The attack was so rapid, unexpected, and powerful, that Rodolph could neither foresee nor avoid it. The Chouette, alarmed, uttered a piercing shriek; for at the first moment she had not seen the result of the struggle. When the noise of Rodolph's body rolling down the steps had ceased, the Schoolmaster, who knew all the ways and windings of the underground vaults in the place, went down the stairs slowly, listening as he went.
"Fourline, be on your guard," cried the beldam, leaning over the opening of the trap; "draw your 'pinking iron.'"
The brigand disappeared without any reply. For a time nothing was heard, but at the end of a few moments the distant noise of a door shutting, which creaked on its rusty hinges, sounded harshly in the depths of the cavern; then all was again still as death. The darkness was complete. The Chouette fumbled in her basket, and then, producing a lucifer-match, lighted a wax taper, whose feeble ray made visible the darkness of this dreary den.
At this moment the monster-visage of the Schoolmaster appeared at the opening of the trap. The Chouette could not repress an exclamation of horror at the sight of his ghastly, seamed, mutilated, and fearful face, with eyes that gleamed like phosphorus, and seemed to glare on the ground even in the midst of the darkness which the lighted taper could not entirely dissipate. Having subdued her feeling of fright, the old hag exclaimed, in a tone of horrible flattery:
"You must be an awful man, fourline, for even I was frightened! – yes, I!"
"Quick, quick, for the Allée des Veuves!" said the ruffian, securely closing the double flap of the trap with a bar of iron. "In another hour, perhaps, it will be too late. If it is a trap, it is not yet baited; if it is not, why, we can do the job alone."
CHAPTER XV
THE VAULT
Stunned by his horrible fall, Rodolph lay senseless and motionless at the bottom of the stairs, down which he had been hurled. The Schoolmaster, dragging him to the entrance of a second and still deeper cavern, thrust him into its hideous recesses, and closing and securely bolting a massy iron-shod door, returned to his worthy confederate, the Chouette, who was waiting to join him in the proposed robbery (it might be murder) in the Allée des Veuves.
About the end of an hour Rodolph began, though slowly, to resume his consciousness. He found himself extended on the ground, in the midst of thick darkness; he extended his hand and touched the stone stairs descending to the vault; a sensation of extreme cold about his feet induced him to endeavour, by feeling the ground, to ascertain the cause: his fingers dabbled in a pool of water.
With a violent effort he contrived to seat himself on the lower step of the staircase; the giddiness arising from his fall subsided by degrees, and as he became able to extend his limbs he found, to his great joy, that, though severely shaken and contused, no bones were broken. He listened: the only sound that reached his ear was a low, dull, pattering, but continued noise, of which he was then far from divining the cause.
As his senses became more clear, so did the circumstances, to which he had been the unfortunate victim, return to his imagination; and just as he had recalled each particular, and was deeply considering the possible result of the whole, he became aware that his feet were wholly submerged in water; it had, indeed, risen above his ankle.
In the midst of the heavy gloom and deep silence which surrounded him, he heard still the same dull, trickling sound he had observed before; and now the matter was clear to him. Now, indeed, he comprehended all the horrors of his situation: the cave was filling with water, arising from the fearful and formidable overflowing of the Seine, – the dungeon in which he had been thrown was doubtless beneath the level of the river, and was chosen by his gaolers for that purpose, as offering a slow though certain means of destruction.
The conviction of his danger recalled Rodolph entirely to himself. Quick as lightning he made his way up the damp, slippery stairs; arrived at the top, he came in contact with a thick door; he tried in vain to open it, – its massy hinges resisted his most vigorous efforts to force them.
At this moment of despair and danger, his first thought was for Murphy. "If he be not on his guard, those monsters will murder him!" cried he. "It will be I who shall have caused his death, – my good, my faithful Murphy!" This cruel thought nerved the arm of Rodolph with fresh vigour, and again he bent his most powerful energy to endeavour to force the ponderous door. Alas! the thickly plated iron with which it was covered mocked his utmost efforts; and sore, weary, and exhausted, he was compelled to relinquish the fruitless task. Again he descended into the cave, in hopes of obtaining something which might serve as a lever to force the hinges or wrench the fastenings. Groping against the slimy walls, he felt himself continually treading on some sort of round elastic bodies, which appeared to slip from under his feet, and to scramble for safety past him. They were rats, driven by the fast-rising water from their retreats. Groping about the place on all fours, with the water half way up his leg, Rodolph felt in all directions for the weapon he so much desired to find; nothing but the damp walls met his touch, however, and, in utter despair, he resumed his position at the top of the steps, – of the thirteen stairs which composed the flight, three were already under water.
Thirteen had ever been Rodolph's unlucky number. There are moments when the strongest minds are under the influence of superstitious ideas, and, at this juncture, Rodolph viewed the fatal amount of stairs as an ill augury. Again the possible fate of Murphy recurred to him, and, as if inspired by a fresh hope, he eagerly felt around the door to discover some slight chink, or opening, by which his cries for help might be heard. In vain; the dampness of the soil had swollen the wood, and joined it hermetically to the wet, slimy earth.
Rodolph next tried the powers of his voice, and shouted with the fullest expansion of his lungs, trusting that his cries for assistance might reach the adjoining cabaret; and then, tired and exhausted, sat down to listen. Nothing was to be heard, no sound disturbed the deep silence which reigned, but the drop, drop, drop, the dull, trickling, monotonous bubbling of the fast-increasing waters.
His last hope extinguished, Rodolph seated himself in gloomy despair, and, leaning his back against the door, bewailed the perilous situation of his faithful friend, – perhaps at that very moment struggling beneath the assassin's knife. Bitterly did he then regret his rash and venturesome projects, however good and generous the motives by which he had been instigated; and severely did he reproach himself for having taken advantage of the devotion of Murphy, who, rich, honoured, and esteemed by all who knew him, had quitted a beloved wife and child, to assist Rodolph in the bold undertaking he had imposed on himself.
During these sorrowful reflections, the water was still rising rapidly, and five steps only now remained dry. Rodolph now found himself compelled to assume a standing position, though, in so doing, his forehead was brought in close contact with the very top of the vault. He calculated the probable duration of his mortal agony, – of the period which must elapse ere this slow, inch-like death would put a period to his misery; he bethought him of the pistol he carried with him, and, at the risk of injuring himself in the attempt, he determined to fire it off against the door, so as to disturb some of the fastenings by the concussion; but here, again, a disappointment awaited him, – the pistol was nowhere to be found, and he could but conclude it had fallen from his pocket during his struggle with the Schoolmaster. But for his deep concern on Murphy's account, Rodolph would have met his death unmoved, – his conscience acquitted him of all intentional offence; nay, it solaced him with the recollection of good actually performed, and much more meditated. To the decrees of an all-wise and inscrutable Providence he resigned himself, and humbly accepted his present punishment as the just reward for a criminal action as yet unexpiated.
A fresh trial of his fortitude awaited him. The rats, still pursued by the fast-gathering waters, finding no other means of escape, sought refuge from one step to another, ascending as fast as the rising flood rendered their position untenable; unable to scale the perpendicular walls or doors, they availed themselves of the vestments of Rodolph, whose horror and disgust rose to an indescribable degree, as he felt their cold, clammy paws, and wet, hairy bodies, crawling or clinging to him; in his attempts to repulse them, their sharp, cold bite inflicted on him a most acute agony, while his face and hands streamed with blood, from the multitude of wounds received. Again he called for help, shouted aloud, and almost screamed in his pain and wretchedness. Alas! the dull echo of the vault and the gurgling waters alone replied. A few short moments, and he would be bereft even of the power of calling upon God or man to help him; the rapidly rising flood had now reached his very throat, and ere long would have ascended to his lips.
The choked air began, too, to fail in the narrow space now left it, and the first symptoms of asphyxia began to oppress Rodolph; the arteries of his temples beat violently, his head became giddy, and the faint sickness of death seemed to make his chest heave convulsively. Already were the waters gurgling in his ears; a dizziness of sight and a confusion of ideas had well-nigh deprived him of all powers of sight or sound; the last glimmer of reason was well-nigh shaken from her throne, when hasty steps and the sound of voices on the other side of the door were heard.
Hope recalled his expiring strength, and, making one powerful effort, Rodolph was able to distinguish the following words, after which all consciousness forsook him:
"Did I not tell you so? There, you see there is no one here!"
"Deuce take it! no more there is," replied the voice of the Chourineur, in a tone of vexation and disappointment. And the sounds died away.
Rodolph, utterly exhausted, had no longer power to sustain himself; his limbs sunk from under him, and he slid unresistingly down the stone steps.
All at once the door of the vault was abruptly opened from the other side, and the swelling masses contained in the inner vault, glad to find a further outlet, rushed onwards as though bursting through the gates of a sluice, and the Chourineur, whose opportune return shall be accounted for by and by, seized the two arms of Rodolph, who, half dead, had mechanically clung to the threshold of the door, and bore him from the black and rushing waters which had nigh proved his grave.
CHAPTER XVI
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 – '"
"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 – '"