by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XII. THE PENAL CODE.
Startled for a moment by the dark and secret machinations of the blackrobes, as he called them, against the persons he most loved, Dagobertmight have hesitated an instant to attempt the deliverance of Rose andBlanche; but his indecision ceased directly on the reading of MarshalSimon's letter, which came so timely to remind him of his sacred duties.
To the soldier's passing dejection had succeeded a resolution full ofcalm and collected energy.
"Agricola, what o'clock is it?" asked he of his son.
"Just struck nine, father."
"You must make me, directly, an iron hook--strong enough to support myweight, and wide enough to hold on the coping of a wall. This stove willbe forge and anvil; you will find a hammer in the house; and, for iron,"said the soldier, hesitating, and looking around him, "as for iron--hereis some!"
So saying, the soldier took from the hearth a strong pair of tongs, andpresented them to his son, adding: "Come, my boy! blow up the fire, blowit to a white heat, and forge me this iron!"
On these words, Frances and Agricola looked at each other with surprise;the smith remained mute and confounded, not knowing the resolutionof his father, and the preparations he had already commenced with theneedlewoman's aid.
"Don't you hear me, Agricola," repeated Dagobert, still holding the pairof tongs in his hand; "you must make me a hook directly."
"A hook, father?--for what purpose?"
"To tie to the end of a cord that I have here. There must be a loop atone end large enough to fix it securely."
"But this cord--this hook--for what purpose are they?"
"To scale the walls of the convent, if I cannot get in by the door."
"What convent?" asked Frances of her son.
"How, father?" cried the latter, rising abruptly. "You still think ofthat?"
"Why! what else should I think of?"
"But, father, it is impossible; you will never attempt such anenterprise."
"What is it, my child?" asked Frances, with anxiety. "Where is fathergoing?"
"He is going to break into the convent where Marshal Simon's daughtersare confined, and carry them off."
"Great God! my poor husband--a sacrilege!" cried Frances, faithful toher pious traditions, and, clasping her hands together, she endeavoredto rise and approach Dagobert.
The soldier, forseeing that he would have to contend with observationsand prayers of all sorts, and resolved not to yield, determined to cutshort all useless supplications, which would only make him lose precioustime. He said, therefore, with a grave, severe, and almost solemn air,which showed the inflexibility of his determination: "Listen to me,wife--and you also, my son--when, at my age, a man makes up his mind todo anything, he knows the reason why. And when a man has once made uphis mind, neither wife nor child can alter it. I have resolved to do myduty; so spare yourselves useless words. It may be your duty to talk tome as you have done; but it is over now, and we will say no more aboutit. This evening I must be master in my own house."
Timid and alarmed, Frances did not dare to utter a word, but she turneda supplicating glance towards her son.
"Father," said the latter, "one word more--only one."
"Let us hear," replied Dagobert, impatiently.
"I will not combat your resolution; but I will prove to you that you donot know to what you expose yourself."
"I know it all," replied the soldier, in an abrupt tone. "Theundertaking is a serious one; but it shall not be said that I neglectedany means to accomplish what I promised to do."
"But father, you do not know to what danger you expose yourself," saidthe smith, much alarmed.
"Talk of danger! talk of the porter's gun and the gardener's scythe!"said Dagobert, shrugging his shoulders contemptuously. "Talk of them,and have done with it for, after all, suppose I were to leave my carcassin the convent, would not you remain to your mother? For twenty years,you were accustomed to do without me. It will be all the less trying toyou."
"And I, alas! am the cause of these misfortunes!" cried the poor mother."Ah! Gabriel had good reason to blame me."
"Mme. Frances, be comforted," whispered the sempstress, who had drawnnear to Dagobert's wife. "Agricola will not suffer his father to exposehimself thus."
After a moment's hesitation, the smith resumed, in an agitated voice:"I know you too well, father, to think of stopping you by the fear ofdeath."
"Of what danger, then, do you speak?"
"Of a danger from which even you will shrink, brave as you are," saidthe young man, in a voice of emotion, that forcibly struck his father.
"Agricola," said the soldier, roughly and severely, "that remark iscowardly, you are insulting."
"Father--"
"Cowardly!" resumed the soldier, angrily; "because it is cowardice towish to frighten a man from his duty--insulting! because you think mecapable of being so frightened."
"Oh, M. Dagobert!" exclaimed the sewing-girl, "you do not understandAgricola."
"I understand him too well," answered the soldier harshly.
Painfully affected by the severity of his father, but firm in hisresolution, which sprang from love and respect, Agricola resumed, whilsthis heart beat violently. "Forgive me, if I disobey you, father; but,were you to hate me for it, I must tell you to what you expose yourselfby scaling at night the walls of a convent--"
"My son! do you dare?" cried Dagobert, his countenance inflamed withrage-"Agricola!" exclaimed Frances, in tears. "My husband!"
"M. Dagobert, listen to Agricola!" exclaimed Mother Bunch. "It is onlyin your interest that he speaks."
"Not one word more!" replied the soldier, stamping his foot with anger.
"I tell you, father," exclaimed the smith, growing fearfully pale as hespoke, "that you risk being sent to the galleys!"
"Unhappy boy!" cried Dagobert, seizing his son by the arm; "could younot keep that from me--rather than expose me to become a traitor and acoward?" And the soldier shuddered, as he repeated: "The galleys!"--and,bending down his head, remained mute, pensive, withered, as it were, bythose blasting words.
"Yes, to enter an inhabited place by night, in such a manner, is whatthe law calls burglary, and punishes with the galleys," cried Agricola,at once grieved and rejoicing at his father's depression of mind--"yes,father, the galleys, if you are taken in the act; and there are tenchances to one that you would be so. Mother Bunch has told you, theconvent is guarded. This morning, had you attempted to carry off the twoyoung ladies in broad daylight, you would have been arrested; but, atleast, the attempt would have been an open one, with a character ofhonest audacity about it, that hereafter might have procured youracquittal. But to enter by night, and by scaling the walls--I tell you,the galleys would be the consequence. Now, father, decide. Whatever youdo, I will do also--for you shall not go alone. Say but the word, and Iwill forge the hook for you--I have here hammer and pincers--and in anhour we will set out."
A profound silence followed these words--a silence that was onlyinterrupted by the stifled sobs of Frances, who muttered to herself indespair: "Alas! this is the consequence of listening to Abbe Dubois!"
It was in vain that Mother Bunch tried to console Frances. She washerself alarmed, for the soldier was capable of braving even infamy, andAgricola had determined to share the perils of his father.
In spite of his energetic and resolute character, Dagobert remained forsome time in a kind of stupor. According to his military habits, he hadlooked at this nocturnal enterprise only as a ruse de guerre, authorizedby his good cause, and by the inexorable fatality of his position; butthe words of his son brought him back to the fearful reality, andleft him the choice of a terrible alternative--either to betray theconfidence of Marshal Simon, and set at naught the last wishes of themother of the orphan--or else to expose himself, and above all hisson, to lasting disgrace--without even the certainty of delivering theorphans after all.
Drying her eyes, bathed in tears, Frances exclaimed, as if by a suddeninspiration: "
Dear me! I have just thought of it. There is perhaps a wayof getting these dear children from the convent without violence."
"How so, mother?" said Agricola, hastily.
"It is Abbe Dubois, who had them conveyed thither; but Gabriel supposes,that he probably acted by the advice of M. Rodin.
"And if that were so, mother, it would be in vain to apply to M. Rodin.We should get nothing from him."
"Not from him--but perhaps from that powerful abbe, who is Gabriel'ssuperior, and has always patronized him since his first entrance at theseminary."
"What abbe, mother?"
"Abbe d'Aigrigny."
"True mother; before being a priest, he was a soldier he may be moreaccessible than others--and yet--"
"D'Aigrigny!" cried Dagobert, with an expression of hate and horror."There is then mixed up with these treasons, a man who was a soldierbefore being a priest, and whose name is D'Aigrigny?"
"Yes, father; the Marquis d'Aigrigny--before the Restoration, in theservice of Russia--but, in 1815, the Bourbons gave him a regiment."
"It is he!" said Dagobert, in a hollow voice. "Always the same! like anevil spirit--to the mother, father, children."
"What do you mean, father?"
"The Marquis d'Aigrigny!" replied Dagobert. "Do you know what is thisman? Before he was a priest, he was the murderer of Rose and Blanche'smother, because she despised his love. Before he was a priest, he foughtagainst his country, and twice met General Simon face to face in war.Yes; while the general was prisoner at Leipsic, covered with woundsat Waterloo, the turncoat marquis triumphed with the Russians andEnglish!--Under the Bourbons, this same renegade, loaded with honors,found himself once more face to face with the persecuted soldier of theempire. Between them, this time, there was a mortal duel--the marquiswas wounded--General Simon was proscribed, condemned, driven into exile.The renegade, you say, has become a priest. Well! I am now certain, thatit is he who has carried off Rose and Blanche, in order to wreak on themhis hatred of their father and mother. It is the infamous D'Aigrigny,who holds them in his power. It is no longer the fortune of thesechildren that I have to defend; it is their life--do you hear what Isay?--their very life?"
"What, father! do you think this man capable--"
"A traitor to his country, who finishes by becoming a mock priest, iscapable of anything. I tell you, that, perhaps at this moment he maybe killing those children by a slow-fire!" exclaimed the soldier, in avoice of agony. "To separate them from one another was to begin to killthem. Yes!" added Dagobert, with an exasperation impossible to describe;"the daughters of Marshal Simon are in the power of the Marquisd'Aigrigny and his band, and I hesitate to attempt their rescue, forfear of the galleys! The galleys!" added he, with a convulsive burst oflaughter; "what do I care for the galleys? Can they send a corpse there?If this last attempt fail, shall I not have the right to blow my brainsout?--Put the iron in the fire, my boy--quick! time presses--and strikewhile the iron's hot!"
"But your son goes with you!" exclaimed Frances, with a cry of maternaldespair. Then rising, she threw herself at the feet of Dagobert, andsaid: "If you are arrested, he will be arrested also."
"To escape the galleys, he will do as I do. I have two pistols."
"And without you--without him," cried the unhappy mother, extending herhands in supplication, "what will become of me?"
"You are right--I was too selfish," said Dagobert. "I will go alone."
"You shall not go alone, father," replied Agricola.
"But your mother?"
"Mother Bunch sees what is passing; she will go to Mr. Hardy, my master,and tell him all. He is the most generous of men, and my mother willhave food and shelter for the rest of her days."
"And I am the cause of all!" cried Frances, wringing her hands indespair. "Punish me, oh, heaven! for it is my fault. I gave up thosechildren. I shall be punished by the death of my child!"
"Agricola, you shall not go with me--I forbid it!" said Dagobert,clasping his son closely to his breast.
"What! when I have pointed out the danger, am I to be the first toshrink from it? you cannot think thus lowly of me, father! Have I notalso some one to deliver? The good, the generous Mdlle. de Cardoville,who tried to save me from a prison, is a captive in her turn. I willfollow you, father. It is my right, my duty, my determination."
So saying, Agricola put into the heated stove the tongs that wereintended to form the hook. "Alas! may heaven have pity upon us!" criedhis poor mother, sobbing as she still knelt, whilst the soldier seemed aprey to the most violent internal struggle.
"Do not cry so, dear mother; you will break my heart," said Agricola,as he raised her with the sempstress's help. "Be comforted! I haveexaggerated the danger of my father. By acting prudently, we two maysucceed in our enterprise; without much risk--eh, father?" added he,with a significant glance at Dagobert. "Once more, be comforted, dearmother. I will answer for everything. We will deliver Marshal Simon'sdaughters, and Mdlle. de Cardoville too. Sister, give me the hammer andpincers, there in the press."
The sempstress, drying her tears, did as desired, while Agricola, by thehelp of bellows, revived the fire in which the tongs were heating.
"Here are your tools, Agricola," said the hunchback, in adeeply-agitated voice, as she presented them with trembling hands tothe smith, who, with the aid of the pincers, soon drew from the firethe white-hot tongs, and, with vigorous blows of the hammer, formed theminto a hook, taking the stove for his anvil.
Dagobert had remained silent and pensive. Suddenly he said to Frances,taking her by the hand: "You know what metal your son is. To prevent hisfollowing me would now be impossible. But do not be afraid, dear wife;we shall succeed--at least, I hope so. And if we should not succeed--ifAgricola and me should be arrested--well! we are not cowards; we shallnot commit suicide; but father and son will go arm in arm to prison,with heads high and proud, look like two brave men who have done theirduty. The day of trial must come, and we will explain all, honestly,openly--we will say, that, driven to the last extremity, finding nosupport, no protection in the law, we were forced to have recourse toviolence. So hammer away, my boy!" added Dagobert, addressing his son,pounding the hot iron; "forge, forge, without fear. Honest judges willabsolve honest men."
"Yes, father, you are right, be at ease dear mother! The judges will seethe difference between rascals who scale walls in order to rob, andan old soldier and his son who, at peril of their liberty, their life,their honor, have sought only to deliver unhappy victims."
"And if this language should not be heard," resumed Dagobert, "so muchthe worse for them! It will not be your son, or husband, who will bedishonored in the eyes of honest people. If they send us to the galleys,and we have courage to survive--the young and the old convict will weartheir chains proudly--and the renegade marquis, the traitor priest,will bear more shame than we. So, forge without fear, my boy! There arethings which the galleys themselves cannot disgrace--our good conscienceand our honor! But now," he added, "two words with my good Mother Bunch.It grows late, and time presses. On entering the garden, did you remarkif the windows of the convent were far from the ground?"
"No, not very far, M. Dagobert--particularly on that side which isopposite to the madhouse, where Mdlle. de Cardoville is confined."
"How did you manage to speak to that young lady?"
"She was on the other side of an open paling, which separates the twogardens."
"Excellent!" said Agricola, as he continued to hammer the iron: "we caneasily pass from one garden to the other. The madhouse may perhapsbe the readier way out. Unfortunately, you do not know, Mdlle. deCardoville's chamber."
"Yes, I do," returned the work-girl, recollecting herself. "She islodged in one of the wings, and there is a shade over her window,painted like canvas, with blue and white stripes."
"Good! I shall not forget that."
"And can you form no guess as to where are the rooms of my poorchildren?" said Dagobert.
After a moment's reflection, Mother Bunch an
swered, "They are oppositeto the chamber occupied by Mdlle. de Cardoville, for she makes signsto them from her window: and I now remember she told me, that their tworooms are on different stories, one on the ground-floor, and the otherup one pair of stairs."
"Are these windows grated?" asked the smith.
"I do not know."
"Never mind, my good girl: with these indications we shall do verywell," said Dagobert. "For the rest, I have my plans."
"Some water, my little sister," said Agricola, "that I may cool myiron." Then addressing his father: "Will this hook do?"
"Yes, my boy; as soon as it is cold we will fasten the cord."
For some time, Frances Baudoin had remained upon her knees, praying withfervor. She implored Heaven to have pity on Agricola and Dagobert,who, in their ignorance, were about to commit a great crime; and sheentreated that the celestial vengeance might fall upon her only, as shealone had been the cause of the fatal resolution of her son and husband.
Dagobert and Agricola finished their preparations in silence. Theywere both very pale, and solemnly grave. They felt all the danger of sodesperate an enterprise.
The clock at Saint-Mery's struck ten. The sound of the bell was faint,and almost drowned by the lashing of the wind and rain, which had notceased for a moment.
"Ten o'clock!" said Dagobert, with a start. "There is not a minute tolose. Take the sack, Agricola."
"Yes, father."
As he went to fetch the sack, Agricola approached Mother Bunch, who washardly able to sustain herself, and said to her in a rapid whisper: "Ifwe are not here to-morrow, take care of my mother. Go to M. Hardy, whowill perhaps have returned from his journey. Courage, my sister! embraceme. I leave poor mother to you." The smith, deeply affected, pressed thealmost fainting girl in his arms.
"Come, old Spoil-sport," said Dagobert: "you shall be our scout."Approaching his wife, who, just risen from the ground, was clasping herson's head to her bosom, and covering it with tears and kisses, he saidto her, with a semblance of calmness and serenity: "Come, my dear wife,be reasonable! Make us a good fire. In two or three hours we will bringhome the two poor children, and a fine young lady. Kiss me! that willbring me luck."
Frances threw herself on her husband's neck, without uttering a word.This mute despair, mingled with convulsive sobs, was heart-rending.Dagobert was obliged to tear himself from his wife's arms, and strivingto conceal his emotion, he said to his son, in an agitated voice:"Let us go--she unmans me. Take care of her, my good Mother Bunch.Agricola--come!"
The soldier slipped the pistols into the pocket of his great coat, andrushed towards the door, followed by Spoil-sport.
"My son, let me embrace you once more--alas! it is perhaps for the lasttime!" cried the unfortunate mother, incapable of rising, but stretchingout her arms to Agricola. "Forgive me! it is all my fault."
The smith turned back, mingled his tears with those of his mother--forhe also wept--and murmured, in a stifled voice: "Adieu, dear mother! Becomforted. We shall soon meet again."
Then, escaping from the embrace, he joined his father upon the stairs.
Frances Baudoin heaved a long sigh, and fell almost lifeless into theneedlewoman's arms.
Dagobert and Agricola left the Rue Brise-Miche in the height ofthe storm, and hastened with great strides towards the Boulevard del'Hopital, followed by the dog.