overjoyed to have beside him the pretty girl of whom he was enamored,
drew himself up and tossed his head, which made him appear even taller
and diminished the stature of his companion.
They walked on for some time, the Gascon making his rusty spurs and
Roland's scabbard ring on the stones; Miretta thinking of Giovanni and
glancing all about at the slightest sound.
"Are we still far from the place to which I am going?" the girl asked
her guide at last.
Passedix did not reply for some seconds. Since he had felt Miretta's arm
in his, his love for the dark maiden had made rapid progress; his heart
beat violently beneath his patched doublet, his head burned, and his
imagination indulged in a multitude of wild antics.
At last he argued the matter out with himself thus:
"Since my good star has caused me to meet my inhuman fair, I should be
very stupid to take her to my rival, that knave who nearly made me lose
Roland; should I not rather seize the opportunity which offers to avenge
myself and to triumph over a cruel enslaver? The little one does not
know her way; instead of taking her to her rendezvous, I will take her
to the Place aux Chats, and tell her that it is the Pont-aux-Choux!
Then, by frightening her with tales of robbers, I will try to induce her
to accept shelter in the Hôtel du Sanglier; and once there!--Sandioux!
it's a daring plan, it has a suggestion of felony about it! But this
girl is a demon, and I shall not vanquish her unless I resort to heroic
means!"
"Well, monsieur le chevalier, you have not yet answered me; are we still
far from the Pont-aux-Choux?"
"Why, yes, my sweet child, rather far. Oh! you had gone entirely astray,
you were not going in the right direction."
"That is strange; I followed the directions that were given me."
"Some persons are so unkind! they take delight in making people go
astray who ask them to point out their road.--Lean on me, tender
blossom! Do not be afraid of wearying me; it is a joy to me to feel your
round arm in mine. Ah! ye gods!"
"It would be a great joy to me to arrive. I cannot understand this; it
seems to me that you are making me retrace my steps."
"As you were not going toward your destination, I must, of course, take
you back. This is one of the most blissful evenings of my life!"
"Do not press my arm so tightly, I beg you."
"This loving pressure is a magnetic effect of the fire which consumes my
heart, and which snaps devilishly so near to you!"
"Are you going to begin again to talk to me of your love? I thought that
you were cured."
"Cured! I!--Better to die than to be cured! What would you have me talk
about, sweet friend, when I am with you?"
"Have you forgotten, pray, that I am only a servant, upon whom you
conferred too much honor simply by looking at her?"
"A man may say that when he is angry, my dear; but, in reality, he does
not mean a word of it."
"Oh!" cried Miretta, suddenly stopping at a street corner; "I am sure
now that it is you who have lost your way! I recognize this street
perfectly; it runs into the street I live on; you have brought me back
to the quarter I came from."
"Sandis! I am taking you where you want to go. Come, we shall soon be
there."
"No!" cried the girl, as she withdrew her arm from the chevalier's,
refusing to go any farther; "no! I will not go with you, for it is not
possible that the Pont-aux-Choux is in this direction."
Passedix tried to take Miretta's arm again; she resisted, but the Gascon
was excited, and he was determined not to let the girl escape him anew.
Suddenly a new personage, whose approach neither of them had observed or
heard, appeared on the scene and put an end to the contest by releasing
Miretta from the chevalier's grasp.
The new-comer wore the costume of a citizen of the middle class; his
chin was cleanly shaven.
The girl had no sooner glanced at him than her face regained its
serenity; and she hastened to take her place by his side, while the
unknown said to the Gascon:
"How now, my master! Do you propose to make this young girl go with you
against her will? For a chevalier who wears a helmet and sword, that is
hardly chivalrous."
"Eh! where in the devil did this fellow spring from? I neither heard nor
saw him coming. Do me the favor to go your way, my dear fellow; this
young shepherdess is in my company, and we do not require your
interference in our affairs."
"But it seemed to me that you were hardly in accord, and I always
protect the ladies.--Tell me, my lovely child, did not this gentleman
try to make you take a road which you did not wish to take?"
"He did indeed, monsieur; for I wished to go to the Pont-aux-Choux, and
I am sure that he was not taking me there!"
"Oh, no! by no means! He was taking you to the Place aux Chats, to the
Hôtel du Sanglier; a most excellent hotel, i' faith! of which he
proposed to do the honors for you, I doubt not."
"Sandioux! it seems that you know me! But whoever you are, I forbid you
to take this girl's arm! Back, instantly!"
Passedix tried to push away the stranger, who had already taken the
girl's arm in his; but with his free hand the _soi-disant_ bourgeois
seized the Gascon's wrist and pressed it with his fingers with such
force that he cried:
"Oh! oh! That cursed grip again! Ah! it is the very same, I recognize
it! You are the mechanic of the Place de Grève; you are the Bohemian of
the Loup de Mer!"
"Search your memory--it is possible that I am still another person."
"Yes--those eyes, that expression! Ten thousand devils! it is the face
of the Comte de Carvajal, the noble guest of Dame Cadichard! But whoever
you may be, double, triple, or quadruple! even though you be the devil
in person--if you are a man of heart, you will give me satisfaction like
a gallant champion, sword in hand!"
"Ah! you wish to measure swords with me, do you, chevalier? Very good!
it shall be as you wish. On guard!--Have no fear, my girl! it is a
matter of an instant."
As he spoke, the pretended bourgeois drew from beneath his cloak a short
sword with a broad blade. Meanwhile, Passedix had drawn Roland from the
scabbard; but when he saw his adversary's weapon, he paused and
exclaimed:
"What in the devil do you expect to do with that little cutlass against
my noble blade? Sandis! I have too great an advantage over you!"
"Let not that deter you, chevalier, but try to hold your long sword more
firmly in your hand this time."
With that, the stranger attacked Roland with such vigor and dexterity,
that in less than two minutes the long sword went flying through the
air, and Passedix, stepping back, put his foot in a hole, fell over, and
rolled at the feet of his adversary, who placed the point of his short
sword against the prostrate man's breast, saying:
"Well! do you think that my little cutlass is worthy to measure itself
against your illustrious blade?"
"I cannot understand it! You have a way of fighting that bewilders one!
deceives one! Sandis! it is impossible; it must be that I have the gout
in my right hand!--But, no matter! I am vanquished! Strike!"
"I should be very sorry to do so. Au revoir, Chevalier Passedix! try to
find your sword; it went in that direction. But take my advice and do
not again lead young girls astray."
As he spoke, the victor joined Miretta, drew her arm through his, and
walked rapidly off with her, paying no further heed to his adversary,
who made a piteous face when he saw them go away together.
"Ah! what good fortune to have met you, Giovanni!" said Miretta, when
they were far enough away to have no fear of being overheard. "I was not
afraid for a single instant during the battle I have just been watching;
I was perfectly sure that you would be the victor!"
"But why did you wish to go to the Pont-aux-Choux so late?"
"Why! Because I want to save you; because you are in danger; because,
guilty as you are, I do not want you to be arrested and put to death!"
"_Què diavolo è questo?_ What is the source of this dread, of these new
alarms?"
"Ah! because I heard a young man say: 'I know where Giovanni's usual
lurking place is; it is near the Pont-aux-Choux that he ordinarily lies
in hiding; if they would surround that place with archers, it would be
very easy to capture the famous brigand.'"
"Ah! indeed!"
"'It is in that neighborhood,' he added, 'that he usually attacks
people; not long ago he stole an ass from my cousin, and murdered an old
peasant woman of Vincennes!'--Oh! those words made me shudder; I said
that it was not true, that Giovanni never shed blood.--Was I right in
saying that?"
"You did right to think it, but you did wrong to say it. Do you wish
people to suspect that you know me? You are an imprudent child, Miretta;
you forget what I have told you.--Never a word about me, never a comment
that may lead anyone to infer that we are not strangers to each other!
Listen, but do not seem to pay any attention to what people say about
me."
"Oh! do you think that it is possible for me to remain unmoved when I
hear someone say that he knows where you hide, that you will be
arrested, that you will be---- Oh! I will not utter that horrible word!"
"In the first place, my dear love, why are you so silly as to place any
faith in these fables, invented by one person to give himself
importance, and repeated by others because lies always find fools enough
who are ready to spread them? I, kill a peasant! to take her vegetables,
I presume? I, steal an ass! Why, what on earth should I do with it?--And
you could believe that, Miretta! you, who have seen my wealth, and who
know of the thirst for gold that possesses me now!"
"Mon Dieu! will it never be satisfied, this passion which drives you to
crime? Giovanni, do you mean to pass your whole life in this way?"
"No; a few months more.--Hark ye, next spring I mean to return to my
lovely Italy."
"You will take me, will you not?"
"Yes, I will take you. I will buy a palace, a superb villa. I will have
splendid equipages. You shall be covered with diamonds! I propose that
Milan and Florence shall be dazzled by my magnificence and my luxurious
mode of life."
"Why do you not carry out your plan now?"
"No; this will be a good winter in Paris; we will go in the spring."
"Giovanni, no one can defy danger forever with impunity! No one can be
always stronger than the laws and his fellow men! The moment of
retribution arrives when he believes that he is safe from all danger."
"Enough, Miretta, enough! I have told you before that your arguments are
of no avail.--Let us take this street--we shall soon be at the Hôtel de
Mongarcin."
"Then let us take another, for I do not want to leave you so soon,
Giovanni. I do not know why, but it seems to me that I shall not see you
again for a long while. I have a heavy weight on my heart; do not leave
me yet, I implore you, unless your safety requires it!"
"My safety has nothing to fear. But it is very late, and I thought that
it was necessary for you to return."
"Oh! I am in no hurry now; I may remain as long as I please; my mistress
herself gave me permission, for she thinks that I am employing my time
in her service."
"What does that mean?"
"That Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin, furious with rage because she
is disdained by the young Comte Léodgard de Marvejols, who was to marry
her, wishes to know if he is really in love with the daughter of a bath
keeper on Rue Dauphine, and if it is really he who obtains access to her
at night by scaling the balcony of a window on the first floor.
Mademoiselle instructed me to investigate, to resort to every possible
means of ascertaining the truth."
"Your investigation is all made, the truth is ascertained for you.--I
know better than anyone what takes place in Paris at night. I know Comte
Léodgard; on a certain night last winter I had quite a long conversation
with him; and for some time past I have, in fact, noticed him several
times scaling the bath keeper Landry's balcony. It would never have
occurred to me to interfere with him; I should have been more inclined
to assist him, if he had needed assistance."
"In that case, my errand is done. Mademoiselle Valentine is not happy in
her love; for, although she will not admit it, I am very certain that
she loves this young seigneur; but not so much, surely, as I love my
Giovanni! O Giovanni! why must I leave you again? If you would----"
"The day will soon break," said Giovanni, interrupting her, "and I must
not wait for it. Let us go this way and walk faster; I am going to take
you home."
Miretta dared not remonstrate; but she sighed as she quickened her pace,
and they walked along in silence.
They were soon within a few yards of the Hôtel de Mongarcin. Giovanni
released his companion's arm, saying:
"Here you are at home; adieu!"
"Already! what! must I leave you so soon? Just a moment more!"
"Really, Miretta, you are not reasonable to-night; do you not see that
point of light in the sky, which announces the dawn? The stars are
growing dim, the darkness is beginning to fade away. Do not keep me
longer; adieu!"
Giovanni dropped the hand which tried to press his once more; he hurried
away and disappeared.
Miretta stood like a statue when he had left her; she was conscious of a
sharp pain at her heart, as if she had been stabbed.
XXVI
THE PONT-AUX-CHOUX
Historians are not agreed as to the first two encircling walls which
were built around Paris; but there is no doubt as to the location of the
third, which we owe to Philippe-Auguste, and which was begun in 1190.
This wall, starting from the right bank of the Seine, where the Pont des
Arts now is, traversed the site of the Louvre in the direction of the
Oratoire Saint-Honoré, where Porte Saint-Honoré stood; it then described
a curve to the _carrefour_ now formed by Rues Jean-Jacques Rousseau,
Coquillière, and de Grenelle. When it reached Rue Montmartre, the wall
was broken by Porte Montmartre. It continued along the northern side of
Rue Mauconseil to Rue Saint-Martin, where there was a gate called Porte
de Nicolas Huidelon. Crossing the sites of Rues Michel-le-Comte,
Geoffroy-Langevin, du Chaume, de Paradis, where Porte de Braque stood,
to Vieille Rue du Temple, it went on to Porte Beaudoyer, crossed the
enclosure of the Convent of the Ave Maria and Rue des Barres, and ended
at the right bank of the Seine.
The work on the wall south of the river began in 1208. This wall, built
through gardens and vineyards as far as Porte Saint-Marcel, skirted the
enclosure of Sainte-Geneviève to the Château de Hautefeuille, cut across
Clos Bruneau to Porte de Bussy, and, following the outer wall of the
Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés and the smaller Pré-aux-Clercs, came to
an end at the Tour de Nesle.
This third wall had round towers at intervals to protect it. But the
most formidable ones were at the extremities, on the banks of the Seine.
Under the reign of François I, the wall had been considerably enlarged.
But, in the year 1536, the Cardinal du Bellai, lieutenant-general of the
armies of King François, being informed of the approach of the English,
who were already devastating Normandie and Picardie, and dreading the
result of an attack upon Paris, ordered trenches and moats to be dug
from Porte Saint-Antoine to Porte Saint-Honoré. These were afterward
called the Fossés Jaunes [yellow moats].
This little digression into the domain of history is necessary to recall
old Paris to the minds of our readers, especially so that they may be
able to form an accurate idea of the localities where the events took
place which we are about to describe.
Pont Saint-Louis, otherwise called the Pont-aux-Choux, because of the
proximity of Faubourg Saint-Antoine, and because it was principally used
by the market gardeners, who crossed it to carry their vegetables into
the heart of the city, was situated between Porte du Temple and Porte
Saint-Antoine, and was built over the moats of which we have just
described the origin. Over this bridge, which was a dismal and often
deserted structure, there was a gate of a commonplace type of
architecture, called Porte Saint-Louis. But as it had not been closed
for many years, there was no keeper; it was very dilapidated, and on the
point of falling in ruins.
All about the Pont-aux-Choux were swamps, a large portion of which was
uncultivated. Tall grass grew along the edges of the moat, which
contained nothing but a little slimy water, through which it would have
been difficult to force a boat. Thus the whole locality had a sort of
wild and forbidding aspect, well calculated to inspire terror in the
solitary traveller whom the darkness surprised on that road.
However, on a certain lovely night in summer, several young gentlemen,
some of whom were acquaintances of ours, having crossed the
Pont-aux-Choux on their way back to Paris, halted about three hundred
yards beyond it, and one of them threw himself on the turf, crying:
"Faith, I don't care! go on if you choose, my masters; but I am going to
rest here; it is very comfortable on the grass. Besides, I feel that I
am drunk; I cannot stand on my legs."
"How now, my poor Monclair! Can you carry your wine no better than this?
What a pity!"
"Don't put on airs, Sénange! You are at least as drunk as I am, if not
more so."
"The fact is that I am quite as willing to sit down as to stumble at
every step on these horrible roads.--What an infernal way for Léodgard
to make us take!--I say, Comte de Marvejols, where are you? I want to
congratulate you!--Where in the devil is my valet Bruno? Let him bring a
torch here, and we will have another game."
"Your esquire is ahead; he walked on."
"I must call him.--Messieurs, messieurs, you fellows who are still on
your legs, have the kindness to call my esquire, my page, my
varlet--that rascal who is going off with the lanterns yonder, without
taking the trouble to see if his master is following him."
These words were addressed to three other young gentlemen who had halted
a few yards away. Among them was Léodgard de Marvejols, whose features
were far from denoting hilarity, and who did not seem, like some of his
friends, to have left his reason at the bottom of his glass.
The servant, being recalled, came back and placed a lighted lantern on
the ground, near the two gentlemen who were already seated on the grass.
The others decided to join them; but Léodgard remained a little behind,
leaning thoughtfully against a solitary tree.
"Do you propose to stay here, my fine fellows?" he asked.
"Yes; the fresh air has finished us, we cannot stand on our legs any
longer."
"It is a fact that the supper was delicious and the wines exquisite.
Montrevert did things very handsomely; his _petite maison_ is a
delightful place."
"Speaking of Montrevert, did he not say that he was coming with us?"
"Yes; he said: 'Go on, and I will overtake you.'"
"Well, he does not seem to have overtaken us, and we are a good quarter
of a league from his house."
"That is true, and it is an additional reason why we should rest here
and wait for him."
"Bah! he won't come; he has probably remained with his infanta. She is a
very pretty girl, that Herminie!"
"But I tell you, messieurs, that Montrevert will come; he cannot stay at
his _petite maison_, for he must be in Paris to-morrow for the king's
_lever_. He has hopes of being admitted to the company of Gray
Mousquetaires, which his majesty has just organized; it is a bodyguard
that is to attend him everywhere, even to the hunt.--Vive Dieu!
messieurs, but it is a fine corps! Such a coquettish uniform--red,
trimmed with gold. Ah! what conquests those fellows will make with that
uniform!"
"Look you, I too have some hope of entering this corps of
mousquetaires," said the young Marquis de Sénange, trying to straighten
up and maintain a sitting posture on the grass. "I too ought to be at
the king's _lever_ to-morrow--or rather, this morning. But I think that
I shall not be there! I am too dizzy--deuce take it! Youth is the age of
folly and pleasure.--Ah! I wish I could find someone who would sit back
to back with me; we would support each other.--Monclair, sit behind me."
"No; I am very comfortable, I refuse to stir."
"What a selfish beast that little Monclair is!--Come, La Valteline, and
you, Beausseilly--come and sit down with us."
The two young men who were still standing decided to seat themselves on
the grass near their companions. But he who was called La Valteline
turned toward Léodgard and shouted:
"Well! Comte de Marvejols, aren't you going to join us? What the deuce
are you doing there, all alone, with your eyes fixed on the sky? are you
going into astrology? Beware! you know that a commission is sitting at
the Arsenal, in the Poison Chamber, for the express purpose of trying
persons accused of magic! And astrologers are very closely related to
sorcerers!"
"Messieurs," said the Sire de Beausseilly, lowering his voice, "poor
Léodgard is in no laughing mood, and you must understand why: he was
very unlucky at cards to-night, he lost all that he possessed to
Montrevert, and, I believe, a hundred pistoles more on credit."
"He is always unlucky with Montrevert, he ought never to play with him;
for that charming _petite maison_ where we supped, which is decorated so
suggestively, used to belong to Marvejols; he staked it against heaven
knows what sum with Montrevert! And now that delicious resort no longer
belongs to him! To be sure, Montrevert often invites him there."
"If he does it in order to win his money, as he has done to-night, it is
not very amusing for Léodgard. I have noticed that fortune has been very
adverse to him for some time past. He always loses, poor fellow!"
"And I believe he is in debt; he owes everybody!"
"Vive Dieu! messieurs, should a man torment himself because he is in
debt? As for myself, I have creditors, and plenty of them--I am proud of
the fact! But when the knaves have the impudence to ask me for money,
then I draw my sword and shout and curse and excite myself to such a
frenzy that they run away as if the devil was at their heels! That is
the way to arrange one's affairs!"
Léodgard had not heard La Valteline's call, for he was still looking at
the stars.
"Stay, messieurs; I will wager that I will make him come; I know the
way.--Holà! Bruno! come here, knave! Have you the dice and diceboxes in
your pocket?"
"Yes, seigneur."
"Give them to me."
The valet handed to his master, the Marquis de Sénange, two ivory
diceboxes and the dice; the young man placed the dice in one of the
boxes and shook them a long while, then began to exclaim:
"Seven--eleven--twelve! I have won! I have won!"
The rattling of the dice produced the effect which Sénange anticipated:
Léodgard, roused from his reverie, left his place and drew near the
gentlemen who were seated about the torch.
"What, messieurs! are you shaking dice on the grass?" he asked.
"Sénange is shaking all by himself at this moment."
"I heard him say that he had won."
"Pardieu! yes, for I have won; I bet that with my dice I would draw the
Comte de Marvejols hither.--Tell me, my masters, did I succeed?--Come,
Léodgard, sit down and laugh a bit with us! What is the use of losing
your temper with Fortune? What good does it do? She's a woman; what she
will not grant to-day, she will grant to-morrow."
"Moreover, Comte Léodgard cannot accuse Fortune with a good grace; for
if she is adverse to him at play, with the fair she seems to treat him
like a spoiled child."
"There is a report of a certain _bonne fortune_ with a damsel on Rue
Dauphine; and I hear that the little one is as beautiful as Cupid. She
was kept carefully concealed, but that devil of a Léodgard would
discover her kind at the bottom of a well or on top of the steepest
cliffs!"
"Come, Léodgard, tell us about this intrigue."
"Yes, yes! tell us about this bourgeois _bonne fortune_. It will help us
to pass the time until Montrevert comes; he must have fallen into some
hole in the road."
Léodgard stretched himself out carelessly on the grass and looked at his
companions, saying:
"Has anyone anything to drink? I am extremely thirsty, and I can't tell
my story unless I have something to drink."
"By Saint Jacques! I would like a drink, too!" muttered young Monclair,
making vain efforts to sit up.
"What! not a drop? and no wine shops near by!"
"A cheerful spot, the neighborhood of this horrible
Pont-aux-Choux!--There is not a house in sight--not even a hovel!"
"Wait, my friends, wait.--Holà! Bruno!"
The Marquis de Sénange's valet approached the group.