*V*
_Of the immorality which may come of an empty stomach, and of howFrancois became acquainted with a human crab._
This nomad life was sadly uncertain; but Toto was a sharp forager, andwhat with a sou begged here and there, and the hospitality of summer,for a while they were not ill contented. But at last Francois passedtwo days of such lean living as set his wits to work. There was clearlyno help for it, and with a rueful face he entered the shop whence Totohad followed his uncertain fortunes.
The owner was a pleasant little woman who took honesty for granted.Yes, it was her dog; and how long he had been gone! Here was a greatpiece of twenty sous; and where did he find the poodle? Francoisdeclared that he lived near by and knew the dog. He had found him inthe Rue du Faubourg St. Lazare. And was it so far away as that? Hemust be tired, and for his honesty should be well fed. Thus, rich asnever before, and with a full stomach, he left Toto tied up, and wentout into the world again, lonely and sad.
Needless is it to describe his wanderings, or to relate how the lonelylad acquired the sharp ways of a gamin of the streets. For a while hebegged or stole what food he required. Some four months later, acombination of motives led him into theft which was not mere foraging.
On a cold November day he was again in the crowded gardens and arcadesof the Palais Royal. He was shabby enough by this time, and was sharplyreminded by the cool nights of the need for shelter. By chance his eyelighted on the man who shammed blindness and had stolen his precioussous. The beggar was kneeling, cap in hand, with closed eyes, his headturned upward, entreating pity for his loss of sight. There were somesous in his cap. A Francois passed he made believe to add another sou,and as he did so deftly scooped up the greater part of the coins.
The blind man cried out; but the boy skipped aside, laughing, well awarethat for the beggar to pursue him would be hardly advisable, as he mightlose more than he could gain.
A few sous were of small account. They insured a meal, but not alodging. As he was thus reflecting, he saw near by and presently besidehim the gentleman who had so highly appreciated the return of hishandkerchief. The coat pockets were large in those days, and the crowdwas great. A little white corner of lace besought Master Francois,crying, "I am food and lodging for thee!" Whereupon it was done, and alace handkerchief changed owners.
It cannot be said that these downward steps cost Francois any moraldiscomfort. He grinned as he thought of the beggar's perplexity, andlaughed outright as he felt how complete had been his own joy in thesatisfaction of possession could he have made the owner of the kerchiefunderstand that he had suffered not merely a theft, but the punishmentof injustice.
Francois was now too well versed in the ways of the street-boy, toodirty and too ragged, to fear the Cite. Thither he went, and found athieves' shop, where he sold the handkerchief, and got ten francs forwhat was worth thirty.
The question of a place where he could be sure of a bed was his firstconsideration on coming into his fortune. In the long, warm summers ofFrance one who was not particular could find numerous roosting-places,but in winter a more constant home was to be desired.
In the Cite Francois had occasionally lodged here and there when hecould afford to pay, and had been turned out when he had no more sous.Now, being affluent, and therefore hard to please, he wandered until hecame upon the lodging-house of an old woman in the Rue Perpignan. Heknew of her as a dealer in thieves' goods, and as ever ready to shelterthe lucky--and, it was suspected, as willing to betray those who werepersistently unfortunate.
What drew him to this woman's house it were hard to tell. She wasrepulsive in appearance, but, strangely enough, was clean as to herperson, dress, and abode. Asylum life had taught Francois to becleanly. He declares in his memoirs that he was by habit neat, and thatit was the absence of dirt which first tempted him into a relation whichwas so largely to affect his after life.
When he became one of this woman's lodgers he took a step which was forhim of moment. Now for the first time he was to be in the company ofold and practised thieves; but he was not yet of an age to be troubledas to the future or to reflect upon the past. The horizon of youth issmall.
He found plenty of masters to educate him in the evil business intowhich he had been driven by relentless fate. Never was pupil moreready. His hostess appreciated the cleverness of her new lodger, but itwas long before he himself realized how strange was the aspect and howsinister the nature of this mother of evil.
Certain historical epochs create types of face. This was a period whichmanufactured many singular visages. None was more strange than thatwhich Mme. Quatre Pattes carried on a body quite as remarkable.Francois speaks of her over and over in his memoirs, and dwells upon thepeculiarities of her appearance. I recall well what he said to me, oneevening, of this creature:
"You see, monsieur, I went to one den of thieves and another until Ichanced upon the Crab. It is not to be described; for here in a littleroom was a witch, crumpled and deformed, sharply bent forward as to theback from the waist, and--ah, _diablement_ thin! She was cleanly andeven neat, and her room was a marvel, because over there in the Cite menwere born and lived and died, and never saw a clean thing. And she wasof a strangeness--consider, monsieur; imagine you a bald head, and alean face below, very red, and the skin drawn so tight over the bones asto shine. Her eyes were little and of a dull gray; but they held you.Her lips were lean, and she kept them moving in a queer way as ifchewing. I did laugh when first I saw her, but not often afterward."
When he confided to this clean and horrible creature what he wanted, shemade him welcome. She rattled the two sticks which her bent form madeneedful for support. She would house him cheaply; but he must beindustrious--and to sell a lace handkerchief for ten francs--_tonnerre_!He needed caution. She would be a _bonne maman_ to him--she, QuatrePattes, "four paws"; the Crab, they called her, too, for short, andbecause of her red leanness and spite; but what was her real name he didnot learn for many a day. At first her appearance excited in his mindno emotion except amazement and mirth. A terrible old crab it was whenshe showed her toothless gums and howled obscenities, while her stickswere used with strange agility. The quarter feared her. M. Francoishad a fortune in his face, she said; and did he know the _savate_, theart to kick? There was a master next door. And again, what a face!With that face he might lie all day, and who would disbelieve him?Better to fetch her what he stole. She would see that no one cheatedhim but herself, and that would be ever so little. One must live. Whenshe laughed, which was not often, Francois felt that a curse were moregay. There were devil-women in those days, as the mad world of Parissoon came to know; and the Crab, with her purple nose and crooked redclaws, was of the worst.
The Adventures of François Page 7
