Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 193 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

~ he 4 . SOS oo NSS eS 2 The Man in Red. 5 Think of it! Three sous for such miserable chestnuts, and half-roasted at that!” Then his sonorous grow! was broken by ‘crunching, as he slouched away, leaving the lit- tle chestnut woman shoving the disputed three sous down in an old stocking foot that she used for a purse, and murmuring to herself: ‘* But I made him give it me, old rogue of the ‘rampart! Iam no fool, me.” ‘‘ It is evident, my general,” said Casse Tete, dryly, “that the sapper is not a ghost, nor does he look like one.” Gabriel nodded absently. They had come out, as he an to think, on a fool’s errand, hunting a needle in a haystack; but he had taken a fancy into his head that he should find ‘the original of The Man in Red somewhere in Paris, and he rightly reasoned that, if such a aman existed, he would be likely to hide himself tin the largest crowd he could find. He and Casse Tete, disguised in the oldest and -shabbiest clothes they could find, had been wan- dering about in the throngs all the evening, looking for every head that rose above the crowds of little men of Paris. Every time they saw a tall man they edged up near him; but only to meet disappointment. “Nowhere could Gabriel find the pale face for which he was searching, with its fierce dark “eyes and spiky mustache, So they passed away from the gardens of the Tuileries, out of sight of the legend of Wagram, and wandered out on the Boulevards, where the clink of spoons and glasses was incessant, and where people were sitting out on the side- walks under the colored lanterns, eating ices and sipping sugared water, in French fashion, They passed along here rather more quickly, for people looked askance at their shabby «clothes, and, even in disguise, one does not like ‘to be sneered at. When they were approaching the last of these open-air cafes, they began to meet people com- ing in from the 5 geen direction, but all were short. Nota giant towered above th. crowd. ‘They were all commonplace-looking people, come from seeing the fireworks, to drink su- -g.red water and eat ices. Yet it was in the midst of this crowd that “Count Gabriel encountered some one who knew him, spite of his disguise, one of two short gen- ‘tlemen who came along arm in-arm, swinging toeir canes and chatting. One of them was a thin dried-up man, witha foxy face and a furtive smile, who looked like @ money-lender and who was none other, as Gibriel knew when he set ae on him, than the dreaded Fouche, Duke of Otranto, and chief of the secret police. The other man was short and stout, with light curly hair, little side-whiskers, reddish in hue, while bis dress was that of a rich provin- cial farmer, come to Paris for a frolic, in a white coat and top-boots, a broad straw hat sand a voluminous white waist-coat. The only thing that militated st his being a farmer was the fact that his hands were very small and white, and that when he spoke his voice had the indescribable accent of a man who has been well educated, And it was this individual who, as soon as he ‘met Count Gabriel, ran his arm into that of the young man, and said in a low jesting tone: ‘‘ What ails thee, gros mouchard? [spy] Thou art open as day and knowest no one, tus ‘turn and walk back. And Casse Tete, too! Parbleu, my friend. Stick to thy wolves and vcuirassiers. Thou wert never meant to ferret out mysteries, And Gabriel could not help a scarlet flush at the way in which he had been detected; for it was only by his voice and a peculiar pinch of his arm that he had been able to recognize the vemperor himself, et he knew that it was a favorite pastime of the first man in Europe to stroll out in the -evenings among the people, after the fashion set by Haroun al Raschid in former ages; and it was only because he was looking for a tall man that he bad overlooked his master. The disguised emperor wheeled him round and they resumed their march in the direction from which Gabriel had just come. Casse Tete had fallen behind and the sly Fouche was strol- ling by his side in the stream of promenaders, when some one called out from a table: ‘Hola! Auguste! The two ragamuffins have ‘found their lambs at last. Go back to thy pas- ture, fat ian the country, or the long wolf will pick thy bones.” The emperor shook with suppressed but hearty laughter as he walked on. ‘Do you know, my dear count, what we are taken for?’ he whispered presently. ‘‘ They imagine you are the decoy of some gambling house, and that I am the victim, See whata difference there is in men, I tell you, count, you are not fit to find ont mysteries, Your ‘figure cannot be hidden; and as for Casse Tete, he looks too like Don Quixote de Ja Mancha to ‘be sent out on such an expedition, See, yonder. ‘Here comes a gendarme. He will look on you as a suspicious character, I really shall have ‘to leave you, I fear.” And just at that moment the gendarme who approached therh halted, looked at Gabriel in nn ee Q shoulder, saying: ‘Hold, young man. Thy way is not here. This honest gentleman does not know into what hands he is falling.” Gabriel, confused, did not know what to say, and the emperor, addressing the officer in the most innocent way, said: ‘* Excuse me, Monsieur the General—” ‘‘T am no general, countryman,” was the stiff interruption. ‘I am a gendarme. ‘* Pardon me,” returned the seeming innocent, blandly. ‘I thought from that gorgeous uni- form and cocked hat that you must be a colonel at least. But this gentleman is a friend of mine—that is, he has offered to show me the sights of Paris.” **Exactly,” replied the ‘Well, ve warned thee. purse if thou wilt.” And he pursued his way, evidently sulky, his sternest way, and then tapped him on the senate, sofirly. o on and lose thy self and whispering: “Oh, my dear count, what readers of the face are these dogs of the law. They saw the | innocent shining from every curl of my wig. and the rascality that even that black patch | cannot hide in thy left eye.” And as they passed the tables as before they were exposed to a running fire of trus Parisian wit and sarcasm, to which none of the four could make any reply without betraying them- selves, till they came to the garden of the Tui- leries again, and plunged into the crowd to be lost, to notice. ere Fouche sidled up to his master and said, in a low voice of irritation: ‘For Heavyen’s sake, sire, let us go as we were before. We attract notice from the con- trast in our stature. There are three of | my men have been watching us as _ sus- picious characters for some minutes, and I don’t want to tell them who I am.” **On the contrary, my dear Fouche,” retorted | the disguised emperor, who seemed to be in a | perverse and frolicsome humor that night, as | he sometimes took a whim to be, ‘‘on the con- trary, it is as well that your men should watch | us. It is seldom in these days that I find an opportunity of testing bonest public opinion. Now lll wager they take me for a countryman and you three for three sharpers combining to pluck my feathers. You are the only man of | the party not disguised, and if they do not re- cognize you, it is their own fault.” The emperor, while he valued Fouche for bis astuteness, delighted in making jokes on his character, which was, in brief, that of a con- summate rascal and peculator. ‘Let us go on,” pursued the emperor. “I came out to-night for a purpose, and I am not to be balked of it. I want to find what the people are saying about all of us,” e dragged Gabriel along till they came in front of the great transparency, and then re- marked, loud enough to be heard: ‘Wagram! Bah! Not much of a battle!” ‘Not much of a battle, sayest thon?” cried an excited voice behind him. ‘*‘ What dost thou know of it, mutton-head? Perhaps thou wast there? Not much of a battle indeed. I tell thee such cattle as thee bad better keep out of laces like that. Not much of a battle! when it was fought by our glorious emperor! Where will you find such a generalin Europe? Where?” They bad run on the big sapper, who was full of excitement and Cognac, to judge from his breath, as he held his face close. ‘‘ Where?” responded the disguised emperor coolly. ‘' Why, Moreau for example.” The big sapper jumped up and down witha roar of rage, vociferating: __ ‘*Moreau is a cursed traitor, a royalist, a Jacobin, a Chouan! Do you hear? Jl’ll fight any man in Paris that denies that the Emperor Napoleon is the greatest soldier on the earth, Dost thou hear?” ‘* Vive VEmpereur!” bellowed another sol- dier in the crowd, and in a moment the whole assembly caught up the cry, not knowing why, and the big sapper shook his fist in Gabriel’s face, bellowing: ‘‘ Shout Vive l’Empereur! I believe thou art ae spy, with thy black patch. Shout or e!” eee eee And the big sapper pulled out the short sword by his side. CHAPTER V. THE FAUBOURG ST. ANTOINE. A ROW was imminent, and a real French row, in which every one takes part, not exact- ly knowing what it is about. 4 People began to shout the most opposite ac- cusations at the man with the light wig and him with the black patch, while Fouche and Casse Tete were unnoticed. ** Royalists!” ‘** Red Republicans!” ** Chouans!”’ ** Mountaineers!” “* English spies!” ‘* Put them under the fountain!” And in the midst of the yells Casse Tete sud- denly put his knee into the back of the big sapper, and flung bim like a log to the earth, i | while the emperor went on, chuckling to him- | when blows be to fall freely on all sides, and some one raised the cry: ‘‘Gendarmes coming!” In a moment the crowd began to run, fight- ing a little as they went, and Count Gabriel and the disguised emperor, considerably hustled but unhurt, found themselves running with the rest, down a narrow street that led into the dingy old Faubourg St. Antoine, with the roar of the mob growing less and less behind them, while Casse Tete and Fouche had been lost in the crowd. How they had got there and by what street they had come they did not exactly know, on . account of the confusion and fighting; but they heard the clank of cuirassiers,and knew that the Municipal Guard was coming, so, without more ado, Gabriel and the disguised emperor plunged into the devious lanes and alleys of the once famous Faubourg, till they found them- selves alone in a blind alley, without a sound to break the stillness, under a dingy oil lamp, swung from chains at the middle of the — Gabriel looked at the emperor. His light wig was awry, his hat battered, his coat torn ae at one outside pocket, but he was laughing | heartily. ‘*Parbleu, count,” he said. ‘‘These fellows are rough in their loyalty. It is the first time I have ever bad to run in my own capital. And yet I only said Wagram was not much of a battle.” ‘Your majesty sees it is not safe in Paris to depreciate the victories of the Emperor we ans leon,” said Gabriel, smiling. ‘‘If | may advise, I would recommend your majesty to be more arded in language, when taking a stroll in uture.” The emperor laughed and then looked round him curiously, observing: | t ” Fare count, do you know where we are now?’ ‘‘T have not the least idea, sire, except that it is in the Faubourg St. Antoine, The smell in the gutters tells that.” ‘“‘The Faubourg St. Antoine,” repeated the emperor, thougbtfully. ‘* Ah, count, you were only a child when this Faubourg gave laws to France. It was from these vile-smelling alleys that the mob rushed out in the Reign of Terror, with their red caps and pikes. It was under that very lantern that they hung some man, perhaps, whose only crime was- that he had a ‘De’ before bis name. Ah, the mis- creavts! But I gave them tbeir medicine at the Revolt of the Sections. Yes, yes. You were only nine years old then. And who would have thought, in those days of license, that the Emperor of the French would one day be standing alone in the heart of this same Faubourg, without a red cap in Paris. Come, let us go. Let us explore this place. Iam in the humor for adventures to-night. I have not seen the real people since the Pope came to Paris to oil my hair for me.” He ended with his usual mote smile, as he referred to his coronation, and they walked slowly out of the alley into a narrow street. _, At the corner, under the dingy lamp, they read the sign Allee des Sans Culottes,” “The last remnant of what was once a power in France,” commented the emperor, ‘but I must remember to have that name changed to- morrow. What is the street?’ A winding, narrow, i!l-smelling place, witha gutter in the middle, and buge ook le-stones on each side, yee it had a high sounding name:— “ Rue de Cruche d’ Or.” [Golden Pitcher Street. ] The emperor gave a short, sarcastic laugh, as he observed: “ Paris is the city of contrasts, count, The street of the Golden Pitcher ends in the Alley of the Breechless, _I1 know where we are now, You would not believe it, but positively I once et? in this street.” ‘You, sire! Impossible!” “Yes; I and Junot, Eh, but we had not much money in those days, and when Junot had a remittance from father at Avignon, he always divided with me. We used to go to bed in the daytime, now and then, to sleep off the pangs of bunger, when supplies were short.” ¥ “You must have been unhappy, sire, in those rays before your genius was wn, and— “Unhappy? Who knows? Yes; I thought so then, count, and yet, sometimes I think now those days were not so unhappy, after all. I knew whom I could trust, then. And the first man in Europe had fallen into a brown study, as he walked slowly on, his heas bent, his hands bebind him, Even his disguise could not hide the characteristic atti thought. , They went on down the street, till the em- peror said indifferently : ‘There is the old house, count. It used to be kept by Citoyenne Tripotte. I wonder who lives there now, and whether cur old rooms are occupied,” He did notseem to care much. It was a mere passing spasin of curiosity, roused by old asso- ciations; but Gabriel, whose rom-ntic imagina- tion was excited by anything that told of the e of 6)(6\(6) com S) GO