Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 10 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

wee ww Spy: eee | ee ew — ————- ~ —— + + ee - - - we ee ee eee 0 o- - ae eee a te ee ee oe crease of terror, that I really believe he imagined himecdt my longing lingering look. I, however, made the reflec- tion which had before snggested itself, that curtains. of whatever shade, have not the immobility of an original hump; and I resolved not to retire until I had some con- verse with the enchanting little lump of deformity, whose ance had so truly enchanted me. I surmised, that in spite of my disappointment with regard to one of the main circumstances described for my bayer yet that a conversation would elicit some useful information to hten my path. determined to ascend the staircase; and on getting up to the first a oe inquired for ‘‘a little lady rather deformed.’’—* Oh, it is the seamstress you want,” was the reply, attended by a significant grin. ‘“ Yes, the seamstress 1 want; a person who has one shoulder some- what higher than the other.” Again I was laughed at, and her apartment pointed out as on the third story. Althongh her neighbors were very complaisant, I was rather nettled at their chuckling and laughing; it was ex- ceedingly unpolite; but such was my tolerance, that I freely pardoned the expression of their mirth; and was not t at commendable in me? It preserved the character I had assumed. The door was shown to me; I knovked, and it was opened by my darling little Humpa herself; and after fifty apologies for the visit, I begged her to give me a few moments’ andience, adding, that I had personal business to discties with her. “* Mademoiselle,” said J, with a solemn tone, after she had seated me site fe herself, “you are ignorant of the motive which has led me hither; but when you shall know it, perhaps the step I have taken will excite your interest.’ The bump-backed damsel thought that I was going to make an open avowel; the color rushed to her cheeks, and her look became animated, although she cast her eyes en the ground. I continned— ‘* Doubtless, a will be astonished that at my age one ean be as deeply enamored as at twenty years old.” ‘“‘Ah, sir, you ate still young,” said the amiable poor, whose mistake I would not allow to be pro- nged. awrhy, retty well for that,”’ I added, ** but it is not of that I would speak. You know that in Paris it isnot an uncommon thing fora man and woman to live together without the benediction of holy Mother Church.” ‘*What do you take me for, sir, to make such &@ proposal to me?”’ cried the little Humpetta, without giving me time to finish my sentence. I smiled at her mistake, and con- tinued: ‘“‘I have no intention to mske any snch proposi- tion; I only request that you will have the goodness to give me some information respecting a ponns ady, who [ am told lives in this house with a gent eman who passes for her hueband.’’—**I know nothing at all about it,”’ an- swered my little lady, very snappishly. I then gave’her a tolerably accurate description of Fossard and the demois«lle Tonneau, his lady. ‘* Ah, I now know,” said she; *‘ a mapof your figure and size, about thirty or five-and-thirty years of age, a good- looking gentleman: the lady, a pretty brunette, beautiful eyes, lovely teeth, charming mouth, mages’ eyelashes, dark brows, nose a little turned UP; with a most engag- tng and modest demeanor. They did live here, but they have removed.” I entreated her to give me their new address; and on her reply, that she did not know it, I weepingly besought pe ald n the recovery of an angratfolcrenire, whom fondly, dotingly loved, er : . The peg Ra ret was somennealy\i7 The sere I shed moved her tender heart; and feeling that I had gained ground, I pecame more and more pathetic. ‘* Ah? her tnfidelity will cauee my death: pity, commiserate a wretched husband; I conjure you, do not conceal from me her retreat, and i shal owe you more than life.” Your hump backedwomen are compassionate; more- over, a husband is, in their eyes, so inappreciable a treas- ure; and as they are not possessed of one, they cannot Imagine how any one can be unfaithful; and thus my seamstress held infidelity in abhorrence. She sin- cerely pitied me, and raid she would do all in her power to serve me. “ Unfortunately,” she added, “ their goods robb been remoyed by porters not belonging to the dis- ae completely ignorant of where they have gone, or what has become of them; but would yon like to see the landlady?” As I had no doubt of her & neerity, I went to see the landlady, but all I learned from her was, that they had paid for the term 1 agreed on, and had not left tidings of their new abode. pt having discovered Fossard’s old lodging, I was no forwarder than at first; but I would not abandon the est without exhausting every chance and enquiry that would suggest itself. Usually the porters of the varicis districts know each other; and I inte ted those of the Rue du Petit Carreau, to whom I introduced myself as a wronged husband; and one of them pointed out to me a comrade who had aided in the removal of my rival's goods and chattels, 1 saw this individnal, and told him my concerted story; but he was a cunning chap, and intended to trick me. i pretended not to perceive it; and, as a recompense for promising that he wonld conduct me the next day to the lace where Foseard had pitched his tent, I gave him two ve-franc pieces, which were spent the same day at the Corrtille, fn company with the lady he “‘ protected.” ‘This interview was on the 2ith of December, and we were to meet again the next day; and to fulfill my asser- tion of the ist of January, there was not much time to lose. I was punctual at the rendezvous; and the porter, whom I had caused to be watched by some agents, was peharey the time and place. Some more five-franc pieces changed masters from my purse to his, and I paid for his breakfast. We then started, and we arrived at a very ty house at the corner of the Rue Duphot aud that of t Honoré. ‘ Now,” said he, **we must ask the vint- ner just by if they are still here.” He wanted me toregale him again. I did not refuse; and we entered the shop, where we emptied a bottle of good wine: I then left him, fully assured of the residence of my pre- tended wife and her seducer. I had no farther oc- easion for my guide, and dismissed him with a mark of my gratitude; but to be sure that he did not betray me, th the hope of being doubly paid, I ordered the te to watch him closely, and to prevent his returning to vintner’s. As well as I remember, to preclude all ossibility of his so doing, they put him in the guard- se: in euch cases we are not over particular; and, to be sincere, it was I who put him in the stone doublet, which was but a just retaliution. ‘‘My friend,” said I to him, “T have left with the police a note of five hundred franca, destined to reward the man who shall successfully aid me in recovering my ite It ie now yours; and I will eve you a note which will enable you to secure it; and ve him # small note to M. Henry, who, on perusal, said a police-officer, “ duct this A doy eee to the chest." Che chest was ip this instance Sylveatre-Obamber @ ee ee | i of confinement) where my friend the porter, had a | ittle leisure for salutary reflection. I was not certain of Fossard’s residence, but yet relied on the indications given to me, and I was provided with the necessary power for his apprehension. Then the ‘*richard du Mairas ” (the rich old man of the Marias) was suddenly metamorphosed into a coalman; and in this cos- tume, under which neither the mother who bore me, nor any of the ae of the police, who saw me daily, could have recognized me, I employed myself in studying the ground on which I should so shortly be compelled to maneceuvre. The friends of Fossard—that is, his denouncers— had advised that the agents employed in his apprehension should be warned that be was always provided with a dag- ger and pistols, one of which latter, with double barrels, was concealed in acambric handkerchief which he always held in bis hand. This information called for precaution; and besides from the known désperation of Fossard’s character, it was certain that, to avoid a confinement worse than death he would not hesitate about a murder. I felt no anxiety to become his victim; and thought that it would sensibly diminish my chance of peril, if I came to a previous understanding with the vintner whose tenant Fossard was. The vintner was a good fellow enough, but the police is always in such ill odor, that it is no easy matter to procure the assistance of honest men. mined to bring him over to my side, by making it much to his interest to do so. I had visited his house several times in my double disguise, amd had leisure to make my- sel acquainted with all the localities, as well as with the sort of visitors who came there. I then went in my usual dress, and accosting the man, told him I wisted to speak with him in private. He took me intoa small room, when I thus addressed him:— “*I have to inform -you, from the police, that a plan is formed to rob your house; the thief who has devixed the means, and who probably intends, perpetrating the rob- bery himself, lodges in your honse; the female who lives with him comes sometimes behind your counter, sees your wife, and whilst conversing with her, has contrived to get the impression of the key which opens the door by which the proposed entry is to be made. All is arranged; the alarum is to be cut with nippers whilst the dooris ajar; once inside, thay will ascend quickly to your cham- ber; and if they have a ee that you are awake, as it is a perfect ruffian who concerts the project, there is no need for me to tell you what will ensue... ‘* The will cut our throats,” said the alarmed vintner, and then cal- led his wife to communicate the intelligence—‘Oh, my love, seg dpa we live in—trust nobody! That madame Haz- ard, who seemed too good to have a sin to confess—would ou believe we ewes | contemplates the cutting of our hroats! This very night they will come anda settle the business,”"—** No, no, be quiet,’’ I replied, ‘* not this night; the till is not full enough, they wait until the fittin time; but if you are discreet and will second me, we wi defeat them.” Madame Hazard was Mademoiselle Tonneau, who had assumed the name by which Fossard was known in the house; and I desired the vintner and his wife, who were gladly led by me, to treat their lodgers as usual. It need not be asked how willingly they followed my instructions; and it was agreed between us that10 see Fossard go out, and to be able to decide on the best time to seize on him, I should ensconce myself in a small closet under the stairs, At an early hour on the 29th December, I betook my- self to my station; it Was desperately cold, the watch was a protracted one, and the more painful as we had no fire; motionless, however, and my eye fixed against a small hole in the shutter, I kept my post. At last about three o'clock, he went’ ont; I followed, gladly, and, recognized him; for up to that period I had my doubts. Certain now of his identity, I wished at that moment to put into ex- ecution the order for his rd but the officer who was with me said he saw the terrible pistol, That I might authenticate the fact, 1 walked quickly and passed Fos- sard: and them returning, saw clearly that the agent was right. To attempt to arrest him would have been useless, and I resolved to6 defer it; and on ae to mind that a fortnight before I had flattered myself with the prospect of apprehending Fossard on the Ist of January, I was not displeased at the delay; but till then my vigilance was not to be relaxed for a single instant. On the 3lst of December, at eleven o'clock, when all my batteries were charged and my plans perfect, Fos- sard returned, and without distrust ascended the stair- case shaking with cold; and twenty minutes after, the disappearance of the light indicated that he was in bed, The moment had -tiow arrived. The commissary and gendarmes, summoned by me, were waiting at the nearest guard-house until I should call them, and then enter quietly; we deliberated on the most effectual mode of reiz- ing Fossard without running the risk of being killed or wounded; for they were persuaded that unless surprised this robber would defend himself desperately. Ny first thought was to do nothing till daybreak, as I had been told that Fossard's eg mama went down very = to get the milk; we should then seize her, and after having taken the key from her, we should enter the room of her lover; but might it not my that, contrary to his usual custom, he might go out first! This reflection led me to adopt another expedient. The vintner’s wife, in whose favor, as I was told, M, Hazard was much prepossessed, had one of her nephews at her house,.a lad. about ten years of age, intelligent be- yond his-years, and the more desirous of getting mone as he was a Norman. I promised him a reward on condi- tion that under pretence of his Aunt’s being taken sud- denly ill, he should go and beg Madame Hazard to give him some Hau de Cologne. I desired the little chap to as- sume the most piteous tone he could; and was so well satisfied with a specimen he gave me, that I began to dis- tribute the parts to my. performers, The dénouement wag near at hand, .I made all my party take off their shoes, doing the same mysclf, that we might not be heard whilst ing up stairs, The little snivelling peek was in his shirt; e rang the bell—no one answered; again he rang:— ** Whose there?’’ was heard.—‘It is I, Madame Hazard: it is Louis; my poor aunt is very bad, and —_ you will be so very obliging as to give her a little Eau de Cologne —Oh! she is dying!—I have got a light.”’ The door was opened; and scareely had Mademoiselle Tonneau presented herself, when two powerful gendarmes seized on her, and fastened a napkin over her mouth to prevent her crying out. At the same instant, with more rapidity than the lion when darting on his prey, I threw myself upon Fossard, who, stupefied by what was doing, and fast bound and confined in his bed, was my prisoner before he could make a single movement, or utter 4 ‘word, So great was his amazement, thiat it 'was nearly an hour before he could articulate even a few words. When a4 light was brought and he saw my black coalman, be experienced such aa in %? face, and garb of a I deter- in the devil's clutches. On coming to himself, he thought of his arms, his pistols and dagger, which were upon the table; and turning his eyes towards them, he made struggle, but that was all; fer reduced to the impossibilivy of doing any mischief, he was pass’ ¥¢, and contented hii self with “chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy.” On searching the domicile of this formidable brigand, a great quantity of jewels were found; diamonds and carb to the amount of eight or ten thousand france. Fos-aiu having recovered his spirits, told me thatunder the mavr- ble of the chimney-piece were teu notes of a thousau J francs each. ‘Take them,” said he; “ we will divide, or you shall take as mach as you please.” I took the notes, and getting into a fiacre, we soun reached M. Henry's office, where we deposited the bwoty found in Fossard’s apartment. On making out the inventory, when we came to the last item, the commissary, who had accompanied me in the enterprise, said, ‘It now only remains to con- clude the procés-verbal.’’—** Stay one moment,’ I criez, “here are ten thousand france which the prisoner hss handed over tome.” I displayed this sum, to the grest regret of Fossard, who gave me one of those looks which would say, * This is a turn I will never forgive.” Fossurd entered early on a career of crime. Born of re- utable parents, he had received a good education; his riends had done all in their power to divert him from his vicious courses, but in epiie of good advice, he had thrown himself headlong into the vortex of bad company. He began by stealing trifling articles; but soon «fter, Castile acquired a decided taste for such pursuits, and blushing, no doubt, at being confounded with ordinary robbers, ‘petty larceny knaves,’’ he adopted what the gentlemeé: style, a *‘ distinguished line.”* The famous Victor Desboia and Noél with the Spectacles, who now honor the Bagne at Brest with their distinguished presence, were his asso ciates; and they committed together those robberies which led to their imprisonment for life. Noel, whose talents as a musician, and in his quality of teacher of the piano-forte, got access to all the rich houses, took impres- sions of the keys, which Fossard then fabricated. It was an art in which he defied Georget and all the locksmiths in the world to surpass him; however complicated the lock, however ingenious and difficult the secret, nothing resisted the efforts of his skill. It may be easily conceived what advantage he made of such a pernicious talent; being, moreover, aman whe could insinuate himself into the company of honest per. sons, and then dupe them. Besides, he was a close and frigid character, to which he added courage and per:ever- ance. His comrades regarded him asthe prince of thiever; and in fact a the * tip-top cracksmen”" that is, in the aristocracy of robbers, I never knew but Cognard, Pontis, Comte de St. Héléne, and Jossas, who were at all compar- able with him. ' After I had reinstated him at the Bagne, Fossard ofteu attempted to escape. Some liberated pri-oners who hays lately seen him, have assured me that he only longs fur liberty, that he may avenge himself on me. They say he has threatened to kill me. If the accomplishment of this kind intention depended solely on him, I ain sure he wou) d keep his word, if it were only to give a proof of his in trepidity. Two circumstances that have been told me, wil give some idea of the man. One day Fossard was about to commit a robbery in ar appartment on the second wena 6 his comrades, who were watching without, were stup d enough te allow the ro rietor to ascend the staircase; and he, on puiting th, ' nto the door, opened it, went through several rooms, «hi on getting to an inner closet, saw the thief at work; but Fossard, putting himself on the difensive. escuped. A ‘window was open near him, and, dartingout of) it, he fell nee the street without injury, and disappeared as swift ar ghtning. Another time, whilst he was sdcaping he was surpris: @ on the tiles of Bicétre, and fired at. ossard, never dis- concerted, continued to walk along without stopping co: hastening hie steps, and getting to that side which looks into the fields, he sliddown. ‘The fall was enonyl»to have broken a hundred necks, but he received no hurt; only the slide was so rapid that his clothes were rent in shred». CHAPTER XXX. I po not think that amongst the readers of these Memoirs one will be found who, even by chance, has set foot at Guillotin’s, an unsophisticated aduiterer of wines, wlioss establishment, well known to the most degraded classes of robbers, is situate opposite to the Clouque Desnoyers, which the raff of the Barriére call the drawing-room) of la Constille. A workman may be honest to a certain extent and venture in en "meena to papa Desnoyers. if he be awake and keep his eye on the company, althouwh a row should commence, he may, by the aid of the gendurmies, escape with only a few biows, and pay no one’s scot but his own. At Guillotin’s he will not come off so well, par- ticularly if his toggery be over spruce, and his pouch lias chink in it, Picture to yourself, reader, asquareroom of considerable magnitude, the walls of which, once white, have been blackened by every especies of exhalation, Sucli is, in a | its simple modesty, the aspect of a temple consecrated ia the worship of Bacchus and Terpsichore. At firat, by a very natural optical illusion, we are struck by the confined aes before us, but the eye, afier a time, piercing throuvh the thick atmosphere of a thousand vapors which are most indorons, the extent becomes visible by details which