the mercantile value of laughter, and the -Crab takes toll of the jugglers--with the sad history of Despard, the -partner - - *IX* - -In which Francois tells the fortune of the Marquis de Ste. Luce and of -Robespierre, and has his own fortune told, and of how Despard saw a man -of whom he was afraid - - *X* - -How Pierre became a Jacobin and how a nation became insane - - *XI* - -The juggling firm of Despard, Francois & Co. is broken up--Despard goes -into politics, and Francois becomes a fencing-master - - *XII* - -In which Toto is seen to change his politics twice a day--the mornings -and the afternoons quarrel--In which Jean Pierre Andre Amar, "_le -farouche,_" appears - - *XIII* - -Citizen Amar, meeting the marquis, is unlucky and vindictive - - *XIV* - -Francois escapes from Paris and goes in search of a father. He meets a -man who has a wart on his nose, and who because of this is unlucky - - *XV* - -How Francois finds Despard and has a lesson in politics, and of what -came of it - - *XVI* - -How Francois warns the Marquis de Ste. Luce, and of the battle on the -staircase between the old day and the new - - *XVII* - -Of how Francois, escaping, lives in the wood; of how he sees the -daughter of the marquis dying, and knows not then, or ever after, what -it was that hurt him; of how he becomes homesick for Paris - - *XVIII* - -Wherein is told how Francois reenters Paris, and lodges with the Crab; -and of how Toto is near to death by the guillotine. Francois meets -Despard and the marquis, who warns him and is warned - - *XIX* - -Of the sorrowful life of loneliness, of Francois's arrest, and of those -he met in prison - - *XX* - -Of how Francois gave Amar advice, and of how the marquis bought his own -head - - *XXI* - -How Francois, having made a bargain with Citizen Amar, cannot keep it -with the man of the wart--How Despard dies in the place of the -marquis--Of Francois's escape from prison - - *XXII* - -Wherein is told how Francois baits a crab-trap with the man of the wart - - *XXIII* - -Of how Francois found lodgings where he paid no rent--Of the death of -Toto--Of how his master, having no friends on the earth, finds them -underground - - *XXIV* - -Of how Francois got into good society underground--Of what he saw, and -of the value of a cat's eyes--From darkness to light--Of how Francois -made friends for life - - *EPILOGUE* - -Wherein is some further account of Francois and of those who helped him - - - - - *LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS* - - -The Nets were Hung over Francois's Shoulders . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ - -Francois and Toto in the Luxembourg - -Pierre taught Francois to Juggle with Balls - -'T is a Gargoyle Come Down from the Roof of St. Jacques - -He Paid in Advance the Customary Denier a Dieu - -And so a Dog is Sent to Fetch the Safeguard the People Provide - -He Staggered to Left, to Right, and at last Tumbled in a Heap - -He Held his Way along the Highroad - -The Wanderer Tapped on the Pane - -He Saw a White Face on the Pillow - -Quatre Pattes - -Death to Royal Rats! - -Amar Considered this Novel Specimen of Humanity - -He Pulled the Bell at No. 33 Bis - -"The Little Trap did Work," cried Francois, behind his Screen - - - - - *THE ADVENTURES OF FRANCOIS* - - - FOUNDLING, THIEF, JUGGLER, AND FENCING-MASTER - DURING THE FRENCH REVOLUTION - - - - *I* - -_Of how Francois the foundling was cared for by the good fathers of the -Benedictine Asylum for Orphans, and of what manner of lad he was._ - - -In the summer of the year 1777 a lad of about ten years, clad in a suit -of gray, was playing in the high-walled garden of the Benedictine Asylum -for Orphans in Paris. The sun was pleasant, the birds sang overhead, -the roses were many, for the month was June. A hundred lads were -noisily running about. They had the look of being well fed, decently -clothed, and kindly cared for. An old priest walked to and fro, at -times looking up from his breviary to say a pleasant word or to check -some threatening quarrel. - -Presently he paused beside the boy who was at the moment intently -watching a bird on a branch overhead. As the priest turned, the boy had -thrown himself on the grass and was laughing heartily. - -"What amuses thee, my son?" said the father. - -"I am laughing at the birds." - -"And why do they make thee laugh, Francois!" - -"I do not know." - -"And I," said the priest, "do not know why the birds sing, nor why thou -dost laugh. Thou hast a talent that way. The good God grant thee -always cause"; and with his eyes on his breviary, and his lips moving in -prayer, he walked away. - -The lad fell back again on the grass, and laughed anew, as if overcome -with some jest he shared with no one but the birds overhead. This was a -kindly little waif brought hither from the Enfants Trouves, nameless -except for the card pinned on the basket in which he lay when the -unknown mother left him, a red-faced baby, to the charity of asylum -life. - -His constant mirthfulness was a sad cross to some of the good fathers, -for neither punishment, fast, nor penance got the better of this gaiety, -nor served to repress its instinctive expression. He had, too,--what is -rare in childhood,--quick powers of observation, and a certain joy in -the world of nature, liking to lie on his back and watch the birds at -work, or pleased to note the daily changes of flowers or the puzzling -journeys of the ants which had their crowded homes beneath the lilacs in -undisturbed corners of the garden. His nearest mother, Nature, meant -the boy to be one of those rare beings who find happiness in the use of -keen senses and in a wakeful mind, which might have been trained to -employ its powers for the partial conquest of some of her many kingdoms. -But no friendly hand was here to guide, no example present to incite or -lift him. The simple diet provided for the intellect of these little -ones was like the diet of their table--the same for one and for all. - -His head was high, his face long; all his features were of unusual size, -the mouth and ears of disproportionate magnitude; altogether, a quaint -face, not quite of to-day, a something Gothic and medieval in its -general expression. - -The dull round of matins and vespers, the routine of lessons, the silent -refectory meals, went on year after year with little variation. The boy -Francois simply accepted them as did the rest; but, unlike some of his -comrades, he found food for mirth, silent, gentle, or boisterous, where -no other saw cause for amusement. - -Once a week a sober line of gray-clad boys, with here and there a -watchful priest, filed through the gay streets to mass at St. Eustache -or Notre Dame. He learned, as he grew, to value these chances, and to -look forward with eager anticipation to what they brought him. During -these walks the quick-minded Francois saw and heard a hundred things -which aroused his curiosity. The broad gardens of the Luxembourg, the -young fellows at unrestricted play, the river and the boats, by degrees -filled him with keen desire to see more of this outer world, and to have -easy freedom to roam at will. It was the first flutter of wings longing -for natural flight. Before they set out on these journeys, a good -father at the great gateway said to them as they went by: "Look neither -to the right nor to the left, my children. 'T is a day of prayer. -Remember!" Alas! what eyes so busy as those of Francois? "Look at -this--at that," he would cry to the lads close to him. "Be quiet, -there!" said the priests' low voices; and on this Francis's droll face -would begin to express the unspoken delight he found in the outer world -of men and things. This naughty outside world kept calling him to share -its liberty. The boy liked best the choir, where his was the most -promising voice. Here was happiness such as the use of dexterous hands -or observant eyes also gave him. Religion was to him largely a matter -of formal service. But in this, as in secular education, the -individuality of the creature may not be set aside without risk of -disaster. For all alike there was the same dull round, the same -instruction. Nevertheless, the vast influence of these repeated -services, and of the constant catechism, he continued to feel to his -latest day. - -He was emotional and imaginative, fond of color, and sensitive to music; -but the higher lessons of the church, which should control the life of -action, were without effect on a character which was naturally one of -exceptional levity. Such a mind has small power to apply to the conduct -of life the mere rules laid down for its guidance, and is apt to accept -as personally useful only what comes from the lessons of experience. - - - - - *II* - -_In which Francois becomes a choir-boy, and serves two masters, to the -impairment of his moral sense._ - - -He was about fourteen, and the best of the choir, when a great change -took place in his life. He was sent, with a dozen others, to the vestry -of Notre Dame, and there carefully tested as to the power and quality of -his voice. The masters of the choir were exacting, but, to his great -delight, he was thought the best of the four who were finally selected -to fill vacancies among the boy choristers of the cathedral. This came -about in the autumn of the year 1781. - -The next day he received a long lecture on how he should behave himself; -and thus morally provided, was sent, with his small belongings in a bag, -to the house of certain of the choir-masters who lived in the Rue des -Chanteurs. One of the priests who escorted the four boys stood at the -door of the house of the choir, and saying good-by to them as they went -in, bade them come, if they might, and visit their old home; and so, -with a benediction, sent them forth into a larger world. - -It was not much larger, nor was it as agreeable. When the good father -left them, one Tomas, who was steward of the choir-house, took the lads -in charge. - -"Up with ye, singing-birds!" he cried; "up! up!" And this at each -story: "It will soon be your best chance of heaven; up! up!" until they -reached a large attic under the tiles. - -It was a dismal place, and hospitable to every wind that blew. Each of -twelve choir-boys had a straw mattress on the floor, and pegs where hung -his clothes and the white surplice he wore during service. The four -newcomers took possession, and were soon informed by Tomas of their -duties. They must be up at five to sing before breakfast with the -second chanter. - -"Before breakfast!" cried one of the recruits. - -"Little animal!" said Tomas. "Before thou dost eat there is room to -fill thy chest; but after, what boy hath room? Breakfast at six and a -half; at seven a lesson. Thou wilt intone with Pere Lalatte." - -Thus the day was to be filled; for here were lessons a-plenty in Latin, -and all must learn to read and to write, for they might be priests some -blessed day. - -Francois reflected as Tomas packed the hours with this and that as one -packs a bag. He made his face as grave as nature would let it be, and -said it was very nice, and that he liked to sing. Was there anything -else? Tomas replied that this first day they might ask questions, but -that after that he (Tomas) had only one answer, because to have only one -saved thinking. - -This amused Francois, who was prematurely capable of seeing the fun of -things. - -When a duller boy who did not apprehend asked to know more he received -an illustration in the form of a smart smack, which proved convincingly -instructive, and silenced all but Francois, who asked, "Please, -monsieur, when may we play?" and "Is there anything more?" - -Tomas replied that there was a free hour before supper, and a little -while somewhere about noon in the garden; also, they must wait on table; -and oh, he forgot the prayers; and then went on to complete the packing -of the day with various small duties in the nature of attentions to the -comfort of Tomas. With some last words as to the time of the next meal, -the steward left them. - -The lads, silent and anxious, arranged their small possessions. A -little goldfinch in a wicker cage was Francis's most valued property; he -had taught it many pretty tricks, and now he had been allowed to bring -it with him. Francois put the cage on the window-ledge, and fed his -brightly tinted bird from a small store of millet with which he had -filled his pocket. Then he looked out to see what prospect the view -from the attic afforded. - -The home of the master-choristers was an ancient house of the days of -Henri IV, and leaned so far over that as the boy looked out he had a -sudden fear lest it should be about to tumble. The street was not more -than twelve feet wide. The opposite dwellings were a full story below -the attic from which the boy looked. The nearest house across the way -had an ancient stoop. Others bent back from the line of the street, and -the open windows gave them a look of yawning weariness which set the boy -to gaping in sympathy. - -Above was a mottled wilderness of discolored tiles, chimney-pots, and -here and there gray corner turrets with vanes which seemed to entertain -diverse views as to the direction whence the wind blew. Below was the -sunless well of the street. As he gazed he saw the broad hats of -priests hiding the figures beneath them. It interested the boy. It was -new and strange. He was too intent to notice that all but he had gone, -obedient to an order of Tomas. - -A woman at a window over the way let fall a skirt she had been drying. -It sailed to and fro, and fell on the head of a reflective abbe. The -boy broke into laughter. A cat climbed on to a chimney-pot, and was met -by a gust of smoke from the flue beside it. She scrambled off, sneezing. - -"What fun!" cried the boy, and laughed again. - -"Little beast!" shouted Tomas. "Must I come for thee? 'T is not -permitted to laugh. It is forbid to laugh. It spoils the voice"--a -queer notion which, to his sorrow, the boy found to prevail in the house -of the choristers. - -"How can that be?" said Francois, boldly. - -The man gave him to understand that he was to obey his betters without -answering, and then, taking the cage from the window, said: -"Come--quick, too! Thou art late for the dinner, and must do without -it. There is a singing-lesson. Off with thee!" - -He was leaving the room when, suddenly, a strange fury of anger came on -the boy. He snatched the cage from the man's hand, crying, "My bird! -It is my bird!" - -Tomas caught him, and began to administer a smart cuffing; but the lad -was vigorous and of feline agility. He used nails, teeth, and feet. -Then, of a sudden, he ceased to struggle, and fell on a mattress in an -agony of tears. The man had set his foot on the fallen cage, crying: - -"I will teach thee a lesson, little animal!" - -There lay in the crushed cage the dead bird, still quivering, a -shapeless mass of green and yellow with a splotch of red. It was the -first lesson of that larger world toward which the foundling had been so -joyfully looking. - -He made no further resistance to the discipline which followed. Then -came a dark cell and bread and water for a weary day, and much profit in -the way of experience. It was a gentle home he had left. He had known -there no unkindness, nor had he ever so sinned as to suffer more than -some mild punishment. The new life was hard, the diet spare. As the -winter came on, the attic proved to be cold. The winds came in from the -tiles above and through the shrunken window-frames. Once within, they -seemed to stay and to wander in chilly gusts. The dark suits worn by -the choir-boys were none too warm. If the white surplice were clean, -little more was asked in that direction. There were long services twice -a day at the great cathedral near by, and three hours of practice under -the eye of a junior chorister. The boys were abed at eight, and up at -five; and for play, there were two uncertain hours--after the noon meal -and at seven in the evening--when they were free to move about a small -court behind the house, or to rest, if they pleased, in the attic. Four -days in the week there were lessons in Latin and in reading and writing. -Assuredly the devil had little of the chance which idle hours are -presumed to give. But this fallen angel has also the industry of the -minute, and knows how to profit by the many chances of life. He -provided suggestive lessons in the habits of the choristers who dwelt in -the stories above the wine-shop on the first floor. Sounds of gay -carouses reached the small garret saints at night, and gay voices were -heard which had other than masculine notes. At meal-times the -choir-boys waited on their masters, and fetched their food from the -kitchen. The lads soon learned to take toll on the way, and to comfort -their shrunken stomachs with a modest share of the diet of their -betters. - -"Little rats!" said Tomas the steward, "you will squeal in purgatory for -this; and 't were better to give you a dose of it here." And so certain -of the rats, on account of temporary excess of feed, were given none for -a day, and left in a cold cellar to such moral aids as reflection might -fetch. - -Francois sat with his comrades of mishap in the gloom, and devised new -ways of procuring food and concealing their thefts. - -"Rats we are," said Francois, gaily; "and rats had need be smart; and -who ever heard that the _bon Dieu_ sent rats to purgatory?" Then he -hatched queer stories to keep up the spirits of the too penitent; and -whether full or empty, cold or warm, took all that came with perpetual -solace of good-humored laughter. It was not in him to bear malice. The -choir-masters liked him, and with the boys he was the leader. - -Most of the dozen choir-bays were dull fellows; but this sharp-witted -Francois was of other make, and found in the table-talk of the -choristers, and of the cure's who came now and then to share their ample -fare, food for such thoughts as a boy thinks. He soon learned, as he -grew older, how difficult is complete sin; how many outlets there are -for him who, being penitent, desires to create new opportunities for -penitence. Francois was fast forming his character. He had small need -to look for excuses, and a meager talent for regret. When his stomach -was full he was good, and when it was empty he must, as he said in after -years, "fill it to squeeze out Satan." - -There were singular books about, and for his education, now that he read -Latin fairly well, a manual on confession. It was not meant for -half-fed choir-boys. More fascinating were the confessions of one -Rousseau--a highly educative book for a clever boy of sixteen. At this -age Francois was a long-legged, active fellow, a keen-witted domestic -brigand, expert in providing for his wants, and eagerly desirous of -seeing more of the outside world, of the ways of which he was so -ignorant. The procession of closely watched boys went to church and -back again to the old house at least once a day, and this was his only -glimpse of the entertaining life of the streets. When left to himself, -he liked best in good weather to sit at the open attic window and watch -the cats on the roofs across the way. So near were the houses that he -could toss a bone or a crust on to the roof opposite, and delight to see -these Ishmaelites contend for the prize. He grew to know them, so that -they would come at dusk to the roof-edge, and contemplate dietetic -possibilities with eager and luminous eyes. Being versed in the Bible, -as all good choir-boys should be, he found names for his feline friends -which fitted their qualities; for there, among the chimneys, was a small -world of stirring life which no man disturbed. He saw battles, -jealousies, greediness, and loves. Constancy was not there. Solomon of -the many wives was king of the tiles; a demure blue cat was Susannah, -for good reasons; and there, too, were the elders. It might have seemed -to some pitiful angel a sad picture--this poor lad in the grasp of -temptations, but made for better chances, finding his utmost joy in the -distant company of these lean Arabs of the desert housetops. - - - - - *III* - -_Of the misfortunes caused by loss of a voice, and of how a cat and a -damsel got Francois into trouble--whereupon, preferring the world to a -monastery, he ran away from the choristers of Notre Dame._ - - -It was in the month of June, in the year 1784, that a female got him -into trouble, and aided to bring about a decision as to his future. -This was, however, only one of the distressing incidents which at the -time affected his career, and was not his final experience of the perils -to which attention to the other sex may expose the unwary. A few days -before the sad event which brought about a change in Francois's life, he -was engaged in singing one of the noble Gregorian chants. Never had he -used his voice with greater satisfaction. He was always pleased and -eagerly ambitious when in the choir, and was then at his best. This day -it seemed to him, as he sang, that his clear tones rose like a bird, and -that something of him was soaring high among the resonant arches -overhead. Of a sudden his voice broke into a shrill squeak. The -choir-master shook a finger at him, and he fell into a dead silence, and -sang no more that morning. The little white-robed procession marched -out, and when it reached the gray old house there was wrath and -consternation over the broken treble. He was blamed and beaten; but, -after all, it was a too likely misfortune. If it chanced again he must -go to the Dominican convent at Auteuil, and perhaps in a year or two -would be lucky enough to get back his voice. Meanwhile let him take -care. Poor Francois did his best; but a week later, amid the solemnity -of a mass for the dead, came once more that fatal break in the voice. -He knew that his fate was sealed. - -Little was said this time, but he overheard the head of the choir -arranging with Tomas the steward that the boy should go to Auteuil. -Until then he was no longer to serve in the choir. - -Francois had seen all this occur before, when, as was common, some -little singer lost control of his changing voice. His case was -hopeless. Yet here was an idle time and no more singing-lessons. But a -part of the small joys of a life not rich in happy moments was gone, to -come back no more, as he knew too well. Of late his fine quality of -song had won him some indulgence, and he had learned how much a fine -voice might mean. Dim visions began to open before him, as he heard of -how choir-boys had conquered fame and wealth in France or elsewhere. -One day the leader of the choir had praised him and his diligence, and -hoped he would never leave them. He was told what a great possession -was a voice like his, and had even been envied by the less gifted. Now -this possession was taken from him, and he was at once made sadly aware -of his loss. His vanity, always great, was wounded to the quick. A -little kindness would have led him to go to the convent and hopefully -bide his time; but nobody cared, or seemed to care, for him, or to pity -what to his active imagination was a fatal wreck of goodly chances. - -For a day or two he went about disconsolate, and was set to serve in the -kitchen or to wait on the man Tomas, who jeered at his squeaky voice, -and called him "little pig," with additions of some coarser amenities of -language, and certain information as to the convent life of a lay -servant ill calculated to make Auteuil appear desirable. - -In his leisure hours, which now were many, Francois took refuge from the -jests of his fellows in the lonely garret. The people across the way in -their rooms amused him. The cats were never long absent. He watched -their cunning search for the nests of the sparrows, and very soon began -to feel again the invincible lifting power of his comic nature. Some -remembrance of the alarm in the choir-master's face when his voice broke -came upon Francois, and he began to laugh. Just then he saw Solomon on -the roof opposite. The master of a populous harem was in the company of -the two naughty elders. Susannah, behind a chimney, was making her -modest toilet with a skilful tongue. He called her, and held up a -tempting bone. The shy maiden hesitated. He called, "Suzanne, Suzanne!" -to bring her to the edge of the tiled roof and near enough to make sure -that the elders would not capture her desired prize. - -As he called, a little grisette who was hanging out clothes to dry -kissed her hand to the boy. Francois had seen her before. She was not -attractive. He liked his cats better. "Suzanne, Suzanne!" he called, -as the virgin, looking about her, daintily picked her way to the edge. -High on the roof-top, Solomon exhorted the elders, and in a moment backs -were humped, and claws out, and there was bad language used, which may -have been Hebrew, but at all events appeared to be sufficiently -expressive; for the elders and Solomon, of a sudden rolling over in a -wild scuffle, disappeared on the farther side of the roof. This was the -maid's opportunity, and gratefully licking her anticipative chops, she -crawled to the gutter. - -"_Bonne Suzanne_! _Viens donc_! Come, come, Suzanne!" cried the boy. - -Of a sudden a smart box on the ear broke up this pretty love-affair. -There stood Tomas. - -"A nice choir-boy! Talking with that beast of a grisette!" Then there -were more liberal whacks as the boy, in a rage, was dragged away, and -bidden to come down-stairs and carry to market the nets used in place of -baskets. Tomas usually went alone to buy provisions, but now the -choir-boy was free and could be made of use. - -Francois uttered no complaint. It was literally the only time he had -had a chance to be in the streets, except as part of the procession to -and from the church. He was sore, angry, and resentful of the ill usage -which in the last few days had taken the place of the growing respect -his talent had created. He took the nets and his cap, and followed -Tomas. "What a chance!" he thought to himself. - -The boy concealed the delight he felt, and followed the steward, who -went down to the river and across it to the open market on the farther -bank. He stopped here and there to buy provisions and to chat with the -market-women. When one of them, pleased with the odd-looking lad, gave -him an apple, Tomas took it from him. Francois laughed, which seemed -always to offend the saturnine steward. He could not destroy the -pleasure of the gay market for Francois, who made queer faces at the -mistresses of the stalls, teased the dogs and cats for sale in cages, -and generally made himself happy until they came home again. - -But from this time onward, except for these excursions, his life was -made miserable enough. He was the slave of Tomas, and was cruelly -reminded day after day of the misery of him who has a servant for his -master. - -At last he learned that the time was near when he must go to Auteuil. -His voice had been tested again, and he had been told that there was -small hope of its return. He began to think of escape. Once he was -sent alone on an errand to a shop near by. He lingered to see some -street-jugglers, and paid for it with a day in a damp cellar. Within -this sad home he now found only reproaches and unthanked labor. The -choristers laughed at him, and the happier boys mocked his changed -voice. On the day after his last experience of the cellar, he was told -by Tomas to be ready to go to Auteuil, and was ordered once again to -follow the steward to market. He took up the nets and went after him. -The lad looked back at the choir-house. He meant to see it no more. He -was now seventeen, and in the three years of his stay had learned many -things, some good and some bad. - -They went past Notre Dame to the quai, and through rows of stalls along -the shores of the Seine. Tomas soon filled the nets, which were hung -over Francois's shoulders. Meanwhile the chattering women, the birds -and cages, the flowers, the moving, many-colored crowd, amused or -pleased the boy, but by no means turned him from his purpose. - -"Come!" cried Tomas, and began to elbow his way through the noisy people -on the river-bank. Presently Francois got behind him, and noting his -chances with a ready eye, slipped through between the booths and darted -up the Seine. - - - - - *IV* - -_Of how the world used Francois, and of the reward of virtue. He makes -his first friend._ - - -When Tomas, having won his way out of the press about a fortune-teller, -looked for Francois, there was a lost choir-boy and two days' diet gone -none knew whither--least of all the fugitive. He moved away with the -speed of fear, and was soon in the somber network of narrow streets -which in those days made a part of the Ile de la Cite the refuge of the -finest assortment of thieves, bravos, gypsies, and low women to be found -in any capital of Europe. - -His scared looks and decent black suit betrayed him. An old fellow -issued from a doorway like a spider. "Ha, ha, little thief!" he said; -"I will buy thy plunder." - -Francois was well pleased. He took eagerly the ten sous offered, and -saw the spider poke a long red beak into the loaded nets as he passed -out of sight in the dark doorway. Francois looked at the money. It was -the first he had ever owned. He walked away in haste, happy to be free, -and so over a bridge to the Ile St. Louis, with its pretty gardens and -the palaces of the great nobles. At the far end of the isle he sat down -in the sun and watched the red barges go by, and took no more care for -to-morrow than does a moth just out of its cocoon. He caught up the -song of a man near by who was mending a bateau. He whistled as he cast -stones into the water. It was June, and warm, and before him the river -playing with the sunset gold, and behind him the dull roar of Paris. -Ah, the pleasure to do as he would! Why had he waited so long? - -Toward night he wandered back into the Cite, and saw an old woman -selling fried potatoes, and crying, "Two sous, two sous!" He asked for -thus much, and received them in the top of his cap. The hag took his -ten-sou piece, and told him to begone. Amazed at this bit of villainy, -poor Francois entreated her to give him his change. She called him a -thief, and when a dreadful man sallied out of a wine-shop and made -murderous threats, the boy ran as fast as he could go, and never ceased -until he got to the river again. There, like Suzanne, he kept watch for -the foes of property, and at last ate his potatoes, and began to reflect -on this last lesson in morality. He had stolen many morsels, many -dinners, and his fair share of wine; but to be himself robbed of his -entire means was calculated to enlarge his views of what is possible in -life, and also undesirable. The night was warm; he slept well in an -abandoned barge, but woke up early to feel that liberty had its -drawbacks, and that emptiness of stomach was one of the large family of -needs which stimulate the ingenuity of man or boy. - -Quite at a loss, he wandered once more through the slums of the Cite, -and soon lost himself in the network of narrow streets to the north of -the cathedral, hearing, as he went, strange slang, which his namesake -Francois Villon would have better understood than he. The filth of the -roadways and that of the tongue were here comparable. Some boys, seeing -his sober suit of the dark cloth worn by the choir, pelted him with -stones. He ran for his life, and falling over a man who was sawing -wood, received a kick for remembrance. Far away he paused breathless in -a dark lane which seemed unpeopled, and where the houses leaned over -like palsied old scoundrels who whisper to one another of ancient crime. -Even to a boy the place was of a sudden terrible. There was murder in -the air. - -He felt, without knowing why, the danger of the place. A painted -creature, half clad, came out of a house--a base animal whom the -accident of sex had made a woman. She called to him to come in. He -turned and went by her in haste and horror. A man in a red shirt ran -toward him, crying out some ordures of speech. As he fled there was a -sudden peopling of window and doorway with half-naked drunken men and -women. He had never before seen such faces. He was in that pit of -crime and bestiality which before long was to overflow and riot in a -limitless debauch of blood. The boy's long legs served him well. He -dodged and ran this way and that. At the mouth of the _cul-de-sac_ a -lank boy caught him by the arm. Francois struck him fiercely, and with -a sense of joy in the competence of the first blow he had ever given one -of his own years, he fled again; nor did he pause until, free from foes, -he stood panting in the open sunshine below the great buttresses of -Notre Dame. - -He saw here that no one took notice of him, and, once more at ease, -crossed from the Cite to the right bank of the Seine. Thus wandering he -came at last to one of the low bridges which spanned the broad ditches -then bounding the Place Louis XV, where now is the Place de la Concorde. -The ducks and swans in these canals delighted him. He lingered, liking -the gaiety and careless joy of the children with their nurses. The -dogs, acrobats, musketeers, and the pomp of heavy, painted carriages -rolling by with servants in liveries, the Swiss guards, the magnificence -of the king's palace, were all to him as a new world might have been. - -He went on, and at last along the Rue St. Honore and to the Palais -Royal, where, amid its splendid shops, cafes, jugglers, fortune-tellers, -and richly clad people, he forgot for an hour his poor little stomach -and its claims. By and by he took note of the success of a blind -beggar. He watched him for an hour, and knew that he had in this time -gathered in sous at least a franc. The shrunken stomach of the boy -began to convert its claims into demands, and with this hint he put on a -sad face and began to beg. It was not a very prosperous business; but -he stated his emptiness so pitifully, and his voice had such sweet, -pleading notes, that at last he thus acquired six or eight sous, and -retired to the outer gate to count them. - -The imprudence of estimating wealth in public was soon made clear to -him. He was seated back of the open grille, his cap on his lap, when a -quick, clawlike hand, thrust between the railings, darted over his -shoulder, and seized two thirds of his gains. He started up in time to -see that the thief was the blind beggar, who was away and lost in the -crowd and among the horses and carriages, to all appearances in -excellent possession of the sense of sight. Pursuit was vain. -Francois's education was progressing. Most lads thus tormented by fate -would have given way to rage or tears. Francois cried out, -"_Sathanas!_" not knowing as yet any worse expletive, and burst into a -roar of laughter. At least there were three sous left, and these he put -into his pocket. His lessons were not over. The crowd thinned at noon, -and he rose to go in search of food. At this moment a gentleman in very -gorgeous dress, with ruffles, sword, and a variety of dazzling -splendors, went by, and at the boy's feet let fall a lace handkerchief. -Francois seized it, and stood still a moment. Then he put it in his -breast, and again stood still. To take food is one thing; to steal a -handkerchief is quite another. He was weak with hunger, but he had three -sous. He ran after the gentleman, and cried: - -"Here is your handkerchief!" - -"A very honest lad," said its owner; "you will do well in the world "; -and so went his way, leaving to virtue the proverbial reward of virtue. -This time Francois did not laugh. In the Rue St. Honore he bought some -boiled beans for two sous, and retired to eat them in peace on the steps -of St. Roch. Soon he saw a woman with a tin pan come out of a little -shop and after her a half-grown black poodle. She set down the pan, and -left the dog to his meal. Francois reconnoitered cautiously, and giving -the dog a little kick, fled with the pan, and was shortly safe in an -unfrequented passage behind the church. Here he found that he was master -of a chop and a half-eaten leg of chicken. He had eaten the chop and -some crusts, as well as the beans, when he became aware of the black -poodle, which, being young, still had confidence in human nature, and -now, with sense of ownership, thrust his black nose in the pan of -lessening viands. - -Francois laughed gaily. The touch of friendly trust gave the lonely boy -a thrill of joy, and, with some reluctance doubtless, he gave the dog -what was left, feeding him in bits, and talking as a comrade to a -comrade. The poodle was clearly satisfied. This was very delightful -society, and he was receiving such attention as flatters a decent dog's -sense of his social position. The diet was less than usual, but the -company was of the best, and inspired the extreme of confidence. There -is a charm of equality as between dog and boy. Both are of Bohemia. -The poodle stood up when asked to beg. He was invited to reveal his -name. He received with the sympathetic sadness of the motionless tail -the legend of Francois's woes. - -When at last Francois rose, the dog followed him a little way, saying -plainly, "Where thou goest I will go." But the unlicked pan needed -attention; he turned back to the fleshpots. Seeing himself deserted, a -vague sadness came upon Francois. It was the shadow of an -uncomprehended emotion. He said, "Adieu, _mon ami!_" and left the -little black fellow with his nose in the pan. - -An hour of wandering here and there brought Francois to the palisades -around the strong foundations of the new church of the Madeleine. -Beyond were scattered country houses, the Pepinieres of the king, and -the great English garden of Monceaux belonging to the Duc d'Orleans. -This fascinating stretch of trees and green and boundless country was -like a heavenly land to the boy. No dream could be more strange. He -set out by the Rue de la Pologne, and at last went with timid doubt -through the _barriere_, and was soon in the open country. To his -surprise, he heard a yap at his side, and there was the little black -poodle, apparently as well pleased as he. Francois had no scruples as -to ownership. _Mon Dieu!_ had he stolen the dog, or had the dog stolen -him? They ran along happy, the boy as little troubled as the dog by -questions of conscience. The country was not productive of easily won -food, but a few stolen plums were to be had. A girl coming from milking -gave a jug of milk, which Francois, despite keen hunger, shared with his -friend. When a couple of miles from Paris, he sat down to rest by the -roadside. The dog leaped on to his lap, and the boy, as he lay in the -sun, began to think of a name for this new friend. He tried merrily all -the dog-names he could think of; but when at last he called, "Toto!" the -poodle barked so cordially that Francois sagaciously inclined to the -belief that he must have hit upon the poodle's name. "Toto it shall -be," he cried. All that day they wandered joyfully, begged a crust, and -at night slept in an orchard, the poodle clasped to the boy's bosom--a -pair of happy vagabonds. - -When, next day, the pair of them, half starved, were disconsolately -returning toward Paris, an old woman bade Francois earn a few sous by -picking strawberries. But the dog must not range the garden; he should -be tied in the kitchen. Francois worked hard at the matter in hand, -taking good toll of the berries, and at noon went back with the old dame -to her cottage. - -"It is five sous, _mon garcon_, and a bowl of milk thou shalt have, and -a bit of meat; and how merry thou art!" - -Alas! as she opened the door the poodle fled past her with a whole steak -in his mouth. Hot it was, but of such delicate savor that it gave him -courage to hold on. The old woman threw a stool after him, and cried -out in wrath that they were both thieves. Then she turned on poor -Francois with fury and a broom, so that he had scarce time to leap the -fence and follow the dog. He found him at last with his rather dusty -prize; and seeing no better thing to do, he went deep into a wood, and -there filled himself as he had not done for days. The brigand Toto had -his share, and thus reinforced, they set out again to return to Paris. - - - - - *V* - -_Of the immorality which may come of an empty stomach, and of how -Francois became acquainted with a human crab._ - - -This nomad life was sadly uncertain; but Toto was a sharp forager, and -what with a sou begged here and there, and the hospitality of summer, -for a while they were not ill contented. But at last Francois passed -two days of such lean living as set his wits to work. There was clearly -no help for it, and with a rueful face he entered the shop whence Toto -had followed his uncertain fortunes. - -The owner was a pleasant little woman who took honesty for granted. -Yes, it was her dog; and how long he had been gone! Here was a great -piece of twenty sous; and where did he find the poodle? Francois -declared that he lived near by and knew the dog. He had found him in -the Rue du Faubourg St. Lazare. And was it so far away as that? He -must be tired, and for his honesty should be well fed. Thus, rich as -never before, and with a full stomach, he left Toto tied up, and went -out into the world again, lonely and sad. - -Needless is it to describe his wanderings, or to relate how the lonely -lad acquired the sharp ways of a gamin of the streets. For a while he -begged or stole what food he required. Some four months later, a -combination of motives led him into theft which was not mere foraging. - -On a cold November day he was again in the crowded gardens and arcades -of the Palais Royal. He was shabby enough by this time, and was sharply -reminded by the cool nights of the need for shelter. By chance his eye -lighted on the man who shammed blindness and had stolen his precious -sous. The beggar was kneeling, cap in hand, with closed eyes, his head -turned upward, entreating pity for his loss of sight. There were some -sous in his cap. A Francois passed he made believe to add another sou, -and as he did so deftly scooped up the greater part of the coins. - -The blind man cried out; but the boy skipped aside, laughing, well aware -that for the beggar to pursue him would be hardly advisable, as he might -lose more than he could gain. - -A few sous were of small account. They insured a meal, but not a -lodging. As he was thus reflecting, he saw near by and presently beside -him the gentleman who had so highly appreciated the return of his -handkerchief. The coat pockets were large in those days, and the crowd -was great. A little white corner of lace besought Master Francois, -crying, "I am food and lodging for thee!" Whereupon it was done, and a -lace handkerchief changed owners. - -It cannot be said that these downward steps cost Francois any moral -discomfort. He grinned as he thought of the beggar's perplexity, and -laughed outright as he felt how complete had been his own joy in the -satisfaction of possession could he have made the owner of the kerchief -understand that he had suffered not merely a theft, but the punishment -of injustice. - -Francois was now too well versed in the ways of the street-boy, too -dirty and too ragged, to fear the Cite. Thither he went, and found a -thieves' shop, where he sold the handkerchief, and got ten francs for -what was worth thirty. - -The question of a place where he could be sure of a bed was his first -consideration on coming into his fortune. In the long, warm summers of -France one who was not particular could find numerous roosting-places, -but in winter a more constant home was to be desired. - -In the Cite Francois had occasionally lodged here and there when he -could afford to pay, and had been turned out when he had no more sous. -Now, being affluent, and therefore hard to please, he wandered until he -came upon the lodging-house of an old woman in the Rue Perpignan. He -knew of her as a dealer in thieves' goods, and as ever ready to shelter -the lucky--and, it was suspected, as willing to betray those who were -persistently unfortunate. - -What drew him to this woman's house it were hard to tell. She was -repulsive in appearance, but, strangely enough, was clean as to her -person, dress, and abode. Asylum life had taught Francois to be -cleanly. He declares in his memoirs that he was by habit neat, and that -it was the absence of dirt which first tempted him into a relation which -was so largely to affect his after life. - -When he became one of this woman's lodgers he took a step which was for -him of moment. Now for the first time he was to be in the company of -old and practised thieves; but he was not yet of an age to be troubled -as to the future or to reflect upon the past. The horizon of youth is -small. - -He found plenty of masters to educate him in the evil business into -which he had been driven by relentless fate. Never was pupil more -ready. His hostess appreciated the cleverness of her new lodger, but it -was long before he himself realized how strange was the aspect and how -sinister the nature of this mother of evil. - -Certain historical epochs create types of face. This was a period which -manufactured many singular visages. None was more strange than that -which Mme. Quatre Pattes carried on a body quite as remarkable. -Francois speaks of her over and over in his memoirs, and dwells upon the -peculiarities of her appearance. I recall well what he said to me, one -evening, of this creature: - -"You see, monsieur, I went to one den of thieves and another until I -chanced upon the Crab. It is not to be described; for here in a little -room was a witch, crumpled and deformed, sharply bent forward as to the -back from the waist, and--ah, _diablement_ thin! She was cleanly and -even neat, and her room was a marvel, because over there in the Cite men -were born and lived and died, and never saw a clean thing. And she was -of a strangeness--consider, monsieur; imagine you a bald head, and a -lean face below, very red, and the skin drawn so tight over the bones as -to shine. Her eyes were little and of a dull gray; but they held you. -Her lips were lean, and she kept them moving in a queer way as if -chewing. I did laugh when first I saw her, but not often afterward." - -When he confided to this clean and horrible creature what he wanted, she -made him welcome. She rattled the two sticks which her bent form made -needful for support. She would house him cheaply; but he must be -industrious--and to sell a lace handkerchief for ten francs--_tonnerre_! -He needed caution. She would be a _bonne maman_ to him--she, Quatre -Pattes, "four paws"; the Crab, they called her, too, for short, and -because of her red leanness and spite; but what was her real name he did -not learn for many a day. At first her appearance excited in his mind -no emotion except amazement and mirth. A terrible old crab it was when -she showed her toothless gums and howled obscenities, while her sticks -were used with strange agility. The quarter feared her. M. Francois -had a fortune in his face, she said; and did he know the _savate_, the -art to kick? There was a master next door. And again, what a face! -With that face he might lie all day, and who would disbelieve him? -Better to fetch her what he stole. She would see that no one cheated -him but herself, and that would be ever so little. One must live. When -she laughed, which was not often, Francois felt that a curse were more -gay. There were devil-women in those days, as the mad world of Paris -soon came to know; and the Crab, with her purple nose and crooked red -claws, was of the worst. - - - - - *VI* - -_Of how Francois regained a lost friend, and of his adventure with the -poet Horace and another gentleman._ - - -Thus Francois was launched on what he was pleased to call the business -of life, and soon became expert in the transfer of property. Strange to -say, he had little pleasure in the debauchery of successful crime, and -was too good-natured to like violence. When he had enough for his -moderate wants he wandered in the country, here and there, in an -aimless, drifting way. Simple things gave him pleasure. He could lie -in the woods or on the highway half a day, only moving to keep in the -sun. He liked to watch any living creature--to see the cows feed, to -observe the birds. He had a charm for all animals. When the wagons went -by, dogs deserted them, and came to him for a touch and a word. Best of -all it was to sit beside some peasant's beehive, finding there no -enmity, and smiling at the laborious lives he had no mind to imitate. -Sometimes he yearned for the lost poodle, and had a pang of loneliness. -That this man should have had gentle tastes, a liking for nature, a -regard for some of the decencies of life, will not surprise those who -know well the many varieties of the young criminal class; neither will -these be amazed to learn that now and then he heard mass, and crossed -himself devoutly when there was occasion. Children he fascinated; a -glance of his long, odd face would make them leave nurse and toy, and -sidle up to him. In the Cite these singularities made him avoided, while -his growing strength caused him to be feared. He sought no friends -among the thieves. "Very prudent, that," said Mme. Quatre Pattes; "the -more friends, the more enemies." - -He was quick and active, and a shrewd observer; for the hard life of the -streets had sharpened his naturally ready wits, and he looked far older -than his years. Of a Sunday in May he was walking down the Rue St. -Honore, feeling a bit lonely, as was not often the case, when he saw -Toto. He whistled, and the poodle ran to him, and would no more of the -shop or fat food he liked. - -"Toto! _Mon Dieu_!" he laughed, hugging the dog, his eyes full with the -tears of joy. "Hast stolen me again! Wilt never return me? 'T is no -honest dog. _Viens donc_. Come, then, old friend." Joyous in the -company of his comrade, who was now well grown, he strolled out into the -fields, where Toto caught a rabbit--a terrible crime in those days. - -During the next two years the pair fairly prospered. Francois, as he -used to relate, having risen in his profession, found a certain pleasure -in good clothes, and being of a dramatic turn, could put on an air of -bourgeois sobriety, or, with a sword at his side and a bit of lace here -and there, swagger as a lesser gentleman. If things were very bad, he -sold Toto and all his fine tricks for a round sum, and in a day or two -was sure to find the dog overjoyed and back again at the garret door. -The pair were full of devices. There was Toto, a plated snuff-box in -his mouth, capering before some old gentle or some slow-pacing merchant; -appears Francois, resistlessly smiling. - -"Has monsieur lost a snuff-box? My dog? Yes, monsieur. He is honest, -and clever too." - -Monsieur, hastily searching, produces his own snuff-box--the -indispensable snuff-box of the day. - -"No; thanks." And it is noted that the box he shows is of gold, and -into what pocket it falls. In the next crowd Toto knows how to make a -disturbance with some fat lap-dog, and in the confusion thus created the -snuff-box changes owners. - -"If the man be sorry, I at least am made happy," says Francois; "and he -hath been the better for a lesson in caution. I got what I needed, and -he what he required. Things are very even in this world." Francois had -learned philosophy among the cures and priests of the choir-house. As -he avoided great risks, and, as I have said, was averse to violence, he -kept clear of detection, and could deceive the police of the king if by -rare chance he were in peril of arrest. When the missing property was -some minor article, such as a handkerchief, it was instantly hid in -Toto's mouth. The dog skipped away, the outraged master was searched; -the bewildered owner apologized, and the officers were shocked at such a -needless charge. Francois talked about his offended honor, and as he -looked at twenty to be a strong man of full age, the affair was apt to -go no further. - -Half the cleverness and thought thus devoted to an ignoble pursuit would -have given him success in more honest ways. But for a long while no -angel chance tempted him, and it must be admitted that he enjoyed the -game he pursued, and was easily contented, not eagerly caring to find a -less precarious and less risky mode of life. - -Temperament is merely a permanent mood. Francois was like the month of -June in his dear Paris. There might be storms and changes, but his -mental weather had the pleasant insurance of what was in the order of -despotic nature. And yet to be owner of the continual sunshine of -cheerfulness has its drawbacks. It deprives a man of some of the -wholesome lures of life. It dulls the spurs which goad us to resolve. -It may make calamity too easy of endurance. To be too consistently -cheerful may be in itself a misfortune. It had for this vagrant all its -values and some of its defects. His simple, gay existence, and his flow -of effervescent merriment, kept him happy and thoughtless. Most persons -of this rare type like company; but Francois was an exception. He was -better pleased to be alone with his dog, and usually desired no other -society. As the poodle could not talk, his master was given to making -answer for him, and finding no one to his taste among the Crab's -villainous lodgers, kept to himself, and was satisfied. Nor did he ever -appear to have imagined what the larger world he knew not held of such -human society as would have comforted that sense of void in his heart -which he acknowledged at times, but had no way to fill. When fortune -played him some sorry trick, he laughed, and unconsciously quoted La -Rochefoucauld. "Toto, ah, my Toto, one can never be as cunning as -everybody." This was apropos of an incident which greatly amused him. - -He was in his favorite resort, the Palais Royal, one June morning, and -was at this time somewhat short of cash. The Crab had preached him a -sharp sermon on his lack of industry, and he had liked neither the -sermon nor the preacher. At this moment a young fellow in fine clothes -came by. Francois, producing, as usual, a gaudy snuff-box worth some -ten francs, politely asked of monsieur had he lost this box. Monsieur -took it in his hand. Yes, yes; he had just missed it, the gift of his -god-father, and was much obliged. He let it fall into his pocket, and -walked away. Francois looked after him. "Toto, _nous sommes voles_--we -are sold!" Then the fun of it, as usual, overcame him, and he wandered -away to the garden of the Luxembourg, and at last threw himself on a -bench, and laughed as a child laughs, being for moments quiet, and then -given over to uncontrolled mirth. Having feasted with honest comfort on -all the humorous aspects of the situation, his hand chanced to fall on a -little book left by some one on the seat. He had long ceased to read, -for no books fell in his way, nor could he often have afforded to buy -them even had he had a keen appetite for their contents. - -[Illustration: FRANCOIS AND TOTO IN THE LUXEMBOURG.] - -The little vellum-bound volume opened to his touch, as if used to be -generous of what it held. It was Latin, and verse. He knew, or had -known, more than most choir-boys needed of this tongue, and the talk of -the choir-house was, by stringent rule, in Latin. But this book was not -of a religious kind; it half puzzled his mind as he read. Unaccustomed -to profane Latin verse, and yet wholly pleased, he began to murmur aloud -the rhythmic measures: - - "Poseimus, si quid vacui sub umbra - Lusimus tecum, quod et hunc in annum - Vivat, et plures: age, dic Latinum, - Barbite, carmen. - - -"It hath a fine sound, _mon ami_; and who was this Quintus?" He went on -reading aloud the delicious rhythms for the joy of hearing their billowy -flow. Now and then he smiled as he caught the full meaning of a line. - -The keen-faced poodle sat on the bench beside him, with a caressing head -laid against his shoulder; the sun was sweet and warm, the roses were -many. The time suited the book, and the book the man. He read on, page -after page of the beautiful Aldine type, now and then pausing, vexed to -be so puzzled by these half-guessed beautiful riddles. - -"Toto, my dog, I would thou didst know Latin. This man he loved the -country, and good wine, and girls; and he had friends--friends, which -you and I have not." - -Then he was lost for an hour. At last he ceased to read, and sat with a -finger in the book, idly drifting on the immortal stream of golden song. - -"That must have been a merry companion, Toto. I did hear of him once in -the choir-house. He must be dead a mighty while ago. If a man is as -gay as that, it must be horrid to die." - -My poor thief was one of the myriad who through the long centuries had -come into kindly touch of the friend of Maecenas. For the first time in -his uncertain life he felt the charm of genius. - -Indulgent opportunity was for Francois always near to some fatal enmity -of chance. So does fate deal with the unlucky. He saw coming swiftly -toward him a tall, strongly built man of middle age. He was richly -dressed, and as he drew near he smiled. - -"Ah, monsieur," he said; "I came back in haste to reclaim my little -Horace. I missed it only when I got home. I am most fortunate." - -Francois rose. He returned the small volume, but did not speak. - -"Monsieur of course knows Horace," said the gentleman, looking him over, -a little curious and more than a little interested. Too sure of his own -position to shun any intercourse which promised amusement, he went on: -"No; not know Horace? Let us sit awhile. The sun is pleasant." - -Francois, rather shy, and suspicious of a manner of man he had never -before encountered, sat down, saying, "I was a choir-boy once. I know -some Latin, not much; but this sounded pleasant to the ear." - -"Yes; it is immortal music. A choir-boy, you said; and pardon me, but, -_mon Dieu_, I heard you laugh as I was searching for my book. You have -a fine gift that way, and there is little to laugh at nowadays in -France." - -"Monsieur will excuse me; I am so made that I laugh at everything and at -nothing. I believe I do laugh in my sleep. And just now I laughed -because--because--" - -"Well, why did you laugh?" - -Francois glanced at the questioner. Something authoritative in his ways -made it seem needful to answer, and what this or any man thought of him -he cared little--perhaps because in his world opinions went for nothing. -And still he hesitated a moment. - -"Well?" There was a note of strong surprise in the voice, as if the -owner felt it to be unusual that a query he put should not evoke instant -reply. - -"I laughed because I was cheated." - -"Charming, that! May I ask how? But perhaps--" - -"No," said Francois; "if it amuse monsieur, why should I care?" He -calmly related his adventure. - -The gentleman threw himself back on the seat in an ecstasy of amusement. -He was out of humor with the time and with his own world, and bored by -the incessant politics of the day; here was a pleasant diversion. - -"By St. Denis! my friend, you are like the great Chicot that was fool to -King Henry of merry memory." - -"And how, monsieur?" - -"How? He had a long face that laughed ever, long legs, and a shrewd way -of seeming more simple than he was." - -"Monsieur flatters me." - -"Ah, and a smart rogue, too. I may conclude your profession to be that -of relieving the rich of their too excessive luxuries." - -Francois was enchanted with this ingenious and unprejudiced companion, -who had, like himself, a sense of the laughable aspects of life. - -"Monsieur has hit it," he said gaily; "I am a thief." - -No one had taught him to be ashamed of anything but failure in his -illegal enterprises. - -"_Tiens_! That is droll;--not that you are a thief: I have known many -in my own world. They steal a variety of things, each after his taste -in theft--the money of the poor, the character of a man, a woman's -honor." - -"I scarcely comprehend," said Francois, who was puzzled. - -"They lack your honesty of confession. Could you be altogether honest -if a man trusted you?" - -"I do not know. No man ever trusted me, and one must live, monsieur." - -The gentleman hesitated, and relapsed into the indifference of a too -easy life. He had been on the point of offering this outcast a chance. - -"_Enfin_, no doubt you are right. I wish you every success. The deuce! -Have you my snuff-box and my handkerchief?" - -"Both," said Francois. - -"Then don't run away. I could never catch you. Long legs must be of use -in your profession. The snuff-box I will ransom. Let us say fifty -francs. It is worth more, but it bears my name, and there are risks." - -"Certainly," said Francois. "And the handkerchief. Monsieur is -_enrhume_--has a cold; I could not deprive monsieur." - -The gentleman thanked him, paid over the money for the box, and, greatly -pleased, rose, saying: "You are a dangerous acquaintance; but I trust we -may meet again. _Au revoir!_" - -Francois remained on the bench, Toto at his feet in the sun. This -meeting affected him strangely. It had been the first touch of a world -remote from his own. He did not recognize the fact that he had gifts -which enable men to rise in life. At times he had had vague ambitions, -but he was at the foot of a ladder, and the rungs above were broken or -not to be seen. These moods were brief, and as to their cause not always -clear to him. He was by nature social, and able to like or to love; but -the people of the Cite were dreadful, and if now and then some broken -refugee from a higher class delighted him for a time, the eventful hand -of justice or what not was apt to separate them. - -As he looked after the gentleman he felt his charm and the courtesy of -his ways as something to be desired. His own form of attractiveness, -the influence of joyous laughter and frank approach, he had often and -usefully tested; and perhaps this sense of his own power to please made -him intelligently apprehensive of what he had just experienced. Had he -seized eagerly the half-offered help the gentleman suggested rather than -offered, he had been wiser; but it was literally true that, being when -possible honest as to speech, he had obeyed the moment's impulse. A -better man than the gentleman would have gone further. He had lazily -reflected, and concluded that to help this poor devil might be -troublesome, and thus the jewel opportunity lay lost at their feet. -They were to meet again, and then it was to be the thief's turn. - -Now he sat in thought, kicking the ground with his boot. Out of the -past came remembrances of the asylum, and how he had been told to be -good, and not to kill or to steal, or to do certain other naughty things -less clear to him then than now. But this was a far-away time. At the -choir-house were the same moral lessons, but they who taught were they -who sinned. Since then no one had said a word of reproach to the waif; -nor had this great gentleman, and yet he had left him in the rare mood -of thought-filled depression. - -"Wake up, Toto," he cried; "thou art become too fat. _En avant aux -champs!_" And, followed by the poodle, he went away up the Seine, and -was gone so long that Quatre Pattes began to think he had taken to -honest courses and would return no more. - -He came back in a fortnight, the better for certain prosperous ventures. -And thus the days ran on. If fortune were against him, and even diet -hard to get, Toto went with the Crab to some distant market after dusk, -and, while she bargained, knew to steal a cutlet, and to run away with -his prize, and make for home or the next dark lane. But these devices -failed at times, and thus Francois's life consisted of a series of ups -and downs. When lucky he bought good clothes, for which he had a -liking; when unlucky he pawned them, and went back to garments no one -would take in pledge. - -It was in the year 1788 that this adventure occurred. He was, as far as -was to be guessed, fully twenty-one years of age. His life of -adventure, of occasional hardships, and of incessant watchfulness had -already given him the appearance of being a far older person. - -Always an odd-looking lad, as he grew to maturity his great length of -limb, his long face, and ears of unnatural bigness, gave him such -singularity of aspect as made disguises impossible. - -The poodle was an added danger, and for this reason, when in pursuit of -prey, Francois was forced to leave the dog with Mother Crab. Thus time -ran on with such perils as attend the life he led, but with better -fortune than could have been expected. As to these later years up to -1790, Francois, in his memoirs, says little. Once--indeed, twice--he -left the Crab's house, only to be driven back by stress of circumstance. -After 1790 his account is more complete, and here it is that we take up -again the fuller story of his life. - -The turmoil of vast governmental and social changes was disturbing all -ranks of life. If the Revolution was nursed in the salons, as some say, -it was born in the furrows of the tax-tormented peasant, and in the -seething caldron of the Cite and the quarters of the starving poor. - -Francois, who cared little what ruler was on top, or who paid taxes, was -aware of the uneasy stir in his own neighborhood. Men were more savage. -Murder and all violent crimes were more common. That hungry beast, the -mob, began to show its fangs, soon to be red with blood. The clubs of -all opinions were busy. The church was toppling to ruin, its centuries -of greedy gain at an end. Political lines were sharply drawn. The -white cockade and the tricolor were the badges of hostile ranks, still -more distinctly marked by costume. The cafes were divided: some were -Royalist, some Jacobin or neutral. Too many who were of the noble class -were flying, or, if more courageous or less forethoughtful, were -gathering into bitterly opponent camps. So much of that lower Paris as -felt, yearned, hated, and was hungry, glad of any change, was pleased -amid tumult to find its chance to plunder and to kill. - -The fall of the Bastille in the preceding year had not seemed important -to Francois. He had interested himself in the purses of the vast crowd -which looked on and was too much taken up with the event to guard the -contents of its pockets. The violence which came after was not to -Francois's taste; but these street crowds were admirable for business -until money became scarce, and the snuff-box and the lace handkerchief -disappeared with armorial bearings, and with the decree of the people -that great dames must no more go in fine carriages. - - - - - *VII* - -_Wherein is told how Francois saved a man's neck and learned to juggle._ - - -In the early spring of this year Francois found himself, one day, in a -crowd near to the Porte St. Denis. He stood high on his long legs, -looking on, while men on ladders broke up the royal escutcheon on the -stone archway. It amused him a little to see how furious they were, and -how crazy were the foolish _poissardes_: these fishwomen, who had so -many privileges under the monarchy, at every blow of the hammer yelled -with delight; and behold, here was the Crab, Quatre Pattes, far away -from her quarter, hoarse with screaming, a horrible edition of woman as -she stood under the arch, careless of the falling fragments. On the -edge of the more prudent crowd, an old man was guilty of some rash -protest in the way of speech. Francois heard the cry, "_A bas -l'aristocrate! a la lanterne!_" and saw the Crab leap on the man like -some fierce insect, horribly agile, a thin gray tress down her back. -Swift and terrible it was. In a moment he swung writhing from the chain -of the street-lantern, fighting with vain hands to loosen the rope. A -red-haired woman leaped up and caught his leg. There was laughter. The -man above her hung limp. Francois did not laugh. He tried to get out -of the crowd, away from this quivering horror. To do so was not easy. -The crowd was noisy and turbulent, swaying to and fro, intent on -mischief. As he moved he saw a small, stout man take, with some lack of -skill, a purse from the side-pouch of a huge fishwoman. Francois, being -close to the thief, saw him seized by the woman he had robbed. In the -press, which was great, Francois slipped a hand into the thief's pocket, -and took out the purse. Meanwhile there were again wild cries of "To -the lantern!" "Up with him!" the woman lamenting her loss, and -denouncing the man who had stolen. His life was like to be brief. -Surrounded by these she-devils, he stood, white, shaking, and swearing -he was innocent. The man's anguish of fear moved Francois. "_Dame!_" he -cried, "search the man before you hang him! I say, search him!" While -one of them began to act on his hint, Francois let the purse fall into -the pocket of the original owner--an easy feat for a practised hand. -"The man has it not. Look again in thy pouch, maman," he cried. "The -man has it not; that is plain." When the dame of the market found her -purse, she turned on Francois, amid the laughter of her friends. "Thou -art a confederate. Thou didst put it back thyself." Indeed, things were -like to go ill. The crowd was of a mind to hang some one. A dozen -hands fell on him, while the man he had aided slipped away quietly. -Francois shook off the women, and with foot and fist cleared a space, -for he was of great strength of body. He would have earned but a short -reprieve had he not seen the Crab. He called to her: "_A moi_! Quatre -Pattes!" The ring of red-faced furies fell back for a moment before the -rage and power of a man defending his life. Half dismayed, but furious, -they shouted: "Hang him! rail him!" and called to the men to help them. -Again Francois was hustled and struck as the crowd closed in on him. He -struggled, and called to Toto, whom nothing so disturbed as to see a -rude touch laid on his master. In an instant the dog was busy with the -stout calves about him, biting, letting go, and biting again. The -diversion was valuable, but brief; and soon Toto, who was not -over-valiant, fled to his master, the crowd yelling: "Kill him! Hang -him and the beast!" Once more Francois exerted his exceptional -strength, crying, "Not while I live!" and catching up the dog under his -arm. Then he heard the shrill voice of the Crab. "_A moi!_" he shouted, -and struck right and left as Quatre Pattes, with her sticks, squirmed in -under the great arms of the fishwomen. - -"_A moi!_" she cried, "Francois!" With her sticks, and tongue of the -vilest, she cleared a space as the venomous creatures fell back from one -more hideous than themselves. - -Meanwhile the accusing dame shook her purse at the Crab, crying, "He put -it back; I felt him do it." But the rest laughed, and the Crab faced -her with so fierce a look that she shrank away. - -"Off with thee!" said the Crab to Francois; "thou wert near to the -lantern." - -"'T is a Jacobin of the best," she cried to the mob; "a friend of mine. -You will get into trouble--you cursed fools!" - -The crowd cheered her, and Francois, seizing the chance, cried, -laughing, "Adieu, mesdames," and in a moment was out of the crowd and -away. He turned as many corners as possible, and soon, feeling it safe -to move more slowly, set down the dog and readjusted his dress. - -A minute later he saw beside him the man he had saved. "Do not speak to -me here," he said; "follow me at a distance." The man, still white and -shaking, obeyed him. At the next turn, as Francois paused in doubt -which way to go, he met Quatre Pattes. - -"The devil nearly got thee, my little boy," she said; "but a smart thief -is worth some trouble to save. Pay me for thy long neck, and quick, -too." She was full _eau-de-vie_, and, as usual then, savage and -reckless. - -"More!" she cried--"more!" as he gave her a franc. "More, more! -Ungrateful beast, thou art good to feed me, and for little else. More, -more! I say, or I will call them after thee, and this time I shall have -a good pull at the rope. More, more!" and she struck him with her -stick. "_Sacre_, waif of hell! More! more!" she screamed. "And that -fellow who helped thee! I have seen him; I know him." - -Francois turned without a word, and ran as fast as his long legs would -carry him. Two blocks away he was overtaken by the other thief. They -pushed on in silence. - -At last Francois, getting back his somewhat scattered wits, said: "We -can talk now." - -"Ah, I understand," said the other; "thou didst steal her purse from me, -and put it back in her pouch." - -"Yes; I took it just as they caught thee; then I let it fall into her -pouch." - -"I thank thee, monsieur. _Dieu_! I am all in a sweat. We are of a -trade, I perceive. Why didst thou help me?" - -"To keep it was a risk. My turn might have come next. I pitied thee, -too." - -"I shall never forget it--never." - -Francois laughed. The fat man looked up at him. "_Dame!_ but thou hast -a queer face, and ears like wings. 'T is a fortune. Let us have a -little wine and talk. I have a good idea." - -"Presently," said Francois; "I like not the neighborhood." - -Soon they found a _guinguette_, or low liquor-shop, in the Rue Neuve des -Petits Champs, and, feeling at last secure, had a long talk over a -bottle of wine. - -Francois learned that his new acquaintance was named Pierre Despard, and -that he had, for the most part of his means of living, given up the -business of relieving the rich of their purses. He explained that he -did well as a conjurer, and had a booth near the Pont Neuf. He made -clear to Francois that with his quick fingers, and a face which none -could see and not laugh, he would be a desirable partner. - -"Thou must learn to move those huge ears." Would he be his assistant? -When times were bad they might profit by tempting chances in their old -line of life. - -Francois was just now as near to penitence as his nature permitted him -to be, and his recent peril disposed him to listen. The more he -reflected as Despard talked, the more he liked it. He ended by saying, -"Yes"; and before the Crab had reached home he had taken away his -slender store of garments, and, with Toto at his heels, found his way to -the room of his new friend, in a little street which ran into the Rue -Basse du Rempart, not far from the Madeleine. Thus began a mode of life -which he found fresh and full of satisfaction. - -The pair so strangely brought together took a room in the fifth story, -and, with Toto, set up domestic life on a modest scale. It was much to -Francois's contentment. He had what I may call a side taste for the -respectable, and this new business seemed to him a decided rise in life. -It was varied enough to amuse him; nor was it so conventionally -commercial as to lack such adventure and incident as this wild young -reprobate of the Cite had learned to like. The new business soon gave -the partners more than enough to live upon. After their lodging and -diet were provided for, Pierre Despard took two thirds of what was left, -and put it away in a stocking, at first with some doubt as to his -comrade, but soon with the trust which Francois was apt to inspire. -From early morn until noon, Pierre taught Francois to do tricks with -cards, to juggle with balls, and to tell fortunes by the lines of the -hand. Toto was educated to carry a basket and collect sous, to stand on -his head with a pipe in his mouth, and to pick out a card at a signal. -The rest of the day was spent in the booth, where they rarely failed to -be well paid. At evening there was a quiet cafe and dominoes, and a -modest _petit verre_ of brandy. Meanwhile the peasants burned chateaux, -and Protestant and Catholic hanged one another in the pleasant South. - -[Illustration: "PIERRE TAUGHT FRANCOIS TO JUGGLE WITH BALLS."] - -Now and then the Paris mob enjoyed a like luxury, and amid unceasing -disorder the past was swept on to the dust-heaps of history. - -The little audience of children and nurses in front of the booth was as -yet nowise concerned as to these vast changes; nor was Toto disturbed -when it was thought prudent to robe him with a three-colored ribbon. The -politics of the masters of the show varied as their audiences changed -from the children of the rich at noon to the Jacobin workmen at the -coming of dusk. Francois personally preferred splendor and the finery of -the great. He was by nature a Royalist. Pierre was silent or -depressed, and said little as to his opinions. But both had the -prudence of men always too near to poverty to take risks of loss for the -sake of political sentiments in which they had no immediate interest. - -Despard was a somber little man, and nimble, as some fat men are. He -was as red-cheeked as a Norman apple, and, at this time, of unchanging -gravity of face and conduct. Not even Francois's gaiety could tempt him -to relate his history; and although at times a great talker, he became -so terrified when frankly questioned as to his past, that Francois -ceased to urge him. That any one should desire to conceal anything was -to Francois amazing. He was himself a valuable possession to his morose -partner. - -"I do not laugh," said Pierre; "nay, not even as a matter of business. -Thou shalt laugh for two. Some day we will go to see the little girl -who is at Sevres, in a school of nuns. 'T is there the money goes." - -This was a sudden revelation to Francois. Here was a human being, like -himself a thief, who was sacrificing something for another. The -isolation of his own life came before him with a sense of shock. He said -he should be glad to see the child, and when should they go? - - - - - *VIII* - -_In which Francois discovers the mercantile value of laughter, and the -Crab takes toll of the jugglers--with the sad history of Despard, the -partner._ - - -Late in the evenings, in the room they shared, the practice of the early -morning was resumed, and, above all, Pierre was overjoyed to see what -tricks of feature were within Francois's control. He had, in fact, some -of the art of the actor, and was the master of such surprises of -expression as were irresistibly comic. By and by the fame of his -wonderful visage spread, and very often the young nobles, with their -white cockades, came to see, or great ladies would pause to have their -palms read. When palmistry was to be used, the booth was closed with -black curtains, between which was seen only this long face, with the -flaring ears and laughing eyes. Presently a huge hand came out below, -the rest of the figure remaining unseen. Then, in the quaintest -language, Francois related wonderful things yet to be, his large mouth -opening so as to divide the merry face as with a gulf. - -It was a time eager for the new, and this astonishing mask had a huge -success. The booth grew rich, and raised its prices, so that soon these -two pirates of the Cite sat in wonder over their gains, and Pierre began -to store up a few louis for a bad day, and for the future of the little -maid at Sevres, where two or three of the Sisters of the Sacred Heart -had found a new home, and taken again the charge of some of their -scattered flock. - -Francois was fast learning the art of the conjurer; but at times, sad to -say, he yearned for a chance to apply his newly acquired dexterity in -ways which were more perilous. He liked change, and had the pleasure in -risk which is common to daring men. Indeed, he was at times so restless -as to require the urgent counsels of Pierre to keep him tranquil. Once -or twice he must needs insist on a holiday, and went away with Toto for -two days. They came back dirty and happy, but to Pierre's relief. This -uneasy partner was now essential, and more and more Jacobin and Royalist -crowded about the booth to get a laugh out of the sight of the face -which, appearing through the curtain with hair brushed up and long brown -beard combed down, suddenly grew as broad as it had been long. The -laugh into which it broke was so cheery, so catching, so causeless, that -all who saw fell into fits of merriment such as were not common in those -days of danger and anxiety. - -Then the partner appeared in front of the booth. So many wished the man -who laughed to read their palms that Pierre declared it must be for the -highest bidder. A gay auction took place; and the winner heard his fate -slyly whispered by the voice of many tones, or it might be that it was -loudly read for the benefit of the crowd, and, amid cries and jeers, the -victim retired with promise of a wife with a negative dowry in some -unexistent section of Paris. Or, again, it was an elderly dame who -consulted the voice of fate. She was to have three husbands, and die -young. Then another broad hand came forth, and on it the black poodle -upright, with a handkerchief to his eyes, and his tail adorned with -crape. It was witty, innocent, and amusing, and delighted this Paris, -which was becoming suspicious, cruel, and grimly devilish. - -Very soon the business in which laughter was sold for what it would -bring in laughter, and for what men were willing to pay for an honest -grin, began to have incidents which more than satisfied Francois's taste -for adventure and greatly troubled Pierre. The little room of the two -conjurers had flowers in the window, and a caged bird. These were -Francois's luxuries. Pierre did not care for them. He had begun to read -books about the rights of man, and bits of "The Friend of the People," -by Marat. When Francois first knew him he liked to gossip gravely of -what went on, as to the changing fashions, or as to the new "baptism" of -the streets, but of the serious aspect of the tumbling monarchy was not -inclined to speak. At times, too, he let it be seen that he was well -educated; but beyond this, Francois still learned nothing of his past. -One evening Francois, gaily whistling, and with Toto after him, turned -the knob of their chamber door. There was some resistance. He called, -"Pierre!" and the door yielded. He went in. Two candles were burning on -their little dining-table. Facing him, in a chair, sat the Crab, Quatre -Pattes, the spine bent forward, the head tilted up to get sight of -Pierre, who was leaning against the wall back of the door. Her eyes, a -dusky red, were wide open to enlarge the view which the bend of her back -limited. The beak between them was purple. Her mouth, grim and -lipless, was set in deep, radiating wrinkles, and the toothless gums -were moving as if she were chewing. Her two wrists rested on the curved -handles of her short canes, and her outstretched hands, lean, eager, and -deformed, were moving like the claws of some ravenous creature of the -jungle. - -Francois looked from her to his partner, Despard. He was standing as if -flattened, his eyes upon the woman, his palms, outspread, set hard on -the wall behind him, a pitiful image of alarm and hatred. - -"_Mon Dieu!_" cried Francois, "what is all this? What does this -she-devil want?" - -"Want! I want money, vagabond thief! I saw thee in the booth -yesterday. We are honest, are we? And I know him, too. Him!" and she -pointed at Pierre, who murmured: - -"Kill her! Take her away!" - -Francois laughed. "Out of this, hag!" and he laughed again. - -"I know that man," she cried. "_Sacre_, but he is scared, the coward! -I remind him of old times. He must pay--pay, or I will fetch the -police. He knows me. Out with the money! Empty your pockets!" - -Francois shouted: "What, Mother Puzzlebones, dost thou think to scare an -old dog of the Cite? Art fit to be mother-in-law of Satan. Out with -thee! Out of this, I say! Here is to buy flesh to cover thy rattlebone -carcass." He threw two francs before her. - -The Crab stood up, and beat with her sticks on the table. "No francs! -It is gold I will have--red louis, or I will set the police on thee, and -on the fat fool yonder. I will find that girl of his. She must be fit -to sell by this time. A beauty was her mother." - -"Kill her! Kill her!" said Pierre, wrath in his words, fear in their -tremor. Of a sudden he seized a stool, and, mad with some memory of -wrong, leaped forward. The Crab faced him with courage, as Francois -tore away the stool, and pushed him back. "No murder here. Keep quiet, -idiot! And as to thee, thou gutter Crab, out of this!" - -Upon this, Toto set up a dismal howl, and made at the old woman. A -rousing whack from her stick sent him howling under the bed, where he -sat pensive. Then she turned on Francois. - -"Look here," she said; "thou hast some sense. That ass has none. Let us -talk. Thou canst give me money or let it alone. You both know me. A -word to the police, and up goes the little show." - -"Very likely." - -"Then make a bargain. Pay me, and I hold my tongue. No use to call me -names." - -"Well, let us have peace, and talk," said Francois. This threat of the -Crab as to the officers of the law might not be vain; she was quite too -well informed; and there was Pierre, white and furious. Francois -foresaw tragedy; comedy was more to his taste. - -"What wilt thou have, Quatre Pattes? We are poor. Why threaten thy old -lodger?" He was eager to get her away, in order to understand matters. -Too much was dark. Pierre said no more, but stood staring, angry and -yet afraid. - -"A louis a week," cried the Crab. - -"Nonsense! These good geese would soon die of starvation, and then no -more golden eggs. Here are ten francs. Each week thou shalt have -five." - -"_Nom de Dieu!_" groaned Pierre; "and to kill her were so easy!" - -"Not for thee, coward!" shouted the Crab, knocking her sticks together -for emphasis. - -"Kill her!" said Pierre, faintly. - -"Nonsense!" said Francois. "Come to the booth for it, Crab; not here, -mind you, not here--not a sou here." - -"Adieu, my jolly bankers," cried the hag. "For the day this will do; -then we shall see." With this, the sticks rattled on the tiled floor, -and she pattered out of the door, which Francois shut after her. - -"Behold us, netted like larks!" he said, and broke into a laugh. - -"It is not a thing to laugh at," said Pierre, the sweat rolling down his -face. - -"No; perhaps not. Let us take counsel. But what troubled thee? Shall -a crippled old woman ruin two strong men?" - -Pierre groaned, and let his face fall on his palms, making no reply. - -"What is it, my friend?" - -"I cannot tell thee now. It were useless; it would not help. God has -made the little one safe--safe. One of these days I may have the courage -to tell thee." - -His natural reticence and some too dreadful past combined to keep him -silent. Francois was puzzled. He knew the man to be a coward; but his -timidity, followed by this sudden outbreak of murderous fury, was -inexplicable; nor did he comprehend it fully until later events revealed -to him, as he looked back at this scene, the nature of the morbid -changes which his partner's character had already begun to feel. "What -does it all mean?" he demanded. - -"Ask me no more," said Despard. "Not now--not now. She cannot hurt me -or mine. It is hate, not fear, I have. But thou? Why didst thou pay?" - -"For good enough reasons," said Francois; "but I can take care of -myself." He was by no means sure of this. Nevertheless, he laughed as -usual, and said: "Let us have supper; I cannot think when I am empty." - -No more was said. They ate in silence, and then Pierre turned to his -"L'Ami du Peuple," and Francois to a pipe and to his thoughts. Must he -give up the booth, and wander? He knew the Crab well enough to fear -her. The price of her silence would rise, and to deny her would bring -about disaster. He began to wish he had been honest. It was too late -now; but France was large, and, after all, he could laugh at his own -embarrassment. There was time to think; he had bought that. - -They spoke no further of the Crab; but from this time Pierre became -depressed and suspicious at every knock on the door. Quatre Pattes came -to the booth with her usual eagerness, and if she chanced to be full of -bad brandy, and too noisy and unappeasable, Francois paid her something -out of his own share of their growing profits. Had he been alone, he -might have done otherwise; but Pierre was timid, watchful, and talked -sadly of the little one at Sevres. How should he manage if the show -came to an end? It had not been worth much until Francois joined him. -Before that he had been starving himself to keep the child in careful -hands. He became increasingly melancholy, and this especially in the -early mornings. He was apt to say at night, "A day is gone, and nothing -has happened." - -Francois was courageous, and mocked a little at the jade Fortune. "What -could happen?" And yet this shrinking little man, fat, doleful, and -full of fears, sat heavily upon him; and there, too, was this child whom -he had never seen. _Peste_! The children he had known at the asylum -were senseless, greedy little cattle, all of one make. Perhaps this -girl at Sevres was no better. - - - - - *IX* - -_In which Francois tells the fortune of the Marquis de Ste. Luce and of -Robespierre, and has his own fortune told, and of how Despard saw a man -of whom he was afraid._ - - -Francois was soon to be further amazed by Pierre Despard. To the last -of his life, Francois remembered that day. A cool October had stripped -the king's chestnut-trees of their glory as clean as the king himself -was soon to be shorn. The leaves were rustling at evening across the -Place Louis XV, and covering the water of the canals. Here, of late, -the tent-booth had been set up for the benefit of the better society, -which still wore the white cockade of the Bourbons. A merry group of -the actors of the Comedie was waiting to see Francois, the maker of -faces. There were Chenard of the Opera Comique; Fleury and Saint-Prix, -whose gaiety no prison in after days could lessen, and no fear of death -abate. "Behold, there is the great Talma," said Pierre, peeping out; -"and the aristos are many to-day. Art ready, Francois?" - -Francois was delighted. The great Talma here, and actually to see -him--Francois! He had of late been acquiring stage ambitions, and -taking great pains to improve the natural advantages of a face quite -matchless in Paris. - -Despard peeped in again. "Yes, Francois; they talk of thee, and there -are many in the crowd. They gather to see Talma. There are Jacobins, -and thy friends the aristocrats. Make thou haste. Art ready?" - -"Yes, yes," said Francois. He felt it to be a great, an unusual -occasion. He had a bright idea. He struck with a stick three times on -the floor of the booth, the traditional signal at the Theatre Francais -for the curtain to rise. A roar of applause outside rewarded his shrewd -sense of what was due to this audience. - -"_Tiens_! That is good," said La Rive. - -The slit in the curtain opened, and, framed in the black drapery, -appeared a face which seemed to have come out of the canvas of Holbein. -It was solemn, and yet grotesque, strong of feature, the face, beard, -and hair white with powder; the eyes were shut. - -"_Mon Dieu_," said Talma, "what a mask! 'T is stern as fate." The -crowd stayed motionless and silent. - -"Look! look!" said Fleury. "'T is a study. To smile with closed eyes! -Didst thou ever see a man smile in sleep, Talma?" - -It was pretty and odd. Little curves of mirthful change crawled -downward from the eyes over the large, grave features; the ears moved; -the eyes opened; and a storm of liberal laughter broke up the quiet -lines of cheek and mouth. - -"Bravo! bravo!" cried Talma and the other actors, while the crowd burst -into a roar of applause and responsive mirth. - -"Angels of fun!" cried Saint-Prix, "what a face! 'T is a gargoyle come -down from the roof of St. Jacques de la Boucherie. Does it go back of -nights? I wonder what next will he do?" - -[Illustration: "''T IS A GARGOYLE COME DOWN FROM THE ROOF OF ST. -JACQUES.'"] - -"_Tiens_! Wait," said La Rive. - -The white face seen above in the slit of the black curtain became -suddenly serious, with moveless eyes looking past the audience as if -into futurity. Below appeared two large hands, scrupulously clean, -while the man's figure remained hidden. There was something impressive -in this artful pose. - -"Fortunes, fortunes, _messieurs et dames_!" cried Pierre. "Who will -have his hand read? _Avancez_--come!" - -A shrill voice on the outskirts of the crowd cried, "Read Louis -Capet's!" The white cockades turned to look. "It were easy to read," -said a tall Jacobin. A gentleman in the black garments of the -unprogressive noblesse turned: "Your card, citizen, or monsieur, as you -like." The crowd was scarcely stirred by this politely managed -difference. It was the year of duels. - -Two lads pushed forward their tutor, an abbe, as was plain to see, -although few clerics still ventured to wear their old costume. He -laughed awkwardly, and timidly laid a fat, well-fed hand on that of -Francois's. The grave face of the reader of palms fell forward to see -the fateful lines. For a moment Francois was silent; then the voice -which came from his stolid visage was monotonously solemn, and the words -dropped from it one by one, as if they were the mechanical product of -some machine without interest in the results of its own action. One -long, lean forefinger traversed the abbe's palm, and paused. "An easy -life thou hast had. A woman has troubled it." The two pupils were -delighted; the crowd laughed. "The line of life is -broken--broken"--Francois's hands went through the pantomime of the -snapping of a thread--"like that." The abbe drew back, and could not be -persuaded to hear further. Again there was a pause. A grisette advanced -smiling, and was sent away charmed with the gifts a pleasant future held -in store. Pierre exhorted for a time in vain. Presently the crowd made -way. A slight man in breeches and silk stockings came forward; he was -otherwise dressed in the extreme of the fashion still favored by the -court party, but wore no cockade, and carried two watches, the heavy -seals of which Francois greatly desired to appropriate. His uneasy eyes -were covered with spectacles, and around them his sallow complexion -deepened to a dusky, dull green. Altogether this was a singular and not -a pleasant face, or so, at least, thought the palm-reader, a part of -whose cunning was to study the expressions of those who asked his skill. -The man who laid his hand on Francois's looked up at the motionless -visage of the ex-thief. Francois said: "Is it for the citizen alone to -hear, or for all?" - -"For me--for me." - -Francois's voice fell to a low whisper. - -"Let the past go," said the listener; "what of the future?" - -"It is dark. The lines are many. They are--citizen, thou wilt be a -ruler, powerful, dreaded. Thou wilt have admiration, fame, and at last -the hatred of man." - -"I--I--what nonsense! Then?"--and he waited,--"then? What then? What -comes after!"' - -"I will tell thee"; and Francois whispered. - -"No more--no more; enough of such foolishness!" He was clearly enough -disturbed by what he had heard. "Thou must think men fools." - -"Fate is always a fool, citizen; but the fools all win, soon or late." - -"That, at least, is true, Master Palmister." Then a pair of sinister -eyes, set deep behind spectacles, sought those of Francois. "Thou hast -a strange face, Master Palm-reader. Dost thou believe what thou dost -make believe to read on men's palms?" - -"Sometimes." - -"Now--now?--this time?" - -"Yes; I believe." - -"I shall not forget thee." - -Francois felt something like a chill between his shoulders. The Jacobin -stepped aside after depositing an ample fee in the basket which Toto -presented. - -There was a murmur in the crowd. Several persons looked with curious -eyes after the retreating man, and the conjurer heard some one say: -"_Tiens! C'est drole_. It is Robespierre." His was at this time not -more than a well-known name. For a minute no one else came forward. -Francois saw Pierre slip hastily into the tent; he knew not why. A -gentleman came up gaily. He was dressed splendidly, with no regard for -the leveling tastes of the day. - -"The deuce!" he said quickly; "you are my thief!" - -"_De grace_, monsieur!" exclaimed Francois; "you will get me into -trouble." - -"Not I. Happy to meet you. I am myself fond of palmistry. Come, read -me my hand." - -Francois bent over the palm. He began aloud: "Ah, here have been many -loves." Then his voice fell. "Monsieur is a good swordsman." - -"So-so," said the gentleman. - -"Monsieur has been unfortunate in his duels." - -"_Mon Dieu_! Yes; I always kill people." - -"Monsieur has one remorse." - -"_Sapristi_! Thou art clever, and I lucky to have but one. Go on; 't -is vastly amusing. Shall I live to be old? My people do." - -"Monsieur will have troubles, but he will live to be old--very old." - -"Will he, indeed? I hardly like that. If I were you, I would tell more -agreeable fortunes. To outlive the joys of life, to be left a stranded -wreck, while the world goes by gay and busy--pshaw! I like not that. -You do it well. Let me read your own palm. I have a taste for this -art." - -Francois was at once interested. The gentleman's strong left hand took -that of the thief, and with a wandering forefinger he ran over the lines -of the palm. He let it fall, and looked downward at his own hand. "It -is strange that we shall meet again, and in an hour of danger. You will -be fortunate, and I shall not. You will have--" - -"_Tenez_, monsieur--stop!" cried Francois; "I will hear no more"; and he -drew his hands within the tent-folds. - -"_Dame_! and you are really a believer in it all, my good thief? Belief -is out of fashion. I hope you did tell that cursed Jacobin he would go -to a place he doesn't believe in, but which is a little like France -to-day. Come and see me if ever you are in trouble and this trade comes -to an end. I like men who can laugh. 'T is a pretty talent, and rather -gone out just now. I am the Marquis de Ste. Luce--or was. Come and -laugh for me, and tell me your story." He let fall a gold louis in -Toto's basket, and elbowed his way through the crowd, with "Pardon, -monsieur," to white cockades, and scant courtesy to the Jacobins and the -_demi-constitutionnels_, who were readily known by their costumes. - -As the marquis ceased to speak, Francois heard a singular noise in the -tent back of him. He withdrew his head to see the cause, and a moment -later, reappearing, said he must be excused, because his friend was ill. -The crowd broke up. Within the tent lay Pierre on the ground, in a fit. -Francois, greatly alarmed and utterly at a loss, threw water in his -face, and waited. In a few moments it was over, and the man, flushed -and breathing deeply, lay with red froth on his lips, as if in a deep -sleep. He was no longer convulsed; but what further to do the partner -knew not, and sat beside him, not more competent to deal with this novel -situation than was Toto, who walked about, and scratched his nose, and -gave it up. An hour went by with Pierre's head resting on Francois's -lap. - -At last Despard opened his eyes. "Take him away," he said. The man was -delirious. - -"Who?" - -"Take him away. Will he kill me? He killed her." A half-hour he -wandered in mind, while Francois bathed his flushed face. Then he drew -a deep breath, and said: "What is this? Where am I?" - -Francois replied: "Thou hast had a fit." - -"A fit? Yes; I have them--not often. I remember now. Has he gone, -that devil?--that marquis?" - -"Who? Ste. Luce? Was it he that troubled thee?" - -"Yes; he." - -"But what then?" - -By and by Pierre sat up. Seeing him to be quite himself, but staring -about as if in fear, Francois said: - -"Come, now; I must have the whole story. What the mischief has this -fine gentleman done to thee? I am out of patience with thy tiresome -mysteries. I know him; we have met before. Perhaps I can help thee." - -"Thou?" - -Pierre lay back on the floor, and covered his face. - -"_Mon Dieu!_" he cried, "why wilt thou force me to talk of it? Oh, to -hate, and to be afraid!" He started up. "I am afraid." - -"If I hated a man," said Francois, "_sacre bleu_! I would twist his -neck." - -"If I could! if I could! I am not like thee. I am--am a coward. -That's the truth." - -"_Dame!_ that is curious." He regarded the fat little man with -attentive eyes. "Suppose we have it all out, and get done with it." - -"Done with it?" - -"Yes; done with it! Hast thou often had these fits before?" - -"Yes; and then I am better for a while." - -"Tell me all about this man. I will take care of thee." - -"No; God did not: thou canst not." - -"Then we must separate. I am tired of thy nonsense, and I do not care a -rap how soon this business ends, what with your cursed melancholy and -that jade Quatre Pattes. Now, out with it!" - -Pierre, seated on the floor of the booth, red-eyed and dejected, looked -up piteously at his questioner. "If I tell thee all, thou wilt despise -me." - -"Not I. Go on! If thou canst speak out like a man, I may be able to -help thee; but if thou art of a mind to hold thy tongue, it were better -we parted. I am tired of thy folly." - -Thus urged, Pierre told his story, reluctant, with bowed head, and at -times in tears. Francois sat over him on a stool, now and then asking a -question, or waiting patiently when Pierre, choked by overmastering -emotions, was silent for a while. - -"I have been unhappy and unlucky from the time I can first remember," -said Pierre. "My people belonged to the lesser noblesse, but my father -was poor--oh, very poor. We had been ruined folks away there in -Normandy for half a century, only a bit of farm and vineyard left to us. -My mother was of the bourgeoisie, foolish and pretty. She died young, -and I was left the only child. My father treated me ill. I had no -courage, he said. It was true. As I grew up, I was timid like a girl, -and fearful of quarrels. When I was about twenty years old I had a -trouble with a brother of this marquis. He struck me with his whip -because of something I said. My father learned that I had excused -myself, and was wild with rage. It was my bourgeois mother, he said; we -had lost all but honor, and now that too was gone. He died not long -after, and I, with a few hundred francs, was driven out to care for -myself. The marquis had a mortgage on the farm. I went to a village -near by, and lived awhile as I could until I was down to my lust sou. I -worked like a peasant in the fields; I was the servant at an inn. At -last a mountebank company attracted me, and in despair I went with them -to take care of the horses which served them in their performances. By -and by I learned sleight of hand, and fared better. At last I married a -girl who danced in our company. She was pretty,--oh, more than -pretty,--and clever, too. When we came again to our town, a notary -offered me a petty clerk's place, and I was well contented to settle -down. My wife was too eager for the society of the bourgeoisie, and -they would have none of that of the dancing-girl. Then, unhappily, this -marquis saw my wife, and how I know not, but his fine clothes and -cunning were too much for one who was eager for a society she could not -have. I was busy, and often absent collecting small debts. No one -warned me. I was satisfied, and even put by a little money. - -"There was a woman in the village, Mme. Quintette, a dressmaker, a -shameless creature of bad life. She might have been then some fifty -years old. 'T is now twelve years ago. At her house the marquis met my -wife. One day my Renee was gone, and this Quintette with her. It is -she who is this Quatre Pattes." - -"The deuce!" cried Francois. "Now I see." - -"More than a year went by. Thou wouldst have killed the man. I could -not. I am a coward, Francois--a coward! God made me so; I can't help -it. One day an infant was brought to my door, with a note. _Mon Dieu_, -such a note! The dying mother in the hospital with her last money paid -a good sister to take the child to me--to me, of all men! And would I -pardon her? Francois, it was that devil's babe and hers. Would I -forgive her, and keep it? Wouldst thou have kept it?" - -"No," said Francois; "not I." - -"I did! I did! It was like her, all but the eyes. I grew to love it. -Then there was an accident, a fall, and the little maid is crippled for -life. It seemed horrible, but now I thank God, because she is safe from -the baseness of men. I wanted to die, but I must live; she has no other -friend." - -Francois sat still, pitiful, and deep in thought. At last he said: "Why -were you so terribly afraid of that woman? She could do no worse than -ruin our business." - -"I--hast thou ever been afraid thou wouldst murder some one? I was. I -would have done it in a minute hadst not thou come in." - -"_Sac a papier_! Afraid of thyself! How queer! Thou wert afraid of -thyself?" - -"Yes; I am--I was--I am often afraid of myself." - -"Let us forget it." - -"I cannot. What can I do?" - -"Do? Nothing." - -"But that man--" - -"Well, thou art helpless. I should not be. Forget. Thy chance may -come." He was at the end of his wisdom. He pitied this weak-hearted -coward who so frankly avowed his defect. "We will speak of it no more, -Pierre, or not now. But what brought you to Paris? Let us have it all, -and get done with it." - -"My poor little humpback was hardly six years old when she came to me, -crying, to know why the village children would not play with her. She -was a humpback and a bastard. What was 'bastard'? I have always fled -from trouble. One day I took the child and what little I had, and was -away to Paris. God knows how it hurt me to hear every evening how she -had been mocked and tormented; one is so foolishly tender. In this -great city I sought work, and starved. And when at last she was fading -before my eyes, I stole--my God, I stole!" - -"_Dame_! thou art particular. Must a man starve?" - -"When I got money out of a full purse I took, I set up our little -business, and then I found thee. And this is all. I dare say I shall -feel better to have told some one. I did not want to steal. I did not -steal after I began with the booth, unless I was in need--oh, sorely in -need. It was so on that fortunate day when I was saved by thee. In thy -place I should have kept the old fishwife's purse." - -"And let me swing?" - -"Yes--perhaps; I don't know. I--it is well for me thou wert not a -coward." - -"_Sacristie_! It appears that not to be a coward has its uses. Now -_bon jour_ and adieu to the whole of this business. Let the miserable -past go. 'T is bad company, and not amusing. Have no fear; I will take -care of thee. Come, let us go home." - -"Thou wilt look about a little before we go?" - -"Toto, he is mad, this man." - -"I sometimes think I am. At night, in my dreams, I have him by the -throat, and he laughs, and I cannot hold him. I wake up, and curse in -the darkness because I cannot kill him. And then I know it is a debt -never to be paid--never." - -Francois had had enough of the small man's griefs. Contempt and pity -were strangely mingled as he listened to his story. - -"I shall let thee talk no more," he said. "But _mille tonnerres_! I -cannot help thee to go mad. Let us go and wander in the country -to-morrow, thou and I and Toto. It will comfort thee. But no more of -this; I will not stand it." - -The advice was wholesome, and, as usual, Pierre accepted the orders of -his more sturdy-minded friend. - - - - - *X* - -_How Pierre became a Jacobin and how a nation became insane._ - - -Although the marquis was not again upon the scene, as the months went by -Despard became by degrees more gloomy. At night, in place of the gay -little cafe, he went out to the club of the Jacobins, and fed full of -its wild declamations against the _emigres_ and the aristocrats. It -amused Francois, who saw no further ahead than other men. Despard came -home loaded with gazettes and pamphlets, and on these he fed his -excitement long after his partner was asleep. - -When, as time went by, Pierre's vagaries increased, Francois found in -them less subject for mirth. The fat little man sat up later and later -at night. At times he read; at others he walked about muttering, or -moving his lips without uttering a sound. What disturbed Francois most -was that the poodle now and then showed fear of Pierre, and would no -longer obey him as he had been used to do. - -Meanwhile, as Pierre still attended sedulously to business, Francois -could find no fault. He himself had become devoted to his art of -palm-reading. He bought at the stalls old books, Latin and French, -which treated of the subject, and tried to keep up the name his odd ways -had made so profitable. Deceit was a part of his working capital; but -deceit and credulity are apt to go together, as a great man has well -said. Not for many louis would the conjurer have let any one read again -the lines of his own hand. When Despard began to teach him the little he -himself knew of palmistry, it had caused interest, and after a while a -half-belief. This grew as he saw the evident disturbance to which the -use of his art gave rise in certain of those who at first appeared to -look upon it as an idle jest. The imaginative have need to be wary, and -this man was imaginative, and had the usual notions of the gambler and -thief as to omens and luck. I have said he had no definite working -conscience. I have also said that he possessed an inborn kindness of -heart; he had a long memory for benefits, and a short one for injuries. -His courage was of fine quality: not even Quatre Pattes could terrify -him. - -The politics of the time were becoming month by month more troublous to -such as kept their heads steady in the amazing tumble of what for -centuries had been on top, and the rise of that which had been as long -underneath. The increasing interest of Pierre in all that went on -surprised Francois, and sometimes, as I have said, amused him. He could -not comprehend why he should care whether the king ruled, or the -Assembly. This mighty drama was nothing to him. He paid no taxes; he -toiled not, nor spun, except nets of deceit; and whether or not commerce -died and the plow stood idle in the furrow was to him of no moment. -Meanwhile, before the eyes of a waiting, wondering world historic fate -was shuffling the cards as neither war nor misrule had shifted them for -many a day. Knave and king, spade and club, were now up, now down. -Every one was in a new place. The old surnames were replaced by -classical appellations. Streets, palaces, and cities were rebaptized -with prenominal republican adjectives. Burgundy, Anjou, Navarre, and -the other ancient provinces, knew no more their great names heroically -famous. - -All men were to be equal; all men were free to be what they could. But -the freedom of natural or acquired inequality was not to be recognized. -There were new laws without end. The Jacobin added a social creed. All -men must _tutoyer_. "Your Majesty" was no more to be used. Because the -gentles said "thou" and "thee" to one another and to an inferior, all -men must "thou" as a sign that all are on a level. - -A bit of paper was to be five francs--and take care of thy head if thou -shouldst venture to doubt its value. As to all else, men accepted the -numberless and bewildering decrees of the Assembly. But the laws of -commerce no ruler can break. These are despotic, changeless, and as old -as the act of barter between man and man. The assignats fell in value -until two hundred francs would scarce buy a dinner. There, too, was a -new navy and a new army, with confusing theories of equal rights for -sailor, soldier, and captain. - -A noble desire arose everywhere to exercise the new functions. What joy -to cast a ballot, to act the part of officials, to play at soldiering! -All the cross dogs in France are unchained and the muzzles off; and some -are bloodhounds. What luxury to be judge, jury, and hangman, like the -noble of long ago! - -Even childhood caught the temper of the time. It played at being -officer and prisoner, built and tore down bastilles, and at last won -attention and a law all to itself when some young ruffians hung one of -their number in good earnest for an aristocrat. - -However indifferent was Francois at this time, the shifting drama amused -him as some monstrous burlesque might have done. Its tragedies were as -yet occasional, and he was by nature too gay to be long or deeply -impressed. There was none he loved in peril, and how to take care of -Francois his life had taught him full well. - -"_Allons zi gaiement!_" he cried, in the tongue of his old quarter; and -kept a wondering, anxious eye on Pierre. - - - - - *XI* - -_The juggling firm of Despard, Francois & Co. is broken up--Despard goes -into politics, and Francois becomes a fencing-master._ - - -January, 1791, Francois, having of late found business slack, had moved -to the open _place_ in front of the Palais Royal. He had taught Toto new -tricks--to shoulder a musket and to die _pour la patrie_. Time was -telling men's fortunes quite too fast for comfort. Neither his old -devices nor Toto's recently acquired patriotism was of much avail. -Moreover, Pierre was losing interest in the booth as he became absorbed -in politics. - -"Thou wilt not go to thy _sacre_ club, Pierre," said Francois, one night -late in February. "Here are two days thou hast left us, the patriot -Toto and me, to feed thee and make sous for the poor little maid at -Sevres." - -"She is not at Sevres." - -"Why not? Thou hast not said a word to me of this." - -"No; I had more important matters to think of." - -Francois, who was tranquilly smoking his pipe, looked up at his partner. -The man had lately worn a look of self-importance. - -"Well, what else?" - -"The sisters are aristocrats. A good _citoyenne_ hath her. I shall -give up the show. The country calls me, Pierre Despard, to save her. -The great Robespierre hath asked me to go into Normandy, to Musillon, -whence I came. I am to organize clubs of Jacobins." He spoke with -excitement, striding to and fro. He declared that he was not afraid now -of any one. To serve France was to have courage. - -"And how as to money?" asked Francois. - -He said his expenses would be paid by the clubs. Barnave, Duport, and -the deputies of the Right must be taught a lesson. There must be no -more kings. The people must rule--the people! He declaimed wildly. - -"_Fichtre!_" cried Francois, laughing. "It does seem to me that they -rule just now." - -Pierre went on with increasing excitement; and would not Francois go -with him? - -"Go with thee? Thou sayest we shall be deputies in the new Convention. -A fine thing that! And Toto too, I suppose? Not I. I am an -aristocrat. I like not thy Robespierre. As to the show, it pays no -longer, and I have greased the claws of the Crab until there is no more -grease left. I shall take to the streets, Toto and I. And so thou art -to be a great man, and to play poodle on thy hind legs for Petion and -the mob?" - -Pierre was offended. He rose and stood glaring at Francois with -wide-open eyes; then he said, as if to himself: "The marquis is near -Evreux. Let him take heed!" - -"_Mon Dieu_! He will eat thee as he would the frogs of his moat, that -man! I am not of those who fear, but if I had angered him--" - -"I have named him to the great Robespierre, the just, the good. He will -remember him." - -"Then go; and the devil take the whole lot of you!" - -"I shall go. But do not say thou art an aristocrat, for then I must -hate thee." - -"_Grand merci_! Thou poor, fat little pug, canst thou hate?" - -"Aye, as hell hates." Upon this Toto took refuge under his master's -bed. - -Francois rose, and, standing in front of the flushed, fat little man, -set a hand on each of Pierre's shoulders and stopped his excited march. - -"I cannot understand thee. I never could contrive to hate even a -gendarme, and if hell hates, I know not. Thou art helpless as a turtle -that is on his back. What use to kick? No; do not answer me. Hear me -out. I shall go my way--thou thy way. I served thee a good turn once, -and thou hast helped me to a living. Now I like not thy ways; thou art -going mad, I think." - -"Perhaps--perhaps," returned Pierre, gloomily. "Well, _c'est fini_--'t -is done. Now to settle." - -They divided their spare cash; and after that Pierre went to his club, -and Francois to bed and a dreamless sleep. - -In the morning he rose early, left his share of the rent on the table, -and with a little bag of clothes, and Toto after him, walked away across -the Seine, and soon found a small room under the roof. He paid in -advance the customary _denier a Dieu_, and settled down to think. - -[Illustration: "HE PAID IN ADVANCE THE CUSTOMARY DENIER A DIEU."] - -He was tired of the show, and meant to resume his old trade. His -conscience, or so much as he had, was at peace; all France was -plundering. Now the nobles were robbed, and now the church. - -"The world is on my side," he laughed, as he sat with Toto on his knees, -looking over a wide prospect of chimney-pots and tiles. - -Thus began again the life of the thief; but now, thanks to his long -training as a juggler, he was amazingly expert. He took no great risks, -but the frequent tumults of the streets were full of chances, although -it must be said that purses were thinner, watches and gold snuff-boxes -rarer, and caution less uncommon than it had once been. If business -prospered, he and Toto took long holidays in the country, and did a -little hunting of rabbits; for the gamekeeper was no longer a person to -be dreaded. Sometimes, lying on the turf, he thought how pleasant would -be a bit of garden, and assurance of good diet and daily work to his -taste. I fear it would scarcely have been long to his taste. When -something like a chance came, he could not make up his mind to accept -the heaven-sent offer. He was to see many things and suffer much before -his prosperous hour arrived. - -One fine day in April, Francois, with whom of late fortune had -quarreled, was seated in the sun on a bench in the now ill-tended garden -of the Luxembourg. The self-made difficulties of the country were -affecting more and more the business of the honest, and of that -uncertain guild which borrows but never returns. He had a way of taking -Toto into his counsels. "What shall we do, little devil?" The poodle -barked. "No. These accursed Jacobins are ruining France. What, knock a -man on the head at night! Bad dog, hast thou no morals? _Va donc_! Go -to. Thou hast not my close experience of the lantern, and stone walls -for a home I like not. Work, thou sayest? Too late; there is work for -no one nowadays. Thou wilt end badly, little monster." - -Toto whined, and having no more to say, fell asleep. At this moment -Francois, looking up, saw go by a young woman in black, and with her a -boy of perhaps ten years. On the farther side was a tall, well-dressed -man of middle age, whom, as he was looking away, Francois did not -recognize. Some bright thing fell unnoticed from the woman's wrist, and -lay in the sun. "Hist, Toto! Look there--quick!" In a moment the dog -was away, and back again, with a small miniature set in gold and -surrounded by pearls. It was the portrait of a young officer. Francois -hastily put it back into the dog's mouth, saying: "Go to sleep! Down! -down quickly!" The dog, well taught, accepted the trust, and dropped as -if in slumber, his head on his paws, while his master studied the -weathercocks on the old gray palace. A moment later both the man and -the woman turned to look for the lost miniature. Then Francois saw that -it was his old acquaintance the marquis. He had more than once seen him -in the garden, where he was fond of walking; but the great seigneur had -passed him always without notice. The boy ran back ahead of his -grandfather, and coming to Francois, said innocently: - -"Monsieur, have you seen a little picture madame let fall? It is so -big, and I saw it only just now on her wrist. Please to help us to look -for it. It is my father; he is dead." - -After the boy came the woman, looking here and there on the gravel. - -"_Dame de Dieu!_ she is beautiful," murmured Francois; "and that _sacre_ -marquis!" - -The voice he heard was sweet and low, and tender with regret at her -loss. - -"Has monsieur chanced to see a little miniature?" - -Monsieur was troubled, but his pocket and stomach were both empty. -Monsieur was distressed. He had seen no miniature. - -Next came the marquis. - -"Ho, ho!" he said pleasantly. "Here is the citizen my thief again. -Have you seen a small miniature?" - -Francois had not. - -"_Diable_! 'T is a pity, monsieur. Well, pardon a _ci-devant_ marquis, -but I do think monsieur knows a little too much of that miniature for -his eternal salvation. Also, monsieur does not lie as well as might be -expected from one in his line of life." - -Francois rose. He was embarrassed as he saw the tearful face of the -woman. - -"I was about to say I would look--I would search." - -Ste. Luce smiled. "Suppose we begin with you?" - -"I have it not." - -"Well, but where is it? I am not a man to be trifled with. Come, -quick, or I must ask the gendarmes yonder for a bit of help." - -Francois looked at him. There was menace in those cold gray eyes. -Should he trust to his own long legs? At this instant he heard a sob, -and glancing to the right, saw the woman seated on the bench with her -face in her hands, the little fellow at her side saying: "Do not cry, -mama; the gentleman will help us." The gentleman was ill clothed and -seedy. He had seen women cry, but they were not like this woman. - -"M. le Marquis does me injustice. Permit that my dog and I search a -little." - -The marquis smiled again. "_Pardieu!_ and if you search, and meanwhile -take a fancy to run, your legs are long; but now I have you. How the -deuce can I trust a thief?" - -The little lad looked up. "I will go with monsieur to look--and the -dog; we will find it, mama." - -"Monsieur may trust me; I will not run away," said Francois. "If -monsieur desires to search me?" - -"I do not search thieves." - -Francois looked at this strangely quiet gentleman with the large, -light-gray, unpleasant eyes, and then at the woman. - -"Come, Toto; we must take a look." - -The marquis stood still, quietly watching thief, dog, and boy. - -"Renee," he said, "don't make a fool of yourself." - -Then from a distance the boy cried, "We found it, mama!" and ran to meet -her. - -The marquis took it as Francois rejoined the group. - -"Ah, Master Thief, you are clever; but it is a little wet, this trifle, -and warm too. The dog had it all the while in his mouth. He is well -taught. Why the deuce did you give it up?" - -The boy began to understand this small drama. He had the courage of his -breed, and the training. - -"Did you dare to steal my mama's picture?" - -"Yes; when she let it fall." - -"I know now why you were glad to give it back. It was because she -cried." - -"Yes; it was because she cried." - -"Venire St. Gris!" exclaimed the marquis, who was pleased to swear like -Henry of Navarre. "You are a poor devil for a thief. You have -temptations to be good. I never have them myself. I thank Heaven I -have reasonably well used my opportunities to be agreeably wicked." - -"Father!" said the young woman, reproachfully; and then to Francois: "If -you are a thief, still I thank you; I cannot tell you how much I thank -you." - -"And how many louis do you expect, most magnanimous of thieves?" said -the marquis. - -The woman looked up again. "Come to me to-morrow; I will find a way to -help you." - -Something of yearning, some sense of a void, some complexity of novel -distress, arose in the thief's mind. - -"_Mon Dieu!_ madame," he said, turning toward her, without replying to -the marquis, "you are a saint. I--I will think. I am not fit for such -as you to talk to." - -"Quite true," said the marquis. "Hast thou thy purse, Renee? I forgot -mine." - -"No, no," she said. "Come and see us--Rue des Petits-Augustines--a -great house with a gilded gate. You will come? I will say they are to -let you in. Promise me that you will come." - -"And bring that poodle," added the marquis; "I will buy him." - -Francois laughed outright--that merry laugh which half Paris had learned -to like, till Paris tired of it and of its owner. - -"Monsieur will pardon me. I cannot sell my only friend. Good day." -And he walked away, the boy crying after him: "You will come? Oh, you -must come, because my mama says so." - -The marquis muttered: "_Animal_! If I had your carcass--no, if I had -had you awhile ago in Normandy, your manners would have been bettered. -But now the world is upside down. He will come, Renee. If thou art quit -of him for two hundred francs and a few lost spoons, thou mayest rest -thankful." - -Francois moved moodily away. Something was wrong in his world; an angel -coming into his crude life would not have disturbed him as this lady's -few kind words had done, and yet he had left her unanswered. He knew he -had been a fool, but knew not why. He had, too, a notion that he and -this marquis would meet again, but for this he was not eager. He -recalled the palm-reading. Had the woman been alone, he would probably -have said a glad "Yes"; but now his inclinations to obey her were sadly -diluted by feelings which he did not analyze, or perhaps could not have -analyzed. He did not accept the hand thus stretched out to save him, -but for many a day her tender eagerness and the pleading face which had -so attracted him came before him at times with a look of reproach. Is -it strange that this glimpse of a nobler nature and a better life than -his own should have had an influence on this man quite the reverse of -that which its good will sought to effect? He cannot be said to have -been refined, but he had in him tastes which are the germs of -refinement, and which, when I knew him, had no doubt produced results. -Probably he was in 1791 a coarser person, but he must always have been a -man who could be forced by circumstances to think. - -It may have been that the sense of a great gulf between him and a world -he was by nature inclined to like caused one of those rare spells of -despair to which the gay and over-sanguine are liable. Of course he had -seen and for brief seasons shared the profligacy of the Cite,--his -memoirs confess this with absolute frankness,--but these gross lapses -had been rare and brief. Now he plunged headlong into the worst -vileness of the most dissolute quarter, where few lived who were not -saturated with crime. I have no desire to dwell on this part of his -life. A month passed away, and he was beginning to suffer in health. -This amazed him. He had not hitherto known a pang save that of hunger. -He began to drink _eau-de-vie_ to relieve his sense of impaired -strength, and being off his guard and under the influence of the -temporary mood of rashness which drink is apt to cause, he twice -narrowly escaped arrest. - -Under the vivid impression thus created he was wandering homeward late -at night to some low resort in the Cite, when in the Rue aux Feves he -heard a cry in front of him. The moon was bright, and he saw a man set -upon by two fellows. The person assailed was staggering from the blow -of a club, and fell with the cry which the thief heard. Both bandits -threw themselves upon him, and, as he unwisely struggled, Francois saw -the glitter of a knife. Clearly this was no easy prey. As the three -tumbled over in the mud of the street there was small chance for a -decisive use of the blade. Francois, as I have said, had been always -free from crimes of violence, but this affair was none of his business, -and had his pocket been full he might have left the ruffians and their -prey unmolested. His purse, however, was down to the last sou, and here -was a chance. - -He called, "Catch them, Toto!" and, leaping forward, seized one of the -men by the throat and threw him on his back. The poodle took a good nip -of the other rascal's leg, and when the man broke away and, stumbling, -ran, pursued him until recalled by Francois's whistle. Meanwhile the -assaulted man sat up, a bit dazed. The other fellow--it was he of the -knife--was on his feet again, and at once turned furiously on the -rescuer. Francois darted to one side, and, catching him by the neck, -throttled him savagely. His great length of arm made it impossible for -the scamp, who was short and strong, to reach any vital organ. But he -stabbed Francois's shoulder over and over. Francois's grip on the throat -was weakening, when the victim, now on his feet, struck the man under -the ear, and thus knocked him clean out of Francois's failing grip. He -fell headlong, but was up and away in a moment, while a crowd began to -collect. - -"Hi! it is Francois!" some one cried. - -"Quick!" said the thief. "Room there! Let us get out of this." -Seizing the man he had saved, he hustled his way through the crowd and -hurried him toward the bridge. In a few minutes they were standing -alone by the river, amid the tombs back of Notre Dame. Then the man -spoke: - -"By Heaven! thou hast saved my life. Hallo! thou art bleeding. Here!" -and he tied a handkerchief about his shoulder. "We shall be in luck to -find a chaise. Wait!" and he ran away. - -Francois's head was dizzy. He sat on a tombstone, well sobered now, but -bleeding freely. It was long before he heard a horse; and when in the -chaise, where Toto promptly followed him, he fell back, and knew little -more until they stopped in the Rue St. Honore. Here his new -acquaintance got out, and soon returned with a glass of _eau-de-vie_. -With this aid, and the arm of his host, Francois was able to reach a -large room in the second story. He fell on a couch, and lay still while -the other man ran out to find a surgeon. - -On his arrival, Francois was put to bed in an adjoining room, and for -two weeks of care and good diet had leave to meditate on the changeful -chances of this wretched world. For a while he was too weak to indulge -his customary keenness of curiosity. His host, M. Achille Gamel, paid -him brief visits, and was singularly unwilling to talk one day, and the -next sufficiently so for the patient to learn that he had been in the -army as a _maitre d'armes_, and was now, in his own opinion, the best -fencing-master in France. Through the partitions could be heard the -click, click of the foils, and now and then the crack of pistols. After -a fortnight Francois's wounds were fairly healed, and he began to get -back his rosy complexion and his unfailing curiosity. - -One pleasant evening in June, Gamel appeared as usual. It was one of -his days of abrupt speech. - -"Art well?" - -"Yes." - -"Thou art soon mended." - -"Yes." His brevity begot a like form of answer, and Francois was now -somewhat on his guard. - -"I pay my debts." - -"That is true." - -"Now thou art well, what wilt thou do?" - -"I--I--I shall go away." - -"Why didst thou help me?" - -"My pocket and paunch were empty. It seemed a chance." - -"Thy two reasons are good. Who art thou?" - -"Who is every one in the Cite? A thief." - -"_Diable!_ but thou art honest--in speech at least." - -"Yes, sometimes. I was a conjurer too--for a while." - -"Yes, yes, I remember now. Thou art the fellow with a laugh. I see not -yet why thou hast helped me. Thou mightest easier have helped the -rascals and shared their gains." - -Francois began to be interested, and laughed a laugh which was the most -honest of his possessions. - -"I dislike clumsiness in my profession," he said. "Why should the -brutality of war be brought into a peaceful occupation?" He was half in -earnest, half in jest. - -"That is a third reason, and a good one." It was difficult to surprise -Gamel. "Suppose we talk business," he added. - -"Mine or thine?" - -"Mine. A moment, Citizen Francois--permit me. Pray stand up a moment." - -Francois rose as the fencing-master produced a tape-measure. "Permit -me," and with no more words he set one end of the tape on Francois's -shoulder and carried the length of it to his finger-tips. - -Francois stood still, wondering what it all meant. - -"The deuce!" said Gamel, slowly rolling up the measuring-tape. - -"Well, what is it? What is wrong?" - -"Wrong? Nothing. It is astonishing!" - -"What?" - -"This arm of thine." - -"Why?" - -"It is one and a half inches longer than mine." - -"Well?" - -"A gift! To have the longest arm in Paris! _Mon Dieu!_" - -"What of that?" - -"A fortune! Phenomenal! Superb! And a chest--and muscles! By -Hercules, they are as hard as horn!" - -"Well?" - -"_Diable_! Thou art dull for a thief." - -Francois had a high opinion of himself. He said: "Perhaps. What next?" - -"I need help. I will teach thee to fence and to shoot. Canst thou be -honest? I ask not if thou art." - -"Can I? I do not know. I have never tried very long." Then he paused. -To fence like a gentleman, to handle a sword, had its temptations. "Try -me." - -"Good! Canst thou be a Jacobin to-day and a Royalist to-morrow?" - -"Why not?" - -"The messieurs and their kind fence here in the morning; after our -breakfast come the Jacobins about two. I ask not thy politics." - -"Why not?" said Francois, who was the frankest of men--"why not? I am -an aristocrat. I am at the top of my profession. I like naturally the -folks who are on top." - -"France is like a ball now, no top, no bottom, rolling. Let us be -serious." - -"_Dieu!_ that is difficult. I want to quit thieving. It doesn't pay at -present. I accept the citizen's offer. Does it include my dog?" - -"Yes, indeed! Toto--a treasure! He will delight our pupils." - -"Good! He must have a little sword and wear a white cockade till noon, -and then a tricolor." - -"And will five francs a week suffice until thou art fit to teach? And -thy board and lodging--that goes without saying. After a while we will -talk again." - -"'T is a fortune!" said Francois; and upon this agreement the pair fell -to chatting about the details of their future work. - -"One moment," said Francois, as Gamel rose. "What are thy own politics?" - -"I will tell thee when I can trust thee," said the fencing-master. "Now -they vary with the clock." - -"I see. But I have told thee mine." - -"Thou wert rash. I am not." - -Francois laughed merrily, "Good night." He was happy to be at rest, -well fed, and with something to do which involved no risk. Gamel went -away, and Francois fell to talking to the poodle. - -"Toto! Sit up, my sleepy friend! Attention! What dost thou think of M. -Achille Gamel?" The poodle had been taught when questioned to put his -head on one side, which gave him an air of intelligent consideration. -"Ah, thou dost think he is as long-legged as I! Any fool of a cur can -see that. What else?" - -"He has great teeth--big--the better to eat thee, my dear! Curly hair, -like thine, and as black; a nose--of course he has a nose, Toto. Art -perplexed, little friend? Oh, that is it! I see. Thou art right. He -smiles; he never laughs. 'T is that bothered thee. Thou dost like him? -Yes. Thou art not sure? Nor I. We must laugh for two. The bones are -good here. That is past doubt. We will stay, and we will keep our eyes -open. And listen now, Toto. We are honest. Good! Dost thou -understand? No more purses, or out we go. No stealing of cutlets. Ah, -thou mayest lick thy chops in vain, bandit!" - -A few days later Gamel began to fence with Francois, who liked it well. -He was strong, agile, and like his old friends the cats for quickness of -foot. Gamel was charmed. - -"We must make no mistakes. The foil held lightly--so, so! If you grasp -it too strongly you will not feel the other's blade. That is better. -'T is the fingers direct the point. Thy hand a little higher--so, so!" - -They fenced before the pupils came and in the intervals when none was on -hand. Francois was tireless. - -It was June now, and Robespierre was the public prosecutor, with Petion -at his side. Gamel read aloud the announcement with a coldly stern -face. Francois heard it with indifference. - -"_Tiens!_" he cried. "What matters it? _Dame!_" as he lunged at the -wall, "I do believe my arm is an inch longer." He was thinking, as he -tried over and over a new guard, of what a queer education he had had. -Gamel walked away into his own room. He was a man who often liked to be -alone. Apt to be monosyllabic with his pupils, he could at times become -seriously talkative at night over a pipe and a glass. Francois began to -like him, and to suspect that he in turn was liked--a matter not -indifferent to this poor devil, who had himself an undeveloped talent -for affection. - -"_Mon ami_, Toto! Let us think. I might have been a priest. What an -escape! Or a great chorister. That is another matter. A thief, a -street-dog, a juggler, a _maitre d'escrime_. _Parbleu_! What next? We -are getting up in the world. My palm, little rascal? Thou wouldst read -it. Ah, bad dog, not I! Let us to bed; come along. It seems too good -to last." - - - - - *XII* - -_In which Toto is seen to change his politics twice a day--the mornings -and the afternoons quarrel--In which Jean Pierre Andre Amar, "le -farouche," appears._ - - -The fencing-master took great pains with his promising _debutant_, and -now at last thought he could trust him to give lessons. He gave him -much advice, full of good sense. He must dress simply, not in any -marked fashion. And here were the two cockades, and two for Toto, who -was fitted with a toy sword, and had been taught to howl horribly if -Francois said, "Citizen Capet," and to do the like if he cried, -"Aristocrat!" - -Francois, gay and a little anxious, followed Gamel for the first time -during the lesson-hours into the _salle d'armes_. Toto came after them -in full rig, with a cap and a huge white cockade. A dozen gentlemen, -most of them young, were preparing to fence. - -The poodle was greeted with "Bravo!" and strutted about on his hind legs -with evident enjoyment of the approval. - -"Wait here," said Gamel to Francois. "I will by and by give thee a -chance." Francois had, of course, been constantly in the room when the -patrons were absent, and it was now familiar. It had been part of the -old hotel of some extinct nobleman, and was of unusual height, and quite -forty feet square, with tall windows at each end; a cushioned bench ran -around the walls, and above it hung wire masks, foils, sabers, and a -curious collection of the arms of past ages and barbarous tribes. -Chiefly remarkable were the many fine blades, Spanish or Eastern. At -the side of the hall, a doorway led into the shooting-gallery, a late -adjunct since the English use of the pistol had been brought into the -settlement of quarrels made savage by the angry politics of the day. On -one of the walls of the fencing-room was a large sign on which was -painted: "Achille Gamel, _ci-devant_ Maitre d'Armes, Regiment du Duc de -Rohan-Chabot. Lessons in the small sword, saber, and pistol." The word -"Duc" was chalked over, but was still easily to be made out. - -Presently Gamel came to Francois in his shirt and breeches, foil in -hand. "This way, Francois." As they slowly crossed the room, Gamel -went on to say in a low tone of voice: "Don't be too eager. Take it all -as a matter of course. Don't be nervous. One must have had a serious -affair or two before one gets over the foil fever. Remember, you are -here to teach, not to triumph. There are few here you cannot touch, but -that is not business." - -"I understand," said Francois. - -"I will give you for your lesson the best blade in Paris. You can teach -him nothing. He is my foster-brother, the Marquis de Ste. Luce." - -"Ste. Luce!" - -"Yes; he is here often." - -As they approached, the great gentleman came to meet them, separating -himself from the laughing group of younger men. - -"_Ma foi!_" he exclaimed. "Is this your new blade, Gamel?" He caught -Francois's appealing eye, and showed no sign of having known the thief -until they were apart from the rest and had taken their foils. Then he -said quietly, "Does Gamel know?" - -"Yes, monsieur. I saved his life in a row in the Cite, and he gives me -this chance." - -"Good! I shall not betray you. But beware! You must keep faith, and -behave yourself." - -"Monsieur may trust me." - -"And you can fence?" - -"A little, monsieur." - -"Well, then, on guard!" The marquis was pleased to praise the new -teacher. "He has a supple wrist, and what a reach of arm!" At last he -went away to Gamel's room, where they were absent a half-hour. These -private talks, Francois observed later, were frequent, especially with -certain of the middle-aged gentlemen who took here their morning -exercise. - -After this first introduction to business, Francois sat still when the -marquis had left him. By and by the gentleman came back, and saying a -word of encouragement to Francois, went away. - -"Take M. de Lamerie, Francois," said Gamel; and turning to a gentleman -near by, added, "_A vous_, monsieur." Others began to select foils and -to fence in couples, so that soon the hall rang with the click, click of -meeting steel. Francois was clever enough to let his pupil get in a -touch now and then, and meanwhile kept him and those who looked on -delighted with his natural merriment. He was soon a favorite. The dog -was made to howl at a tricolored cockade, and proved a great success. -As to the fencing-lessons, Gamel was overjoyed, and as time ran on came -to trust and to like his thief, who began speedily to pick up the little -well-mannered ways and phrases he heard about him. He liked well to be -liked and to be praised for his skill, which week by week became -greater, until none except M. Gamel and the marquis were able to meet -him on equal terms. The master of arms was generous; the wages rose. -The clothes Francois now wore were better, and when Gamel asked him to -choose a rapier for wear in the street, which was not yet forbidden, the -poor thief felt that he was in the full sunlight of fortune. - -The afternoons were less to his taste. If a new pupil arrived, the -cook, an old woman, let him in, and Gamel saw him in an anteroom and -settled terms and hours. The Jacobins came after two o'clock. Then the -room was unusually full. The poodle howled at the name of Louis Capet. -Tricolored cockades were everywhere. The talk was of war and the -frontier, the ways of speech were guarded, the manners not those of the -morning. These citizens were awkward, but terribly in earnest. The -pistol-gallery was much in favor; but at this deadly play Francois was -never an expert. He did not like it, and was pleased when the Vicomte -de Beausejour, a favored pupil, said: "'T is a coarse weapon, Francois. -Ah, well enough to enable bulldog English to settle their disputes over -a bone; but, _dame!_ quite unfit to be the arm of honor of gentlemen." -This uncertain property of honor seemed to Francois a too insecure kind -of investment. It was enough to have to take care of one's pocket; and -his being now well lined, Francois began to resent the possibility of -those sudden changes of ownership which under other conditions he had -looked upon as almost in the nature of things. - -During this summer, and in the winter of '91 and '92, Gamel was at times -absent for days. Whenever he returned he was for a week after in his -monosyllabic mood. Francois, who was keenly alive to his present -advantages, and who saw how these absences interfered with their -business, began to exercise his easily excited inquisitiveness, and to -meditate on what was beneath Gamel's frequent fits of abstraction. His -own life had known disappointments, not always of his own making. He -dreaded new ones. The past of the Cite, Quatre Pattes, Despard, those -haunting eyes of the marquis's widowed daughter, the choristers, the -asylum, the mad street life--all the company of his uncertain days--were -gone. Now, of late, he began to have a feeling of uneasy belief that -things were once more about to change. Nor was the outer life of the -capital such as to promise tranquillity. A nation was about to become -insane. It was at this time like a man thus threatened: to-day it was -sane, to-morrow it might be reeling over the uncertain line which -separates the sound from the unsound. Had Francois been more interested -and more apprehensive, he was intelligent enough to have shared the -dismay with which many Frenchmen saw the growth of tumultuous misrule. -Indeed, the talk of the morning fencing-school should have taught him -alarm. But he had formerly lived the life of the hour, even of the -minute, and as long as he was well fed, housed, and clothed, his normal -good humor comfortably digested anxiety. - -I should wrongly state a character of uncommon interest if I were to -give the impression of a man who had merely the constant hilarity of a -happy child. He was apt to laugh where others smiled; but, as he -matured, cheerful contentment was his usual mood, and with it, to the -last, the probability of such easily born laughter as radiated mirth -upon all who heard it, like a companionable fire diffusing its generous -warmth. He was at this time doing what he most fancied. The company -suited him. He liked the tranquil ways of these courteous gentlemen. -In a word, he was contented, and for a time lost all desire to seek -change or adventure. His satisfaction in the life made him more quiet -and perhaps more thoughtful. He had every reason to be cheerful, and -cheerfulness is the temperate zone of the mind. - -At times, on Sundays, in the summer of '92, he wandered into the country -with Toto; but these holidays were rare. Now and then the habits of -years brought again the longing for excitement; with the meal-hours he -recovered his common sense, being a big fellow of sharp appetite and a -camel-like capacity for substantial food. - -The feud between the cockades broke out at this time in duels, which it -became the fashion to drive to the Bois to see. Women of all classes -looked on and applauded, and few liked it if the affair failed to prove -grave. Francois found it entertaining. The duels were, in fact, many -in the years of grace '91 and '92. - -The morning pupils wore their hair in curls, dressed in short clothes, -and defied the new-fashioned republican pantaloons, which were rising up -to the armpits and descending the legs. They carried sword-canes, or -sticks like the club of Hercules; a few still wore the sword. Brown and -gray wore the afternoon citizens, with long straight hair, short -waistcoats, and long and longer _culottes_ above large steel -shoe-buckles, all that were silver having been given to aid the funds of -a bankrupt government. The morning, which knew very well who came in -the later hours, abused the afternoon, and this portion of the day -returned those compliments in kind. - -Now and then the morning had a little affair with the afternoon, for the -Terror was not yet. In cafes and theaters there were constant -outbreaks, and men on both sides eager enough to sustain opinion by the -sword or the pistol. When one of what Francois called "our little -domestic difficulties" was on hand, there was excitement and interest -among Royalists and Jacobins, with much advice given, and huge disgust -when monsieur was pinked by Citizen Chose of the Cordeliers or of the -Jacobin Club. - -If the reverse obtained, and some gentleman of ancient name condescended -to run Citizen Chose through the lungs, there was great rejoicing before -noon and black looks after it. Here were a half-dozen affairs in a -month, for these were the first blades in France. - -There were laws against the duel, but the law changed too fast for -obedience, and fashion, as usual, defied it. Hatred and contempt were -ready at every turn. Two abbes fought, and what was left of the great -ladies went to see and applaud. - -This duel between morning and afternoon began to amuse Paris. But -pretty soon neither the master of arms nor his assistant was as well -pleased at the excessive attention thus drawn to the school of fencing. -Gamel disliked it for reasons which he did not set forth, and Francois -because he felt that his disturbing readiness to turn back to a life of -peril and discomfort was like enough to be reinforced by coming events. -He adored good living, yet could exist on crusts. He was intelligent, -yet did not like to be forced to think. An overmastering sense of the -ludicrous inclined him to take the world lightly. He liked ease, yet -delighted in adventure. He distrusted his own temperament. He had need -to do so. Excitement was in the air. The summer of '92 was unquiet, -and pupils were less numerous, so that Francois found time to wander. -The autumn brought no change in his life, but Gamel became more and more -self-absorbed, and neglected his pupils. The gentlemen who fenced in -the mornings began to disappear, and the new year of 1793 came in with -war without and tumult within distracted France. - -For several days before the 21st of January, 1793, strange faces were -frequently seen in the morning hours, or more often late at night. -These passed into Gamel's room, and remained long. The marquis, more -thoughtful than usual, came and went daily. Early on the 20th, Gamel -told Francois that he should be absent until after the 21st, the day set -for the king to die. Francois asked no questions, and was not deeply -grieved to be left in the dark as to what was in contemplation. During -the previous week there had been sad faces in the morning hours. The -pupils were fewer; they were leaving Paris--and too many were leaving -France. The Jacobins, with whom Francois fenced in the latter part of -the day, were wildly triumphant. They missed Gamel when he was absent, -and asked awkward questions. It was plain enough to his assistant that -the master of this turbulent school was a Royalist _enrage_, as men then -said. The assistant was much of his mind, but he was also far more loyal -to one Francois than to the unfortunate king. - -He was not surprised that at the hour of opening on the 21st no one -appeared. He sat thinking, and a little sorry for the humbled Louis -rumbling over the crowded streets to his doom. The prisons were already -becoming crowded; the richer bourgeoisie had become submissive. The -more able and aggressive Jacobins were about to seize the reins of power -from the sentimental Girondists. - -"Let us think a little," said Francois to his friend and counselor Toto. -The poodle woke up, and sat attentive. "It is disagreeable to have to -think, _mon ami_; but there are our heads. Without a head one cannot -eat or enjoy a bone. Shall we go to the frontier, and be shot at, and -shoot? _Dame!_ a thousand bullets to one guillotine. We do not like -that. Let us change our opinions, Toto, join the clubs, and talk -liberty. Yes; that is thy opinion. Must we go back to the streets? 'T -is good nowadays to be obscure, and thou art becoming a public -character, Toto." - -He read the gazette awhile, practised with the pistol, and taught the -dog a new trick. Still no one came, and the day wore on to noon. At -this hour the bell rang, and the poodle barked, as was his custom. -"Learn to hold thy tongue," said the master. The servant had gone, like -all Paris, to see a brave man die. - -Francois opened the outer door. A strongly built man he had never -before seen entered, and, pushing by him, went without a word into the -great room beyond. - -"Hallo, citizen! What dost thou want?" said Francois, following him. - -"Art thou Citizen Gamel?" - -Francois was not; and what could he do for the citizen? - -The man for a moment made no reply, but glanced searchingly about the -hall, while the assistant looked him over as keenly. He was a personage -not easily to be forgotten. - -"No one else here?" he asked. - -"No one." - -The questioner was a man not over thirty-five, of colossal make, and -with something about him which Toto resented. He began to bark, and -then, of a sudden, fled under a bench, and watched the newcomer. - -His features were out of keeping with his height and breadth. The -Jacobin had small, restless eyes, a diminutive nose, perhaps broken, and -a large-lipped mouth, which, as he talked, was drawn to one side as -though from some loss of power on the other half of the face. - -"I am Jean Pierre Andre Amar," he said, with an air of importance. - -"Will the citizen be seated?" - -He would not. He desired to see Citizen Gamel. - -Francois regretted his absence on business. Amar, later known as _le -farouche_, desired to see the list of pupils, in order to select an -unoccupied morning hour. Unluckily, the master had the keys. The -citizen wished to fence, and could come in the morning only; he was busy -after that. Francois would mention his name; perhaps the hours of the -morning were full, but Citizen Gamel would no doubt arrange. - -The man with the wandering mouth stood in thought, said he would return, -and then asked abruptly: - -"Art thou his assistant?" - -"Yes." - -"And thy name?" - -"Francois." - -"Has Citizen Francois a _carte-civique_--a certificate of citizenship?" - -Francois knew better than to refuse. "Fetch me the card, Toto. 'T is -on the chair in my room. _Va_--go!" - -"Thou art careless, Citizen Francois." - -Francois, on this, became short of speech. Toto ran back. "Give it to -the citizen." - -Amar took it, saying: "It is correct. And so a dog is sent to fetch the -safeguard the people provide?" - -[Illustration: "'AND SO A DOG IS SENT TO FETCH THE SAFEGUARD THE PEOPLE -PROVIDE?'"] - -Francois laughed. "The citizen is particular. But here we are good -republicans, and have given our useful arms to the army, and think to go -soon ourselves. Shall I give the citizen a lesson?" - -No; he would call again. The section wished the names of all who fenced -here. As the citizen reached the door, he said, turning: - -"Thou art the man who used to laugh in the show. Robespierre told me of -what fortune was read on his palm. A great man. Take care of thy own -fortune. Thou art not of the club. It may be thou wilt laugh no more." -This while the distorted mouth went to left and came back, and the small -eyes winked and wandered. Francois thanked him. He would join the -club, the list should be ready, and so on. - -When alone again, Francois began to reflect on what was likely to -happen. At any time, Amar might return with a guard. On the 23d, as -usual during this sad week, there were no morning pupils; and still -Gamel came not, and Francois had to manage the turbulent afternoon -pupils alone. - - - - - *XIII* - -_Citizen Amar, meeting the marquis, is unlucky and vindictive._ - - -A fear vast and oppressive was upon the great city. The white cockades -were gone. Francois burned all he could find. For a week no one came -to fence in the morning. The afternoons were full, and there was much -inquiry for Citizen Gamel. On the night of the 24th of this terrible -January, 1793, Francois went out. Paris was recovering, and, as usual, -forgetful, was eating and drinking and dancing, while all Europe was -ringing with the news of this murder of a good man too weak for a mighty -task. - -When, later, Francois returned to the school of arms he smelt the odor -of a pipe. "Ah!" he cried, "Toto, he has come. 'T is none too soon." -Candles lighted dimly the large hall and the rooms beyond it. He heard -no sounds, and, suddenly becoming uneasy, hastened to enter the little -salon. It was empty, as were all the rooms. On the bedroom floor lay -scattered clothes. Scorched leaflets were fluttering like black crows -over the ashes of a dying fire. They were fragments of burnt paper. An -open desk was on the table, and everywhere were signs of haste. - -Francois ran out to the kitchen, and called their only servant, a shrewd -old woman. She said: "I heard thee, citizen. I was coming to tell thee -that Citizen Gamel has gone." - -"Gone! _Mon Dieu!_" - -"He has paid me, and well; and here is a box for thee, Citizen Francois. -I hid it under the mattress. Oh, I have waited, but I am afraid." - -Francois took the box and its key, and went to his room. The box -contained some five hundred francs in gold, and as much more in -assignats--the notes of the day, and really worth but little. In a -folded package were papers and a letter. It read thus: - -"I am sorry to leave thee. A business affair has failed, and I go -westward. I risk this to warn thee to fly. For two days thou art safe, -but not longer. If a gentleman calls whom thou knowest, and asks for -_Monsieur_ Achille Gamel, tell him all. I inclose for thee a passport. -No matter how I got it. It is good. Use it soon. I divide with thee my -small store. Thou hast been honest; stay so. We may meet in better -times." - -Francois laughed. "We must go, Toto. Well, it has a good side; thou -wilt get thinner." Then he read the passport. It described him well: -Jean Francois, juggler ("Good!"), returning to Normandy; affairs of -family; a father dying. "Good! Now I have one parent at least." It -was in due order. "Thou hast no papers, Toto; but thy black head is -secure." - -At early morning on the 25th of January, he found a vender of -antiquities, and quickly sold him, for two hundred francs, the antique -arms in the fencing-room. He must remove them that coming night. Next -he sought a maker of articles for the jugglers who were still to be -found in every town; for neither at this time nor during the Terror did -the people cease to amuse themselves. Francois bought a set of gaily -tinted balls and the conjuring apparatus with which he was familiar. -Once again in his room, he packed his clothes in a knapsack and his -juggler's material in a bag that he could carry. A long cloak which his -master had left he set aside to take, and, thus prepared, felt that on -the whole he had better risk waiting until the dawn of the following day -before he set out on his wintry journey. The old woman had already fled -in alarm. - -On the following morning, at 9 A.M., Francois went into the great hall -to secure pistols and the fine Spanish rapier which Gamel had given him. -Here he paused, and re-read the passport. A blank space had been left -for the insertion of the special locality to which the bearer might wish -to go in Normandy. - -"Ah!" he exclaimed, "that must do. I will go to Musillon. Perhaps I -shall find Despard. He will help me to recover that desirable papa." -He went back to Gamel's room, and carefully completed the passport by -inserting the name of the village Musillon. - -After this he returned to the hall, talking to the poodle as he went. -"Toto, thou art uneasy," he said; "and I too, my friend. Remember to -howl no more at Jacobins. Thou art of the Left, a dog of the Left. -_Tiens!_ the bell." He caught up his rapier, and opened the door. A -powerful, broad-shouldered man entered. He was clad in gray, and wore -the red bonnet the extreme Jacobins affected, and which Robespierre so -much despised. - -"Ah, no one here. That is well. I trust Gamel has gone." - -"Ah!" exclaimed Francois to himself. "'T is my confounded marquis. Now -for ill luck." - -"Is Monsieur Gamel at home? _Monsieur_ Achille Gamel?" He emphasized -the title. - -Francois understood, with no great amazement, that this was the man of -whom Gamel's letter spoke. He replied, "This way, please, monsieur." - -The gentleman followed without a word. - -"Read this," said Francois; "and, pardon me, but read it quickly. My -head appears to me to be less securely attached to my body than common." - -"_Dame_! You are as jolly as ever, my delightful thief." - -"I beg that monsieur will read this letter, and at once. _Nom de ciel!_ -there is no time to be lost." And still he laughed. "We are in a trap, -monsieur." - -The marquis was not to be hurried; it was not his way. "St. Gris! you -can laugh. I envy you. In France men grin, for they must; but laughter -is dead. Ah!" and he fell to considering the letter. Then he folded it -deliberately. "Burn it," he said. "So; that is well; and now, my good -thief, I came to warn Gamel. He has wisely fled. Of course there was a -plot, and, as usual, it failed. You, who are not in it, are like enough -to pay other folks' debts. I have a certain mild interest in honest -rascality. You are a marked man. No cabbage of the field is more sure -of the knife. Go, and soon." - -"I have heard from Gamel, monsieur. He assured me that I was safe here -for a day or two--I know not how he knew that." - -"I do, but I scarcely share his confidence. Go soon." - -"I shall go at dawn to-morrow." - -"No; go to-day--this evening." - -"I will. Monsieur will pardon me if I ask if madame, monsieur's -daughter, is well and safe? There are few who have been kind to me, -and--" - -"My child is well," said the marquis, "and in Normandy; but if safe or -not, who can say, while these wolves destroy women and children? Safe! -I would give my soul to be sure of that." His face showed the transient -emotion he felt; and suddenly, as if annoyed at his own weakness, he -drew himself up and said abruptly: "Go--and go quickly! I shall leave -at once--" - -At this moment the bell rang violently. - -"The devil!" cried the marquis. "Go and see, and do not shut the inner -door; I must hear." With this he entered the pistol-gallery and waited. -Francois obeyed, and, with the sheathed rapier still in his hand, -crossed the hall. Again the bell rang. - -"He is in a mischief of a hurry. No noise, Toto!" - -As he opened the outer door, the man of the warped face broke in, and, -passing him at once, walked across the little reception-room and into -the great hall beyond. Again his height and massive build struck the -fencing-master. - -"Where is Gamel, citizen?--and no lies to me! Where is Gamel, I say?" - -"He has gone away. Why, I do not know. Will the citizen search his -rooms?" - -"Search! Not I. I will call the municipals. What are those rooms over -there? And arms! Why have they not been sent to the committee for our -patriot children on the frontier?" - -"Perhaps Citizen Amar would kindly inspect them, and then, if required, -we can send them. Many have been already sent. Behold, citizen, a -war-club of Ashantee, a matchlock, a headsman's sword. _Parbleu!_ the -guillotine is better." - -"I see, citizen; I see. But now of Gamel. He was to be here to-day, I -hear. I will return presently with the officers; and, friend citizen, -it will be well for thee to assist, and heartily. This Gamel was in -some plot to save the Citizen Capet. Like master, like man. Have ready -the lists of those aristocrats who fence here in the morning. Thou -canst save thy head by making a clean breast of it. I shall return in -half an hour. Have everything ready." - -At this the dreaded Jacobin, having looked over the arms and duly -impressed the fencing-master, moved toward the door of exit. Should -Amar leave the room, Francois felt that his own fate was certain. He had -been too much with Gamel. Less things every day cost the heads of men. -There was death or life in the next five minutes. Francois was not one -to hesitate. Preceding the Jacobin, he quietly set his back to the -door, and, locking it, put the key in his pocket. This action was so -dexterous and swift that for a moment the Jacobin did not perceive that -he was trapped. He was thinking if there was anything more to be said. -He looked up. "Well, open the door, citizen." As he spoke, the two -strangest faces in Paris were set over against each other. Here was -comedy, with long lean features, twinkling eyes above, and below the -good humor of a capacious mouth set between preposterous ears. And -there was tragedy, strong of jaw, long hair lying flat in black, -leech-like flakes on a too prominent brow, and small eyes, deep-set, -restless, threatening, seen like those of a wolf in cave shelters--a -face no man trusted, a face on which all expressions grew into -deformity; not a mere beast; a terribly intelligent bigot of the new -creed, colossal, alert, unsparing, fearless, full of vanity. - -When the citizen commissioner said, "Open," Francois replied: - -"Not just yet, citizen." - -"What is this?" shouted Amar. "Open, I say, in the name of the law!" - -"Not I." And Francois, with a quick motion, threw off the sheath of the -rapier. It fell with a great clatter on the far side of the room. - -"Open, I say!" - -At this moment Ste. Luce came across the hall. - -"What the deuce is all this, Francois?" - -Amar turned his square shoulders, and looked at the marquis. - -"I presume thee, too, to be one of this rascal Gamel's band. If thou -dost think I, Pierre Amar, am afraid of thee, thou art going to find out -thy mistake. What is thy name?" - -"Go to the devil!" cried the marquis. The Jacobin darted toward the -window; but Francois was too quick for him, and instantly had him by the -collar, the point of the rapier touching his back. "Move a step, and -thou art a dead man." The face, crooked with passion, half turned over -the shoulder. - -"Misery! What a beauty! Didst thou think I valued my head so little as -to trust thee, scum of the devil's dish-water?" For some reason this -huge animal filled Francois with rage, and he poured out a flood of the -abusive slang of the Cite as the marquis came up. - -"Drop that window-curtain!" said the thief. "And now, what to do, -monsieur?" - -The captured man showed the utmost courage, and no small lack of wisdom. -"Dog of an aristocrat! I know thee. It was thou didst kill Jean -Coutier, last month. I saw thee, coward! We knew not thy name. Now we -shall take pay for that murder." - -The marquis grew white to the eyes, with a certain twitching of the lips -to be seen as Francois again asked: - -"What shall we do with him? Shall we tie him?" - -"No; kill him. What! you will not? Give me your rapier. 'T is but one -wolf less." - -Francois was more than unwilling. The intense hatred of the noble for -the Jacobin he did not share; indeed, he liked the man's fearlessness, -but, nevertheless, meant to provide for his own security. His -conscience, such as it was, refused to sanction cold-blooded murder. - -"I cannot. Go away! I will take care of this rascal." - -"There is no time to lose," said the marquis. "Kill the brute." - -"Not I," said Francois. - -"Thou art coward enough to kill a man in cold blood!" cried Amar. "This -is the fine honor you talk of. Better go. All thy kind are running; -but, soon or late, the guillotine will get thy hog-head, as it did thy -Jew-nosed king's." - -"The face and the tongue are well matched," said Ste. Luce, quietly. -"It will take a good ten minutes to tie and gag him. You will not kill -him? Then give the fellow a blade, and--I will see to the rest. Are you -man enough to take my offer? Quick, now!" - -"Try me. I am no weakling, like poor Coutier." - -"Find him a blade, Francois. I will watch him. Be quick!" He took the -rapier, and stood by the motionless figure, whose uneasy eyes followed -the thief as he went and came again. - -"The blades are of a length, Francois? Yes. Lock the door. Ah, it is -done. Good! Now, keep an eye on him, Francois. Take care of yourself -if he has the luck to kill me. However, that is unlikely. Ah, you have -a sword, Francois." - -"The citizen talks a good deal," said Amar, trying his blade on the -floor. - -"Yes," said the marquis, negligently untying his cravat. "It is so -rare, in these democratic days, that one has a chance to talk with one -of you gentlemen." - -"Bah!" cried the Jacobin, "we shall see presently." As he spoke, he -laid his sword on a chair and began to strip. As he took off his coat -and waistcoat, he folded them with care, and laid them neatly on a -bench. - -The marquis also stripped to his waistcoat, but it was with more haste. -He threw his coat to Francois, and took his place in the middle of the -room, where he waited until his slower antagonist, in shirt and -breeches, came forward to meet him. Both believed it to be a duel to -the death, but neither face showed to Francois any sign of anxiety. The -Jacobin said: - -"The light is in thine eyes, citizen. If we were to move so as to -engage across the room--" - -"It is of no moment," returned the marquis. "Are you ready?" - -"Yes." - -Francois saw no better method of disposing of an awkward business. -Nevertheless, he was uncomfortable. "What if this devil should kill the -marquis?" He cried, "On guard, messieurs!" and stepped aside. - -The marquis saluted with grave courtesy; but the Jacobin, obeying the -fashion of the schools of fence, went through the formula of appearing -to draw the sword, and certain other conventional motions supposed to be -exacted by etiquette. The marquis smiled as Amar led off in this -ceremonious fashion. These preliminaries of the _salle d'armes_ were -usually omitted or curtailed in serious combats. The seigneur, amused, -and following Amar's lead, went through the whole performance. -Meanwhile Francois looked the two men over, and was not ill pleased. -This heavy fellow should prove no match for a practised duelist like -Ste. Luce. He was soon undeceived. - -Both men were plainly enough masters of their weapon, and for at least -two minutes there was no advantage. Then Ste. Luce was touched in the -left shoulder, and a distorted grimace of satisfaction ran over the face -of the Jacobin. The marquis became more careful, and a minute or two -later Francois saw with pleasure that Amar was breathing a trifle hard. -He had half a mind to cry: "Wait! wait! He is feeling the strain." He -held his peace, and, with Toto, looked on in silence. The marquis knew -his business well, and noted the quickening chest movements of his -adversary. He began to smile, and to make a series of inconceivably -quick lunges. Now and then the point of either blade struck fair on the -convex steel shell-like guard which protected the hand. When this -chanced, a clear, sweet note as of a bell rang through the great hall. -The Jacobin held his own, and Francois, despite his anxiety, saw with -the satisfaction of a master how lightly each rapier lay in the grasp of -the duelist, and how dexterously the fingers alone were used to guide -the blades. - -Of a sudden the strange face was jerked as it were to left, and a savage -lunge in tierce came perilously near to ending the affair. Ste. Luce -threw himself back with the quickness of a boy. The point barely -touched him. "St. Gris!" he called out gaily. "That was well meant. -Now take care!" - -"By St. Denis! 't is a master," muttered Francois. The marquis seemed of -a sudden to have let loose a reserve of unlooked-for power. He was here -and there about the massive and by no means unready bulk of Amar, swift -and beautifully graceful. - -Then of a sudden the marquis's blade went out as quick as lightning, and -just at the limit of a nearly futile thrust caught Amar over the right -eye. "_Dame_! I missed those lanterns of hell!" - -The Jacobin brushed away the blood which, running down his face, made -his right eye useless for the time. - -The marquis fell back, and dropped his point. "The deuce! The man -cannot see. Tie a handkerchief around his head." - -The Jacobin was not sorry to have time to breathe. - -"Thou art more than fair, citizen," said Amar, getting his breath. - -"Thanks," returned the marquis, coldly. "Make haste, Francois." - -Francois took up a lace handkerchief which lay beside Ste. Luce's coat -on the seat where he had cast his clothes. While Francois bound the -handkerchief around the head so as to stop the flow of blood, Amar -turned to his foe. - -"Citizen," said the Jacobin, "thou hast been a gallant man in this -matter. My life was thine to take. Let it end here. Thou art a brave -man and a good blade." - -Ste. Luce looked at him with an expression of amused curiosity. - -"What else?" - -"I will not have thee pursued--on my honor." - -"Tie it firmly, Francois. You have just heard, my Francois, of the last -Parisian novelty--a Jacobin's honor! Be so good as to hurry, Francois." - -Had the stern Jacobin felt some sudden impulse of pity or respect? In -all his after days he was unsparing, and certainly it was not fear which -now moved him. - -"As pleases thee," he said simply. Ste. Luce made no answer. Again -their blades met. And now the marquis changed his game, facing his foe -steadily, while Francois gazed in admiration. Ste. Luce's rapier was -like a lizard's movements for quickness. Twice he touched the man's -chest, and by degrees drove him back, panting, until he was against the -door. Suddenly, seeming to recover strength, the Jacobin lunged in -quarte, and would have caught the marquis fair in the breast-bone had he -not thrown himself backward as he felt the prick. Instantly he struck -the blade aside with his open left hand, and, as it went by his left -side, drove his rapier savagely through Amar's right lung and into the -panel of the door. It was over. Not ten minutes had passed. - -"_Dame!_" he cried, withdrawing his rapier, and retreating a pace or -two. "He was worth fighting." - -The Jacobin's face moved convulsively. He coughed, spattering blood -about him. His right arm moved in quick jerks. His sword dropped, and -stuck upright in the floor, quivering. - -"Dog of an aristocrat!" he cried. His distorted face twitched; he -staggered to left, to right, and at last tumbled in a heap, a massive -figure, of a sudden inert and harmless. - -[Illustration: "HE STAGGERED TO LEFT, TO RIGHT, AND AT LAST TUMBLED IN A -HEAP."] - -The marquis stood still and looked down at his foe. - -"What the deuce to do with him?" said Francois. - -"Take his head, and drag him into your room. We can talk then." - -"Will monsieur take his feet?" - -"What! _I_ touch the dog? No, not I." - -Francois did not like it; but making no reply, he dragged the Jacobin's -helpless bulk after him, and, once in his room, pulled the mattress off -the bed, and without roughness drew the man upon it. - -Amar opened his eyes, and tried to speak. He could not; the flow of -blood choked him. He shook his fist at Ste. Luce. - -"Cursed brute," cried Francois, "be still! He will begin to howl -presently. The sons of Satan are immortal." - -"We must gag him, Francois." - -"But he will die; he will choke. See how he breathes--how hard." - -"_Diable!_ it is he or I. Would he spare me, do you think? Don't talk -nonsense. Do as I tell you." - -Francois took up a towel. As he approached, Amar looked up at him. -There was no plea in his savage face. - -"Go on. What the deuce are you waiting for?" said Ste. Luce. - -"I cannot do it," said Francois. "End it yourself." - -"What! I? Strangle a dog! I! _Dame_! Let us go. What a fool you -are!" - -"Better go singly, then," said the thief. He had no mind to increase -his own risks by the dangerous society of the nobleman. - -Amar was silent. The handkerchief had fallen from his head, but the -wound bled no longer. - -"What shall I do with the handkerchief, monsieur?" - -"Do? Burn it. Faugh!" Francois cast it on the still glowing embers. -"Now my clothes and my cloak," said Ste. Luce; "and do not lose any time -over that animal." - -He washed off the little blood on his clothes, and dressed in haste, -saying: "Lucky that his point struck on my breast-bone. 'T is of no -moment. The fellow has left me a remembrance. I am sorry I did not -have the luck to kill him. Good-by, Francois. May we meet in better -days." He was gone. - -Francois locked the door after him, and went back to his room. He sat -down on the floor beside the mattress. - -"Now listen, Master Amar. Canst thou hear me? Ah, yes. Well, I have -saved thy life. Oh, thou wilt get well,--more 's the pity!--and do some -mischief yet. Now if I should kill thee I would be pretty safe. If I -go away, and send thee a doctor, I am a lost man. What is that thou art -saying? Ah!" and he leaned down to hear the broken whisper. "So thou -wilt have my head chopped off. Thou art less afraid than I would be, -were I thee. What shall we do, Toto?" and he laughed; somehow the -situation had for him its humorous side. - -"I can't murder a man," he said. "If ever I kill a man, I trust it may -be one who hath not thy eyes and thy one-sided grin. To be haunted by a -ghost like thee! The deuce! Not I! _Sac a papier_! I will take my -chance." He sat down, and wrote a short note to a surgeon on the -farther side of Paris, one whom he knew to have been much commended to -his pupils by Gamel. - -"My unforgiving friend," he said, "I shall lock thee in. Thou art too -weak to move, and to try will cause thee to bleed. This note will get -thee a surgeon in about six hours. I must leave thee. Be quiet, and be -good. Here is a flask of _eau-de-vie_. Art still of a mind to give thy -preserver to the guillotine?" The grim head nodded as the red froth -leaked out over the lips. "'Yes, yes,' thou sayest. Thou art in a fine -state of penitence. I hope we have seen the last of each other. One -more chance. Promise me not to be my enemy. I will trust thee. Come, -now." - -But the Jacobin was past speech. As Francois knelt beside him, he -beckoned feebly. - -"What is it?" As he bent lower, a grim smile went over the one movable -side of Amar's face, and, raising a feeble hand, he drew it across -Francois's neck. - -"_Mon Dieu!_" cried he, recoiling, "thou art ripe for hell. Adieu, my -unforgiving friend; and as thou hast no God, _au diable_, and may St. -Satan look after thee--for love of thy looks. Come, doggie!" He put -his pistols in the back of his belt, set his rapier in the belt-catch, -threw his cloak over all, and picked up his bag and knapsack. He took -one last look at Amar, and saying, "By-by, my angel," left him, locking -both doors as he went out. - -Francois passed into the street, followed by the black poodle. In the -Rue St. Honore he paid the boy of a butcher with whom Gamel dealt to -take his note when the midday meal should be over. And thus having -eased his conscience and regulated the business of life, he set out to -put between him and the Jacobin as many miles as his long legs could -cover. - - - - - *XIV* - -_Francois escapes from Paris and goes in search of a father. He meets a -man who has a wart on his nose, and who because of this is unlucky._ - - -He had been fortunate. Not more than an hour and a quarter had gone by -since Amar's entrance, and the mid-hour of breakfast had probably -secured them from intrusion of foe or friend. Francois, who knew Paris -as few men did, strode on through narrow streets and the dimly lighted -passages which afforded opportunity to avoid the busier haunts of men. -The barriers were carelessly guarded, and he passed unmolested into the -country. Once outside of the city, he took the highroad to Evreux, down -the Seine, simply because the passport of Jean Francois, juggler, -pointed to Normandy as his destination. Naturally a man of forethinking -sense, he had assumed that the village whence came Despard should be the -home of that father who was ill. He knew from his former partner enough -of the village to answer questions. It lay westward of Evreux. France -was then less full of spies and less suspicious than it became in the -Terror; and until he arrived at a small town on the north bank of the -Seine, not far from Poissy, he had no trouble. He saw no couriers. The -post went only once a week. He was safe, and, to tell the truth, merry -and well pleased again to wander. His money was sewed in his garments. -He wore his rapier under his cloak, but with it he carried the -conjurer's thin, supple blade, which, when he feigned to swallow it, a -spring caused to coil into the large basket-hilt. His pistols were -strapped behind him, and on his back he carried his knapsack and small -bag of juggling apparatus. Thus, clad in sober gray, with the tricolor -on his red cap and a like decoration on the poodle's collar, he was -surely a quaint enough figure. Long, well built, and wiry, laughing -large between his two wing-like ears, he held his way along the highroad -on the bank of the winding Seine. - -He avoided towns and people, camped in the woods, juggled and told -fortunes at farm-houses for a dinner, and, as I have said, had no -trouble until he came at midday to the hamlet of Ile Rouge. Here, being -tired, and Toto footsore, he thought he might venture to halt and sleep -at the inn. - -It was a little gray French town in the noonday quiet, scarce a soul in -sight, and a warmer sun than January usually affords on street and -steaming roof-tiles. Hostile dogs, appearing, seemed to consider Toto a -Royalist. Francois tucked him under his arm, and carelessly entered the -stone-paved tap-room of the "Hen with Two Heads." He repented too late. -The room was half full. One of the many commissioners who afterward -swarmed through France was engaged with the mayor of the commune. -Francois, putting on an air of humility, sought out the innkeeper, and -asked meekly to have a room. As he did so, a fat man in the red bonnet -of the Jacobins called out from the table where he sat, "Come here!" - -Francois said, "Yes, citizen," and stood at the table where this -truculent person was seated. - -He was sharply questioned, and his papers and baggage were overhauled -with small ceremony, while, apparently at his ease, he liberally -distributed smiles and the kindly glances of large blue eyes. At last -he was asked why he carried a sword; it was against the law. He made -answer that he carried two tools of his trade--would the citizen see? -And when he had swallowed two feet of his juggler's blade, to the wonder -of the audience, nothing further was said of the rapier. At last, -seeing that the commissioner still hesitated, he told, with great show -of frankness, whither he was going, and named Despard as one who would -answer for him. The mention of this name seemed to annoy the -questioner, who said Despard was a busy fellow, and was stirring up the -citizens at Musillon. He, Gregoire, was on his way to see after him. -He should like to make the acquaintance of that sick father, and, after -all, Francois might be an _emigre_. He must wait, and go with the -commissioner to Musillon. - -Francois smiled his best; and, when the citizen commissioner had done -with business, might he amuse him with a little juggling? Citizen -Gregoire would see; let him sit yonder and wait. After a few minutes -the great man's breakfast was set before him; the room was cleared, and -the citizen ate, while Francois looked him over. - -[Illustration: "HE HELD HIS WAY ALONG THE HIGHROAD."] - -Gregoire was a short, stout man with long hair, a face round, red, -chubby, and made expressionless by a button-nose, which was decorated -with a large rugose wart. The meal being over, he went out, leaving a -soldier at the door, and taking no kind of note of his prisoner. -Francois sat still. He was patient, but the afternoon was long. At -dusk Citizen Gregoire reappeared, and, as Francois noted, was a little -more amiable by reason of the vinous hospitality of the mayor. He sat -down, and ordered dinner. When it came, Francois said tranquilly: - -"Citizen Commissioner Gregoire, wouldst thou kindly consider the state -of my stomach? Swallowing of swords sharpens the appetite." - -The commissioner looked up from his meal. He was in the good-humored -stage of drunkenness. - -"Come and eat," he said, laughing. - -"He hath the benevolence of the bottle," thought Francois. "Let us -amuse him." - -The commissioner took off his red bonnet, poured out a glass of wine, -looked at a paper or two in his hand-bag, and set it on a seat near by, -while the juggler humbly accepted the proffered place. Then the poodle -was made to howl at the name of Citizen Capet, and to bark joyously at -the mention of Jacobins. Francois told stories, played tricks, and drank -freely. The commissioner drank yet more freely. Francois proposed to -make a punch,--a juggler's punch,--and did make a drink of uncommon -vigor. About nine the commissioner began to nod, and Francois, who had -been closely studying his face, presently saw him drop into a deep -slumber. The open bag looked tempting. He swiftly slipped a dexterous -hand into its contents, and feeling a wallet of coin, transferred it to -his own pocket. The temptation had been great, the yielding to it -imprudent; but there was no one else about, except the careless guard -outside the door. Francois concluded to replace the wallet; but at this -moment the great Gregoire of the committee woke up. "That was funny," he -said. "I did not quite catch the end of it." - -"No," said Francois; "the citizen slept a little." - -Gregoire became angry. - -"I--I asleep? I am on duty. I never sleep on duty." The citizen was -very drunk. He got up, and, staggering, set a foot on Toto's tail. The -poodle yelped, and the Jacobin kicked him. "_Sacree bete!_" The -poodle, unaccustomed to outrage, retorted by a nip at a fat calf. Then -the great man asserted himself. - -"Hallo, there! Curse you and your dog! Landlord! landlord!" The host -came in haste, and two soldiers. "Got a safe place? Lock up this -sc-scoundrel, and k-kill his dog!" The landlord kindly suggested a -disused wine-cellar. "Now, no delay. I'm Gregoire. Lock him up!" -Having disposed of the juggler, the citizen contrived to get out of the -room and to bed with loss of dignity and balance. - -A few minutes sufficed to set Francois in a chilly cellar, the poodle at -his heels; for no one took seriously the order to kill Toto. Of the two -soldiers, one, who was young and much amused, brought an old blanket, -and a lantern with a lighted candle set within it. Yes, the prisoner -could have his knapsack and bag--there were no orders; but he must give -up his sword. It was so dark that when Francois promptly surrendered -his juggler's blade it seemed to satisfy the soldiers; for who could -dream that a man would carry two swords? With a laugh and a jest, -Francois bade them to wake him early. He called to the young recruit, -as they were leaving, that he would like to have a bottle of wine, and -gave him sufficient small change to insure also a bottle for these -good-humored jailers. - -They took the whole affair as somewhat of a practical joke. All would -be well in the morning. When Gregoire was drunk he arrested everybody. -The young soldier would fetch the wine in an hour. Good night. - -Francois was alone and with leisure to consider the situation. - -"Attention, Toto!" he said. This putting of thought into an outspoken -soliloquy, with the judicial silence of the poodle to aid him, was -probably a real assistance; for to think aloud formulates conditions and -conclusions in a way useful to one untrained to reason. To read one's -own mind, and to hear one's own mind, are very different things. - -"Toto," he said, "we are in a bad way. Why didst thou bite that fat -beast's calf? It did thee no good, thou ill-tempered brute. 'T is not -good diet; a pound of it would make thee drunk. I shall have to whip -thee, little beast of an aristocrat, if thou dost take to nipping the -calves of the republic." - -Toto well knew that he was being scolded. He leaped up and licked the -thief's face. - -"Down, Citizen Toto! Where are thy manners? I like better Citizen -Gregoire drunk than Citizen Gregoire sober. How about my poor papa? -Oh, but I was an ass to name Despard. Didst thou observe that the -commissioner's eyebrows meet? And, Toto, he has a great wart on his -nose. 'T is a man will fetch ill luck. I knew a thief had a wart on -his nose, and he was broken on the wheel at Rouen. Besides, there was -the wallet. Toto, attention! Thou dost wander. It is all the doings -of that _sacre_ marquis. _A bas les aristocrates_! Let us inspect a -little." Upon this he pried about every corner, tried the heavy oaken -door, still gaily talking, and at last sat on an empty cask and -considered the grated window and the limited landscape dimly visible -between its four iron rods. The end of a woodpile, about four feet -away, was all that he could see. This woodpile set him to thinking. - -An hour later the young recruit returned with the wine. "I came to see -if thou wert safe," he said. "Like as not Gregoire will forget all about -thee to-morrow. Wine hath a short memory." - -Francois laughed. "_Le bon Dieu_ grant it. I can tell fortunes, but -not my own." And should he tell the citizen soldier's fortune? With -much laughter it was told, and the gifts of fateful time were showered -on the soldier's future in opulent abundance. He would be with the army -on the frontier soon. He would marry--_dame!_--a woman rich in looks -and lands. He would be a general one day. And this, oddly enough, came -true; for he became a general of division, and was killed the morning -after at Eylau. Seeing that this young man had agreeable fashions, the -thief ventured to express his thanks. - -"Monsieur--" he began. - -"Take care! _Mon Dieu!_ thou must not say that; 'citizen,' please. The -messieurs are as dead as the saints, and the devil, and the _bon Dieu_, -and the rest." - -As he did not seem displeased, Francois said: - -"Oh, thou art no Jacobin. Hast a _De_ to thy name?" - -This recruit's manners appeared to Francois a good deal like those of -the young nobles whom he had taught to fence. - -"What I was is of no moment," replied the young fellow. "The _De's_ are -as dead as the saints. I am a soldier. But, pardon me, the citizen may -be as frank as suits his appetite for peril. I have had my bellyful." - -"Frank? _Dame!_ why not? Up-stairs I was a Jacobin; down here I am a -Royalist. I was an aide in Gamel's fencing-school, and, _pardie!_ I -came away. Thou canst do me a little service." - -"Can I help thee, and not hurt myself? We--my people--are grown scarce -of late. I am the last; I take no risks." - -"There will be none. Bring me a little steel fork and a good long bit -of twine." - -"A fork! What for?" He had a lad's curiosity. - -"To eat with." - -"But there is nothing to eat." - -"Quite true. But it assists one's imagination; and, after all, there -may be to-morrow, and to eat with decency a fork is needed. A citizen -may use his bare paws, but a monsieur may not use the fingers of -equality. Thou wilt observe how the thought of these tools of luxury -reminds one of messieurs and the like." - -The lad--he was hardly over twenty--laughed merrily. "Thou art a -delightful companion. Gamel--thou didst say Gamel?" - -"I did, monsieur. Gamel that was the master of arms in the Rue St. -Honore." - -"My poor brother used to fence there. By St. Denis! thou must be -Francois!" - -"I am." - -"Then thou shalt have the tool of luxury. But, good heavens! take care. -Thou hast a tongue which--well, I have learned to bridle mine." - -"My tongue never got me into trouble; like my legs, it is long, and, -like them, it has got me out of a good many scrapes. I thank thee for -the warning. One knows whom to talk to. I can be silent. Oh, you may -laugh. I did not speak for a day after I first saw that juggler's tool, -the guillotine, in the sun on the Place de la Revolution. _Dieu!_ -behold there is a man that talks and laughs; and, presto, pass! there is -eternal silence." - -"_Ame de St. Denis!_ thou art not gay," cried the soldier. - -"_Tete de St. Denis_ were better. He was a fellow for these times--a -saint that could carry his head under his arm when it was chopped off." - -The young recruit laughed, but more uneasily. Not to laugh in some -fashion was among the impossibilities of life when this face-quake of -mirth broke out between those wing-like ears. - -He would fetch the tools, and, in fact, did so in a few minutes. Then -he bade Francois good night, and went away. As soon as he had gone, -Francois retired to a corner with his lantern to inspect the wallet. -There were three louis, a few sous, and no more. The risk was large, -the profit small. In an inner pocket was a thin, folded paper. When -opened it seemed to be a letter in due form, dated a month before, but -never sent. It was addressed to Citizen de la Vicomterie of the Great -Committee. Francois whistled. It was a furious attack on Robespierre -and Couthon, and an effort to sum up the strength which an assault on -the great leaders would command in the Convention--a rash document for -those days. Clearly the writer, whose full signature of Pierre Gregoire -was appended, had wisely hesitated to send it. - -"It seems to have been forgotten. Was he drunk, Toto? Surely now we -must get out and away. 'T is a letter of death; 't is a passport worth -many louis, Toto." He pulled off a shoe, folded the paper neatly, and -pulling up a tongue of leather on the inside sole, placed the letter -underneath, and put on the shoe again. He took the louis, threw the -wallet under a cask, and waited. - -When the house was still he set to work. He had found behind a barrel a -long staff used to measure the height of wine in casks. On the end of -this he tied securely, crosswise, the steel fork, and then began to -inspect the thin rods of the window, which were but ill fitted to guard -a man of resources. - -"Art still too fat?" he said, as he lifted Toto and managed to squeeze -him between the bars. After that he began to fish with his stick and -fork for a small log which had fallen from the woodpile and was just a -foot or two out of reach. Twice he had it, and twice it broke loose, -but now Toto understood, and, seizing the log, dragged it nearer. At -last Francois had the prize. The rest was easy. He set the log between -the thin bars, and threw on this lever all the power of one of the -strongest men in Paris. In place of breaking, the iron rod bent and -drew out of its sockets. A second proved as easy, and at last the -window-space was free. It seemed large enough. He concluded to leave -his bag; but the knapsack he set outside, and also his weapons and the -conjuring-balls. Next he stripped off most of his clothes, and laid -these too on the far side of the window. Finally his legs were through, -and his hips. But when it came to the shoulders he was in trouble. It -seemed impossible. He felt the poor poodle pulling at his foot, and had -hard work to restrain his laughter. "_Dame!_ would I grin at _Mere -Guillotine_? Who knows? How to shrink?" He wriggled; he emptied his -chest of air; he turned on his side; and, leaving some rags and a good -bit of skin on the way, he was at last outside. Here, having reclothed -himself, he broke up the wine-measurer and threw the fork over the wall. -In a few minutes he was on the highway, and running lightly at the top -of his speed. At dawn he found a farm-house which seemed to be -deserted--no rare thing in those days. He got in at a window, and -stayed for two days, without other food than the crusts he had carried -from the cellar. The night after, weak and hungry, he walked till dawn; -and being now a good ten leagues from that terrible commissioner, he -ventured to buy a good dinner and to get himself set over the Seine. -Somewhat reassured, he asked the way to Evreux, and, for once in his -life perplexed and thoughtful, went along without a word to Toto. - -He had been three weeks on the way, owing to his need to hide or to make -wide circuits in order to avoid the larger towns. It was now the -February of northern France, and there was sometimes a little snow, but -more often a drizzling rain. He had suffered much from cold; but as he -strode along, with a mind more at ease, he took pleasure in the -sunshine. A night wind from the north had dried the roads. It was -calm, cold in the shadows, deliriously warm on the sun-lit length of -yellow highway. He had lost time,--quite too much,--but he still hoped -to reach Musillon before that man with the wart arrived. If so, he -would see Despard, warn him as to Gregoire, and, with this claim, and -their old partnership, on which he counted less, he might get his -passport altered, and lose himself somewhere. If he had to remain in -the town, he must see, or be presumed to have seen, that sick father, -and must be promptly adopted if by cruel circumstances he became unable -to journey far enough from Paris to feel secure. The distorted face of -Amar haunted him--the man who, to save his own life, would not even make -believe to forgive. He had no power within him to explain a man like -Amar; and because the Jacobin was to him incomprehensible, he was more -than humanly terrible. What possessed that devil of a marquis to turn -up! And was he now at his chateau? And why had Achille Gamel set down -Normandy in the passport? And why had he himself been fool enough to -fill up the vacant place for the name of his destination with that of -the only small town he could recall in that locality? He had been in -haste, and now a net seemed to be gathering about him. He must go -thither, or take perilous chances. He was moving toward a fateful hour. - -"Toto," he said, "let us laugh; for I like not the face of to-morrow." - - - - - *XV* - -_How Francois finds Despard and has a lesson in politics, and of what -came of it._ - - -At evening he ventured to enter an inn at Soluce. A good bed and ample -diet restored his courage; but he learned that the citizen with a wart, -and an escort of a dozen soldiers, had passed the day before, on their -way to Bvreux. Would he remain there, this friendly commissioner? No -one knew. Evreux was Jacobin to the core. Then he thought of the -marquis; it was well to be informed. - -Yes; the Citizen Ste. Luce lived beyond Musillon. - -The citizen juggler declared that he had once been in his service, but -now that all men were equal, he could not lower the dignity of an -equalized nation by serving him longer. He learned that the chateau of -the marquis had not suffered, nor he, as he was never known to be -absent, and no one molested him. This did not surprise Francois. In -the South, at an earlier date, the peasants had burned hundreds of -chateaux, but these riots had been mercilessly put down. The Jacobins -meant to have peace in France, and at cost of blood, if that was -requisite. To have peace at home was essential to the success of -national defense on the frontier. In many parts of France, throughout -the whole of the Terror, very many large land-owners were undisturbed. -In fact, the Terror, and its precedent punishments, fell with strange -irregularity on the provinces. The Dukes de Bethune-Charost, de Luynes, -de Nivernais, and others who had not been active in politics, remained -unhurt on their estates. For the _emigres_ was reserved a bitter hatred. -Nor can we wonder at this result of the vast exodus which took place -from '89 to '91--"_l'emigration joyeuse_," as it was called by those who -carried off means enough to live gay lives in Brussels while their -country was in the convulsions of great social and political change. - -Francois made haste to leave at dawn, and by nightfall was close to the -town of Musillon. He found a wood road, and was soon deep in one of the -marquis's forests. In a quiet glade among rocks he put his effects in -security, and, charging Toto to guard them, set out to inspect the town. -The poodle did not like it. He ran back and forth, whining. - -"Oh, stop that!" cried Francois. "Go back! Dost thou hear?" - -Toto lay down, and set himself to secure what comfort the situation -afforded. - -Meanwhile Francois took to the main road until close to the village, and -then left it for the fields, cautiously nearing the town, a small place -of some twelve hundred souls. A monotonous double line of scattered -one-story stone houses lay along the highway. Avoiding the village, -Francois moved past and around the red-roofed Norman farm-houses which -lay off from the main highway. Mounds of earth set around the houses -walled in an orchard and an inclosure of many acres, so that, seen from -the exterior, they had the appearance of being fortified. The lights -were out, and Francois saw no one. Now and then a sentinel dog barked -as the wanderer went by the gateways, in wonder at this unusual style of -fence. At last he turned again toward the road. - -The town was quiet. It was after nine at night. Having purposely -lingered thus long, Francois approached the back of the inn, and became -sure that it was empty of guests. A little beyond it was the village -church, and as this was lighted, he approached it with care. The -crosses of the burial-ground were gone. He stumbled over graves, and at -last, standing on a tomb, got a fair glimpse of the interior of the -church, for many of its windows were broken. It was full of people, and -the murmur of noisy debate came to his ears. He felt that he must learn -what was going on. With this in view, he kept under the deep shadow of -the wall, and soon saw that the outer porch was crowded with men and -women, listening through the open door. Favored by the darkness, he got -unobserved into this mass of deeply occupied people, and was able at -last to catch a little of what was going on. Yes; this was the club of -Jacobins which his partner Despard had been sent to organize, one of the -hundreds which soon conquered and led opinion all through the provinces. - -He caught the usual denunciation of _emigres_ and of the _ci-devant_ -aristocrats. He had heard it all before; it did not help him. - -Very soon an elderly man in peasant dress arose near the door. He spoke -of something which they had considered as well to be done soon. He -thought it better to wait until Citizen Commissioner Gregoire arrived. -To arrest a _ci-devant_ aristocrat like Ste. Luce was of course proper; -but the people were excited, and might do mischief, and they knew that -the Great Committee did not approve of riots. France must have rest. -These outbreaks had ended elsewhere in the deaths of hundreds of -peasants. He bade them wait, and, in fact, spoke with rare good sense. -He was roughly interrupted. His speech was received with laughter and -contemptuous cries, and, to Francois's amazement, there was Despard on -his feet, not twenty feet away. His old partner was somber-looking and -red-eyed, but seemed to have lost his shyness of speech. He broke out -into violent invectives, charging the previous speaker with indifference -to the good of France. This man was no doubt a traitor. He had been in -the service of the _ci-devant_. He had advised the people to wait. -Were they not the rulers? The Jacobin clubs would see to this rat of a -commissioner; let him come. Then, leaping on a chair, he began to -contrast the luxury in which Ste. Luce lived with the meager life of the -peasant. He talked of the great noble's younger life, of his debauchery -and hardness. All knew what he meant. Not he alone had suffered. How -many of the children men liked to call their own were of noble blood? - -His fluent passion, his ease of speech, his apparent freedom from his -usual mood of fear, astonished Francois. At last Despard became more -excited, raved wildly, grew incoherent, paused, burst into horrors of -blasphemous allusion, and, utterly exhausted, reeled, and dropped into -his chair, amid wild applauding cries and a dozen vain efforts of -speakers eager to be heard. As if satisfied, the crowd waited no longer -to listen, and issued out in just the mood Despard had desired to -create. Francois stepped aside, unnoticed. Among the last, surrounded -by a gesticulating group, came Despard, silent, exhausted, his head bent -down. A voice cried out: "To-night! Let us do it to-night!" Despard -said slowly: "No, not to-night. He is not there--he is not there. -Perhaps to-morrow; we shall see. I must have rest--rest." - -"Is he mad?" thought Francois. "_Diable_! How he hates him! Why is he -not afraid?" He had once heard the choir-master tell of a feeble, timid -nun who had killed two people; and this man, he supposed, might be, like -her, crazed. No matter; he must use him. The crowd dispersed, and, -following Despard at a distance, Francois saw him enter the house of the -village priest, who had long since said his last prayer in the garden of -the Carmelites. - -For an hour, and until all was still, Francois walked to and fro behind -the house. Suddenly a door opened and closed. Francois moved around -the house. He saw Despard go out on the road. After looking about him, -the Jacobin walked swiftly away, and was soon past the farthest houses. - -"_Dame!_" said Francois, "let us go after him. What can he mean? It -becomes amusing." Moving with care in the shadows at the side of the -road, he followed Despard, who walked down the middle of the highway, -now and then stopping short and cracking his finger-joints, as he used -to do when worried, or clasping his hands over the back of his neck. - -The thief smiled as he went. He was again the savage of the streets, -with all his keen wits in play, and vaguely aware of pleasure in the use -of his training. He looked about him, or stole noiselessly from one -depth of gloom to another across some less shadowed place. He put out -with care one long leg and then the other tentatively, like great -feelers, and yet got over the ground with speed, as was required, for -Despard walked at a rate which was unusual. The great ears of his -pursuer were on guard. Once, when Despard stopped of a sudden, Francois -was near enough to hear him crack his knuckles as he pulled at them. As -Pierre stood, he threw up a hand as it were in the eager gesture of a -speech, or in silent, custom-born attestation of some mentally recorded -vow. Then he went onward, silent, and was for a moment lost to view in -the aisles of the forest into which he turned. Francois moved faster, -dimly seeing him again. The Jacobin hurried on. The man who followed -him was smiling in the darkness, and was feeding curiosity with the keen -satisfaction he felt in a chase which was not without a purpose. - -Despard seemed to know the great forest well. It soon became more open. -He came to a low garden wall, and, climbing it, was heard to tumble on -the farther side with a crash of breaking earthenware. He had come down -on a pile of garden pots. The thief reflected for a moment that his -partner must have lost the agility of his former business, and himself -approached the wall with care. Moving to one side, he dropped to the -ground, as quiet as a prowling cat. - -There was no moon, but the night was clear, and over against the -star-lit space he saw the silhouette of a vast chateau--angles, gables, -turrets with vanes. The man whom he hunted moved across the garden, -through rose-hedges, under trees, as if reckless as to being heard. -Once he fell, but got up without even an exclamation; and so on and on -in stumbling haste until he stood upon the broad terrace in front of the -building. - -Francois was for a little while at leisure to look about him. Despard, -with a sudden movement, strode to the foot of the broad steps which led -up to the lofty doorway of the chateau. Here again he stayed -motionless. Francois, now used to the partial obscurity of the night, -took quick note of the white gleam of vases, of a fountain's monotonous -murmur, of statues, dim gray blurs seen against the dark wood-spaces -beyond; the great size of the house he saw, and that three or four -windows showed lights within. - -What was Despard about to do? Francois waited. Then he heard now and -then, rising and falling, the faint notes of a violoncello. At this -moment he saw that Pierre was gesticulating, and at last caught sound of -speech. He was too far away to be clearly seen or distinctly heard. -Francois sat down, took off his shoes, tied them over his neck, and went -down on all fours. It was one of his old tricks to amuse thus the -children gathered before the show-booth. He could become a bear or an -elephant, and knew how to simulate the walk of beasts. Now he -approached Despard on his hands and feet, and, seen in the partial -gloom, would have seemed a queer-looking animal. A closely clipped row -of box lay between them and bordered the broad roadway leading to the -portal. - -His approach was noiseless. Even if it had not been, it is unlikely -that Despard would have noticed it. The quadruped knelt, and set his -eyes to see and his ears to hear, being now only six feet away. His own -fate was deeply involved. He cared little for the marquis, but up out -of the dark of memory came the tender sweetness of the face of the -widowed daughter. No word of her brief pleading was forgotten by this -man who craved regard, affection, respect, consideration--all that he -had not. It was only a flash of thought, and again he was intently -receptive. - -Despard stood, shaking his arms wildly, looking here and there, up and -down. At last he spoke, and so loud that Francois watched him, amazed -at his unnatural lack of caution. - -"To-morrow I, Pierre Despard, shall be master. I shall no more be -afraid. I shall see thee tremble on the tumbrel. I shall see thee -shudder at the knife." - -Francois had an uncontrollable shiver, predictive, sympathetic. Could -he trust this creature? There was no help for it. He recalled with a -smile one of the Crab's proverbs: "Monsieur Must is a man to trust." -She had many and vile sayings; this was one of the few that were not -swine-wisdom. - -As the man went on speaking, his hands threatened the silent house or -snatched at some unseen thing. He stood again moveless for a moment, and -then threw out his hands as if in appeal, and called aloud: "Renee! -Renee! art thou here? Oh, could he not have spared thee to me--to me, -who had so little? And he had so much! Oh, for the name he should have -spared thee! For the shame--the shame. Renee, his own child's name. My -Renee is dead, and his--his Renee lives; but not long--not long." - -"_Dieu!_" murmured Francois. "Let him have the man. _Dame_! I should -have killed him long ago." - -Pierre was raving, and was only at times to be understood. He seemed to -be seeing this lost Renee, and was now rational and again incoherent or -foolishly vague. - -Francois hesitated; but at this moment a window on the second floor was -cast open, and a man, who may have heard Despard, showed himself. -Francois looked up, and saw a slight figure framed in the window-space -clear against the light behind him. - -Despard cried out in tones of terror: "The marquis! the marquis!" and, -turning, fled down the terrace and along the avenue. - -"Queer, that," muttered Francois. "He is afraid. I must have him." He -put on his shoes in haste, and with great strides pursued the retreating -figure, hearing, as he ran, the servant crying from the window, "Who -goes there?" - -A hundred yards away from the house, Despard, terrified at the nearing -steps, turned into a side alley, and at last tore through a thicket to -the left. - -In an instant Francois had him by the collar. The captured man screamed -like a child in a panic of alarm, while Francois shook him as a terrier -shakes a rat. - -"_Mille tonnerres!_ idiot, keep quiet! Don't kick; it is no use. Thou -wilt have the whole house after thee. 'T is I--Francois. Keep quiet! -Look at me--Francois. Dost not hear?" At last he was quieted. - -"What scared thee, _mon ami_?" - -"I saw him--I saw the marquis! I saw him!" - -"Monsieur--the marquis? He is thrice that fellow's size." - -They were now seated on the ground, Despard panting, and darting quick -glances to right and left like a frightened animal. - -"Come, Pierre, tell me what all this means. Art gone clean out of thy -wits?" - -"Why dost thou ask? Thou dost know well enough. I have waited--waited. -Now I have him." - -"_Dame_! Thou? Thou wilt never face him. Thou art afraid." - -"I am now. I shall not be to-morrow night. There will be hundreds. I -shall look! I shall see!" - -"For Heaven's sake," cried Francois, "talk a little sense. A man who -fears a mouse to talk of killing this terrible fellow!" - -"The law will kill him, not I. The law--the knife." - -"Stuff! A certain commissioner, Gregoire, is after thee, and, worse, -after me. He hath a wart on his nose. I ran away to avoid those cursed -Jacobins. Passport all right--name of Jean Francois. Mind thee! My -father is old and failing. Thou wilt have to find me a papa. Gregoire -has--he has doubts, this Gregoire. So have I. When I told him you were -my friend, he shut me up in a cellar, and that I liked not. I was a -fool to run away; but, _mon Dieu!_ there was my errand--to see that poor -father--all set out on my passport, and the man with the wart -inquisitive. I had to get here and find my papa." - -Another man's difficulties took off Pierre's mind from his own. He was -clear enough now, and asked questions, some hard to answer, but all -reasonable. - -Francois related his story. The fencing-master had fallen under -suspicion and run away. He, Francois, likewise suspected, had got a -passport from a Jacobin fencing-pupil, and come hither to fall on the -neck of his dear friend Pierre. It was neat, and hung together well. -It had many omissions, and as a whole lacked the fundamental quality of -truth, but it answered. When a man's head is set to save his head, it -may not always be desirable to be accurate. - -Pierre reflected; then he cried out suddenly: "This Gregoire! That for -him! Let him take care. Art thou still a Royalist?" - -Francois was a Jacobin of the best, unjustly suspected. He was eager to -know what deviltry was in Pierre's mind as to this marquis; and there, -too, was the daughter. If he meant to stir these peasants to riot in -order to gratify himself and his well-justified hatred, that might sadly -influence Francois's fate. The central power in Paris was merciless to -lawless violence which did not aid its own purposes. - -Francois talked on and on slackly, getting time to think. Pierre's -speech had troubled him. He was puzzled as he saw more distinctly the -nature of the man whom he was forced to trust. He did not analyze him. -He merely apprehended and distrusted one who was to-day a shrinking -coward and to-morrow a man to be feared less for what he might do than -for what he might lead others to do when himself remote from sources of -immediate physical fear. Francois did not--could not--fully know that -he was now putting himself in the power of one who was the victim of -increasing attacks of melancholy, with intervals of excitement during -which the victim was eagerly homicidal, and possessed for a time the -recklessness and the cunning of the partly insane. - -"Come," said Francois, at last; "you must hide me until you can find me -that papa, or until Citizen Gregoire has come and gone. I like him -not." - -"Nor I," said Pierre. "But let him take care; I am not a man to be -played with." - -Francois said he should think not, but that if he meditated an attack on -that miserable _ci-devant_ yonder, it were better to wait until Gregoire -had come and gone. - -This caution seemed to awaken suspicion. Pierre turned, and caught -Francois's arm. "Thou art a spy--a spy of the Convention!" - -"Thou must be more fond of a joke than was once thy way. Nonsense! I -could go back and warn the marquis. That would serve the republic, and -well, too; for, by Heaven! if thou art of a mind to burn houses, -Robespierre will shorten thee by a head in no time." - -"Who talks of burning houses? Am I a fool? I--Despard?" - -"No, indeed. Thou--" Francois needed the man's help, and felt that he -was risking his own safety. He must at least seem to trust him. "Dost -thou mean to arrest Ste. Luce?" - -"I do." - -"But when?" - -"Oh, in a day or two; no hurry." - -Francois knew that he was hearing a lie. "Good," he said. "But I -advise thee against violence." - -"There will be none. I control these people. Thou shouldst see; thou -shouldst hear me speak." - -"Let us go," said Francois, and they returned to the village without a -word on either side. The hamlet was quiet. At the priest's door -Francois said: "Wait for me. I must fetch my bundle and Toto. I left -them in the wood." Pierre would wait. In an hour his ex-partner came -back, and before he could knock was admitted by the anxious Jacobin. - -When they were within the house, he told Francois that he lived alone. -An old woman cooked for him, and came in the morning and went away at -dusk. He, Francois, should have the garret; and, this being settled, -they carried thither cold meats, bread, cheese, wine, and water, so as -to provision the thief for a few days. There would be time to talk -later. Francois asked a single question, saying frankly that he had -heard Pierre speak to his club. Certainly he had power over the people. -What was it he had meant to do, and when? Despard hesitated. Then the -cunning of a crumbling mind came to his aid, and he replied lightly: - -"We shall wait till Gregoire has gone. I told thee so already. Thy -advice was good. I do not know. We shall see--we shall see." The door -closed after him. The man, descending the stair, paused of a sudden, -the prey of suspicion. Why did Francois come hither? Was he a spy of -the marquis--of the Convention? He feared Francois. To one in his -state of mind little obstacles seem large, great obstacles small. He -must watch him. He was in his power. - -The man left within the room was not less suspicious. He hung a cover -over the single window, locked the door, and lay down, with Toto at his -feet, and at his side his rapier and pistols. He slept a tranquil -sleep. Most of the next day he sat at the window, watching through a -slit in the curtain the street below him. People came and went; groups -gathered about the desecrated church; there was much excitement, but he -could hear nothing. At dusk he saw a number of men, some with sticks -and pikes, come toward the priest's house. Owing to his position, he -lost sight of them as they came nearer, but from the noise below he -presumed them to have entered. He was, for many reasons, indisposed to -remain uninformed. He waited. The noise increased. Pierre had not come -to visit him, as he had said he would; and where was that much-desired -father? He laughed. "Ah, Toto, one must needs be his own papa." He -had gone about all day in his stocking-feet to avoid being overheard. -Now he bade Toto be quiet, and, opening the door, went cautiously down -the stone stairway. It was quite dark. On the last landing he stood, -intently listening. The hallway below was full of men, and evidently -the two rooms on the ground floor were as crowded. He overheard -Despard's voice, angry and strenuous. The words he could not catch, but -the comments of those in the wide hall were enough. The commissioner -was coming, and would interfere. Despard was right. The marquis was -about to fly, to emigrate. He must be arrested. They poured out, -shouting, tumultuous, to join the excited mob in the street. - -Francois went quickly up the stair. He cared little for the marquis, -but he cared much for the pale lady whose face was stamped in his -memory. Moreover, all this ruin and threatened bloodshed were not to -his mind. A day's reflection had enabled him to conclude that, between -Gregoire and Despard, the situation was perilous, and that he had better -disappear from the scene. Meanwhile he would warn the marquis, and then -go his way. - -He put on his shoes, took his bundle, his arms, and Toto, and, with his -cloak on his shoulder, slipped quietly down-stairs. The house was -empty. He went out the back way unseen, observing that the church was -lighted, and seeing a confused mass of noisy peasants about the door. - - - - - *XVI* - -_How Francois warns the Marquis de Ste. Luce, and of the battle on the -staircase between the old day and the new._ - - -It was now close to nine, and again a bright, cold, starry night. A -long circuit brought him to the highroad. A mile away he struck into a -broad avenue, and, never pausing, pushed on. His sense of locality was -acute and like that of an animal. Once or twice he was sure that he -heard dull noises behind him when the sharp night wind blew from the -village.' - -"Ah, Toto," he murmured, "keep thou close to heel. This is our greatest -adventure. I would we were out of it. Ah, the chateau!" He ran across -the flowerbeds, and with long leaps up the steps, and sounded a strong -summons on the knocker of the great door. A servant opened it. "Where -is the marquis?" What the man said he did not wait to hear. The lofty -hall was dark, but the principal staircase was lighted faintly from -above. Without a word, Francois hurried past the servant and up the -stairs. From the broad landing he saw beyond him a lighted -drawing-room, and heard the notes of a violoncello. There was the -woman, pale and beautiful, in black, her face upturned, the boy holding -before her a sheet of music. The human richness of the cello's tones -sounded through the great chamber. Where had he seen the like? Ah, -that picture in the vestry of Notre Dame--the face of St. Cecilia! He -had a moment of intense joy at having come. Till then he had doubted if -it were wise. As he stood, the marquis came toward him quickly from the -side of the room, and two gentlemen left a card-table and started up. - -Francois went in at once, meeting the marquis within the room. The -music ceased; the woman cried, "_Mon Dieu!_" Every one stared at this -strange figure. - -"What is it, my man? _Venire St. Gris!_ 't is my thief! This way," and -he led him aside into a little room, while the rest, silent and -troubled, looked after them. - -"Monsieur, to waste no words, these cursed peasants are on their way to -do here what mischief the devil knows. It is you they want. There is a -fool, one Despard, who leads them. But, _Dieu!_ there is small time to -think." - -Francois, breathless, panting, stood looking about him, now as always -observant, and curious as to this wonderful room and this impassive -gentleman. Toto, as well blown as his master, recognizing the value of -a soft rug, dropped, head on legs, meaning to have at least the minute's -luxury and rest. - -The marquis stood still in thought a moment. "I am greatly obliged to -you; and this is twice--twice. I expected trouble, but not so soon. -Come this way." - -Francois followed. Toto kept one eye on him, and slept with the other. -As they reentered the great salon, the two gentlemen and Mme. Renee, all -visibly agitated, came to meet them. "What is it?" they asked. The -marquis forestalled further inquiry. - -"My daughter, our kindly peasants will be here in an hour--no, half an -hour, or less. Resistance is useless. To fly is to confess the need to -fly; it is not to my taste. You gentlemen are better out of this. Go -at once--at once!" - -"Yes, go!" said madame. "You cannot help us, and can only make bad -worse." - -They wasted no time, and few words passed. The little drama played -itself quickly. - -"Adieu, madame!" Madame courtesied. The boy walked over and stood by -his grandfather. He looked up at his clear-cut face, with its cold -smile, and then at the backs of the retiring gentlemen. He had a boy's -sense of these being deserters. They were gone in hot haste. - -Mme. Renee came nearer. "We thank you--I thank you"; and she put out -her hand. Francois took it awkwardly. A touch of the hand of this -high-bred, saintly lady, _grande dame_ and true woman, singularly -disturbed the man. The tremor of a strange emotion ran over him. He -let fall the soft hand, and drew himself up to the full of his unusual -height, saying: "It is little--very little." - -"And now you must go," she said; "and at once." - -"Of course--of course," said Ste. Luce. "Out the back way. Victor will -show you." There were no further thanks. All such common men had -served the great noble; it seemed of the nature of things. But the woman -said: - -"God protect you! God will know to thank you. I cannot fitly. Go--go!" - -"I do not mean to go," said Francois. "Hark! it is too late." He knew -not then, or ever, why he stayed. The boy looked up at him. Here was -another kind of man, and not a gentleman, either. Why did he not go? - -An old majordomo came with uncertain steps of nervous haste, crying: -"The servants are gone, monsieur! The people are coming up the avenue! -_Mon Dieu!_" - -"Indeed! Now be off with you, Master Thief." - -"No." His head said, "Go"; his heart said, "Stay." - -"By St. Denis, but you are a fool!" - -Francois muttered that he had been that always, and then felt the hand -of the boy touch his own. He called: "Toto! Toto! We will stay." And -the dog, at ease in all society, selected a yet softer rug. - -The marquis troubled himself no further as to Francois. He went out of -the room, and was back in a minute, while the uproar increased, and Mme. -Renee, at the window, pleaded with the thief, urging him to fly, or -cried: "They are coming! Oh, a crowd--a mob--with torches and arms! -The saints protect us! Why will you not go? Oh, _mon pere_--father! -thou hast thy rapier. What canst thou against hundreds--hundreds?" - -The marquis smiled. "_Costume de rigueur_, my dear. There will be no -bloodshed, my child." - -"And they will all run," cried the boy. "And if grandpapa has to -surrender, he must give up his sword. When my papa was taken in -America, he had to--" - -"Hush!" said the mother. The lad was singularly outside of the tragic -shadows of the hour. - -Francois all this while stood near the window, his cloak cast back, his -queer, smile-lit face intent now on the mob without, now on the woman, -the boy, the man. "_Dame!_" he muttered. "We are in dangerously high -society." He set his knapsack aside, cast off his cloak, loosened his -rapier in its sheath, looked to the priming of his pistols, and waited -to see what would happen when this yelling thing out yonder should burst -into action. - -"They must have made mad haste, madame." - -"They are on the terrace. Mother of Heaven!" cried the woman. "They -wait! A man is speaking to them. They have torches. Some go--some go -to right around the house." A stone splintered the window-glass, and -she fell back. "Wretches!" - -The marquis turned to her. "Stay here. I go to receive our guests." - -"No, no!" - -"Do as I tell thee. Be still." She caught the boy to her, and fell -into a chair, sobbing. The marquis called to the quaking majordomo: -"Take those two candelabra. Set them at the foot of the staircase--the -foot." The old servant obeyed without words. The marquis went by him. -He seemed to have forgotten Francois, who glanced at Mme. Renee and -followed the master of the house. - -There had been a moment's lull outside. The double stairway swept down -to a landing, and then in one noble descent to the great deserted hall, -where the faded portraits of lord and lady looked down among armor and -trophies of war and chase. - -"Put those lights there--and there. Get two more--quick! Set them on -the brackets below. One must see. Put out the lights in the -drawing-room. What, you here yet, Master Thief? What the devil are you -doing here? The deuce!" As he spoke they were standing together on the -broad landing, before them the great stair which led down to the -illuminated hall below. The marquis had meant to meet these people -outside; he was quiet, cool, the master of many resources. Surprised at -the suddenness of the outbreak, he still counted, with the courage of -habit, on his personal influence and address. As the marquis spoke, the -roar without broke forth anew. A shower of stones clattered on door and -wall and window with sharp crash and tinkle of breaking glass. It was -followed by an indescribable tumult--shouts, laughter, the shrill voices -of women, a multitudinous appeal to fear, ominous, such as no man could -hear unmoved. The animal we call a mob was there--the thing of moods, -like a madman, now destructive, now as a brute brave, now timid as a -house-fly. - -They beat on the great doors, and of a sudden seemed to discover that -the servants, in flying, had not secured them. The doors gave way, and -those in front were hurled into the hall by the pressure of those -behind. In an instant it was half full of peasants armed with all -manner of rude weapons. A dozen had torches of sheep's wool wrapped -about pitchforks and soaked with tar. Their red flames flared up, with -columns above of thick smoke. There were women, lads. None had -muskets. Some looked about them, curious. Those without shouted and -pressed to get in; but this was no longer easy. A few of the boldest -began to move up the lower steps of the great staircase. At the landing -above, in partial obscurity, stood the marquis and Francois. On the -next rise behind them were Mme. Renee and her boy, unnoticed, unwilling -to be left alone. The stairway and all above it were darker than the -red-lighted hall, where ravage was imminent. A man struck with a -butcher's mallet a suit of armor. It rang with the blow, and fell with -clang and rattle, hurting a boy, who screamed. The butcher leaped on -the pedestal and yelled, waving one of the iron gauntlets. They who -hesitated, leaderless, at the foot of the dark ascent turned at the -sound of the tumbled past. - -The marquis cried aloud, "Halt, there!" - -Some mischievous lad outside cast a club at the side window of the hall, -and the quartered arms of Ste. Luce, De Rohan, and their kin fell with -sharp, jangling notes on the floor and on the heads of the crowd. - -"Halt, I say!" The voice rang out of the gloom, strong and commanding. -The marquis's sword was out. "Draw, my charming thief. _Morituri te -salutant_!" - -"What?" cried Francois--"what is that?" - -"Nothing. We are about to die; that is all. Let us send some couriers -to Hades. You should have gone away. Now you are about to die." - -Francois drew his long rapier. He was strangely elated. "We are going -to die, Toto." The dog barked furiously. "Keep back!" cried his -master. Then he heard Pierre Despard's shrill voice cry out: "Surrender, -Citizen Ste. Luce, or it will be worse for thee." The mob screamed: -"Despard! Despard!" He was hustled forward, amid renewed shouts, -cries, crash of falling vases, and jangling clatter of broken glass. -The reluctant leader tried to keep near to the door. The mob was of -other mind. He was thrust through the press to the foot of the stair, -with cries of "Vive Despard! Vive Despard!" The people on the stair, -fearing no resistance, were pushed up, shouting, "_A bas les emigres!_" - -"Now, then!" cried the marquis. "Get back there, dogs!" The two blades -shot out. A man fell; another, touched in the shoulder, screamed, and -leaped over the balustrade; the rest fell away, one man on another, with -shrieks and groans. Francois caught a lad climbing on the outside of -the gilded rail, and, with a laugh, threw him on the heads of those -below. A joy unknown before possessed the thief--the lust of battle, the -sense of competency. He took in the whole scene, heart, mind, and body -alive as never before. - -"_Sang de St. Denis_! You are a gallant man. But we are lost. They -will be on our backs in a moment; I hear them." Amid a terrible din, -stones and sticks flew. A pebble struck the marquis in the face. -"_Dame!_" he cried, furious, and darted down a step or two, the quick -rapier mercilessly stabbing here and there. One madder than the rest -set a torch to a priceless tapestry. It flared up, lighting the great -space and the stair, and doing in the end no harm. Despard, terrified, -was pushed forward to the edge of the fallen bodies on the staircase. - -"Surrender!" he called out in a shriek of fear, for here before him were -the two men he most dreaded on earth. The noise was indescribable. The -butcher beat with the iron gauntlet on a shield beside him; then he -threw the steel glove at Francois. It flew high. There was a cry from -the space behind. The little boy screamed shrilly, "They have killed my -mama!" - -Francois looked behind him. There was now light enough, and too much. -He saw the woman lying, a convulsed, tumbled heap, on the stair. The -marquis glanced behind him, and lost his cool quietude. He ran down the -stair, stabbing furiously. A half-dozen dead and wounded lay before -him. In an instant he was back again beside Francois, his face bleeding -from the stones and sticks thrown at him. Francois was standing, tall -and terrible in his anger, a pistol in his hand. - -"Shall I kill him, monsieur?" - -"By Heaven, yes!" - -The pistol resounded terribly in the vaulted space, and the brute who -had thrown the gauntlet, swaying, screamed shrilly, and tumbled--dead. - -"Give me your hand!" cried the marquis. "Thank you, monsieur; the devil -hath a recruit. Now follow me. Let us kill and die. To hell with this -rabble!" - -"Wait," cried Francois, and, running down the steps, put out a long arm -and caught Despard. He hauled him savagely after him, calling out, -"Hold the stair a moment!" In an instant he was on the landing above, -with his prey. His sword he let fall, and set a pistol to Despard's -head. The terror of the trapped Jacobin was pitiful. He prayed for -life. He would let them all go; he would--he would. Francois swung him -round to face the suddenly silenced mob. "Keep still, or I will scatter -your brains, fool! Tell them to go! Tell them to go, or, _sang de -Dieu!_ thou art a dead man!" - -Pierre screamed out his orders: "Go--go--all of you. I order--go!" - -The beast he had trained and led was of no such mind. A man called out, -"Die like a man, coward!" A stone or two flew. One struck him. The -storm broke out anew. - -"Say thy prayers. Thou art dead. Shall I kill him, monsieur?" - -"No, no; not that man--not him!" - -"Mercy!" screamed Despard. - -"The deuce!" laughed Francois. "It gets warm, monsieur. What to do -with this coward? Keep still, insect!" - -The mob had for a little time enough of these terrible swordsmen on the -stair. It was awed, helpless. Below lay, head down or athwart, three -dead men, and certain wounded, unable to crawl. The mob shrank away, -and, with eyes red in the glare, swayed to and fro, indecisive, -swearing. For a moment no more missiles were thrown. They awaited the -expected attack from the rear of the house. - -Pierre hung, a limp, inert thing, one arm on the balustrade, the thief's -strong clutch on his neck, making his shivering bulk a shield against -stick and stone. - -"It will soon be over," said the marquis, quietly. "There! I thought -so." - -A dull roar was heard, and the crash of broken glass from somewhere -behind them. - -This signal set loose the cowed mob. Clubs and stones flew. Something -struck Pierre. He squealed like a hurt animal, pain and terror in the -childlike cry. More men crowded in, and the mass, with shout and cry, -surged forward, breaking mirrors and vases, with frantic joy in the -clatter of destruction. - -"It is serious this time," cried the marquis. "Adieu, my brave fellow." -Another tapestry flared up, slowly burning. "Let us take toll, -Francois. Come!" - -"Good, monsieur! But my fool here--" - -At this moment the crowd at the door divided. A dozen soldiers broke -in, and with them the man of the wart--Gregoire. - -"_Dame!_" cried Francois; "the Commissioner Gregoire! The wart! It is -time to leave." - -"Order, here," shouted Gregoire, "in the name of the law!" The guard -pushed in and made a lane. One or two persistent rioters were collared -and passed out. A dead silence fell on all. The shreds of the tapestry -dropped. The mob fell back. - -"Help! help!" cried Pierre. - -"_Morbleu!_ dost thou want to die?" - -"It is over," said the marquis. "I prefer my peasants." - -Gregoire called out, "Where is the mayor?" A reluctant little man -appeared. - -"Commissioner, these men have slain citizens," he said. - -"And they did well. France wants order. Out with you all, or I shall -fire on you. Citizens indeed! See to that stuff burning." - -The peasants, awed, slunk away. Gregoire coolly mounted the stairs. - -"Hold!" cried the marquis. - -"I arrest thee in the name of the law! Here is my order." - -The marquis took it. - -"The light is bad," he said; "but I see it is in good form. The law I -obey--and muskets"; and then, in a half-whisper to Francois: "Run! run! -I will hold the stairs." - -Gregoire overheard him. - -"The citizen _emigre_! I arrest him!" and he went up a step. - -"Back!" cried the marquis, lunging fiercely at the too adventurous -commissioner, who leaped down the stairway with the agility of alarm. - -"Fire!" he cried. - -"Thanks, monsieur; I can help you no more!" cried Francois. As he -spoke, he hurled the unhappy Despard on top of the commissioner. They -fell in a heap. The thief, catching up his rapier, was off and away -through the drawing-room, seeing, as he went, the woman lying on the -floor, her forehead streaming blood. He picked up his cloak and -knapsack, and, followed by Toto, ran for his life down a long corridor -to the left. At the end, he threw open a window, and dropped, with the -dog under his arm, upon the roof of a portico over a side door. No one -was near. He called the dog, and fled through the gardens and into the -woods of the chase. - - - - - *XVII* - -_Of how Francois, escaping, lives in the wood; of how he sees the -daughter of the marquis dying, and knows not then, or ever after, what -it was that hurt him; of how he becomes homesick for Paris._ - - -The forest was of great extent, and intersected by wood roads. Along -one of these Francois ran for an hour or more, until he was tired, and -had put, as he believed, some miles between himself and the citizen with -the wart. The way became more narrow, the forest more dense. At last -there was only a broad path. Now and then he saw the north star, and -knew that he was traveling southward. He came out at dawn on an open -space, rocky and barren, a great rabbit-warren, as he knew by the sudden -stampede of numberless rabbits. He turned aside into the woods, and a -few hundred yards away found a bit of marsh, and beyond it a brook, with -leaf-covered space beneath tall plane-trees, now bare of foliage. He -drank deep of the welcome water, and sat down with Toto to rest and -think. - -"_Mon ami_," he said, "we like adventures; but this was a little too -much." Then he laughed at the thought of Pierre's terror; but the man -with the wart was not so funny, and the poor lady who was St. Cecilia, -and that cold-blooded devil of a marquis--"What a man!" - -Here were rabbits for food, and only a forest bed, but, on the whole, -better than the Conciergerie or the Chatelet. He slept long, and was -cold, fearing to make a fire. About eleven next morning he left Toto, -and went with care to the edge of the wood. He heard noises, and saw -boys setting traps; for now my lord's rabbits were anybody's rabbits. -The traps pleased him. He slipped away. At evening, being dreadfully -hungry, he went to the warren, took two rabbits out of the traps, and -went back. The man's patience was amazing: not until late at night did -he make a fire to cook his meat; but Toto, less exacting, was fed at -once with the raw flesh. - -A week went by, with no more of incident than I have mentioned. He -explored the woods day after day, and a half-mile away found a farm, -whence at night he took toll of milk, having stolen a pail to aid him. -It was all sadly monotonous, but what else could he do? Once, after a -fortnight, he was bold enough to wander in daylight within the woods -near the chateau. It was apparently deserted; at least, he saw no signs -of habitation; nor, later at night, when he went back, were there -lights, except in one room on the ground floor. - -Francis approached with caution, and, looking through a window, saw an -old man seated by the fire. Making sure that he was alone, the wanderer -tapped on the pane. The man at the hearthside looked up, and Francois -saw, as he had suspected, that he was the majordomo. Again Francois -tapped, and observing the inmate move toward the door, he hurried -thither. As they met, Francois hastened to say that he was the man who -aided the marquis, having himself had the luck to escape. Once -reassured, the old majordomo urged Francois to enter. But this he would -not do. He had had enough of house-traps. In the forest they would be -secure. To this the servant agreed, and followed him at once. When at -last in the woodland shelter, Francois asked: "What of the marquis?" He -had been taken by Gregoire toward Paris, but was said to have made his -escape. "A hard man to hold is my master; and as to the village, it has -had to pay right dearly, too." Pierre had been arrested, but was soon -set free. And the little gentleman? He had been taken to a cousin's -house in eastern Normandy. Francois hesitated over his final question; -he himself could not have told why. - -[Illustration: "THE WANDERER TAPPED ON THE PANE."] - -"And Mme. Renee?" he exclaimed, and bent forward, intent. - -"The countess?" - -"I did not know. Is she a countess? Mme. Renee--what of her?--she who -was hurt. I passed her; she lay on the upper stair. There was -blood--blood. The little boy cried to me to help her. My God! I could -not. I--tell me, was she badly hurt?" - -"She is dying, monsieur. Something--a gauntlet, they say--struck her -head. She has known no one since." - -"Where is she?" - -"In the chateau, with a maid and her aunt. She was too ill to be taken -away. She is dying to-night. They say she cannot last long. God rest -her soul! 'T is the end of everything." - -The thief stood still a minute; then he said resolutely, "I must see -her." This the old servant declared impossible; but when Francois swore -that he would go alone, he finally consented to show him the way, -insisting all the time that he would not be let in. - -In a few minutes they were moving down a long corridor on the second -floor. All was dark until the majordomo paused at a door under which a -line of light was to be seen. Here he knocked, motioning his companion -to keep back a little. The door opened, and a gaunt middle-aged lady -came forth. - -"What is it?" she said. - -"This man--this gentleman would see the countess." - -"What do you want?" she said, facing Francois. "My niece is -dying--murdered. You have done your cruel work. Would you trouble the -dead?" - -"Madame," said Francois, "I am he who held the stair with the marquis. -I am no Jacobin. I shot the man who wounded the countess." - -"You! He is dead." - -"Thank God! May I see the lady?" - -"She is dying; why should you see her?" - -"Madame, I am a poor unhappy thief. Once this lady offered me help--a -chance, a better life. I was a fool; I let it go by. I--let me see -her." - -"Come in," said the gentlewoman; and, with no more words, he entered -after her, and approached the bed, leaving his dog outside. What he -beheld he neither forgot nor, I believe, save in his memoirs, ever spoke -of to any one. - -He saw a white face on the pillow; a deep-red spot on each cheek; eyes -with the glaze of swift-coming death. He fell on his knees beside her, -and stayed motionless, watching the sweat on the brow, the breath -quicken and then stop as if it would not come again. At last he touched -the hand. It was cold, and he withdrew his own hand, shrinking back. -He had seen death, but no death like this. He said, "Madame." There -was no answer. He looked up at the older woman. "She is dying; she -does not hear." - -[Illustration: "HE SAW A WHITE FACE ON THE PILLOW."] - -"No; nor ever will in this world." - -He turned, bent down, and kissed the fringe of the coverlet. Then he -arose, shaken by the strongest emotion life had brought to him. - -"I thank you," he said, and moved to the door. He paused outside. - -"Are you sure the beast is dead--the man who did that--that?" - -"Yes." - -"I am sorry--sorry." He shook his long arms in the air. "I should like -now to kill him again--again!" He walked swiftly away, and, not waiting -for the servant, left the house and found his way back to his forest -shelter. - -All night long he sat without a fire, indifferent to poor Toto's efforts -to get a little notice, not feeling the cold, a sorely wounded man, with -a scar on his memory which no after happiness could ever erase. - -The next night he found the majordomo, and learned that the countess was -dead. He took away blankets and the provisions bountifully supplied, -and once more rejoined his dog. - -In this manner the last days of February were passed; and in March the -spring began to appear, but with it a new peril. The woodmen went here -and there at work, and thrice he narrowly escaped being seen. Early in -April his friend the majordomo disappeared, and the great chateau was -infested with men who came and went--for what he knew not. - -He began to be troubled with a feverish desire to see the streets of -Paris. At last he made up his mind to leave his forest shelter; and -sometime in April, having hesitated long, he set out. He hid all day in -woods, and walked at night, until he reached the Seine. With this as a -guide, he went on, robbing hen-houses of eggs, and milking cows, until -he was close to Paris. How to enter it he did not know. The times were -doubly dangerous. Spies and suspicion were everywhere to be dreaded. -His papers had no certifications from the places he was presumed to have -visited. Formidable in the background he saw the man Gregoire, the -commissioner with the wart of ill luck. - -How the thief and his dog lived near to Paris in woods and fields, there -is no need to tell in detail. The month of June was come in this year of -1793. Marat was ill, and Charlotte Corday on her way to forestall the -decree of nature. La Vendee was up. The Girondists had fallen, the -great cities of the South were in uproar, the enemy was on the frontier, -and the rule of France in the competent and remorseless hands of the -Committee of Public Safety. All around Paris the country was infested -with wandering people who, for the most part, like Francois, had good -reason to fear. There were beggars, thieves, persecuted nobles, those -who had no mind to face the foe as volunteers. Now and then Francois, -ever cautious, picked up a little news on a scrap of gazette found by -the wayside. He read that Citizen Amar was of the Great Committee of -General Security. Francois laughed. - -"Toto, dost thou think this will add to thy master's security? That was -the gentleman with the emigrative mouth. _Ami_, he is still alive. -They must be tough, these Jacobins. What fun, Toto! I can see him -pinned to the door like a beetle, and that marquis with a face, Toto, -like a white plaster cast those Italians used to sell. - -"I like not M. Amar. Toto, we are unhappy in our acquaintances. But -the man of the wart is the worst." This was Francois's black beast; -why, he could not have said. Amar, _le farouche_, was really a more -fatal foe. The citizen who dressed neatly, and wore spectacles over -green eyes, and was in debt to the conjurer for a not desirable forecast -of fortune, was a yet more sinister acquaintance. Yet it was Citizen -Gregoire who came to Francois in dreams, and the bare thought of whom -could chop short a laugh as surely as Mother Guillotine, the merciless. - - - - - *XVIII* - -_Wherein is told how Francois reenters Paris, and lodges with the Crab; -and of how Toto is near to death by the guillotine. Francois meets -Despard and the marquis, who warns him and is warned._ - - -A few days later, when lying behind a deserted hut at dusk, Francois -heard a noise of military music, and ventured forth on the road leading -to the barrier. Many hundreds of the wounded from the frontier were -passing, in wagons or on foot. The communes and clubs were out to meet -them. The cabarets outside of the gate poured forth a noisy company. -The road was full. Who should stop the free citizens or the ladies of -the fish-market, come to welcome patriot volunteers? Here was an escort -of troops, wild, triumphant greeting of captured Austrian flags, many -wounded in wagons, many more afoot, marching wearily. Those who walked -the people must aid. The ranks were soon broken, and all was -good-natured tumult. Here was help for heroes--wine, bread, eager aid -of an arm. Some who were dragging along on crutches, to get a little -relief from jolting wagons, were hoisted, to their discomfort, on the -shoulders of friendly patriots not eager to volunteer. - -Francois, tucking Toto under his cloak, edged himself into the broken -ranks of the heroes of Hondschoote and Wattignies. "We are many," he -said to a man beside him, as tattered as he, for there was scarcely a -rag of uniform. "Jolly to get home again!" - -"_Sacre!_ not if they guillotined thy father a week ago." - -"_Dame!_ is that so? But patience, and hold thy tongue, citizen. -_Tonnerre!_ my leg." He was limping. - -"Thy shoulder, friend"--to a blouse. "_Tiens!_ that is better. The -Austrian bullets have a liking for one's bones. Crack! crack! I can -hear them yet. They do not spare the officers any more than they do the -privates." - -Should they carry the citizen officer--take care of his sword? Francois -thanked them; the citizens must be careful of his leg; and there was -Francois on the shoulders of two big Jacobins, like a dozen more; for it -was who should help, and a shouting, good-humored crowd. Francois was -not altogether well pleased at his elevation; he dropped forward his too -well-known face. There was a jam at the barrier. Had these citizen -soldiers their passes, as provided? Francois was weak; he suffered, -poor fellow! The Jacobins and the women roared derisively: "Passes for -heroes?" All order was lost. They were through, and in the Rue -d'Enfer. Would the good citizens let him walk? He was heavy, and they -were pleased to be relieved of one hundred and ninety-five pounds of -wounded hero. - -Meanwhile there was some renewed order in the broken formation; yet now -and then men fell out to meet sweethearts or friends, usually coming -back again to the ranks. The hint was good. - -"_Ciel!_ comrade, there is my mother!" The crowd gave way as the hero -hobbled out of the line. He called out: "_Mere, mere_--mother! Here! -'T is I--Adolphe. The deuce! she is so deaf." - -Where was she? Citizens were eager to help him. - -"Ah," he cried, "she saw me not"; and, turning into a side street near -the asylum, limped painfully in pursuit of the mother who was afflicted -with deafness. Toto followed. Once around a corner, the lameness -disappeared. In the gathering dusk he set out for the Cite. - -"It must be Quatre Pattes, Toto. Come along. A bad year, my friend, to -have lost a father and a mother. No matter; we are in Paris." - -He loved the streets. "Ah, there is Notre Dame and the river!" He was -happy, and went along laughing, and at last turned into a small cafe -near to his old home in the Rue des Chanteurs. - -He was tired and hungry, and, as he agreeably remembered, well off, -having had small chance to spend the money with which he had been -generously provided by Achille Gamel. The bread and cheese were good, -and the wine was not bad. He asked for tobacco and a pipe. Would the -host find him "L'Ami du Peuple"? He was a sublieutenant, wounded on the -frontier; but, _dame!_ to get home was happiness. - -Two men sat down by him, and talked. Good Jacobins were these, in the -dirty uniforms of the sansculotte army which kept Paris in order at the -rate of forty sous a day. "Bad wages, citizen lieutenant," they said. - -The hero of the frontier was worse off--no pay for three months. He -related his battles; and now he must go. - -"Come, Toto." Toto had been wounded at Wattignies; he was well now, and -would be promoted. "_Bon soir_, comrades." In fact, he was wildly gay, -glad to be back in Paris. - -He paused, at last, before a house of the date of Henri II. Its heavy, -narrow door, and a slit in the wall for a window, told of days when -every man's house was a fortress. - -"It is our best chance, Toto; but best may be bad. We must do -something." He jingled the bell. The cord was drawn by the concierge -within, so as to lift the latch, and Francois entered the hall. To -right was the Crab's den, and there within was Quatre Pattes. He saw -the thin purple nose, the bleared red eyes, the bearded chin, and the -two sticks. - -"_Mille tonnerres!_ my child, it is thou. And where hast thou been? -There is no thief like thee. Come and laugh for thy old mother." She -welcomed him in thieves' slang, vile, profuse, and emphatic. Had he any -money? Yes, a little; business was good in the provinces; and would she -house him? Here was a louis d'or for _maman_; and what was this -abominable _carte de surete_, this new trap? She explained. He need -have no fear; she would get him one. He had been in bad company, she -had heard; for a Jacobin had told her of the fencing-school, and -thither, too late, she had gone to get a little help. He had nearly -killed Amar, _le farouche_, and that injured citizen was said to desire -his society. But that was long ago; and Paris lived fast, and was gay, -and forgot easily. - -Francois had no wish to refresh Citizen Amar's memory. He asked lightly -if she had ever seen Gregoire, the commissioner to Normandy? - -Mme. Quatre Pattes had never seen him. He was of the Great Committee--a -patriot of the best, like herself. Did he know Gregoire? He told her -frankly that he had been arrested by Gregoire, and had escaped. - -"Thou art the first, my child!" she cried, her jaws champing as if she -were eating. "Thou hast a fine taste in the choosing of enemies. I -would not be in thy skin for a hundred louis; and now a cat of the night -thou must be. I can hide thee awhile; and if thou dost feed me well, -the mama-crab will care for thee. No one need know thou art here. -Come, get thee a few louis, and we will buy a fine card of safety, and -christen thee to suit. Ha, ha! my little one!" and she beat with her -sticks on the floor. - -[Illustration: QUATRE PATTES.] - -Our thief was now back in his garret, having lost as many fair chances -of prosperity as did Murad the Unlucky. He reflected much in these late -autumn months of 1793, being for his wants rich, and therefore in no -necessity to give a thought to methods of getting his daily diet. -During the daytime Quatre Pattes insisted on his secluding himself in -his garret. At night he left Toto with the Crab, who fed him well, and -was therefore liked by a revolutionary dog without prejudices. From -these night prowls Francois returned with sad complaints of the way the -republicans guarded their slim purses; in fact, at this time he avoided -adventures, stole from no one, and gave of his lessening store what -barely contented Mme. Quatre Pattes. Were I to say that his goodness -came from newly acquired views of life, I should mislead. He was as -honest as ever, which is to say he took no thought at all as to ethical -questions. We are said to be children of circumstance, which may be -described as the environment of the hour. This is true of the feeble; -but character was the more despotic parent in this resolute man, who -could wrestle strenuously with circumstance. He was a Royalist because -he liked show and color and the fine manners of the great; in the past -he stole because he knew no other way to live. His admirable health was -a contribution to his natural cheerfulness. He still had simple -likings--for the country, for animals, and would have had for books had -they been easy to get, or had he known how to get those which would have -fed his mind and had sauce of interest. - -His surroundings would have surely and hopelessly degraded a less -permanent character, and a nature without his ingrained gaiety would -have taken more steadily some thought of the far future. He knew too -well how the thief's life ended: the galleys, the wheel, the lonely -death-bed in the hospital. If he reflected on it at all, as he seems to -have done at this time, it was because of his long, weary days in the -attic. The immediate future at this period did disturb him, but never -long. He liked to talk, and, lacking society, talked more and more to -himself aloud, with Toto for an audience which never ceased to attend. -He who is pleased with his own talk cannot easily be bored; and so he -talked, until Quatre Pattes, who loved keyholes and to listen, thought -he must be out of his head. She herself was always either silent or -boisterous, and was as to this like other beasts of prey. When in -calamity Francois was too busy to be serious. When at ease the -mirthfulness of his natural man forbade argument as to what the dice-box -of to-morrow would offer; for to laugh is to hope, and Francois, as we -know, laughed much, well, and often. - -There were many times in his life when to have been honestly loved by a -woman capable of comprehending both his strength and his weakness would, -I think, have given him the chance to live a better life. But how was -this possible to one who lived as he lived--who was what he was? - -To be merely liked was pleasant to Francois, and appealed with the most -subtle form of flattery to his immense self-esteem. The man was -sensitive, and in after days, when in an atmosphere of refinement, would -never speak of the terrible women he had known too well in the Cite. -Having no longer the distraction of the streets, he was at present -condemned to live long hours with no society but that of Toto and the -animal Quatre Pattes. He bought a small field-glass, and studied the -habits of his neighbors far and near, and once more took interest in the -feline owners of the roof-tops. Quatre Pattes fed him well, and brought -him some of the old gazettes. - -He read how, on that frightful 5th of September, now past, one of the -five complementary days of the republican calendar, on motion of -Barrere, "Terror" was decreed by the Convention to be the order of the -day. It was indeed the birth-hour of the Terror. The Great Committee -was in power. The revolutionary tribunals were multiplied. The law of -suspected persons was drawn with care by the great jurist Merlin of -Douai. Behind these many man-traps was the Committee of Public Safety, -with despotic power over the persons of all men, and in full control of -the prisons. To it the subcommittees reported arrests; it secured the -prisoners who were to be tried; it saw to the carrying out of all -sentences; it kept the peace in Paris with an array of sansculottes, and -fed the guillotine daily. Of this stern mechanism, strong of head and -incapable of pity, was Pierre Andre Amar; as, one day, Francois read -with his full share of the Terror. There was soon enough of it to -supply all France. - -Before November came, Francois, pretending to have been in luck, -supplied the Crab with six louis. She exacted two more, and how much she -kept none may know. He had very few left. - -She was as good as her word. "Here, my little one, is the _carte de -surete_ from the committee of this section." The description was taken -from his passport. He was no more to be Francois, but Francois Beau. -If he would denounce one or two people, the committee would indorse his -card as that of "a good patriot who deserved well of the country." -There was the lame cobbler over the way, who talked loosely, and to whom -the Crab owed money; that would be useful and convenient. Francois -shivered all down his long back; he would see. Meanwhile, as he -considered, Quatre Pattes twisted her bent spine, rattled her two -sticks, and looked up at him sidewise with evil eyes, bidding him have a -care, and not get his good mama into trouble, or else, or else--Francois -felt that some night he might have to wring that wrinkled neck. He was -uneasy, and with good reason. - -He could bear the confinement no longer, and in December began to find -his cash getting low. He had let his beard grow, and taken to long, -tight pantaloons and a red cap. He felt that, come what might, he must -take the risks of daylight. - -The chances against him were small. The numberless denunciations of the -winter fell chiefly on the rich, the rash in talk, the foes of the -strong heads who were ably and mercilessly ruling France. The poor, the -obscure, and the cautious bourgeoisie were as a rule safe until, in the -spring, something like a homicidal mania took possession of Robespierre -and others, who, although they were the most intelligent of the Great -Committee, were never in control of a steady majority, and began to fear -for their own heads. - -Outwardly Paris was gay. The restaurateurs made money; the people were -fed by levies of grain on the farmers; and the tumbrel, on its hideous -way, rarely excited much attention. The autumn and winter of '93 were -not without peril or adventure for the thief. The Palais d'Egalite, once -royal, was his favored resort, and with his well-trained sleight of hand -he managed to justify the name of the place by efforts to equalize the -distribution of what money was left to his own advantage and to the -satisfaction of the Crab. - -The dark drama went on; but, except the tricoteuses who, like Quatre -Pattes, went daily to see the guillotine at work, comparatively few -attended this daily spectacle. Paris, wearied of crime and too much -politics, was tired of the monotony of slaughter, which had now no -shadow of excuse. - -"Would the citizen miss the death of the Austrian, the ex-queen?" He -would not; he knew better than to say no to Quatre Pattes. Would he go -with her? She could get him a good place, and all Paris would be there. -All Paris was not to his desire. He said he would go alone. A walk -with this four-footed creature and the rattle of her becketing sticks he -liked not. He called his dog, and, avoiding the vast assemblage on the -Place of the Revolution, found his way to the Rue St. Honore. - -He stood in a crowd against a house. The tumbrel came slowly, and, -because of the surging mass of people, paused opposite to him. He -looked about him. In a group at a window on the far side of the street -he saw a man apparently sketching the sad figure in the cart. It seemed -devilish to this poor outcast of the Cite. His face flushed; he asked -who that was in the window, at which many were staring. The man he -addressed was in black, and looked to be an ex-abbe. - -"My son," he said quietly, and with no evidence of caution--"my son, 't -is David the painter, he of the Great Committee. He hath no heart; but -in another world he will get it again, and then--" - -"Take care!" said Francois. The shouting crowd cried: "Messalina! Down -with the Austrian!" - -Francois looked, and saw the bent figure seated in the cart. Pale it -was, with a red spot on each cheek, haggard; her gray hair cut close, -pitiful; with pendent breasts uncorseted, lost to the horrors of the -insults hurled at her abject state. Francois moved away, and the -tumbrel went rumbling on. An hour later he was crossing the broad -Elysian Fields amid the scattered crowd. It was over, and few cared. -The booths were selling toy guillotines. Of a sudden he missed Toto. -He called him, and, hearing him bark, pushed in haste into a large tent -filled with women and children and with men in blouses. - -"The citizen has not paid," cried the doorkeeper. Francois saw Toto -struggling in the hands of a red-bearded man who was crying out: "Enter! -enter! Trial and execution of an _emigre_ dog. _Voila_, citizens! Range -yourselves." There was the red guillotine, the basket, the sawdust, and -poor Toto howling. It was a spectacle which much amused the lower class -of Jacobins. "_A bas le chien aristocrate!_" - -Francois advanced with his cheerful smile. "The citizen is mistaken; it -is my dog." - -"Where is his _carte de surete_?" laughed the man. "Up with him for -trial!" - -Four monkeys were the judges. Jeers and laughter greeted Francois: "No, -no; go on!" - -He caught the man by the arm. The fellow let fall Toto, who made a -hasty exit. - -"I denounce thee for an enemy of the republic!" cried the showman. -"Seize him! seize him!" Francois broke away, and, using his long arms, -reached the entrance. There was no earnest desire to stop him. The -doorkeeper caught him by the collar. He kicked as only a master of the -_savate_ knows how to kick, and, free of the grip, called to Toto, and -plunged into a crowd which made no effort to recapture him. He moved -with them, and soon turned to cross the river. - -Midway on the bridge he came face to face with Despard. He was ragged -and fleshless, the shadow of the well-fed Jacobin he had last seen in -the chateau of Ste. Luce. - -"_Ciel!_" exclaimed Francois, "thou art starved." He had no grudge -against his old partner, but he fully appreciated the danger of this -encounter. - -He was comforted by the man's alarm. "Come," said Francois, and took -him into a little drinking-shop. It was deserted at this time of day. -He easily drew out all he desired to know. Mme. Renee was assuredly -dead; and he who threw the gauntlet, the butcher, dead also; and three -or more on the fatal stairway. Gregoire had punished the village -severely; heads had fallen. Pierre's friend Robespierre had abandoned -him, had even threatened him--Pierre! but he had escaped any worse fate. -He was half famished; and would Francois help him? Francois ordered -bread and cheese and wine. He would see what next to do. And what of -the marquis? He had not appeared in the lists of the guillotined; but -he might readily have died unnamed, and escaped Francois's notice. - -"No," said Pierre, sadly; "he lives. Of course he lives. The devil -cannot die. He got away from Gregoire. Who could keep that man? But -for thee and the accursed commissioner, I should have had my revenge. -We shall meet some day." - -"Shall I find him for thee?" - -"_Dame!_ no. Let us go out. I am uneasy; I am afraid." - -"But of what?" - -"I do not know. I am afraid. I am accursed with fear. I am afraid as -a man is in a dream. Somewhere else I shall cease to fear. Let us go." -He was in a sweat of pure causeless terror, the anguish of an emotion -the more terrible for its lack of reason. It was the inexplicable -torment of one of the forms of growing insanity. Francois looked on, -amazed and pitiful. The man's eyes wandered here and there; he got up, -and sat down again, went to the door, looked about him, and came back. -At last, as Francois began to consider how to be free of a dubious -acquaintance, Pierre said drearily: - -"Is it easy to die? I should like to die. If I were brave like thee, I -should drown myself." - -"Ah, well," laughed Francois, "there is the guillotine--short and -comfortable." - -"Thou wilt not denounce me?" he cried, leaping to his feet. "I have my -_carte_; I will let thee see it." He was like a scared child. - -"Nonsense!" cried Francois, with good-humored amusement. "I must go. -Here is a gold louis. Why dost thou not rob a few Jacobins?" - -"Hush! I dare not; I was brave once. Thou didst save me once; help me -now. Thou wilt not let me starve?" - -"No, indeed. I? Not I. Take care of thy louis; they are scarce. Meet -me here at this hour in a week. Adieu. At this hour, mind." - -"Art thou going to leave me alone?" - -Francois was grieved, but could not remain, and hastened away, while -Pierre looked after him with melancholy eyes. - -"Come, Toto," he said, as he turned a corner. "The man is mad. Let us -thank the _bon Dieu_ we never have had a wife; and the rest of our -relatives we have buried--papa and mama, and all the family." - -It was not in the man to forget, and a week later he cautiously entered -the little cafe to keep his engagement. It was noisy. To his surprise, -he saw Pierre declaiming lustily to half a dozen blouses. - -"Ah!" he cried, seeing Francois, "_mon ami_, here is a seat. There is -good news from the frontier. A glass for the citizen." Clink, clink. -"A vous*. Death to royal rats!" He went on in a wild way until the -workmen had gone, and Francois stopped him with: - -[Illustration: "'DEATH TO ROYAL RATS!'"] - -"What the deuce has come to thee?" - -"Oh, nothing. I have had one of the fits you know of; I am always -better after them. _Diable!_ no marquis could scare me to-day. I saw -him last week, I did. I followed him. It is he who would have been -scared. I--I missed him in a crowd. In a minute I should have had him, -like that," and he turned a glass upside down so as to capture a fly -which was foraging on the table--"like _that_," he repeated -triumphantly. - -Francois watched him, and saw a flushed face, tremulous hands, staring -eyes. - -"He is afraid; he can't get out"; and the man laughed low, pointing to -his prisoner. - -"And thou wouldst have denounced him?" said Francis. - -"Why not? He is one of them. He is hell; he is the devil! I saw no -officers to help me." - -"Thou art cracked; thou wilt denounce me next." - -Pierre looked at Francois with unusual steadiness of gaze, hesitated, -and replied: - -"I thought of it; you are all for these people." - -Francois, in turn, looked his man over curiously. He had now a queer -expression of self-satisfied elation. "A good joke, that," said -Francois. "Wait a moment; I left Toto outside." He went to the door, -and looked up and down the street. "Wait," he cried to Pierre. "Hang -the dog!" And in an instant he had left the citizen to abide his -return. Once in his garret, he cried: "Toto, thou hast no sense. The -sane scoundrels are bad enough, but why didst thou fetch on me this -crazy rascal? And so the marquis got away, Toto. The man with the wart -is not as clever as I thought him. But some folks have luck." - -The sad winter of the Terror wore on, while Francois continued to live -unmolested, and pursued his estimable occupation always with an easy -conscience, but often with an uneasy mind. - -It was near the end of the pleasant month of May, 1794--the month -Prairial of the new calendar. The roses were in bloom. The violets -were seeking sunshine here and there, half hidden in the rare grasses of -the trampled space of the Place of the Revolution. On the six bridges -which spanned the canals, its boundaries, children were looking at the -swans. In the middle space, the scaffold and cross-beams of the -guillotine rose dark red against the blue sky of this afternoon of -spring. Two untidy soldiers marched back and forth beside it. The -every-day tragedy of the morning was over; why should the afternoon -remember? The great city seemed to have neither heart nor memory. The -drum-beat of a regiment going to the front rang clear down the Quai des -Tuileries. People ran to see; children and their nurses left the swans. -The birds in the trees listened, and, liking not this crude music, took -wing, and perched on the beams of the monstrous thing in the center of -the Place. - -Francois crossed the open ground, with Toto close to heel. The keeper -of the little cafe where he liked to sit had just told him that the -citizen with whom he had twice come thither had been asking for him, and -that with this citizen had also come once a stout man, who would know -where Citizen Francois lived. This last was of the fourth section, one -Gregoire, a man with a wart. - -"Thou didst notice the man?" said Francois, much troubled. - -"Notice him? I should think so. _Dame_! I am of the Midi. A wart on -a man's nose is bad luck; the mother of that man saw a cocatrice egg in -the barn-yard." - -"A cocatrice egg! What the mischief is that!" - -"_Tiens!_ if you were of the Midi, you would know. When a hen cackles -loud, 't is that she hath laid a great egg; the father is a basilisk." - -"_Tonnerre!_ a basilisk?" - -"Thou must crush the egg, and not look, else there is trouble; thy next -child will have warts, or his eyebrows will meet, and then look out!" -Francois's superstition was vastly reinforced by this legend. - -"_Mon Dieu!_" he cried; "he hath both." This Francois was a bold man -when he had to meet danger face to face, but, like a child as to many -things, afraid where a less imaginative man would have been devoid of -fear. - -Just now he had been turning over in his mind the chance of the Crab's -betraying him. She had been prowling about his garret, and had stolen a -well-hidden score of francs. He dared not complain. What scant -possessions he had would fall into her claws if at any minute she might -choose to denounce him. Of late, purses were too well guarded. The -display of luxury in lace handkerchiefs and gold seals no longer -afforded an available resource. Except Robespierre, who defied popular -sentiment, few men carried two watches. Quatre Pattes had the appetite -of a winter wolf, and was becoming more and more exacting. She asked -why he did not sell his rapier. If it were known that he withheld -weapons such as the republic claimed, there might be trouble. Why had -he not given up his pistols? They were gold-mounted, and had belonged -to a grandee of Spain. Why not sell them? They would fetch a deal of -money. - -He was not inclined to part with his arms, and least of all with his -rapier. At last he gave her one pistol, which she sold; the other he -hung high up on a peg set within the chimney, having hidden in its -barrel the precious little document he had captured from Citizen -Gregoire in that pleasant inn on the Seine, where an agreeable evening -had ended with such unaccountable abruptness. - -Next to the Crab's treachery, he feared most to meet Despard when the -Jacobin should chance to be in one of those aggressive moods which were -so puzzling to Francois. But above all did he dread Gregoire, and grew -terrified as he reflected on that business of the cocatrice egg and the -basilisk. - -It seemed as though he were doomed, and this most cheery of men became -distinctly unhappy. "That _sacre_ basilisk!" he muttered, and, less on -guard than usual, wandered on, taking stock of his perplexities. - -Near to the foundations of the Madeleine, where work had long since -ceased, he paused to recreate himself with a puppet-show. The -vanquished fiend was Citizen _Jean Boule_. He was soon guillotined. The -crowd was merry, and Francois, refreshed, contributed his own share of -appreciative mirth. In the throng he unluckily set his big foot on the -toes of a little Jacobin dressed in the extreme of the fashions these -gentry affected. The small man was not to be placated by Francois's -abundant excuses, and demanded the citizen's card of safety. It was an -everyday matter. No one dared to refuse. There were half-insane men, -in those times, who satisfied their patriotism by continually exacting -cards from timid women or from any well-dressed man. To decline was to -break the law. Francois obeyed with the utmost civility. The little -man returned the card. - -"The citizen is of the best of the sections, but, _sacre!_ he is heavy." - -Much relieved, Francois went on. In the Rue St. Honore the corner of a -lace handkerchief invited a transfer, and lace handkerchiefs were rare. -As there was a small, well-occupied group looking through a shop-window -at a caricature of Mr. Pitt, the occasion appeared propitious, and the -handkerchief changed owners. - -A minute later a man touched Francois's shoulder. - -"Thy card, citizen!" - -"The deuce!" said the thief, as he turned. "This gets monotonous. _Mon -Dieu_, the marquis!" he exclaimed. - -"Hush! Your card. You are followed--watched. There is this one -chance." Francis produced his card. The marquis murmured, "Take care; -obey me." Holding the card in his hand, he called authoritatively to a -municipal guard who was passing. The man stopped, but no one else -paused. Curiosity was perilous. - -"This good citizen is followed by that man yonder--the one with the torn -bonnet. I know the citizen. Here is his card and mine. Just tell that -fellow to be careful"; and he slipped his own card of safety into the -guard's hand, and under it three louis. The guard hesitated; then he -glanced at the card. - -"'T is in order, and countersigned by Vadier of the Great Committee. -These spies are too busy; I will settle the fellow. Good morning, -citizens." - -They moved away quietly, in no apparent haste. As they were turning a -corner, the thief looked back. - -"I am a lost man, monsieur!" He saw, far away, the man of the torn red -bonnet, and with him Quatre Pattes. She was evidently in a rage. He -understood at once. In the thieves' quarter denunciations were not in -favor. She knew too well the swift justice of this bivouac of outcasts -to risk being suspected as a traitor to its code. The night before, he -had been unable to give her money, and had again refused to sell his -weapons. She had angrily reminded him that he was in her power, and he -had for the first time declared that he would let the Cite settle with -her. He had been rash, and now, too late, he knew it. - -He hastily explained his sad case to the disguised gentleman, and was on -the point of telling him that this Quatre Pattes was that Mme. Quintette -who had once been his agent, and would probably be an enemy not to be -despised. He glanced at the marquis, and, wisely or not, held his -tongue. - -"We must part here," said the gentleman. He had hesitated when chance -led him to the neighborhood of the thief in trouble; but he was a -courageous man, and disliked to owe to an inferior any such service as -Francois had more than once rendered him. Vadier's sign manual on his -own card of safety was an unquestioned assurance of patriotism; it had -cost him a round sum, but it had its value. - -When he said, "I must leave you," the thief returned: - -"I am sorry, monsieur; I know not what to do or where to go." - -"Nor I," replied Ste. Luce, coldly. "Nor, for that matter, a thousand -men in Paris to-day." He had paid a debt, and meant to be rid of a -disreputable and dangerous acquaintance. "Better luck to you!" he -added. - -"May I say to monsieur, who has helped me, that Despard is in Paris, and -has seen him?" - -The marquis turned. "Why did not you kill him when you had the chance?" - -"You forbade me." - -"That is true--quite true. Had you done it without asking me, I had -been better pleased." - -"I had no grudge against him." - -"Well, well, thank you, my man; I can look out for myself." - -"Will monsieur accept the gratitude of a poor devil of a thief?" - -"Oh, that is all right. One word more. It is as well to tell you, my -man, how I came to speak to you. When first I observed you, as I fell -behind, I saw that terrible old witch with two sticks pointing you out -to the fellow with the torn cap; then he followed you." - -"It was Quatre Pattes, monsieur. I lodge in her house." - -"A good name, I should say. I wish you better luck and safer lodgings. -Adieu"; and he went quietly on his way. - - - - - *XIX* - -_Of the sorrowful life of loneliness, of Francois's arrest, and of those -he met in prison._ - - -Francois stood still. He was alone, and felt of a sudden, as never -before, the solitude of an uncompanioned life. The subtle influence of -the Terror had begun to sap the foundations of even his resolute -cheerfulness. It was this constancy of dread which to some natures made -the terrible certainties of the prisons a kind of relief. He looked -after the retreating figure as it moved along the _quai_ and was lost to -view in the Rue des Petits-Augustines. - -"Toto," he said, "I would I had his clever head. When 't is a question -of hearts, _mon ami_, I would rather have thine. And now, what to do?" -At last he moved swiftly along the borders of the Seine, and soon -regained his own room. The Crab would go to the afternoon market; her -net swung over her arm at the time he had seen her; and, as she always -moved slowly, he had ample leisure. - -He packed his bag, and taking from his pistol the paper he had secured -when in company with Gregoire, replaced it under the lining of his shoe. -Its value he very well knew. After a moment's reflection, he put his -pistol back on the peg high up in the chimney. He had been in the house -nearly an hour, and was ready to leave, when he heard feet, and a knock -at the locked door. A voice cried: - -"In the name of the republic, open!" He knew that he was lost. - -"_Dame_! Toto. We are done for, my little one"; and then, without -hesitation, he opened the door. Three municipals entered. One of them -said: - -"We arrest thee, citizen, as an _emigre_ returned." - -"_Emigre_!" and he laughed in his usual hearty way. "If I had been that, -no one would have caught me back in France. Ah, well, I am ready, -citizen. Here is an old rapier. The woman will sell it; better to give -it to thee or to the republic." He took up his slender baggage, and -followed them. When they were down-stairs, he asked leave to see the -Crab. The guard called her out of her den. - -"_Chere maman_," said Francois, "this is thy doing. These good citizens -have my rapier, and the pistol is gone. Not a sou is left thee. Thou -hast killed the goose that laid the golden eggs. Alas!" - -The Crab rattled her claws on the sticks, and these on the floor, and -spat vileness of thieves' slang, declaring it a wicked lie. Would they -take the silver-hilted sword? It was hers, and he owed her rent. At -last, laughing, the guards secured the thief's hands behind his back, -and marched him away to the revolutionary committee of the section -Franklin. Here no time was lost with the _emigre_, who was sent off in a -hurry to the prison of the Madelonnettes, with poor Toto trotting after -him, much perplexed by the performance. - -Francois was astounded at the celerity and certainty of the methods by -which he, a free Arab of the streets, was thus caged. As usual, it -acted on his sense of humor, and before the dreaded sectional tribunal -and with the municipals he was courageously merry. When he heard that he -was to be sent to the Madelonnettes, he said: - -"But, citizens, I am not of the sex. _Mon Dieu!_ the Madelonnettes! 'T -is not respectable--'t is not decent"; and he laughed outright. As no -man was ever so made as to be protected from the infection of such mirth -as the thief's, the judges laughed in chorus. One of them, disturbed in -his slumber, awoke, and seeing no cause for this long-visaged flap-ear -so to mock the justice of the republic, he said: - -"Thou wilt not laugh long, miserable aristocrat!" - -This much delighted Francois. "By St. Jacobus, citizen, I swear to thee -I am only an honest thief. I did not expect to be made of the fine -nobility by a good democrat like thee." - -"Off with him!" said the judge. "They laugh best who laugh last." - -"No, no," cried the incorrigible; "they laugh best who laugh most. _Au -revoir_." - -"Take him away! The next case." - -The thief was gay, and amused the officers; but his keen senses were now -all on guard, and, too, like others, he felt relieved at the ending of -his life of suspense and watchful anxiety. His misfortune was plainly -due to the avarice and needs of the Crab, and to her belief that he had -ceased to be available as a means of support. - -There was a little delay at the front of the old house of detention; -some formalities were to be gone through with. Francois took careful -note of it all. The prison stood in the Rue des Fontaines: a gray stone -building, with a lofty story on the first floor, and, above, three -stories and an attic; a high wall to left shut in the garden. - -On entering a long, dark corridor, his bonds were removed, his bundle -was searched, and what little money he had was scrupulously restored to -him. He was stripped and examined, even to his shoes; but as the tongue -of leather was loose only at the toes, the precious document escaped a -very rigorous search. Poor Toto had been left outside, despite -Francois's entreaties. In the cell to which he was consigned were eight -straw mattresses. He arranged his small baggage, and was told he was -free to go whither he would above the _rez-de-chaussee_, which was kept -for forgers of assignats and thieves. The corridor was some fifty feet -long, and smelt horribly. On the main floor was the common dining-room. -A separate stair-case led to a garden of considerable size, planted with -box and a few quince- and other fruit-trees. At night two municipals -guarded this space, while, outside, the steps of sentries could be heard -when the hours of darkness brought their quiet. At 9 P.M. the -prisoners, who assembled in the large hall, answered to their names; a -bell rang, and they were locked in their cells, or slept as they could -in the corridors. The richer captives were taxed to support their poor -companions, and even to buy and feed the mastiffs which roamed at night -in the garden. - -Much of all this Francois learned as he arranged his effects and talked -gaily with the turnkey, one Vaubertrand, a watchful but not unkindly -little man. Thus informed, Francois, curious as usual, went down the -corridor, and out into the garden. Here were quite two hundred men and -women, some in careful, neat dress, many in rags. He saw, as he looked, -cures, ladies, seamstresses, great nobles, unlucky colonels, and, as he -learned later, musicians, poets; and, to his surprise, for he knew the -theaters, actors such as Fleury, Saint-Prix, and Champville, whose -delicious laughter the Comedie Francaise knew so well. Here, too, were -Boulainvilliers, De Crosne, and Dozincourt, the ex-kings and heroes of -the comic stage; and there, in a group apart, the fine gentles and dames -who had exchanged Versailles and the Trianon for this home of disastrous -fortunes. - -"Yes," said the turnkey; "the citizen is right; 't is a droll -menagerie," and so left him. - -Francois looked at the walls and chained dogs, and knew at once that the -large numbers in the prison made impossible that solitude in which plans -of escape prosper. For a while no one noticed him so far as to speak to -him. The ill-clad and poor kept to one side of the garden; on the -other, well-dressed people were chatting in the sun. Women were sewing; -a young man was reciting verses; and De Crosne, with the child of the -concierge on his lap, was telling fairy-tales. Ignorant of the -etiquette of the prison, Francois wandered here and there, not observing -that he was stared at with surprise as he moved among the better clad on -the sunny side of the yard. He was interested by what he saw. How -quiet they all were! what fine garments! what bowing and courtesying! -He liked it, as he always liked dress and color, and the ways of these -imperturbable great folks. Beyond this his reflections did not go; nor -as yet had he been here long enough to note how, day by day, some -gentleman disappeared, or some kindly face of woman was seen no more. -What he did observe was that here and there a woman or a man sat apart -in self-contained grief, remembering those they had lost. The thief -moved on, thoughtful. - -At this moment he heard "_Diable!_" and saw the Marquis de Ste. Luce. -"What! and have they trapped you, my inevitable thief? I myself was -bagged and caged just after I left you. We are both new arrivals. Come -aside with me." - -Francois followed him, saying he was sorry to find the marquis here. - -"It was to be, sooner or later; and I presume it will not last long. I -was careless; and, after all, Francois, it was my fate--my shadow. A -man does many things to amuse himself, and some one of them casts a -lengthening shadow as time goes on. The shadow--my shadow--well, no -matter. We all have our shadows, and at sunset they lengthen." - -"'T is like enough, monsieur. 'T is like me. There is a man with a -wart I am afraid of, and it is because of that wart. The man is a -drunken fool." - -"Despard is my wart," said the marquis, dryly. "As to being afraid, my -good Francois, I never had the malady, not even as a boy." - -"_Dame_! I have it now; and to get out of this is impossible." - -"I think so. Did you mention Despard?" - -"No; it was monsieur spoke of him." - -"Quite true--quite true. He found me at last. Confound the fellow! I -did not credit him with being clever." - -"So this is his man with a wart?" thought Francois, but made no comment. -He had not fully comprehended the simile with which this impassive -seigneur illustrated the fact that but one of his many misdeeds had cast -on his future a lengthening shadow of what he would have hesitated to -call remorse. - -"Francois," he said, "you and I are new additions to this queer -collection. I may as well warn you that even here spies abound. Why? -The deuce knows. Barn-yard fowls are not less considered than are we. -It is the tribunal one day; then the Conciergerie; and next day, -_affaire finie_, the business is over. Meanwhile, you are in the best -society in France. There are M. de la Ferte, the Comte de Mirepoix, the -Duc de Levis, the Marquis de Fleury. I used to think them dull; calamity -has not sharpened their wits. _Diable!_ but you are welcome." The -marquis had all his life amused himself with small regard to what was -thought of him or his ways of recreation. "'T is a bit of luck to find -you here in this hole." Francois could hardly agree with the opinion, -but he laughed as he said so. - -"Here comes my old comrade, De Laval Montmorency. He is still a gay -jester. He says we are like Saul and that other fellow, Jonathan, -except that in death we shall both of us to a certainty be divided." - -"_Ciel!_ 't is a ghastly joke, monsieur." - -"It has decidedly a flavor of the locality. I must not play telltale -about you, or they will put you in the _rez-de-chaussee_, and, by St. -Denis! I should miss you. I shall have a little amusement in -perplexing these gentlemen. Your face will betray you; it used to be -pretty well known. However, we shall see." - -The nobleman last named threaded his way through the crowd, excusing -himself and bowing as he came. - -"Ah," he said, "Ste. Luce, another new arrival. The hotel is filling up. -Good morning, monsieur. _Grand merci!_ 't is our old acquaintance who -used to tell fortunes on the Champs Elysees; told mine once, but, alas! -did not warn me of this. Well, well, we have here some queer society. -Take care, Ste. Luce; this citizen may be a spy, for all thou knowest. -I assure thee we have to be careful." - -"I--I a _mouchard_--a spy?" - -"M. de Montmorency has no such idea," said Ste. Luce. "I shall ask him -to respect your desire to be known by a name not your own. Permit me to -add that I have less reason to thank some of my friends than I have to -thank this gentleman. He is pleased to have mystified Paris for a -wager, or no matter what. Just now he is--what the deuce is it you call -yourself at present?" - -Francois was delighted with the jest. "Allow me, monsieur, to pass as -Citizen Francois. My real name-- But you will pardon me; real names -are dangerous." - -"And what are names to-day," said the marquis, "thine or mine? My -friend here--well, between us, Montmorency, this is he who held the -stair with me in my _ci-devant_ chateau. Thou wilt remember I told thee -of it. A good twenty minutes we kept it against a hundred or so of my -grateful people. He is the best blade in Paris, and, _foi d'honneur_, -that business was no trifle." - -"Who you are, or choose to be, I know not," said the older noble, "but I -thank you; and, _pardieu!_ Ste. Luce is free with your biography." - -This was Francois's opinion. - -No one knew distinctly who was this newcomer, concerning whom, for pure -cynical amusement, Ste. Luce said so much that was gracious. Any -freshly gay companion was welcomed, if his manners were at all -endurable. The actors and actresses were pleasantly received. The few -who remembered the long face, and ears like sails, and the captivating -laugh of the former reader of palms, were so bewildered by Ste. Luce's -varied statements that the poor thief found himself at least tolerated. -He liked it. Nevertheless, as the days went by, and while seemingly the -gayest of the gay, Francois gave serious thought to the business of -keeping his head on his shoulders. He told fortunes,--always happy -ones,--played tricks, and cut out of paper all manner of animals for the -little girl, the child of the turnkey. Toto he gave up for lost; but on -the fourth day the dog, half starved, got a chance when a prisoner -entered. He dashed through the guards, and fled up stairs and down, -until, seeing his master in the big hall, he ran to him, panting. The -head jailer would have removed him, but there was a great outcry; and at -last, when little Annette, Francois's small friend, cried, the dog was -allowed to remain. - -He was, as the marquis declared, much more interesting than most of the -prisoners, and possessed, as he added, the advantage over other -prisoners of being permanent. In fact, they were not. Every day or two -came long folded papers. The _ci-devant_ Baron Bellefontaine would -to-morrow have the cause of his detention considered by Tribunal No. 3. -Witnesses and official defenders had been allowed; but of late, and to -_emigres_, these were often denied. Also, witnesses were scarce and -easily terrified, so that batches of merely suspected persons were -condemned almost unheard. To be tried meant nearly always the -Conciergerie and death. All cases were supposed to be tried in the -order of their arrests; but great sums were spent in paying clerks to -keep names at the foot of the fatal dockets of the committee. The -members of this terrible government survived or died with much judicial -murder on their souls; but countless millions passed through their hands -without one man of them becoming rich. Elsewhere, with the lower -officers, gold was an effective ally when it was desired to postpone the -time of trial. - - - - - *XX* - -_Of how Francois gave Amar advice, and of how the marquis bought his own -head._ - - -It was now about May 26, when, at evening, a commissioner in a cocked -hat, much plumed and scarfed, came into the dining-hall. Toto was -between his master's knees, and was being fed. Francois heard a -gray-haired old lady exclaim to a neighbor: "_Mon Dieu! cherie_, look! -'T is the Terror in person." - -The actor Champville cried out gaily: "I must practise that face. 'T is -a fortune for the villain of a play. If ever I get out, it will be -inestimable." Alas! he was in the next day's list,--the _corvee_, they -called it,--and came no more to table. Francois looked up, caught a -glimpse of that relentless visage, and dropped his head again over the -slender relics of a not bountiful meal. It was Jean Pierre Amar! - -The marquis looked up from his plate, but made no effort to conceal -himself. Amar walked around the table. Now and then his mouth wandered -to left. It was comical, and yet horribly grotesque. He seemed to -notice no one, and went out to make his inspection. Presently a turnkey -came and touched Francois's shoulder. - -"The citizen commissioner would see thee." - -"I am ruined--done for!" murmured the thief; and, followed by Toto, he -went after the turnkey. In the room used as a registering-office, Amar, -_le farouche_, sat handling a paper. - -"Ah!" he said. "Citizen turnkey, leave the suspect with me, and close -the door." The commissioner laid a pair of pistols on the table, and -looked up at Francois. - -"Well, citizen, we are met again. I am free to say that I had careful -search made for thee, and now good fortune has brought hither not thee -alone, but that infernal _ci-devant_ who pinned me like a butterfly." -As he spoke there was something fascinating in the concentration of -emotion on the active side of this unnatural face. Francois felt the -need to be careful. - -"Why the devil don't you speak?" - -"Will the citizen kindly advise me what answer it will be most prudent -to make?" And for comment on his own words, which altogether pleased -him, a pleasant smile drifted downward over his large features. - -"_Sacre!_ but thou art a queer one, and no fool," said the Jacobin. -"Thou wilt be dead before long; a monstrous pity! I would give my place -for thy laugh." - -"'T is a bargain to my mind. Let us change. I shall set thee free at -once--at once, citizen commissioner; I bear no malice." - -Amar, silent for a moment, stroked his nose with thumb and finger. - -"Thou dost not remind me thou didst save my life." - -"No; what is the use?" - -"Use? Why not?" - -"Because men like the citizen commissioner do not lightly change. I -have a too plain recollection of what I was promised in return for my -benevolence. I should regret it except for--" - -"For what?" said Amar. - -Then Francois rose to the height of his greatness. - -"I am a Frenchman, even if I am not of thy party. Had not the country -needed thee, that day had been thy last. Citizen, as a man thou wouldst -set me free; as a patriot thou wilt bow to the law of the republic. I am -willing to die rather than soil the record of one to whom France owes so -much." An overwhelming solemnity of aspect came upon this comedian's -face as it met the gaze of the commissioner. "Alas! the country has few -such citizens." - -"_Tonnerre_! True--true; it is sad." The man's vanity was excelled -only by that of the prisoner before him. Francois had personal -appreciation of the influential value of the bait he cast. A great -diplomatist of the older type was lost when Francois took to the war -against society in place of that against nations. - -"If the citizen commissioner has no more need of me, I will go! To -waste his time is to waste the genius of France." Not for nothing had -Francois been of late in the society of the Comedie Francaise. - -"_Tiens_! Who told thee to go? I desire to do my own thinking. Why -art thou here?" - -Francois laughed, but made no other reply. - -"Young man, art thou laughing at the Revolutionary Tribunal?" - -"Thou art also laughing, monsieur." When Francois laughed, he who -looked at him laughed also. - -"_Diable!_ yes. What right hast thou to make an officer of the Great -Committee laugh? Thou wilt get into trouble." - -"I am in it now, monsieur--up to the neck." - -"No 'monsieur' to me, aristocrat! What brought thee here?" - -'"A greedy woman denounced me. Could not I denounce her in turn?" - -"_Mort du diable!_ that is a fine idea--to let the denounced also -denounce. It would make things move. I will mention that to Couthon." -The half of the face that was able to express emotion manufactured a -look of ferocious mirth; but it was clear that he took the proposition -seriously. - -"It appears that we do not go fast enough, citizen," said Francois. "In -April, 257; in May, so far, only 308. So say the gazettes. What if we -denounce Citizens Robespierre and Vadier? We might go faster. Let us -denounce everybody, and, last, the devil." - -Amar set an elbow on the table, and, with his chin in his hand, -considered this novel specimen of humanity. - -[Illustration: "AMAR CONSIDERED THIS NOVEL SPECIMEN OF HUMANITY."] - -Francois had a controlling idea that what chance of safety there was lay -in complete abandonment to the natural recklessness of his ever-dominant -mood of humor. - -"Art thou at the end of thy nonsense, idiot?" said the Jacobin. - -"Not quite; the citizen might denounce himself." - -"By all the saints! Art making a jest of me--me, Jean Pierre Amar? -Thou must value thy head but little." - -"_Dame!_ it was never worth much; and as to saints, one Citizen -Montmorency said yesterday that the republic hath abolished the noblesse -of heaven and earth too. Droll idea, citizen"; and he laughed merrily. - -"Oh, quit that infernal laughing! Thou must be of the Comedie -Francaise." - -"No; I am of the comedy of France, like the rest--like the commissioner; -but the citizen has two ears for a joke." - -"I--I think so"; and he made it manifest by a twisted, unilateral grin -of self-approval. "That idea of the citizen--prisoners denouncing--I -shall not forget that. Wilt thou serve the republic?" - -"Why not?" - -"These common spies in the prisons are useless. I will put an 'M' to -thy name on our list; 'M' for _mouchard_--spy. That will put thee down -at the bottom whenever the Committee of Safety comes to thy case. I am -not ungrateful." - -"Very good," said Francois, promptly. "I am as honest a Jacobin as the -best. I will serve the republic, citizen, to the best of my ability." - -"Then thou wilt report once a week, especially on the _ci-devants_. The -head keeper will give thee pen, ink, and paper, and a chance to write -here alone. I will so order it. But beware, citizen! I am not a man -to trifle with; I do not forget.'7 - -"I should think not," said Francois, humbly. - -"And when Gregoire comes, in June, thou wilt report to him." - -"I--Gregoire--report--" - -"Certainly. What's the matter? Off with thee now. Ah, that _sacre_ -Citizen Ste. Luce! I forgot him. Tell him his case will come on -shortly." - -"I am sorry." - -"That is to lack patriotism." - -"But he and De Crosne are the only people who amuse me, and it is dull -in this bird-cage. He swears thou art clumsy with the small sword." - -"I--I clumsy! I should like to catch him somewhere. I was too fat; but -now!" and he smote his chest. "Didst thou think me clumsy--me, Pierre -Amar?" - -"I? No, indeed. These aristocrats think no one else can handle a -rapier. Ah, if I could fence with the citizen commissioner a little, -and then--" - -"Impossible." - -"He swears thou art coward enough to use the guillotine to settle a -quarrel, and that thou dost fence like a pigsticker." - -Amar, _le farouche_, swore an oath too blasphemous to repeat. The great -thick-lipped mouth moved half across so much of his face as could move -at all. He was speechless with rage, and at last gasped, as he struck -the table: "Me--Amar? Ah, I should like well to let him out and kill -him; and I would, too, but there are Saint-Just, and Couthon, and the -rest. Go; and take care how thou dost conduct thyself. Go! The _sacre_ -marquis must take his chance. Pig-sticker indeed!" - -Thus terminated this formidable interview; but, alas! it was now close -to the end of May, and in the background of June was the man with the -wart. - -The next day, in the garden, Francis related to the marquis his -interview with the dreaded Jacobin. The gentleman was delighted. - -"_Mon Dieu_! Francois, you are a great man; but I fear it will do no -good; my turn must be near. De Crosne and poor Fleury got their little -billets last evening, and are off on a voyage of discovery to-morrow, -along with M. de la Morne, and De Lancival, and more. They will be in -good society. Did you think that Jacobin Apollo would be pricked into -letting me out for the chance of killing me?" - -"It came near to that, monsieur. I did say that you were not much of a -blade, after all; that Citizen Amar was out of condition when you last -met; and that if he and I could fence a little,--outside, of course,--M. -le Marquis would regret the meeting." - -"Delicious! And he took it all?" - -"Yes, as little Annette takes a fairy-tale of M. Fleury's--who will tell -no more, poor fellow!" - -"But, after all, we are still here. I envy you the interview. -_Parbleu!_ these fellows do their best, but they can't take the jests -out of life. I hope the next world will be as amusing." - -As he ceased, Francois exclaimed: - -"By all the saints! there is that crazy fool Despard." - -"Despard--Despard?" repeated the marquis. "That is a contribution to the -show. How the mischief did he get here?" - -The unlucky Jacobin was wandering about like a lost dog, a shabby, -dejected figure. Toto, at play, recognized his master's former partner, -and jumped up in amiable recognition. Despard kicked him, and the -poodle, unaccustomed to rude treatment, fled to Francois. The thief's -long face grew savage and stern; to hurt Toto was a deadly offense. - -"Pardon, monsieur," he said to the marquis, and went swiftly to where -Despard stood against the wall. - -"Look here, rascal," said Francois; "if ever thou dost kick that dog -again, I will twist thy neck." - -Despard did not seem to take in his meaning. - -"It is thou, Francois. There is the _ci-devant_--the marquis. I -followed him. I--Pierre Despard--I denounced him. I did it. I am not -afraid." - -"Stuff! Didst thou hear me? What have I to do with _ci-devant_ -marquises? Thou hast kicked Toto." - -"I see him; I must speak with him." - -"_Fichtre!_ he is mad," said the thief, and went after him. - -At the coming of Despard, ragged, wild-eyed, excited, the group about -the tall gentleman turned. - -Despard paused before him. "It is my turn now! I followed--I -followed--I denounced thee--I, Pierre Despard. They will let me out -when thou art to die; it will be soon. I will take thy child--thy -bastard--my wife's child. We will go to see thee--I and thy -hunchback--to see thee on the tumbrel at the guillotine. She hath thy -own cold eyes--frozen eyes. Thou wilt know her by those when thou art -waiting--waiting--shivering." - -The marquis listened with entire tranquillity. - -"One or two more in the audience will matter little"; and, smiling, he -walked away. - -A strange tremor seized on the chin and lower lip of Despard. He said -to Francois, "Come with me," and then, in a bewildered manner, "He isn't -afraid yet. I--I want him to be afraid." - -"_Dame!_ thou wilt wait then till the cows roost and the chickens give -milk." - -"No; it will come." - -"Stuff! How camest thou here? Didst thou denounce thyself? I have -heard of men mad enough to do that." - -"No. Do not tell. I trust thee; I always did trust thee. I am a spy. -I am to stay here till I want to be let out, when he--he is tried. I -wanted to watch him. Some day he will have fear--fear--and--I--" - -"Well, of all the mad idiots! A mouse to walk into a trap of his own -accord! _Dieu!_ but the cheese must have smelt good to thee." - -"I shall go out when I want to go. Didst thou know his daughter is -dead? I am sorry she is dead." - -"Yes--God rest her soul!" - -"I am sorry she is dead because she cannot be here. I wish she were -here. If only she were here, it would be complete. Then he would be -afraid." - -"_Bon Dieu!_" cried several, "he will kill him!" The thief had caught -Pierre by the throat, and, scarce conscious of the peril of his own -strength, he choked the struggling man, and at last, in wild rage, -hurled him back amid a startled mass of tumbled people. - -"Beast!" muttered Francois, at his full height regarding angrily the -prostrate man. - -In an instant the jailers were at his side. "What is this?" said they. - -"He--he kicked my dog!" - -"Did he? Well, no more of this, citizen." - -"Then let him be careful how he kicks my dog; and take him away, or--" - -Pierre needed no further advice. - -Presently Ste. Luce came over to Francois. - -"What is wrong?" - -"He kicked my dog!" - -"Indeed? Do you know this man well? Once you warned me about him. -Where have you met?" - -"We juggled together, monsieur, when I used to read palms. He is a bit -off his head, I think." - -"'T is common in France just now, or else the reverse is. But he has a -damnably good memory. We of Normandy say, 'As is the beast, so are his -claws.' The fellow is of good blood in a way; but, _mon Dieu!_ he is a -coward to be pitied. To be through and through a coward does much -enlarge the limits of calamity. If I or if you were to hate a man, for -reasons good or bad, we would kill him. But a coward! What can he do? -He has his own ways, not mine or yours. His claws are not of the make -of mine. I have no complaint to make as to his fashion of revenging -himself; but really, revenge, I fancy, must lose a good deal of its -distinctness of flavor when it waits this long. It is, I should say, -quite twelve years--quite. There is a child, he says, or there was. Do -you chance to know anything about it?" - -"Yes." - -"Did you ever see it? Is it male or female?" - -"A girl, monsieur. I never saw it." - -"How old?" - -"I do not know." - -"Penitence becomes a question of dates, Francois. But it is true--true -that I never had the least talent for regret; and if a man is not -capable of regret, why, Francois, how the deuce can he achieve -penitence? Don't think I am joking, my most accomplished thief. There -are men here who--there is M. de--well, no matter. There are men here -who are honestly bewailing their past--well, amusements--sins, if you -please. I cannot. There are some here who, because they are noble by -descent, are making believe not to be afraid, and will make believe -until the knife falls. I am not penitent, because I am not; and as to -the knife, I have had a most agreeable life, and should never have gone -on living if life had ceased to amuse me." - -He was now silent awhile, his strong, handsome features clear to see, as -they lay on the scant grass in the sunshine. The thief had learned that -at times this great seigneur would talk, and liked to do so; and that at -other times he was to be left to the long silences which were difficult -to secure where this morbidly gay crowd, of all conditions of men, was -seeking the distraction of too incessant chat. - -He rose quietly, and went away to talk with Domville of the Comedie, who -himself was always glad of the company of Francois's cheery visage. - -In the salon, which was now deserted, he saw Despard. Pierre stood at -an open window, and was pulling at his fingers, as Francois had so often -seen him doing. He was gazing at the people in the yard. His eyes -wandered feebly here and there, as if without interest or purpose. His -attitude of dejection touched some chord of pity in his partner's heart. - -"Dame! he must have thought I was rough with him for a dog--a dog." He -had no mind to explain. - -Pierre turned to meet him. He was not angry, nor was he excited. The -shifting phases of his malady had brought to him again the horrible -misery of such melancholy as they who are sound of mind cannot conceive. -When this torture has a man in its grip, the past is as nothing; the -present a curse; duty is dead; the future only an assurance of continued -suffering; death becomes an unconsidered trifle; life--continued -life--an unbearable burden. - -Poor Pierre said no word of his ex-partner's recent violence. The tears -were running down his cheeks. The man at his side was, as usual, gaily -cheerful. - -"What is wrong with thee?" said Francois. "I was hard on thee, but thou -knowest--" - -"What is it?" replied Pierre. "I--it is no matter." - -Francois, surprised, went on: "Can I help thee?" - -"No. I cannot sleep; I cannot eat. I suffer. I am in a hell of -despair." - -"But how, or why, _mon ami_?" - -"I do not know. I suffer." - -"Rouse up a bit. Why didst chance to come here? I asked thee that -before. If thou canst get out, go at once. Thou art not fit to be in -this place. This devil of a marquis excites thee. To be a spy thou -shouldst be ashamed. Canst thou really get out when it pleases thee to -go?" - -"Why not?" said Pierre, in alarm. "Dost thou think they will not let me -go? I did not want to be a spy, but I was half starved. All I could -get I sent to keep my--his poor little hunchback. Vadier lent me some -money. I kept none, not a sou. I asked him to let me come here as a -spy. They say my reports are useless. I can't help that. I will go -out. I want to see that man suffer; I want to see him afraid. He is not -afraid. Dost thou think he is afraid?" - -"No." - -For a moment there was a pause, when Pierre, in a quiet, childlike -manner, said: "Dost thou think he ever will be afraid?" - -"No, Pierre; he never will be. What a fool thou art to have come here! -'T is not so easy to get out." - -"_Mon Dieu!_ don't say that. I--they said--" - -"Dost thou believe a Jacobin--and Vadier, the beast, of all men?" - -"Hush!" said Pierre, looking about him suspiciously. "I must go--I must -go. I must walk; I cannot keep still." - -He remained in this mood of subdued terror and the deepest melancholy -for some days. Then for a few hours he followed the marquis about, -proclaiming his own wrongs in a high-pitched voice. At last Ste. Luce -complained to the keeper, Vaubertrand, who hesitated to interfere, being -puzzled and fearful as to the amount of influence possessed by this spy -of the Committee of Safety. He mustered enough courage at last to tell -Despard that he must not speak to the marquis; and, as he luckily caught -him in his mood of despair and depression, the man timidly promised to -obey. - - - - - *XXI* - -_How Francois, having made a bargain with Citizen Amar, cannot keep it -with the man of the wart--How Despard dies in the place of the -marquis--Of Francois's escape from prison._ - - -The second week of June was over. The keeper, who had taken a fancy to -the merry thief, called him aside one afternoon, and said: - -"Thou must write thy report, because to-morrow comes Citizen Gregoire. -Thou canst use the office for an hour, as is permitted. But take care. -Thou dost know how they are treated in the prisons who are suspected of -making these reports to the committee. I will come for thee at dusk." - -Francois thanked him, and at the time mentioned was locked up in the -office; for despite Vaubertrand's amiability, he was careful as to the -security of his prisoners. As it was now dark, the office table was -lighted by two candles. He found pen and ink and paper, but no -competent thoughts. What was he to say--whom to accuse? He had made a -hasty contract with Amar, and was of no mind to fulfil his share of it. -He got up from the desk, and walked about. "The deuce!" he said to -Toto, who never left him. "'T is a scrape of our own making. I should -have told that scamp with the pretty face to go to the devil with his -spy business. _Sacristie!_ doggie, I am like that fellow in the play I -once saw. He sold his soul to the devil, and didn't want to pay up when -the time came. What to do?" He had told the marquis, whom he trusted, -of the difficulty he anticipated. - -Ste. Luce, much amused, said: "Take me for a subject. I am as sure to -die as an abbot's capon. If you have a conscience, it may rest easy so -far as I am concerned." - -Francois took it seriously. "I beg of you, monsieur--" - -"Oh, a good idea!" laughed the nobleman, breaking in upon his -remonstrance. "Tell them how you saw me kill three good citizens that -night on the stairs. By Mars! Francois, those twenty minutes were worth -living for. I was in a plot to rescue the king; tell them that." - -"Not I," grinned the thief. - -"Confound it! you are difficult." - -And now, as Francois recalled their talk, his task was not more easy. -He nibbled the end of his quill, and looked around him. At last, as he -walked to and fro, he began to exercise his natural inquisitiveness. It -was never long quiet. He stared at the barred windows. A set of -pigeonholes attracted him. He glanced hastily over their contents. -"_Tiens!_" he exclaimed. - -Every day or two, about 3 P.M., a clerk of the Committee of Safety -brought a great envelop stamped with the seal of the republic. Within -was a paper on which were clearly set out the names and former titles of -the citizen prisoners selected for trial the night before in joint -counsel by the Great Committee and that of Security. The keeper copied -each name on to the space in the blank summons kept for this use, and -these fatal papers were then duly delivered after supper. - -Francois looked at the packet. It was sealed. He knew well what it -meant. It was labeled: "Mandate of the Tribunals Nos. 4 and 5." - -"Toto, we may be among them; we must see." He looked about him. Here -were all the writing-table implements then in use. He heated a knife, -and neatly loosened the under wax of the seal. The death-call lay -before him. He ran over it with shuddering haste. - -"_Dieu!_ we are not there. But, _mon ami_, here is the marquis!" His -was the last name at the foot of the first page. Francois sat still, -his face in his hands. At any moment he might be caught. He did not -heed. - -"I must do it," he said. He saw, as it were before him, the appealing -face of the dead woman, and felt in remembrance the hand the great -seigneur had given him on the stair. He had a glad memory of a moment -which had lifted him on to the higher levels of self-esteem and manhood. - -"I will do it, Toto; 't is to be risked; and, _mon Dieu!_ the rest--the -rest of them!" Some he knew well. Some had been kind to him. One had -given him clothes when these were greatly needed. He was profoundly -moved. - -"If I burn it, 't is but to give them a day, and no more--if I burn it!" - -He took scissors from the table, and carefully cut off the half-inch at -the foot of the paper. It was now without the name "Ste. Luce, -_ci-devant_ marquis." He tore up the strip of paper, and put the -fragments in the fireplace, behind the unkindled logs. - -Next he casually turned the page. "_Ciel!_ this calls for eleven. I -have left but ten. They will think it a blunder. One will be wanting; -that is all." - -He used a little melted wax under the large seal, replaced the warrant -in the outer cover, and returned the document to the pigeonhole whence -he had taken it. This done, he sat down again, and began to write his -report. - -He found nothing to say, except that those he would have spoken of had -been already disposed of; and now he thought again that he would burn -the fatal paper. He rose resolute, but at this moment the head keeper -came back. - -Francois was sorry, but he was not used to writing, and made excuses -until at last the man said impatiently: - -"Well, thou must settle all that with Amar and Gregoire. I gave thee -time enough." Could he have another chance? He was told that he should -have it; but now it was supper-time; better not to be missing. He went -out and up-stairs to his place at table. - -He had lost his gaiety. Here and there at the table were the doomed men -and women. He could not eat, and at last left the room to wander in the -corridors. Pierre soon found him. He was eager, anxious, and full of -strange news. - -"When will that brute marquis be sent for? I was to go out to-day. -They have forgotten. There is trouble in the Great Committee. I hear -of it from Vaubertrand. Robespierre and Vadier think things go not fast -enough; and the rest--the rest, except little cripple Couthon and -Saint-Just, are opposing our great Robespierre." - -Francois began to be interested, and to ask questions. The gazettes -were no longer allowed in the prisons. The outer world was a blank to -all within their walls. - -Despard, flushed and eager, told him how daily the exit of the prisoners -for trial was met by a mob clamorous for blood. Then he began to -exhibit alarm. Did Francois think that he, Pierre, might by chance miss -the execution of the marquis? He would speak to Gregoire, who was -coming next morning. They should learn not to trifle with a friend of -Robespierre. When Francois left him he was gesticulating, and, as he -walked up and down the deserted corridor, was cracking his knuckles or -gnawing his nails. - -After supper the varied groups collected in the salon. The women -embroidered. A clever artist was busy sketching the head of a girl of -twenty for those she loved, who were to see her living face no more. -Some played at cards. Here and there a man sat alone, waiting, stunned -by the sure approach of death. The marquis was in gay chat with the -Vicomte de Beausejour. - -"Ah, here is my mysterious gentleman!" cried Ste. Luce. "They have bets -on you. Tell these gentlemen who you really are. They are puzzled." - -Francois smiled. He was pleased to do or say anything which would take -his thoughts off the near approach of the messenger of doom. He said: - -"M. le Marquis knows that I am under an oath." - -"_Pardie!_ true, true; I have heard as much." - -"The bets stand over," said a gray old man, M. de l'Antilhac. "We knew -you as a juggler." - -"Yes, and a fencing-master," said Du Pin. - -"You are both right. These times and the king's service set a man to -strange trades. Well, gentlemen, I am not to be questioned. Tales lose -heads." - -They laughed. "Pardon me," said a younger man. "The marquis was about -to tell us of the delightful encounter you had on his staircase. 'T is -like a legend of the days of Henri IV of blessed memory." - -"Tell them," said Ste. Luce. - -"The marquis does me much--_Dieu!_" Francois cried, and fell back into a -chair, weak as a child. The turnkey went by him with the fatal -missives. - -"Art thou ill?" said De l'Antilhac. "What is it?" - -"Yes," said Francois. "Excuse me. He--he--" And, as it were -fascinated, he rose and went after the keeper. - -Vaubertrand paused behind a gentleman who was playing piquet. - -"Citizen Ste. Michel," he said, and passed on, as he laid the summons -before the player. - -"At last!" said the man thus interrupted. "Quatre to the king--four -aces. Let it wait." - -Vaubertrand moved on. Francois followed him. - -The calls to trial and death were distributed. A man rolled up the -fatal paper without a word, and lighted his pipe with it. One of those -who sat apart took his summons, and fell fainting on the floor. - -"Nothing for me?" said the marquis. - -"Not yet, citizen." - -"I was never before so neglected." - -The game went on. Here and there a woman dropped her embroidery and sat -back, thinking of the world to come, as she rolled the deadly call to -trial in her wet fingers, and took refuge in the strength of prayer. - -Francois felt as if it were he who had condemned these people. He went -to his cell, and tossed about all night, sleepless. Rising early, he -went out into the garden. After breakfast the keeper said to him: - -"Thou shouldst have had thy report ready. Gregoire is coming to-day. -He is before his time. If he is drunk, as usual, there will be trouble. -That fool Despard is wild to-day. He will be sure to stir up some -mischief. All the _mouchards_ will be called." - -"Despard is an idiot. He is raving one day, and fit to kill himself the -next. Get him out of this." - -"_Dame_! I should be well pleased. He swears I keep him here. He -will--ah, _mon Dieu!_ the things he threatens. I am losing my wits. My -good Francois, I have been kind to thee, and I talk rashly. I wish I -had done with it all." - -"And I too, citizen; but thou art safe with me." - -As the jailer spoke, he looked over his list of those summoned. "_Sacre -bleu!_ here is a list which calls for eleven, and there are only ten -names!" - -"Some one has made a mistake." - -"No doubt. But Gregoire never listens. Pray God he be sober. Be in -the corridor at nine; Gregoire will want to see thee." - -Francois would be on hand. As to the report, he should wish to ask how -to draw it up. He found a quiet corner in the courtyard, and began to -think about the man with the wart--the man of whom he knew so little, -and whom he feared as he had never before feared a man. The every-day -horror and disturbance of the morning had begun. Officers were coming -and going; names were called; there were adieus, quiet or heartrending. -The marquis was tranquilly conversing, undisturbed by the scene, which -was too common to trouble those who had no near friend or relation in -the batch of prisoners called for trial. Francois had seen it all, day -after day. It always moved him, but never as now. - -He stood looking at a young woman who was sitting with the order in her -lap, her eyes turned heavenward as if in dumb appeal. Now and then she -looked from one man to another, as if help must come. - -Francois glanced at the marquis; he was the center of a laughing group, -chatting unconcerned. - -"_Ciel!_ has the man no heart?" he murmured. "Why did I save him even -for a day? The good God knows. It must make life easy to be like him." -The marquis would have been amazed to know that the memory of a white, -sad woman's face, and of one heroic hour, had given him a new lease of -life. - -"Ah, Toto," said the thief to himself, "we held that stair together, he -and I." The thought of an uplifting moment overcame him. A sudden -reflection that he might have been other than he was flushed his face. - -"Ah, my friend Toto, we could have been something; we missed our chance -in the world. Well, thou dost think we had better make a fight for it. -Life is agreeable, but not here. Let us think. There is one little -card to play. Art thou up to it? Yes! I must go now. Thou wilt wait -here, and thou wilt not move. In an hour I shall be with thee; and, -meanwhile, behold a fine bone. No, not yet, but when I come. -Attention, now!" - -He turned his back to the prison, took off a shoe, and extracted a -paper, which he folded so as to be small and flat. Then he produced a -bit of a kid glove he had asked from Mme. Cerise of the Comedie -Francaise. In it he laid the paper, and put the little packet, thus -protected, in the dog's mouth. "Keep it," he said. "It is death--it is -life." The dog lay down, his sharp black nose on his paws, shut his -eyes, and seemed to be asleep. He had done the thing before. - -When Francois entered the corridor he found the keeper. - -"Come," said Vaubertrand. "The commissioner is in a bad way, and drunk, -too. He is troubled, I think, and the citizens who are outside reproach -him that the supply for the guillotine is small, and the prisons full. -What have I done to be thus tormented? There will be a massacre. -_Ciel!_ I talk too much. I have favored thee. Take care--and thou -canst laugh yet." Whereupon Francois laughed anew, and went after him. - -The large hall on the first floor was unusually full. There was much -confusion. The great street door, as it was opened wide and shut again -in haste, gave a not reassuring glimpse of men in red bonnets roaring -the _Ca ira_. Over all rose the shrill tongues of the women of the -markets. A new batch of prisoners was pushed in, the keeper declaring -he had no room. Officers of the Committee of Safety untied the hands of -the newcomers, and ranged them on stone benches to the left. On the -right were those who were called to trial. Francois stood aside, -watchful. - -Pierre Despard was waiting, flushed and anxious. As a spy, he had leave -from Vaubertrand to descend in order to state his case to Gregoire. He -went hither and thither, noisy, foolish, gesticulating. He was now in -his alternate mood of excitement, and soon began to elbow his way toward -the office. - -"Citizen La Vaque is summoned." - -A tall man answered from the bench. Then another and another was -called. The officers went down the line, and, paper in hand, verified -the prisoners. They were taken, one by one, into a side room by a -second officer, and their hands secured behind their backs. - -At last the first officer said: "Here are but ten, Citizen Vaubertrand, -and the list calls for eleven. The keeper must see the commissioner." -The officer in charge reproached Vaubertrand for neglect. The man with -the wart came out from the office. - -"Silence!" he cried. "What is this?" - -The matter was explained, or was being set forth, when the door opened, -and another half-dozen unfortunates were rudely thrust in, while the -crowd made a furious effort to enter. Gregoire turned pale. - -"Thou shalt answer for this. Find another. I shall hear of it, and -thou, too." - -Meanwhile, Despard, too insane to observe Gregoire's condition, and lost -to all sense of anything but his own sudden wish to escape, was -frantically pulling the furious commissioner by the arm. - -"Citizen," he cried, "I must be heard! Dost hear? Thou wilt repent. I -am the friend of Robespierre." - -Gregoire paid no attention; he was half drunk, and raging at poor -Vaubertrand. - -"I will report thee," cried Despard. "I denounce thee!" - -Gregoire turned upon him in a rage. - -"Who is this?" he cried. - -"I am Despard of the fourth section. I will let thee know who I am." -In his madness he caught Gregoire by the collar and shook him. - -Gregoire called out: "Take away this fool! What! threaten -me--me--Gregoire! All, thou art the rascal who plunders chateaux. I -know thee. Thou dost threaten an officer of the Committee of Safety. -Tie this fellow; he will do for the eleventh. Quick, quick!" - -There was no hesitation. The officers seized their prey, and Gregoire, -growling, went again into the office. - -Pierre fought like the madman he was, but in a minute was brought back -screaming and added to the corvee. It was complete. He was carried out -raving, amid the yells and reproaches of the mob, which broke up and -went along with the wagons. - -Again there was quiet in the hall, where the thief stood in wonder, -horror-stricken. "It is I that have killed him--he who did long to see -another die. And for him to die in the place of the marquis--_dame!_ it -is strange." - -"_Ciel!_" cried Vaubertrand, wiping the sweat from his brow. "This is -the second they took this way to make up for some one's blunder. Come, -and have a care what you say. He is half drunk." - -Francois entered the office. - -"Who is this?" said Gregoire, facing him, with his large, meaningless -face still flushed and angry. - -Vaubertrand pushed forward the reluctant Francois. "It is one of the -reporters, citizen commissioner." - -"Ahem! One of Citizen Amar's appointments," said Gregoire. "Thou canst -go, Citizen Vaubertrand"; and he looked up as he sat at the table. - -"Thy name?" - -"Francois," said the thief. - -"Thy occupation?" - -"Juggler." - -The citizen commissioner was on the uncertain line between appearance of -sobriety obtained by effort and ebriety past control. As he -interrogated Francois his head dropped forward. He recovered himself -with a sharp jerk, and cried sharply: - -"Why dost thou not answer? I said, How didst thou get here, and who -gave thee thy order to report?" - -"Citizen Amar; he is a friend of mine." - -"Is he? Well, where is thy _sacre_ report?" - -"I should like to tell the citizen commissioner what I have to say. -I--I did not know just how to frame it." - -Meanwhile Gregoire was considering him with unsteady eyes. "Ah, now I -have it; now I remember thee. Thou art an _ex-emigre_. I shall attend -to thee. It was thou who stole my wallet of papers; and thou couldst -laugh, too. _Ciel!_ what a laugh! Try it now." - -Francois replied that he was no _emigre_; as to the rest, he could -explain; and leaning over, he said quietly: - -"You will do well to hear what I have to say." - -"'You will do well'! Idiot! Why dost thou say 'you, you'? Cursed -aristocrat that thou art! Say 'thou' when thou dost address me, or I -shall--where is that report?" - -"If the citizen will listen. There was in that wallet a little paper -addressed to Citizen de la Vicomterie. _Dame!_ it was good reading, and -I have it still." - -"Thou hast it? Thou wilt not have it long." - -Gregoire was not over-intelligent, and had now the short temper of -drink. The prisoner tried to get a moment in which to explain that -another held the document. - -Gregoire was past hearing reason. "Officers, here! here!" he cried. -"Search this man! Search him. Strip him. Here! here!" - -Francois did not stir. "When thou hast done we can talk." - -"Hold thy tongue! Search him." - -"_Ma foi_, marquis," said the thief, later, "they did it well. They -even chopped up the heels of my shoes. And my coat! _Sacre_! The good -keeper gave me another. In our cell, as I learned, they went through -the beds and Heaven knows what else. I was well pleased, I can tell -thee, when it was all over." - -The commissioner had now cooled down. "Put on thy clothes," said -Gregoire, and himself shut the door. It was Francois's turn. - -"Citizen," he said, "didst thou think me fool enough to leave within -reach that little letter of thine to the good citizen of the -committee--to--ah, yes, La Vicomterie is his name. I am not an -_emigre_, only a poor devil of a thief and a juggler. I do not love -Citizen Robespierre any better than some others love him--some I could -name. But one must live, and the day I go out to thy infernal tribunal, -Robespierre will have thy letter. A friend will go himself and lay it -before the committee." - -Gregoire grew deadly pale, all but the wart, which remained red. "I am -betrayed!" - -"Wait a little. Thou art not quite lost, but thou wilt be unless--" - -"Unless what?" - -"Unless thou wilt open that door and set me free. I have no grudge -against thee. I will arrange to have for thee the letter, and must -receive from thee a new _carte de surete_, and a good passport on -business of the Committee of Safety." - -The commissioner was partly sobered. "How shall I know that thou wilt -keep thy word?" - -"Thou wilt not know until I do. Why should I not?" - -"But the letter may be lost." - -"Well, what then? Thou wilt be safe, and have one less life to answer -for to the devil when he gets thee." - -"Talk business. There is no devil." - -"I don't agree with thee. His name is Robespierre. The mischief is that -it is I who do not trust thee. Thou hast a wart, citizen. Men who have -warts are unlucky to meet. But take care, because I am a desperate man, -and most extremely value my head. If thou shouldst fail to--" - -"No, no; I promise." - -"Good, then." - -"Wait; I will write out the papers." - -"I shall not hurry thee. I must pack up. I will be back in half an -hour. Be so kind as to arrange that I may return without hindrance." - -Francois went at once to the garden, and called Toto. Then he hastened -to his _cachot_, or cell, and, finding himself alone, shut the door, -took the little packet from Toto's mouth, and gave him the promised -bone. He placed the paper inside his stocking, and secured it with a -pin. Next he gathered up his small effects, left his mangled coat on -the bed of a fellow-prisoner, and descended thoughtfully to the office. - -He was glad to see that the man of the wart was sitting apparently -inattentive to the piles of accounts before him. "Clearly, the citizen -is worried," said Francois to himself. - -"I have thy papers. One had to be sent out for a signature. Here is -thy card of safety, and reapproved as that of a citizen who has -denounced an _ex-emigre_. Also, behold a passport, and an order from -the Committee of Safety to leave Paris on business of the republic. All -are in the name of Citizen Francois, juggler." - -"The citizen has been thoughtful." - -"_Sacre_! I never do things by halves; I am thorough. And now, as to -the paper?" - -"It will be best for thee to come, at twelve to-day, to No. 33 _bis_ Rue -Perpignan. There I will take thee to my old room, or another, and make -good my side of the bargain. After that, I have the agreeable hope -never to meet thee again." - -"I will be there at noon." - -Francois's watchful ear detected a certain emphasis on the "I" of this -phrase, which made him suspicious. He said quietly: - -"Citizen, thou hast sold me my head. I shall give thee thine. -Afterward I shall be in thy power." - -"Yes, yes; that might be so with Amar or Couthon, but not with Andre -Gregoire." - -"_Tiens!_" said the thief, "what is this? 'Andre'? This order is signed -'Alphonse Gregoire.' The citizen must have been absent-minded. Look!" - -Gregoire flushed. "True, true. I will write a second. I was -troubled." - -Francois stood still, received the second order, and, saying, "_Au -revoir_, citizen," was about to leave, when a thought seemed to strike -him. He paused. "There is here a _ci-devant_ marquis you may -recall--Ste. Luce." - -"Well?" - -"Put his name at the foot of the file of the accused and keep it there. -Get a clerk to do it. The citizen is aware that it is done every day." - -"Impossible! Art thou insane? I run risk enough with thy order and -passport. But this I dare not do. There are limits." - -"Do it, or I throw up my bargain. By Heaven, I am in earnest! Come, -what will it cost? Will one hundred louis d'or do the business?" - -Gregoire reflected. What more simple than to say yes, pocket the money, -and let things take their course? - -"I will do it for that--I mean I can have it done." - -"Then give me ten minutes." - -"I will wait." - -The rich throughout these evil days were allowed to have in prison as -much money as they could get from without. About March of this sad year -they were told that they must feed the poorer captives, and were -regularly assessed. Francois was aware that the marquis was well -provided. He found him in the garden, and asked him to step aside. - -"I am free, monsieur," he said. "No matter how. And I have bargained -for your own head." He briefly related so much of his talk with -Gregoire as concerned the marquis. - -Ste. Luce looked at him. "_Pardie_! You are an unusual type of -thief--or man. I would thank you if I considered my head worth much. -But, after all, it is a natural attachment one's body has for one's -head, or one's head for one's body, to put it correctly. Will it be -wasted money, my admirable thief, or will the rascal keep his word?" - -"Yes; he will keep his word--after we get through with the affair." - -"You are a great man, Francois, but I have not the money. I lost it -last night to Delavigne. I will get the loan of it. Rather a new idea -to borrow one's head! Wait a little." He came back in a few minutes. -"It pretty well cleaned out two of them. Good luck to you; and if ever -we are out of this hole, we must fence a little. By the way, I hear -they took that poor devil Despard to-day. It is a relief. He bored me -atrociously." - -"Yes; they took him in your place, monsieur. It was to have been -to-day--" - -"To-day! In my place? _Tiens!_ that is droll." - -"Yes." - -"But how--why?" - -"No matter now. I will tell monsieur some day." - -"Are you a magician, Master Francois?" - -"I was. But I did not desire this man's death." - -"And the guillotine will have him, and he will not be on hand to see me -scared. _Ciel!_ but it is strange. Alas! the disappointments of this -mortal life! Good luck to you, and _au revoir_. I thank you." - -A few minutes later, Gregoire, having carefully disposed of the gold -about his ample person, escorted Citizen Francois to the outer door. -The look with which the commissioner with the wart regarded the -retreating back and the big ears of Francois was unfriendly, to say the -least. - - - - - *XXII* - -_Wherein is told how Francois baits a crab-trap with the man of the -wart._ - - -Francois understood the risks of his position. For a time he was safe. -After he gave up that precious paper he would be at Gregoire's mercy. -"More or less," muttered the thief, with a laugh which set Toto to -capering. He went toward the Seine, looked in the shop-windows, and had -a bite and a good bottle of wine, for the marquis had insisted on giving -him ten louis for his own use. About half-past eleven he turned into -the Rue Perpignan, and rang the bell at No. 33 bis. - -"Come, Toto," he said, as he went in. "We owe Mme. Quatre Pattes a -little debt. Let us be honest and pay." He closed the door behind him, -and heard the sharp voice of the concierge: "Who goes there? Speak, or I -will be after thee." He drew back, and looked in through the glassed -door of the Crab's room. He knew she would not sally out. Why should -she? Her house was only a hive of thieves and low women, who were driven -away when they could not pay, and who rarely plundered one another. - -He had never before so carefully inspected his landlady. She was seated -at a table, about to drink a cup of cocoa. The room, the table, the -little well-swept hearth, were all as clean as care and work could keep -them. The woman herself was no less neat than her surroundings, yet she -seemed one who belonged to the sties of the Cite's lowest life. There -was something strangely feline in the combination of animal appearance -with the notable cleanliness of her patched clothes, her person, and her -abode. Her back, bent forward from the waist, and rigid, forced her to -turn her head up and to one side to attain a view of the face of man. -The same need kept her red eyes wide open. The malady which caused this -distortion had ceased to be active. It had scarcely affected her -general health. Like many of those who have suffered from the more -common forms of the disease which makes the hunchback, she possessed -amazing strength. - -Now, as Francois stood hesitating, watchful, she sat at table before -him, intent on her meal, looking here or there for bread or salt, her -head swaying from side to side. - -"If she were to bite a man, he would be as good as dead," murmured the -thief. "What is it she is like? Ah, 't is the vipers in the wood of -Fontainebleau. _Bonjour, maman_," he cried gaily, as he went in. - -Taken by a sharp surprise, she gripped at her two sticks on the table, -but missed them. They fell clattering, and her shaky hands dropped on -her lap. She lacked not courage. As she sat crouched, the bald head, -red-eyed and vigilant, was held back to watch this enemy. - -Toto ran in, and fawned at her feet. - -"Enchanted to see you, _maman_." By this time she had her wits about -her, and, hearing no accusing charges, felt more at ease. - -"Come back again, art thou, my fine thief-bird? Did he fly to his nest? -Ha! he knows who will take care of him. That _sacre_ shoemaker it was -who denounced thee. Didst thou think it was thy little maman? Thou -didst scold me. But how didst thou get out?" - -"Ah, no matter now," said Francois. "I have work on hand for thee. If -I mistrusted thee, it is not here I should have come. Sometime we will -have a little _eau-de-vie_ and a pipe, _maman_, and I will tell thee all -about it. Wouldst thou serve the republic, and be well paid for it? -Here, take thy sticks; thou art fit for anything only when thou hast all -thy four legs. Listen, now; and, to begin, thou canst read a -little--enough to understand this passport, and this order from the -Great Committee of Safety?" - -She looked eagerly over the papers. "Yes, yes." - -"And thou canst read this still better." He let a gold louis drop on -the table. She put out a claw, and, failing through tremor to pick it -up, drew it to the edge, and for a moment held it under her eyes; then -she put it into her mouth, and, apparently satisfied, chewed on it, -moving her lower jaw from side to side. - -"A good purse, _maman_. It would be a bold man or a blind would steal -thy head for the gold. Heads always lose in our France to-day; thy own -is none too sure, _maman_." - -"If thou art thinking to scare Quatre Pattes, it won't do. Ha! it won't -pay." She looked as if it would not. - -Francois saw that he had made a misplay. He laughed his best. "_Nom de -diable!_ thou didst like a joke once. No matter. My time is short. I -expect a citizen in a few minutes. Is my old room empty?" - -"Yes, and half the rest. I tell thee, _mon fils_, I have missed thee." - -"Give me the key, and pen, ink, and paper. These will do. Thy ink is -dry. A little water--so. I shall come down in a minute or two, and -take the citizen up with me. After that I shall come down alone. The -citizen will be locked up." - -"Good. Will he be alive? I will have no tricks; they get one into -trouble." - -"Alive! Yes; he will howl." - -"Ah, he will howl. What shall I get?" - -"He will pay to get out." - -"He will pay--how much?" - -"One--two--three hundred francs." - -"Pshaw! Paper?" - -"No; gold. At four to-morrow--no later, no sooner--at four to-morrow -thou wilt let him out; and, mind thee, Dame Quatre Pattes, this is -business of the republic. What happens to him after he is let out is of -no moment. He may very likely make a fuss; he is bad-tempered. Wilt -thou take the risk?" - -"I--Quatre Pattes? Three hundred francs! I?" - -"If I return not to give further orders before twelve, thou mayst ask -the municipals to be here at four. That will save trouble. He will then -be in no way to swear thou hast his money. That may be the best plan. -I have no mind to get thee into trouble. Now, hold thy tongue; and -remember, it will be the little cripple Couthon who will reckon with -thee if in this business thou dost fail." - -"This is all very well if thou dost not return; but who will pay me if -thou art of a mind to come and take him away thyself?" - -"'T is a sharp old Crab," laughed Francois. "If I come for him, I -promise thee he shall pay thee full rent; and here is his _denier a -Dieu, maman_." He cast another louis in her lap. "If I come not by -noon, get all you can, and denounce him as a suspect; but remember--not -till four." - -"_Queue du diable_! 'T is a fine transaction," cried the Crab, and -knocked her sticks together for emphasis. "We will bleed him like a -doctor; we will send in the bill under the door; and then--we will have -some nice municipals for sextons. Ha! ha! It is well to have the -credit on one's little _carte de surete_." - -Francois assured her that the plan was good. At this point, however, -she became suddenly suspicious. She stood crouching over her sticks, the -snake-like head slowly moving from side to side, her eyes searching the -thief's smiling face. "Why is the man to be kept? What is it?" - -He expected this. "Ask Couthon the palsied that, thou imbecile. I will -take him elsewhere. There are a dozen houses where they ask no -questions. Yes or no?" - -"Yes, yes!" Caution was put to sleep by greed; or, more truly, by want, -which was nearing its extremity. - -He felt secure. "If he should ring before I get down-stairs, let him -wait. Now, the ink and key." - -"Is he to make his will? Thou wilt not be long?" - -"No; I want something that I left." - -"Ah! thou didst leave something?" - -"Yes, and thou didst not find it, _maman_. Fie, fie, for a clever -woman! Well, if thou didst not find it, few could. Wait, now." - -He went swiftly up-stairs with Toto, and unlocked the door, leaving the -key outside in the lock. He put the writing-materials on a table. In -the chimney, just within reach of his farthest touch, he found his -pistol. It was not loaded, and he had no powder to recharge it. He -laughed as, putting it behind him in his waist-belt, under his cloak, he -descended the stair. - -"All is right. _Cordon_, if you please," he cried from the hall. He -had not waited outside five minutes when Gregoire appeared, in ordinary -dress, without the official feathered hat or the scarf of a functionary. -He was now sober enough, but uneasy, and looked about him as if fearing -recognition. - -"Come," said Francois. They mounted the ill-smelling stairway to the -attic. Neither spoke. Once they were within the room, Francois said: -"Sit down." He took a stool, placing himself between Gregoire and the -door. "To business," he said, and slipped out the famous letter from -Gregoire to De la Vicomterie. He glanced at it, laughing. "There are -three or more heads in this," he said. "Robespierre would pay well for -it, or Saint-Just. One might put it up at auction. There would be high -bidding." - -Gregoire said: "I have paid for it. Give it to me--give it to me!" - -"No hurry, commissioner." The thief enjoyed the situation. "Let us -talk a little. Let us make things a trifle safer. Have the kindness to -write a receipt for one hundred louis d'or accepted by thee as security -for the head of one Louis de Ste. Luce, _ci-devant_ marquis." - -"Not I!" cried Gregoire, starting up. - -"Ah, I think thou wilt"; and, with this, Francois drew his quite -harmless pistol, and cocked it. - -"Dost thou mean to murder me? Help! help! Murder!" - -Francois seized him by the throat and thrust him down on to the chair. - -"The devil! Fat fool! must I really kill thee? Hold thy tongue. Toto," -he said, "just look at this gentleman. He is afraid, a coward--he who -has killed so many--so many brave men and women, who died and showed no -fear. Keep the door, Toto. There, now, citizen; write it, and quick, -too, or--" - -"But it is my death." - -"What do I care? It is certain death unless thou dost keep faith. Once -the marquis is free, and I am secure, I will burn it. That is all. -Thou art forced to trust me. The situation is simple, and rather -different from what it was at nine this morning. Thou art trapped." - -It was true, and Gregoire knew it. He drew his chair to the table, and -wrote a few lines as the thief dictated. Francois added a request for a -date. "Thou art not clever with a pen," he said; "thy hand shakes." - -"I am a lost man!" - -"No; by no means. But look out for my marquis. He ought to be very -precious to thee, because--because if there should be any accident to -him or to me, my friend will promptly place this harmless receipt in the -hands of Saint-Just; and then--" - -Gregoire sat in a cold sweat, saying at intervals: "I am lost. Let me -go." - -"Not quite yet. Give me ten louis." - -"I--I can't. I left the money at home." - -"Thou art lying. I heard it rattle when I shook thee. I might take it -all. I am generous, just, like the incorruptible man with the green -around his eyes, one Robespierre. Come, now." - -Gregoire, reluctant, counted out the gold. "Let me go," he said. There -were scarce left in him the dregs of a man. He rose, pale and -tottering. - -"Not quite yet, my friend. Thou wilt wait here a little while. Then a -citizen hag will come up and let thee out. But be careful; no noise. -The gentlemen who inhabit this mansion like not to be disturbed in their -devotions. Moreover, they are curious, and generally inquisitive as to -purses. Thou hast a few hours for reflection on thy sins. Pray -understand that this little paper will be put in the hands of a friend -of the marquis; I shall not keep it. The trap will be well set. Am I -clear?" - -The commissioner made no reply. - -"I forgot," said Francis. "Here is thy letter. I keep my word. The -receipt is enough." - -The compromising document lay on the table, unnoticed by Gregoire. He -fell back, limp and cowed, gripping the seat with both hands to save -himself from slipping ont of the chair. The sweat ran down his face. -When Francois, calling to the poodle, left him alone, he made no motion; -he was like a beaten cur. - -"Come, Toto," said Francois, as he locked the door. "That for his wart! -It is not as big as it used to be, and it is not in the middle of his -nose." He went down to the room of the concierge, and threw the key of -his room in her lap. - -"He is very quiet, thy patient up-stairs; he hath a chill." - -Quatre Pattes, standing by, nodded, and looked up. "Is he alive? No -lies, young man." - -"Alive? Not quite; only well scared. Imagine thyself one day on the -red stair, and the basket all ready, and so neat,--thou art fond of -neatness,--all as clean as thy room; and the knife--" - -"Shut up that big jaw! I am Quatre Pattes. Dost thou want to frighten -me?" - -"I? By _St. Fiacre_, no! I only want to let thee understand how the -citizen on the fourth floor feels." - -"He will bleed the better, my dear." She rattled the sticks, and looked -up at Francois, her head swaying as the head of the cobra sways. She -was still in some doubt as to this too ready pupil, whom she had taught -so much. "Art thou trying to fool Mother Quatre Pattes?" - -"Oh, stuff! Go up and speak to the man. But take care; this is no -light matter to put thy claws into. The man will rage; but a day -without diet will quiet him a good bit. Then thou canst begin to make -thy little commercial arrangement." - -"Two hundred--three hundred. No rags, no assignats." - -"Might get four hundred, Mother Crabby. There will be two sides to the -question." - -The old woman laughed a laugh shrill and virulent. - -"Two sides? I see--inside and outside. All right." - -Francois stood in the doorway as she spoke. - -"By-by, _maman_; and don't frighten him too much. Thy style of beauty is -not to the taste of all men. Folks are really afraid of thee, _maman_. -Don't make it a part of the bargain that he marry thee." - -"Good idea, that! And when shall I see thee?" - -"Possibly to-morrow; certainly within a week or so. I may have a few -days' work for the committee in Villefranche--dirty country, filthy -inns, not like thy room"; and he glanced at it. "I always do like to -see how neat it is, and how clean. It would please Sanson. He is so -particular; keeps things clean and ready--always ready." - -"'T is true," said Quatre Pattes, and clattered away up the hall. - -Francois heard her sticks on the stair, and her shrill laughter. "Thy -cheese is poisoned, old rat," he said. - -Once secure of the absence of his too observant landlady, Francois -called to Toto and went out of the house. It was now about half-past -one. No suspicious persons were visible. He had doubted this Gregoire. -He had no mind to leave Paris, but when asking a passport he meant that -Gregoire should think he had done so. He moved away, with the dog at -his heels, and presently stood awhile in deep thought, at the end of the -street. Gregoire was safe; he could harm no one for a day, and after -that would be the last man in Paris to trouble Francois. Amar was to be -feared, but that was to be left to chance and cautious care. Quatre -Pattes? He smiled. "'T is as fine as a play, Toto. Here comes the -last act. Can we go away and not see it?" He looked back. The -shoemaker whom the Crab had wished him to denounce, with a view to the -eternal settlement of her debts, was standing at his door in the sun, -just opposite to No. 33 bis. It was a good little man, lame of a leg, -hard-working and timid. - -"It is not to be resisted, Toto. Come, my boy." He went back, and -pulled the bell at No. 33 bis. No one answered. He rang three times, -and became sure that, as he had anticipated, the Crab had at once gone -up to see how much of truth there was in his statement. - -[Illustration: "HE PULLED THE BELL AT No. 33 BIS."] - -Thus assured, he looked about him. He saw no one he had need to fear. -He crossed the street, and spoke to the cobbler. - -"Come into thy shop; I want to speak to thee." When within, he said: "I -have been arrested, and let out--praise be to the saints! I have just -now seen the old Crab. She owes thee money?" - -"Not much." - -"No matter. She has asked me to denounce thee, my poor friend. I came -to warn thee." - -The cobbler gasped. "_Dieu!_ and my little ones! I have done nothing--I -assure thee, nothing." - -"Nor I, my friend. Now, listen. I am lucky enough to be in a little -employment for the Great Committee. I mean to save thee." - -"And canst thou do that?" - -"Yes, yes. Something will happen to-morrow, about four o'clock; and -after that no fear of the hag. I must see it; it is my business. Can I -stay a day--I mean until then--in the little room here above thy shop?" - -"Why not? The children are with my sister. They shall stay till -to-morrow night." - -He followed the overjoyed cobbler up to the room above his shop, sent -him out to buy food and wine, and sat down to await events. The cobbler -came back with a supply of diet and the gazettes. Francois sat behind -the slats of the green window-shades, and laughed, or talked to Toto, or -read, while at intervals he watched No. 33 bis. He read of how -Charleroi had been taken, and of the recovery of Fleurus. It interested -him but little. - -"They have cut off the head of the devil, and got a new god, my good -poodle. _Tenes_! Hold! Attention!" He saw Quatre Pattes clatter out. -It was about 4 P.M. She had no market-net. She was decisively bent on -some errand, and moved with unusual celerity, her back bent, her head -strained upward to get a sufficient horizon. - -"It is altogether pleasant, _ami_. She will not wait till twelve -to-morrow. She has gone to denounce him. Get up. Here is a nice bite -for thee. She is shrewd, our snake. If she plunders M. Gregoire,--and -she will, too,--she knows what he will do when he is out. He will -denounce her. The play is good, Toto. The money she will have, if we -know her. But, mm ami, if he makes her believe through the door that he -is the great Gregoire of the wart, and she lets him out, and is scared, -and asks no pay, Toto, 't is nevertheless a scotched snake she will be. -The Wart will want to be revenged for low diet and loss of the -republic's time. _Mordieu_! Toto, let us bet on it." - -He read his gazettes, and waited. At six that afternoon the Crab came -home. At nine Francois went to bed. Twice he awakened, laughing; he -was thinking about Gregoire. The cobbler came in at six with breakfast, -and Francois warned him to be careful. - -At ten in the morning Quatre Pattes appeared at her door, and chatted -with one or two dames of the fish-market. She rattled her sticks, and -talked volubly. She was in the best of humors. - -No new thing took place till three o'clock, when two municipal guards -paused at her door. She came forth, spoke to them, and went in, leaving -the door open. A third joined them. They loitered about. Ten minutes -went by. Francois grew more and more eager as he watched. - -"Ho, ho, Toto," he exclaimed, "there was a noise! The fool! she has gone -up alone to let him out." - -It was true. Gregoire had yielded in all some three hundred francs, -and, as ordered, had slipped the money under the door, piece by piece, -while Quatre Pattes sat and counted it with eyes of greed. She came -down and hid the last of it. Now she went up again, rather liking the -errand. She was absolutely fearless. She opened the door, and stood -aside. "Come out," she said, "little man." - -Gregoire was past restraining his rage. "She-devil!" he cried, and -struck at her in a fury of passion. He ran past her down the stairs, -the terrible woman after him. She was wonderfully quick, but the man's -fear was quicker. At the last stairway she found him beyond her reach, -and, cursing him in fluent slang of the quarter, she threw one of her -sticks at him. It caught him on the back of the neck, and he fell -headlong into the hallway. In an instant he was up and staggering into -the street. As he came forth two guards seized him. "In the name of -the law!" Quatre Pattes came swiftly after him, screaming out: "Take -him! I denounce him! He is an aristocrat!" - -What she and Francois saw was unpleasant for her. - -"_Nom de Ciel!_ 't is the Citizen Gregoire!" cried the third guard. - -Gregoire was for an instant speechless and breathless. The guards fell -back. - -"Arrest me?--me, Gregoire! Have you an order to arrest me?" He was not -quite at ease. - -"No, no, citizen. It is clearly a mistake. We were to arrest a -_ci-devant_." - -Quatre Pattes stood up, pallid. - -"Take this woman!" cried Gregoire. "I will send an order. The -Chatelet, and quick!" - -"The little trap did work," cried Francois, behind his screen. "How she -squeals--like a pig, a pig! She will give up the money. The citizens -and she disappear within." - -[Illustration: "'THE LITTLE TRAP DID WORK,' CRIED FRANCOIS, BEHIND HIS -SCREEN."] - -"This woman stole it!" roared the great man, as they came out. "Take -her away." - -When they came to lay final hands on her, she was like a cat in a -corner. - -"_Chien de mon ame_! 't is a fine scrimmage," cried Francois, "and the -street full." - -The sticks rattled; and when they were torn from her, she used tooth and -claw, to the joy of a crowd appreciative of personal prowess. At last -she was carried away, screaming, and exhausted as to all but her tongue. - -The commissioner with the wart readjusted his garments and his dignity. -The crowd cried: "_Vive Gregoire!_" and the hungry Jacobin went his way, -furious, in search of dietetic consolation. - -"The show is over, Toto," said Francois, as he sat down. - -Presently came the cobbler, curious, and much relieved. - -"Ask no questions," said Francois. "Here is a little money." - -"But, citizen, it is a gold louis." - -"The show was worth the price of admission. Thou art welcome. Hold thy -tongue, if thou art wise. At dusk I shall slip out. Thou art safe. -The Crab will denounce no more of her neighbors." - -"Two she hath sent to the knife," said the cobbler. - -"_Dieu!_ how the _tricoteuses_ will grin!" - - - - - *XXIII* - -_Of how Francois found lodgings where he paid no rent--Of the death of -Toto--Of how his master, having no friends on the earth, finds them -underground._ - - -At dusk Francois went out, and was soon moving rapidly across Paris. He -was in search of lodging, food, and security. In an hour or less he was -in the half-peopled quarter of St. Antoine. Near the barrier he turned -aside, and stood considering a little house in what seemed to have been -a well-kept garden. On the gate was the large red seal of the republic. -It was safe for a night. If he took a lodging, he must show all his -papers, and have his name set out, with his business, on a placard such -as was nailed to the outer door of every house in Paris. His name, as a -new lodger, must be reported to the sectional committee. He was widely -known, and, alas! too peculiar to escape notice long. Now he needed -time to think. He wandered awhile, ate in a small cafe, bought wine and -bread, at night climbed the garden wall, and without much trouble found -his way into the house. It was a sorry sight. The arrests must have -been sudden and pitiless. The kettle stood on the dead embers. The -bread, burned black, was in the oven. A half-knit stocking lay on a -chair. Up-stairs and down, it was the same. The open drawers showed -evidence of search. A dead bird lay starved in a cage. The beds were -unmade. The clock had stopped. He found some scant provisions, unfit -for use. It seemed a gardener's house. The place oppressed him, but it -answered his purpose. His dog troubled him. Toto was, like himself, -conspicuous, and he felt forced during the daytime to leave him locked -up in the house. But Toto was sagacious, and had learned to keep quiet. -For several days Francois lived at daylight in the streets and cafes, -returning at night, to get away again before dawn. In the quiet little -taverns where he went for food and shelter he made himself small, and -hid in corners; nor, at this time, did he laugh much. He bought the -gazettes, and read them with intelligent apprehension of the fact that -change was in the air. Robespierre had never had with him a majority of -his colleagues, and now he was becoming more and more conscious of his -insecure hold on the Convention. As long as the ex-nobles or the foes -of the republic suffered, it was of little moment to the -representatives; but when the craving for blood, not justified by any -political reasons, sent too many of their body to the block, the unease -of the Terror began to be felt within their own hall. To be timid, -cautious, or obscure had once been security. It was so no longer. That -terrible master still had his way, and, one by one, the best brains of -the opponents of the Jacobins were sent to perish on the scaffold. The -Convention began to feel the need for associative self-defense. -Revenge, fear, and policy combined to aid the enemies of this -extraordinary person. Like Marat, he began to show physically the -effects of a life full of alarms; for this monster dreaded darkness, -trembled at unusual noises, and remained to the last the most carefully -dressed man in Paris. To understand him at all, one must credit him in -his early political life with a sincere love of country, and with -willingness to sacrifice himself for others. It is impossible to regard -him as entirely sound of mind at a later date. He became something -monstrous--a mixture of courage, cowardice, blood-madness, self-esteem, -and personal vanity. But there were men who loved him to the last. - -It was now early in July, the month Thermidor. Francois began, as usual, -to weary of a life of monotonous carefulness. His supply of money was -ample. He was well fed and, so far, safe. He sat night after night in -darkness, and thought of the lady of the chateau. He knew that her -father was thus far secure; his name was not in the daily lists of the -victims; and these were many, for on the 22d Prairial (June 10) a decree -deprived the accused of counsel, and of the right to call witnesses. -The end was near. - -One evening about nine, as he came near to the garden, he saw lights in -the house. Toto was found waiting outside of the gate. A girl came -forth, and soon returned with a net of vegetables. - -"_Ciel_! Toto," said Francois, "the poor things have been released, and -thou wert clever to get out. We are glad, thou and I; but they have our -house." He had left nothing at this lodging, having nothing to leave. -He walked away, puzzled, and, wandering, scarce aware of whither he -went, found himself at last in the Rue de Seine. It was getting late, -and he began to look about him for a new lodging. - -"We must find an empty house, Toto. The seal of this cursed republic is -our best chance." He did not need to look far. In the Rue de Seine he -came upon a small two-story shop. Beside it was a wide gateway, on -which he saw with difficulty, but felt readily, the seal no one dared to -violate. He concluded that there must be a deserted house beyond it, in -a garden. He passed around by the _quai_, and entered the Rue des -Petits-Augustines, and stood before the mansion of Ste. Luce. A light -was in an upper room. Some one was in charge. On either side were -railings and a garden. It was now ten o'clock, and no one visible in -the long street of old houses, once the homes of the great French -nobles. He pushed the poodle between the rails, and readily pulled -himself up and dropped at his side. Once within, he moved with care -across to the wall behind the mansion, and soon saw that he was not in -the garden of the marquis, but in the larger domain of the Duc de la -Rochefoucauld-Liancourt. His object was to find his way into the house -which had an outlet on the Rue de Seine. As he was arranging his -clothing to climb a tree near to the wall, he suddenly paused. "Toto," -he exclaimed, "we have been robbed,--we--first-class thieves,--and we -know not when it was. Ah, it was at that cafe, as we came out. Well -done, too. Not a sou. Weep, Toto; we are broken." - -He lost no more time in lamentation, but climbed the tree, looked over, -came down, pulled up the dog, and descended on the farther side of the -wall. - -He was now in a small garden. Near him, and close to the wall, was a -little plant-house. On the farther side of a grassy space stood a hotel -of moderate size, with the front court, as he presumed, opening on the -Rue de Seine. On each side, as he saw clearly, for the night was bright -and the moon rising, there were high flanking walls. After assuring -himself that the house was empty, Francois found a trellis covered with -old vines, and, climbing this, entered the hotel by a convenient -balcony. He was safe for the night, and at leisure to explore his new -dwelling. He feared to strike a light, but he could see dimly that -there were pictures, books, china. Evidently this had been the home of -people of wealth. As the moon rose higher, he saw still better, and -began to realize the fact that here were evidences of hasty flight. In -a room on the second floor was a secretary, and this Francois readily -opened. - -"Toto," he said, "we are rich again." He had found forty louis in a -canvas bag which comfortably fitted his side pocket. In the larder he -came upon meat, cooked and uncooked, mostly unfit for use, stale bread, -and cheese. Once satisfied, he went over the house, and then the -garden, taking pains at last to set a ladder against the wall of the -Rochefoucauld property. - -The glass-house was in disorder, the plants lying about, uncared for. -His foot struck an iron ring attached to a trap-door. There were -staples for padlocking it, but no padlock. He concluded this to be the -opening to a wine-cave or -cellar, and lifted the trap. It was dark -below. He ventured down the steps a little way, and then stood still to -listen. Hearing noises below him, he retreated in haste. He was, as has -been said, superstitious. - -"That is strange! We will look about when it is day, Toto--not now." - -Concluding to sleep out of doors, he accordingly arranged for his -comfort by taking a pillow and blankets from the house; for now he had -opened a door below, and was in full possession. Suites of apartments -which he dared not use for sleep, and a pretty little library, -overlooked the small estate of the garden. - -No occupied dwelling was in view. Great trees in the grounds of La -Rochefoucauld and Ste. Luce partially hid the houses, and, what was of -more moment, shut off the sight of Francois's refuge. It was, of -course, possible that at any time he might be disturbed by the coming of -the officers, or, what was to be feared less, that of the owners. But -he was not a man to be continually anxious. The outer front door had a -bar, and this he dropped into its socket. The side walls were high. He -could hear any one who attempted to enter. His way out at the back was -made easy by the ladder he had set in place. At dusk he began to be -fully at ease, and after a day or two was hardly less so in the sun-lit -hours. - -On the morning of the third day, much at home, he sat behind the little -plant-house, with Toto at his feet, and a book in his hand, for in the -library he found several which excited his interest. Now he was deep in -a French translation of the travels of Marco Polo. Suddenly he heard a -noise of steps. He fell back, caught Toto with a warning grasp on the -jaw, and lay still. He was so hidden in the narrow space between the -plant-house and the wall of the garden as to be for the time secure. No -longer hearing anything alarming, he rose and looked cautiously through -the double glass and the sheltering plants which were between himself -and the mansion. In a few minutes a tall man came out of the -plant-house, went into the dwelling, and by and by returning with -blankets and a basket, passed into the plant-house, and was lost to -sight. He soon came out again with a lad, and after several such -journeys to the main house, whence each time he fetched something, they -reentered the plant-house, and came forth no more. - -This incident greatly amazed the thief. "Toto," he said, "there must be -a trap below! 'T is a lower cellar it leads to, and there are people -beneath. _Helas_, Toto! no sooner are we gentlemen with an estate than, -presto! a change, and it is get up and go. It were better we took to -the woods and saw far countries, like this M. Polo." Toto regarded his -master with attentive eyes, the long black tail wagging. He seemed to -comprehend Francois's difficulties, or at least to feel some vague -desire to help and comfort. - -"Yes, yes; it is time we settled down, _mon ami_. Behold, we get a -little money and wherewithal to live; we hurt no one; we cultivate our -minds with travel; we start fresh, and are honest, having enough,--which -is a good foundation for honesty,--and then--_eh bien!_ my friend; let -us laugh"; and he lay on his back, and tumbled the dog about. - -He was in the garden, near to the dwelling, a day later, when he heard -noises as of steps in the La Rochefoucauld grounds. He climbed the -ladder, and, without showing himself, listened. There were voices, and -now and then he caught a phrase. These were municipal guards. He -beckoned to Toto, and, crossing the garden, entered the house, meaning -to watch his new neighbors from a window. - -He went up-stairs to the third story under the roof. As he moved toward -a window, he heard a sound below. He ran down the stair, and stood on -the lower landing-place, facing the front door. "We are gone, Toto!" -For once he was at a loss, and stood still, in doubt what to do. - -There were voices outside. The hall door had been unlocked, but the bar -held it fast. After a minute or two they seemed to have given up the -idea of entering. Francois waited a few minutes, and began to descend -the stairs. Then he heard quick footfalls in the room to the left on -the level of the landing above him. Some one must have entered by a -window on the second floor. He turned, perplexed, instinctively drew -his useless pistol, and began to go faster. Suddenly the steps above him -quickened. - -A man on the staircase landing behind him cried: "Halloo! Surrender, in -the name of the republic!" Francois jumped, taking the stairs below him -in one leap, but, tripping over Toto, fell headlong in the hall. The dog -sprang after him, and alighted on his master's back. A pistol-shot rang -out. The dog fell dead with a ball in his brain. Francois was on his -feet. He cast a glance at the faithful friend of many a day. His own -long, strange face became like that of a madman. He dashed up the stair, -a second ball missing him narrowly. Through the smoke he bounded on his -enemy. He caught the man by the right arm, wrested the pistol from him, -and, scarce feeling a blow from the fellow's left hand, struck him full -in the face with the butt of the pistol. The blood flew, and the man -staggered, screaming. A second blow and a third fell. Twisting his -victim around, Francois hurled him down the stair. - -"Beast!" he cried; and, leaping over him, stooped a moment, kissed the -quivering little body of his friend, and, with tears streaming from his -eyes, stood still. Loud cries from beyond the wall of the garden -recalled his energies. The noise at the door was heard again. He ran -out and across into the plant-house, pulled up the trap, and, -descending, closed it. Then he stood puzzled. It was dark; he could -see nothing. He fell on his knees, and began hastily to grope about -until he felt an iron ring attached to the trap-door of what he presumed -to be the entrance to a yet lower cellar. - -"It is this or death," he muttered under his breath, and stood -reflecting, having heard no sounds approaching overhead. Thinking it -better to see and be seen by those below, he struck his flint on the -steel, and, with the aid of a morsel of paper and his kindling breath, -soon had a light. Then he saw near by a lantern with a candle within -it. He lighted it, and held it in one hand. This done, he knelt again, -and with a quick movement set open the trap-doorway. What he saw was a -man and the muzzle of a pistol. The man cried out: "If you move, you -are dead!" - -"I am not a municipal, monsieur. I am only a thief. Let me come down, -for God's sake! I am flying from those rascals who are in the house." - -"I have half a mind to blow your brains out." - -"_Ciel_! I hope you will not have a whole mind. It would only call -those scoundrels. I stole a little from the house--I return it"; and he -dropped the bag of louis. It fell on the head of a small boy below, -unseen in the gloom. He howled lustily. - -"_Diantre!_ keep quiet!" cried the man. - -"Oh, let him come down, duke; he is welcome." It was the voice of a -woman out of the deep darkness. Tender and clear it was. - -"Be quick, then, rascal! Down with you." - -The thief waited for no second invitation. The duke descended; -Francois's long legs came after. He paused to arrange some loose -staves, that, in falling, they might conceal the trap. Then he blew out -the candle, and was in total darkness, but where or with whom he knew -not. - -"Have a care how you move," said the voice of the woman. "We are in -great peril. Come down quietly." - -"May all the saints bless you!" said Francois, and sat down on the lower -step. For a while all was still. - - - - - *XXIV* - -_Of how Francois got into good society underground--Of what he saw, and -of the value of a cat's eyes--From darkness to light--Of how Francois -made friends for life._ - - -"It was dark indeed; I had never imagined such darkness," says Francois -in his memoirs.[#] He adds that he has heard the story of this -wonderful escape from the catacombs told over and over by M. des Illes. -He does not consider that it did him (Francois), the principal person, -sufficient justice. He had also heard the old Duke Philippe relate the -matter, and it was incredible how crooked he got it. But, then, Duke -Philippe was a man who had no sense of humor. As to his dear Mme. des -Illes, when she did tell this story, the baby was the chief hero. Duke -Henri,--that is, the present man,--although only a lad when these events -took place, remembered them well. - -[#] See Epilogue. - -"When he was seventeen," says Francois, "we used to fence together. I -have often heard him relate to the other young fellows how we made our -escape; but Duke Henri has too much imagination, and that, you see, -makes a man inaccurate. I knew two very accomplished thieves who were -inaccurate. I am not. Duke Henri's tale got stronger, like wine, as -time went on. The rats grew to be of the size of cats; three of them -pulled the baby out of madame's lap. And as to the people we killed, it -would have satisfied M. Dumas, who is the greatest and most correct of -such as write history." - -The present author grieves that he has not the narration of this famous -escape at the hands of Mme. des Illes and the two dukes, father and son. -Those who have found leisure to read "A Little More Burgundy" have heard -Des Illes's narrative as M. des Illes related it. Those who have not -read that rendering may incline to hear Francois's own statement of what -happened after he thus found himself in darkness with people he had -never seen. I have followed his memoir pretty closely. It tells some -things of which the other people concerned did not know. Evidently he -considered it a less tragic affair than did they. It has been needful -to condense Francois's account, and to do this especially where he -speaks of his own intermediate adventures, which were singular enough. - -When, as I have said, Francois, obeying Duke Philippe, put out his -lantern, he sat still awhile, and said nothing. Like the rest, he was -fearful lest the officers he had disturbed so rudely should make a too -effective search. Their inspection of the upper cellar would be -perilous enough. The anxious people beneath held their breaths when a -man overhead stumbled across the staves the thief had set to fall on the -trap-door. After a while all noises faded away, and in the evening the -duke proposed to reconnoiter once more; but when he tried to lift the -trap, it was found impossible to do so. The municipals, in their -examination, must have rolled a full barrel of wine upon the door. This -discovery was, or seemed, an overwhelming calamity. - -Francois during the day came to understand that here in the darkness -were Duke Philippe de St. Maur, his son Henri, a lad, another rather -older boy, Des Illes, Mme. des Illes, and the baby, who made himself -terribly well known by occasional protests in the tongue of babyhood. -As the thief became accustomed to the gloom and the company, his usual -cheeriness returned; and when they could not open the trap he began to -propose all manner of schemes. He would bore a hole and let out the -wine, and so lighten the barrel. He would shoot a ball through the trap -and the barrel, and thus let out the weight of wine. The duke, who -never lost respect for his own dignity, was disgusted, and would listen -to none of his counsels. - -Toward bedtime the baby began to wail dismally; the boys sobbed; and -Mme. des Illes cried out to them that they should be ashamed to -complain, and then, by way of comment, herself burst into tears; while -the duke stumbled about, and swore under his breath. This was all very -astonishing to Francois, who had seen little of any world but his own, -and to whom calamity served only as a hint to consider some way to -escape its effects. He remained silent for a while, after the duke had -let him plainly understand that he was a fool and had better hold his -tongue. This lasted for a half-hour, during which he sat still, -thinking, with full eyes, of his dead dog. By degrees the children grew -quiet, and the baby, having exhausted his vocabulary and himself, fell -asleep. Then the duke said irritably: - -"Why the deuce don't you do something, Master Thief? If you can get -into places where you do not belong, why cannot you get out of this -abominable box?" - -Francois laughed. "Get out I would, and gladly; but how? We might -wait, monsieur, till they drink up the wine, or until it dries up, or--" -But here the boys laughed, and even the duke forgot himself, and said -Francois was a merry fellow. Indeed, he was of use to them all; for, -soon becoming at ease, he regaled the boys with his adventures; but how -many he invented I do not know. Some were queer, and some silly; but -all tales are good in the dark, for then what can one do but attend? - -After a while, all being still, Francois lighted his lantern, on which -Duke Philippe said: "Put out that light; we have too few candles as it -is; and keep quiet. You are prowling about like a cat on the tiles, and -twice you have stumbled over my legs." - -"But I have twice said I was sorry," said Francois, getting tired of -this duke with an uncertain temper, who repeated: "Put out that light, -and sit down." - -Then madame spoke: "He may have a reason to want to see and to move -about." - -"'T is so," said Francois. "If I walk, my wits walk; if I sit, they go -to sleep; and as to cats, madame, I am a street cat"; and, thinking of -Suzanne, he laughed. - -"Ah, confound your laughing!" The duke felt that to laugh at a joke he -did not share was, to say the least, disrespectful. "What is there to -laugh at?" - -Francois, who had been moving as he spoke, was suddenly elated. He said -it was Suzanne he was thinking of; and when madame would know if she -were his wife, the duke was silent out of lack of interest for low -company, and Francois began to tell about the elders and the Hebrew -maid, and of the Amalekites who lived on the next roof. The boys were -charmed, and madame said, "Fie! fie!" but it served to amuse. An hour -later he began to move about restlessly, and at last cried out, from the -far end of the cellar: - -"This way, monsieur; what is this? A candle--and quick!" When they all -came to see, he rolled aside an empty cask, and showed a heavy planking. -He seized the decayed timbers and tore them away, so that as they fell a -black gap was to be seen. The air blew in, cool and damp. - -"_Mon Dieu!_ 't is the catacombs. My husband's grandfather cut off this -end for a wine-cave. It is strange I should have quite forgotten it." - -"But what then?" said the duke. "It is only a grave you have opened. -You might as well have kept quiet." - -The thief's feelings were hurt; he began to care less and less for this -useless nobleman. - -Madame said thoughtfully: "It may be a way out. If it come to the worst, -we can but try it." - -"Madame is right; and as to keeping quiet, I never could. Sleeping cats -catch no rats." He believed in his luck. "We shall get out," he said, -with cool assurance. "I always do. I have been in many scrapes. I got -out of the Madelonnettes, and I was once near to decorating a rope." - -"A rope!" exclaimed madame. - -"Yes. _Parbleu_! I wear my cravat loose ever since. I like to have -full swing, but not in that way." He was gay and talkative. The boys -liked it; but not so the duke, who said: - -"Well, what next?" - -"We must explore. I will enter and see a little." - -"But," said the woman, "you will get lost; and then, what to do?" She -had come to trust the thief. He saw this, and liked it. "If we lose -you, what shall we do?--what _shall_ we do?" - -The thief turned to her as he stood, lantern in hand. He was grave. -"Madame, I am a poor thief of the streets; I have had to live as I -could; and since I was a boy I can count the kind words ever said to me -by man or woman. I shall not forget." - -Madame was moved, and said they were all alike come upon evil days, and -that perhaps now he would turn from his wicked ways. - -Poor Francois was not quite clear as to his ways having been wicked. - -"Well, if you are going," said the duke, "you had better be about it." - -It was then young Des Illes said he must have a string, like people who -went into caves, else he might never find his way back. The thief -thought it a fine idea; and here was madame's big ball of knitting-wool. -With no more delay, he took it, and leaving an end in Des Illes's hand, -boldly walked away into the darkness with his lantern, and was soon lost -to view. - -When he came back to this anxious company, he had to report such a -tangle of passages as caused him to say that to try to escape through -these must be a last resort. He thought they might live on the rats if -provisions gave out, but they must eat them raw. - -"_Helas!_ what a fate!" said madame. - -The little Duke Henri spoke eagerly, and said the Chinese ate rats. - -"But not raw," cried the young Des Illes, which set them all to -laughing. - -Soon again they were quiet, because talk in the dark does not prosper. -A little later madame called softly to the thief to sit by her, and -would hear of his life. Francois related his exploits with pride. She -made no comment, but said at last: "Your name, my friend?" And when he -replied, "Francois," she declared that he was no more to be any one's -thief, but always Francois; and this was a hint to the duke, who took it -in silence, and was evidently depressed. - -After this, madame bade the boys say their prayers; and soon all were -asleep, except Francois, who sat against a cask, and saw Toto's brown -eyes in the darkness. - -At last the morrow came. The provisions were shared, and, as usual with -Francois, his spirits rose as he filled his stomach. He held the baby, -and was queerly interested in this mystery of unwinking eyes. Might he -give it of the bottle? He satisfied the child, who seemed fearless of -that long, good-humored face. Might he hold it longer? It would relieve -madame. He sang low to it a queer thief-song, and then another none -there could understand. - -"_Ciel!_" said the duke, who had slept off his splenetic mood; "you have -a fine voice." - -"Ah, would it were a hymn," said madame, "or a psalm of Clement Marot!" - -"I know no hymns," said Francois, "but only some old choir chants." - -Upon this he began to sing, low and sweet, one of the old Latin songs: - - Salve, mundi salutare, - Salve, salve, Jesu care! - Cruel tuae me aptare - Vellem vere, tu sols quare, - Da mihi tui capiam. - - -The rich voice which in his boyhood days had soared like a lark up among -the arches of Notre Dame had come again. He heard himself with wonder -and with sad thoughts of the chances his boyish haste had forever lost -for him. - -"And you a thief!" cried madame. "Where--where did you learn--" - -But at this moment noises overhead put an end to all but listening. At -last Francois said: "They move the casks. It were well to take to the -caves." And this was hastily agreed to, when, of a sudden, the noises -ceased. - -Francois still urged instant flight; but the duke said, "No; we must -wait," and gave no reasons. The thief did not agree, but held his -tongue, as Mme. des Illes said nothing, and since, after all, this was a -duke. - -An hour later he started up. "By Heaven, they are at the trap!" - -The duke was no coward. He ran up the steps, pistol in hand, and gave -his second weapon to Francois, who stood below. The trap was cast wide -open, and a big municipal was seen stooping over the open space; for -beyond him the cellar was well lighted up. The duke fired without an -instant's indecision. - -"By St. Denis! 't is a man, this duke," cried Francois, as the officer -pitched head down into the cave. The thief set a foot on him as he lay, -and reached up the second pistol to the duke, while young Des Illes, too -curious for fear, crawled up the broad stone stairs to see. The thief -heard a second shot, and followed the lad. There were several candles -set on casks, and through the smoke he saw a municipal in a heap at the -far end of the upper cellar. He was groaning piteously. - -"Load again, monsieur," cried Francois. "Quick! there may be more." He -himself went past the duke, and young Des Illes after him. He turned -the officer over. - -"He is not dead," he said. "Best to finish him." - -But here was madame at his side, saying: "No, no! No more--I will not -have it. _Mon Dieu!_ it is bad enough. I will have no murder." - -"Then let us go back; he is as good as dead." - -"_Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!_" cried the woman; and so in haste the upper trap -was closed, and all went again down to the cave. - -The officer below was dead, with a ball through his head. Mother and -children huddled away in the far corner, scared. The duke said: - -"What now must we do?" - -"We must go, and at once," said Francois. "They will soon come back, -and then--" - -"Yes, yes," cried madame; "you are right. You were right; we should -have gone before, and saved all this bloodshed." - -The duke made no comment, except to mutter, "I suppose so"; and at once -began to assist Francois's preparations for flight. - -And now the thief's readiness and efficiency were shown. He arranged -every one's loads, filled baskets, laughed over a shoulder at the boys -as he strapped blankets on the duke, and at last loaded himself with all -that was left. They took the arms of the dead man, and soon trooped out -into the darkness. The duke, who at once went on ahead, carried a -lantern. - -At the first turn, Francois called out to wait, and ran back. The duke -swore. He was now eager to go on, and declared that the thief would -deliver them up, and save his own head. But madame was of other mind, -and so they stood expectant. At last came Francois, laughing. - -"Ah, monsieur, this comes of honest company. I forgot the bag of gold. -And these--these are priceless. I have the fellow's clothes. When a man -does not resist, the temptation is great; neither did he assist." - -"Stop that talk, and come on. Are we going to set up a shop for old -clothes?" - -Francois fell behind. "The duke would make a poor thief," he said to -the boys. Young Henri de St. Maur said: "You are insolent. My father a -thief!" - -"_Tiens_! There are times when to steal is virtue. _Allons donc!_" and -he strode on, laughing, and telling the boys stories. - -There were many little incidents that day, but the worst was at evening, -when they found a great cave, lofty and wide, where had been cast, long -before, the bones out of the overfilled cemeteries. Here it was that -skulls fell from the great heap, and rolled away on every side into the -darkness, while the rats ran out in armies. The thief was of all the -most alarmed, and stood still, saying paternosters and aves by the -dozen. After this they went on aimlessly, now and then hearing overhead -the roar and rumble of wagons. Their nights proved to be full of sore -trials. The rats assembled, and grew bolder. One bit the baby, who -cried until the thief lighted a candle and watched while the rest slept, -or tried to do so. - -The dismalness of, these underground labyrinths was such as no man could -imagine. One day they walked a half-mile through a wet cave-passage so -narrow that two persons could not move abreast. It ended in a blank -wall, and they were forced to go back, over shoe-top in water. Or, -again, they went up rude stairs, stumbling, but hopeful, only to descend -once more into the depths of the earth. Now and then a putrid rain fell -on them, and at every turn the rats fled by them, now one and now a -scurry of countless troops. Twice a mass of rock fell in some distant -passage, and strange echoes reverberated in cavern spaces, so that the -boys cried out in terror, and even Francois shivered at the thought of -how they might be buried alive by one of these downfalls. Each sad day -of weariness had its incident of terror or disappointment; and still, -with lessening hope, they trailed on after the dim light which the duke -carried as he led them--none knew whither. Each morning they rose cold, -wet, and unrefreshed, ate of their lessening food, and after some little -talk as to how this day they should keep turning to left or to right, -set out anew, the duke still in advance, with an ever-changing mind as -to where they were or what they should do. As day followed day, their -halts became more frequent. They lingered where the dripping rain from -the sewage of the great city overhead was least; or at times paused -suddenly to listen to mysterious sounds, or to let the rats go by them, -splashing in the noisome puddles underfoot. The night was as the day, -the day as the night. They had no way to tell the one from the other, -except by the duke's watch. - -So confusing was this monotonous tramp underground, the days so much -alike, that at last these sad people became bewildered as to how long -they had wandered. Their food was becoming less and less, and on the -evening of the fifth day the duke and Francois knew that very soon their -stock of candles would be exhausted. These had, in fact, been of small -use, except to keep the scared children more cheerful when night came on -and the rats grew bold. - -This evening of the fifth day, and earlier than usual, Mme. des Illes -declared of a sudden that she could go no farther, and must rest for the -night. The duke had a new plan, and urged her to go on. She cried over -the baby on her lap, and made no answer. They sat down to pass another -night of discomfort. After a little talk with the boys, Francois drew -apart from the rest, and began to think over the wanderings of the day. -Their situation this evening was somewhat better than it had usually -been, for they sat in a dry end of one of the many excavations, and did -not feel the cold, moist winds which howled along these stony caves, -carrying a changeful variety of unwholesome stenches. A silent hour -went by in utter darkness. At times Francois rose to drive away -adventurous rats. At last he lighted a candle, and set it at the open -end of the cul-de-sac. When he saw that the rats would not pass the -lantern, he whispered to madame of this, and that he meant to explore a -little, and bade her have no fear. The duke had thus far had his own -way, and it had not been to Francois's taste. He took a second lantern, -and moved off around a corner, resolute to find a means of escape. The -duke ordered him to return and to put out the candle. Francois made no -reply. He counted the turns as he went on, and listened for the noise -of vehicles above him. - -"A pretty duke, that!" he said. "I should have made as good a one. I -like better that devil of a marquis; but _diantre!_ neither is much -afraid--nor I, for that matter." - -Sometimes he turned back, at others went on boldly, noting whence blew -any current of warmer air. At last he came upon an enormous excavation. -In the middle was a mass of partly tumbled stone, laid in courses. This -broken heap was large, and irregularly conical. He moved around it in -wonder, having seen nothing like it in his explorations. He turned the -yellow and feeble lantern-light upon the heap, and at first concluded -that the old makers of these quarries had here built for themselves a -house, which had fallen to ruin. - -But where was he, and what part of Paris was over his head? He -remembered at last to have heard that these catacombs were once used as -receptacles for the dead, in order to relieve the overpeopled -graveyards. Had he been less alarmed, he might have guessed where he was -when they came upon the bones; for that must have been near to the -cemetery of the Church of the Innocents. But while the duke had led, -Francois had taken less than his usual active notice, and had been -content to follow. Here, now, was a new landmark. This before him -could be no dwelling of quarriers, but must be a house fallen into the -great cave. He had heard of such happenings. To be certain where and on -what street so strange a thing had occurred would afford knowledge as to -the part of Paris under which he stood. He would ask the duke; he might -know. Thus reflecting, he began to walk around the tumbled mass. A -vast amount of earth must have come down with it. He pried here and -there, and at last found a gap in the ruin, and crawled in between -fallen timbers until he could stand up. On one side was a wall and a -wide chimney-place, and on the top of this wall the great beams of the -ceiling still rested. Their farther ends lay on what seemed the wreck -of the opposite wall, thus leaving a triangular space filled in at each -side by broken stone. Amid this were the crushed steps of a staircase, -quite blocked up. The lantern gave little light. Only close to the -fireplace could the tall thief stand erect. He turned his lantern, and -cried out: - -"Ye saints!" Close beside him were the remains of a high-backed chair, -and on these, and beside them, portions of the bones of a man. Two -great jack-boots lay beside him, gnawed by rats. His skull was broken, -and lay where the eager animals had dragged it. - -Few could have stood here alone, and not felt its terror and its -mystery. Francois stood a moment, appalled, and unable to think or to -observe. At last he began to study the place with care and increasing -interest. A rusty sword, sheathed, was caught in the arm of the ruined -chair. Here and there lay bits of gold lace. He picked up the rusted -clasp of a purse, gnawed by the rats. Near it lay scattered a number of -gold and silver coins, a rosary, and a small ring set with red stones. -He put them all in his pocket. There was scarce a remnant of the man's -dress. - -Francois looked at the tumbled bones. "_Mon Dieu!_" said he; "am I like -that?" and turned to see what else was here. On the lowest stair was a -glint of yellow--a cross of gold. "Good luck!" he cried. On the hearth -was a copper kettle, green with rust. Soon he began to see better, and -at last found a fragment of wood less damp than the rest of the floor -and what lay upon it; for a steady, slow, irregular rain fell in drops, -with dull patter here and there. He shaved off some slivers of the -wood, and, getting at the drier inside, soon, with paper from his pouch, -made a fire on the stone pavement. Presently he had a bright little -blaze, and in the brilliant glow began to shed his terror. He found -other wood, and nourished the flame. But when he saw that the fragments -were from the end of a crushed cradle, he ceased to use them; because -here were little bones lying scattered, and the man guessed at the -extent of the tragedy, and was strangely stirred. He moved to and fro -in the tent-like space in awe and wonder, in thought reconstructing the -house, and seeming to share in the horror of its story. - -Before leaving, he looked again at the overturned chair, the stones -lying about it, and the moldering remains of the man. He must have been -asleep, and died instantly when the house fell into the great cave. -There was no more to be seen. "God rest his soul!" said the thief, and -crawled backward out of the tangle of broken beams and stones. - -In a few minutes he was again with those he had left, and, saying only, -"'T is well, madame; we shall get out," fell into a peaceful sleep. - -The next day every one dragged on wearily, the duke still leading, and -Francois hoping that he would be asked advice. The water rained on them -a noisome downfall, the rats came out in hordes; and still Francois -cheered his companions, now carrying the baby, and now encouraging the -tired boys. - -I have not given in full detail all the miseries of these weary days and -sorrowful nights. They have been more fully told elsewhere by one who -felt them as more serious than did Francois, whose narrative I now am -following. These unhappy victims of the Terror had been altogether six -days in the cave, but Francois not so long. By this time their spirit -was quite broken. The thief alone remained gay, hopeful, and even -confident, but saw clearly enough that these people, used to easy lives, -could not endure much longer the strain of this unguided wandering in -the dark and somber alleys of this horrible labyrinth of darkness and -foul odors. The duke seemed also to be of a like mind, for on the -morning of the seventh day he awakened Francois at six, and, of a sudden -grown sadly familiar, whispered low to him: - -"Is there any hope? Madame and the boys are failing. Soon we shall -have to carry them." - -"We shall get out," said Francois. - -"But how? how? Why to-day any more than yesterday? Do you think of any -way to help us?" - -"If monsieur will permit me to lead--" - -"Good! Why did you not say so before?" - -Francois made no direct reply, but asked: "Did ever a house fall into -these quarry-caves?" - -"A house? Why do you ask? Yes; it was long ago. The house of the -lieutenant of the guard it was. I do not recall the date. A house in -the Rue des Peches." - -"Will this help to know when it was?" and Francois showed his coins and -told his story. - -"Yes, yes; I see. How wonderful! These are of the time of Francis I." - -"Rue des Peches?" - -"Yes; it is now the Rue des Bon Secours. It is close to the Asile des -Innocents." - -"_Dieu!_ monsieur, then I know. I think we may get out to-day; but it -may be well not yet to tell madame. I think we are still near to the -fallen house." - -"Then you shall lead," said the duke. "_Tiens!_ a queer fellow, this -thief," he muttered, and went to waken the sleeping children. No word -was said as to the house of the lieutenant of the guard, but Francois -refreshed the tired party by promising a speedy glimpse of day. For, -now that the candles were few, they thought more of this than of the -perils which the daylight might bring. - -The thief led, and all day long they went on and on. Once he was quite -dismayed to find that he had lost his way, and once came to the very -entrance of the cave he had left the night before. The duke again -became querulous and dissatisfied; but Francois only laughed, and, -resolutely concealing his mistake, retraced his steps. It was near to -seven o'clock in the evening of July 28 when the thief bade them rest, -and he would be back soon. The duke said something cross; but Francois -made no reply, and, turning a corner, lost sight of his party. He took -careful note of the turns and windings of this maze, and now and then -found himself in a blind alley, and must of need turn back. At the far -end of one of these recesses he saw in the gloom two great, green, -phosphorescent eyes. Like mighty jewels they were, set in the darkness. -They were soon lost to view, and came and went. "They are cats," he -murmured; "and what a hunting estate they have! Ye saints! if I had -here my poor Toto!" He began to move toward these eyes, which shot back -the light his lantern gave. There were three sets of the pale-green -jewels, and now their owners were maneuvering to escape. He began to -use caressing cat-talk, such as had won the heart of Suzanne, and, -falling on his knees, crept closer. Then there was a quick rush past -him of his feline game; but one cat was indecisive, and he had her by -the leg. He paid well for his audacity, but held on, and pretty soon -began to exercise the curious control he had over all animals. At last -pussy lay still and panting. When the scared animal grew quiet, he set -her down. For a moment she hesitated, and then began to move away. As -he followed she ran. He cast the lantern-light before her, and pursued -her with all speed. Once or twice she was nearly lost to view. Then she -turned a corner, and another, and of a sudden fled toward a distant -archway, through which he saw the light of day. A great rush of warm -air went by him. He stood still, murmuring aves. To his surprise, he -was near to the place where he had left his companions. He stood a -moment in deep thought. "We are out at last," he murmured. "But -_ciel!_ there is much to think about. We may have too much light." - -He went back and told of the discovery, but of the cat not a word. The -duke said: "I thought we should soon get out; come, let us be off." - -Madame said gently: "Let us kneel before we go, and thank the good God -for this friend he sent us in our trouble." Then they all knelt, and -she prayed, speaking her thankfulness to Heaven, with at the end a word -as to her husband, and also asking God's mercy for him who had led them -forth out of darkness into light. When Francois heard her, he was -disturbed as he had never been in all his days. When a man like -Francois sheds tears, it is a great event in his life. He rose from his -knees, and asked the duke and the rest to go with him; and thus it was -that in a few minutes they stood fifty feet from an open archway, -through which came the level light from the western sky. - -The duke was moved at last to say how clever Francois had been; and how -had he managed it? The thief declared it had been easy; but the cat got -no credit, and never was praised, then or ever, for her share of their -escape. Set in this rocky frame before them was a picture as it were of -a disused quarry, and beyond it vineyards, with yet farther a red-tiled -housetop. Here it was, as they paused, that madame said solemnly, with -tears in her eyes: - -"'God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the -light, that it was good.'" - -After the duke and Francois had peeped out, and seen no one, the duke -began to set forth a variety of schemes as to what they should do. None -of these was very wise, and at last madame turned to Francois. He had -disappeared, but presently came again, dressed in the clothes of the -dead officer. He wore his sword and pistols, and now, as seen clearly -in the light of day, was certainly a queer enough figure. The garments -were too short below and too wide above, and over them rose the long -face, the broad mouth, and the huge ears. The boys, who looked on their -troubles as at an end, set up a shout of laughter. - -"The deuce! I shall arrest you, citizens," cried Francois. "And first, -monsieur." He explained that he proposed to tie the duke's hands behind -his back, and with, as was usual, one end of the rope in his hand, would -conduct the _ci-devant_ into Paris by the Barriere d'Enfer. The weeping -widow would follow, with the two children, to see the last of their poor -papa. - -The duke was disgusted, but pretended to be much amused. "Well, it is a -pretty comedy," he said, as Mme. des Illes insisted. - -"_Dame!_" said the thief, "but the tragedy is not far away." - -"And what is to come after?" said she. "Had we not better wait till -night?" - -"No. The guards are doubled at night. It is boldness which will win." - -"And what then, Francois?" - -"I must find for you a refuge while I go to see if M. des Illes may not -have returned; for, madame, you have assured me that he would be -released. Pray God it is so. And what better is there?" The duke was -forced to consent. - -A rope found in the officer's pocket made part of Francois's spoil. He -tied the duke's hands, and showed him how, at need, a pull would release -them. The gold was divided. All else they left. Francois reported the -way clear, and they set out. But the boys giggled so much at the duke -and his indignant face that Francois paused. - -"_Dame!_" he cried, "madame must weep." She was already doing that, her -mind on the fate of M. des Illes. "If you boys are fools, and laugh, we -are lost. Cry, if you can; but, for the love of Heaven, do not look -about you, or smile. Take a hand of madame--so. Cry, if ever you mean -to get away safe." - -The road beyond the quarry was little used, and they went on, the duke -furious. When they met any one, Francois cried: "Get on, aristocrat! -Pig of a _ci-devant_, march!" - -Duke Philippe muttered: "_Sacre_, thief!" and got a smart jerk of the -rope, and more abuse, until the fun of it nearly upset the thief, who -could scarce contain himself. At the Barriere d'Enfer were but two -guards; nor were there as many people in the streets as usual. - -Suddenly Francois halted at the summons to leave his prisoner with one -of the two men, and to enter the little office and exhibit his papers, -as was needful. - -"_Dame!_" muttered the thief, "one cannot know all things. I forgot -about the papers." He showed, however, no indecision. "Guard this -wretch, citizen," he said. "Here, take the rope. He is a returned -_emigre_." The man took the rope. "I shall not be long." So saying, -he went in after the second guard, closing the door behind them. The -man sat down at a desk, and opened a blank-book, saying: "The order, -citizen." - -"I am afraid it is lost," said Francois, eagerly searching his acquired -pockets. "The mischief! What to do?" - -"To do? Thou must wait till the lieutenant comes back. He has gone to -see the fun." - -"Fun! What fun?" - -At this moment the man rose hastily. "_Diable!_ thou art Francois! I -thought I knew thy voice. There are orders to arrest thee. Citizen Amar -desires thy society. Best make no fuss. I arrest thee. I am in luck. -It is sure promotion. What trick art thou up to? And those folks -outside, who axe they?" - -"But thou, an old thief, to arrest a comrade! Surely thou wilt not." - -"No use. Come! no nonsense." - -Francois put out a pleading hand. "But they will kill me, comrade." He -looked all the alarm needed. - -"Bah!" - -In an instant the strongest grip of the Cite was on the man's throat, -and closed as a vise closes. A faint cry escaped as the man struggled. -Francois threw a leg back of the fellow, and as he fell dropped on his -chest. It was brief. The man's heels clattered on the floor; he was -still. The thief rose. The man was to appearance dead. He would -revive, perhaps. "_Peste!_" cried Francois, "it is hard to keep one's -head." - -Seizing a paper from the table, Francois went out of the door, closing -it after him, and coolly caressing a cat on the step. He said to the -guard that his comrade would be out by and by, and that it was all -right. As he spoke he waved the paper, and, taking the rope, went on, -crying: "Get up, _ci-devant_!" As they got farther away he hurried the -duke. "Death is behind us. Get on. Faster--faster!" He twisted and -turned, and was not at ease until they were deep in the sinuous, -box-hidden paths of the Luxembourg. - -Very few people were to be seen, and these looked at or after them with -curiosity. - -"We must be a queer party. Get on, citizen. Thou art lazy. Thou wilt -soon have a fine carriage." He was terribly anxious. "_Sacre_, -monsieur! For the love of the saints, go on, and quicker!" - -"What the deuce is it?" said the duke. - -"That beast at the barrier knew me. He was an old thief." - -"And what then? Why were we not stopped if he knew you?" - -"He does not know me nor anybody now." - -"_Foi d'honneur_, but you are a brave fellow!" - -"Thanks; but make haste." - -At last they were in the long Rue de Varennes, where they saw a great -crowd filling the street, and were soon in the midst of a mass of -excited people. - -Francois cried out: "Room, citizens, room!" - -An old woman shook her fist at him, yelling furiously: "Cursed Jacobin!" - -The people were wild; and presently a man hustled the supposed officer. -Others cried fiercely: "Hang him!" Another screamed out: "Robespierre is -dead!" and the crowd took up the cry. A dozen hands seized on Francois. - -"What the deuce is all this?" he shouted. "Take care, or the law will -have you." - -"Robespierre is dead! _A la lanterne!_" - -Upon this, the duke exclaimed: "Let him go; it is a good fellow, and not -an officer"; and then, amid a maddening tumult, succeeded in hastily -explaining enough to secure the release of the officer. - -"_A bas la guillotine!_" cried Francois. "Down with the Terror!" - -The crowd thickened, and went its way with wild cries. Meanwhile the -boy Des Illes was lost, and madame in tears. They went on, asking -questions, and hearing of the execution of Robespierre, Couthon, -Saint-Just, and the rest. The thief said: "Let us go straight to M. des -Illes's house." - -At the door madame fell into her husband's arms; and soon after dusk the -boy came running back with his father, who had gone out to search for -him. - -Then all was hastily made clear, and the long story told of Des Illes's -release, and how he had found the dog, and in the cave the Jacobins both -dead, and of his vain efforts to discover his own people. They were fed -and reclothed; and now, it being ten at night of this 10th Thermidor, -Francois rose. "I must go," he said. - -"You? Never!" said madame. "Our house is your home for life. You will -wander and sin no more." - -On this, Francois looked about him, from one kind face to another, and -sat down, and broke into tears. - -"It shall be as madame desires. I am her servant." - -And this is the end of the adventures of Francois, the thief. Let who -will judge him. - - - - - *EPILOGUE* - -_Wherein is some further account of Francois and of those who helped -him._ - - -In a little book which has found many friendly readers I related a -strange story of the French Revolution.[#] In it was promised some -further account of the most remarkable of the personages concerned. I -have now fulfilled my desire to relate the adventures of Francois. The -singular incidents I record are not without foundation. - -[#] "A Madeira Party," The Century Co., which contains a tale called "A -Little More Burgundy," to which the reader is referred. - -In the story above mentioned I have told how I chanced to meet Francois -and those with whom he spent his days after the stormy period during -which they first came together. My acquaintance with M. des Illes and -the old Duc de St. Maur slowly ripened into friendship. I was a lonely -student in the Latin Quarter, and felt deeply the kindness which never -ceased insisting that their house should be to me a home. In the -summer, and often after that, I was a guest at Des Illes's chateau in -Touraine. There I came to know Francois, as one may know a French or an -Italian servant. During these visits he acted as my valet, serving me -with admirable care, and never better pleased than when I invited him to -talk about himself. He had long since shed his thief-skin, but I fear -that it was only the influence of fortunate circumstances which left him -without excuse to be or to seem other than as honest as the rest of the -world about him. - -I have known a great variety of disreputable folk in my lifetime, but -never one who had so many winning qualities, or who was so entirely at -his ease. A scamp in the company of men of better morals usually -becomes hypocritical or appears awkwardly aware of breathing an -atmosphere to which he is unused. Francois had no such difficulties. -For half a century he had been for Des Illes something between friend -and servant. His former life and habits were well known to the few who -came to his master's house. He was comfortable, with some forty -thousand francs in the _rentes_, for his old acquaintance, the marquis, -had not forgotten his services. He had no necessity to exercise what he -still tranquilly called his profession. Like a clever street-dog -adopted by a respectable family, though for a time uneasy, he ceased by -degrees to wander for the joy of stealing a bone, and became contented -with the better and less perilous chances of a dinner at home. - -I learned from M. de St. Maur, the duke's son, that while Mme. des Illes -lived Francois remained the most domestic of animals. Her death caused -him a grief so profound that for a time his master was troubled lest his -reason might suffer. She herself would never hear a word against him. -Unlike her husband, she was a fervent Protestant, and had now and then -some vain hope of converting Francois. While she lived he considered -himself her special servant, but after her death transferred his regard -to young Des Illes, the son. For many months Francois pined, as I have -said. He then became restless, disappeared for a week at a time, and it -is to be feared that once, or more often, he courted temptation. When I -knew him all this was in a remote past. At the chateau he usually came -to my bedroom an hour before dinner to set out my evening dress, and was -pretty sure, when this was done, to put his head in my little salon and -ask if I needed anything. Perhaps, like M. des Illes, I might desire a -_petit verre_ of vermuth for the bettering of appetite. As I soon found -what this meant, I commonly required this sustaining aid. When by and -by he returned, carrying a neat tray with vermuth and cognac, it came to -be understood that he should be led into talk of himself over the little -glass, which would, I am sure, have paid toll before it got back to the -buffet. Pretty soon I got into the way of making him sit down, while I -drew from by no means unwilling lips certain odd stories which much -amused me. With an English or Irish servant such familiar intercourse -would have been quite impossible; but Francois, who had none of the -shyness of other races, soon came to be on as easy terms with me as he -was with M. des Illes. When I asked him one evening to tell me his own -story of the famous escape through the catacombs, he said, "But it is -long, monsieur." When I added, "Well, sit down; I must have it," he -replied simply, "As monsieur wishes," and, taking a chair, gave me an -account of their escape, in which he drew so mirthful a picture of the -duke's embarrassments that I saw how little of the humor of the tale M. -des Illes had allowed himself to put into his recital. - -Francis's long life amid people of unblemished character had by no means -changed his views. Yes, he had been a thief; but now he was out of -business. He had retired, just as M. des Illes had done, there being no -longer any cause why he should relieve his own necessity by lessening -the luxury of others; monsieur might feel quite secure. - -As for politics, he was all for the Bonapartes, who, he said, were -magnificent thieves, whereas he had never been able to rise to the very -highest level of his business. M. des Illes objected, and the last time -he had indulged himself in a prolonged absence--monsieur would -comprehend that this was many years ago--there had been a serious -quarrel; and how could he annoy so good a master, even though they -disagreed as to matters political? If monsieur were still curious as to -his life, he had a few pages in which he had set down certain things -worth remembering, and would monsieur like to see them? Monsieur would -very much like to read them. Thus came into my possession this -astonishing bit of autobiography, which at last I had leave to copy. It -was oddly written, in a clear hand, and in a quaint and abrupt style, -from which, in my use of it, I have generally departed, but of which I -fear some traces may yet be seen. - -Two evenings later, and before I had found leisure to read all of it, -Francois said to me, "Does monsieur think to give my poor little account -to the world?" I said I did not. At this I saw his very expressive -face assume a look which I took to mean some form of regret. As he -spoke he was standing in the doorway, and was now and then mechanically -passing a brush over my dress-coat. Presently he said: "I only desired -not to have set forth in France, when I am gone, such things as might -give concern to M. des Illes, or trouble him if he should outlive me." - -I replied that it should never be published; and when, after this, he -lingered, I added, "Is that as you desire?" It was not. His vanity was -simple and childlike, but immense. - -"Monsieur will find it entertaining," he said; and I, that this was sure -to be the case, and that it were a pity the world should lose so -valuable a work. At this his lean face lighted up. Perhaps in English -it might some day be of interest to monsieur's friends; and as he -understood that the English were given to stealing whole countries -belonging to feeble folks, it might seem to them less unusual than it -would to people like those of France. But monsieur was not English. He -asked my pardon. I kept a grave face, and inquired if it were a -treatise on the art of theft. - -This embarrassed him a little, and he made answer indirectly: did -monsieur entirely disapprove this form of transfer? He seemed to regard -it as merely a manner of commercial transaction by which one man alone -profited. I returned that as to this nations held diverse opinions, and -that some Oriental people considered it a creditable pursuit, but that -personally it did seem to me wrong. - -M. des Illes was distinctly of that opinion; but, after all, his -(Francois's) account of what he had seen and been was not limited to -mere details of business, and I might discover his adventures to have -other interest. When he heard at last that some day I might, through -his writings, enlighten the nations outside of the pale of Gallic -civilization, he went away with the satisfied air of a young author who -has found a publisher with a just appreciation of his labors--a thing -both rare and consolatory. - -His personal history, as I have said, was well known to the entire -household; nor did he resent a jest now and then as to his disused art, -if it came from one of a rank above his own. The old duke would say, -"Any luck of late in snuff-boxes, Francois?" - -"M. le Duc knows they are out of fashion." - -"_Eh bien_; then handkerchiefs?" - -"_Diable!_" says Francois. "They are no more of lace; what use to steal -them? M. le Duc knows that gentlemen are also out of fashion. M. le -Bourgeois is too careful nowadays." - -"True," says the duke, and walks away, sadly reflective. - -This Francois was what people call a character. He had a great heart and -no conscience; was fond of flowers, of birds, and of children; pleased -to chat of his pilferings, liking the fun of the astonishment he thus -caused. Had he really no belief in its being wrong to steal? I do not -know. The fellow was so humorous that he sometimes left one puzzled and -uncertain. He went duly to mass and confession, but--"_Mon Dieu_, -monsieur; nowadays one has so little to confess, M. le Cure must find it -dull." - -When I would know his true ethics as to thine and mine, he cried, -laughing, "_Le mien et le tien_; 't is but a letter makes the -difference, and, after all, one must live." It seemed a simple -character, but there is no such thing; all human nature is more complex -than they who write choose to think it. If character were such as the -writer of fiction often makes it, the world would be a queer place. - -He is dead long ago, this same Francois, as my old friend Des Illes -wrote me a few years later. He was very fond of a parrot he had taught -to cry, "_Vive Bonaparte!_" whenever the aged duke came by his perch. -One morning Poll was stolen by some adroit purveyor of parrots. This -loss Francois felt deeply, and vastly resented the theft,--in fact, he -described himself as being humbled by the power of any one to steal from -a man bred up to the business,--and so missed his feathered companion -that for the first time he became depressed, and at last took to his -bed. He died quietly a few weeks after, saying to the priest who had -given him the final rites of the church: "M. le Cure--the gold snuff-box -the duke gave you--" "Well, my son?" "The left-hand pocket is the -safer; we look not there." Then, half wandering, he cried: "Adieu, -Master Time! Thou art the best thief, after all"; and so died, holding -Des Illes's hand. - -I learned from the duke and his son, as well as from M. des Illes, many -more facts as to Francois than he himself recorded; the good old Cure Le -Grand, who was a great friend of mine, also contributed some queer -incidents of Francois's life; and thus it was that, when years had gone -by, and I became dependent on my pen, I found myself able to write fully -of this interesting product of Parisian life. - -After considering the material in my possession, I soon discovered that -it would not answer my purpose to let Francois's broken memoirs tell his -story. There were names and circumstances in them which it were still -unwise to print. Much of what I may call the scenery of his somewhat -dramatic adventures was supplied by the singular knowledge of the -Revolution which the cure delighted to furnish. The good priest was by -far the most aged of this group, and yet to the last the most clear as -to memories of a tragic past. Thus it came that I was led to write my -story of Francois in the third person, with such enlightening aid as I -obtained from those who knew him better than I. - -In his defense I may be permitted to quote the cure's cautiously worded -opinion: - -"Oh, monsieur, no man knows another, and every man is ever another to -himself. For you Francois is a thief, strangely proud of an exceptional -career and of his victories over the precautions of those from whom he -stole. Is it not so, monsieur?" I said it was. "But the _bon Dieu_ -alone knows all of a man. I was not a priest until after the great wars. -God pardon me, but I like still to tell tales of Jena and Austerlitz, -and of what we did in those days of victory. To kill men! The idea now -fills me with horror, and yet I like nothing better, as monsieur well -knows, than to talk of those days of battle. And Francois--'t is much -the same. How could one live with these dear people, and get no lesson -from their lives? Our gay, merry-minded Francois loved to surprise the -staid folks who came hither to visit us; but I know that--ah, well, -well, priests know many things." - -I thanked him, but still had doubts as to whether the moral code of our -friend Francois was ever materially altered by precept, example, or by -the lack of necessity to carry on his interesting branch of industry. - -Before telling his story I like to let him say for himself the only -apologetic words I could discover in this memoir: - -"I have no wish to write my whole life. I want to put down some things -I saw and some scenes in which I was an actor. I am now old. I -suppose, from what I am told, that I was wicked when I was young. But -if one cannot see that he was a sinner, what then? The good God who made -me knows that I was but a little Ishmaelite cast adrift on the streets -to feed as I might. I defend not myself. I blame not the chances of -life, nor yet the education which fate gave me. It was made to tempt -one in need of food and shelter. 'T is a great thing to be able to -laugh easily and often, and this good gift I had; and so, whether in -safety or in peril, whether homeless or housed, I have gone through life -merry. I had thought more, says M. le Cure, had I been less light of -heart. But thus was I made, and, after all, it has its good side. I -have always liked better the sun than the shadow; and as to relieving my -wants, are the birds thieves?" - -I noticed on the margins of Francois's memoirs remarks in a neat female -handwriting, which he told me were made by Mme. des Illes, who alone had -read his story. - -At the end I found written: "If ever another should read what is set -down in these pages, let them have the comment of charity. He who wrote -them was by nature gifted with affection, good sense, and courage. He -had many delicacies of character, but that of which nature meant to make -a gentleman and a man of refinement, desertion and evil fortune made a -thief and a reprobate. She who wrote this knew him as no one else did, -and, with God's help, drew him out of the slough of crime and into a -long life of honest ways. CLAIRE DES ILLES." - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FRANCOIS *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43241 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. 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