The Mysteries Of Paris Volume Iv Part 54

And Sarah, sitting in an armchair before the writing-table, took up a pen, and made a sign to the Chouette to come close to her. The old wretch's one eye sparkled. At last she was standing up, close to the seat on which Sarah was sitting, and, stooping over a table, was preparing to write.

"I will read aloud, and then," said the countess, "you can correct any mistakes."

"Yes, madame," replied the Chouette, narrowly watching every motion of Sarah; and she furtively introduced her hand into her basket, that she might be able to grasp the poniard without being observed.

The countess commenced writing.

"I declare that--"

Then interrupting herself, and turning towards the Chouette, who was at the moment touching the handle of her poniard, Sarah added:

"At what period was the child brought to you?"

"In the month of February, 1827."

"And by whom?" continued Sarah, turning towards the Chouette.

"By Pierre Tournemine, now at the galleys at Rochefort. It was Madame Seraphin, the notary's housekeeper, who brought the young girl to him."

The countess continued writing, and then read aloud:

"I declare that, in the month of February, 1827, a person named--"

The Chouette had drawn the poniard; already had she raised her arm to strike her victim between the shoulders; Sarah turned again. The Chouette, that she might not be off her guard, leaned her right hand, armed as it was, on the back of Sarah's armchair, and then stooped towards her, as if in att.i.tude to reply to her question.

"Tell me again the name of the man who handed the child to you?" said the countess.

"Pierre Tournemine," repeated Sarah, as she wrote it down, "at this time at the galleys of Rochefort, brought me a child, which had been confided to him by the housekeeper of--"

The countess could not finish. The Chouette having got rid of her basket by allowing it to slide from her arm onto the floor, threw herself on the countess with equal fury and rapidity; and having grasped the back of her neck with her left hand, forced her face down on the table, and then with her right hand drove the stiletto in between her two shoulders.

This atrocious a.s.sa.s.sination was so promptly effected that the countess did not utter a cry--a moan. Still sitting, she remained with her head and the front of her body on the table. Her pen fell from her fingers.

"Just the very blow which _fourline_ gave the little old man in the Rue du Roule!" said the monster. "One more who will never wag tongue again!

Her account is settled!" And the Chouette, gathering up the jewels together, huddled them into her basket, not perceiving that her victim still breathed.

The murder and robbery effected, the horrid old devil opened the gla.s.s door, ran swiftly along the tree-covered path, went out by the small side door, and reached the lone tract of ground. Near the Observatory she took a hackney-coach, which drove her to Bras-Rouge's in the Champs Elysees.

The widow Martial, Nicholas, Calabash, and Barbillon had, as we know, an appointment with the Chouette in this den of infamy, in order to rob and murder the diamond-matcher.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE AGENT OF SAFETY.

The reader already knows the Bleeding Heart in the Champs Elysees, near the Court de la Reine, in one of the deep ditches which, a few years since, were close to this promenade. The inhabitants of the Isle du Ravageur had not yet arrived.

After the departure of Bradamanti, who had, as we know, accompanied Madame d'Harville's stepmother into Normandy, Tortillard had returned to his father. Placed as a sentinel at the top of the staircase, the little cripple was to announce the arrival of the Martials by a certain cry, Bras-Rouge being at this moment in secret conference with an _agent-de-surete_ named Narcisse Borel, whom the reader may perchance remember to have seen at the _tapis-franc_ of the ogress, when he came there to arrest two miscreants accused of murder.

This agent, a man about forty years of age, was thickset and powerful, with a high colour, a keen, quick eye, his face entirely shaven, in order that he might better a.s.sume the various disguises necessary for his dangerous expeditions; for it was frequently necessary for him to unite the transformations of the actor to the courage and energy of the soldier, in order to seize on certain ruffians with whom he had to contend in cunning and determination. Narcisse Borel was, in a word, one of the most useful and most active instruments of that providence on a small scale which is modestly and commonly termed the police.

We will return to the conversation between Narcisse Borel and Bras-Rouge, which appeared to be very animated.

"Yes," said the agent of safety; "you are accused of profiting by your double-faced position, and of taking with impunity a share in the booty of a band of most dangerous malefactors, and then giving false information respecting them to the protective police. Take care, Bras-Rouge; for if you are detected no mercy will be shown you!"

"Alas! I know I am accused of this; and it is very distressing for me, my good M. Narcisse," replied Bras-Rouge, whilst his weasel's face a.s.sumed a hypocritical air of vexation. "But I hope that this day will at last do me justice, and my good faith will be recognised."

"That remains to be proved."

"How can I be distrusted--have I not given proofs? Was it I or was it not who, at the time, enabled you to apprehend Ambroise Martial, one of the most dangerous malefactors in Paris, in the very fact?"

"All this is very fine and good; but Ambroise was warned they were going to arrest him, and if I had not been earlier than the hour you told me of, he would have escaped."

"Do you think me capable, M. Narcisse, of having secretly told him of your coming?"

"I only know that I received from the scoundrel a pistol-shot aimed full at me, but which, fortunately, only grazed my arm."

"Why, to be sure, M. Narcisse, in your profession you must be occasionally exposed to such mistakes!"

"Ah, you call these mistakes, eh?"

"Certainly; for, no doubt, the wicked fellow intended to lodge the ball in your body."

"In the arm, body, or head, no matter, I don't complain of that; every profession has its disagreeables."

"And its pleasures, too, M. Narcisse, and its pleasures. For instance, when a man as cunning, as skilful, and as courageous as you, has been for a long time on the track of a gang of villains, whom he follows from quarter to quarter, from lurking-place to lurking-place, with a good bloodhound like your poor servant to command, Bras-Rouge, and, finally, marks them down and comes upon them in a trap from which not one of them can escape, why, then, you must say, M. Narcisse, that there is great pleasure in it,--the joy of a sportsman,--not including the service he renders to justice!" added the host of the Bleeding Heart, with a grave air.

"I should fully agree with you if the bloodhound were faithful, but I fear it is not."

"Ah, M. Narcisse, you think--"

"I think that, instead of putting us on the track, you amuse yourself with setting us on a false scent, and abuse the confidence placed in you. Every day you promise to aid us to lay hands on the gang, and that day never arrives."

"What if the day arrives to-day, M. Narcisse, as I am sure it will? What if I bring together in a parcel Barbillon, Nicholas Martial, the widow, her daughter, and the Chouette? Will that or will it not be a good sweep of the net? Will you then mistrust me any longer?"

"No; and you will have rendered a real service; for there are very strong presumptive facts against this gang,--suspicions almost a.s.sured, but, unfortunately, no proofs."

"So, then, a small f.a.g-end of actual crime, which would allow of their being apprehended, would help amazingly to unravel the difficult skein,--eh, M. Narcisse?"

"Most decidedly. And you a.s.sure me that there has not been the slightest incitement on your part towards the _coup_ which they are now going to attempt?"

"No, on my honour! It is the Chouette, who came to me to propose inveigling the diamond-matcher here when that infernal hag learned from my son that Morel, the lapidary, who lives in the Rue du Temple, was a workman in real stones, and not in false, and that Mother Mathieu had frequently considerable value about her person, I acceded to the proposition, and suggested to the Chouette that the Martials and Barbillon should join her, so that I might be able to put the whole party into your hands."