taken in a highway robber! And that scoundrel is sleeping on an honest
man’s bed! Who knows that he hasn’t made an appointment with all his
gang at my house? Indeed, they say that the neighborhood has been
infested with robbers for some time. Perhaps they mean to take
possession of my cabin and turn it into one of their dens. The devil! if
I was sure of it, I’d begin by getting rid of this fellow, while he is
alone. But let me see; I must try to verify this suspicion of mine.”
The wood-cutter walked toward Edouard; with great care he slit the back
of the unfortunate convict’s waistcoat, put aside the portion which
covered the shoulder, and held his lamp to it, concealing with the other
hand the rays of light which might have fallen on the stranger’s eyes.
Holding his breath, he put his head forward and with a shudder of horror
saw the fatal brand.
“I wasn’t mistaken,” said the wood-cutter, setting his lamp down on the
hearth and cocking his gun. “He is a villain, but by all the devils, he
shan’t stay in my house any longer! Even if I have to run the risk of
other dangers, I will drive this rascal out of my cabin.”
He returned to the bed and pushed Edouard roughly with the butt of his
gun. The convict woke, sat up in bed and gazed in terror at his host,
who was aiming the gun at him, and whose eyes were blazing with anger.
“Leave my house this minute!” cried the wood-cutter in a loud voice,
with his gun still leveled at Edouard; “clear out! and don’t think of
coming back, or I will blow your brains out.”
“What’s the matter? why this outbreak?” said Edouard, gazing about him
in surprise. “Am I no longer in the cabin where I was made welcome? Are
you the man who deigned to share your food and your bed with an
unfortunate fellow-creature? And now you turn me out! What have I done
to be treated like this?”
“You know well enough, you villain; go and join your comrades on the
highroads, go and rob and murder travellers; but you will find no
shelter under my roof.”
“You are mistaken, monsieur, you are wrong; I swear to you, I am not a
robber, I am not capable of evil designs!”
“Indeed! and perhaps you’re an honest man? What about that mark that you
bear? Was it for your brave acts that you were decorated like that?”
“Great God!” said Edouard, putting his hand to his waistcoat and
discovering that it was cut; “what--you dared----”
“I wanted to make sure what you were; your conduct aroused my suspicion
and I had to see if I was right. Come, you can see that your talk and
your stories won’t deceive me any longer. Come now, off with you, I
can’t sleep with a man like you.”
“Unhappy wretch that I am,” said Edouard, leaving the bed and beating
his brow, “I have no resources left; I am lost, cast out by the whole
world. Obliged to shun society, which spurns me, reduced to the
necessity of living in the darkness, this infamous mark drives me to
crime; only among brigands can I find shelter now; only by committing
new crimes can I prolong my existence! The road of repentance is closed
to me; I have no choice but to be a criminal!”
As he spoke, he threw himself on the ground and writhed in despair at
the wood-cutter’s feet. The latter was moved for a moment, when he saw
the mental distress of the wretch before him; he laid down his gun, and
would perhaps have yielded to compassion, when two whistles rang out and
were repeated loudly in different parts of the forest.
Instantly the wood-cutter’s suspicion and rage revived in full force. He
had no doubt that the signal that he had heard was that of the brigands
come to join their comrade. He took his gun again; Edouard tried once
more to implore his compassion; he approached his host, raising his
hands in entreaty; but the wood-cutter, mistaking the meaning of the
miserable wretch, whom he deemed capable of murdering him, stepped back
and pulled the trigger.
The gun was discharged! being badly aimed, the murderous bullet did not
strike its victim, but whistled over his shoulder as he knelt on the
floor, and buried itself in the wall. Thereupon rage and despair revived
Edouard’s courage; he determined to sell his life dearly; he seized an
axe which he saw in a corner of the cabin, and as his host returned
toward him to strike him with the butt of his gun, he dealt him a blow
in the head which stretched him lifeless at his feet. The wood-cutter
fell without uttering a sound; his blood spurted upon Edouard, who was
horrified to find himself covered with it.
At the same moment the door of the cabin was broken in; four men,
clothed with rags, but armed to the teeth and wearing hideous masks,
appeared in the doorway and put their heads into the room, gazing for
some moments in surprise at the spectacle which met their eyes.
“Oho!” said the one who seemed to be their chief, “it seems to me that
strange things are happening here, and that we have comrades in the
neighborhood. Thunder and guns! Here’s a fellow who looks to me as if he
had done a good job!”
Edouard was standing motionless in the middle of the room, still holding
in his hand the bloody axe with which he had struck down the
wood-cutter.
The brigands entered the room. The leader scrutinized Edouard and
uttered an exclamation of surprise and delight.
“It is he!” he cried at last; “it is really he! Look at him,
comrade,--you should recognize him too.”
“Parbleu! yes, it’s our friend; come, Murville, embrace your old
acquaintances, your faithful companions in pleasure and adversity.”
Edouard heard voices which were familiar to him; he raised his eyes and
saw Lampin before him; but he did not recognize the other brigand, whose
voice had caught his attention. The latter took his hand and shook it
violently; Edouard looked at him again, and sought upon the horribly
mutilated face features which were not unknown to him.
“What,” said Lampin; “don’t you recognize Dufresne, our old friend?”
“Dufresne!” cried Edouard; “is it possible?”
“Yes, Murville, it is himself,” said Dufresne, untying a number of bands
which disfigured his face by representing scars, and taking off a
plaster which concealed one eye and a part of his forehead, as well as a
beard which covered his chin and his upper lip. “I’m delighted that you
don’t recognize me, for that demonstrates my talent for disguising
myself; and that’s something, especially when one has a death sentence
hanging over him. But you, my rascal, you seem to have limbered up a
little since we met. The devil! this does you credit.”
“Comrades,” said Lampin, who had been prowling about the cabin, “there’s
nothing of any good to us here; the shot we heard may bring people in
this direction, whom we should not be pleased to meet. Take my advice
and let us quit this hovel and go back into the woods; we can talk more
safely there.”
Lampin’s advice being adjudged prudent, the robbers left the cabin,
taking with them Edouard, who had hardly recovered from his surprise and
could not believe that he had found Dufresne again in the person of the
chief of a band of outlaws.
After walking for some time through the thickest part of the forest, the
robbers stopped in a clearing; they built a fire, produced provisions
which they spread on the grass, and having prepared their weapons in
case of surprise, they seated themselves about the flame, which alone
lighted their meal.
“I don’t know,” said Dufresne, gazing at Edouard with savage joy, “what
presentiment led me to hope that we should be united some day. In fact,
I have always acted with that end in view; isn’t that so, Lampin?”
Lampin was eating ravenously, and according to his custom, drinking even
more ravenously; he contented himself with a glance at Edouard,
accompanied by a laugh. Edouard observed his new companions, uncertain
as yet if he ought to congratulate himself upon meeting them.
“How does it happen that I meet you with Lampin in this forest?” he
asked Dufresne at last; “what has led you to embrace such a dangerous
life?”
“What’s that? what other sort of life do you expect a man to embrace
when he is outlawed from society, as we are? You’re not going to play
the innocent, are you, you who have just killed a poor wood-cutter,
whose death was of no benefit to you?”
“I did nothing but defend myself; that man had fired at me and was
threatening me again; I had to parry his blows.”
“The deuce, comrade, you have a pretty way of parrying!--But no matter,
let us return to ourselves. You must know that I have been sentenced to
death; luckily I didn’t wait for my sentence before escaping from
prison, thanks to these two faithful friends whom I had helped long ago.
We could not appear in the daylight; so we selected the woods and the
highways to carry on our trade; a man must do something. A little while
ago, we stopped a traveller who was riding through these woods, and I
recognized Lampin, who asked nothing better than to join us. You must
join us too, my dear Murville, for there is nothing else for you to do;
you ought to be enchanted to have met us.”
“Yes, yes,” said Lampin, “and I am sure that you no longer bear me a
grudge for leaving you with the wagoner at midnight. What can you
expect, my boy? I saw that the horse wasn’t worth much; he would never
have been able to gallop with two men on his back, and I gave myself the
preference; that was natural enough.”
“What a miserable life!” said Edouard, glancing about; “to live in the
woods, in the darkness, to dread being arrested every minute, to risk
one’s life for a few gold pieces!”
“Deuce take it, my little man,” said Lampin; “I agree that it was
livelier when we danced with Véronique-la-Blonde, beating time on her
flanks, and drinking madeira or champagne; but, you see, we all have our
ups and our downs.”
“Muster up your courage, my dear Murville,” said Dufresne; “we may be
rich yet, and enjoy life under another sky. Meanwhile, I don’t propose
any longer to confine myself to living in the woods, and waiting for a
poor traveller now and then; besides, four or five men are not enough to
form a formidable band, equal to stopping well-loaded vehicles. But I
have more extensive projects, and as I possess the talent of making
myself unrecognizable, when necessary, I hope that when my comrades are
thoroughly saturated with my lessons, we shall be able to try some bold
stroke,--either breaking into some wealthy man’s house, or assuming
title and rank, according to circumstances.”
“Ah! he’s a sly fox! he knows a lot! I would like right well to know the
man who educated him!”
“I can satisfy you, my friends, by telling you the story of my youth; it
will not take long and it will amuse you. Moreover, Murville will derive
some profit from it; there are some things in it which concern him, and
I have no need now of standing on ceremony with him.”
“Tell on, tell on,” said Lampin; “meanwhile, we will drink; in fact,
there’s nothing better for us to do in this infernal wood, where we have
drawn blank for two nights. Come, comrades, let us start up the fire and
drink quietly.”
The robbers rekindled the fire, took a bottle each, and gathered about
their leader; while Edouard, with his head resting in his hands, waited
in gloomy silence for Dufresne to begin his story.
XXXIV
DUFRESNE’S STORY
I was born in a small village in the neighborhood of Rennes. My father,
who had been rich and highly esteemed, was completely ruined by the loss
of a lawsuit which a cousin of his brought against him. Reduced to
poverty and having no friends, he was obliged to accept a place as
game-keeper to an old nobleman who cared more for his game than for his
vassals, and would not forgive the death of a rabbit or a partridge
killed on his land.
My father, embittered by misfortune, cherished in the depths of his
heart a longing to be revenged upon the man who had stolen his property
from him. He lived in a small cabin in the midst of the woods; he took
me there and kept me with him. I was six years old when my father
retired into that solitude. I was bold, enterprising, brave, wilful, and
even then determined in my resolutions. The almost savage life which I
led for several years did not help to soften my nature. I constantly
roamed about the forests, and climbed mountains and steep cliffs; I
leaped torrents and ravines; and when I returned home to my father, he
would rehearse the story of his misfortune; he taught me to curse men
whose injustice had revolted his heart; he urged me to distrust the
whole world, and never to rely upon the equity or gratitude of my
fellowmen; and to prove what he said, he told me of the services he had
rendered when he was rich, all of which had been repaid with
ingratitude; he told me of the unjust lawsuit which he had lost only
through fraud and bad faith; and finally made me swear to avenge him
upon the man who had ruined him.
My father’s words readily found a lodging in my memory. Perhaps other
advice might have led me to protect and defend those whom I swore to
despise and to hate; but first impressions are all-powerful upon an
inexperienced mind, and the independence of my tastes inclined me to
crush without examination all the obstacles which thwarted my desires.
An episode which I witnessed served to intensify my aversion for
mankind. I was then thirteen years old, and I had just taken a lesson in
reading from my father; for he had told me that education was essential
to my best interests, and that reason alone had induced me to learn
something. I was walking in the woods when I heard two shots very near
me. I ran in the direction from which the reports came, and I saw two
young men, who had been arrested because they were hunting in the
nobleman’s forest.
One was a well-dressed young man, of aristocratic manners and bearing;
the other was a poor peasant, covered with rags and apparently in the
last stages of want. The first had killed a kid, the other a rabbit, and
yet the young man from the city was laughing and singing among the
keepers, while the peasant, pale-faced and trembling, had hardly
strength enough to stand.
Curious to learn the sequel of the affair, I followed the crowd to the
château; the nobleman was absent at the time, but his steward took his
place; he had full power and represented his master; so the two
prisoners were taken before the steward. I mingled with the crowd and
succeeded thus in making my way into a large hall, to which the poachers
were taken first. The steward arrived; when he saw the young man from
the city, he realized that he had not, as usual, to deal with country
bumpkins who were accustomed to tremble before him. He dismissed
everybody, in order to question the fine gentleman in private. But I,
instead of going out with the others, concealed myself under a table
covered with a cloth, and heard very distinctly the following
conversation:
“Monsieur, I am distressed to be obliged to act harshly,” said the
steward in a wheedling tone, “but my master is very strict, and his
orders are absolute.”
“Bah! old fox, you are joking, I fancy, with your orders,” said the
young man, laughing at the steward; “understand that I am a young man of
family, and that if you do not set me at liberty instantly, I will cut
off your ears at the first opportunity.”
“Monsieur, this is a very strange tone, and I cannot allow----”
“Look you, old Arab, I see what you want! You are the steward, that
tells the whole story; take this purse; there are fifteen louis in it;
that is more than all your master’s kids are worth.”
As he spoke, the young man took from his pocket a purse, which the
steward accepted without hesitation. Then, opening a little secret door,
he said in an undertone:
“Go down this way into the garden; then turn to the right and you can go
out through another gate that leads into the fields. I am endangering
myself for you, but you have such engaging manners!”
The young huntsman did not wait to hear any more; he was already in the
garden. The steward carefully locked the small door, then rang for a
servant and ordered him to bring the other poacher before him.
They brought in the peasant, and the steward was left alone with him.
“Why do you hunt?” he asked the peasant, in a harsh voice and a sharp
tone which bore no resemblance to that which he had assumed with the
other prisoner.
“My good monsieur,” said the poor man, falling on his knees, “pray
forgive me; it is the first time and I swear that it shall be the last.”
“These rascals always say the same thing!”
“I ain’t a rascal, but a poor devil with a wife and five children, and I
can’t support ’em.”
“Well, you knave, why do you have children?”
“Well! monsieur l’intendant, that’s the only pleasure a man can get
without money.”
“As if clowns like you ought to have any pleasure! Work, you dog, work;
that’s your lot.”
“I haven’t got any work, and I earn so little, so little, that it’s
hardly enough to keep us alive!”
“Because you eat like ogres!”
“I don’t ever eat enough, so’s to have some to give to the little ones.”
“Your little ones! your little ones! These rascals starve the whole
province with their little ones!”
“Pardi! monsieur l’intendant, your master raises more than fifty dogs,
and it seems to me that I can raise four or five children.”
“Fancy this wretch daring to compare his disgusting young ones with
monseigneur’s greyhounds! Come, no arguing, you were caught poaching,
your case is clear, and the theft is proved. You will be lashed, fined,
and imprisoned!”
“Oh! mercy, monsieur! it was only a rabbit!”
“A rabbit, you scoundrel! a rabbit! Do you know what a rabbit is?
Monseigneur preserves rabbits; I must avenge the one that you killed.”
“Morgué! if it was for monsieur’s table----”
“That’s a very different matter; it would be too happy to enter its
master’s mouth; but you are a poacher.”
“Have pity on my wife and children, monsieur l’intendant! We are so
poor! there ain’t a sou in our house!”
“You deserve to be hanged! Off with you, to prison, and to-morrow the
lash.”
The steward rang, the servants appeared, and the peasant was taken away
despite his prayers and his tears.
I had remained under the table, where I was fairly choking with
indignation; when everybody had gone, I jumped out of the window and ran
home, to tell my father all that I had heard. My story did not surprise
him. It was only one proof more of the injustice and the barbarity of
men. For my own part, I had my plan. I knew that the nobleman was to
return next day, and I proposed to assure the punishment of the rascally
steward.
And so at daybreak I started for the château. When I arrived there, I
saw the unfortunate peasant in the courtyard being pitilessly beaten by
the servants, while the nobleman watched the spectacle from the balcony,
giving biscuit to his Danish hound and sugar to his greyhound.
“I am going to avenge you, goodman,” I said, as I passed the peasant;
and I at once ran up the stairs four at a time and entered monseigneur’s
apartments before the servants had had time to announce me. The steward
was with his master, counting out money; I ran and threw myself at
monseigneur’s feet; but in my eagerness I trod upon the paw of one of
his favorites. The hound began to yelp and his master cast an angry
glance at me, asking why I had been allowed access to him. Before anyone
could reply, I began my story and told, almost without stopping for
breath, all that I had heard the day before between the steward and the
aristocratic huntsman.
The old nobleman seemed a little surprised to learn that another poacher
had been arrested; but the steward, who quivered with anger while I was
speaking, made haste to tell his master that the young man was a
marquis, and that he had thought that he ought not to detain him.
“A marquis,” said the nobleman, taking a pinch of snuff, “a marquis! The
devil! that’s so--of course we could not have him beaten; so the peasant
must pay for both.”
“That is what I thought, monseigneur.”
“And you did well; send away this boy, who was awkward enough to tread
on Castor’s paw.”
The steward did not wait for the order to be repeated; he took me by the
arm; and I went unresistingly, unable to understand why monseigneur had
not been angry with the rascally servant. On the way, the steward gave
me a number of blows, and as many kicks; that was the only reward which
I received at the château.
I returned home in a frenzy of rage, revolving in my brain a thousand
schemes of revenge. My father, who then realized to what excess my
animosity might lead me, tried, but in vain, to pacify me.
The next morning, a message from the steward informed my father that he
was no longer monseigneur’s game-keeper. That was a result of my action
of the day before; he suspected as much, but did not reproach me. We
left our cabin with no idea of what was to become of us. As for me, my
father’s misfortune confirmed me in a plan which I had conceived and
which I was eager to execute.
During the night, while my father slept at the foot of a tree, I stole
away with a dark lantern and the gun which he always carried with him.
I hurried in the direction of monseigneur’s château. When I arrived
there, I made piles of sticks, and set fire to the four corners of the
château, taking pains, lest the fire should not burn quickly enough, to
throw blazing brands on the roofs of all the buildings, with particular
attention to the stables.
I soon had the pleasure of seeing that my revenge was complete; the fire
caught in several places and spread rapidly to all the wings of the
château. They sounded the tocsin, the villagers hastened to the spot,
and several of them had the complaisance to throw themselves into the
flames, to save a nobleman who took pleasure in having them beaten. Amid
the confusion and the tumult, I made my way to the private apartments
and found the steward trying to escape, with a little casket which he
held against his breast. I took my stand in front of him and said,
aiming my gun at him:
“Look you, this is to teach you to strike me and kick me!”
I fired, and he fell dead at my feet. I threw my gun away, took
possession of the casket, and leaping from a window with my usual
agility, I fled from the château, which soon presented nothing but a
pile of ruins.
I made haste to return to the place where I had left my father. I was
proud of my revenge and overjoyed to possess a casket which I presumed
to be full of gold. I had always noticed that with gold one could
procure everything and make one’s escape from all dangers.
But what was my surprise not to find my father, whom I supposed to be
still sleeping at the foot of the tree! In vain did I search the whole
neighborhood, calling him at the top of my voice; I had to go on to
another village, uncertain what had become of him. Being uneasy
concerning my treasure, I buried it at the foot of an old oak, after
taking out a few pieces of gold of which the casket was full.
I went to bed at a small inn, thinking justly enough that a child would
not be suspected of setting fire to the château. In fact, little
attention was paid to me; everyone was talking about the terrible
calamity that had happened to the nobleman. Everyone formed conjectures
of his own, but during the day a peasant came in and said that the
guilty party was arrested; he was, so he stated, a former game-keeper in
monseigneur’s service; he had been discharged, and was bitterly incensed
against the steward, whom he presumed to be responsible for his
disgrace. He had set the fire in order to obtain access to his enemy
more easily, for they had found the latter, killed by a rifle shot, and
had recognized the weapon as belonging to the game-keeper.
On hearing that story, I had no doubt that my father had been arrested
in my place; I trembled for him, and having determined to sacrifice
myself to save him, I at once left the inn and started for the village
to which he was to have been taken. I did not stop an instant on the
road, for I felt that minutes were precious; I reached the public square
of the village at last, and saw my father hanging on a gallows.
I abandoned myself, not to grief, for that was not the sensation that I
felt, but to frenzied rage. I would have been glad to be able to set
fire to the village and burn all the inhabitants at once.
At night, I took down my father’s body; I had the strength to carry it
into the forest, where I dug a grave for it; I swore, over his lifeless
remains, to avenge his death and his misfortune upon all mankind, and
never to love those who had unjustly ruined him and put him to death,
although innocent.