The Adventures of François

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by S. Weir Mitchell


  *XIX*

  _Of the sorrowful life of loneliness, of Francois's arrest, and of thosehe met in prison._

  Francois stood still. He was alone, and felt of a sudden, as neverbefore, the solitude of an uncompanioned life. The subtle influence ofthe Terror had begun to sap the foundations of even his resolutecheerfulness. It was this constancy of dread which to some natures madethe terrible certainties of the prisons a kind of relief. He lookedafter the retreating figure as it moved along the _quai_ and was lost toview in the Rue des Petits-Augustines.

  "Toto," he said, "I would I had his clever head. When 't is a questionof 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 soonregained his own room. The Crab would go to the afternoon market; hernet swung over her arm at the time he had seen her; and, as she alwaysmoved slowly, he had ample leisure.

  He packed his bag, and taking from his pistol the paper he had securedwhen 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 hispistol back on the peg high up in the chimney. He had been in the housenearly an hour, and was ready to leave, when he heard feet, and a knockat 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, withouthesitation, he opened the door. Three municipals entered. One of themsaid:

  "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 giveit to thee or to the republic." He took up his slender baggage, andfollowed them. When they were down-stairs, he asked leave to see theCrab. The guard called her out of her den.

  "_Chere maman_," said Francois, "this is thy doing. These good citizenshave my rapier, and the pistol is gone. Not a sou is left thee. Thouhast killed the goose that laid the golden eggs. Alas!"

  The Crab rattled her claws on the sticks, and these on the floor, andspat vileness of thieves' slang, declaring it a wicked lie. Would theytake the silver-hilted sword? It was hers, and he owed her rent. Atlast, laughing, the guards secured the thief's hands behind his back,and marched him away to the revolutionary committee of the sectionFranklin. Here no time was lost with the _emigre_, who was sent off in ahurry to the prison of the Madelonnettes, with poor Toto trotting afterhim, much perplexed by the performance.

  Francois was astounded at the celerity and certainty of the methods bywhich he, a free Arab of the streets, was thus caged. As usual, itacted on his sense of humor, and before the dreaded sectional tribunaland with the municipals he was courageously merry. When he heard that hewas to be sent to the Madelonnettes, he said:

  "But, citizens, I am not of the sex. _Mon Dieu!_ the Madelonnettes! 'Tis not respectable--'t is not decent"; and he laughed outright. As noman was ever so made as to be protected from the infection of such mirthas the thief's, the judges laughed in chorus. One of them, disturbed inhis slumber, awoke, and seeing no cause for this long-visaged flap-earso 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 theeI am only an honest thief. I did not expect to be made of the finenobility 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. _Aurevoir_."

  "Take him away! The next case."

  The thief was gay, and amused the officers; but his keen senses were nowall on guard, and, too, like others, he felt relieved at the ending ofhis life of suspense and watchful anxiety. His misfortune was plainlydue to the avarice and needs of the Crab, and to her belief that he hadceased 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 carefulnote of it all. The prison stood in the Rue des Fontaines: a gray stonebuilding, with a lofty story on the first floor, and, above, threestories and an attic; a high wall to left shut in the garden.

  On entering a long, dark corridor, his bonds were removed, his bundlewas searched, and what little money he had was scrupulously restored tohim. He was stripped and examined, even to his shoes; but as the tongueof leather was loose only at the toes, the precious document escaped avery rigorous search. Poor Toto had been left outside, despiteFrancois's entreaties. In the cell to which he was consigned were eightstraw mattresses. He arranged his small baggage, and was told he wasfree to go whither he would above the _rez-de-chaussee_, which was keptfor forgers of assignats and thieves. The corridor was some fifty feetlong, and smelt horribly. On the main floor was the common dining-room.A separate stair-case led to a garden of considerable size, planted withbox and a few quince- and other fruit-trees. At night two municipalsguarded this space, while, outside, the steps of sentries could be heardwhen the hours of darkness brought their quiet. At 9 P.M. theprisoners, who assembled in the large hall, answered to their names; abell rang, and they were locked in their cells, or slept as they couldin the corridors. The richer captives were taxed to support their poorcompanions, and even to buy and feed the mastiffs which roamed at nightin the garden.

  Much of all this Francois learned as he arranged his effects and talkedgaily with the turnkey, one Vaubertrand, a watchful but not unkindlylittle man. Thus informed, Francois, curious as usual, went down thecorridor, and out into the garden. Here were quite two hundred men andwomen, some in careful, neat dress, many in rags. He saw, as he looked,cures, ladies, seamstresses, great nobles, unlucky colonels, and, as helearned later, musicians, poets; and, to his surprise, for he knew thetheaters, actors such as Fleury, Saint-Prix, and Champville, whosedelicious laughter the Comedie Francaise knew so well. Here, too, wereBoulainvilliers, De Crosne, and Dozincourt, the ex-kings and heroes ofthe comic stage; and there, in a group apart, the fine gentles and dameswho had exchanged Versailles and the Trianon for this home of disastrousfortunes.

  "Yes," said the turnkey; "the citizen is right; 't is a drollmenagerie," and so left him.

  Francois looked at the walls and chained dogs, and knew at once that thelarge numbers in the prison made impossible that solitude in which plansof escape prosper. For a while no one noticed him so far as to speak tohim. The ill-clad and poor kept to one side of the garden; on theother, well-dressed people were chatting in the sun. Women were sewing;a young man was reciting verses; and De Crosne, with the child of theconcierge on his lap, was telling fairy-tales. Ignorant of theetiquette of the prison, Francois wandered here and there, not observingthat he was stared at with surprise as he moved among the better clad onthe sunny side of the yard. He was interested by what he saw. Howquiet they all were! what fine garments! what bowing and courtesying!He liked it, as he always liked dress and color, and the ways of theseimperturbable great folks. Beyond this his reflections did not go; noras yet had he been here long enough to note how, day by day, somegentleman 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 apartin self-contained grief, remembering those they had lost. The thiefmoved 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 wasbagged and caged just after I left you. We are both new arrivals. Comeaside 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. Iwas careless; and, after all, Francois, it was my fate--my shadow. Aman does many things to amuse himself, and some one of them casts alengthening shadow as time goes on. The sh
adow--my shadow--well, nomatter. We all have our shadows, and at sunset they lengthen."

  "'T is like enough, monsieur. 'T is like me. There is a man with awart I am afraid of, and it is because of that wart. The man is adrunken fool."

  "Despard is my wart," said the marquis, dryly. "As to being afraid, mygood 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! Idid 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 impassiveseigneur illustrated the fact that but one of his many misdeeds had caston his future a lengthening shadow of what he would have hesitated tocall remorse.

  "Francois," he said, "you and I are new additions to this queercollection. 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 bestsociety in France. There are M. de la Ferte, the Comte de Mirepoix, theDuc de Levis, the Marquis de Fleury. I used to think them dull; calamityhas not sharpened their wits. _Diable!_ but you are welcome." Themarquis had all his life amused himself with small regard to what wasthought of him or his ways of recreation. "'T is a bit of luck to findyou 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 gayjester. 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 telltaleabout 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 inperplexing these gentlemen. Your face will betray you; it used to bepretty well known. However, we shall see."

  The nobleman last named threaded his way through the crowd, excusinghimself 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 whoused 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 himto respect your desire to be known by a name not your own. Permit me toadd that I have less reason to thank some of my friends than I have tothank this gentleman. He is pleased to have mystified Paris for awager, or no matter what. Just now he is--what the deuce is it you callyourself at present?"

  Francois was delighted with the jest. "Allow me, monsieur, to pass asCitizen Francois. My real name-- But you will pardon me; real namesare dangerous."

  "And what are names to-day," said the marquis, "thine or mine? Myfriend here--well, between us, Montmorency, this is he who held thestair with me in my _ci-devant_ chateau. Thou wilt remember I told theeof it. A good twenty minutes we kept it against a hundred or so of mygrateful 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 Ithank 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 purecynical amusement, Ste. Luce said so much that was gracious. Anyfreshly gay companion was welcomed, if his manners were at allendurable. The actors and actresses were pleasantly received. The fewwho remembered the long face, and ears like sails, and the captivatinglaugh of the former reader of palms, were so bewildered by Ste. Luce'svaried statements that the poor thief found himself at least tolerated.He liked it. Nevertheless, as the days went by, and while seemingly thegayest of the gay, Francois gave serious thought to the business ofkeeping his head on his shoulders. He told fortunes,--always happyones,--played tricks, and cut out of paper all manner of animals for thelittle girl, the child of the turnkey. Toto he gave up for lost; but onthe fourth day the dog, half starved, got a chance when a prisonerentered. He dashed through the guards, and fled up stairs and down,until, seeing his master in the big hall, he ran to him, panting. Thehead jailer would have removed him, but there was a great outcry; and atlast, when little Annette, Francois's small friend, cried, the dog wasallowed to remain.

  He was, as the marquis declared, much more interesting than most of theprisoners, and possessed, as he added, the advantage over otherprisoners of being permanent. In fact, they were not. Every day or twocame long folded papers. The _ci-devant_ Baron Bellefontaine wouldto-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 andeasily terrified, so that batches of merely suspected persons werecondemned almost unheard. To be tried meant nearly always theConciergerie and death. All cases were supposed to be tried in theorder of their arrests; but great sums were spent in paying clerks tokeep names at the foot of the fatal dockets of the committee. Themembers of this terrible government survived or died with much judicialmurder on their souls; but countless millions passed through their handswithout one man of them becoming rich. Elsewhere, with the lowerofficers, gold was an effective ally when it was desired to postpone thetime of trial.

 

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