The Mysteries of Paris, Volume 5 of 6

"Ma foi! I believe I really should!" replied the Skeleton.

And he said truly. It is impossible to describe the vast terror which such ruffians experience at the very idea of being in solitary confinement. And is not this very terror an eloquent plea in favour of this punishment?

An uproarious noise made by the prisoners in the yard interrupted the Skeleton's council. Nicholas rose hastily, and went to the door of the room to discover the cause of this unusual tumult.

"It is the Gros-Boiteux," said Nicholas, returning.

"The Gros-Boiteux!" exclaimed the prévôt. "And has Germain come down from the visiting-room?"

"Not yet," replied Barbillon.

"Then let him make haste," said the Skeleton, "and I'll give him an order for a new coffin."

The Gros-Boiteux, whose arrival was so warmly hailed by the prisoners in the lions' den, and whose information might be so fatal to Germain, was a man of middle stature; but, in spite of being fat and crippled, he was nimble and vigorous. His countenance, brutal like that of most of his companions, was of the bulldog character; his low forehead, his small yellow eyes, his flaccid cheeks, his heavy jaws, the lower being very projecting, and armed with long teeth, or, rather, broken fangs, which in places projected beyond his lips, made his resemblance to that animal the more striking. He wore a felt cap, and over his clothes a blue cloak with a fur collar.

The Gros-Boiteux was accompanied into the prison by a man about thirty years of age, whose tanned and freckled face appeared less dissolute than that of the other prisoners, although he affected to appear as dogged as his companion. From time to time his features became overcast, and he smiled bitterly. The Gros-Boiteux soon found himself amongst his boon companions and acquaintances, and he could scarcely reply to the congratulations and kind words which came to him from all sides.

"What, is it you, old boy? All right! Now we shall have some fun."

"You haven't hurried yourself."

"Still I have done all I could to see my friends again as soon as possible, and it was no fault of mine if the stone jug didn't claim me sooner."

"Don't doubt you, old boy! And a man doesn't pick out a gaol as his favourite residence; but once trapped he does his best to be jolly."

"And so we shall be, for Pique-Vinaigre is here."

"Is he? What, one of the old customers of Melun? Why, that's capital! For he'll help us to pass the time with his stories, and his customers will not fail him, for there are more recruits coming in."

"Who are they?"

"Why, just now at the entrance, whilst I came in, I saw two fresh chaps brought in; one I didn't know, but the other, who wore a blue cotton cap and a gray blouse, I have seen before somewhere. He is a powerful-looking man, and I think I have met him at the Ogress's of the White Rabbit."

"I say, Gros-Boiteux, don't you remember at Melun I bet you a wager that in less than a year you would be nabbed again?"

"To be sure I do, and you've won. But what are you here for?"

"Oh, I was caught on the prigging lay —à la Americaine."

"Ah, always in the same line."

"Yes, I continue in my usual small way. The rig is common, but there are always 'culls'; and but for the stupidity of a pal I should not be here. However, once caught twice warned; and when I begin again I will be more careful, – I have my plan."

"Ah, here's Cardillac!" said the Boiteux, going to a little man wretchedly dressed, with ill-looking aspect, full of craft and malignity, and with features partaking of the wolf and fox. "Ah, old chap, how are you?"

"Ah, old limper," replied the prisoner nicknamed Cardillac to the Gros-Boiteux; "they said every day, 'He's coming – he's not coming!' But you are like the pretty girls, you do as you like."

"Yes, to be sure."

"Well," replied Cardillac, "is it for something spicy that you are here now?"

"Yes, my dear fellow, I had done one or two good things, but the last was a failure; it was an out-and-out-go, and may still be done. Unfortunately, Frank and I overshot the mark."

And the Gros-Boiteux pointed to his companion, towards whom all eyes now turned.

"Ah, so it is – it's Frank!" said Cardillac; "I didn't know him again because of his beard. What, Franky! Why, I thought you'd turned honest, and was, at least, mayor of your village."

"I was an ass, and I've suffered for it," said Frank, quickly; "but every sin has its repentance. I was good once, and now I'm a prig for the rest of my days. Let 'em look out when I get out."

"What happened to you, Frank?"

"What happens to every free convict who is donkey enough to think he can turn honest. Fate is just! When I left Melun I'd saved nine hundred and odd francs."

"Yes, that's true," said the Gros-Boiteux, "all his misfortunes have come from his keeping his savings, instead of spending 'em jolly when he left the 'jug.' You see what repentance leads to!"

"They sent me, en surveillance, to Etampes," replied Frank; "being a locksmith by trade, I went to a master in my line and said to him, 'I am a freed convict, I know no one likes to employ such, but here are nine hundred francs of my savings, give me work, my money will be your guarantee, for I want to work and be honest.'"

"What a joke!"

"Well, you'll see how it answered. I offered my savings as a guarantee to the master locksmith that he might give me work. 'I'm not a banker to take money on interest,' says he to me, 'and I don't want any freed convicts in my shop. I go to work in houses to open doors where keys are lost, I have a confidential business, and if it were known that I employed a freed convict amongst my workmen I should lose my customers. Good day, my man.'"

"Wasn't that just what he deserved, Cardillac?"

"Exactly."

"You simpleton!" said the Gros-Boiteux to Frank, with a paternal air; "instead of breaking your ban at once, and coming to Paris to melt your mopusses, so that you might not have a sou left, but be compelled to return to robbing. You see the end of your fine ideas."

"That's what you are always saying," said Frank, with impatience; "it is true I was wrong not to spend my 'tin,' for I have not even enjoyed it. Well, as there were only four locksmiths in Etampes, he whom I had first addressed had soon told all the others, and they said to me as had said their fellow tradesman, 'No, thank ye.' All sung the same song."

"Only see, now, what it all comes to! You must see that we are all marked for life."

"Well, then, I was on the idle of Etampes, and my money melted and melted," continued Frank, "but no work came. I left Etampes, in spite of my surveillance, and came to Paris, where I found work immediately, for my employer did not know who or what I was, and it's no boast to say I am a first-rate workman. Well, I put my seven hundred francs which I had remaining into an agent's hands, who gave me a note for it; when that was due he did not pay me, so I took my note to a huissier, who brought an action against him, and recovered the money, which I left in his hands, saying to myself there's something for a rainy day. Well, just then I met the Gros-Boiteux."

"True. Well, Frank was a locksmith and made keys, I had a job in which he could be of service, and I proposed it to him. I had the prints, and he had only to go to work, when, only imagine, he refused, – he meant to turn honest. So, says I, I'll arrange about that, I'll make him work, for his own interest. So I wrote a letter, without any signature, to his master, and another to his fellow workmen, to inform them that Frank was a liberated convict, – so the master turned him away. He went to another employer and worked there for a week, – same game again; and if he had gone to a dozen I'd have served him in the same way."

"And if I had suspected that it was you who had informed against me," answered Frank, "I'd have given you a pleasant quarter of an hour to pass. Well, I was at length driven away from my last employer as a scamp only fit to be hanged. Work, then, – be respectable, – so that people may say, not 'What are you doing?' but 'What have you done?' Once on the pavé I said, 'Fortunately I have my savings to fall back upon.' So I went to the huissier, but he had cut his stick, and spent my 'tin'; and here was I without a feather to fly with, not even enough to pay for a week's lodging. What a precious rage I was in! Well, at this moment comes the Gros-Boiteux, and he took advantage of my situation. I saw it was useless trying to be honest, and that once on the prig there's no leaving it. But, old Gros, I owe you a turn."

"Come, Frank, no malice!" replied the Gros-Boiteux. "Well, he did his part like a man, and we entered upon the business, which promised royally; but, unfortunately, at the moment when we opened our mouths to swallow the dainty bit, the 'traps' were down upon us. Couldn't be helped, you know, lad! If it wasn't for that, why, our profession would be too good."

"Yet if that vagabond of a huissier had not robbed me I should not have been here," said Frank, with concentrated rage.

"Well, well," continued the Gros-Boiteux, "do you mean to say that you were better off when you were breaking your back with work?"

"I was free," retorted Frank.

"Yes, on Sundays and when you were out of work, but the rest of the week you were tied up like a dog, and never sure of employ. Why, you don't know when you are well off."

"Will you teach me?" said Frank, bitterly.

"Well, you've a right to be vexed, for it was shameful to miss such a good stroke; but it is still to be done in a month or two. The people will become reassured, and it is a rich, very rich house. I shall be sentenced for breaking my ban, and so cannot resume the job, but if I find an amateur I will hand it over to him a bargain. My woman has the prints, and there is nothing to do but make new keys, and with the information I can give it must succeed. Why, there must be, at least, 400l. to lay hands on, and that ought to console you, Frank."

Frank shook his head, crossed his hands over his chest, and made no reply.

Cardillac took the Gros-Boiteux by the arms, led him into a corner of the yard, and said to him, after a moment's silence:

"Is the affair you have failed in still good?"

"In two months as good as new."

"Can you prove it?"

"Of course."

"And what do you ask for it?"

"A hundred francs as earnest; and I will give you the word arranged with my woman, on which she will hand you the prints, from which you can make the false keys. And, moreover, if the thing comes off, I shall expect a fifth share of the swag to be handed over to my woman."

"That's not unreasonable."

"As I shall know to whom she has given the prints, if I am done out of my share I shall know whom to inform against."

"And very right, too, if you were choused; but amongst prigs and cracksmen there's honour, – we must rely on each other, or all business would be impossible."

Another anomaly in this horrid existence. This villain spoke the truth. It is very seldom that thieves fail in their faith in such arrangements as these, but they usually act with a kind of good faith, – or, rather, that we may not prostitute the word, we will say that necessity compels these ruffians to keep their words; for if they failed, as the companion of the Gros-Boiteux said, "All business would be impossible." A great number of robberies are arranged, bought, and plotted in this way in gaol, – another pernicious result of confinement in common.

"If what you say is sure," continued Cardillac, "I can agree for the job. There are no proofs against me, I am sure to be acquitted, and in a fortnight I shall be out; let us add three weeks in order to turn oneself about, to get the false keys, and lay our plans, and then in six weeks from this – "

"You'll go to the job in the very nick of time."

"Well, then, it's a bargain."

"But how about the earnest? I must have something down."

"Here is my last button, and when I have no more, – yet there are others left," said Cardillac, tearing off a button covered with cloth from his ragged blue coat, and then tearing off the covering with his nails, he showed the Gros-Boiteux that, instead of a button-mould, it contained a piece of forty francs. "You see I can pay deposit," he added, "when the affair is arranged."

"That's the ticket, old fellow!" said the Gros-Boiteux. "And as you are soon going out, and have got rhino to work with, I can put you up to another thing, – a real good go, – the cheese, – a regular affair which my woman and myself have been cooking up, and which only wants the finishing stroke. Only imagine a lone street in a deserted quarter, a ground floor, looking on one side into an obscure alley, and on the other a garden, and here two old people, who go to roost with the cocks and hens since the riots, and, for fear of being robbed, they have concealed behind a panel, in a pot of preserves, a quantity of gold; my woman found it out by gossiping with the servant. But I tell you this will be a dearer job than t'other, for it is in hard cash, and all cooked ready to eat and drink."

"We'll arrange it, be assured. But you haven't worked over well since you left the central."

"Yes, I have had a pretty fair chance. I got together some trifles which brought me nearly sixty pounds. One of my best bites was a pull at two women who lodged in the same house with me in the Passage de la Brasserie."

"What, at Daddy Micou's?"

"Yes."

"And your Josephine?"

"Just the same; a real ferret as ever. She cooks with the old couple I have mentioned to you, and so smelt out the pot with the golden honey in it."

"She's nothing but a trump!"

"I flatter myself she is. But, talking of trumps, you know the Chouette?"

"Yes; Nicholas has told me the Schoolmaster did for her, and he has gone mad."

"Perhaps from losing his sight through some accident. But I say, old fellow, it's quite understood that you will buy my two bargains, and so I shall not speak to any one else."

"Don't; and we will talk them over this evening."

"Well, and how are you getting on here?"

"Oh, we laugh and play the fool."

"Who's prévôt of the chamber?"

"The Skeleton."

"He's not to be joked with. I have seen him at Martial's, in the Isle du Ravageur. We had a flare-up with Josephine and La Boulotte."

"By the way, Nicholas is here."

"So Micou told me when he made a lament that Nicholas was putting the screw on – an old hunks! Why, what else were receivers made for?"

"Here is the Skeleton," said Cardillac, as the prévôt appeared at the door of the room.

"Young 'un, come forward," said the Skeleton to the Gros-Boiteux.

"Here I am," he replied, going into the apartment, accompanied by Frank, whose arm he held.

During the conversation between the Gros-Boiteux, Frank, and Cardillac, Barbillon had been, by order of the prévôt, to select twelve or fifteen of the choicest prisoners, who (in order to avoid the suspicions of the turnkey) had come separately into the day-room. The other détenus had remained in the yard, and some of them, by Barbillon's advice, had appeared to be disputing, in order to take off the attention of the turnkey from the room in which were now assembled the Skeleton, Barbillon, Nicholas, Frank, Cardillac, the Gros-Boiteux, and some fifteen other prisoners, all awaiting with impatient curiosity until the prévôt should open the business.

Barbillon, charged with the look-out, placed himself near the door. The Skeleton, taking his pipe from his mouth, said to the Gros-Boiteux:

"Do you know a slim young man named Germain, with blue eyes, brown hair, and the look of a noodle?"

"What! Is Germain here?" inquired the Gros-Boiteux, with surprise, hate, and anger in his looks.

"What, then, you know him?" said the Skeleton.

"Know him?" replied the Gros-Boiteux. "Why, my lads, I denounce him as a nose, and he must be punished!"

"Yes, yes!" replied the prisoners.

"Are you sure it was he who informed against you?" asked Frank; "suppose it was a mistake, – we mustn't ill-use a man who's innocent."

This remark was displeasing to the Skeleton, who leaned over to the Gros-Boiteux, and said in his ear:

"Who is this man?"

"One with whom I have worked."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes – but he hasn't gull enough – too much treacle in him."

"Good, I'll keep an eye on him."

"Tell us how Germain turned nose," said a prisoner.

"Yes, let us know all about it, Gros-Boiteux," continued the Skeleton, who did not take his eyes off Frank.

"Well, then," said Gros-Boiteux, "a man of Nantes, named Velu, a freed convict, brought up the young fellow, whose birth no one is acquainted with. When he had reached the proper age they put him into a banking-house at Nantes, thinking they had put a wolf to watch the money-box, and make use of Germain to do a bold and great stroke which had been meditated for a very long time. There were to be two coups, a forgery and a dip into the strong chest at the bank, something like a hundred and fifty thousand francs. All was arranged, and Velu relied on the young fellow as on himself, for the chap slept in the room in which the iron safe was. Velu told him his plans; Germain neither says yes or no, but reveals all to his employer, and the very same evening cuts his stick and mizzles to Paris."

The prisoners burst into various murmurs of indignation and threats.

"He's a spy – nose – informer! – and we'll have the bones out of his body!"

"If it's agreeable, I'll seek a quarrel with him, and settle his hash!"

"Silence in the stone jug!" exclaimed the Skeleton, in a tone of command.

The prisoners were silent.

"Go on," said the prévôt to Gros-Boiteux, and he went on smoking.

"Believing that Germain had consented, and relying on his assistance, Velu and two of his friends attempted the job that same night. The banker was on the watch; one of Velu's friends was taken as he was entering a window, he himself escaping with difficulty. He reached Paris enraged at having been sold by Germain, and foiled in a splendid affair. One fine day he met the young fellow; it was in the open daylight, and he didn't dare do anything, but he followed him, found out where he lived, and one night we two, Velu and little Ledru, fell on Germain. Unfortunately he escaped, and then changed his residence in the Rue du Temple, where he lived; we were unable to find him afterwards. But if he is here, I demand – "

"You have nothing to demand," said the Skeleton, in a tone of authority.

The Gros-Boiteux was instantly silent.

"I take the bargain off your hands; you will concede to me Germain's skin, and I'll flay him alive. I am not called the Skeleton for nothing. I am dead-alive, my grave is dug, and I run no risk in working for the stone jug. The informers destroy us faster than the police; they put noses of La Force into La Roquette, and the noses of La Roquette in the Conciergerie, and they think themselves safe. Now, mind you, when each prison shall have killed its informer, no matter when he may have informed, that will take away the others' appetite. I will set the example, and let others follow it."

All the prisoners, admiring the Skeleton's resolution, closed around him. Barbillon himself, instead of remaining near the door, joined the group, and did not perceive another prisoner, who had entered the room. This individual, clothed in a gray blouse, and wearing a blue cotton cap with a red worsted border, pulled down over his eyes, started as he heard the name of Germain mentioned, and then, mingling with the Skeleton's admirers, gave out loud tones of approbation at the deadly determination of the prévôt.

"What an out-and-outer the Skeleton is!" said one.

"The devil himself is a fool to him!"

"This here's what I call a man!"

"If all were like him, wouldn't the flats be afeard?"

"He'll do a real service to the stone jug, and when they see this, the noses will look blue."

"And no mistake!"

"And since the Skeleton is safe to suffer, why, it'll cost him nothing to put a nose out of joint!"

"Well, I think it's too bad," said Frank, "to kill the young chap."

"Why? Why?" exclaimed the Skeleton, in a savage tone; "no one has a right to protect a traitor."

"Yes, to be sure, he is a traitor, – so much the worse for him," said Frank, after a moment's reflection.

These latter words, and Gros-Boiteux's assurance, put the doubts which the other prisoners had entertained against Frank to rest.

The Skeleton alone continued to mistrust him.

"And what are we to do with the turnkey? Tell us, Dead-Alive, for that is your name as well as the Skeleton," said Nicholas, with a grin.

"We must draw off his attention somehow."

"No; we'll hold him down by main force."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Silence in the stone jug!" said the Skeleton.

There was complete silence.

"Listen to me!" said the prévôt, in his hoarse voice. "There is no means of doing the thing so long as the turnkey remains in the day-room or the walking-yard. I have no knife, and there must be a few groans, for the sneak will struggle."

"Well, what then?"

"Why, this. Pique-Vinaigre has promised to tell us to-day after dinner his story of 'Gringalet and Cut-in-Half.' It rains, and we shall all come here, and the sneak will come and sit down there in the corner, as he always does. We'll give Pique-Vinaigre some sous that he may begin his tale. It will be dinner-time in the gaol; the turnkey will see us quietly employed in listening to the miraculous mystery of 'Gringalet and Cut-in-Half,' and will, suspecting no harm, make off to the tap. As soon as he has left the yard we shall have a quarter of an hour to ourselves, and the nose will be cold meat before the turnkey can return. I will undertake it, – I who have done for stouter fellows in my day; and mind, I'll have no assistance!"

"Mind your eye!" cried Cardillac; "and what about the huissier who will always come for a gossip amongst us at dinner-time? If he comes into the room to listen to Pique-Vinaigre, and sees Germain done for, he will cry out for help. He's not one of us, the huissier, – he's in a private cell, and we should mistrust him."

"Is there a huissier here?" said Frank, the victim as we know of a breach of trust, by Maître Boulard. "Is there a huissier here?" he repeated, with astonishment, "and what is his name?"

"Boulard," replied Cardillac.

"The very man! The identical villain!" cried Frank, clenching his fists. "It is he who has stolen my savings!"

"The huissier?" inquired the prévôt.

"Yes, seven hundred francs of mine."

"You know him? And has he seen you?" inquired the Skeleton.

"I have seen him, worse luck! But for him I should not be here."

These regrets sounded ill in the Skeleton's ears, and he fixed his malignant eyes steadfastly on Frank, who replied to several of his comrade's questions. Then stooping towards the Gros-Boiteux, he said, in a low voice:

"This is a fresh 'un who might tell the turnkey."

"No, I'll answer for his not informing against any one; yet still he has his scruples about going the whole hog, and he might aid Germain in defending himself. It would be best to get him out of the yard."

"I'll do it," said the Skeleton; and then aloud he said, "I say, Frank, won't you pitch into this thief of a lawyer?"

"Won't I, that's all!"

"Well, he's coming, and so look out."

"I'm ready, and he shall bear my marks!"

"We shall have a row, and they will send the huissier to his room and Frank to the black-hole," said the Skeleton, in an undertone, to the Gros-Boiteux; "we shall thus get rid of both."

"What a lucky pitch! Why, this Skeleton is a prime minister!" said the Boiteux, admiringly; and then he added, in a loud tone, "I say, shall we tell Pique-Vinaigre that we shall avail ourselves of his history to come over the turnkey and throttle the sneak?"

"By no means; Pique-Vinaigre is too soft and too cowardly. If he was up to the thing he wouldn't tell the story, but when the job is done and over he'll bear his share."

The dinner-bell sounded at this moment.