Part 20

"Oh, yes! he was dressed just as those whom he has robbed describe him, just as he was when Léodgard saw him: the long olive-green cloak, and the cap bristling with hair---- Ah! the villain!--Look you, messieurs, this is how it happened. I stayed behind longer than I expected after your departure; so that when I started, wishing to make up for lost time and to overtake you the sooner, I walked very rapidly; I lengthened my strides, sometimes cutting across the market gardeners' gardens, and devoting all my thought to keeping my feet out of the holes and ruts and excavations which make such cross cuts extremely dangerous. So it is not surprising that I did not see my robber approaching. However, I think that he must have been hiding behind a tree, for he suddenly blocked my path without my hearing the sound of his footsteps. I was thunderstruck at seeing before me a man whose aspect was so truly frightful, and I instantly put my hand to my sword hilt; but instead of the raucous tones which I expected to hear, it was almost a falsetto voice that said to me:

"'Do not draw your sword, but give me your purse, seigneur; that will be the quickest way.'

"'My purse!' I cried. 'Ah! do you expect to obtain it without striking a blow? I propose to kill you instead of giving you my money.'

"As I spoke, I drew my sword and expected to transfix the robber with ease. But the rascal must be a powerful hand at fence. With two blows of a weapon which he held, he shattered mine; then, throwing me to the ground, he snatched my purse from my belt! Vive Dieu! my purse, which contained two hundred gold pieces! Ah! the gallows bird!--And it was all done so dexterously and so quickly that I was hardly on the ground when it was all over; no purse, no robber--Giovanni had disappeared!--Then it was that I began to shout imprecations, to relieve myself a little. I am not wounded, it is true; but to be beaten and robbed like that by that bandit! It is enough to make a man damn himself!"

The young men were stupefied by what they had heard. Léodgard alone sprang to his feet, crying:

"Damnation! I will not let this opportunity escape. It was on the right-hand side of the road, beyond the bridge, that you were attacked, you said, Montrevert, did you not? It was on the path leading to Vincennes, then?"

"Yes; but what do you mean to do, Léodgard?"

"To avenge you, or rather to avenge us both; for I, like yourself, have been beaten and stripped by Giovanni! But this time I will kill him, or he will kill me!"

"Can you think of such a thing, Léodgard? Pursue that brigand? Why, he must be far away before now! He will not have remained near the scene of his latest exploit."

"Perhaps he will. However, I will go a long distance, if need be; but I will find that man!"

"In that case," said La Valteline, "we will go with you; we will not allow you to run such a risk alone."

"No, messieurs, I beg you, do not come with me; you will make success impossible. If the robber can be surprised, it must be done by cunning. He would hear the footsteps of several people, and that would put him on his guard. Once more, I say, let me make the attempt alone. One man against one man--that is enough; and if I meet my death in this undertaking, do not pity me; at this moment I care very little for life!"

When he had finished speaking, Léodgard ran across the Pont-aux-Choux and disappeared in the darkness.

"Léodgard! Léodgard!" called Beausseilly; "we will wait for you here; we will not move until you return.--I don't know if he heard me."

"What the devil ever put that idea into his head?"

"There is no sense in what he has undertaken to do," said Montrevert; "judging from the address and agility that this Giovanni shows in his attacks, it is inconceivable that he should allow himself to be taken by surprise."

"I agree with you; but Léodgard is intensely excited! He has gambled away all that he possessed--even more. Life has little attraction for him at this moment! Faith! if he meets Giovanni, I fancy that the villain will not come off so cheaply."

"Pardieu!" said Sénange, half rising; "you remind me that the handsome cloak which the count is wearing is my property now, as I won it from him a moment ago at dice. I ought not to have let him go off with it!"

"Ah! Sénange, you are a very pitiless creditor!"

"Look you, if he meets Giovanni, the latter will be the victor, in my opinion; and as he will not find an obolus on Léodgard, he will take his cloak. Would it not be better that I should have it than that brigand?"

"Listen, messieurs! don't you hear a noise?"

"No, nothing."

"Oh! how the time drags! I wish Léodgard would come back."

Ten minutes passed, and with each minute the young men became more anxious; they no longer laughed, they even ceased to talk, for they listened with all their ears.

"Here comes the day," muttered Montrevert, "and Léodgard does not return! I begin to tremble lest he has been the victim of his own boldness."

"Messieurs," said La Valteline, "if he does not return in five minutes, we must go in search of him."

"Yes, yes!"

"Wait--I hear footsteps."

"Bah! it's a peasant going to market; look--you can make her out now on the bridge."

"True; the time for thieves to be abroad has passed."

"Poor Léodgard!"

"Messieurs, see that man walking so fast across the bridge. Ah! this time it is he! it is our friend!"

"Victory! it must be that he has carried the day!"

All the young men ran to meet Léodgard, for it was really he who was approaching. As they drew near him they were struck by his pallor and by the sinister gleam of his eyes, which avoided theirs.

"Well, comte, did you win the fight?"

"Or did you fail to find the brigand?"

"Oh! messieurs, they fought; for, see, Léodgard has blood on his clothes!"

"Ah! Giovanni has ceased to live!"

"You are mistaken," murmured Léodgard, in an altered voice; "it is true that I fought with the brigand; I wounded him, for his blood spurted on me. But it seems that his wound was of trifling consequence, for it did not prevent him from running away, and it was impossible for me to overtake him! He disappeared behind the hedges, and I saw him no more."

"Ah! so much the worse!"

"What a pity!"

"The poor count has nothing to show for his exploit.--Luckily, you are not wounded, are you?"

"No, not at all."

"That is the principal thing, for we were beginning to be very anxious about you!"

"Messieurs, messieurs, it is broad daylight; let us hasten home, or we too shall be taken for robbers."

"Yes, yes, let us go!"

"Are not you coming with us, Léodgard?"

"No, messieurs; I am in no hurry to return to Paris. This adventure, this fight, has tired me; the country air will do me good."

"Au revoir, then!"

"Au revoir!"

The young men walked rapidly away toward the city, while Léodgard slowly crossed the Pont-aux-Choux, glancing furtively behind him from time to time.

XXVII

THE FOSSÉS JAUNES

Valentine de Mongarcin was reclining carelessly on a sofa in her music room. That was her usual place of refuge when she was not with her aunt; but for several days past the study of the zither and mandolin had been abandoned.

The noble heiress had learned from her maid that the little clerk's tales were founded on truth; Miretta had told her what she had learned from Giovanni. From that moment Valentine's lovely features had shown signs of gloomy preoccupation. If a smile sometimes played about her lips, it seemed inspired rather by the hope of vengeance than by one of those agreeable thoughts which usually cause young girls to smile.

Valentine rang a bell, and Miretta soon stood before her.

"Did you do my errand, Miretta? Did you go to the office of my aunt's solicitor?"

"Yes, mademoiselle; I went there this morning. I easily found Maître Bourdinard's office; it is on Rue du Bac. I crossed Pont-Rouge, which, they say, was built not long ago to take the place of the ferry [_bac_] that used to be established there, opposite that street, which took its name therefrom.--Oh! I am beginning to know Paris very well now!"

"Well, did you find that little clerk who came here the other day, and to whom I owe such--such valuable discoveries?"

"Monsieur Bahuchet? No, mademoiselle, he was not at the office; but there were several other clerks, who stared at me so insolently that I was very much embarrassed. When I asked for Monsieur Bahuchet, all the scribblers began to laugh; and they made some very coarse jests among themselves, which brought the blood to my cheeks.

"'Ah! you want to see Bahuchet, do you?' they said; 'ah! it is that villain, that seducer of a Bahuchet, whom you want to see?--On my word, he's a lucky rascal!--It seems that you don't go in for height, or for physique!--Who would believe that such a pygmy would be picked out by such a pretty girl?--I say, when you take his arm, you must tower above him! and if he doesn't walk fast enough to suit you, you can easily take him under your arm and carry him; he weighs only thirty-three pounds and a half.'

"To put an end to all this nonsense, I said loudly:

"'Messieurs, I wish to see Monsieur Bahuchet in behalf of Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin, who is my mistress, and who desires to speak with him.'

"Ah! mademoiselle, you should have seen what a change took place in the office when they heard your name! All the clerks assumed a most sedate air, and the jests instantly came to an end; they became very polite, and one of them, who, when he took off his cap to salute me, showed a head prematurely bald, said: 'Mademoiselle, Bahuchet is out, on business for the master, and he will not return for an hour at the earliest. But if mademoiselle your mistress wishes to speak with Bahuchet on business, one of us might take his place; myself, for example, Eudoxe Plumard; I am ready to go at once to the Hôtel de Mongarcin. Unless you prefer to speak to the solicitor himself; but he is not in, he has just mounted his mule to go to the Palais.'

"I answered that it was about a matter with which Monsieur Bahuchet was already familiar, and that, for that reason, you desired to speak with him personally. Thereupon they promised to send him to you as soon as he returned.

"'But,' added the clerk who called himself Plumard, 'don't expect him very early; for when Bahuchet goes out, it is always an eternity before he comes back.'

"And that, mademoiselle, is the result of my visit to the solicitor's office."

"Very well," said Valentine, apparently lost in thought. After a few moments, she added: "Is it a long while, Miretta, since you have been to see your acquaintance the bath keeper's daughter on Rue Saint-Jacques?"

"No, mademoiselle, not more than a week."

"Did you ask her about--about her friend, the other bath keeper's daughter?"

"Yes, mademoiselle; I asked her if she had seen her lately. She answered that, as Bathilde's mother had returned, she could see her only very rarely. And when I tried to question her further on the subject, she abruptly changed the conversation. Which led me to think that, if she is in her friend's confidence, she does not propose to betray her secret."

"A fine secret, on my word! which must be known ere this to the whole city, except perhaps those who are most deeply interested in it; but it is always so.--At what time were you on Rue du Bac, Miretta?"

"At half-past ten, mademoiselle."

"And it is now?"

"After twelve."

"Well, we must wait until it pleases Monsieur Bahuchet to return to his desk. Really, these solicitors are very patient with messieurs their clerks! Go, Miretta; and as soon as the fellow arrives at the house, bring him hither yourself--instantly! Above all things, do not let my aunt know anything of all this!"

"Never fear, mademoiselle; in fact, Madame de Ravenelle is at this moment shut up in her oratory, and she is paying little heed to what goes on in the house."

The clock on the Capucines Church, which could be heard at the Hôtel de Mongarcin, struck four. Valentine had been for a long time in a state of the most intense impatience; she could not stay in one place; she wandered hither and thither; took up a book and threw it down again in a moment; attempted to play on her zither, but let the instrument fall from her hands; and exclaimed continually:

"He will not come! Four o'clock, and he went out early this morning! And a solicitor keeps such clerks in his employ! Ah! how quickly I would dismiss such fellows if I were in his place!--Suppose I should intrust to Miretta the execution of my plan? But, no! no woman can perform such a commission; besides, she is in my service--she would be recognized, and I do not want to be compromised; I want to be revenged! but in such wise that no one will know from what quarter the vengeance comes."

Valentine had abandoned all hope of seeing the solicitor's clerk that day, when the door of the room in which she was sitting was suddenly thrown open, and Miretta announced:

"Monsieur Bahuchet."

At a sign from her mistress she admitted the little man, who confounded himself in reverences to Mademoiselle de Mongarcin.

"Here you are at last, monsieur! that is most fortunate!" cried Valentine; "it seems that it is very difficult to have speech with you.--Stay, Miretta, stay; I have no secrets from you, as you know.--When you go out for an hour, monsieur le clerc, does it mean that you will not return during the day?"

"A thousand pardons, mademoiselle!" replied Bahuchet, trying to assume a graceful attitude; "most certainly, if I had known, if I had been able to guess, that mademoiselle wished to speak with me, I would have returned to the office much sooner; and yet, mademoiselle, I am very excusable this time. I did not pass my time, as I often do, watching the open-air exhibitions of Turlupin and Gauthier-Garguille, or Brioché's Marionettes. No, indeed! The news was too interesting to-day; it had to do with so serious an event, accompanied by such mysterious circumstances, that--I give you my word, mademoiselle--the least inquisitive man could not have resisted the desire to see what I saw."

"Some new amourette, I suppose? some nocturnal rendezvous that you surprised?"

"No, mademoiselle; this is no question of amourettes, but of a murder committed last night. When I say _last night_, I am wrong; it was perhaps a fortnight ago, perhaps longer; but the victim was not discovered until last night."

"A murder! and you witnessed it?"

"No, thank God! When I say _thank God_, I do not mean that I am not very curious to know how it came about. But, no, although I am very brave, there are things that make one shudder simply to think of them!"

"Come, monsieur, pray explain to us what you have learned that is so shocking?"

"Mademoiselle, I had been as far as the corner of Rue Barbette on business for the office; I was about to return to Maître Bourdinard's, planning, I admit, to go by way of Pont-Neuf, for I know no more attractive, more diverting spot for the curious observer. It is the rendezvous of the whole city! Who does not cross Pont-Neuf? One sees there at the same moment, soldiers, bourgeois, priests, students, abbés, courtiers, pages, peasants, and women!"

"Do you propose to tell us the history of Pont-Neuf, Monsieur Bahuchet?"

"No, mademoiselle, no; excuse me. My story has to do with a much less cheerful bridge, the dismal Pont-aux-Choux!"

At the mention of the Pont-aux-Choux, Miretta involuntarily shuddered and listened more closely to what the little clerk said.

"Yes, mademoiselle; it was close by the Pont-aux-Choux that the horrible tragedy, which was discovered only this morning, took place.--I was saying--where was I?--Oh, yes! I was about to return to my solicitor's office, when, as I was taking a glass in a wine shop, I heard a peasant say to a good woman--I say a good woman, she may have been a bad one, but it's the custom, you know, to say _good woman_ when you are speaking of a woman advanced in years--he said: 'Yes, mother, there has been someone murdered on the road I take from Faubourg Saint-Antoine to the Market. And I tell you, it isn't very pleasant; I don't know yet whether I shall dare to go across Pont-aux-Choux after dark.'

"My curiosity being aroused at that, I accosted the peasant and asked him what he meant, and he answered:

"'About two hours ago, they found in the Fossés Jaunes----'"

"What are the Fossés Jaunes, Monsieur Bahuchet?" said Valentine; "I am very ignorant, am I not? but we are taught so few things!"

"The Fossés Jaunes, mademoiselle, were made in the time of King Charles V, and they surrounded the outer wall of Paris that was built long ago, in the time of Philippe-Auguste; they extend from the Bastille to Porte Saint-Honoré."

"Are they filled with water?"

"There used to be water in them, no doubt, mademoiselle, but for a long time they have contained nothing but muddy pools, in which very tall grass grows, and from which it isn't at all easy to get out if you happen to fall in. But as they are no longer of any use, I presume they will very soon be filled up.--I resume my narrative. The peasant said:

"'They found a dead man in the Fossés Jaunes, near Porte Saint-Antoine, on the other side of the Pont-aux-Choux. From the condition of his wounds, they know that he must have been killed quite a while ago; consequently, no one knows just when the crime was committed. And to think that I went by there at three o'clock in the morning, monsieur! Suppose the brigands had seen me! No doubt they would have murdered me too!'

"'But,' I said to the peasant, 'as you passed the place at three o'clock this morning, how do you know that they found a dead man there two hours ago? Have you been back there?'

"'No; but I just heard about it from a neighbor, a market gardener like myself, who just came from the faubourg. He saw the poor fellow they had taken out of the Fossés Jaunes; it seems he is a young man, and as handsome as a picture! He is still lying there at full length on the bank. Near the place where they found him, there are archers and soldiers keeping watch; and they have gone to tell the magistrates, who will make an investigation, of course, and search the neighborhood, and try to find something to put them on the track of the guilty ones.'

"I' faith, mademoiselle, I no sooner heard that than I felt a most intense longing to see the unfortunate man, who was found last night in the Fossés Jaunes. And I said to myself: 'If they need the magistrates, they may need a solicitor's clerk too; I must go and see the man, and then I can tell the whole story _de visu_!'

"So I took my legs around my neck--the phrase is still in use, although it lacks sense--and I can assure you that I ran without stopping, although I overturned two children, an ass, and a milkwoman on the way; but that is a detail.

"When I arrived at the Pont-aux-Choux, someone pointed out the spot where the poor young man still lay. I hurried to the place, and I was not the only one whom curiosity had drawn thither; there was a large crowd, and the soldiers had much ado to keep a space clear about the corpse. But as I am never at a loss for an expedient, I said to one of the guards that I was a clerk and employed in the magistracy, so he let me go near."

"So that you saw the man who was found dead?" said Miretta, in a voice trembling with emotion.

"Yes, my pretty lady's-maid, I saw it as plainly as I see you.--Ah! what a calamity! It was a young man--that is to say, a man of twenty-seven or twenty-eight at most, with a graceful figure, very well built, and a face--oh! a fascinating face! so refined and distinguished! He must have been a nobleman, or a gentleman of some ancient family."

"He was not disfigured, then, not wounded in the face?"

"Not a scratch! A surgeon who was there, with the lieutenant of police--for the lieutenant had come in person to examine the victim--the surgeon said, after looking at the wounds:

"'This young man was struck from behind, evidently when he was seated; he received a sword thrust in the back, which went completely through his body, and then another in the heart; but the latter when he had already fallen to the ground and lost consciousness. There cannot have been any struggle; death must have been instantaneous, and the unfortunate man had no time to defend himself.'"

"But did no one recognize the young man?" said Valentine; "his rank or his profession must have been indicated by his clothing. Did the lieutenant of police discover anything to put him on the track?"

"Mon Dieu! mademoiselle, it was very difficult to guess. In the first place, the victim had been robbed of his cloak and hat and belt. The poor young man had nothing on him but his doublet and short-clothes, both of black cloth, and boots of a very common sort. But there was nothing in his pockets--neither money, nor papers, nor weapons; absolutely nothing! How is it possible, then, to guess who he is?--The lieutenant of police, after a careful examination of the body and the clothes, said:

"'Evidently this young gentleman had just arrived in Paris, for we do not remember having seen him before. He must have been attacked and robbed by Giovanni, who took his money, his papers, his weapons, and even a part of his clothes. Yes, such a crime can have been committed by none but that bold Italian, who then hurled the body of his victim into the moat, so that this latest crime might be less quickly discovered.'"

"Giovanni!" cried Miretta; "always Giovanni! As soon as a murder is committed, everyone agrees to charge it to his account! What is there to prove that it was he who killed this young man?"

"Hoity-toity! here is the little brunette defending the robber again!" exclaimed Bahuchet, with a laugh. "Really, my dear, I begin to think that you are one of his band!"

Miretta flushed crimson.

"I say that," she faltered, "because people tell so many lies, and invent so many stories that----"

"Mon Dieu! you do not need to justify yourself!" said Valentine, smiling at her.--"But is that all, Monsieur Bahuchet? Is your terrible story at an end?"

"Yes, mademoiselle, that is all. The lieutenant of police has had a search made in the neighborhood, hoping that something might be found belonging to the victim; but what is the use of searching now, when the crime was committed perhaps three weeks ago? If it had not been for a dog, nothing would have been discovered! But those excellent beasts are often much cleverer and more cunning than we are, and they have a most astonishing scent! This one stopped on the edge of the Fossés Jaunes, and his master called him in vain--he would not budge. As such persistence on the dog's part seemed very strange, his master went to him to find out what he was doing. By peering intently into the high grass in the moat, he finally discovered something that looked like a man's arm; he ran for a ladder, and they found the unfortunate victim. But that was all; for they have not succeeded in finding anything in the fields round about, or in the moat where the poor young man lay! Doubtless he was coming to Paris for enjoyment and diversion, and he met death before he had put his foot in the city.--But so it goes!"

"I am very, very sorry for the poor fellow who perished so miserably!" said Valentine; "but I did not know him; and as I can do nothing to avenge him, you will allow me, Monsieur Bahuchet, to turn my attention now to the subject that led me to ask you to call here."

"I am listening, mademoiselle; I am entirely at your service; I desired simply to prove to you that if I returned late to the office, I was not without some excuse. That idiot of a Plumard began at once to make remarks!"

"Enough, monsieur!--Listen: I expect a service from you. Are you disposed to oblige me, and, above all things, never to say a word which may lead anyone to suspect that you have acted by my orders?"