Le Juif errant. English

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER L. APPEARANCES.

  After she had again endeavored to cheer up the orphans, the sewing-girldescended the stairs, not without difficulty, for, in addition to theparcel, which was already heavy, she had fetched down from her own roomthe only blanket she possessed--thus leaving herself without protectionfrom the cold of her icy garret.

  The evening before, tortured with anxiety as to Agricola's fate, thegirl had been unable to work; the miseries of expectation and hopedelayed had prevented her from doing so; now another day would be lost,and yet it was necessary to live. Those overwhelming sorrows, whichdeprive the poor of the faculty of labor, are doubly dreaded; theyparalyze the strength, and, with that forced cessation from toil, wantand destitution are often added to grief.

  But Mother Bunch, that complete incarnation of holiest duty, had yetstrength enough to devote herself for the service of others. Some of themost frail and feeble creatures are endowed with extraordinary vigorof soul; it would seem as if, in these weak, infirm organizations, thespirit reigned absolutely over the body, and knew how to inspire it witha factitious energy.

  Thus, for the last twenty-four hours, Mother Bunch had neither sleptnor eaten; she had suffered from the cold, through the whole of a frostynight. In the morning she had endured great fatigue, in going, amid rainand snow, to the Rue de Babylone and back, twice crossing Paris and yether strength was not exhausted--so immense is the power of the humanheart!

  She had just arrived at the corner of the Rue Saint Mery. Since therecent Rue des Prouvaires conspiracy, there were stationed in thispopulous quarter of the town a much larger number of police-officersthan usual. Now the young sempstress, though bending beneath the weightof her parcel, had quickened her pace almost to a run, when, just as shepassed in front of one of the police, two five-franc pieces fell on theground behind her, thrown there by a stout woman in black, who followedher closely.

  Immediately after the stout woman pointed out the two pieces to thepoliceman, and said something hastily to him with regard to MotherBunch. Then she withdrew at all speed in the direction of the RueBrise-Miche.

  The policeman, struck with what Mrs. Grivois had said to him ( for itwas that person), picked up the money, and, running after the humpback,cried out to her: "Hi, there! young woman, I say--stop! stop!"

  On this outcry, several persons turned round suddenly and, as alwayshappens in those quarters of the town, a nucleus of five or six personssoon grew to a considerable crowd.

  Not knowing that the policeman was calling to her, Mother Bunch onlyquickened her speed, wishing to get to the pawnbroker's as soon aspossible, and trying to avoid touching any of the passers-by, so muchdid she dread the brutal and cruel railleries, to which her infirmity sooften exposed her.

  Suddenly, she heard many persons running after her, and at the sameinstant a hand was laid rudely on her shoulder. It was the policeman,followed by another officer, who had been drawn to the spot by thenoise. Mother Bunch turned round, struck with as much surprise as fear.

  She found herself in the centre of a crowd, composed chiefly of thathideous scum, idle and in rags, insolent and malicious, besotted withignorance, brutalized by want, and always loafing about the corners.Workmen are scarcely ever met with in these mobs, for they are for themost part engaged in their daily labors.

  "Come, can't you hear? you are deaf as Punch's dog," said the policeman,seizing Mother Bunch so rudely by the arm, that she let her parcel fallat her feet.

  When the unfortunate girl, looking round in terror, saw herself exposedto all those insolent, mocking, malicious glances, when she beheld thecynical and coarse grimace on so many ignoble and filthy countenances,she trembled in all her limbs, and became fearfully pale. No doubt thepoliceman had spoken roughly to her; but how could he speak otherwise toa poor deformed girl, pale and trembling, with her features agitatedby grief and fear--to a wretched creature, miserably clad, who worein winter a thin cotton gown, soiled with mud, and wet with meltedsnow--for the poor sempstress had walked much and far that morning. Sothe policeman resumed, with great severity, following that supreme lawof appearances which makes poverty always suspected: "Stop a bit,young woman! it seems you are in a mighty hurry, to let your money fallwithout picking it up."

  "Was her blunt hid in her hump?" said the hoarse voice of a match-boy, ahideous and repulsive specimen of precocious depravity.

  This sally was received with laughter, shouts, and hooting, which servedto complete the sewing-girl's dismay and terror. She was hardly able toanswer, in a feeble voice, as the policeman handed her the two pieces ofsilver: "This money, sir, is not mine."

  "You lie," said the other officer, approaching; "a respectable lady sawit drop from your pocket."

  "I assure you, sir, it is not so," answered Mother Bunch, trembling.

  "I tell you that you lie," resumed the officer; "for the lady, struckwith your guilty and frightened air, said to me: 'Look at yonder littlehunchback, running away with that large parcel, and letting her moneyfall without even stopping to pick it up--it is not natural.'"

  "Bobby," resumed the match-vendor in his hoarse voice, "be on yourguard! Feel her hump, for that is her luggage-van. I'm sure that you'llfind boots, and cloaks, and umbrellas, and clocks in it--for I justheard the hour strike in the bend of her back."

  Then came fresh bursts of laughter and shouts and hooting, for thishorrible mob has no pity for those who implore and suffer. The crowdincreased more and more, and now they indulged in hoarse cries, piercingwhistles, and all kinds of horse play.

  "Let a fellow see her; it's free gratis."

  "Don't push so; I've paid for my place!"

  "Make her stand up on something, that all may have a look."

  "My corns are being ground: it was not worth coming."

  "Show her properly--or return the money."

  "That's fair, ain't it?"

  "Give it us in the 'garden' style."

  "Trot her out in all her paces! Kim up!"

  Fancy the feelings of this unfortunate creature, with her delicatemind, good heart, and lofty soul, and yet with so timid and nervous acharacter, as she stood alone with the two policemen in the thick of thecrowd, and was forced to listen to all these coarse and savage insults.

  But the young sempstress did not yet understand of what crime she wasaccused. She soon discovered it, however, for the policeman, seizing theparcel which she had picked up and now held in her trembling hands, saidto her rudely: "What is there in that bundle?"

  "Sir--it is--I am going--" The unfortunate girl hesitated--unable, inher terror, to find the word.

  "If that's all you have to answer," said the policeman, "it's no greatshakes. Come, make haste! turn your bundle inside out."

  So saying, the policeman snatched the parcel from her, half opened it,and repeated, as he enumerated the divers articles it contained:"The devil!--sheets--a spoon and fork--a silver mug--a shawl--ablanket--you're a downy mot! it was not so bad a move. Dressed like abeggar, and with silver plate about you. Oh, yes! you're a deep 'un."

  "Those articles do not belong to you," said the other officer.

  "No, sir," replied Mother Bunch, whose strength was failing her; "but--"

  "Oh, vile hunchback! you have stolen more than you are big!"

  "Stolen!" cried Mother Bunch, clasping her hands in horror, for she nowunderstood it all. "Stolen!"

  "The guard! make way for the lobsters!" cried several persons at once.

  "Oh, ho! here's the lobsters!"

  "The fire-eaters!"

  "The Arab devourers!"

  "Come for their dromedary!"

  In the midst of these noisy jests, two soldiers and a corporal advancedwith much difficulty. Their bayonets and the barrels of their guns werealone visible above the heads of this hideous and compact crowd. Someofficious person had been to inform the officer at the nearest guardhouse, that a considerable crowd obstructed the public way.

  "Come, here is the guard--so march to the guard-house!" said thepoliceman, ta
king Mother Bunch by the arm.

  "Sir," said the poor girl, in a voice stifled by sobs, clasping herhands in terror, and sinking upon her knees on the pavement; "sir,--havepity--let me explain--"

  "You will explain at the guard-house; so come on!"

  "But, sir--I am not a thief," cried Mother Bunch, in a heart-rendingtone; "have pity upon me--do not take me away like a thief, before allthis crowd. Oh! mercy! mercy!"

  "I tell you, there will be time to explain at the guard-house. Thestreet is blocked up; so come along!" Grasping the unfortunate creatureby both her hands, he set her, as it were, on her feet again.

  At this instant, the corporal and his two soldiers, having succeededin making their way through the crowd, approached the policeman."Corporal," said the latter, "take this girl to the guard-house. I am anofficer of the police."

  "Oh, gentlemen!" cried the girl, weeping hot tears, and wringing herhands, "do not take me away, before you let me explain myself. I am nota thief--indeed, indeed, I am not a thief! I will tell you--it was torender service to others--only let me tell you--"

  "I tell you, you should give your explanations at the guard-house; ifyou will not walk, we must drag you along," said the policeman.

  We must renounce the attempt to paint this scene, at once ignoble andterrible.

  Weak, overpowered, filled with alarm, the unfortunate girl was draggedalong by the soldiers, her knees sinking under her at every step.The two police-officers had each to lend an arm to support her, andmechanically she accepted their assistance. Then the vociferations andhootings burst forth with redoubled fury. Half-swooning between the twomen, the hapless creature seemed to drain the cup of bitterness to thedregs.

  Beneath that foggy sky, in that dirty street, under the shadow of thetall black houses, those hideous masses of people reminded one of thewildest fancies of Callot and of Goya: children in rags, drunken women,grim and blighted figures of men, rushed against each other, pushed,fought, struggled, to follow with howls and hisses an almost inanimatevictim--the victim of a deplorable mistake.

  Of a mistake! How one shudders to think, that such arrests may oftentake place, founded upon nothing but the suspicion caused by theappearance of misery, or by some inaccurate description. Can we forgetthe case of that young girl, who, wrongfully accused of participatingin a shameful traffic, found means to escape from the persons who wereleading her to prison, and, rushing up the stairs of a house, threwherself from a window, in her despair, and was crushed to death upon thepaving-stones?

  Meanwhile, after the abominable denunciation of which Mother Bunch wasthe victim, Mrs. Grivois had returned precipitately to the Rue BriseMiche. She ascended in haste to the fourth story, opened the door ofFrances Baudoin's room, and saw--Dagobert in company with his wife andthe two orphans!