The Mysteries of Paris, Volume 4 of 6. Эжен Сю
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let her show her face here when she comes out, and I'll serve her in such a way she sha'n't forget one while! I'll match her! I'll – "
Here the widow, who had been buried in profound reflection, suddenly interrupted her daughter by saying:
"You think something profitable might be got out of the old fellow who lives in the doctor's house, do you not?"
"Yes, mother!"
"He looks poor and shabby as any common beggar!"
"And, for all that, he is a nobleman."
"A nobleman?"
"True as you're alive! And, what's more, he carries a purse full of gold, spite of his always going into Paris, and returning, on foot, leaning on an old stick, just for all the world like a poor wretch that had not a sou in the world."
"How do you know that he has gold?"
"A little while ago I was at the post-office at Asnières, to inquire whether there was any letter for us from Toulon – "
At these words, which recalled the circumstance of her son's confinement in the galleys, the brows of the widow were contracted with a dark frown, while a half repressed sigh escaped her lips. Unheeding these signs of perturbation, Calabash proceeded:
"I was waiting my turn, when the old man who lives at the doctor's house entered the office. I knew him again directly, by his white hair and beard, his dark complexion, and thick black eyebrows. He does not look like one that would be easily managed, I can tell you; and, spite of his age, he has the appearance of a determined old fool that would die sooner than yield. He walked straight up to the postmistress. 'Pray,' said he, 'have you any letters from Angers for M. le Comte de Remy?' 'Yes,' replied the woman, 'here is one.' 'Then it is for me,' said the old man; 'here is my passport.' While the postmistress was examining it, he drew out a green silk purse, to pay the postage; and, I promise you, one end was stuffed with gold till it looked as large as an egg. I know it was gold, for I saw the bright, yellow pieces shining through the meshes of the purse; and I am quite certain there must have been at least forty or fifty louis in it!" cried Calabash, her eyes glowing with a covetous eagerness to possess herself of such a treasure. "And only to think," continued she, "of a person, with all that money in his pocket, going about like an old beggar! No doubt he is some old miser, too rich to be able to count his hoards. One good thing, mother, we know his name; that may assist us in gaining admittance into the house. As soon as Amandine can find out for us whether he has any servants or not – "
A loud barking of dogs here interrupted Calabash.
"Listen, mother," cried she; "no doubt the dogs hear the sound of a boat approaching; it must be either Martial or Nicholas."
At the mention of Martial's name, the features of Amandine expressed a sort of troubled joy. After waiting for some minutes, during which the anxious looks of the impatient child were fixed on the door, she saw, to her extreme regret, Nicholas, the future accomplice of Barbillon, make his appearance. The physiognomy of the youth was at once ignoble and ferocious; small in figure, short in stature, and mean in appearance, no one would have deemed him a likely person to pursue the dangerous and criminal path he trod. Unhappily, a sort of wild, savage energy supplied the place of that physical force in which the hardened youth was deficient. Over his blue loose frock he wore a kind of vest, without sleeves, made of goatskin, covered with long brown hair. As he entered, he threw on the ground a lump of copper, which he had with difficulty carried on his shoulder.
"A famous good night I have made of it, mother!" said he, in a hoarse and hollow voice, after he had freed himself from his burden. "Look there! There's a prize. Well, I've got three more lumps of copper, quite as big as that, in my boat, a bundle of clothes, and a case filled with something, I know not what, for I did not waste my time in opening it. Perhaps I have been robbed on my way home; we shall see."
"And the man you were to meet on the Quai de Billy?" inquired Calabash, while the widow regarded her son in silence.
The only reply made by the young man consisted in his plunging his hand into the pocket of his trousers, and jingling a quantity of silver.
"Did you take all that from him?" cried Calabash.
"No, I didn't; he shelled out two hundred francs of his own accord; and he will fork out eight hundred more as soon as I have – But that's enough; let's, first of all, unload my boat; we can jabber afterwards. Is not Martial here?"
"No," said his sister.
"So much the better; we will put away the swag before he sees it; leastways, if he can be kept from knowing about it."
"What! Are you afraid of him, you coward?" asked Calabash, provokingly.
Nicholas shrugged his shoulders significantly; then replied:
"Afraid of him? No, I should rather think not! But I have a strong suspicion he means to sell us, – that is my only fear; as for any other sort of dread, my weazen-slicer (knife) has rather too keen an edge for that!"
"Ah, when he is not here, you are full of boast and brag; but only let him show his face, and you are quiet as a mouse!"
This reproach seemed quite thrown away upon Nicholas, who, affecting not to have heard it, exclaimed:
"Come, come! Let's unload the boat at once. Where is François, mother? He could help us a good deal."
"Mother has locked him up, after having preciously flogged him; and, I can tell you, he will have to go to bed without any supper."
"Well and good as far as that goes; but still, he might lend a hand in unloading the boat, – eh, mother? Because, then myself and Calabash could fetch all in at once."
The widow raised her hand, and pointed with her finger towards the ceiling. Her daughter perfectly comprehended the signal, and departed at once to fetch François.
The countenance of the widow Martial had become less cloudy since the arrival of Nicholas, whom she greatly preferred to Calabash, but by no means entertaining for him the affection she felt for her Toulon son, as she designated him; for the maternal love of this ferocious woman appeared to increase in proportion to the criminality of her offspring. This perverse preference will serve to account for the widow's indifference towards her two younger children, neither of whom exhibited any disposition to evil, as well as her perfect hatred of Martial, her eldest son, who, although not leading an altogether irreproachable life, might still have passed for a perfectly honest and well-conducted person if placed in comparison with Nicholas, Calabash, or his brother, the felon at Toulon.
"Which road did you take to-night?" inquired the widow of her son.
"Why, as I returned from the Quai de Billy, where, you know, I had to go to meet the gentleman who appointed to see me there, I spied a barge moored alongside the quay; it was as dark as pitch. 'Halloa!' says I, 'no light in the cabin? No doubt,' says I, 'all hands are ashore. I'll just go on board, and have a look; if I meet any one, it's easy to ask for a bit of string, and make up a fudge about wanting to splice my oar.' So up the side I climbs, and ventures into the cabin. Not a soul was there; so I began collecting all I could find: clothes, a great box, and, on the deck, four quintals of copper. So, you may guess, I was obliged to make two journeys. The vessel was loaded with copper and iron; but here comes François and Calabash. Now, then, let's be off to the boat. Here, you young un, you Amandine! Look sharp, and make yourself useful; you can carry the clothes; we must get new things, you know, before we can throw aside our old ones."
Left alone, the widow busied herself in preparations for the family supper. She placed on the table bottles, glasses, earthenware, plates, with forks and spoons of silver; and, by the time this occupation was completed, her offspring returned heavily laden.
Little François staggered beneath the weight of copper which he carried on his shoulders, and Amandine was almost buried beneath the mass of stolen garments which she bore on her head, while Nicholas and Calabash brought in between them a wooden case, on the top of which lay the fourth lump of copper.
"The case, – the case!" cried Calabash, with savage eagerness. "Come, let's rip it open, and know what's in it."
The lumps of copper were flung on the ground. Nicholas took