_Théophraste’s Memory Is Refreshed_
|THEY wandered down to the lawns at the foot of the ramparts, and
walking across the green grass, they stopped at the foot of a
forked tree. They were seated chatting for some time, when suddenly
Théophraste’s face seemed to light up as if he recalled something. It
seemed as if his memory had suddenly become awakened to events of years
ago. His whole soul was filled with sweet memories, like the tenderest
recollections of youthful days returning, after having been forgotten
for a long time. In his mind he saw perfectly the spirit of Cartouche,
as if he had never been separated from him by two hundred years. It
seemed to come suddenly to him, and as the events came back to him, he
related them to Adolphe, in the following words:
“Adolphe, my friend, I must tell you that at that time my fortune was
complete. I was dreaded and yet liked by all. I was even liked by my
victims. I despoiled them so gallantly that they went their way along
through the city singing my praises. I had not yet been attacked by that
wonderful sanguinary instinct which some months later made me commit the
most atrocious crimes. Everything prospered with me; everybody feared me
and loved me. I was happy, merry, of a magnificent audacity, gallant in
love, and the ruler of Paris. They said that I was the greatest of
all robbers; that was only half true, because it was imperative that I
should partake of the sovereignty with M. Law, the Controller-General of
Finance. My glory was at its zenith; for often he and his people paid
me tribute. But he imagined he might excite the Regent against me. One
evening when I had stolen into his room in his hotel, disguised as
a lackey to Lord Dermott, the Regent sent for Monsieur d’Argenson,
keeper of the seals, and told him that he had eight hours in which to
arrest me. M. d’Argenson promised everything he wanted, provided they
let him go by the way of the Convent of the Madeline du Frainel, where
his mistress, Mlle. Husson, had taken refuge. Eight hours later, M.
d’Argenson was still at the Convent with Mlle. Husson. As for me, my
dear Adolphe, during that time, I attended to my small affairs, and I
commanded without any trouble three thousand men. It was the month of
September, the nights were beautiful and clear, and we profited by this
to get into the house of the Spanish Ambassador, who lived in the old
hotel of the Marshal d’Aucre, in the Rue de Fournon, the same house
even which has since been occupied by the Guard de Paris. We entered
his wife’s bedroom and took possession of all her dresses, of a buckle
ornament with twenty-seven large diamonds, a necklace of very fine
pearls, six plates, six table sets, six knives and ten coral goblets.
We rolled it all up in a table cloth, and went to supper at the house
of the Belle Helene, who kept what you called the Inn of the Harp in the
Rue de la Harp.
“Oh, Adolphe, what a wonderful thing memory is! Truly I do not know
why I said that _you_ called it the Inn of the Harp, unless in my mind
you are representing a friend whom I had, who was as good as you, and
whom I loved as well as you, whose name was Va-de-Bon Cœur. By the
Thunder of the Breast, but he was a handsome young fellow! He was a
sergeant of the French Guards, and he was my lieutenant. I must tell
you, my dear Adolphe, that I commanded a considerable number of
French Guardsmen. At the time of my arrest, one hundred and fifty
non-commissioned officers, soldiers of the French Guard, hid themselves,
and disappeared over to the colonies. They dreaded lest I should
compromise them. They were wrong, however, for torture could not make me
speak. However, let me leave those melancholy moments, and come back to
the beautiful September nights. We will proceed to the time when it
was customary for the Parisians to take up their new abodes. The Regent
showed still more anger against me and M. d’Argenson, when he learned
about the escapade against the Spanish Ambassador. Imagine his fury as
I turned my attentions to him. Va-de-Bon Cœur, being on guard at the
Palais Royal, carried off two vermilion flambeaux, which the Duke of
Orleans prized very highly. The Regent was so afraid of being robbed
that instead of wearing silver-faced buckles and sword handles, he
resolved to substitute carved steel. On the first day that he carried
one of that kind, I, Cartouche, stole it from him as he was leaving the
opera house. The next day I sent it back to him in pieces, and I taunted
him about his apparent avarice, and upbraided him, that he, the greatest
man in France, should wish to deprive his unfortunate confrères, the
silversmiths, of a livelihood.
“He answered me publicly by proclaiming that he was very anxious to
know me, and that he would give from his own pocket 20,000 pounds to
whoever would bring Cartouche to him. The next day, as he walked to
Saint Germain and was breakfasting in the castle, he found under his
napkin a message of which you will readily see the sense: ‘My lord,
you can see me for nothing. It may be to-night, at midnight, behind the
Anne of Austria Wall in the forest, where Cartouche will expect you. You
are brave. Come alone. If you come accompanied, you run the danger of
death.’
“At midnight, I awaited the Regent; twelve o’clock was still
sounding in the Loges, when the Regent appeared. The moonlight made the
forest seem like fairyland—enchanted, such as one sees at the theater.
The forest, a marvelous, transparent blue, seemed bereft of all its
branches, of all its foliage, of all its thickets.
“‘Behold me, Cartouche,’ said the prince; ‘I come to you armed
with my sword alone, as you have wished. I run perhaps the greatest
danger,’ he said in a clear, derisive voice, ‘but who would not
risk everything to see at close range at midnight, in the heart of the
forest, the form of Cartouche, when it costs nothing?’ Oh, Adolphe,
my friend, that thou couldst have been there to hear me respond to the
Regent of France! To be sure, I am only the son of a poor cooper of the
Rue du Pontaux-Choux, but what Condé, what Montmorency could have bowed
with more grace, sweeping the wet grass with the plume of his hat? The
Duke de Richelieu himself could not kneel more elegantly than I did, nor
present in a more gracious manner to my lord the purse that I had taken
from his pocket. ‘I am,’ said I, ‘the most humble servant of my
lord, and I beg him to take back from Cartouche this purse that I had
the audacity to steal with so much coolness, only to prove to my lord
that his highness finds himself face to face with Cartouche.’ The
Regent begged me to preserve that purse for a remembrance of him. He was
wrong to relate, in the course of time, this anecdote; for the report
was spread that he was one of my band. I believe that he had started to
go away, when he put his arm in mine and dragged me as far to the right
as we are sitting to-day.
“Then the regent did me the honor to put his arm in mine, and I saw
that he had something of a secret nature to confide to me. He did not
wait to acknowledge that he counted upon my ingenuity to avenge
him for an offense that Monsieur the Controller-General had committed
against him. He told me that he was quite in love with the courtesan,
Emily; that she was his mistress, and had been for fifteen days, and
that he had learned from La Fillon that M. Law had the promise of her
favors the next night against the present that he would make her of a
ten-thousand-louis necklace. He was sure of it, for La Fillon was never
mistaken. Was it not from her that he had had a hint of the Cellamore
conspiracy? All the rogues of Paris knew La Fillon.
“La Fillon is a woman of five feet ten inches, who was admirably
formed, a ravishingly beautiful face. From the age of fifteen years,
that model beauty thought that Nature had not provided such rare
treasures to be hidden, so she lavished them. The Duke d’Orleans, a
long time before the regency, loved her. He remained smitten with her
for more than a year. It was for her that he had constructed, in a
retired part of the gardens of Saint Germain, a sort of grotto, lighted
mysteriously by several rays directed upon a bed of mats, upon which his
mistress stretched herself, clothed in her blonde hair only. He showed
them to all who passed that way, and in that way he made numerous
friends. But the fifteen years of La Fillon flew away in happy days. Now
she had no longer the enjoyment of intrigue, of which she has made
two parts—gallantry and observation. So she furnished some important
information to the police and to M. d’Argenson, guard of the seals,
and some remarkable subjects for the amours of the Regent. It was she
who procured Emily for him, who is by far the prettiest girl in Paris.
Everybody wanted to steal her from him. Law, who was the richest, swore
to succeed there. The bargain was concluded for the next night.
“‘Cartouche,’ the Regent said to me, after having explained
his small affairs to me, ‘thou art a brave man. I give thee the
necklace.’
“And he went away in the moonlight, giving me a slight wave of the
hand. This kind of mission that I received—to thwart the loves of the
Superintendent, and avenge those of the Duke of Orleans, filled me with
pride.
“Being back in Paris, I learned near the morning, through my police
(which was the best information of the epoch), that the courtesan Emily
lived at a small hotel in the Mardis, at the corner of the Rue Barbette
and of the Trois-Pavillons, and that the Regent showed more attachment
for her than he had ever for the Duchess of Berry, with whom he was
disgusted long since for La Baratere, who shut herself up in the Convent
of Chelles, less on account of her love for God than for her liking for
the beautiful nuns (what morals, my dear Adolphe, what morals!), and it
consoled her that she had recently been mistaken for Mlle de Valois,
uniquely occupied with the Duke de Richelieu. This courtesan, Emily,
was no more than an opera girl, but her beauty, as I have told you,
surpassed all that one can imagine—I was not long in judging for
myself.
“Twenty-four hours after the interview of Saint Germain, that is to
say the midnight following, I went out with a placard describing exactly
the angle of the Rue des Trois-Pavillons and the Rue Barbette. I had, as
if by chance, a pistol in each hand, which made it impossible for me to
decently bow to Mlle. Emily, who appeared, considering the hour, in the
most polite dishabille, with the Superintendent, who presented a casket
to her in which there shone the gems of a necklace, which was valued at
the least at ten thousand louis. I excused myself for the necessity
of keeping my hat on my head, and begged Monsieur, the Superintendent,
seeing the encumbrance of my hands, to close the casket on the necklace,
and to put the whole thing in the pocket of my cinnamon coat, promising
my gratitude or recognition for this slight service.
“As he hesitated, I proceeded with my presentation, and when he knew
that my name was Cartouche, he obeyed with alacrity.
“I begged Mlle. Emily to reassure herself, declaring that she was in
no danger, of which she was convinced, for she began to laugh heartily
at the discomfiture of M. Law. I laughed also. I said to M. Law that his
necklace was worth 10,000 louis, but if he wished to send the next day,
towards five o’clock in the afternoon, a confidence man to the corner
of the Rue Vaugirard and of the Rue des Fosses—Monsieur le Prince,
with five thousand louis, they would return the collar, on the word of
honor of Cartouche. He replied to me that the bargain was concluded and
we took leave of each other.
“Two days later some one related the adventure to the Regent, who
was at first overjoyed, but whose face changed when he learned the
culmination of the event. The man, Law, had given the five thousand
louis as was arranged, to the man, Cartouche, and he expected the jewel
box, when the other told him that Cartouche had already gone to carry it
himself to Mlle. Emily. Law ran to the house of the courtesan, saw the
necklace and demanded the price.
“‘It is already received,’ replied Emily, turning her back on him.
“‘And by whom?’ exclaimed M„ le Superintendent.
“‘Evidently by the one who brought me the necklace—by Cartouche,
who has just left here. Should I not pay upon receipt of the necklace?
And immediately? I have no credit, myself,’ added she, shouting over
the discomfited face of the man of the Rue Quincamprix.
“At the Palais Royal, my dear Adolphe, the jest had the success that
you can imagine. It did not matter, the Regent had found out that I
had surpassed his instructions, and in his anger he again sent M.
d’Argenson to hunt for me. He, however, was again diverted by the
attractions of Mlle. Husson. It was a fact, my dear Adolphe, that
women were a source of great help to me, and I leaned towards them
considerably. But they contributed much to my ruin, also. Knowing of
the propriety of my manners, and of my exclusive love for Marceline, you
must think how two hundred years changes a man.”
Elated at his narrative, Adolphe laughed at the pleasantry which
terminated it. “How two hundred years changes a man!” M. Longuet
laughed at it. The supernatural and terrifying antithesis between
Cartouche and Longuet, which had plunged him at first into the most
melancholy fright, now incited him to make jests. His excuse was that
he did not see anything to fear. He only found his case a little odd.
He joked about it with Adolphe, and even resolved to no longer keep
his true personality from Marceline. She was intelligent and would
understand. He imagined that this personality would present dangers to
himself and to society, but, behold! it existed no longer in the real
condition, but only in his memory, as a vivid picture. He would not have
to control Cartouche as he had dreaded; he would only have to ask
him from time to time, some anecdote, which would help M. Longuet in
conversation. The history of the Regent, M. Law, and of the courtesan,
were sure proofs of that condition of the soul. How it had glided from
his memory without effort! What evil, then, was there in that? After
all, if he had been Cartouche, it was not his fault, and it would
be very foolish in him to be angry about it. He even joked about the
fortune.
At midnight they made their way back to Paris. As they arrived at the
station St. Lazare, M. Lecamus asked him the following question:
“My friend, when you are Cartouche, and you take your walks in Paris,
and you see the life of Paris, what astonishes you most? Is it the
telephone, or the railway, or the Metro, or the Eiffel Tower?”
Théophraste replied, “No, no. That which astonishes me most when I am
Cartouche is the police force.”