"What do you want?" he asked Marius, without adding, "sir."
"The police commissary."
"He is absent, but I represent him."
"It is a very secret affair."
"Then speak."
"And very urgent."
"In that case speak quick."
This man, who was calm and quick, was at once terrifying andreassuring. He inspired both fear and confidence. Marius told him ofhis adventure; that a person whom he only knew by sight was to be drawnthat very evening into a trap; that he, Marius Pontmercy, lawyer,residing in the next room to the den, had heard the whole plot throughthe partition; that the scoundrel's name who invented the snare wasJondrette; that he would have accomplices, probably prowlers at thebarrières, among others one Panchaud, _alias_ Printanier, _alias_Bigrenaille; that Jondrette's daughters would be on the watch; thatthere were no means of warning the threatened man, as not even his namewas known; and that, lastly, all this would come off at six in theevening, at the most deserted spot on the Boulevard de l'Hôpital, inthe house No. 50-52.
At this number the Inspector raised his head, and said coldly,--
"It must be in the room at the end of the passage."
"Exactly," Marius replied; and added, "do you know the house?"
The Inspector remained silent for a moment, and then answered, whilewarming his boot-heel at the door of the stove,--
"Apparently so."
He went on between his teeth, talking less to Marius than his cravat.
"Patron Minette must be mixed up in this."
This remark struck Marius.
"Patron Minette!" he said; "yes, I heard that name mentioned."
And he told the Inspector of the dialogue between the hairy man and thebearded man in the snow behind the wall in the Rue du Petit Banquier.The Inspector growled,--
"The hairy man must be Burgon, and the bearded man, Demi-liard, _alias_Deux Milliards."
He was again looking down and meditating. "As for FatherWhat's-his-name, I guess who he is. There, I have burnt my great-coat;they always make too large a fire in these cursed stoves. No. 50-52,formerly the property of one Gorbeau."
Then he looked at Marius.
"You only saw the hairy man and the bearded man?"
"And Panchaud."
"You did not see a small dandy prowling about there?"
"No."
"Nor a heavy lump of a fellow resembling the elephant in the Jardin-desPlantes?"
"No."
"Nor a scamp who looks like an old red-tail?"
"No."
"As for the fourth, no one sees him, not even his adjutants,assistants, and those he employs. It is not surprising, therefore, thatyou did not perceive him."
"No. Who are all these men?" Marius asked.
The Inspector continued: "Besides, it is not their hour." He fell intosilence, and presently added,--"50-52. I know the shanty. It isimpossible for us to hide ourselves in the interior without the actorsperceiving us, and then they would escape by putting off the farce.They are so modest, and frightened at an audience. That won't do, for Iwant to hear them sing and make them dance."
This soliloquy ended, he turned to Marius, and asked, as he looked athim searchingly,--
"Would you be afraid?"
"Of what?" Marius asked.
"Of these men."
"No more than I am of you," Marius answered roughly, for he wasbeginning to notice that this policeman had not yet said, "sir."
The Inspector looked at Marius more intently still, and continued, witha sort of sententious solemnity,--
"You speak like a brave man and like an honest man. Courage does notfear crime, nor honesty the authorities."
Marius interrupted him,--
"That is all very well, but what do you intend doing?"
The Inspector restricted himself to saying,--
"The lodgers in that house have latch-keys to let themselves in atnight. You have one?"
"Yes," said Marius.
"Have you it about you?"
"Yes."
"Give it to me," the Inspector said.
Marius took the key out of his waistcoat pocket, handed it to theInspector, and added,--
"If you take my advice you will bring a strong force."
The Inspector gave Marius such a glance as Voltaire would have givena Provincial Academician who proposed a rhyme to him; then he thrustboth hands into his immense coat-pockets and produced two small steelpistols, of the sort called "knock-me-downs." He handed them to Marius,saying sharply and quickly,--
"Take these. Go home. Conceal yourself in your room, and let themsuppose you out. They are loaded, both with two bullets. You willwatch, as you tell me there is a hole in the wall. People will arrive;let them go on a little. When you fancy the matter ripe, and youthink it time to stop it, you will fire a pistol, but not too soon.The rest concerns me. A shot in the air, in the ceiling, I don't carewhere,--but, mind, not too soon. Wait till the commencement of theexecution. You are a lawyer, and know what that means."
Marius took the pistols and placed them in a side pocket of his coat.
"They bulge that way, and attract attention," said the Inspector; "putthem in your trousers' pockets."
Marius did so.
"And now," the Inspector continued, "there is not a moment for any oneto lose. What o'clock is it? Half-past two. You said seven?"
"Six o'clock," Marius corrected.
"I have time," the Inspector added; "but only just time. Do not forgetanything I have said to you. A pistol-shot."
"All right." Marius replied.
And as he pat his hand on the latch to leave the room the Inspectorshouted to him,--
"By the way, if you should want me between this and then, come or sendhere. Ask for Inspector Javert."
CHAPTER XV.
JONDRETTE MAKES HIS PURCHASE.
At about three o'clock Courfeyrac happened to pass along the RueMouffetard, accompanied by Bossuet. The snow was thicker than ever, andfilled the air, and Bossuet had just said to Courfeyrac,--
"To see all these flakes of snow fall, we might, say that the sky issuffering from a plague of white butterflies."
All at once Bossuet noticed Marius coming up the street toward thebarrière with a peculiar look.
"Hilloh!" said Bossuet, "there's Marius."
"I saw him," said Courfeyrac; "but we won't speak to him."
"Why not?"
"He is busy."
"At what?"
"Do you not see that he looks as if he were following some one?"
"That is true," said Bossuet.
"Only see what eyes he makes!" Courfeyrac added.
"But whom the deuce is he following?"
"Some Mimi-Goton with flowers in her cap. He is in love."
"But," Bossuet observed, "I do not see any Mimi or any Goton, or anycap trimmed with flowers, in the street. There is not a single woman."
Courfeyrac looked, and exclaimed, "He is following a man."
A man wearing a cap, and whose gray beard could be distinguished,although his back was turned, was walking about twenty yards ahead ofMarius. This man was dressed in a perfectly new great-coat, which wastoo large for him, and a frightful pair of ragged trousers all blackwith mud. Bossuet burst into a laugh.
"Who can the man be?"
"That?" Courfeyrac replied; "oh, he is a poet. Poets are fond ofwearing the trousers of rabbit-skin pedlers and the coats of the Peersof France."
"Let us see where Marius is going," said Bossuet, "and where this manis going. Suppose we follow them, eh?"
"Bossuet!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, "Eagle of Meaux, you are a prodigiousbrute to think of following a man who is following a man."
They turned back. Marius had really seen Jondrette in the RueMouffetard, and was following him. Jondrette was walking along, notat all suspecting that an eye was already fixed upon him. He leftthe Rue Mouffetard, and Marius saw him enter one of the most hideouslodging-houses in the Rue Gracieuse, where h
e remained for about aquarter of an hour, and then returned to the Rue Mouffetard. He stoppedat an ironmonger's shop, which was at that period at the corner ofthe Rue Pierre-Lombard; and a few minutes after Marius saw him comeout of the shop, holding a large cold-chisel set in a wooden handle,which he hid under his great coat. He then turned to his left andhurried toward the Rue du Petit Banquier. Day was dying; the snow,which had ceased for a moment, had begun again, and Marius concealedhimself at the corner of the Rue du Petit Banquier, which was desertedas usual, and did not follow Jondrette. It was lucky that he actedthus, for Jondrette, on reaching the spot where Marius had listened tothe conversation of the hairy man and the bearded man, looked round,made sure that he was not followed, clambered over the wall, anddisappeared. The unused ground which this wall enclosed communicatedwith the back yard of a livery-stable-keeper of bad repute, who hadbeen a bankrupt, and still had a few vehicles standing under sheds.
Marius thought it would be as well to take advantage of Jondrette'sabsence and return home. Besides, time was slipping away, and everyevening Mame Bougon, when she went to wash up dishes in town, wasaccustomed to close the gate, and, as Marius had given his latch-key tothe Inspector, it was important that he should be in time. Night hadnearly set in along the whole horizon, and in the whole immensity therewas only one point still illumined by the sun, and that was the moon,which was rising red behind the low dome of the Salpêtrière. Mariushurried to No. 50-52, and the gate was still open when he arrived. Hewent up the stairs on tip-toe, and glided along the passage-wall tohis room. This passage, it will be remembered, was bordered on eitherside by rooms which were now to let, and Mame Bougon, as a generalrule, left the doors open. While passing one of these doors, Mariusfancied that he could see in the uninhabited room four men's headsvaguely lit up by a remnant of daylight which fell through a window.Marius did not attempt to see, as he did not wish to be seen himself;and he managed to re-enter his room noiselessly and unseen. It washigh time, for a moment after he heard Mame Bougon going out, and thehouse-gate shutting.
CHAPTER XVI.
A SONG TO AN ENGLISH AIR POPULAR IN 1832.
Marius sat down on his bed: it might be about half-past five, and onlyhalf an hour separated him from what was about to happen. He heard hisarteries beat as you hear the ticking of a clock in the darkness, andhe thought of the double march which was taking place at this moment inthe shadows,--crime advancing on one side, and justice coming up on theother. He was not frightened, but he could not think without a certaintremor of the things that were going to happen, like all those who aresuddenly assailed by a surprising adventure. This whole day producedon him the effect of a dream, and in order not to believe himself theprey of a nightmare he was obliged to feel in his pockets the coldbarrels of the pistols. It no longer snowed; the moon, now very bright,dissipated the mist, and its rays, mingled with the white reflectionfrom the fallen snow, imparted a twilight appearance to the room. Therewas a light in Jondrette's room, and Marius could see the hole in thepartition glowing with a ruddy brilliancy that appeared to him thecolor of blood. It was evident that this light could not be producedby a candle. There was no movement in the den, no one stirred there,no one spoke, there was not a breath; the silence was chilling andprofound, and had it not been for the light, Marius might have fanciedhimself close to a grave. He gently took off his boots and thrust themunder the bed. Several minutes elapsed, and then Marius heard thehouse-gate creaking on its hinges, a heavy quick step ran up the stairsand along the passage, the hasp of the door was noisily raised; it wasJondrette returned home. All at once several voices were raised, and itwas plain that the whole family were at home. They were merely silentin the master's absence, like the whelps in the absence of the wolves.
"It is I," he said.
"Good evening, pappy," the girls yelped.
"Well?" the wife asked.
"All is well," Jondrette answered, "but I am cold as a starved dog.That's right, I am glad to see that you are dressed, for it inspiresconfidence."
"All ready to go out."
"You will not forget anything that I told you? You will do it allright."
"Of course."
"Because--" Jondrette began, but did not complete the sentence.
Marius heard him lay something heavy on the table, probably the chiselwhich he had bought.
"Well," Jondrette continued, "have you been eating here?"
"Yes," said the mother; "I bought three large potatoes and some salt.I took advantage of the fire to roast them."
"Good!" Jondrette remarked; "to-morrow you will dine with me: we willhave a duck and trimmings, and you will feed like Charles the Tenth."
Then he added, lowering his voice,--
"The mousetrap is open, and the cats are here."
He again lowered his voice and said,--
"Put this in the fire."
Marius heard a clicking of coals stirred with pincers or some irontool, and Jondrette ask,--
"Have you tallowed the hinges of the door, so that they may make nonoise?"
"Yes," the mother answered.
"What o'clock is it?"
"Close on six. It has struck the half-hour at St. Médard."
"Hang it!" said Jondrette, "the girls must go on the watch. Come hereand listen to me."
There was a whispering, and then Jondrette's voice was again uplifted.
"Has Mame Bougon gone?"
"Yes," the mother answered.
"Are you sure there is nobody in the neighbor's room?"
"He has not come in all day, and you know that this is his dinner hour."
"Are you sure?"
"Quite."
"No matter," Jondrette added; "there is no harm in going to see whetherhe is in. Daughter, take the candle and go."
Marius fell on his hands and knees and silently crawled under the bed;he had scarce done so ere he saw light through the cracks of his door.
"Papa," a voice exclaimed, "he is out."
He recognized the elder girl's voice.
"Have you been in his room?" the lather asked.
"No," the girl replied; "but as his key is in his door he has gone out"
The father shouted,--
"Go in, all the same."
The door opened, and Marius saw the girl come in, candle in hand. Shewas the same as in the morning, save that she was even more fearfulin this light. She walked straight up to the bed, and Marius suffereda moment of intense anxiety; but there was a looking-glass hangingfrom a nail by the bedside, and it was to that she proceeded. Shestood on tip-toe and looked at herself; a noise of iron being movedcould be heard in the other room. She smoothed her hair with her hand,and smiled in the glass while singing, in her cracked and sepulchralvoice,--
"Nos amours out duré toute une semaine, Mais que du bonheur les instants sont courts, S'adorer huit jours c'était bien la peine! Le temps des amours devrait durer toujours! Devrait durer toujours! devrait durer toujours."
Still Marius trembled, for he thought that she could not help hearinghis breathing. She walked to the window and looked out, while sayingaloud with the half-crazy look she had,--
"How ugly Paris is when it has put on a white sheet!"
She returned to the glass, and began taking a fresh look at herself,first full face and then three-quarters.
"Well," asked the father, "what are you doing there?"
"I am looking under the bed and the furniture," she said, as shecontinued to smooth her hair; "but there is nobody."
"You she-devil!" the father yelled. "Come here directly, and lose notime."
"Coming, coming," she said; "there's no time to do anything here."
Then she hummed,--
"Vous me quittez pour aller à la gloire, Mon triste cœur suivra partout vos pas."
She took a parting glance at the glass and went off, closing the doorafter her. A moment later Marius heard the sound of the girls' nakedfeet pattering along the passage, and Jondrette's voice shouting tothem,-
-
"Pay attention! One at the barrière, and the other at the corner of theRue du Petit Banquier. Do not for a minute lose sight of the door ofthe house, and if you see anything come back at once--at once; you havea key to let yourselves in."
The elder daughter grumbled,--
"To stand sentry barefooted in the snow, what a treat!"
"To-morrow you shall have beetle-colored silk boots," the father said.
They went down the stain, and a few seconds later the sound of the gateclosing below announced that they had reached the street. The onlypersons in the house now were Marius, the Jondrettes, and probably,too, the mysterious beings of whom Marius had caught a glimpse in thegloom behind the door of the unoccupied room.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE USE OF MARIUS'S FIVE-FRANC PIECE.
Marius judged that the moment had arrived for him to return to hisobservatory. In a second, and with the agility of his age, he wasat the hole in the partition, and peeped through. The interior ofJondrette's lodging offered a strange appearance, and Marius wasable to account for the peculiar light he had noticed. A candle wasburning in a verdigrised candlestick, but it was not this which reallyillumined the room; the whole den was lit up with the ruddy glow ofa brazier standing in the fire-place, and filled with incandescentcharcoal; it was the heating-dish which the wife had prepared in themorning. The charcoal was glowing and the heating-dish red; a bluishflame played round it, and rendered it easy to recognize the shape ofthe chisel purchased by Jondrette, which was heating in the charcoal.In a corner, near the door, could be seen two heaps,--one apparently ofold iron, the other of ropes, arranged for some anticipated purpose.All this, to a person who did not know what was going to occur, wouldhave made his mind vacillate between a very simple and a very sinisteridea. The room, thus lit up, resembled a forge more than a mouthof hell; but Jondrette, in this light, was more like a demon than ablacksmith.