THE TAVERN OF THE BLACK GRAPE.
"The Black Grape" was the device roughly painted on the escutcheon of a
tavern that served for rendezvous to all sorts of bandits, who at that
season infested the city of Paris. Even the archers of the patrol held
in awe the semi-underground cut-throats' resort. They never ventured
into the tortuous and dark alley at about the middle of which the old
sign of the Black Grape, well known by all the thieves, creaked and
swung to the wind. Three men, seated at a table in one of the nooks of
that haunt, were discussing some important project, judging from the
mystery in which they wrapped their conversation. Pichrocholle, the
Mauvais-Garcon, and his pal Grippe-Minaud, the Tire-Laine, who, several
months before, had attended the sale of indulgences in St. Dominic's
Church, were two of the interlocutors in the consultation they were for
some time holding with Josephin, the Franc-Taupin. Strange
transformation! The adventurer, once a man of imperturbable good nature,
was unrecognizable. His now somber and even savage physiognomy revealed
a rooted grief. He left his pot of wine untouched. What stronger
evidence of his grief!
"St. Cadouin!" said Pichrocholle with a tone and gesture of devout
invocation. "We are here alone. You can now tell us what you want of us,
Josephin."
"Pichrocholle, I met you in the war--"
"Yes, I was an arquebusier in the company of Monsieur Monluc. I got
tired of killing in battle, and without profit to myself, Italians,
Spaniards, Swiss and Flemings, whom I did not know, and decided to kill
for cash Frenchmen whom I did know. I became a Mauvais-Garcon. I now
place my dagger and my sword at the service of whoever pays me. Tit for
tat."
"'Tis but to be a soldier, only in another manner," explained
Grippe-Minaud. "But this trade requires a certain courage that I do not
possess. I prefer to tackle honest bourgeois on their way home at night
without any other weapon than--their lanthorns."
"Pichrocholle," proceeded the Franc-Taupin, "I saved your life at the
battle of Marignan. I extricated you from two lansquenets, who, but for
my help, would have put you through a disagreeable quarter of an hour. I
believe I bore myself as a true comrade."
"St. Cadouin! Do you take me for an ingrate? If you have any service to
ask of me, speak freely without fear of a refusal."
"When I ran across you a few minutes ago, it occurred to me you were the
man I needed--"
"Is it some enemy you wish to rid yourself of? All you have to do is to
place me before him."
Josephin shook his head negatively, and pointed with his finger at his
own long sword, that lay across the table before him. It would have been
quite enough for such a contingency.
"You are yourself able to rid yourself of an enemy," replied the
Mauvais-Garcon. "I know it. What, then, is the job?"
The Franc-Taupin proceeded with a tremulous voice while a tear rolled
down from his eye:
"Pichrocholle, I had a sister--"
"How your voice trembles! You could not look any sadder. Pichrocholle,
the pots are empty, and no money to fill them with!" said Grippe-Minaud.
"'Sdeath, my sister!" cried the Franc-Taupin in despair. "There is a
void in my heart that nothing can fill!" and he hid his face in his
hands.
"A void is useful when it is made in the purse of a bourgeois,"
commented Grippe-Minaud, while his companion remarked:
"Come, now, Josephin, you had a sister. Is it that you have lost her?
Proceed with your story."
"She is dead!" murmured the Franc-Taupin, gulping down a sob; but
recovering, he added: "I still have a niece--"
"A niece?" asked the Mauvais-Garcon. "Is it she we must help? Is she
young and handsome--?"
The bandit stopped short at the fierce look that the Franc-Taupin shot
at him. Presently he resumed:
"I knew you one time for a jollier fellow."
"I laugh no more," rejoined the Franc-Taupin with a sinister smile. "My
cheerfulness is gone! But let us come to the point. My sister died in
prison. I succeeded at least in being allowed to see her before she
closed her eyes, and to receive her last wishes. She leaves behind three
children--a girl and two boys, but the elder does not count."
"How's that? Explain the mystery."
"I am coming to that. My sister's daughter was seized and taken to the
convent of the Augustinian sisters, where she is now detained."
"St. Cadouin! What is there to complain about? To have a niece in a
convent, is almost like having an angel on your side in paradise!"
Saying which the Mauvais-Garcon crossed himself devoutly by carrying his
thumb from his nose to his chin, and then across from one corner to the
other of his mouth.
"Oh!" exclaimed Grippe-Minaud, "And I have neither sister, daughter nor
niece in a convent! They would pray for the remission of my sins. I
could then be unconcerned for the hereafter, like a fish in the water!"
"And their prayers would not cost you a denier!" added Pichrocholle with
a sigh.
"Oh, if only my daughter Mariotte had not run away at the age of
fourteen with a jail-bird, she would now be in a convent, praying for
her good father, the Tire-Laine! By the confession! That was the dream
of my life," whereupon the thief crossed himself as the Mauvais-Garcon
had done.
The words of the two bandits suited the Franc-Taupin. They were fresh
proofs of the mixture of superstition and crime that marked the bandits'
lives. Their fanaticism squared with his own projects. He proceeded with
his story, to which his two comrades listened attentively:
"My niece has no religious vocation. She was taken to the convent, and
is held there by force. She must come out. Will you help me to carry her
off?'
"St. Cadouin!" cried the Mauvais-Garcon, terror stricken, and crossing
himself anew. "That would be sacrilege!"
"To violate a holy place!" came from Grippe-Minaud, who grew pale and
crossed himself like Pichrocholle. "By the confession! My hair stands on
end at the bare thought of such a thing!"
Dumb and stupefied, the two brigands looked at each other with dilated
eyes. The Franc-Taupin seemed in no wise disconcerted by their scruples.
After a moment of silence he proceeded:
"Mauvais-Garcons and Tire-Laines are good Catholics, I know. Therefore,
be easy, my devout friends, I have the power to absolve you."
"Are you going to make us believe you are an Apostolic Commissioner?"
"What does it matter, provided I guarantee to you a plenary indulgence?
Eh, comrades!"
"You--you--Josephin? You are mocking us! And yet you claim you have lost
your taste for mirth!"
Separated from the two thieves by the full length of the table, the
Franc-Taupin placed his sword between his legs, planted his bare dagger
close before him, and then drew a parchment out of the pocket of his
spacious hose. It was Herve's letter of absolution, which the
Franc-Taupin had picked up from the threshold of his sister's house when
the Lebrenn family was arrested. He unfolded the apostolic schedule; and
holding it open in plain view of both the brigands, he said to them:
"Look and read--you can read."
"A letter of absolution!" exclaimed the Mauvais-Garcon and the
Tire-Laine, with eyes that glistened with greed as they carefully ran
over the parchment. "It bears the seals, the signatures--there is
nothing lacking!"
"I saw day before yesterday a schedule like that in the hands of the
Count of St. Mexin, who paid me two ducats to dispatch a certain fat
advocate, a husband who stands in the way of the love affairs of the
advocatess with the young seigneur," said the Mauvais-Garcon.
"By the confession!" cried Grippe-Minaud, re-crossing himself. "The
letter is complete! It gives remission even for _reserved cases_. Thanks
to this absolution, one can do anything! Anything, without danger to his
soul!"
After reading and contemplating with ecstasies the apostolic schedule,
the two bandits exchanged a rapid and meaning look, which, however, did
not escape the Franc-Taupin, thoroughly on his guard as he was. He drew
back quickly, rose from his seat, dashed the precious parchment back
into his pocket, took a few steps away from the table, and standing
erect, his right foot forward, his sword in one hand, his dagger in the
other, thus addressed the two desperadoes:
"By the bowels of St. Quenet, my lads! I knew you for too good a brace
of Catholics not to wish to stab me to death in order to get possession
of this absolving schedule, which remits all past, present and future
crimes. Come on, my dare-devils, I have only one eye left, but it is a
good one!"
"You are crazy! It is not right to mistrust an old friend that way,"
expostulated Pichrocholle. "You misunderstood our intentions."
"We only wanted to examine more closely that blessed and priceless
letter," added the Tire-Laine. "By the confession! Happy man that you
are to possess such a treasure!" and he crossed himself. "Saints of
paradise, but grant me such a windfall, and I shall burn twenty wax
candles come Candlemas!"
"It depends upon you whether you shall own this treasure or not,"
proceeded the adventurer. "I shall give you this letter of absolution,
if you help me, to-night, to carry off my niece from the convent of the
Augustinian sisters. By virtue of this apostolic schedule, you will be
absolved of all your sins--past, present and future, and of this night's
sacrilege for good measure. Thenceforth, you will be privileged fairly
to swim in crime, without concern for your souls, as Pichrocholle just
said. Paradise will then be guaranteed to you!"
"But," remarked the Mauvais-Garcon, shaking his head, "this letter
absolves only one Christian--we are two."
"The job being done, you will cast dice for the schedule," Josephin
answered readily. "There will be one to lose and one to gain. The
chances are equal for you both."
The two bandits consulted each other with their eyes. Pichrocholle spoke
up:
"But how do you come into possession of that letter? Those absolutions
are the most expensive. St. Cadouin! The least that they cost, I hear,
is twenty-five gold crowns."
"It is none of your business from whom I hold the schedule. 'Sdeath, my
sister! All the gold in the world will not pay for the tears that piece
of parchment has caused to flow!" answered the Franc-Taupin, whose
visage expressed a profound grief as he thought of the revelations
Bridget made to him about Herve.
Recovering his composure the adventurer added:
"Will you, yes or no, both of you, lend me a strong hand to-night, in
order to carry off my niece from the convent of the Augustinian sisters,
and for another expedition? It is a double game we have to play."
"St. Cadouin! We are to make two strokes. You never told us about
that--"
"The second expedition is but child's play. To seize a little casket."
"What does the casket contain?" queried the Tire-Laine, all interest.
"Only papers," answered the Franc-Taupin, "besides a few trinkets of no
value. Moreover, seeing you are scrupulous Catholics, I shall add, for
the sake of the peace of your souls, that the casket which I wish to
recover, was stolen from my brother-in-law. You will be aiding a
restitution."
"Josephin, you are trying to deceive us!" remarked the Mauvais-Garcon.
"People do not attach so much importance to a bunch of papers and
worthless trinkets."
"When the casket is in our possession you may open it--if there be any
valuables in it, they shall be yours."
"There is nothing to say to that," rejoined Pichrocholle, looking at the
Tire-Laine. "That's fair, eh? We shall accept the proposition."
"Quite fair," returned the latter. "But let us proceed in order. The
abduction of the nun--by the navel of the Pope! I shiver at the bare
thought. Should the cast of the dice not give me the letter of
absolution, I remain guilty of a sacrilege!"
"That is your risk," answered the Franc-Taupin; "but if you gain the
indulgence--there you are, my Catholic brother, safe for all eternity,
whatever crimes you may commit."
"By the limbs of Satan! I know that well enough! It is that very thing
that lures me."
"And me too," put in the other brigand. "But how are we to manage things
in order to enter the convent?"
"I shall explain my plan to you. My brother-in-law is in hiding for fear
of being arrested. My niece, who was taken to the Augustinian Convent,
was compelled to take the vows to-day."
"How do you know that?"
"I had gone, as latterly I often get into the humor of doing, and
planted myself before my sister's house--and dreamed."
"To what end?"
"In order to contemplate that poor house, deserted to-day, and where,
every time I returned from the country, Bridget, her husband and her
children gave me a pleasant reception. You devout fellows talk of
paradise. That house was a paradise to me. So that, even to-day, I
roamed into the neighborhood as an erring soul, my eyes fastened upon
that closed window where I had so often seen the dear faces of my sister
and her daughter smiling upon me when I knocked at their door--"
The expression on the face, the tone of the voice of the Franc-Taupin,
touched even the two bandits, hardened men though they were. Josephin
smothered a sob and proceeded:
"As I was saying a short while ago, I was roaming around the house when
I saw a monk approaching me. Oh, a good monk! So pale, so worn that I
had trouble to recognize him. But he, although he had met me only once,
recognized me by my port and by the plaster on my eye. He asked me
whether he could have a speedy word with my sister, or my
brother-in-law. 'My sister is dead, and my brother-in-law is in hiding,'
I answered the monk. He thereupon informed me that my niece was locked
up in the convent of the Augustinian sisters, where he, an Augustinian
monk, was her confessor; that, himself subjected several months to a
rigorous sequestration, he had only just succeeded in coming out, seeing
that the surveillance under which he was held had somewhat begun to
relax. Poor monk, he looked so wan, so emaciated, so feeble that he
could hardly keep himself on his feet. Uninformed concerning the
misfortunes of our family, his errand was to impart to the parents of my
niece what he knew about her. He ran the risk, in the event of his
outing being discovered, of being pursued and punished. I took him to
the place where my brother-in-law has found a safe retreat. On the way
thither I learned the following from the monk: My niece took the veil
to-day. According to the custom in such cases, she is to pass the night
alone in prayer in the oratory of the Virgin, which is separated from
the church of the convent by an enclosure of the cloister. Now,
attention, my lads, to the directions that the monk gave me. The walls
of the court-yard of the chapel run along St. Benoit's Alley. Just
before sunset, I went over the place and examined the walls. They are
not very high. We can easily scale them, while one of us will keep watch
on the outside."
"That shall be I!" broke in Grippe-Minaud nervously. "That post for me!
I have the eye of a lynx and the ear of a mole!"
"You shall be the watcher. Pichrocholle and I shall scale the wall. The
monk will be waiting for me near the chapel, ready to aid us should
anyone attempt to oppose my niece's abduction. I shall find her in the
oratory; she will follow me; we shall force open one of the garden
gates; and before dawn I shall have the daughter with her father, who is
in perfect safety. Immediately after, it will then be just early dawn,
we shall undertake the second expedition."
"The casket that we are to take?"
"Nothing easier. We shall go, all three, to Montaigu College, and shall
ask the porter for the number of Abbot Lefevre's chamber. He is the
thief of the casket."
"Horns of Moses!" cried Grippe-Minaud crossing himself. "An Abbot! To
raise our hands against another anointed of the Lord!"
"Two sacrileges in one day!" added the Mauvais-Garcon shaking his head
thoughtfully. "That weighs heavy on one's conscience."
"What about the letter of absolution!" interjected the Franc-Taupin
impatiently. "By the devil, whose frying pan you are afraid of, my
precious Catholics! Have you faith--yes or no?"
"That's so," responded Pichrocholle, "there is the schedule of
absolution. It covers us! Thanks to its beneficent virtue, one of us
shall be white as the inside of a snowball."
"Accordingly," the Franc-Taupin proceeded, "we shall ask for Abbot
Lefevre, under the pretext of some urgent matter that we must
communicate to him; we go up to his room; we knock at the door. Our man
will still be in bed. We throw ourselves upon him. You two bind and gag
him. I shall look for the casket in question--and shall find it. I am
certain of that. We then tie our Abbot to the bed, keeping him gagged
all the while, lest he scream and give the alarm. We close the door
after us--and we make tracks for the nearest place of safety."
"Oh, that would be the merest child's play, provided no priest were
concerned," broke in the Tire-Laine; "besides the abduction of your
niece, the violation of a sanctuary!"
"Yesterday I despatched my seventh man," put in the Mauvais-Garcon.
"Accordingly, my conscience is not very well at ease, because, to obtain
absolution for a murder, I would have to pay more than the murder
fetches me. But a lay murder is but a peccadillo beside a
sacrilege!--And then, if after the expedition that you propose to us,
the dice should fail to give me the apostolic schedule? What then! St.
Cadouin! I would dream only of the eternal flames ever after."
"That is your risk," again replied Josephin imperturbably. "The hour
approaches. Have you decided? Is it yes? Is it no? Must I look for
assistance elsewhere?"
"When will you deliver the letter to us?"
"Just as soon as my niece is safely with her father, and the casket is
in my hands. Agreed?"
"And if you deceive us? If after the expeditions have been successfully
carried out, you refuse to deliver the letter to us?"
"By the bowels of St. Quenet! And if, taking advantage of a moment when
I may not be on my guard, you should stab me to-night, that you may
seize the letter before rendering me the services which I expect of you?
The risks are equal, and compensate each other. Enough of words!"
"Oh, Josephin, such a suspicion against me--me your old comrade in
arms!"
"By the confession! To take us--us who have drunk out of the same pot,
for capable of so unworthy an action!"
"God's blood! Night draws near. We shall need some time to prepare for
the escalade," ejaculated the Franc-Taupin. "For the last time--yes or
no?"
The two bandits consulted each other for a moment with their eyes. At
the end of the consultation Pichrocholle reached out his hand to the
Franc-Taupin, saying:
"Upon the word of a Mauvais-Garcon, and by the salvation of my
soul--'tis done! You can count with me to the death."
"Upon the word of a Tire-Laine, and by the salvation of my soul--'tis
done! You may dispose of me."
"To work!" ordered the Franc-Taupin.
Josephin left the tavern of the Black Grape accompanied by the two
bandits.