by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER IX. THE ENCOUNTERS.
At the sight of Dagobert and Agricola, Mother Bunch remained motionlesswith surprise, a few steps from the convent-gate. The soldier had notyet perceived the sempstress. He advanced rapidly, following the dog,who though lean, half-starved, rough-coated, and dirty, seemed to friskwith pleasure, as he turned his intelligent face towards his master, towhom he had gone back, after caressing Mother Bunch.
"Yes, yes; I understand you, old fellow!" said the soldier, withemotion. "You are more faithful than I was; you did not leave the dearchildren for a minute. Yes, you followed them, and watched day andnight, without food, at the door of the house to which they weretaken--and, at length, weary of waiting to see them come forth, ran hometo fetch me. Yes; whilst I was giving way to despair, like a furiousmadman, you were doing what I ought to have done--discovering theirretreat. What does it all prove? Why, that beasts are better thanmen--which is well known. Well, at length I shall see them again. WhenI think that tomorrow is the 13th, and that without you, my didSpoil-sport, all would be lost--it makes me shudder. But I say, shall wesoon be there? What a deserted quarter! and night coming on!"
Dagobert had held this discourse to Spoil-sport, as he walked alongfollowing the good dog, who kept on at a rapid pace. Suddenly, seeingthe faithful animal start aside with a bound, he raised his eyes, andperceived the dog frisking about the hunchback and Agricola, who hadjust met at a little distance from the convent-gate.
"Mother Bunch?" exclaimed both father and son, as they approached theyoung workwoman, and looked at her with extreme surprise.
"There is good hope, M. Dagobert," said she with inexpressible joy."Rose and Blanche are found!" Then, turning towards the smith, sheadded, "There is good hope, Agricola: Mdlle. de Cardoville is not mad. Ihave just seen her."
"She is not mad? what happiness!" exclaimed the smith.
"The children!" cried Dagobert, trembling with emotion, as he took thework-girl's hands in his own. "You have seen them?"
"Yes; just now--very sad--very unhappy--but I was not able to speak tothem."
"Oh!" said Dagobert, stopping as if suffocated by the news, and pressinghis hands on his bosom; "I never thought that my old heart could beatso!--And yet, thanks to my dog, I almost expected what has taken place.Anyhow, I am quite dizzy with joy."
"Well, father, it's a good day," said Agricola, looking gratefully atthe girl.
"Kiss me, my dear child!" added the soldier, as he pressed Mother Bunchaffectionately in his arms; then, full of impatience, he added: "Come,let us go and fetch the children."
"Ah, my good sister!" said Agricola, deeply moved; "you will restorepeace, perhaps life, to my father--and Mdlle. de Cardoville--but how doyou know?"
"A mere chance. And how did you come here?"
"Spoil-sport stops and barks," cried Dagobert, who had already madeseveral steps in advance.
Indeed the dog, who was as impatient as his master to see the orphans,and far better informed as to the place of their retreat, had postedhimself at the convent gate, and was beginning to bark, to attract theattention of Dagobert. Understanding his dog, the latter said tothe hunchback, as he pointed in that direction with his finger: "Thechildren are there?"
"Yes, M. Dagobert."
"I was sure of it. Good dog!--Oh, yes! beasts are better thanmen--except you, my dear girl, who are better than either man or beast.But my poor children! I shall see them, I shall have them once more!"
So saying, Dagobert, in spite of his age, began to run very fast towardsSpoil-sport. "Agricola," cried Mother Bunch, "prevent thy father fromknocking at that door. He would ruin all."
In two strides, the smith had reached his father, just as the latter wasraising his hand to the knocker. "Stop, father!" cried the smith, as heseized Dagobert by the arm.
"What the devil is it now?"
"Mother Bunch says that to knock would ruin all."
"How so?"
"She will explain it to you." Although not so nimble as Agricola, MotherBunch soon came up, and said to the soldier: "M. Dagobert, do not let usremain before this gate. They might open it, and see us; and that wouldexcite suspicion. Let us rather go away--"
"Suspicion!" cried the veteran, much surprised, but without moving fromthe gate; "what suspicion?"
"I conjure you, do not remain there!" said Mother Bunch, with so muchearnestness, that Agricola joined her, and said to his father: "Sincesister rashes it, father, she has some reason for it. The Boulevard del'Hopital is a few steps from here; nobody passes that way; we can talkthere without being interrupted."
"Devil take me if I understand a word of all this!" cried Dagobert,without moving from his post. "The children are here, and I will fetchthem away with me. It is an affair of ten minutes."
"Do not think that, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch. "It is much moredifficult than you imagine. But come! come!--I can hear them talk in thecourt-yard."
In fact, the sound of voices was now distinctly audible. "Come father!"said Agricola, forcing away the soldier, almost in spite of himself.Spoil-sport, who appeared much astonished at these hesitations, barkedtwo or three times without quitting his post, as if to protest againstthis humiliating retreat; but, being called by Dagobert, he hastened torejoin the main body.
It was now about five o'clock in the evening. A high wind swept thickmasses of grayish, rainy cloud rapidly across the sky. The Boulevard del'Hopital, which bordered on this portion of the convent-garden, was,as we before said, almost deserted. Dagobert, Agricola, and the servinggirl could hold a private conference in this solitary place.
The soldier did not disguise the extreme impatience that these delaysoccasioned in him. Hardly had they turned the corner of the street, whenhe said to Mother Bunch: "Come, my child, explain yourself. I am uponhot coals."
"The house in which the daughters of Marshal Simon are confined is aconvent, M. Dagobert."
"A convent!" cried the soldier: "I might have suspected it." Then headded: "Well, what then? I will fetch them from a convent as soon asfrom any other place. Once is not always."
"But, M. Dagobert, they are confined against their will and againstyours. They will not give them up."
"They will not give them up? Zounds! we will see about that." And hemade a step towards the street.
"Father," said Agricola, holding him back, "one moment's patience; letus hear all."
"I will hear nothing. What! the children are there--two steps from me--Iknow it--and I shall not have them, either by fair means or foul? Oh!that would indeed be curious. Let me go."
"Listen to me, I beseech you, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch, takinghis hand: "there is another way to deliver these poor children. And thatwithout violence--for violence, as Mdlle. de Cardoville told me, wouldruin all."
"If there is any other way--quick--let me know it!"
"Here is a ring of Mdlle. de Cardoville's."
"And who is this Mdlle. de Cardoville?"
"Father," said Agricola, "it is the generous young lady, who offered tobe my bail, and to whom I have very important matters to communicate."
"Good, good," replied Dagobert; "we will talk of that presently. Well,my dear girl--this ring?"
"You must take it directly, M. Dagobert, to the Count de Montbron,No. 7, Place Vendome. He appears to be a person of influence, and is afriend of Mdlle. de Cardoville's. This ring will prove that you come onher behalf, and you will tell him, that she is confined as a lunatic inthe asylum next door to this convent, in which the daughters of MarshalSimon are detained against their will."
"Well, well--what next?"
"Then the Count de Montbron will take the proper steps with persons inauthority, to restore both Mdlle. de Cardoville and the daughters ofMarshal Simon to liberty--and perhaps, to-morrow, or the day after--"
"To-morrow or the day after!" cried Dagobert; "perhaps?--It is to-day,on the instant, that I must have them. The day after to-morrow would beof much use! Thanks, my good girl, but keep your ring: I will manage myown
business. Wait for me here, my boy."
"What are you going to do, father?" cried Agricola, still holding backthe soldier. "It is a convent, remember."
"You are only a raw recruit; I have my theory of convents at my fingers'end. In Spain, I have put it in practice a hundred times. Here is whatwill happen. I knock; a portress opens the door to me; she asks me whatI want, but I make no answer; she tries to stop me, but I pass on; oncein the convent, I walk over it from top to bottom, calling my childrenwith all my might."
"But, M. Dagobert, the nuns?" said Mother Bunch, still trying to detainthe soldier.
"The nuns run after me, screaming like so many magpies. I know them. AtSeville I fetched out an Andalusian girl, whom they were trying to keepby force. Well, I walk about the convent calling for Rose and Blanche.They hear me, and answer. If they are shut in, I take the first piece offurniture that comes to hand, and break open the door."
"But, M. Dagobert--the nuns--the nuns?"
"The nuns, with all their squalling, will not prevent my breaking openthe door, seizing my children in my arms, and carrying them off. Shouldthe outer door be shut, there will be a second smash--that's all. So,"added Dagobert, disengaging himself from the grasp, "wait for me here.In ten minutes I shall be back again. Go and get a hackney-coach ready,my boy."
More calm than Dagobert, and, above all, better informed as to theprovisions of the Penal Code, Agricola was alarmed at the consequencesthat might attend the veteran's strange mode of proceeding. So, throwinghimself before him, he exclaimed: "One word more, I entreat you."
"Zounds! make haste!"
"If you attempt to enter the convent by force, you will ruin all."
"How so?"
"First of all, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch, "there are men in theconvent. As I came out just now, I saw the porter loading his gun, andheard the gardener talking of his sharp scythe, and the rounds he was tomake at night."
"Much I care for a porter's gun and a gardener's scythe!"
"Well, father; but listen to me a moment, I conjure you. Suppose youknock, and the door is opened--the porter will ask you what you want.'
"I tell him that I wish to speak to the superior, and so walk into theconvent."
"But, M. Dagobert," said Mother Bunch, "when once you have crossed thecourt-yard, you reach a second door, with a wicket. A nun comes to it,to see who rings, and does not open the door till she knows the objectof the visit."
"I will tell her that I wish to see the lady superior."
"Then, father, as you are not known in the convent, they will go andinform the superior."
"Well, what then?"
"She will come down."
"What next?"
"She will ask you what you want, M. Dagobert."
"What I want?--the devil! my children!"
"One minute's patience, father. You cannot doubt, from the precautionsthey have taken, that they wish to detain these young ladies againsttheir will, and against yours."
"Doubt! I am sure of it. To come to that point, they began by turningthe head of my poor wife."
"Then, father, the superior will reply to you that she does not knowwhat you mean, and that the young ladies are not in the convent."
"And I will reply to her, that they are in the convent witness--MotherBunch and Spoil-sport."
"The superior will answer, that she does not know you; that she has noexplanations to give you; and will close the wicket."
"Then I break it open--since one must come to that in the end--so leaveme alone, I tell you! 'sblood! leave me alone!"
"And, on this noise and violence, the porter will run and fetch theguard, and they will begin by arresting you."
"And what will become of your poor children, then, M. Dagobert?" saidMother Bunch.
Agricola's father had too much good sense not to feel the truth of theseobservations of the girl and his son; but he knew also, that, costwhat it might, the orphans must be delivered before the morrow. Thealternative was terrible--so terrible, that, pressing his two handsto his burning forehead, Dagobert sunk back upon a stone bench, as ifstruck down by the inexorable fatality of the dilemma.
Agricola and the workwoman, deeply moved by this mute despair, exchangeda sad look. The smith, seating himself beside the soldier, said to him:"Do not be down-hearted, father. Remember what's been told you. By goingwith this ring of Mdlle. de Cardoville's to the influential gentlemanshe named, the young ladies may be free by to-morrow, or, at worst, bythe day after."
"Blood and thunder! you want to drive me mad!" exclaimed Dagobert,starting up from the bench, and looking at Mother Bunch and his son withso savage an expression that Agricola and the sempstress drew back, withan air of surprise and uneasiness.
"Pardon me, my children!" said Dagobert, recovering himself after a longsilence. "I am wrong to get in a passion, for we do not understand oneanother. What you say is true; and yet I am right to speak as I do.Listen to me. You are an honest man, Agricola; you an honest girl; whatI tell you is meant for you alone. I have brought these children fromthe depths of Siberia--do you know why? That they may be to-morrowmorning in the Rue Saint-Francois. If they are not there, I have failedto execute the last wish of their dying mother."
"No. 3, Rue Saint Francois?" cried Agricola, interrupting his father.
"Yes; how do you know the number?" said Dagobert.
"Is not the date inscribed on a bronze medal?"
"Yes," replied Dagobert, more end more surprised; "who told you?"
"One instant, father!" exclaimed Agricola; "let me reflect. I think Iguess it. Did you not tell me, my good sister, that Mdlle. de Cardovillewas not mad?"
"Not mad. They detain her in this asylum to prevent her communicatingwith any one. She believes herself, like the daughters of Marshal Simon,the victim of an odious machination."
"No doubt of it," cried the smith. "I understand all now, Mdlle. deCardoville has the same interest as the orphans to appear to-morrow atthe Rue Saint-Francois. But she does not perhaps know it."
"How so?"
"One word more, my good girl. Did Mdlle. de Cardoville tell you that shehad a powerful motive to obtain her freedom by to-morrow?"
"No; for when she gave me this ring for the Count de Montbron, she saidto me: 'By this means both I and Marshal Simon's daughters will be atliberty either to-morrow or the day after--'"
"But explain yourself, then," said Dagobert to his son, with impatience.
"Just now," replied the smith, "when you came to seek me in prison, Itold you, father, that I had a sacred duty to perform, and that I wouldrejoin you at home."
"Yes; and I went, on my side, to take some measures, of which I willspeak to you presently."
"I ran instantly to the house in the Rue de Babylone, not knowing thatMdlle. de Cardoville was mad, or passed for mad. A servant, who openedthe door to me, informed me that the young lady had been seized with asudden attack of madness. You may conceive, father, what a blow that wasto me! I asked where she was: they answered, that they did not know.I asked if I could speak to any of the family; as my jacket did notinspire any great confidence, they replied that none of her family wereat present there. I was in despair, but an idea occurred to me. I saidto myself: 'If she is mad, her family physician must know where theyhave taken her; if she is in a state to hear me, he will take me toher; if not, I will speak to her doctor, as I would to her relations.A doctor is often a friend.' I asked the servant, therefore, to give methe doctor's address. I obtained it without difficulty--Dr. Baleinier,No. 12, Rue Taranne. I ran thither, but he had gone out; they told methat I should find him about five o'clock at his asylum, which is nextdoor to the convent. That is how we have met."
"But the medal--the medal?" said Dagobert, impatiently; "where did yousee it?"
"It is with regard to this and other things that I wished to makeimportant communications to Mdlle. de Cardoville."
"And what are these communications?"
"The fact is, father, I had gone to her the day of your de
parture, tobeg her to get me bail. I was followed; and when she learned this fromher waiting-woman, she concealed me in a hiding-place. It was a sort oflittle vaulted room, in which no light was admitted, except through atunnel, made like a chimney; yet in a few minutes, I could see prettyclearly. Having nothing better to do, I looked all about me and saw thatthe walls were covered with wainscoting. The entrance to this roomwas composed of a sliding panel, moving by means of weights and wheelsadmirably contrived. As these concern my trade, I was interested inthem, so I examined the springs, spite of my emotion, with curiosity,and understood the nature of their play; but there was one brass knob,of which I could not discover the use. It was in vain to pull and moveit from right to left, none of the springs were touched. I saidto myself: 'This knob, no doubt, belongs to another piece ofmechanism'--and the idea occurred to me, instead of drawing it towardsme, to push it with force. Directly after, I heard a grating sound,and perceived, just above the entrance to the hiding-place, one of thepanels, about two feet square, fly open like the door of a secretary. AsI had, no doubt, pushed the spring rather too hard, a bronze medal andchain fell out with a shock."
"And you saw the address--Rue Saint-Francois?" cried Dagobert.
"Yes, father; and with this medal, a sealed letter fell to the ground.On picking it up, I saw that it was addressed, in large letters: 'ForMdlle. de Cardoville. To be opened by her the moment it is delivered.'Under these words, I saw the initials 'R.' and 'C.,' accompanied by aflourish, and this date: 'Paris, November the 13th, 1830.' On the otherside of the envelope I perceived two seals, with the letters 'R.' and'C.,' surmounted by a coronet."
"And the seals were unbroken?" asked Mother Bunch.
"Perfectly whole."
"No doubt, then, Mdlle. de Cardoville was ignorant of the existence ofthese papers," said the sempstress.
"That was my first idea, since she was recommended to open the letterimmediately, and, notwithstanding this recommendation, which bore datetwo years back, the seals remained untouched."
"It is evident," said Dagobert. "What did you do?"
"I replaced the whole where it was before, promising myself to informMdlle. de Cardoville of it. But, a few minutes after, they entered myhiding-place, which had been discovered, and I did not see her again. Iwas only able to whisper a few words of doubtful meaning to one of herwaiting-women, on the subject of what I had found, hoping thereby toarouse the attention of her mistress; and, as soon as I was able towrite to you, my good sister, I begged you to go and call upon Mdlle. deCardoville."
"But this medal," said Dagobert, "is exactly like that possessed by thedaughter of Marshal Simon. How can you account for that?"
"Nothing so plain, father. Mdlle. de Cardoville is their relation. Iremember now, that she told me so."
"A relation of Rose and Blanche?"
"Yes," added Mother Bunch; "she told that also to me just now."
"Well, then," resumed Dagobert, looking anxiously at his son, "do younow understand why I must have my children this very day? Do you nowunderstand, as their poor mother told me on her death-bed, that oneday's delay might ruin all? Do you now see that I cannot be satisfiedwith a perhaps to-morrow, when I have come all the way from Siberia,only, that those children might be to-morrow in the Rue Saint-Francois?Do you at last perceive that I must have them this night, even if I haveto set fire to the convent?"
"But, father, if you employ violence--"
"Zounds! do you know what the commissary of police answered me thismorning, when I went to renew my charge against your mother's confessor?He said to me that there was no proof, and that they could do nothing."
"But now there is proof, father, for at least we know where the younggirls are. With that certainty we shall be strong. The law is morepowerful than all the superiors of convents in the world."
"And the Count de Montbron, to whom Mdlle. de Cardoville begs you toapply," said Mother Bunch, "is a man of influence. Tell him the reasonsthat make it so important for these young ladies, as well as Mdlle. deCardoville, to be at liberty this evening and he will certainly hastenthe course of justice, and to-night your children will be restored toyou."
"Sister is in the right, father. Go to the Count. Meanwhile, I will runto the commissary, and tell him that we now know where the young girlsare confined. Do you go home, and wait for us, my good girl. We willmeet at our own house!"
Dagobert had remained plunged in thought; suddenly, he said to Agricola:"Be it so. I will follow your counsel. But suppose the commissary saysto you: 'We cannot act before to-morrow'--suppose the Count de Montbronsays to me the same thing--do not think I shall stand with my armsfolded until the morning."
"But, father--"
"It is enough," resumed the soldier in an abrupt voice: "I have madeup my mind. Run to the commissary, my boy; wait for us at home, my goodgirl; I will go to the Count. Give me the ring. Now for the address!"
"The Count de Montbron, No. 7, Place Vendome," said she; "you come onbehalf of Mdlle. de Cardoville."
"I have a good memory," answered the soldier. "We will meet as soon aspossible in the Rue Brise-Miche."
"Yes, father; have good courage. You will see that the law protects anddefends honest people."
"So much the better," said the soldier; "because, otherwise, honestpeople would be obliged to protect and defend themselves. Farewell, mychildren! we will meet soon in the Rue Brise-Miche."
When Dagobert, Agricola, and Mother Bunch separated, it was already darknight.
