38
THE MYSTERIES OF PARIS.
of Tortillard, and cried in a wild manner, " Let us go
—conduct me—let us feo hence!"
The laborers looked at one another in surprise.
, " You go ! now?- You must not think of it, my poor
man," said the pere châtelain. "Ah! come, what bee
has stung you? are you a fool?" Tortillard, seizing
adroitly this idea, breathed a deep sigh, nodded his
head in the affirmative, and, putting his finger on his
forehead, he gave the laborers to understand that the
reason of his pretended father was not very strong.
The old laborer answered with a sign of intelligence
and compassion. "Come, come, let us go!" repeated
the Maitre d'Eeole, seeking to drag the child out. Tor-
tillard, absolutely deciding not to leave a warm shelter
to wander about the fields this cold night, said, in a
moaning voice, "Mon Dieul poor papa, calm yourself;
the attack will soon pass off; don't go out such a cold
night, it will do you harm. I would prefer to see you
angry with me than to take you from here at such an
hour. " Then, addressing the laborers, he said, " Won't
you help me to prevent my poor papa from going out,
mv good gentlemen?!' "Yes, yesl beeasy, my child,"
said the pere châtelain; " we will not open the door for
your father—we will make him sleep here!" "You
shall not force me to remain hero!" cried the Maitre
d'Eeole; "and, besides, I'll incommode your master,
Monsieur Rodolphe. You told me the farm was not an
. hospital. Thus, once more I say, let me go." "In-
commode our master? Be easy. Unfortunately, he
does not live at the farm; he does not come as often as
we should wish. But it he was here, you would not
incommode him at all. This house is not an hospital,
it is true; but I told you that the infirm, as much to be
pitied as you are, can always have a lodging."
"Your master is not here, then, to-night?" said the
Maitre d'Eeole, in a more assured tone. "No! he will
probably come, according to custom, in five or six days.
Thus, you see, there is no reason in your objections. It
is not probable that our good lady will come down to-
night, otherwise she would convince you. Has she not
ordered your bed to be made? Besides, if you don't see
her to-night, you can speak to her to-morrow before
your departure." "No, ne!" said the brigand, in
alarm; " I have changed my mind. My son was right;
my relation at Louvres will take pity on me. I will go
and find her." "As you please," said the pere châtelain,
believing he was conversing with a crazy man. " You
shall go to-morrow morning; but as for setting out to-
night, don't think of it." Although Rodolphe was not
at the farm, the fears of the Maitre d'Eeole were not
quieted; notwithstanding he was so frightfully dis-
figured, he still dreaded that his wife might recognize
him. And she might come in from one moment to
another; in that case, he doubted not but that she
would denounce him, and cause him to be arrested,
persuaded that, in inflicting the terrible punishment,
Rodolphe had, above all, satisfied the hatred and ven-
geance of Madame Georges. But he could not leave
the farm; he found himself at the mercy of Tortillard.
He resigned himself, then, to his situation ; but, to avoid
being surprised by his wife, he said to the laborer,
" Since you assure me that I shall put you to no
trouble, t accept the hospitality you offer roe; but as I
am very much fatigued, I will go to bed, if you will
allow me; I wish to start to-morrow at daylight."
"Oh! to-morrow morning, when you please! we are
early risers here; and for fear that you may be lost
again, some one will show you the road." " I will, if
you wish, conduct the poor man," said Jean Rene;
" since madame has told me to take the cart to bring
home some bags of silver from the notary at Vilhers-
leBel." "You will show the road to this poor blind
man, but you will go on your legs," said tho pere-chat-
elain; "madame has changed her minds; she has re-
flected, and not without reason, that it was not worth
while to have so large a sum of money at the farm; it
will be time enough to go after the money on Monday;
until then, it is as well there as here."
"Madame knows better than me what to do; but
what is there to fear here, for money, pere châtelain?"
"Nothing, mon gareon, 'Dieu merci 1' But it is all
the same;'l would prefer to have here five hundre I
Backs of wheat, than ten sacks of crowns Come," said
he, addressing the brigand and the little Tortillard;
"come, my good man, and you, my child, follow me,"
added he, taking a candle. Then, preceding the two
guests of the farm, he conducted them to a small
chamber, at the end of a long corridor, into which
opened several doors.
The ploughman placed the light on the table, and
said to the Maitre d'Eeole, " Here is your lodging-
place; may the 'bon Dieu ' give you a good night'3
rest, mv good man! as to you, my child, you will sleep
well, it belongs to your years."
The brigand wentand seated himself gloomily on tha
bed, to which he had been conducted by Tortillard.
The little cripple made a sign to the ploughman as he
left the room, and joined him in the corridor. "What
do you want, my child?" asked the pore châtelain.
"Mon Dieu! my good Sir, I am much to be pitied!
sometimes poor papa has spasms in the night, like con-
vulsions; I cannot help him all alone; if I am obliged
to call for help, can they hear me from here?"
" Poor little fellow," said the ploughman, with in-
terest; "be comforted. Do you see that door there,
alongside of the staircase?"
"Yes, my good sir, I see it." "Well! one of our
boys always sleep» there; you have only to go and
wake him. the key is in the door; he will come and
assist you."
"Alas! sir, this boy, perhaps, will not be strong
enough. Could you not come, you who are so good, so
kind?"
" I, my child! I sleep, as well as the other men, in a
building away at the end |of the court; but be quite
easy, Jeane Rene is very strong; he would take a bull
by the horns. Besides, if you should actually nee
some one to assist you, he will go and call bur old
cook; she sleeps up stairs, in a room alongside of our
lady, and, in case of need, she makes an excellent
nurse."
"Oh! thank you, thank you! my good sir; I will go
and pray for you, for you are very charitable to have
so much pity for my poor papa." " Well, my child,
good-night. I hope you will have no need of assistance
foi your father; go in, perhaps he wants you." " Igo;
good-night, sir." " God bless you, m,y chiid!" said the
old ploughman; and he slowly retraced his steps to
the kitchen.
Hardly was his back turned, than the little cripple
Made a movement supremely ridiculous and insulting,
Well known to the boys of Paris; this consists in strik-
¦"ig the nape of the neck with the palm of the left
hand, repeatedly, and each time extending forth the
right hand wide open.
With diabolical cunning, this dangerous child already
had ascertained the information desired by La
Chouette. He knew already that the building where he
was to sleep was only occupied by Madame Georges,
Fleur de Marie, an old cook, and a t'armboy. Tortillard,
on entering the bedchamber, took good care to keep at
a convenient distance from the brigand. He heard
him come in, and said to him in a low tone, " Where do
you come from now, scoundrel?" " You are very curi-
ous, No-eyes." " Oh! you shall pay for all you have
made me suffer and endure this night, you devil's
imp!" cried the Maitre d'Eeole, getting up furiously
and groping his way along the wall to guide him. " I'll
choke you! you wicked serpent !"
" Poor papa; we are so gay, playing blindman's
bluff with our dear child," said Tortillard, chuckling
and escaping in the easiest way the pursuits of the
Maitre d'Eeole. He, at first, carried away, without re-
flecting, with rage was soon obliged to give up the
chase. Forced to submit to his brazen persecution,
until the time should arrive that he could revenge him-
self without danger, the brigand, choking down his
powerless anger, threw himself on the bed, swearing
and cursing.
" Poor papa, have you the toothache, that you
swear in this manner? And 'M. le Cure,' what would
he say if he heard you? he'll make you perform pen-
ance."
"Well! well!" continued the brigand after a long
silence, " laugh at me, amuse yourself with my mis-
fortune, cowards as you are! It is all very fine; ah!
it is very generous." "Oh! what stuff! generous!
you are in a pet!" cried Tortillard, shouting with
laughter; "pardon me! with such ideas as those, you
ought to have worn mittens when you did the business
for those you robbed, before you became blind in both
eyes!"
" But I have never done you any harm—yon. Why
do you torment me thus?" "Because, in the first
place, you said bad things to La Chouette; and when I
think, the gentleman wished to stay here, by,wheedling
the peasants—perhaps the gentleman would like to live
on asses' milk?" " Scoundrel as you are! If there
had been any possibility of my remaining here, at
- this farm, wliich I wish the thunder may strike now !
you would almost have prevented it with your inso-
lence."
" You remain here! oh, that's a good joke! and who
would have been the 'beast of suffering* for Madame
la Chouette? Me! perhaps? Thank you, I'd rather be
excused!"
" Wicked abortion!" "Abortion! come, so much the
more reason ; I say just like my Aunt la Chouette,
there is nothing more amusing than to make you as
mad as the devil—you, who would kill me with your
fist; it is much more delicate than if you were weak.
You are a funny fellow—get out—to-night at the table
—Dieu de Dieu. ! what a comedy I played all alone by
myself—equal to anything at LaGaitel At each kick
I gave you quietly, rage brought the blood to your
head, and your white eyes became red at the edges;
they only wanted a little blue inthe centre; with that
they would have beentricolored; two real cockades for
a constable—what."
" Come, come, you love to laugh, you are lively; bah!
it is natural at your age; I am not angry," said the
Maitre d'Eeole, in an affected and unconcerned manner,
hoping to soften Tortillard; "but, instead of black-
guarding me, you'd better remember what La Chouette
told you, she whom you love so much; you ought to
examine everything, and take impressions. Did you
hear? they spoke of a large sum of money that they are
to have here on Monday. We will return with our
friends, and we will do some good business. Bah 1 I
was a great fool to wish to stay here. I should have
had enough in a week of these good-natured peasants.
Is it not so, my boy?" said the brigand, by way of flat-
tering Tortillard. " You really would have givon me
pain—word of honor," said the son of Bras-Rouge,
chuckling.
" Yes, yes, there is a good affair to be done here-, and
even if there is nothing to steal, I will return to this
house with La Chouette to revenge myself," said the
brigand, in a voice trembling with rage and passion;
" for it certainly was my wife who excited against me   _
this infernal Rodolphe; in making me blind has he f0^anhour.» And Tortillard sung
not placed me at the mercy of the whole world, or La r
Chouette, of a chap like you? Well! since I cannot be
revenged on him, I will be revenged on my wife 1 Yes,
she shall pay for all; even if I have to set fire to this
house, and perish myself under its ruins. Oh ! I wish
—-" " You wish you had hold of her, your wife, hey !
old man 1 I tell you she is not tea steps from you ; that
is vexing! If I pleased, I'd conduct you to the door of
her chamber, for I know where it is. I know, I know,
I knowl" added, or rather, chanted Tortillard.
" You know which is her chamber?" cried theMaitre
d'Ecold, with savage joy; " you know?"
"Ah! come now," said tortillard; "lam going to
make you beg on your hind legs, hke a dog asking for
a bone.   Attention, old Azor!"
' You know where is the room of my wife!" repeated
the brigand, turning towards Tortillard. " Yes, I know ;
and what is more, there is only one of the boys who
sleeps in the house. I know where is his door, the key
isi'n it; crack! one turn, and he is fixed. Come! stand
up, old Azor!" "Who told you this?" cried the bri-
gand, rising involuntarily " Good Azor, in the room
next to your wife's sleeps the old cook; another turn of
the key, and.we are masters of the house, piasters of
your wife, aiîd of the young girl in the gray mantle,
whom we wish to carry off. Now, give us your paw,
old Azor; hold up your head for your master, right
away !"
" You lie, you lie ! How could you know all this?"
"I am lame, but I am not afoo'l. Just now I made
this old fool of a ploughman believe that during the
night you had convulsions, and I asked him where I
could find assistance if I needed it. Then he told me I
might wake the boy or the cook, and he showed me
where they slept—the one below, the other above,
alongside of your wife, your wife, your wifel" answered'
Tortillard, chanting as usual.
After a long silence, the Maitre d'Eeole said in a calm
voice, with sincere but frightful resolution:
" Listen, I have had enough of life. Just now—well
—yes—I acknowledge it—I had a hope, which now
makes my fate appear still more frightful ; the prison,
the galleys, the guillotin.-, are nothing compared to
shall be killed afterward; it's all the same to me.
Hatred suffocates me—I shall be revenged—that wil!
comfort me. What I now endure is too much—is too
much forme, before whom every one trembled. Stop!
do you hear? if you knew what I suffered, you would
have pity on me. Row now! it seems as if my head
would burst—my brain is on fire—my blood will suffo-
cate me."
" A cold in the head, old man? I know it. Sneeze; ii
will clear it out," said Tortillard, screaming with laugh-
ter. "Will you have a pinch?" And striking the bach
of his left hand closed, as if he had struck a snuff-bojii
he sung:
'    " In my box I have good snuff,
You shan't have any, that's enough.
"Oh! mon Dieul mon Dieu! they wish to make me
mad!" cried the brigand, becoming almost insane from
a concentration of hatred, rage and implacable r.<-
venge. The exuberance of the strength of this mon-
ster could only be equalled by its impotence.
Let the reader imagine a famished wolf, harassfd
during an entire day by a child through the bars of his
cage, and scenting at two steps from him a victim
which would at once satisfy Lis hunger and rage. At
the last sarcasms of Tortillard, the brigand almost losî
his senses. In default of a victim, he wished, in hia
.madness, to shed his own blood.   Blood choked him.
For a moment he was decided to kill himself; if he
had had a loaded pistol in his hand, he had not hesi-
tated. He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a long
knife, opened it, and raised it to strike; but rapid as
were these movements, reflection, fear, vital instinct,
preceded them. Courage was wanting to the murderer;
his arm fell on his knees.
Tortillard had followed these movements with an at-
tentive eye; when he saw the inoffensive denouement
of this tragic valleity, he cried, chuckling, " Waiter, a
duel! plumez des canards." The Maitre d'Eeole, fear-
ing that he should lose his reason in a last and useless
burst of rage, did not wish, as we may say, to hear this
new insult of Tortillard. Despairing to escape from
that which he called the eruelty of the child, the brig-
and wished to make a last effort, by addressing him»
self to the cupidity of the son of Bras-Rouge.
" Oh 1" said he to him, in a voice almost suriplieating,
¦'conduct me to the door of my wife; you "shall take
what you wish from her chamber, and then leave me
alone; you shall cry murder if you will! I shall be
arrested, I shall be killed on the spot; so much the bet-
ter! I shall die revenged. Oh! lead me; there must!
be some gold, some jewels in her room; I tell you you
shall take all—for yourself alone—do you understand?
for yourself alone. I only ask you to lead me to.hw?
door."
" Yes, I understand well; you wish I should lead yoffi
to her door, and then to her bed, and then that I
should tell vou where to strike, and then that I should
guide your "hand; is it not so, you wish that I should!
serve asa handle to your knife, old monsterl" an-
swered Tortillard, with an expression of contempt, of
rage, and of horror, which, for the first time during
that day, rendered serious his weasel face, heretofore
impudent and bold. " I would be killed first—do you
understand?—than to be forced to conduct you to your
wife." "You refuse?" The son of Bras-Rouge made
no answer. He drew near with naked feet to the Maî-
tre d'Eeole, whowas seated on the bed holding hi9
large knife in his hand; then with marvellous dexter-
ity snatched the weapon, and with one bound gained
the other side of. the chamber. ' ' My knife 1 my knife I"
cried the brigand, stretching out his arms. " No, for
you would be capable to ask to speak to. your wife to-
morrow, and then kill her, since you say you have
enough of life, and you are coward enough not to dare
to kill yourself. "
" He defends my wife, now 1" cried the bandit, whose
mind began to wander. " Is he a devil, then, this little
monster? Where ami? Why does he defend her?"
" To make you mad," said Tortillard, and his ex-
pression resumed its mask of impudent raillery.
"Alii it is so!" murmured the Maitre d'Eeole, almosS
in a state of insanity; "well! I shall set fire to the
house! We will burn all togetherl all! Ipreferthis
furnace to the other. The candle—the candle !" "Ah!
ah! ahl" cried Tortillard, bursting out with renewed
laughter; " if some one had not blown out your candle
—yours—forever, you would see that ours has been out
Ma chandt lie est morte.
Je n'ai plus de feu."
The Maitre d'Ecole uttered a heavy groan, stretcTieâ
out liis arms, aud fell at full length upon the floor:
struck with a rush of blood to the head, he remained
without movement.
"I understand, old manl". said Tortillard; "it's a
feint to bring me alongside of you, and fetch me a clip.
When you are tired of lying on the floor, you'll get
up."
And the son of Bras-Rouge, decided not to goto sleep
for fear of being surprised by the Maitre d'Eeole, re-
mained seated on his chair, with his eyes attentively
fixed upon the brigand, persuaded that it was only a
snare laid for him, and that he was in no danger. To
employ himself agreeably, he drew from his pocket a
small purse of red silk, and counted slowly, with
greedy eyes, the seventeen pieces of gold it «on-
tained.
The reader will recollect that Rodolphe, in giving the
purse to Madame d'Harville, the day of the fatal
rendezvous, had told her to go up to the garret of tha
Morels, under pretence of giving them assistance,
Madame d'Harville mounted the' staircase rapidly,
holding the purse in her hand, when Tortillard, de-
scending from the quack's, spied the purse, pretended
to fall in passing the marchioness, giving her a violent
push, .and in the confusion carried it off. Madame
d'Harville, alarmed, and hearing the steps of her hus-
band, hurried on to the garret, without having tho
power to complain of the audacious robbery of the lit
tie lame boy.
After having counted and recounted his gold, Tortil-
lard, hearing no more noise about the house, went with
naked feet, cautiously shading the candle with his
hand, to take impressions of the locks of the fou»
doors whieh opened on the corridor, ready to say, ii
he should be seen by any one, that he sought assistance
for his father.
On entering, he found theMaitre d'Eeole in the same
position ; for a moment alarmed, he listened, and heard
„ that he breathed regularly; he believed he was stili
whatl have endured since this morning; and this I'playing his game. "Always the same, then, old man?"
shall have to endu re forever. Conduct me to the cham- ! said he to him.
ber of my wife; I have my knife—I will kill her.   1 '    Chance had saved the Maitre d'Eeole framacongeS"