Beadle's Dime Library No. 157 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

— Mourad, the Mameluke. ae eee ae eee eee ee rest laughed, while Gohier pretended to be | other. ‘‘ What do I know of your Arcolas, “Oh, we've filled our pockets. By the by, shocked, and observed: ‘ For shame, gentlemen; I have invited the general to dinner to-morrow evening.’ Then they all laughed again, and Barras said with a sneer: ‘You have read in history of the fox who invited, the goose to a | banquet.’ That was all, for it suddenly seemed | Casse Tete?” ‘‘Nothing, Gres Pierre, nothing. I acquit you of all knowledge of honorable warfare.’ And Casse Tete laughed sneeringly. ‘IT know enough to rip out your heart if you sneer at me,” quoth Gros Pierre in a passion, to strike them that Mourad was listening, and | when Vidoeg cried: Birras told him there was no auswer.” ‘* Did he go out?” ‘Of course not. He understands no French, so Barras had to take him by the arm and point to the door. Then he understood and went,” ‘“* And from all this you conclude?” ‘‘That there is a plot to arrest the general at dinner at Gohier’s to-night.” _ Lafangere nodded bis head. ‘*T see. Very well. We will be there.” **No need of that.” “Why not?” ‘* Because the general will decline the little in- vitation at the very. last moment.” “Then what are we to do?” “T will tell you to-night. Meet moat the Bridge of Arcola when the clock strikes seven. It is dark at that time. Put on citizen’s clothes, but have a sword, pistols and a cloak to cover it all, Bring also a mask.” “ Diable! are we going to turn burglars?” “‘Perhaps, in the interest of France. You will not fail me?” ‘Of course not. But I must admit I don’t like this mysterious business in the dark. I'd much rather face a man boldly and let carte and tierce settle the business for us.” ‘‘My friend, there is a time for all things. ow many duels have you fought since you came to Paris?” ‘This year—let me see—” The Gascon seemed to be engaged in some abstruse calculation, counting on his fingers. At last he said: “Forty-seven with the ‘Whites,’ but only forty-five had any blood in them. I disarmed the other two.” “Very well, then. Rest satisfied. To-night you will have perhaps all the fighting you want, but it will be with any sort of weapon that comes handiest.”’ ‘“* But there will be fightiag in any event?’ “* Assuredly.”. ‘“* That is all right. 1 will come atseven. Now I will take a stroll through the market to hear what the fishwomen have to say about the gen- eral. Aw revoir,” He strolled leisurely away, and St. George muttered to himself: * Assuredly we three can go anywhere and do anything. CHAPTER XIX. THE BRIDGE OF ARCOLA. A coLp fog had been creeping up over the city of Paris all day from the south-west, bring- ing the salt sea spume from the Bay of Bisca y? and the night set in with a drizzle and mist that made everything intensely dark. And the lamps of Parisin those days were not much good. Gas had not been invented, and whale oil did its duty after a sickly fashion. Moreover there were not many oil lamps and those they had swung from dbatiia in the mid- cle of the narrow streets, crooked, paved with slippery cobble-stones, with an open kennel in the middle, which was gutter sewer in one. The Paris of 1799 was very like the Paris of four centuries before, a medieval city, pictur- esque, dirty, and just the place for murder and robbery at night. , , There were no sewers yet, and the only broad streets were on the Boulevards, so that barri- cades were as easily erected as they had been in the Reign of Terror. | Under a swinging lamp in a narrow street that led down to the Seine were gathered several men, muffled in long cloaks, and wearing three- cornered hats, with the front flap let down to hidé the face, One of them looked at the sickly gleam of the lantern, and said with a smothered sexy vA | ‘* Do you know, when I last saw that lamp it had a man swinging under it by his neck, kick- ing like a mule? ‘When was that, Vidocq?” asked another. ‘“* Parbleu, in 93, the people’s year. Ah, we had fine times then, better we have now a good deal, **T don’t complain of these times,” broke ina third ina deep bassgrowl. ‘They are good enough if we can keep them, and if that infer- nal Corsican.is not made head of the govern- ment, I wasin 93 as well as the rest of you. In fact, I never enjoyed myself fully till that year. But we bave good pickings now.” The men seemed to be waiting for some one, and talking to away the time. Presently Vidocq observed: = > | bre any one know where we are to go to- night? I received bo cen to wait here till—” ‘Till the clock s' kes seven. Then to the Bridge of rty,” said the growling man. * The e of Arcola,” corrected one of the men, ‘‘ They have changed the ” name. “7 shall call it the old name,” growled the et ee ** Patience, comrade, patience. Never quarrel when tvo are in the same boat, or both may go to the bottom. Weshall have work enough to-night without fighting each other. Hark! There’s t':e clock.” The d «p tones of the clock of Notre Dame, followed by those from a dozen other churches and public buildings, rung out the hour of seven, and the whole psrty moved down the street to the Bridge of Arcola, where they found three men waiting for them, while a fourth had just balted in the cabriolet, and was speaking in a low voice. The group from the side street, headed by Vidocg advanced, and the leader hailed the man in the cab in the same guarded tones in. which, all their conversation seemed to be carried on that night: ‘* Hola! citizen, what are you doing out so late in the rain?’ ‘‘ There is no rain to one who wears the right shield,” answered the man in the cab. ** And what shield do you prefer?’ ** The shield of liberty.’ ‘*For my part I wear three.” ** What are they, citizen?’ ‘* Liberty, equality and — you know the other?’ “Fraternity, It is well. Have you the private word of the night?” ‘* I have,” “Whisper it then.” Vidocq went up to the cab and whispered to the man, who at once answered: ** Correct. Follow me,” ie was whipping up his horse when Vidocq asked: ‘Who are those others? [did not know we were to have strangers in this.” | ‘* They are not strangers. They come by the orders of Monsieur Barras, and have his signa- ture to the papers.” “ Well,” grumbled Gros Pierre, “‘ for afl that, we seven are enough, and we want no others to share in the reward.” The other three men, who had been standing a little apart listening, now came forward, end one of them said, with a strong accent of Gas- ny: We are not here for any reward, you fool, but to show you how to do the trick in the right way.” ** Ay,” corroborated the man in the cabriolet, “vou are going on a dangerous errand; for the man you seck is a soldier and armed. More- over, he has a man sleeping across his door every night, with a saber that cuts a person in half ata blow.” Gros Pierre laughed. ‘*Bah! tell that story to children. Even Madame Guillotine convents herself by chopping cff a head, but as for cutting inen in half, tiat is all fable.” “It is your place to obey orders, not to ask questions and criticise,” cried the man in the cabriolet, angrily. ‘‘Do you wish to decline the job? If s0, say so, and I will go on.” ‘* No, no, no,” answered Vidocq, soothingly. “Do not be so hasty, Monsieur Bottot—” The man in the cabriolet started. “How? You know me?” ‘“Of course. Every one knows the handsome secretary of Monsieur Barras, who, people say, furnishes brains for the Directory.’ Bottot—for it was that vain youth—could not avoid a pleased accent in his voice as he whip- ped up his horse and said: ‘Come on then. We are losing time.” The seven men from the side street and the three from the bridge went on after the cabrio- let, but they kept in two groups, the seven fol- lowing.the three, _. . The three ey rye Py a whisper, and one of ‘them fell back into the other group and said in a tone, of Norse a ' “- cede iy: 2 fonsieur Vidocqg. It is a nice place, this Paris, nowadays, for gentlemen of our profession.” Vidocg cast a suspicious glance at him. ‘*Gentlemen of our profession? You don’t belong to our crowd?” : “ How do you know that? Lknow you well h, and, in tg dined with you.” here?” asked Vidocq, curtly, ‘“* In the forests of Auvergne oP pl ago, You wanted us | Berg ou then, but we bad otber business on hand. Now the case is very differ- ent, You see we’ve had to come to it at last. Pride and ve pockets are old foes.” . Vidocq looked at him doubtfully. “| don’t remember you.” , , “Possibly. We three looked different then.” “Flow did you look?” | “We were in rags and had marched from Marseilles on raw chestnuts.” ‘Hola! You don’t mean it! Are you those three jo Cae imieb And what have you been doing all the time?” enou ad as a band of assassins, how much are you promised for to-night?” ‘*More than we shall get, my little man, if I don’t mistake our job.” ** Indeed, and what do you know of the job?’ “What do you know?” asked Vidocq, seem- ing to become suspicious again. ‘‘Only that we are expected to follow this lit- tle man in front, to receive our orders from Monsieur Barras in: person, and there to enter the service of the State by arresting: some per- son who will be pointed out to us in the street.” Videeq touched the other on the arm, and they fell back in the rear of the rest, still fol- lowing the cabriolet, which was driving at a foot pace. ‘* Look here, my friend—what’s your name?” “Gascon,” “‘ Well, Gascon, have you any idea who this person is, that is to be arrested?’ ‘No. Have you?’ ‘* Do you mean that?’ ‘* Mean what?” “That you do not. know who it is?” “Certainly I do not.” “Well, Ido.” * And who is it?” Vidoeq looked round, fell back further, ard whispered in the other’s ear: ** General Bonaparte |” The Gascon started—or feigned to start, ‘‘Impossible, They would not dare.” ‘Oh, they won’t risk anything. It is we who run the risk. ._Have you a mask?’ ‘* Yes. . That was the order.” “I know it, and so with ours, Now, you know, Government officers, making a legal ar- rest, don’t need masks,” ‘Just what I think, Monsieur Vidocq.” And therefore I have come to this conelusion, that, if we succeed in carrying off this unknown man, whom I suspect of being General Bona- parte, it will be only as an experiment, of which this rascally Barras will reap the advan- tage, while we shall run all the risk.” ‘* Monsieur Vidocq, you talk like a man of sense; but what say your comrades?’ Vidocq shrugged his shoulders, ‘*Oh, they are blockheads, only ,fit to follow. In confidence, Monsieur Gascon, Ll have had serious thoughts of late of turning honest man. It isso distressing to be compelled to do all the thinking for these men who cannot see an inch before their noses, J am tired of it,” Gascon cast a euriocus.glance at the robber, but said nothing for several, minutes, during which they plodded along through the mud. At last he asked: ‘What is zone opinion of the masks then?” ‘Simply that if we fail we can be disavowed That’s all.” ““To be frank, 1] think so too. Why should we do all this, Vidocq, to hurt a man who never harmed us?” ‘*Oh, well, the reward is handsome. — A hun- dred thousand francs is not to be picked up every night, n,” : Gascon nodded his head and said no more, Presently the cabriolet mopped in rear of the Luxembourg and Bottot said: ‘‘Goin yonder by the eneiges path to the small door in the east wing. nock four times and give the servant the secret word. He _ will take you up-stairs to Monsieur Barras. Igo in the other way.” . He drove off and Gascon found time to whisper to his co pions: fs. “he reward is a hundred thousand, and Vid is getting afraid. lf we can tind un- other shaky one, we can risk it.” | . His courant nodded and they went on to the little , where yidoed knoosad, ‘ave the word, and was admitted into a low, dark cor- ridor, evidently a servants’ entrance, ‘‘Come after me. ere are twenty-nine on the stairs, and one turn to the right in the corridor above,” said the porter, in a gruff way, asif he did not like his guests, soa they followed him through the darkness, till a light, under a door showed them they were ap- proaclting their journey’send. —_. The porter knocked at the door and ushered them into a Jarge room furnished splendidly, with a fire burning on the ‘ Tkere was no one in if. ‘Wait bere till Monsieur comes, and don’t talk,” said the porter. tea e vanished. ow the seven men | begen to look curiously at the three, by the light of the lamp, as tley had not before bad an opportunity to inspect them = Pie Te eaphaall riot ros. Pierre was jaily curious, end peer- ed into their f in such an insolent way that one of them asked: mb ins “Will you know me again, friend? It’s a pity [have no mark like you to pick me out of a crowd by. I apologize for it.” we erre turned crimson at the allusion to the brand on his forehead, and growled fierce- “Td have you know that I pela for that brand in 93 with twelve inches of cold stee] in the bowels of St. George the aristocrat. Keep a civil tongué or you may get as much.” - The man he addressed was a dark and very IOOKS. GO im “S (E€@) (E