Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 10 — page 24: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a mar Paar _—— -_ - ee ee ee ? gee te ST TO S- 24 ‘Well, you will oblige me by informing my friends here what fortunes are made in the colonies..—‘ Immense! M. Belle-Rose, immense! ’-—-‘ What alliances?’—‘ What alli- ances? Superb! M. Belle-Rose, superb! the meanest heiress has millions of piastres..—‘ What life do they lead? ’—‘ The life of a prince, M. Belle-Rose.’ " ‘You see,’ said the husband, ‘I dic not make her say ‘The farce was thus performed. M. Belle-Rose offered us the refreshment of a glass of rum: we drank to his wife, and she drank to our good voyage. ‘ For I suppose,’ she added, ‘that these gentlemen are ours. y dear fellow,’ said she to Fanfan, ‘you have the face they like im those parts; square shoulders, wide chest, well-made leg, nose tla Bourbon.’ Then turning ome, ‘And you too; oh! you are well-limbed fellows.’—* And lads, too who will not allow themselves to be trampled on,’ added Belle-Rose; ‘this gentleman has been at it already this morning.’ ‘What, already! I congratulate him. Come here, my dear sir, and let me kiss you; I always liked young fellows, that is my taste: every one has their incli- nation. Do not be jealous, Belle-Rose.’—‘ Jealous of what? My friend behaved like a second Bayard, as I shall tell the regiment; the colonel shall know it, and ad- vancement must follow—corporal at least, if not an offi- cer. Ah, when you have the epaulette on your shoulders you will be a noted brave man.’ Fanfan jumped for joy. As for me, sure that I was no leas brave than he, I said to myself, ‘Tf he advances, I shall not hang back.’ We were both very happy. ‘**T ought to tell you one thing,’ pursued the recruiter; ‘recommended as you are, you must excite jealousy; there are envious people mie be Ws but remember that if they use a word of abuse I shall take it up; once under my protection—enough. Write to me.'—‘ What!’ said Fanfan, ‘do not you go with us?’—‘ No,’ replied Belle- Rose, ‘to my great regret: the minister has need of me, I shall join you at Brest. To-morrow at eight o’clock I expect you here, not later: to-day I have no leisure to re- main louger with you; duty must be done, Adieu till to- morrow. ““ We took leave of Madame Belle-Rose, who embraced as. Next day we were, at half-past seven, aroused by the bugs which lodged with us at Griffon’s. ‘Give me punc- men!’ said Belle-Rose, when he saw us; ‘I am one myself.’ Then assuming a more serious air: ‘If you have any friends and acquaintances, you have the rest of the day for leave-taking. Now this is yourroute; your allow- ance is three sous per league, with lodging, firing, and eandie. You may start as soon as you like; that is no affair of mine; but do not forget, that, if you are found in the streets of Paris to-morrow evening, the police will conduct you to your place of destination. ‘** This threat cut us up root and branch; but as we had baked, so we must brew; and we started. From Paris to Brest is a famous leng walk, but, in spite of blisters, we made ten leagues a day. We arrived at last, but not with- out having a thousand times cursed Belle-Rose. A month afterwards we embarked. Ten years afterwards, day for day, 1 was made corporal, and Fanfan also romoted; he was knocked on the head at St. omingo, during Leclerc’s expedition. As for me, I have oe a steady foot and good eye; my{chest is well lined, and / ——- may have the lack to bury you all. I have passed many rough days in my life; been thrown from one colony to another; I have rolled my ball as I went, and I have not been a loser; never mind, the children of glee will never die;—and then, when they are no more here, they are to be found elsewhere,” continned the sergeant Dufailli, striking the pockets of his uniform; and then lifting u his waistcoat, exposed a leather belt, apparently we lined. ‘I say, there is yet butter in the churn, and yel- low enough too, without counting what we may chance to borrow from the English. The India-Company owe me a balance still, which some three-masters will bring.” — ‘“‘In the meantime, all goes well with you, father Dufail- Hi,” eaid the forager. ‘‘ Very well,” said the sergeant- major. Yes, very well, indeed, thought I; determining to cultivate an acquaintance which ce rendered 80 propitious for me. CHAPTER XVIL Waiter giving us the scene of the recruiters, father Du- failli had at every sentence. He was of opinion that words flowed best when moistened. He might, tobe sure, have used water; but he had a great horror of that, de said, ever since he fell into the sea, which was in 1789. Thus it happened, that partly through drinking and ly through talking, he got drnnk imperceptibly. At last he reached a point at which he found it impossible to ex- himself, but with the utmost difficulty; his tongue e what we call thick. And then the forager and sergeant-major retired. ufailli and | remained alone; he was asleep and leant on the table, and began to snore; whilst I cooly gave my- self up to a train of reflections. ‘Three hours elapsed, and he had not finished his sleep. When he awoke, he was quite surprised to find any one near him; at first, he looked at me as through a thick fog, which did not allow him to distinguish my features, but insensibly the vapor disappeared, and he recognized me, which was all he could do. He stumbled as he arose; and ordering a basin of coffee, without milk, into which he emptied a salt-cel- a swallowed the — —= — a een having fe) short sword, he took my: arm me Sowande the door. My aid was most needful to him: it was the vine twining about the elm. ‘‘ You are going to vow me,”’ said he, **and I will pilot you. Do you see the — What does it say, with its arms in the air? *— “Tt makes signals that the Dufailli is lying y” “he Dufailli,—thousand gods! a ship of three hundred tons at least. Do not fear; all's right with Dufailli.” At the same time, without letting go ee he took off his hat, and placing it on the end of his finger, spun it around, “See my compass; attention—-we go as the cockade points—weather the cape of the Rue des Précheurs! for- ward, march!’’ ord Dofailli; and we took ether the road to the lower town, after he had put on his hat with much noise. Dufailli had promised to advise me, but he was not in a state to doit. I anxiously desired that he should recover his reason, but, a soe me the air and exercise pro- duced a precisely opposite effect. On going down the main street, we were obliged to enter every public-house, with which the residence of the army had filled the place; everywhere made a stay, shorter or longer. I endeavored to make them as brief as le. Each shop, Dufailli eaid, was —s into w we must pats eae Seles BeeP increased the , which he had already 80 much ° culty to . “Tam as full asabe ,’ sald he to me, in broken words; “ and yet lam nota , for beggare sever get drunk, do they, my boy?” Twenty times { reso!ved on leav'ng him; bat Dufailli, ry. ee The New York Libr when sober, might aid me; I remembered his full girdle, and even without that, I knew well that he had other re- sources than his sergeant’s pay. Having reached the church in the Place d’Alton, he took it into his head to have his shoes brushed, which, when done, he lost his balance in moving from the. stool; and, thinking he would fall, l approached to support him. ‘“ What, coun- tryman, don’t fear because I make a reel or two; I have a sailor’s foot.’’ In the meantime the brash had genes brightness to his shoes; and when they were completely blackened, ‘‘Come, the finishing touch,’ said Dufailli; ‘* or is that for to-morrow?” At the same time he gave him asous. “ You will not make a rich man of me, ser geant.’’ ‘‘What, do you grumble?—mind I don’t kill ou.” .Dufailli made a gesture, but his hat fell off, and, lown by the wind, rolled along the pavement; the shoe- black ran after it and brought it back. ‘It is not worth twopence,”’ cried Dufailli; *‘ never mind, ren are a good fellow.” Then thrusting his hands into his pockets, he took out a handful of money: ‘Here, drink to my health.’”’. “Thanks, my colonel,” said the shoe-black, “oe proportioned his titles to the generosity he met with. ‘*T must now,” said Dufailli, who seemed by degrees to recover his senses, ‘‘ lead you into good quarters.” [had made up my mind to accompany him wherever he went. I had witnessed his liberality, and I was not ignorant that drunkards gre the most grateful persons possible to those who give them their company. allows myself then to be piloted as he wished, and we reached the Rue des Précheurs. At the door of a new house of elegant appear- ance, was a sentry and several soldiers. ‘This is it,” saidhe. ‘* What, here? Are you going to take me to the staff-major?’’ ‘ The staff-major |—nonsense; | say it is the beautiful and fair Magdelaine’s; orif you like it bet- ter, ‘madame quarante mille hommes’ (madam fort thousand men) as they call her.” ‘* Impossible, Dufailli, ou are under some mistake.”’ ‘Oh, I see double, do 1? not that the sentinel?’ Dnfailli advanced while speak- ing, and asked for admittance. ‘*Go back,”’ said the quarter-master, roughly; ‘“‘you ought to know well enough that this is not your day.’ Dufailli persisted. **Go away, I tell you,” said the salbaltern, *' or I will take you to the black hole." This threat made me tremble all over. Dufailli’s obstinacy might be fatal to me, and yet it would not have been prudent to tell him my fears; at all events not where we then were ; and I therefore only made some observations to him, which were however entirely lost upon him in his tae state. ‘* Let the fellow go and be , the sun shines mee forugall: liberty, equali- ty, or death,’’ he repeated, whilst struggling to escape the hold I kept on him, that he might not commit himself in any way. “E ualit , [tell you;”’ and in an attitude bet- ter conceived than described, he looked at me with that stupid er yen stare which a man has when he has * pnt an enemy into his mouth to steal away his brains,” and reduce him to the level of a brute. I was in ae when at the cry, ‘Present arms!” followed by this warning, ‘Cannoneer, mind what = do; here is the adjutant, here is Bevignac;’’ he sud- enly seemed quite to come to himself. A shower-bath falling from a height of fifty-feet, upon a maniac’s head, has not so sudden an effect in restoring his senses. The name of Bevignac made a singular impression on the ore who had ranged themselves in front of the groun floor of the fair agdelaine’s house. They looked at one another without, as it seemed, daring to breathe, so much were they alarmed. The adjutant, who was a tall, meagre-looking man, having arrived; began to count them, whilst he made motions with bis cane. I never saw a face so deeply furrowed; on his thin and lank jaws were two small unpowdered curls; on the whole countenance might be traced a certain something, which declared that adjutant Bevignac was a perfect martinet, and determi- nately oppo to anything! like want of rem wa Anger was visible in his face, his eyes were bloodshot, ond a horrible convulsion of his jaws announced he was about to speak, Then receiving us, and advancing to- wards us with uplifted cane, “‘What are you doing here, yon sergeant of powder monkeys?’ I ren zht he was about to strike us. ‘Oh, I see,” he added, * it is nothing; only drunk,”’ addressing Dufailli. ‘‘ Well, a jovial cup is excusable; to bed, and do not let me meet you again.’ ** Yes, commandant,’”’ replied Dn- failli, at this order, and we went away down the Rue des Précheurs, But Dufailli, inflamed with wine, had gone out for a night’s carouse, and that he was yet resolved to have; go we failed to return to quarters as ordered, and found our- selves inmates of the cabaret and inn of M. Boutrois, but only there to be disturbed in our after midnight slumbers by a great noise and confusion in the rooms below our chamber, that we learned from M. Boutrois was caused by the crew and officers of a privateer which had only just arrived, having captured a prize worth three million francs. The noise increased as morning approached, and sleep became impossible. Songs,which shook the very glasses,disturbed our repose, forty discordant voices joining in the chorus of the cele- brated hymn of Roland. ‘‘ Devil take the singers! "’ cried Dufailli, ‘I had the most agreeable dream:—I was at Toulon: were you ever at Toulon, old fellow?” I an- swered Dufailli, that I knew Toulon, but could not see what relation there could be between his agreeable dream and that city. “Iwasa hg Bharti he replied, “ and I had just escaped.’ Dufailli perceived that this statement made an unpleasant impression on me, which I could not conceal, ‘“ Well, what is the matter with you, country- man’ I had just escaped, and that’s no bad dream, I think, fora prisoner. It was only a dream, to be sure; but that is not all, for I entered amongst the corsairs, and got as mfich gold as I could carry." Although I have never been superstitious, I must con- fess I took Dufailli’s dream as a prediction on my future lot: it was poets a ne meery nim heaven, to determine the course I should pursue. However, said I to myself, at ome I do not deserve Heaven's interposition, and per- aps 1 only fancy it. I soon made another reflection. It occurred to me, that the old sergeant might have been venting his suspicions of me, and the idea vexed me. rose; and Dufailli saw that I had an air more serious than usual, ‘ What pol pea ” said he, “‘why you look as er as an ow e then beckoned me to follow him; and in obeying he conducted me to a little parlor, where we found Captain Paulet and his crew, the majority of whom were drunk with wine and joy. As soon as we a , there was a unanimous shout of “ Dufailli! Duta it *—** Hail to mine ancient! ’’ said Paulet; and then offering my companion a seat beside him, added, ‘Anchor here, my old cock, we may well say that Providence is M. Boutrois, Bo more ‘bishops,’ as if it rained wine. SS SS Te en es ee eee ~ > 2s . Come, we will have no sorrow here, from this time hence- forward,’’ he added, pressing Dufailif's Paulet then looked oneinny. at me, and said, ‘‘1l think I know you, we have met before; you have handled 4 marline spike, my hearty.’’ I told him that I had been on board the privateer, ‘* Barras,’’ but that I did not recollect having ever met him before. ‘* Well, then, we will make acquaintance now. Ido not know,” he added, ‘but you look likea jolly dog—a lad for all sorts of weathers, as we say, I say, my boys, has he not the look of a hearty chap? I like the cut of his jib. Sit here, on my right hand; by my fist, what a back and loins; here are shoulders! You are just the lad for fishing for Englishmen.” On finishing these words, he put on my head hisredcap. ‘It does not look amiss on the lad,” he added, with a knowing look but in which there was much kindness. I saw at once that the captain would not be sorry to number me amongst his crew. Dufailli, who had not yet become speechless, exhorted me most energetically to profit by the opportunity; this was the good advice he had promised me, and I followed it. It was agreed that | should go a voyage, and that the next day I should go to the owner, M. Choisnard, who would advance me some money. It must not be doubted but that I was well received by my new comrades; the captain had placed a thousand crowns to their credit at the hotel, and many of them had other resources in the city. I never witnessed such pro- fusion. Nothing was too dear or delicate for the priva- teers. M. Boutrois, to satisfy them, was compelled to put the whole city and environs in requisition, and even de- spatched couriers to nourish their luxurious palates, the duration of which was not limited toa single day, It was on Monday, and my companion was not sobered »y the og he - Sunday; as for me, my stomach and head ogsaed delightfully, and neither received the slightest check. Paulet and Fleuriot, his second in command, were the heroes of the feast; physically, as well as morally, they were the perfect antipodes of each other. The former was a stout, short man, strong backed, a ge} set, witha neck like a bull; wideshoulders, a full face, and hia features like that of a lion, his aspect either flerce or gentle; in fight, he was pitiless, elsewhere he was humans and compassionate, Atthe moment of boarding he was s perfect demon; in the bosomof his family, and with his wife and children, except a little roughness of manner, he was as wild as a dove; then he was the jolly, simple, binff, and rough farmer; a perfect patriarch, whom it was impossible to discern in the pirate. Once on shipboard, his manners and language entirely changed, and he ceamne harsh and coarse to excess; his will was as despotic as that of an Oriental Pasha; abrupt and rude, he had an iron arm and will, and woe to him who opposed either. Panlet was a daring and good man, sensible though brutal: no one ever possessed morefrankness and loyalty. Paulet’s lieutenant was one of the most singular beings lever met with: endowed with a most robust constitu- tion, although yet very young, he had tried it with every sort of excess; he was one of those libertines, who by dint of anticipating the pleasures of life’s stores, spends his revenue before he gets it, eats his calf in the cow's belly. Headstrong, with vivid passions and a heated imagina-. tion, he had early abandoned himeelf, to premature ex. cesses. He had not reached his twentieth year, when the decay of his lungs, together with a universal sinking of his whole frame, had compelled him to quit the artillery into which he had entered at eighteen years of age an now this poor fellow had scarcely & breath of life in him ; he was frightfully thin; two large eyes, Whose blackness made more. apparent the melancholy paleness of his com. plexion, were apparently all that remained of this carcass, n which, however, was & soul of Fleuriot was not ignorant that his days were numb The most able physicians had pronounced his sentence of death, and the certainty of his approaching dissolution had sugested to him a strange resolution, ‘This is what he told me upon the subject: ‘*I served,’ said he, “in the fifib regiment of light artillery, where I was entered as a volunteer, The regiment was quartered at Metz. A gay life and hard work had exhausted me, and I was as dry as parchment. One morning the turn-out was pataded,. and we set off. | fell sick by the way, and received a = order; and a few days afterwards, the doctors, seeing that I spit blood abundantly, declared that my lungs were not in a slate to be subjected to the exercises of a horse, and conse Qnanay I was advised to enter the foot arti)- lery; and scarcely was I well when I did ao. I left one berth for another, the small for the large, the six for twelve, the spur for the spatterdash.. I had no longer to allop hard, but I had to turn my body about on the plat- forai to jump up and down like a goat, to roll gun-carri- ages about, to dig trenches, to strap up artillery gear, and, worse than that, to carry on my back the infernal knap- sack, that eternal calf’s skin which has killed more con- scripts than the guns of Marengo: The calf’s skin gave me a knock-down blow. I could not resist its attack. | offered myself to the depot, and was admitted. I had only to undergo the inspection of the general. He was that martinet Sarrazin. He came to me. ‘I will wager that he is still weak-chested: are. you not?’ ‘Consump- tion in the second degree,’ replied the major, ‘Is it so? I thought it. I said so, they are all narrow-shouldered, hollow-chested, lanky-limbed, thick-visaged. Show your legs. Why there are four campaigns in them yet,’ con tinued the general, striking me on the calf, ‘And now what a yeu: Your dismissal? You shan't have it. Besides,’ he added, ‘death only comes to him who pauses: go your way.’ I wished tospeak. ‘ Begone,’ repeated the general, ‘and be silent.’ “The inspection concluded; I went and threw myself on