Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 10 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

—s — Vidocy, the French Police ee ——————EEIyI—EeEeEOo~———————— giaimed of me the fulfillment of my promise, and we sewed our post, which we had been ordered to keep till Wewa went towards the Palais Royal; a coffee-house was open, which we entered to warm ourselves, and having taken a bow! of hot wine we separated, each to go to his own home. AsI went towards mine, I reflected on what I was doing.—‘* What!” said I to myself, ‘ #0 soon forget instructions which have been given to me; thus to de- ceive the confidence of my superior; it is an unpardon- able baseness! My conduct not only seems reprehensible, but I think that it even deserves the most severe punish- ment.’’ I was in despair at having complied with the wishes of the inspectors; and resolute in repairing m fault, determined to return alone to the post assigne and pass the night there, even if I died on the spot. I then returned and ensconced myself in a corner, that I might not be seen by Delzéve, in case he should come. For an hour and a half I remained in this position, until my blood congealed, and I felt ay courage weakening, when suddenly a luminous idea shone upon me.—At a short distance was a dunghill, whose smoke betrayed a state of fermentation: this depot is called the lay-siall: I ran towards it; and having made a hole in one corner sufficiently deep to admit me up to my waist, I or ed into it, and a comfortable warmth soon re-established the circulation of my blood. At five in the morning, I was | still in my lurking-place, where I did very well, except from the fumes which invaded my nostrils. At length the door of the house, which was the one pointed out to ene opened to let out a woman, who did not shut it after nstantly, and without noise, I leaped from the Felon: and entering the court looked about me, but saw no light from any part. I knew that Delzéve’s associates had a peculiar way of whistling for him; it was the coachman’s whistle, and known to me; I imitated it; and, at the second attempt, I heard some one exclaim, ‘ Who calls ?” “Tt is the ‘chauffeur’ (a coachman from whom Del- zéve had learnt to drive) who whistles for the crab.” ‘Is it you ?” cried the same voice, which I knew to be Delzéve's. “Yes; the chauffeur wants you. Come down.” “T am coming—wait a minute.” “Tt ie very cold,” I replied; “‘ I will wait for you at the public house at the corner; make haste—do you hear ?”’ The public house was already open; for, on new-year’s they have custom betimes. ut I was not tempted to Selo: and that I might trap Delezéve, I opened the side door, ‘and then letting it shut with violence, without ac- erm ing out, I concealed myself under a flight of Boo n afterwards Delzéve came down, and on per- ceive him, I jam ed at al seized his collar, and holding 8 istol Breast, tel d him he was my pris- oner. ollow a * 7 said, “ ad make the slightest besides, | am not alone.” sign at your ab 2 with Pe vtlee. Delzéve made no answer, but fol- lowed me mechanically. I fastened his hands, and he was then incapacita from either resisting or flying from me. I hastened to convey him away, and the clock struck six as we entered the Rue du Rocher; a hackney-coach was passing, which I hailed, but the man seeing me cov- ered with hesitated, until I offered him double hire: and led by that, he condescended to take us up, and we were soon rolling over the pavement of Paris. To make assurance doubly sure, I tightened his wrist-cuffs, lest, having come to himself, he might have rebelled; and, although, in a personal conflict, should have been sure of victo yet, as I contemplated bringing him to a con- fession, 4 Gen unwilling to have any quarrel; and blows, which would have been inevitably the result of rebellion. would decidedly have produced this result. Delzave felt aware of the impossibility of escape, and I endeavored to ms him hear reason; that I might com- pletely wheedle him, I offered him seme refreshment, which he accepted; and the coachman eM ae procured us some wine, we kept driving about and drinking, with- termined as om et early, anil ‘persuaded that it would be ad- eres to Del- us to prolong our téte-A-téte, I i inet hy a place where we could have a private room. He was then quieted: and a appearing hopeless of escape, accepted my offer, and I took him to the Cadran Bleu; but, before we got there, he had already told me many pieces of importaut infor. mation as to the number of his accomplices still at large in Paris; andI felt convinced that, at table, he would make ‘a clean breast of it.” I made him understand that the only way to propitiate the favor of justice, was to confess all he knew; and to fortify his resolution in this case, I used some ar ye of a peculiar philosophy, which I have always employed with success in conso ing criminals; and at length, he was perfectly disposed to do all I wished, when the coach reached the cook-shop. | made him go up stairs first, and when I had orderec ‘the breakfast, 1 told him that being desirous of eating my meal at my ease, I must confine him as I wished. I agreed that he should be left sufficiently unshackled to exercise hie arms at the game of knife and fork; and, at table, no one could desire greater freedom. He was not at all of. fended at the proposition, and I thus contrived it:—with two napkins I tied each leg to the foot of his chair, three or four inches from the bar, which prevented him from we Phould go and breakfast attempting to rise without the risk of breaking his hea all. Oite breakfasted Nag much appetite, and promised to re- t before M. Henry all that he had ‘confessed to me. At Soon we left the café, Delzéve being well primed with omy and getting into a coach, quite friends and on good terms with each other, we reached the prefecture ten minutes nF M. Henry was then surrounded by lice-officers who were paying him the compliments - 4 e new-year "s day. I entered and addressed this salu- tation to him:—‘‘ I have the honor to wish you a happy and prosperous year, and to present to you the redoubt- ae This ia indeed, a new-year’s gift,” said M. Henry to me, when he perceived the prisoner, and then turning to the officers of peace and per oonee “Tt would be a desira- ble thing, gentleme of you should have a similar present to offer to your prefet.’’ Immediately afterwards he gave met jon rdieed oa patria ane ce ¥ muc g end take gome repose; I am much satisfied with your —_—_—__- CHAPTER XXVIL is very rare that r. fugitive galley-slave escapes with Rg intentlor of of amendment; J Teanently the § the aim is th ta). and then put in practice the vicious Pd sn oi cied PS A ak 37 risons, are schools in which they perfect themselves in the art of OER cele to themselves the — perty of an- other. Ne all celebrated robbers only became expert | after passing Lone time at the galleys. Some have un-. dergone five or six sentences before t ey became thorough | scoundrels; such as the famous Victor Desbois, and his comrade Mongenet, called Le Tambour during various visits to Paris, committed a vast many of those robberies on which people love to descant as proofs of boldness and address. These two men, who for many with eve ears were sent away chain, and as frequently escaped, were once more back again in Paris; the police got information of it, and I received the order to search for them. ll testi- fied that they had acquaintances with other robbers no less formidable than themselves. A music mistress, whose son, called Noel with the Spectacles, a celebrated robber, was suspected of harboring these thieves. Ma- dame Noel was a well-educated woman and an admirable musician; she was esteemed a most accomplished per- former by the middle class of tradespeople, who em- ployed her to give lessons to their daughters. She was well known in the Marais and the Quartier Saint Denis, where the polish of her manners, the elegance of her language, the gentility of her dress, and that indescriba- ble air of su veriority which the reverses of fortune can never atititely destroy, gave rise to the current belief that she was a motte of one of those numerous families to whom the Revolution had only left its hauteur and its regrets, o those who heard and saw her without being uainted, Madame Noel was a most interesting litt tle woman; and besides, there was something See in her situation; it was a mystery, and no one knew what had become of her husband. Some said that she had been early left in a state of widowhood; others that she had been forsaken; and a third that she was a victim of betrayal. I know not which of these conjec- tures approaches nearest to the truth, but I know very well that madame Noel was a little brunette, whose spark- ling eye and rougish look were softened down by that gentle demeanor which seemed to increase the sweetness of her smile and the tone of her voice, which was in the highest degree musical. There was a mixture of the angel and demo on in her face, but the latter perhaps pre- ponderated; for time had developed those traits which characterize evil thoughts. Madame Noel was obliging and good, but only towards those individuals who were at issue with justice; she re- ceived them as the mother of a soldier would welcome the comrade of her son. To insure a welcome with her, it was enough to belong to the same “‘ regiment’ as Noel with the Spectacles; and then as much for love of him and from inclination perhaps, she would do all in her power to aid, and was consequently looked upon as a ‘“mother of robbers.” At her house they found shelter: it was she who provided for all their wants; she carried her complaisance so far as to seek “jobs of work " for them; and when a passport was ee ae reguisite for their safety, she was not quiet until by some means she had succeeded in procuring one. Madame Noel had many friends among her own sex, and it was peta in one of their names that the passport was obtained powerful mixture of oxygenated muriatic acid obliterated the writing; and the descriptiou of the ——- who tas oho i, as well as the name which it suited his se to assume, replaced the feminine description. fa ame Noel had generally by her a supply of these accommodating passports, which were fille according to circumstances, and the wants of the party requiring such assistance. ll the galley-slaves were children of madame Noel, but those were the most in favor who could give her any account of her son; for them her devotion was bound- less; her house was sie en to all fugitives, who made it their rendezvous; there must be gratitude even amongst them, for the police were informed that they came frequently to mother Noel’s for the pleasure of seeing her only; she was the confidante of all their plans, all their adventures, all their fears; in fact, they com- municated all unreservedly, and never had cause to regret their reliance on her fidelity. Mother Noel had never seen me; “eA features were quite unknown to her, although she had requently heard of myname. There was then no difficulty in presenting myself before her, without giving her any cause for alarm; but to get her to point to me the hiding place of the men whom I sought to detect, was the end L aimed at, and I felt that it would be impossible to attain it without much skill and management. At first, I resolved on passing myself off as a fugitive valley- slave; but it was necessary to borrow the name of some thief, whom her son or his comrades had mentioned to her in advantageous terms. Moreover, a little resem. blance was positively requisite, and I endeavored to re- collect if there were not one of the oe -slaves whom | knew who had been associated with with the Spec- tacles, and I could not remember one of my age, or whose person and features at all resembled mine. At last, by dint of much effort of memory, I recailed to | mind one Germain, alias Royer, alias ‘* the Captain, who | had been an intimate acquaintance of Noel's, and al- | though our similarity was very slight, yet I determined on personating him. Germain, as well as myself had often escaped from the Bagnes, and that was ‘the coms point of resemblance between us; he was about my yut a smaller-framed man; he had dark brown hair, mind was light; he was thin, and I tolerably stout; his com. lexion was sallow and mine fair, with a very clear skin; calla Germain had an excessively long nose, took a a vast deal of snuff Whe sty ee his nostrils outside and stuffing ngs hin, ve him a peculiarly nasa tone of voice. a catch to do in personating Germain ; but the dimealty did not deter me; my hair, cut ala mode des bagnes, was dyed black, as well as my beard, after it ‘had attained a growth of eight days; to embrown my - countenance I washed it with white walnut liquor; and to perfect the imitation, I Lo magge 2 — per lip thickly with a kind of coffee-grounds, which I plastered on by a of arabic, and thus became as nasal in m as Germain . My feet were doctored with e rire fo I made blisters on them by rubbing in a cer- sition, of which I had ovtained the recipe at Brest. "Talo made the par wenn of the fetters; and when all my toilet was finished, dressed eee nm in the suitable garb. I had neglected noth could complete the metamorphosis;—neither thes ous nor the marks of those horrid “oe as L. The costume was perfect; and the onl was a hundred of those com- ceadcaatea’ Sak ge which —_ the solitudes of poverty, and which were, I belie ~ eee with locusts and one of the seven slaguta 0 of ol Egypt. I procured some for money; and as soon as they were a little accus- tomed te their new ch was the case, Drummer), who | , quainted with rome 1 directed m —— towards the residence of madame Noel, in the Rue Ticquetonne. I arrived there, and knocking at the door, she opened it: a glance convincing her how matters stood with me, she desired me to enter, and on finding myself alone with her, I told her who I was. ‘‘Ah, my poor lad,”’ she cried, “there is no occasion to tell me where you have come from; I am sure you must be dying with hunger!**— ‘ Oh yes wy answered, ‘‘I am indeed hungry; I| have taste« nothing for twenty-four hours.”’ Instanily, withs at far- none question, she went out, and returned w ith a dish of *s puddings and a bottle of wine, which she placed ofors me. did not eat, I actually devoured; I stutfed oral and all had disappeared without my saying a word between my first mouthful and my last. Mother Noel was delighted at my appetite, and when the cloth was removed she gave me a dram. ‘“*Ah, mother,”’ 1 ex- claimed, embracing her, ‘‘ you restore me to life; Noe! told me how good and kind you were; and I then bepan to give her a statment of how I had left her son cighteer days before, and gave her information of all the prisoners in whom she felt interested. The details were so true and well known, that she could have no idea that 1 was an impostor. ‘You must have heard of me,’’ I continued; “I have gone through many an enterprisr, and experienced many a reverse. I am Cal led Ge-wma'n, or the captain; you must know my name.’ ‘““Yes, yes, my friend,"’ she said, “I know you well; my son ‘and his friends have told me of your misfortunes: welcome, welcome, my dearcaptain. But heavens! what a state you are in; you must not remain in such a plight. I see you are infested with those wretched, tormentin beasts who—; but I will get you a change of linen, contrive something as a comfortable dress for you.”’ I expressed my gratitude to Madame Noel; and when I saw a good opportunity, without giving cause for the slightest suspicion, I as ‘ed what had become of Victor Desbois and his comrade Mongenet. ‘“ Desbois and ~ Tambour? Ah! my dear, do not mention them, I be you,”’ she replied; ‘‘that rogue Vidocq has given t - very great une asiness; since one J —— (Joseph Longue- ville, an old police inspector), whom they have twice met in the streets, told them hat there would soon be a search in this neat they have been compelled to cut and run to avoi wh taken.” ‘“ What,” cried I, with a disappointed air, ‘arc they no longer in Paris?”’ ‘“Oh, they are not very far distant,’ replied mother Noel; “ they have not quitted the environs of the “ great village’ (Paris); I dare say we shall soon see them, for I trust they will — pay me a visit. I think they will be delighted to find you here.” ‘*Oh, I assure you,’’ said I, ‘‘ that they will not be more de lighted at the meeting than myself; and if you could write to them, I am sure they would eagerly send for me to join them.’ “If I knew where they were,” replied mother Noel, ‘* 1 would go myself and seek for them to please you; but ‘Ido not know their retreat, and the best thing for us te do is to be patient and await their arrival.” In my quality of a new comer, I excited all madame Noel’s compassion and solicitude, and she attended to nothing but me. ‘Are you known to Vidocq and his two bull-dogs, Levesque and Com mpére!”” she inquired. Pane yes,’ was my reply; “they have caught me twice.”’ ‘“‘ In that case, then, be on your guard: Vidocq is ofte disguised; he assumes characters, costumes, and shape; to ee hold of unfortynates like yourself. ” e conversed me for two hours, when Madame Ner. offered me a foot-bath, which I accepted; and when it wus prepared, I took off my shoes and stockings, on which she discovered my wounded feet, and said with a most commiserating tone and manner, ** How I pity you; what must ° Da suffer! Why did you not tell me of this at first; you deserve to be scolded for it... And whilst thus re- proaching me, she examined my feet; and then nr and the blisters, drew a piece of worsted through each, an anointed my feet with a salve which she assured me would have the effect of speedily curing them.”’ The bath concluded, she brought me some clean /inen; and, as she thought of all that was needf ul, added a razor, recommending me to shave. ‘I shall then gee,”’ she added, “‘“about buying you some workman's cicthes, as that is the best aieee se for men who wish to unno- ticed; and besides, good luck will turn up, and then you will get yourself some new ones.’ As soon as was seme cleansed, mother Noel conducted me to a sleeping room, a small apartment which served as the workshop for false keys, the entrance to which was concealed by sev eral gowns hanging from a row of pegs. “ Here," said she, “is a bed in which your friends ve slept three o. four times; and you need not fear that the police will hunt you out; you may sleep sccure as a dormouse.”’ “Tam really in want of sleep,’ I replied, and begged her permission to take some repose, on which she left me to myself. Three hours afterwards I awoke, ard on getting up we renewed our conference. It was necessary to be armed at all points to deceive madame Noel; tiere was not a trick or custom of the Bagnes with w hich she was not thoroughly informed; she knew not only the names of all the robbers whom she had seen, but wus ac- particular of the life of a great many others; and related with enthusiasm anecdotes of the most noted, particularly of her son, for whom she had as much veneration as love. “The dear boy, you would be delighted to see him!" said I. * Yes yes, overjoyed.” os Well, it is a happiness you will socm enjoy; for Noel has made arrangements for an escape, and is now ovly awaiting the propitious moment.” Madame Noel was happy in the expectation of seeing pe and shed tears of tenderness at the very thougii's of it. In the course of conversation, mother Noel asked me if I had any affair (plan of | obbery) in contemplation; «td after having offered to procure me one, in case I was not rovided, she questioned me on m skill in fabricatine eys. I told her I was as adroit as Fossard. “If that be the case,” she rejoined, “I am easy, set ou sha! be soon furnished; for as you are so clever, I wi lgo and buy at the ironmonger’ 8 a key which you can fit to my safety lock, so that aoe will have ingress and egress w enever you require it I expressed. my fee of obligation am 80 great a proo