THE SICK-NURSE.
Snatched by the Chourineur from a certain death, and removed to the
house in the Allée des Veuves which had been reconnoitred by the
Chouette, previously to the attempt on it by the Schoolmaster, Rodolph
was placed in bed, in a comfortably furnished apartment; a cheerful fire
was burning on the hearth. A lamp, placed on a neighbouring table,
diffused a strong, clear light; while the bed of Rodolph, shaded by
thick curtains of green damask, remained protected from the glare, and
in the shadow of its deep recess.
A negro of middle stature, with white hair and eyebrows, wearing an
orange and green riband at the buttonhole of his blue coat, sat by the
bedside, holding in his right hand a seconds' watch, which he appeared
to consult while counting with his left the beating of Rodolph's pulse.
The expression of the negro's countenance was at once sad and pensive,
and he continued from time to time to gaze on the sleeping man with the
most tender solicitude.
The Chourineur, clad in rags and soiled with mud, stood motionless, with
folded arms, at the foot of the bed; his red beard was long and matted,
in disorder; his thick, bushy hair was tangled with mud and wet, which
still dripped from it; while his hard, bronzed features were marked by
the most profound pity for the patient: hardly venturing to breathe lest
the heaving of his huge chest should disturb the invalid, he awaited
with the most intense anxiety the result of the doctor's observations
on the sick man's state; then, as though to while away the fearful
apprehension of an unfavourable opinion, he continued to deliver his
thoughts aloud, after the following manner:
"Who would think, now, to see him lying there so helpless, he could ever
have been the man to give me such a precious drubbing as I got from him?
I dare say, though, he will soon be up again, well and strong as ever.
Don't you think so, M. le Docteur? Faith, I only wish he could drum
himself well upon my back; I'd lend it him as long as he liked. But,
perhaps, that would shake him too much, and overfatigue him; would it,
sir?" addressing the negro, whose only reply was an impatient wave of
the hand.
The Chourineur was instantly silent.
"The draught!" said the doctor.
The Chourineur, who had respectfully left his nailed shoes at the door,
at these words arose, and walked towards the table indicated by the
negro's finger; going on the very top of his toes, drawing up his legs,
extending his arms, and swelling out his back and shoulders, in a manner
so ludicrous as, under other circumstances, would have been highly
diverting. The poor fellow seemed endeavouring to collect his whole
weight, so that no portion of it should touch the floor; which, in spite
of his energetic efforts to prevent it, groaned beneath his ponderous
limbs as they moved towards the desired spot. Unfortunately, between his
overanxiety to acquit himself well in his important mission, and his
fear of dropping the delicate phial he was bringing so overcarefully, he
grasped the slight neck so tightly in his huge hand that it shivered to
atoms, and the precious liquid was expended on the carpet.
At the sight of this unfortunate mischance the Chourineur remained in
mute astonishment, one of his huge legs in the air, his toes nervously
contracted, and looking with a stupefied air alternately from the
doctor to the fragments of the bottle, and from that to the morsel his
thumb and finger were yet tightly holding.
"Awkward devil!" exclaimed the negro, impatiently.
"Yes, that I am!" responded the Chourineur, as though grateful for the
sound of a voice to break the frightful bewilderment of his ideas.
"Ah!" cried the Æsculapius, observing the table attentively, "happily
you took the wrong phial,--I wanted the other one."
"What, that little one with the red stuff?" inquired the unlucky
sick-nurse, in a low and humble tone.
"Of course I mean that; why, there is no other left."
The Chourineur, turning quickly around upon his heels, after his old
military fashion, crushed the fragments of glass which lay on the carpet
beneath his feet. More delicate ones might have suffered severely from
the circumstance, but the _ex-débardeur_ had a pair of natural sandals,
hard as the hoofs of a horse.
"Have a care!" cried the physician. "You will hurt yourself!"
To this caution the Chourineur paid no attention, but seemed wholly
absorbed in so discharging his new mission as should effectually destroy
all recollection of his late clumsiness. It was really beautiful to
behold the scrupulous delicacy and lightness of touch with which,
spreading out his two first fingers, he seized the fragile crystal;
avoiding all use of the unlucky thumb whose undue pressure, he rightly
conceived, had brought about his previous accident, he kept so widely
stretched from his forefinger that a butterfly might have passed
between, with outspread wings, without losing one atom of its golden
plumage. The black doctor trembled lest all this caution should lead to
a second misadventure, but, happily, the phial reached its destination
in safety. As the Chourineur approached the bed, he again smashed
beneath his tread some of the fallen relics of the former potion.
"The deuce take you, man! Do you want to _maim_ yourself for life?"
"_Lame_ myself?" asked the eager nurse.
"Why, yes; you keep walking upon glass as though you were trying for
it."
"Oh, bless you! never mind that; the soles of my feet are hard as iron;
must be something sharper than glass could hurt them."
"A teaspoon--" said the doctor.
The Chourineur recommenced his _évolutions sylphidiques_, and returned
with the article required.
After having swallowed a few spoonfuls of the mixture, Rodolph began to
stir in his bed, and faintly moved his hands.
"Good! good! he is recovering from his stupor," said the doctor,
speaking to himself. "That bleeding has relieved him; he is now out of
danger."
"Saved? Bravo! Vive la Charte!" exclaimed the Chourineur, in the full
burst of his joy.
"Hold your tongue! and pray be quiet!" said the negro, in a tone of
command.
"To be sure I will, M. le Médécin."
"His pulse is becoming regular--very well, indeed--excellent--"
"And that poor friend of M. Rodolph's,--body and bones of me!--when he
comes to know that--But, then, luckily--"
"Silence! I say."
"Certainly, M. le Docteur."
"And sit down."
"But, M. le--"
"Sit down, I tell you! You disturb me, twisting and fidgeting about in
that manner,--you distract my attention. Come, sit down at once, and
keep still."
"But, doctor, don't you perceive I am as dirty as a pile of floating
wood just going to be unloaded?--all slime and wet, you see. I should
spoil the furniture."
"Then sit down on the ground."
"I should soil the carpet."
"Do what you like, but, for heaven's sake, be quiet!" said the doctor,
in a tone of impatience; then, throwing himself into an armchair, he
leaned his head upon his clasped hands, and appeared lost in deep
reflection.
After a moment of profound meditation, the Chourineur, less from any
need he felt for repose than in obedience to the doctor's commands, took
a chair with the utmost precaution, turned it upside down with an air of
intense self-satisfaction at having at length devised a plan to act in
strict conformity with the orders received, and yet avoid all risk of
soiling the silken cushion; having laid the back on the ground, he
proceeded, after all manner of delicate arrangements, to take his seat
on the outer rails; but, unhappily, the Chourineur was entirely ignorant
of the laws of the lever and the equilibrium of bodies, the chair
overbalanced, and the luckless individual seated thereon, in
endeavouring to save himself from falling, by an involuntary movement
caught hold of a small stand, on which was a tray containing some
tea-things.
At the formidable noise caused by so many falling articles clattering
upon the head of the unfortunate cause of all this discord and havoc,
the doctor sprung from his seat, while Rodolph, awaking with a start,
raised himself on his elbow, looked about him with an anxious and
perturbed glance, then, passing his hand over his brows, as though
trying to arrange his ideas, he inquired:
"Where is Murphy?"
"Your royal highness need be under no apprehensions on his account,"
answered the negro, respectfully; "there is every hope of his recovery."
"Recovery! He is, then, wounded?"
"Unhappily, my lord, he is."
"Where is he? Let me see him!" And Rodolph endeavoured to rise, but fell
back again, overcome by weakness and the intense pain he felt from his
many and severe contusions. "Since I cannot walk," cried he, at length,
"let me be instantly carried to Murphy,--this moment!"
"My lord, he sleeps at present; it would be highly dangerous, at this
particular juncture, to expose him to the slightest agitation."
"You are deceiving me, and he is dead! He has been murdered! And I--I am
the wretched cause of it!" cried Rodolph, in a tone of agony, raising
his clasped hands towards heaven.
"My lord knows that his servant is incapable of a falsehood. I assert by
my honour, that, although severely wounded, Murphy lives, and that his
chance of recovery is all but certain."
"You say that but to prepare me for more disastrous tidings; he lies,
doubtless, wounded past all hope; and he, my faithful friend, will die!"
"My lord--"
"Yes, you are seeking to deceive me till all is over. But I will see
him,--I will judge for myself; the sight of a friend cannot be hurtful.
Let me be instantly removed to his chamber."
"Once more, my lord, I pledge my solemn assurance, that, barring chances
not likely to occur, Murphy will soon be convalescent."
"My dear David, may I indeed believe you?"
"You may, indeed, my lord."
"Hear me. You know the high opinion I entertain of your ability and
knowledge, and that, from the hour in which you were attached to my
household, you have possessed my most unbounded confidence,--never, for
one instant, have I doubted your great skill and perfect acquaintance
with your profession; but I conjure you, if a consultation be
necessary--"
"My lord, that would have been my first thought, had I seen the
slightest reason for such a step; but, up to the present moment, it
would be both useless and unnecessary. And, besides, I should be
somewhat tenacious of introducing strangers into the house until I knew
whether your orders of yesterday--"
"But how has all this happened?" said Rodolph, interrupting the black.
"Who saved me from drowning in that horrid cellar? I have a confused
recollection of having heard the Chourineur's voice there; was I
mistaken?"
"Not at all mistaken, my lord. But let the brave fellow, to whom all
praise is due, relate the affair in which he was the principal actor
himself."
"Where is he? Where is he?"
The doctor looked about for the recently elected sick-nurse, and at
length found him, thoroughly silenced and shamed by his late tumble,
ensconced behind the curtains of the bed.
"Here he is," said the doctor; "he looks somewhat shamefaced."
"Come forward, my brave fellow!" said Rodolph, extending his hand to his
preserver.
The confusion of the poor Chourineur was still further increased from
having, when behind his curtain, heard the black doctor address Rodolph
continually as "my lord," or "your royal highness."
"Approach, my friend,--my deliverer!" said Rodolph, "and give me your
hand."
"I beg pardon, sir,--I mean, my lord,--no, highness,--no--"
"Call me M. Rodolph, as you used to do; I like it better."
"And so do I,--it comes so much easier to one. But be so good as to
excuse my hand; I have done so much work lately, that--"
"Your hand, I tell you,--your hand!"
Overcome by this kind and persevering command, the Chourineur timidly
extended his black and horny palm, which Rodolph warmly shook.
"Now, then, sit down, and tell me all about it,--how you discovered the
cellar. But I think I can guess. The Schoolmaster?"
"We have him in safety," said the black doctor.
"Yes, he and the Chouette, tied together like two rolls of tobacco. A
pair of pretty creatures they look, as ever you would wish to see, and,
I doubt not, sick enough of each other's company by this time."
"And my poor Murphy! What a selfish wretch must I be to think only of
myself! Where is he wounded, David?"
"In the right side, my lord; but, fortunately, towards the lower false
rib."
"Oh, I must have a deep and terrible revenge for this! David, I depend
upon your assistance."
"My lord knows full well that I am wholly devoted to him, both body and
soul," replied the negro, coldly.
"But how, my noble fellow, were you able to arrive here in time?" said
Rodolph to the Chourineur.
"Why, if you please, my lor--no, sir--highness--Rodolph--I had better
begin by the beginning--"
"Quite right. I am listening,--go on. But mind, you are only to call me
M. Rodolph."
"Very well. You know that last night you told me, after you returned
from the country, where you had gone with poor Goualeuse, 'Try and find
the Schoolmaster in the Cité; tell him you know of a capital "put-up,"
that you have refused to join it, but that if he will take your place he
has only to be to-morrow (that's to-day) at the barrier of Bercy, at the
Panier-Fleuri, and there he will see the man who has "made the plant"
(_qui a nourri le poupard_).'"
"Well."
"On leaving you, I pushed on briskly for the Cité. I goes to the
ogress's,--no Schoolmaster; then to the Rue Saint Eloi; on to the Rue
aux Fêves; then to the Rue de la Vieille Draperie,--couldn't find my
man. At last I stumbled upon him and that old devil's kin, Chouette, in
the front of Notre Dame, at the shop of a tailor, who is a 'fence'[8]
and thief; they were 'sporting the blunt' which they had prigged from
the tall gentleman in black, who wanted to do something to you; they
bought themselves some toggery. The Chouette bargained for a red
shawl,--an old monster! I told my tale to the Schoolmaster and he
snapped at it, and said he would be at the rendezvous accordingly. So
far so good. This morning, according to your orders, I ran here to bring
you the answer. You said to me, 'My lad, return to-morrow before
daybreak; you must pass the day in the house, and in the evening you
will see something which will be worth seeing.' You did not let out more
than that, but I was 'fly,' and said to myself, 'This is a "dodge" to
catch the Schoolmaster to-morrow, by laying a right bait for him. He is
a----scoundrel; he murdered the cattle-dealer, and, as they say, another
person besides, in the Rue du Roule. I see all about it--'"
[8] Receiver of stolen goods.
"My mistake was not to have told you all, my good fellow; then this
horrible result would not have occurred."
"That was your affair, M. Rodolph; all that concerned me was to serve
you; for, truth to say, I don't know how or why, but, as I have told you
before, I feel as if I were your bulldog. But that's enough. I said,
then, 'M. Rodolph pays me for my time, so my time is his, and I will
employ it for him.' Then an idea strikes me: the Schoolmaster is
cunning, he may suspect a trap. M. Rodolph will propose to him the job
for to-morrow, it is true, but the 'downy cove' is likely enough to come
to-day and lurk about, and reconnoitre the ground, and if he is
suspicious of M. Rodolph he will bring some other 'cracksman' (robber)
with him, and do the trick on his own account. To prevent this, I said
to myself, 'I must go and plant myself somewhere where I may get a view
of the walls, the garden-gate,--there is no other entrance. If I find a
snug corner, as it rains, I will remain there all day, perhaps all
night, and to-morrow morning I shall be all right and ready to go to M.
Rodolph's.' So I goes to the Allée des Veuves to place myself, and what
should I see but a small tavern, not ten paces from your door! I entered
and took my seat near the window, in a room on the ground floor. I
called for a quart of drink and a quart of nuts, saying I expected some
friends,--a humpbacked man and a tall woman. I chose them because it
would appear more natural. I was very comfortably seated, and kept my
eye on the door. It rained cats and dogs; no one passed; night came
on--"
"But," interrupted Rodolph, "why did you not go at once to my house?"
"You told me to come the next day morning, M. Rodolph, and I didn't dare
return there sooner; I should have looked like an intruder,--a sneak
(_brosseur_), as the troopers call it. You understand? Well, there I was
at the window of the wine-shop, cracking my nuts and drinking my liquor,
when, through the fog, I saw the Chouette approach, accompanied by Bras
Rouge's brat, little Tortillard. 'Ah, ah!' said I to myself, 'now the
farce begins!' Well, the little hound of a child hid himself in one of
the ditches of the Allée, and was evidently on the lookout. As for
that----, the Chouette, she takes off her bonnet, puts it into her
pocket, and rings the gate-bell. Our poor friend, M. Murphy, opens the
door, and the one-eyed mother of mischief tosses up her arms and makes
her way into the garden. I could have kicked myself for not being able
to make out what the Chouette was up to. At last out she comes, puts on
her bonnet, says two words to Tortillard, who returns to his hole, and
then 'cuts her stick.' I say to myself, 'Caution! no blunder now!
Tortillard has come with the Chouette; then the Schoolmaster and M.
Rodolph are at Bras Rouge's. The Chouette has come out to reconnoitre
about the house; then, sure as a gun, they'll "try it on" this very
night! If they do, M. Rodolph, who believes they will not go to work
till to-morrow, is quite over-reached; and if he is over-reached, I
ought to go to Bras Rouge's and see for him. True; but then suppose that
the Schoolmaster arrives in the meantime,--that's to be thought of.
Suppose I go to the house and see M. Murphy,--mind your eye! that urchin
Tortillard is near the door; he will hear me ring the bell, see me, and
give the word to the Chouette; and if she returns, that will spoil all;
and the more particularly as perhaps M. Rodolph has, after all, made his
arrangements for this evening.' Confound it! these yes and no bothered
my brain tremendously. I was quite bewildered, and saw nothing clear
before me. I didn't know what to do for the best, so I said, 'I'll walk
out, and perhaps the clear air will brighten my thoughts a bit.' I went
out, and the open air cleared my brain; so I took off my blouse and my
neck-handkerchief, I went to the ditch where Tortillard lay, and taking
the young devil's kin by the cuff of his neck,--how he did wriggle, and
twist, and scuffle, and scratch!--I put him into my blouse, tying up one
end with the sleeves and the bottom tightly with my cravat. He could
breathe very well. Well, then I took the bundle under my arm, and
passing a low, damp garden, surrounded by a little wall, I threw the
brat Tortillard into the midst of a cabbage-bed. He squeaked like a
sucking-pig, but nobody could hear him two steps off. I cut off; it was
time. I climbed up one of the high trees in the Allée, just in front of
your door, and over the ditch in which Tortillard had been stationed.
Ten minutes afterwards I heard footsteps; it was raining still, and the
night was very dark. I listened,--it was the Chouette. 'Tortillard!
Tortillard!' says she, in a low voice. 'It rains, and the little brat is
tired of waiting,' said the Schoolmaster, swearing; 'if I catch him,
I'll skin him alive!' '_Fourline_, take care!' replied the Chouette.
'Perhaps he has gone to warn us of something that has happened,--maybe,
some trap for us. The young fellow would not make the attempt till ten
o'clock.' 'That's the very reason,' replies the Schoolmaster; 'it is now
only seven o'clock. You saw the money,--nothing venture, nothing have.
Give me the ripping chisel and the jemmy--'"
"What instruments are they?" asked Rodolph.
"They came from Bras Rouge's. Oh, he has a well-furnished house! In a
crack the door is opened. 'Stay where you are,' said the Schoolmaster to
the Chouette; 'keep a bright lookout, and give me the signal if you hear
anything.' 'Put your "pinking-iron" in the buttonhole of your waistcoat,
that you may have it handy,' said the old hag. The Schoolmaster entered
the garden, and I instantly, coming down from the tree, fell on the
Chouette. I silenced her with two blows of my fist,--my new style,--and
she fell without a word. I ran into the garden, but, thunder and
lightning, M. Rodolph! it was too late--"
"Poor Murphy!"
"He was struggling on the ground with the Schoolmaster at the entrance,
and, although wounded, he held his voice and made no cry for help.
Excellent man! he is like a good dog, bites, but doesn't bark. Well, I
went bang, heads or tails, at it, hitting the Schoolmaster on the
shoulder, which was the only place I could at the moment touch. 'Vive la
Charte! it's I!' 'The Chourineur!' shouts M. Murphy. 'Ah, villain! where
do you come from?' cries out the Schoolmaster, quite off his guard at
that. 'What's that to you?' says I, fixing one of his legs between my
knees, and grasping his 'fin' with my other hand; it was that in which
he held his dagger. 'And M. Rodolph?' asked M. Murphy of me, whilst
doing all in his power to aid me--"
"Worthy, kind-hearted creature!" murmured Rodolph, in a tone of deep
distress.
"'I know nothing of him,' says I; 'this scoundrel, perhaps, has killed
him.' And then I went with redoubled strength at the Schoolmaster, who
tried to stick me with his larding-pin; but I lay with my breast on his
arm, and so he only had his fist at liberty. 'You are, then, quite
alone?' says I to M. Murphy, whilst we still struggled desperately with
the Schoolmaster. 'There are people close at hand,' he replied; 'but
they did not hear me cry out.' 'Is it far off?' 'They would be here in
ten minutes.' 'Let us call out for help; there are passers-by who will
come and help us.' 'No, as we have got him we must hold him here. But I
am growing weak, I am wounded.' 'Thunder and lightning! then run and get
assistance, if you have strength left; I will try and hold him.' M.
Murphy then disengaged himself, and I was alone with the Schoolmaster. I
don't want to brag, but, by Jove! these were moments when I was not
having a holiday. We were half on the ground, half on the bottom step of
the flight. I had my arms round the neck of the villain, my cheek
against his cheek; and he was puffing like a bull, I heard his teeth
grind. It was dark, it rained pouring; the lamp left in the passage
lighted us a little. I had twisted one of my legs around his, but, in
spite of that, his loins were so powerful that he moved himself and me
on to the bare ground. He tried to bite me, but couldn't; I never felt
so strong. Thunder! my heart beat, but it was in the right place. I
said, 'I am like a man who is grappling with a mad dog, to prevent him
from fastening on some passer-by.' 'Let me go, and I will do you no
harm,' said the Schoolmaster, in an exhausted voice. 'What! a coward?'
says I to him. 'So, then, your pluck is in your strength? So you
wouldn't have stabbed the cattle-dealer at Poissy, and robbed him, if he
had only been as strong as me, eh?' 'No,' says he; 'but I will kill you
as I did him.' And saying that, he made so violent a heave, and gave so
powerful a jerk with his legs at the same time, that he half threw me
over; if I had not kept a tight hold of his wrist which held the
stiletto, I was done for. At this moment my left hand was seized with
the cramp, and I was compelled to loosen my hold; that nearly spoiled
all, and I said to myself, 'I am now undermost and he at top,--he'll
kill me. Never mind, I had rather be in my place than his; M. Rodolph
said that I had heart and honour.' I felt it was all over with me, and
at that moment I saw the Chouette standing close by us, with her glaring
eye and red shawl. Thunder and lightning! I thought I had the nightmare.
'Finette,' cries the Schoolmaster, 'I have let fall the knife; pick it
up, there, there, under him, and strike him home, in the back, between
the shoulders; quick! quick!' 'Only wait, only wait till I find it, till
I see it, _fourline_.' And then the cursed Chouette turned and poked
about us, like an old bird of mischief as she was. At last she found the
dagger and sprung towards it, but as I was flat on my belly I gave her a
kick in the stomach, which sent her neck over crop; she got up, and in a
desperate rage. I could do no more; I still held on and struggled with
the Schoolmaster, but he kept giving me such dreadful blows on my jaw
that I was about to let go my hold, when I saw three or four armed men
who came down the stairs, and M. Murphy, pale as ashes, and with
difficulty supporting himself with the assistance of the doctor here.
They seized hold of the Schoolmaster and the Chouette, and soon bound
them hand and foot. That was not all, I still wanted M. Rodolph. I
sprang at the Chouette; remembering the tooth of the poor dear
Goualeuse, I grasped her arm and twisted it, saying, 'Where is M.
Rodolph?' She bore it well, and silently. I took a second turn, and then
she screeched out, 'At Bras Rouge's, in the vault at the Bleeding
Heart!' All right! As I went, I meant to take Tortillard from his
cabbage-bed, as it was on my road. I looked for him, but only found my
blouse,--he had gnawed his way out with his teeth. I reached the
Bleeding Heart, and I laid hold of Bras Rouge. 'Where is the young man
who came here this evening with the Schoolmaster?' 'Don't squeeze so
hard, and I'll tell you. They wanted to play him a trick and shut him up
in my cellar; we'll go now and let him out.' We went down, but there was
no one to be seen. 'He must have gone out whilst my back was turned,'
says Bras Rouge; 'you see plain enough he is not here.' I was going away
sad enough, when, by the light of the lantern, I saw at the bottom of
the cellar another door. I ran towards it and opened the door, and had,
as it were, a pail of water thrown at me. I saw your two poor arms in
the air. I fished you out and brought you here on my back, as there was
nobody at hand to get a coach. That's all my tale, M. Rodolph; and I may
say, without bragging, that I am satisfied with myself."
"My man, I owe my life to you; it is a heavy debt, but be assured I will
pay it. David, will you go and learn how Murphy is," added Rodolph, "and
return again instantly?"
The black went out.
"Where is the Schoolmaster, my good fellow?"
"In another room, with the Chouette. You will send for the police, M.
Rodolph?"
"No."
"You surely will not let him go! Ah, M. Rodolph, none of that
nonsensical generosity! I say again, he is a mad dog,--let the
passengers look out!"
"He will never bite again, be assured."
"Then you are going to shut him up somewhere?"
"No; in half an hour he will leave this house."
"The Schoolmaster?"
"Yes."
"Without _gens-d'armes_?"
"Yes."
"_He_ will go out from here, and free?"
"Free."
"And quite alone?"
"Quite alone."
"But he will go--"
"Wherever he likes," said Rodolph, interrupting the Chourineur with a
meaning smile.
The black returned.
"Well, David, well, and how is Murphy?"
"He sleeps, my lord," said the doctor, despondingly; "his respiration is
very difficult."
"Not out of danger?"
"His case is very critical, my lord; yet there is hope."
"Oh, Murphy! vengeance! vengeance!" exclaimed Rodolph, in a tone of
concentrated rage. Then he added, "David, a word--"
And he whispered something in the ear of the black. He started back.
"Do you hesitate?" said Rodolph. "Yet I have often suggested this idea
to you; the moment is come to put it into practice."
"I do not hesitate, my lord; the suggestion is well worthy the
consideration of the most elevated jurists, for this punishment is at
the same time terrible and yet fruitful for repentance. In this case it
is most applicable. Without enumerating the crimes which have
accumulated to send this wretch to the Bagne for his life, he has
committed three murders,--the cattle-dealer, Murphy, and yourself; it is
in his case justice--"
"He will have before him an unlimited horizon for expiation," added
Rodolph. After a moment's silence he resumed: "And five thousand francs
will suffice, David?"
"Amply, my lord."
"My good fellow," said Rodolph to the bewildered Chourineur, "I have two
words to say to M. David; will you go into that chamber on the other
side, where you will see a large red pocketbook on a bureau; open it and
take out five notes of a thousand francs each, and bring them to me."
"And," inquired the Chourineur, involuntarily, "who are those five
thousand francs for?"
"For the Schoolmaster. And do you, at the same time, tell them to bring
him in here."