by Victor Hugo
CHAPTER II.
TWO LINES OF A DOUBTFUL ORIGIN.
Before going further we will enter into some details about a strangefact that occurred at about the same period at Montfermeil, and whichmay possibly possess some coincidence with certain police conjectures.There is at Montfermeil a very old superstition, which is the morecurious and valuable because a popular superstition in the neighborhoodof Paris is like an aloe-tree in Siberia. We are of those who respecteverything which is in the condition of a rare plant. This, then, isthe Montfermeil superstition: it is believed that from time immemorialthe fiend has selected the forest as the spot where he buries histreasure. Old women declare that it is not rare to meet at nightfall,and in remote parts of the forest, a black man resembling a wagoner orwood-cutter, dressed in wooden shoes and canvas trousers and blouse,and recognizable from the fact that he has on his head two enormoushorns in place of cap or hat. This man is usually engaged in digginga hole, and there are three modes of action in the event of meetinghim. The first is to go up to the man and address him; in that case youperceive that he is simply a peasant, that he appears black because itis twilight, that he is not digging a hole, but cutting grass for hiskine, and that what you had taken for horns is nothing but a dung-forkhe carries on his back, whose prongs seem to grow out of his head.You go home and die within the week. The second plan is to watch him,wait till he has dug his hole and filled it up and gone away; then yourun up to the hole and take out the treasure which the black man hadnecessarily deposited in it. In this case you die within the month. Thelast way is not to speak to the black man at all, not to look at him,but run away at full speed, and you die within the year.
All three modes have their inconveniences; but the second, whichoffers at any rate some advantages, among others that of possessing atreasure, if only for a month, is the one most generally adopted. Boldmen whom chances tempt have consequently, so it is declared, frequentlyreopened the hole dug by the black man, and robbed the demon. It seems,however, as if the profits are small; at any rate if we may believetradition, and particularly and especially two enigmatical lines indog Latin, which a wicked Norman monk, a bit of a sorcerer, and of thename of Tryphon, left on the subject. This Tryphon lies at St. George'sAbbey at Bocherville near Rouen, and frogs are born on his tomb. Aman makes enormous exertions, then, for the holes are generally verydeep: he perspires, works the whole night through (for the operationmust be carried out at night), gets a wet shirt, burns out his candle,breaks his pick, and when he at last reaches the bottom of the holeand lays his hand on the treasure, what does he find? What is thefiend's treasure? A sou, at times a crown-piece, a stone, a skeleton,a bleeding corpse, or a spectre folded up like a sheet of paper in apocket-book, and sometimes nothing at all! This appears to be revealedto the searchers by Tryphon's lines,--
"Fodit et in fossâ thesauros condit opacâ, As, nummos, lapides, cadaver, simulacra, nihilque."
It seems that in our days there are also found sometimes a gunpowderflask and balls, or an old pack of greasy, dirty cards which haveevidently been used by the fiends. Tryphon does not record these twofacts, because he lived in the 12th century, and it does not appearthat the fiend had the sense to invent gunpowder before Roger Bacon,or playing cards before Charles VI. If you play with the cards youare safe to lose all you possess; while the gunpowder displays thepeculiarity of making your gun burst in your face.
A very short time after the period when it occurred to the police thatJean Valjean during his four days of liberty had been prowling roundMontfermeil, it was noticed in the same village that a certain oldroad-mender of the name of Boulatruelle was "up to his tricks" in theforest. It was believed generally that this Boulatruelle had been tothe galleys: he was to some extent under police inspection, and as hecould not find work anywhere, the administration employed him at a lowwage as mender of the cross-road from Gagny to Lagny. This Boulatruellewas a man looked on askance by the villageois, as he was toorespectful, too humble, ready to doff his cap to everybody, tremblingand fawning before the gendarmes, and probably allied with the robbers,so it was said, and suspected of lurking about the roads after dark.The only thing in his favor was that he was a drunkard.
This is what people fancied that they noticed. For some time pastBoulatruelle had left work at an early hour, and gone into the forestwith his pickaxe. He was met toward evening in the most desolateclearings, in the wildest thickets, apparently seeking something, andat times digging holes. The old women who passed at first took him forBeelzebub, and when they recognized Boulatruelle did not feel at allmore easy in mind. Such meetings greatly annoyed Boulatruelle, andhence it was plain that he tried to hide himself, and that there was amystery in what he was doing. It was said in the village, "It is clearthat the fiend has made his appearance. Boulatruelle saw him, and isseeking; well, he is cunning enough to pocket Lucifer's treasure." TheVoltairians added: "Will Boulatruelle cheat the devil, or the devilcheat Boulatruelle?" while the old women crossed themselves repeatedly.Boulatruelle, however, discontinued his forest rambles, and regularlyresumed his work, whereupon something else was talked about. Somepersons, however, remained curious, thinking that there was probablyin the affair, not the fabulous treasure of the legend, but somethingmore palpable and tangible than the fiend's bank-notes, and that theroad-mender had doubtless found out half the secret. The most puzzledwere the schoolmaster and Thénardier the publican, who was everybody'sfriend, and had not disdained an intimacy with Boulatruelle.
"He has been to the galleys," Thénardier would say. "Well, goodgracious! we do not know who is there, or who may go there."
One evening the schoolmaster declared that in other times theauthorities would have inquired what Boulatruelle was about in thewood, and that he would have been obliged to speak; they would haveemployed torture if necessary, and Boulatruelle would not have resistedthe ordeal of water, for instance. "Let us give him the ordeal ofwine," said Thénardier. They set to work, and Boulatruelle drankenormously, but held his tongue. He combined, with admirable tact andin magisterial proportions, the thirst of a sponge with the discretionof a judge. Still, by returning to the charge, and by putting togetherthe few obscure words that escaped him, this is what Thénardier and theschoolmaster fancied that they could make out.
Boulatruelle, on going to work at daybreak one morning, was surprisedat seeing under a bush a spade and a pick, which "looked as if theywere hidden;" still he fancied that they belonged to Father Six-fours,the water-carrier, and did not think any more of the matter. On theevening of the same day, however, he saw, without being himself seen,as he was hidden behind a tree, "an individual who did not belong tothese parts, and whom he, Boulatruelle, knew," proceeding toward themost retired part of the wood. This Thénardier translated as "a comradeat the galleys," but Boulatruelle obstinately refused to mention hisname. This individual was carrying a bundle, something square, likea box or small chest. Boulatruelle was surprised; but it was not tillsome ten minutes later that the idea of following the "individual"occurred to him. But it was too late; the individual was already amongthe trees, night had fallen, and Boulatruelle was unable to overtakehim. Then he resolved to watch the skirt of the wood, and the moonwas shining. Boulatruelle, some two or three hours after, saw thisindividual come out of the wood, not carrying the box, however, but aspade and pick. Boulatruelle allowed him to pass, and did not addresshim, for he said to himself that the other man was thrice as strong ashe, and being armed with a pick would probably smash him on recognizinghim and finding himself recognized; a touching effusion on the part oftwo old comrades who suddenly meet. But the spade and pick were a rayof light for Boulatruelle; he hurried to the bush at daybreak, and nolonger found them there. From this he concluded that his individual, onentering the wood, had dug a hole with his pick, buried his box in it,and then covered it up with the spade. Now, as the box was too smallto contain a corpse, it must contain money, and hence his researches.Boulatruelle explored the forest in all directions, and especially atspot
s where the ground seemed to have been recently turned up, but itwas all of no use; he discovered nothing. Nobody in Montfermeil thoughtany more of the matter, except some worthy gossips who said,--"You maybe sure that the road-mender did not take all that trouble for nothing;it is certain that the fiend has been here."
