IN WHICH FATHER LUSTUCRU IS ON THE POINT OF
ACCOMPLISHING HIS PURPOSE, AND MOTHER MICHEL'S
CAT IS IN AN UNPLEASANT PREDICAMENT.
Lustucru had fixed the following day for the cruel execution of Moumouth,
for he knew that Mother Michel on that day was to carry to the express
office a package destined for her sister.
All the forenoon and afternoon Faribole was plunged in the darkest
despondency, and when the fatal hour sounded, he was assailed by the
irresolutions of the previous day. When Mother Michel, before going out,
said to him, "I leave Moumouth in your charge; you must take care of him,
and make him play, so that he will not fret too much during my absence,"
the poor lad felt his heart fail, and his natural loyalty revolted.
"Come, we have not a minute to lose," said Father Lustucru to Faribole;
"here is the sack; go look for the beast!"
Faribole once more appealed to the pity of the steward; he was eloquent,
he had tears in his voice, he pronounced a most touching plea, but
without being able to gain his cause. The executioner was immovable; he
insisted on the death of the cat; and the boy, overpowered by this evil
spirit, saw himself forced to obey.
Moumouth allowed himself to be enticed into the garden; he followed his
treacherous friend with the confidence of the lamb following the butcher,
and, at the very moment when he least thought of it, he found himself
fastened in the sack that was to be his tomb. Lustucru, who was hiding,
appeared suddenly, bearing two enormous cudgels; he handed one to his
accomplice, and taking hold of the sack, cried:--"Now!--to work, and no
quarter!"
Faribole heard him not; the boy was struck with stupor--his eyes rolled
wildly in their sockets, his face was livid, his mouth open, his arms
without strength.
Father Lustucru, animated by the nearness of his vengeance, did not
remark what passed in the mind of his companion. Having thrown the sack
rudely on the ground, the steward lifted his cudgel, and was about to
strike when the small door of the garden opened.
"How unfortunate!" he muttered; "Faribole, hide yourself in the hedge; I
will come back here presently."
[Illustration: The Steward lifted his Cudgel.]
He approached the person who had entered, and halted, petrified with
amazement, on beholding Mother Michel. He imagined at first that she had
been brought back by some vague suspicion, by some presentiment; but he
recovered himself, hearing her say:--
"I am obliged to postpone my walk, for I have seen Madame de la
Grenouillere's carriage coming; it turned out of its way on account of
the repairs being made in the street. By reentering through the garden I
was able to get here in advance. Come, Monsieur Lustucru, let us hasten
to receive our good mistress."
"I am with you, madame," said the steward; then, making a
speaking-trumpet of his hand, he cried to Faribole:--
[Illustration: Making a Speaking-trumpet of his Hand.]
"Strike all alone! strike until the cat has ceased to move!" and he
rejoined Mother Michel in the court, where the domestics were drawn up in
a line like a well-drilled battalion.
On stepping from the carriage Madame de la Grenouillere honored her
servitors with a benevolent glance, embraced Mother Michel with touching
familiarity, and demanded news of Moumouth.
[Illustration: The Countess embraces Mother Michel.]
"Your protege is wonderfully well," said Mother Michel, "he grows fatter
and handsomer under our very eyes; but it may be said, without injury to
the truth, that his moral qualities are even beyond his physical
charms."
"Poor friend, if he does not love me he will be a monster of ingratitude,
for since our separation I have thought of him constantly; Heaven has
taken away many beings that were dear to me, but Moumouth will be the
consolation of my old age!"
As soon as the Countess had given the orders which her arrival made
necessary, she prayed Mother Michel to fetch Moumouth.
"He will be charmed to see you again, madame," Mother Michel answered;
"he is in the garden in the care of Faribole, a little young man whom
your steward judged proper to admit to the house; the young rogue and
the cat have become a pair of intimate friends."
[Illustration: Faribole seated in the Garden.]
Mother Michel went down to the garden and there found Faribole alone,
seated upon a bench, and with a preoccupied air stripping the leaves from
a branch of boxwood which he held in his hand.
"My friend," said the good woman, "Madame, the Countess, desires you to
bring Moumouth to her."
"Moumouth!" stammered Faribole, starting at the name as if he had been
stung by a wasp.
"Yes, Moumouth; I thought he was with you."
"He just quitted me; some persons passing in the street made a noise that
frightened him, and he leaped into the hedge."
Mother Michel, after having spent more than half an hour in scouring the
garden, returned to Madame de la Grenouillere and said: "Moumouth is
absent, madame; but do not be anxious; he disappeared once before, and we
found him in the garret."
"Let him be searched for! I do not wish to wait. I desire to see him this
instant!"
Alas! this desire was not likely to be gratified, if any reliance could
be placed upon the words exchanged in the dark between Lustucru and his
accomplice.
"Well, did you do it?"
"Yes, Monsieur Lustucru, I pounded until the cat ceased to move."
"What have you done with the body?"
"I have thrown it into the Seine."
"Was he quite dead?"
"He didn't stir."
"Anyway, the sack was securely fastened. Justice is done!"