Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 10 — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

‘ be had given himself upto makin - pew than that trifing acquaintance which on EY OES ON TT furnished house, where he once lodged, on the boulevard of Mont Parnasse, I took it for granted that, sooner or later, he would go there in search of his property; or at ieast that he would send some person to fetch it from thence; consequently, I directed all my vigilence to this spot; and after having reconnoitered the house, I lay in embush ia its vicinity night and day, in order to keep a watchful eye upon all comers and goers. This went on for aoe a week, when, weary of not observing any- thing, I etermined upon engaging the master of the house In my interest, and to hire an apartment of him, where I accordingly established myself with Annette, certain that pe presence could give rise to no suspicion. T had occupied this post for about fifteen days, when one evening, at eleven oclock, I was informed that Watrin had just come, accompanied by another person. Owing tea slivi! in sition, I ha usual; | owever, at this news I rose hastily, and descend- ed the s.aircase by four stairs at a time: but whatever diligence I might use, I was only just in time to catch Watrin’s companion; him I had no right to detain, but I made myself sure that I might, by intimidation, obtain further particulars from him, I therefore seized him, threatened him, and soon drew from him a confession, that he was a shoemaker, and that Watrin lived with him, No. 4, Rue des Mauvais Garcons. This was all I wanted to know; I had only had time to slip an old great coat over my shirt, and without stopping to put on more gar- ments, I hurried on to the place thus pointed out to me. { reached the house at the very instant that some person was ine | it; pursuaded that it was Watrin, I attempt- ed to seize him; he escaped from me, and I darted after him up a staircase; but at the moment of grasping him, a violent blow which struck my chest, drove me down robes, stairs. I sprung forward again, and that so quickly, that to ae from my pursuit he was com- oot to return into the house throngh a sash window. then knocked loudly at the door, summoning him to open it without delay. This he refused to do. I then de- sired Annetti (who had followed me) to go in search of the guard, and whilst she was preparing to obey me, i counterfeited the noise of a man descending the stairs, Watrin, deceived by this feint, was anxious to satisfy him- self whether I had actually gone, and softly put his head sut of window to observe if all was safe. his was ex- actly what I wanted. I made a vigorous dart forward, and seized him by the hair of his head: he cat ty me in the same manner, and a desperate struggle took place; jammed net the partition wall which separated us, he opposed me with a determined resistance. Nevertheless, { felt that he was growing weaker; I collected all my etrength fora last effort; I strained every nerve, and drew bim nearly out of the window through which we were struggling: one more trial and the victory was mine; but in the earnestness of my grasp we both rolled on the passage floor, on to which I had pulled him: to rise, snatch from his hands the shoemaker’s cutting-knife with which he had armed himself, to bind him, and lead him out of the house, was the work of an instant. Accompanied onl by Annette, I conducted him to the prefecture, where received the congratulations first of M. Henry, and after- wards those of the prefect of police, who bestowed on me a pecuniary recompense. Watrin was a man of unusual address; he followed a coarse, clumsy business, and yet counterfeit money which required extreme delicacy of hand. Condemne to death he obtained a reprieve the very hour that was destined for his execution; the scaffold was prepared, he was taken down from it, and the lovers of such scenes experienced a disappointment. All Paris remembers it. A report was in circulation that he was about to make some rg important discoveries; but as he had nothing to reveal, a few days afterwards he underwent his sentence. Watrin was my first capture, and an important one too; this successful beginning awoke the jealonsy of the peace- officers, as well as those under my orders; all were exas- perated against me, but in vain; they could not forgive me for being more successful than themselves, he superiors, on the contrary, were highly pleased with an conduct; and I redoubled my zeal to render myself more prea | of their confidence. About this period a vast number of counterfeit five- franc pieces had got into general circulation; several of them were shown to me; whilst examining them, I fancied I could discover the workmanship of Bouhin (who had informed against me) and of his friend, Dr. Terrier. I re- solved to satisfy my mind as to the truth of this; and in consequence of this determination, I set abont watching the steps of these two individuals; but as I durst not follow them too closely, lest they might recognize me, and mistrust my observation, it was difficult for me to ob- tain the intelligence I wanted. Nevertheless, by dint of anwearied perseverance, I arrived at the certainty of my oot having mistaken the matter, and the two coiners were arrested in the very act of fabricating their base coin; they were shortly after condemned and executed for it, {t has been publicly asserted, in consequence of a report set on foot by the fn <ctors of the police, that Dr. Terrier had been led away by me, and that I had in a manner placed in his hands the instruments of his crime. Let the reader remember the reply which this man made tome, when, at Bouhin’s house, I songht to persuade him to renounce his guilty industry, and he will judge whether Terrier was a man to allow himself te be drawn away. | CHAPTER XXIII. TN 80 populous a capital as that of Paris, there are usu- ally a vast many places of bad resort, at which assemble rsons of broken fortune and ruined fame; in order to udge of them under my own eye, I frequented every vuse ard street of ill fame, sometimes under one disguise and sometimes under another; assuming, indeed, all those rapid changes of dress and manner which indicated a yerson desirous of concealing himself from the observa- tion of the police, till the rogues and thieves whom I daily met there firmly believed me to be one of themselves; persuaded of my being a runaway, they would have been eut to pieces before I should have been taken: for not only had I acquired their fullest confidence, but their atror gest re ; and somuch did they respect my situa- tion, as a fugitive galley-slave, that they would not even propose to me to join in any of their daring schemes lest S RS compromise my safety. All, however, di not e this delicacy, as will be seen hereafter, _ Some months had passed since I commenced my secret investigations, when chance threw in my way St. Ger- main, whose visit had so often filled me with consterna- tion. He had with him a person named Bondin, whom [ had formerly seen as a restaurateur in Paris in the Rae des Pronvaires, and of whom no more arose from Vidocq, the French ' retired to bed earlier than | xly occasionally exchanging my money for his dinners. He, however, seemed easily to recollect me, an addressing me with a bold familiarity, which my determined coolness seemed unable to siblus. “Pray,” said he, “have I been guilty of any offence towards you, that you seem so resolved upon cutting me?” ‘ By no means, sir,”’ replied I; “‘but I have been informed that you have been in the service of the police.” ‘Oh, ob, is that all?” cried he; “‘ never mind that, my boy; a tee I have, what then! I had my reasons; and when I tell you what they were, I am quite sure you will not bear me an ill will for it.” ‘**Come, come,” said St. Germain, “ must make you good friends! Boudin is an excellent fel- low, and I will answer for his honor, as I would do for my own, Many a eng | happens in life we should never have dreamt of, and if Boudin did accept the situation you mention, it was but to save his brother; besides you must feel satisfied, that were his principles such as a gentle- man ought not to possess, why, you would not find him in my company.’’ Iwas much amused with this excel- lent reasoning, a8 well as with the pledge given for Bou- din’s good faith; however, I no lounger sought to avoid the conversation of Boudin, It was natural enough that St. Germain should relate to me all that happened to him since his last disappearance, which had given me such pleasure. After complimenting me on my flight, he informed me that after my arrest he had recovered his employment, which he, however, was not fortunate enough to keep; he lost it a second time, and had since been compelled to trust to his wits to procure a4 subsistence. I requested he would tell me what had become of Blondy and Deluc? “What,” said he, “the two who slit the wagoner’s throat! Oh, why the guillotine settled their business at Beauvais."’ Wher I learned that these two villains had at length reaped the just reward of their crimes, I expe- rienced but one regret, and that was, that the heads of their worthless accomplices had not fallen on the same scaffold. After we had sat together long enough to empty several bottles of wine, we separated. At parting, St. Germain having observed that I was but meanly clad, inquired what I was doing, and as I carelessly answered that at resent I had no occupation, he promised to do his best or me, and to push my interest the first opportunity that offered. I suggested that, as I very rarely ventured out for fear of being arrested, we might not possibly meet in for some time, ‘‘ You can see me, whenever you choose,’’ said he; “‘I shall expect that you will call on me frequently.” Upon my promise to do so, he gave me his address, without once thinking of asking for mine, St. Germain was no longer an object of such ex- cessive terror as formerly in my eyes. I even thought it my Interest to keep him in sight, for if I applied myself to scrutinizing the actions of suspicious persons, who better than he called for the most vigilant attention? In a word, I resolyed of purging society of such a monster. Meanwhile I wayed a determined war with all the crowd of rogues who infested the capi- tal. About this time robberiés of every species were multiplying to a frightful extent; nothing was talked of but stolen palisades, out-houses broken open, roofs stripped of their lead; more than twenty reflecting lamps were successively stolen from the Rue Fontaine au Roi, without the plunderers being detected. For a whole month the inspectors had been lying in wait in order to surprise them, and the first night of their discontinuing the eens the same depredations took place. In this state, which appeared like setting the police at defiance, I accepted the task which none seemed able to accom- plish, and in a very short time I was enabled to bring the whole band of these shameless plunderers to public jus- tice, which immediatel come hy them to the galleys, Each day increased the number of my discoveries. Of the many who were committed to prison, there were none who did not owe their arrest to me, and yet not one of them fora moment suspected my share in the business. I managed so well, that neither within nor without its walls, had the slightest suspicion transpired. The thieves of my acquaintance looked upon me as their best friend and true comrade; the others esteemed themselves happy to have an opportunity of initiating me in their secrets, whether from the pleasure of conversing with me, or in the hope of benefiting -? oY counsels. It was principal- ly beyond the barriers that I met with these unfortunate beings. One day that I was crossing the outer Boule- vards, I was accosted by St. Germain, who was still ac- companied by Boudin. They invited me to dinner; I accepted the proposition, and over a bottle of wine they did me the honor to propose that I should make a third in an intended murder. The matter in hand was to despatch two old men who lived together in the house which Boudin had formerly occupied in the Rue des Prouvaires. Shuddering at the confidence placed in me by these villains, I yet blessed the invisible hand which had led them to seek my aid. At first I affected some scruples at entering into the plot, but at last feigned to yield to their lively and pressing solicitations, and it was agreed that we should wait the favorable moment for putting into execution this most execrable project. This resolution taken, I bade farewell to St. Germain and his companion, and (decided upon preventing the meditated crime) hastened to carry a re- port of the affair to M. Henry, who sent me without loss of time to obtain more ample details of the discovery I had just made to him. 8s intention was Lo satisfy himself whether I had been really solicited to take part in it, or whether, from a mistaken devotion to the cause of justice, I had endeavored to instigate those unhappy men to an act which would render them amenable to it. I pro- tested that I had adopted no such expedient, and as he discovered marks of truth in my manner and declara- tion, he expressed himself satisfied. He did not, how- ever, omit to impress on me the following discourse upon instigating agents, which penetrated my very heart. Ah, why was ft not also heard by those wretches, who since the revolution have made so many Victims! The renewed era of legitimacy would not then in some circumstances have recalled the bloody days of another epoch. ‘“ Re- member well,’ said M. Henry to me, in conclusion, “remember that the greatest scourge of society is he who urges another on to the commission of evil. “Where there are no instigators to bad practices, they are com- mitted only by the really hardened; because they alone are capable of conceiving and ee them. Weak beings may be drawn away and excited; to precipitate them into the rs it frequently requires no more than to call to your aid their passions or self-love; but he who avails himself of their weakness to procure their destruc- tion, is more tham a monster—he is the gnilty one, and it ia on his head that the sword of justice should fall. As to those engaged in the police, they had betterremain for- ever idle, than create matter for empioyment,” Although this leseon was not required in my tase. yet I Police Spy. 33 thanked M. Henry for it, who enjoined me not to lose sight of the two assassins, and to use every means in my power to prevent their arriving at the completion of their dia —--— —— bolical plan. ‘‘The police,’’ said he, “is instituted as much to correct and punish malefactors, as to prevent their committing crimes; but on every occasion I would wish it to be understood that we hold ourselves under greater obligations to that person wha prevents one crime, than to him who procures the punishment of many.” Con- formably with these instructions, I did not allow a single day to pass without seeing St. Germain and his friend Boudin. As the blow they meditated was to procure them a considerable quantity of gold, I concluded that I might, without overacting my part, affect adegree of impatience about it. ‘‘ Well,”’ said I to them, every time we met, ‘* and when is this famous affair to take place ?”’ “‘When!’ replied St. Germain, “ the fruit is not yet ripe; when the right time comes,’ added he, pointing to Boudin, ‘“* my friend there will let you know.” Already had several meetings taken place, and yet nothing was decidedly ar- ranged; once more I hazarded the usual question. ‘* Ah! ah!’ said St. Germain, ‘‘ my good friend, now I can sat- isfy your natural curiosity; we have fixed upon to- morrow evening, and only waited for you to deliberate upon the best way of going to work.”” The meeting was fixed a little way out of Paris. I was punctual to the time and place, nor did St. Germain keep me waiting. ‘* Hark ye,” said he, ‘‘we have reflected upon this affair, and find that it cannot be put into execution for the present. We have, however, another to propose to you, and I warn you, you must say at once, without any equiv- ocation, ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Before we enter upon the object of my coming hither, it is but fair I should let you into a little confidential story respecting yourself, which was told to me by one Carré, who knew you at La Force. The tale runs, that you only escaped its walls upon condition of serving the police as its secret agent!” At the words “ secret agent,” a feeling almost approach- ing to suffocation stole over me, but I quickly rallied upon perceiving that, however true the report might be, it had obtained but little faith with St. Germain, who was evidently waiting for my explanation or denial of it, without once suspecting its reality. My ever-ready genius quickly flew to my aid, and without hesitation I replied, “that I was not much surprised at the charge, and for the simple reason that I myself had been the first to set the rumor afloat.” St. Germain stared with wonder. “My good fellow,” said I, “‘you are well aware that I managed to escape from the police whilst they were transferring me from La Force to Bicétre. Well, I went to Paris and stayed there till I could go elsewhere. One must live, you know, how and where one can. Unfortu- nately, I am still compelled to play at hide and seek, and it is only by assuming a variety of disguises that I dare venture’ abroad, to look about and see just what my old friends are doing; but in spite of all my precautions, live in constant dread of many individuals, whose keen eye quickly penetrated my assumption of other namea and habits than my own; and who, having formerly been upon terms of familiarity with me, pestered me with questions I had no other means of shaking off than b insinuating that [ was in the pay of the police; and thus obtained the double advantage of evading in my character of ‘spy,’ both their ear ons and ill-will, should they feel disposed to exercise it in the procuring my arrest." ‘ Enough—enough,” interrupted Sts Germain; “I be- lieve you; and, to convince you of the unbroken confi- dence I place in you, I will let you into the secret of our plans for to-night. At the corner of the Rue d'Enghein, where it joins the Rue Hautville, lives a banker, whose house looks out upon a very extensive garden; a circum- stance greatly in favor both of our expedition and our escape after its completion. This same banker is now absent, and the cash-box, in which is a considerable sum in specie, besides bank notes, &c., isonly guarded by two persons. Well, you can guess the rest. We mean to make it our own, by the law of possession, this very evening. Three of us are bound by oath to do the — which will turn out so profitably. But we want another; and now that you have cleared your character and given scandal the lie, you shall make the fourth. Come, no re- fusal;—we reckon on your company and assistance, and if Pb refuse, you are a regular set-down sneak.”’ Was as eager in ceepene the invitation as St, Germain could posaibly be in giving it. Both Boudin and himself seemed much pleased with my zeal. Who my remaining coadjutor was I knew not, but my surmises on the sub- ject were soon settled b the arrival of & man, &@ perfect stranger to myself, named Debenne. He was the driver of a cabriolet, the father of a large family, and a man who, more from weak than bad principles, had allowed himself to be seduced bY the temptations of his guilty companions. Whilst a mixed conversation was going on between them, my thoughts were busily at work upon the best method of causing them to be taken in the very act they were then discussing. What was my consternation to hear St. Germain, at the moment we all rose to pay our ecore, address usin these words: ** My friends, when a man runs his neck into the com- ass Of a halter, it behooves him to keep a sharp Jook out. ‘e have this day decided upon playing a dangerous, but as | take it, a sure game; and in order that the chance may