THE PATTERER.
The new prisoner of whom we have spoken, who wore a blue cotton cap and
gray blouse, had attentively listened to, and energetically approved,
the plot which threatened the life of Germain. This man, of athletic
form, left the sitting-room with the other prisoners, without having
been remarked, and soon mingled with the different groups that pressed
into the court around the persons who distributed the beef, which they
brought in brass kettles, and the bread in huge baskets. Each prisoner
received a piece of boiled beef, which had served to make the soup for
the morning meal, with half a loaf of bread, superior in quality to that
given to soldiers. The prisoners who had money could buy wine at the
canteen, and go there to drink. Those who, like Nicholas, had received
victuals from out of doors, got up a feast to which they invited the
other prisoners. The guests of the widow's son were Barbillon, Skeleton,
and, upon the latter's recommendation, Pique-Vinaigre, in order to get
him in a good humor for telling stories. The ham, hard eggs, cheese, and
white bread, due to the forced liberality of Micou the receiver, were
spread out on one of the benches, and Skeleton prepared to do honor to
this repast, without feeling any inquietude concerning the murder he was
about to commit.
"Go and see if Pique-Vinaigre is never coming. While I am waiting to choke
Germain, I choke with hunger and thirst; do not forget to say to the Big
Cripple that Frank must pull the bailiff's hair, so that we may be rid of
them both."
"Be easy, if Frank does not pitch into the tipstaff, it will not be our
fault."
And Nicholas left the sitting-room. At this moment, Boulard entered the
yard smoking a cigar, his hands plunged into his long surtout of gray
moleskin, his cap drawn over his ears, his face smiling and gay; he spied
Nicholas, who on his side looked at Frank. The latter and the Cripple were
dining, seated on one of the benches in the court; they had not perceived
the bailiff, on whom their backs were turned. Faithful to the Skeleton's
recommendations, Nicholas, seeing with the corner of his eye Boulard coming
toward him, appeared not to remark him, and drew nearer to Frank and the
Cripple.
"Good-day!" said the bailiff to Nicholas.
"Ah! good-day, master, I did not see you; you come, as usual, to take a
little walk?"
"Yes, my boy, and to-day I have two reasons for doing it. I am going to
tell you why; but first take these cigars. Come, now, among comrades--the
devil! one must not stand on ceremony."
"Thank you, my gentleman. Why have you two reasons for walking?"
"You will understand it, my boy; I do not feel any appetite to-day. I said
to myself, 'Looking at these gay boys at their dinner, and seeing them make
use of their jaws, perhaps hunger will come.'"
"Not so bad. But look this way if you wish to see two babies who eat
lustily," said Nicholas, leading the bailiff by degrees near the bench of
Frank, whose back was turned; "just look at these two; your hunger will
come as if you were eating a whole bottle of pickles."
"Oh! let us see this phenomenon!" said Boulard.
"I say, Big Cripple!" cried Nicholas.
The Big Cripple and Frank quickly turned their heads. The bailiff was
stupefied, and stood with his mouth open on recognizing him whom he had
swindled.
Frank, throwing his bread and meat on the bench, with one bound jumped at
Boulard, whom he caught by the throat, crying:
"My money!"
"How? What? You strangle me. I--"
"My money!"
"My friend, listen to me!"
"My money! And yet is is too late, for it is your fault that I am here."
"But--I--but--"
"If I go to the hulks, mark me, it is your fault; for if I had that of
which you robbed me, I should not have been under the necessity of
stealing. I should have remained honest, as I wished to be. And you will be
acquitted perhaps--they will do nothing to you. But I will do something to
you. You shall bear my marks. Ah! you wear jewels, gold chains, and you
rob. There--there--have you enough? No--here, take some more!"
"Help, help!" cried the bailiff, rolling under the feet of Frank, who
struck him furiously.
The other prisoners, very indifferent to this squabble, made a ring round
the combatants, or, rather, round the beating and the beaten, for Boulard,
panting and much alarmed, made no resistance, but endeavored to parry, as
well as he could, the blows of his adversary. Happily, the overseer ran up,
on hearing the cries, and released the bailiff from his peril. Boulard
arose, pale and trembling, with one of his large eyes bruised, and, without
giving himself time to pick up his cap, cried, as he ran toward the wicket:
"Keeper--open for me; I do not wish to remain a moment longer--help!"
"And you, for having struck the gentleman, follow me to the governor," said
the keeper, taking Frank by the collar; "you will go to the blackhole two
days for this."
"I don't care; he has got his gruel."
"Mum!" whispered the Cripple to Frank, pretending to adjust his clothes,
"not a word of what they are going to do to the spy."
"Be easy; perhaps if I had been there, I should have defended him; for to
kill a man for that is hard; but blab! never."
"Will you come?" said the keeper.
"There we are rid of the bailiff and Frank now; hot work for the spy!" said
Nicholas.
As Frank left the court, Germain and Pique-Vinaigre entered. Germain was no
longer recognizable; his physiognomy, formerly so sad and cast down, was
radiant with joy; he carried his head erect, and cast around him a cheerful
and assured glance; he was beloved!--the horrors of the prison
disappeared from before his eyes. Pique-Yinaigre followed him with an
embarrassed air; at length, after having hesitated two or three times to
accost him, he made a great effort, and slightly touched the arm of Germain
before he had approached the group of prisoners, who, at a distance, were
examining him with sullen hatred. Their victim could not escape. In spite
of himself, Germain shuddered at the touch of Pique-Vinaigre; for the face
and rags of the ex-juggler did not speak much in his favor. But,
recollecting the advice of Rigolette, and, besides, too happy not to be
friendly, Germain stopped, and said kindly to Pique-Vinaigre,
"What do you wish?"
"To thank you."
"For what?"
"For what your pretty little visitor wishes to do for my sister."
"I do not understand you," said Germain, surprised.
"I am going to explain. Just now, in the office, I met the overseer, who
was on guard in the visitors' room."
"Ah, yes; a very good man."
"Ordinarily, the jailers do not agree with that description. But Roussel is
another bird; he deserves it. Just now he whispered in my ear,
'Pique-Vinaigre, my boy, do you know Germain well?' 'Yes; the butt of the
yard,' I answered." Then, interrupting himself, Pique-Vinaigre said to
Germain, "Pardon, excuse me, if I have called you a butt. Do not think of
it; wait for the end. 'Yes, then,' I answered, 'I know Germain, the butt of
the prison.' 'And yours also, perhaps, Pique-Vinaigre?' asked the keeper,
in a severe tone. 'I am too cowardly and too good-natured to allow myself
any kind of a butt black, white, or gray, and Germain still less than any
other for he does not appear wicked, and they are unjust toward him.'
'Well, Pique-Vinaigre, you have reason to be on Germain's side, for he has
been good to you.' 'To me? How so?' 'That is to say, not to you; but,
saving that, you owe him great gratitude,' answered old Roussel."
"Let us see; explain yourself a little more clearly," said Germain,
smiling.
"That is exactly what I said to the keeper: 'Do speak more clearly.' Then
he answered, 'It is not Germain, but his pretty little visitor, who has
been full of kindness for your sister. She overheard her relate to you her
misfortunes, and, as she was about leaving, the girl offered her any
assistance she could render.'"
"Good Rigolette!" cried Germain, affected. "She took good care not to
mention it."
"'Oh, then,' I answered the keeper, 'I am only a gander. You are right;
Germain has been good to me; for his visitor is, as may be said, himself,
and my sister Jeanne is myself and much more.'"
"Poor little Rigolette!" said Germain. "This does not surprise me; she has
a heart so generous and susceptible!"
"The keeper went on; 'I heard all this without pretending to listen. Now
you know, if you do not try to render a service to Germain; if you do not
warn him in case of any plot against him, you will be a finished scoundrel,
Pique-Vinaigre.' 'Keeper, I am a scoundrel,' commenced I, 'it is true; but
not a finished scoundrel. In fine, since Germain's visitor wished to do
some good to my poor Jeanne, who is a good and honest girl, I will do for
Germain what I can; unfortunately, that will be no great things.'"
"'Never mind, do what you can; I am also going to give you some good news
for Germain; I have just heard it.'"
"What is it, then?" asked Germain.
"'To-morrow there will be a separate cell vacant,' the keeper told me to
inform you."
"Can it be true? Oh, what happiness!" cried Germain. "The good man was
right; it is good news you tell me."
"I think so; for your place is not with rough-scuff like us, Germain." Then
he added hastily, and in a low tone, as he pretended to stoop for
something, "Germain, look at the prisoners, how they stare at us; they are
astonished to see us talking together. I leave you; be on your guard. If
they pick a quarrel, do not answer; they only want a pretext to engage you
in a dispute, and beat you. Barbillon is to begin the dispute--look out for
him; I will try to turn them from this notion." And Pique-Vinaigre lifted
up his head as if he had found what he pretended to look for. Only informed
of the conspiracy of the morning, which was to provoke a quarrel in which
Germain would be roughly handled, in order to force the governor to change
his ward, not only was Pique-Vinaigre ignorant of the murderous project,
but he was also ignorant that they counted on his story of Gringalet to
deceive and distract the attention of the keeper.
"Come along, lazybones!" said Nicholas to Pique-Vinaigre, going to meet
him; "leave your ration of flesh there; we have a merry-making and
feasting. I invite you."
"Whereabouts? To the Panier-Fleuri? to the Petit Ramponneau?"
"No, in the hall; the table is set on a bench. We have some ham, eggs, and
cheese--my treat."
"That suits me; but it is a pity to lose my ration, and still more that my
sister cannot profit by it. Neither she nor her children often see meat,
except at the butcher's door."
"Come, come quick, Skeleton is making a beast of himself; he is capable of
devouring the whole with Barbillon."
Nicholas and Pique-Vinaigre entered the hall; seated astride on the end of
the bench where the feast was spread, Skeleton swore and cursed while
waiting for the giver of the banquet.
"Here you are at last, snail, laggard!" cried the bandit, at the sight of
Pique-Vinaigre; "what have you been doing then?"
"He was chatting with Germain," said Nicholas, carving the ham.
"Oh! talking with Germain?" said Skeleton, looking attentively at
Pique-Vinaigre, without pausing in his mastication.
"Yes!" answered the patterer. "Oh! here is another who never invented
bootjacks and hard eggs (I say eggs, because I adore them). Isn't he a
fool! this Germain! I used to think that he was a spy, but he is too much
of a flat for that!"
"Oh! you think so?" said Skeleton, exchanging a rapid and significant
glance with Nicholas and Barbillon.
"I am as sure of it as that I see ham! And, then, how the devil would you
have him spy?--he is always alone; he speaks to no one, and no one speaks
to him; he runs away from us as if we had the cholera. Besides, he will not
spy for a long time; he is going to be boxed up alone."
"He!" cried Skeleton; "when?"
"To-morrow morning there will be a cell vacant."
"You see we must kill him at once. He does not sleep in my ward; to-morrow
will be too late. To-day we have only until four o'clock, and now it is
almost three," whispered Skeleton to Nicholas, while Pique-Vinaigre talked
with Barbillon.
"All the same," answered Nicholas aloud, pretending to answer an
observation of Skeleton, "Germain looks as if he despises us."
"On the contrary, my children," answered Pique-Vinaigre, "you intimidate
this young man. He looks upon himself, in comparison with you, as the least
of the least. Just now, what do you think he said?"
"How should I know?"
"He said to me, 'You are very happy, Pique-Vinaigre, to dare to speak with
the famous Skeleton (he used the word famous) as an equal and a companion.'
I am dying to speak to him; but he produces an effect upon me so
respectful--so respectful--that, should I see the chief of police in flesh,
and bones, and uniform, I could not be more overcome."
"He told you that?" replied Skeleton, feigning to believe him, and to be
flattered at the admiration he excited in Germain.
"As true as that you are the greatest magsman on the earth, he told me so."
"Then it is different," answered Skeleton; "I must make it up with him.
Barbillon had a mind to pick a quarrel, but he, too, will do well to let
him alone."
"He will do better," cried Pique-Vinaigre, persuaded that he had turned
away the danger with which Germain was threatened. "He will do better, for
this poor fellow won't dispute; he is one of my kind, bold as a hare."
"Yes, it is a pity," said Skeleton; "we reckoned on this quarrel to amuse
us after dinner, the time appears so long."
"Yes. What shall we do then?" asked Nicholas.
"Since it is so, let Pique-Vinaigre tell us a story. I will not seek a
quarrel with Germain," said Barbillon.
"Agreed, agreed!" cried the story-teller. "That is one condition; but there
is another, and without both I tell no stories."
"Come, what is your other condition?"
"It is, that the honorable society which is poisoned with capitalists,"
said Pique-Vinaigre, assuming his mountebank twang, "will make for me the
trifle of a contribution of twenty sous. Twenty sous, ladies and gents, to
hear the famous Pique-Vinaigre, who has had the honor to perform before the
most renowned robbers, before the most famous rogues, of France and
Navarre, and who is immediately expected at Brest and at Toulon, where he
goes by order of the government. Twenty sous! A mere nothing, gents."
"Come, you shall have twenty sous when you have told your story."
"After? No; before!" cried Pique-Vinaigre.
"I say, do you think us capable of cheating you out of twenty sous?" said
Skeleton, with a displeased air.
"Not at all," answered Pique-Vinaigre; "I honor the family with my
confidence, and it is to spare its purse that I ask twenty sous in
advance."
"On your word of honor?"
"Yes, gents; for after my tale is finished, you will be so satisfied that
it is no longer twenty sous, but twenty francs--a hundred francs that you
will force me to take! I know, myself, I should have the _meanness_ to
accept the offering; so, you see, that for economy's sake, you will do
better to give me twenty sous in advance."
"Oh! you are not wanting in soft-sawder."
"I have nothing but my tongue; I must use it; and, then, the point of the
matter is that my sister and her children are in Queer Street, and twenty
sous is an out-and-out _friendly call_."
"Why does she not toddle out on the prigging lay; and her kids also, if
they are old enough?" said Nicholas.
"Do not speak of it; it wounds me, it dishonors me. I am too good."
"You had better say too stupid, since you encourage her."
"It is true, I encourage her in the vice of honesty. But she is only good
for that trade--she makes me pity her. Come, is it agreed? I will relate
to you my famous history of 'Gringalet', but I must have my twenty sous;
and Barbillon will not seek a quarrel with that softy, Germain."
"You shall have your twenty sous, and Barbillon will not pick a quarrel
with Germain," said Skeleton.
"Then open your ears, for you are going to hear something choice. But here
is the rain, which sends in the audience; there will be no need to go after
them."
In fact, the rain began to fall, the prisoners left the court, and came to
take refuge in the hall, accompanied by a keeper. We have already said this
hall was a long paved room, lighted by windows looking out on the court; in
the center was placed the stove, near which were Skeleton, Barbillon,
Nicholas, and Pique-Vinaigre. At a nod from the provost, Big Cripple joined
the group. Germain entered among the last, absorbed in delightful thoughts.
He went mechanically to seat himself on the ledge of the farthest window in
the room, a place he habitually occupied, which no one disputed; for it was
far from the stove, around which the prisoners clustered. We have said that
only a dozen of the prisoners had been informed at first of the intended
murder of Germain. But, once divulged, this project counted as many
adherents as there were prisoners; these wretches, in their blind cruelty,
regarded this frightful plot as a legitimate vengeance, and saw in it a
certain guarantee against future denunciations.
Germain, Pique-Vinaigre, and the keeper were alone ignorant of what was
about to take place. The general attention was divided between the
executioner, the victim, and the patterer, who was about innocently to
deprive Germain of the only succor which he had to depend upon; for it was
almost certain that the keeper, seeing the prisoners attentive to the story
of Pique-Vinaigre, would believe his presence useless, and profit by this
moment of calm to go and take his repast. When all the prisoners had
entered, Skeleton said to the keeper:
"I say, old man, Pique-Vinaigre has a good idea; he is going to tell us his
story of 'Gringalet.' The weather is so bad it is not fit to turn a
constable out of doors; we are going to wait here quietly for the time to
turn in."
"True enough, when he talks, you keep yourselves quiet. At least, there is
no need of being behind your backs."
"Yes," replied Skeleton; "but Pique-Vinaigre charges high for telling a
story; he wants twenty sous."
"Yes, the trifle of twenty sous; and then it is for nothing," cried
Pique-Vinaigre. "Yes, nothing; for one should not keep a red in his pocket,
and thus deprive himself of the pleasure of hearing the adventures of poor
little Gringalet, of the terrible Cut-in-half, and the wicked Gargousse; it
is enough to break one's heart, to make your hair stand on end. Now, gents,
who is it that cannot spare the bagatelle of four coppers, to have his
heart broken and his hair stand on end?"
"I give two sous!" said Skeleton; and he threw his penny toward
Pique-Vinaigre. "Shall the gang be stingy for such an entertainment?" he
added, looking at his accomplices with a significant air. Several sous were
thrown, from one side and the other, to the great joy of Pique-Vinaigre,
who thought of his sister as he made his collection. "Eight, nine, eleven,
twelve, thirteen!" he cried, picking up his money. "Come, rich folks,
capitalists and other bankers, one more little effort; you cannot remain at
thirteen, it is an unlucky number. Only seven sous wanting--a paltry seven
sous. How! shall it be said the Lions' Den cannot raise seven sous more--
seven miserable sous! O! you will lead me to think that you have been
placed here unjustly, or that you have been very unlucky."
The piercing voice and the witticisms of Pique-Vinaigre had roused Germain
from his reverie; as much to follow the advice of Rigolette, to make
himself popular, as to make a slight donation to this poor fellow, who had
shown some desire to be useful to him, he arose and threw a piece of ten
sous at the speaker's feet, who cried, showing to the crowd the generous
donor: "Ten sous, gents! you see I spoke of capitalists; honor to the
banker, who tries to be agreeable to the society. Yes, gents! for it is to
him you will owe the greater part of Gringalet, and you will thank him for
it. As to the three sous surplus caused by his donation, I will deserve
them by imitating the voices of my personages, instead of speaking in my
ordinary manner! This shall be another delight that you will owe to this
rich capitalist whom you must adore."
"Come, don't gammon so much, but begin," said Skeleton.
"A moment," said Pique-Vinaigre; "it is but just that this capitalist, who
has given me ten sous, should have the best place, except our provost, who
must choose first." This proposition answered the purpose of Skeleton so
well that he cried:
"It is true, after me he should be the best seated." And the bandit again
cast a look of intelligence at the prisoners.
"Yes, yes, let him approach," they cried.
"Let him take the front seat."
"You see, young man, your liberality is recompensed; the honorable society
recognizes that you have the right to the first seat," said Pique-Vinaigre
to Germain.
Believing that his liberality had really disposed his odious companions in
his favor, enchanted thus to follow the advice of Rigolette, Germain, in
spite of his repugnance, left his seat, and approached.
Pique-Vinaigre, aided by Nicholas and Barbillon, having arranged around the
stove the four or five benches, said with emphasis,
"Here are orchestra stalls! honor to whom honor is due; in the first place
the capitalist. Now let those who have paid seat themselves on the
benches," added Pique-Vinaigre, gayly, firmly believing that Germain had,
thanks to him, no more danger to apprehend. "And those who have not cashed
up," he added, "will sit on the ground or stand up, as they choose."
Let us glance at the arrangements as now completed.
Pique-Vinaigre, standing near the stove, was getting ready to commence his
story. Near him, Skeleton is also standing, ready to spring on Germain the
moment the keeper should leave the hall. Some distance from Germain,
Nicholas, Barbillon, Cardillac, and some other prisoners, among whom was
seen the man in the blue cotton cap and gray blouse, occupied the back
benches. The larger number of the prisoners grouped here and there, some
seated on the ground, others standing, and leaning against the walls,
composed the background of this picture, lighted, after the manner of
Rembrandt, by the three lateral windows, which cast a vivid light and deep
shade on these figures, so differently characterized and so strongly
marked.
The keeper who, without knowing it, was, by his departure, to give the
signal for the murder of Germain, stood near the half-opened door.
"All ready!" said Pique-Vinaigre to Skeleton.
"Silence in the band" answered the latter, half-turning round; then,
addressing Pique-Vinaigre, "Now fire away! we listen." A profound silence
reigned in the sitting-room.