Beadle's Dime Library No. 157 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

| -we of the pecnie. psa _ Mourad, the Mameluke. a ———— —$_—__— Out on the high-rcad Lafangere asked St. the general. Oh, you may stare. You don’t | tramps seemed to handle their long cudgels like George: Iecan be an ‘* Tf it’s all the same to you, comrade, I’d like to know where you propose to go?” | rob an Austrian ary day than a Frenchman.” “Certainly,” was the answer. ‘“‘lam going The sentiment was gieeted with applause, for to the forest of Fontainebleau.” _of the group in the forest most were deserters _ from different armies, and the remains of old CHAPTER XIII uniforms were on them, except on the body of j the branded man. IN THE FOREST. | ‘* Yes,” continued Casse Tete, ‘‘a man must OvT in the middle of the Forest of Fontaine- | live somehow, and when he was bere, he took bleau a group of a dozen men sat round the | us into the enemy’s country and gave us liberty smoldering embers of a little fire and talked to to plunder after a battle. But now, parbleu, each other in thieves’ slang. _we'’re beaten everywhere, and reduced to rob- Said one, a beetle-browed ruffian, with a red | bing our own people under this cowardly batch mark on his forehead, aepes like a fl.-ur-de lis | of knaves they call a Directory—hola! Game!” and evidently branded there, many years be- | He broke off as a shrill whistle rung through fore, with a hot iron: _ the forest, the signal of their sentry that travel- “The Directory suits me very well, brothers, | ers worth robbing were coming along the road. since that little devil, Bonaparte, is gone to| Ina moment the men jumped up, with all Egypt. There’s more money for us when he is | sorts of rusty weapons. | know I was in Italy with him. away than when he’s home, and [ hope he'll, Carbines, old muskets, long horse-pistols, one die of the plague out there.” or two old sabers, were among them, and they ‘*For my part I want to see His Sacred and | ran off to the edge of the wood that commanded Most Christian Majesty back,” rejoined a second | the road to Paris, where they saw a traveling rufian, ‘‘mtired of your republic. A pretty carriage, with four horses coming slowly up a republic, where a man can’t ask for a purse long ascent. without having gendarmes come after him!, Waiting till it was near by, they rushed out, The guillotine is just as bad as the old gallows: | seizing the horses’ heads, and Casse Tete, Jam a man who et to go to church—” _ throwing open the door, red in. ** Yes; to pick pockets,” broke in a third. | He beheld two persons Inside, a stout old gen- Well, suppose L.do, what then? Now there | tleman and a young lady, who shrunk behind are no crowds for all the churches are shut. .To her father, cad cried faintly: pick a pocket one must have a fine coat and **Oh, heavens!” money to go to the theater, where people, more- ** Don’t be alarmed, monsieur; have no fear, over, are en the look-out for one, No; I want mademoiselle,” said Casse Tete politely. ‘‘We to see the king and tho clergy back.” | will not hurt you; but we require your money ‘King and clergy, indeed,” growled the _and jewelry. One must live, you know, and branded man. ‘ You're young, Casse/Tete, and | the Directory gives a man no chance nowa- ou don’t remember what devils they were. | days.” ook at my face. Galeys for life, you say? | ‘ But this is infamous,” broke in the old gen- Yes, but what for? Do you know?’ | tleman, who had at first remained as if para- ‘Faith, not I. Did you, too, pick pockets in | lyzed by astonishment. ‘‘ Do you know who it church, Gros Pierre?” is you have the audacity to stop?” **Pick pockets in church! no, not L. But I | ‘* Parbleu, no, and I don’t care,” returned the was a peasant, and my mea“ r in those days. brigand coolly. ‘Come, no nonsense.” was a@ marquis—te Marquis of St.George. He | The click of bis long horse-pistol as he cocked had estatcs in Provence and Normandy, and | it caused the young lady to scream out: out in the Antilles, Weil, he was a bad fellow, ‘* No, no, for merey, don’t kill my father.” this marquis—” As she spoke she actually pulled the old man ‘That goes without saying,” interrupted sev- | back into the corner, and stood in front of him. eral voices. ‘‘ All marquises are bad. Go on, ‘“You are mad,” she exclaimed. ‘*‘Do you Gros Pierre, To tbe story!” not know that this is Monsieur Rewbell, and ‘Yes, the story. All youthink of is the story, that if you hurt us all the power of the police when ib was all my life before they sent me to | will be upon you?” the gaileys. 1 hada sister, and this marquis Casse Tete uttered a low whistle and drew sent for her to his castle. She was to be mar- ck, : ried the nm xt day, but she was pretty. So what ‘* Parbleu, comrades,” he said, ‘* tis Rewbell, would you? My lord must be amused, and we | one of the Directors. What shall we do? Let were only peasants. He had some law in his | him go?’ favor, and be said he liked the girl. She should | ‘ Let him go? No,” growled Gros Pierre. ‘‘ If siay in the castle and her husband should not | he be a Director, so much the better. He is the have ber. I went to the castle and I begged | cause of half the trouble in France. Let him Lim on my knees—yes, brothers, on my knees— | pay his way or search the carriage. Who knows? to spare the honor of my family, whose ances- | Perhaps the old thief has some of the people’s tors had been faithful to his for centuries. One | money in there.” of us saved one of the St. Georges from an En- The old man would probably have been glish ax at the battle of Cressy. Brothers, he si out in another minute, had not the only laughed at me.” , watchful sentry signaled more people coming The sweat stood out on the brow of the con- | down the road from the top of the hill, where vict over the degrading brand, as he told bis | three ragged tramps soon made their appearance story, and the roughest. became silent, till Casse armed only with long sticks of rough wood, cut Tete asked soberly: in the forest. ‘Well, what did you do?” As soon as the young lady beheld these men ‘‘T took a knife with me in my bosom,” said | through the front window of the carriage she the convict hoarsely, ‘‘ and I let bim haveit then. | suak b..ck by her father, murmuring: He stopped laughing. ’ | ‘‘Oh, beavens, we are lost! Here are more ‘“No, more’s the pity. Had he died, I should The old man was trembling all over, and mut- have swung and the trouble have all been over. | tered: But he got well, and 1 was sent to the galleys ‘Give them your watch. They may let us for life. However, I got even with himat last.” | pass then.” ‘* How?’ asked Casse Tete. “Tn ninety-two, on the tenth of August. I was with the rest.’ They understood him then. The tenth of August, 1792, was the day the mob took Louis XVI from the Tuileries and killed the Gardes du Corps. ‘* Yes,” pursued the convict absently. ‘I had been released from the galleys by the order of the National Assembly on account of my being charged with no crime but stabbing a noble, and | was in the crowd that took the The girl was drawing it forth, when the three tramps on the top of the hill suddenly gave a te and came running down on the robbers, randishing their long staves with both hands in such vigorous style that Casse Tete cried out: **Give it to them, comrades.” : As he spoke he fired off his old horsepistol hastily, and the other men tried to imitate him but with still less success, for most of their wea- pons were mere dummies, only meant to scare timid travelers, and the others had been loaded so long thev would not hep ‘Did you kill him?” asked one man. of the wretches.” Tuileries. I saw him as I rushed on, with my The upshot of it was t the three tramps, pike ae 2 with the rest. He knew me, | who were active and vigorous men, came run- brothers. e did notlaugh, then. ‘Remember | ning down and laid about them with their bi Manon’ I said to him as I ran him through, and [laughed in my turn then. But I will admit | of a dozen took to flight, to pick up stones. that he died game. Had we been alone, he Then one of the tramps shoated to the postil- might even have got the best of me, for he was | lions fiercely: - a good fighter. But there were too manyofus,| ‘‘ Why don’t yéu run, you fools? Do you ex- Ab well, those days were | pect us tostay here all day?” clubs in such slashing style that the whole ban good; but they are gone now. The aristocrats The astounded postillions, recovering their are all dead,” senses, laid on the whip, and the carriage rum- ‘** Don’t believe it,” retorted Casse Teto, in an | bled away to the top of the hill, the three obstinate tone, “ There are aS many as ever, . tramps a it, while the robbers, in only waiting till the Prussians and Austrians | amazement at e very audacity of the exploit, could only follow ata faint-hearted sort of a trot, and not as if they really wanted to catch any one. The fact was that they were so astounded at the boldness and especially at the powers of these three tramps, that they were afraid to venture a second assault. They had but poor weapons, and the three come into nee, to come with them. The only man that could keep them out is gone awa .” , “ And who is he?” asked Gros Pierre. ‘‘General Bonaparte, parbleu. If he were back I wouldn’t be here to-day.” ‘Why not?” ** Because, parbleu, I’d go to the wars with --___-- —_ —— ll honest man on cecasion, and I would rather | | masters of arms. Casse Tete lay senseless in the ‘ad, Gros _ Pierre had an arm broken, and the jesser fry were not anxious to make any further acquain- tance with such ugly customers. As soon as the carriage reached the top of the hill, Monsieur Rewbell looked out of the back window, and called out: ‘*Get on, my friends. Get on.” It required no second invitation, for a long descent was before them, and the three tramps aes up, two behind and one on the box. hen they had got to the bottom of the hill the robbers were out of sight, and one of the tramps called to the postillions: ‘* Halt! that willdo. We want to get off.” The carriage stopped, and he got off and came to the door, where he bowed with the grace of a gentleman, saying: ‘** Lhope mademoiselle will excuse our peculiar method of proceeding; but there are half a million of francs in gold under the seat of that carriage. We don’t wish to be greedy, but we must request that you furnish us twelve thou- sand francs, which the nation owes us for money lost in its service.” Monsieur Rewbell fell back in his seat in mingled anger and terror. ‘* Mon Dieu, Claire,” he exclaimed, ** they are worse robbers than the others.” ‘*Pardon me, no,” replied the tall dpe ‘* We are officers from the army of Egypt. e are-refused everything when we come bome, because we serve General Bonaparte. The money under that seat belongs to the treasury, and you are taking it home to your house, monsieur. We want our pay now. If you are wise, you will hand it out. Then you can drive on. Monsieur Rewbell looked at them in a doubt- ful way; then dived under the seat, fished out two leather bags, and threw them to the tall tramp. ‘** There it is. Now let us drive on,” he said. ‘““Thank you, monsieur, but not till I have counted the money,” was the cool reply. CHAPTER XIV. MADEMOISELLE CLAIRE. WHEN Monsieur Rewbell beard the cool reply of the tramp he became at once confused, and stammered: “It is needless. I made a mistake. There are only five thousand francs in each bag. Here, take another. That is more than you asked.” ‘By no means, monsieur,” replied the other. ‘*T wish you to understand that we are not rob- bers, but soldiers who have lost their money in the service of the State. I will take only what we lost,” and he quietly proceeded to count out the requisite sum from the third bag, the postillions sitting still on their borses as men who had no interest in the matter. When he had finished he emptied the rest into Mademoiselle Claire’s lap, and drew back with a bow, saying: ‘“You are now at liberty to proceed. Hed we not rescued you, the gentry in the forest would have taken all, and perhaps insulted mademoiselle. 1 trust you will rendeaieg that in extenuation of what is, I admit, questionable conduct on our part, only justified by necessity.” ‘* You are three rob if answered the old = poy yr ‘and Foor rot atthe ~ easure of seeing you guillotine ope, a three of ou.” Ging $8: But Mademoiselle Claire bestowed a sweet smile on the tall tramp. ‘* I think you have been very Pacer ds said, ‘‘and I think you are unreasonable, my father; for any one can see these gentlemen are only in sguise. Farewell, messieurs.” sunk back in ber corner, the door was closed, and the carriage rattled away, leaving ~ three tramps in the road by the side of the orest. Then Lafangere burst out laughing ‘ Upon my word, St. George, this is a pretty adventure for an cflicer of the French army. Do you know we have become footpads, all of a sudden?” ' “In war all things are fair,” rejoined the creole. ‘‘We came back to France, as you know, penniless, and what was our reception? We were denied even the smallest re ition; treated as strangers; the general’s order dis- honored. We had to cross the breadth of France in the character of be , and in the mean time, here are these five ki who call themselves Directors, stealing t ople’s money. Do you know how I suspe he had that gold under the seat of his carriage?” ‘No. I have been puzzling over that ever since you told us you were coming to Fontaine- bleau. How did you get scent of it?” “Simple e You remember when we went to Paris to find the general’s house?’ ‘**Of course.” ** And how we went tothe Government offices to see if we could get justice?” | ‘**] remember that too.” *“Well, while we waited in the hall, I heard the secretaries talking and one of them said to the other ‘I hea cts) ep, Te syeye) <=t8(c\o) ———