THE EMETIC.
Rapid as was Maillard's gait, he could not catch up with his quarry,
who had three things in his favor, namely: ten minutes' start, the
darkness, and the number of passengers on the Carrousel, in the thick
of whom he disappeared.
But when he got out upon the Tuileries quay, the ex-usher kept on, for
he lived in the working-quarter, and it was not out of his way home to
keep to the water-side.
A great concourse was upon the bridges, flocking to the open space
before the Palace of Justice, where the dead were laid out for
identification, and people sought for their dear ones, with hope, or,
rather, fear.
Maillard followed the crowd.
At a corner there he had a friend in a druggist, or apothecary, as
they said in those days. He dropped in there, sat down, and chatted of
what had gone on, while the surgeons rushed in and about to get the
materials they wanted for the injured; for among the corpses a moan,
a scream, or palpable breathing showed that some wretch still lived,
and he was hauled out and carried to the great hospital, after rough
dressing.
So there was a great hubbub in the worthy chemist's store; but Maillard
was not in the way; on such occasions they were delighted to see a
patriot of the degree of a hero of the Bastile, who was balm itself to
the lovers of liberty.
He had been there upward of a quarter of an hour, with his long legs
tucked well under him and taking up as little room as possible, when
a woman, of the age of thirty-eight or so, came in. Under the garb of
most abject poverty, she preserved a vestige of former opulence, and a
bearing of studied aristocracy, if not natural.
But what particularly struck Maillard was her marked likeness to the
queen; he would have cried out with amaze but for his having great
presence of mind. She held a little boy by the hand, and came up to the
counter with an odd timidity, veiling the wretchedness of her garments
as much as she could, though that was the more manifest from her taking
extreme care of her face and her hands.
For some time it was impossible for her to make herself heard owing to
the uproar; but at last she addressed the master of the establishment,
saying:
"Please, sir, I want an emetic for my husband, who is ill."
"What sort do you want, citizeness?" asked the dispenser of drugs.
"Any sort, as long as it does not cost more than eleven cents."
This exact amount struck Maillard, for it will be remembered that
eleven coppers were the findings in Beausire's pockets.
"Why should it not cost more than that?" inquired the chemist.
"Because that is all the small change my man could give me."
"Put up some tartar emetic," said the apothecary to an assistant, "and
give it to the citizeness."
He turned to attend to other demands while the assistant made up the
powder. But Maillard, who had nothing to do to distract his attention,
concentrated all his wits on the woman who had but eleven cents.
"There you are, citizeness; here's your physic," said the drug clerk.
"Now, then, Toussaint," said the woman, with a drawl habitual to her,
"give the gentleman the eleven cents, my boy."
"There it is," replied the boy, putting the pile of coppers on the
counter. "Come home quick, Mamma Oliva, for papa is waiting."
He tried to drag her away, repeating, "Why don't you come quick? Papa
is in such a hurry."
"Hi! hold on, citizeness!" cried the budding druggist; "you have only
given me nine cents."
"What do you mean by only nine?" exclaimed the woman.
"Why, look here; you can reckon for yourself."
The woman did so, and saw there were just nine.
"What have you done with the other two coins, you wicked boy?" she
asked.
"Me not know nothing about 'em," whimpered the child. "Do come home,
Mamma Oliva!"
"You must know, for I let you carry the money."
"I must have lost 'em. But come along home," whined the boy.
"You have a bewitching little fellow there, citizeness," remarked
Maillard; "he appears sharp-witted, but you will have to take care lest
he become a thief."
"How dare you, sir!--a thief?" cried the woman called Oliva. "Why do
you say such a thing, I should like to know?"
"Only because he has not lost the two cents, but hid them in his shoe."
"Me?" retorted the boy. "What a lie!"
"In the left shoe, citizeness--in the left," said Maillard.
In spite of the yell of young Toussaint, Mme. Oliva took off his left
shoe and found the coppers in it. She handed them to the apothecary's
clerk, and dragged away the urchin with threats of punishment which
would have appeared terrible to the by-standers, if they had not
been accompanied by soft words which no doubt sprung from maternal
affection. Unimportant as the incident was in itself, it certainly
would have passed without comment amid the surrounding grave
circumstances, if the resemblance of the heroine to the queen had not
impressed the witness. The result of his pondering over this was that
he went up to his friend in drugs, and said to him, in a respite from
trade:
"Did you not notice the likeness of that woman who just went out to--"
"The queen?" said the other, laughing.
"Yes; so you remarked it the same as I?"
"Oh, ever so long ago. It is a matter of history."
"I do not understand."
"Do you not remember the celebrated trial of 'The Queen's Necklace'?"
"Oh, you must not put such a question to an usher of the law courts--he
could not forget that."
"Well, you must recall one Nicole Legay, _alias_ Oliva."
"Oh, of course; you are right. She played herself as the queen upon the
Prince Cardinal Rohan."
"While she was living with a discharged soldier, a bully and
card-cheat, a spy and recruiter, named Beausire."
"What do you say?" broke out Maillard, as though snake-bitten.
"A rogue named Beausire," repeated the druggist.
"Is it he whom she styles her husband?" asked Maillard.
"Yes."
"And for whom she came to get the physic?"
"The rascal has been drinking too hard."
"An emetic?" continued Maillard, as one on the track of an important
secret and did not wish to be turned astray.
"A vomitory--yes."
"By Jupiter, I have nailed my man!" exclaimed the visitor.
"What man?"
"The man who had only eleven cents--Captain de Beausire, in short. That
is, if I knew where he lives."
"Well, I know if you do not; it is close by, No. 6 Juiverie Street."
"Then I am not astonished at young Beausire stealing two cents from his
mother, for he is the son of the cheat."
"No cheat there--his living likeness."
"A chip of the old block. My dear friend," continued Maillard,
"straight as a die, how long does your dose take to operate?"
"Immediately after taking; but these fellows fight shy of medicine. He
will play fast and loose before he takes it, and his wife will have to
make a cup of soup to wash the taste out of his mouth."
"You mean I may have time to do what I have to do?"
"I hope so; you seem to feel great interest in our Captain Beausire?"
"So much so that, for fear he will be very bad, I am going to get a
couple of male nurses for him."
Leaving the drug store with a silent laugh, the only one he indulged
in, Maillard hurried back to the Tuileries.
Pitou was absent, for we know he was attending on the Countess of
Charny, but Lieutenant Maniquet was guarding the post. They recognized
each other.
"Well, Citizen Maillard, did you overtake the fellow?" asked Maniquet.
"No; but I am on his track."
"Faith, it is a blessing; for though we did not find the diamonds on
the knave, somehow I am ready to bet that he has them."
"Make the bet, citizen, and you will win," said the usher.
"Good; and can we help you catch him?"
"You can."
"In what way, Citizen Maillard? We are under your orders."
"I want a couple of honest men."
"You can take at random, then. Boulanger and Molicar, step out this
way."
That was all the usher desired; and with the two soldiers of Haramont
he proceeded at the double-quick to the residence of Beausire.
In the house they were guided by the cries of young Toussaint, still
suffering from a correction, not maternal, as Papa Beausire, on account
of the gravity of the misdemeanor, had deemed it his duty to intervene
and add some cuffs from his hard hand to the gentle slap which Oliva
had administered much against her will with her softer one to her
beloved offspring.
The door was locked.
"In the name of the law, open!" called out Maillard.
A conversation in a low voice ensued, during which young Toussaint was
hushed, as he thought that the abstraction of the two cents from his
mother was a heinous crime for which Justice had risen in her wrath;
while Beausire, who attributed it to the domiciliary visits, tried
to tranquilize Oliva, though he was not wholly at his ease. He had,
moreover, gulped down the tartar as soon as he had chastised his son.
Mme. Beausire had to take her course, and she opened the door just as
Maillard was going to knock for a second time.
The three men entered, to the great terror of Oliva and Master
Toussaint, who ran to hide under a ragged straw-bottomed chair.
Beausire had thrown himself on the bed, and Maillard had the
satisfaction of seeing by the light of a cheap candle smoking in
an iron holder that the physic paper was flat and empty on the
night-table. The potion was swallowed, and they had only to abide the
effects.
On the march, Maillard had related to the volunteers what had happened,
so that they were fully cognizant of the state of matters.
"Citizens," he restricted himself to saying, "Captain Beausire is
exactly like that princess in the Arabian Nights' Entertainment,
who never spoke unless compelled, but who, whenever she opened her
mouth, let fall a diamond. Do not, therefore, let Beausire spit out
a word unless learning what it contains. I will wait for you at the
Municipality offices. When the gentleman has nothing more to say to
you, take him to the Chatelet Prison, where you will say Citizen
Maillard sent him for safe keeping, and you will join me at the City
Hall with what he shall have delivered."
The National Guards nodded in token of passive obedience, and placed
themselves with Beausire between them. The apothecary had given good
measure for eleven cents, and the effect of the emetic was most
satisfactory.
About three in the morning, Maillard saw his two soldiers coming to
him. They brought a hundred thousand francs' worth of diamonds of the
purest water, wrapped in a copy of the prison register, stating that
Beausire was under ward and lock. In his name and the two Haramontese,
Maillard placed the gems in charge of the Commune attorney, who gave
them a certificate that they had deserved the thanks of the country.