‘If you hadn’t given them to Jacqueline,’ said Dodgedeath, ‘that’s where you’d have found yourselves,…’ and he pointed in the direction of the Strand, by which the cab was passing.

  Prudence Servien crossed herself, as she might once have done at home in the country, as though she had seen a thunderbolt strike.

  ‘I shall forgive you,’ the Dab pursued, ‘on condition that you don’t attempt anything of the kind again, and that from now on you act like these two fingers of my right hand,’ he said showing them the index and the middle finger, ‘for the thumb is that good largue!’ And he tapped his aunt’s shoulder. ‘Listen to me. From now on, Paccard, you have nothing to fear, and you can follow your nose anywhere in Pantin as you please! I allow you to marry Prudence.’

  How Paccard and Prudence are to set themselves up

  PACCARD took Jacques Collin’s hand and kissed it respectfully.

  ‘What do I have to do?’ he said.

  ‘Nothing, you’ll have an income and women, without counting your wife, for you’re too Regency, old friend!… That’s what it is to be as handsome as you!’

  Paccard blushed at this mocking compliment from his sultan.

  ‘As for you, Prudence,’ Jacques continued, ‘you need a career, a condition, a future, and to remain in my service. Listen carefully. In the rue Sainte Barbe, there exists a nice little establishment belonging to the Madame Saint-Estève, whose name my aunt sometimes borrows… The shop has a good custom, it brings in fifteen or twenty thousand francs a year. The place is managed for Saint-Estéve by…’

  ‘La Gonore,’ said Jacqueline.

  ‘Poor La Pouraille’s largue,’ said Paccard. ‘That’s where I slipped off with Europe the day poor Madame van Bogseck died our mistress that was…’

  ‘It’s usual to chatter when I’m speaking, is it?’ said Jacques Collin.

  Deepest silence reigned in the carriage, and Paccard and Prudence no longer dared to look at each other.

  ‘The firm, then, is run by la Gonore,’ Jacques Collin went on. ‘If you went to hide there with Prudence, I can see, Paccard, that you’ve got enough sense to fob the dicks off, but that you’re not wide enough to bamboozle Mom,…’ he said pinching his aunt’s chin. ‘I can see now how she managed to find you… Well, the coincidence is fitting. You’re going back there, to Gonore’s… I proceed: Jacqueline will see Madame Nourisson to negotiate the purchase of her establishment in the rue Sainte Barbe, and you’ll be able to make a fortune there, if you behave yourself, little woman!’ he said looking at Prudence. ‘Mother Superior at your age, eh? just the ticket for a true daughter of France,’ he added in biting tones.

  Prudence flung her arms round Dodgedeath’s neck and kissed him, but with a sharp push which betrayed his extraordinary strength, the Dab flung her so abruptly away that but for Paccard, the wench’s head would have gone through the cab window.

  ‘Paws down! I don’t like that sort of behaviour!’ the Dab said drily. ‘It shows a lack of respect.’

  ‘He’s right, my love,’ said Paccard. ‘Look, it’s as if the Dab gave you a hundred thousand francs. The shop’s worth that. It’s on the main road, opposite the Gymnase. You get people coming out of the theatre…’

  ‘And I’ll do better than that, I’ll buy the house as well,’ said Dodgedeath.

  ‘In six years we shall be millionaires!’ cried Paccard.

  Tired of being interrupted, Dodgedeath fetched Paccard a kick in the shin which might have disabled him; but Paccard had nerves of rubber and bones of tinplate.

  ‘All right, Dab! we’ll shut up,’ he replied.

  ‘Do you think I’m talking nonsense?’ Dodgedeath went on, observing that Paccard had drunk too many little nips. ‘Listen. There are two hundred and fifty thousand francs in gold in the cellar of that house…’

  The deepest silence reigned once more in the hired carriage.

  ‘That gold is solidly bricked in… The sum has to be got at, and you’ve only three nights to do it in. Jacqueline will help you… A hundred thousand francs will pay for the establishment, fifty thousand will buy the house, and the rest you leave.’

  ‘Where?’ said Paccard.

  ‘In the cellar!’ echoed Prudence.

  ‘Silence!’ said Jacqueline.

  ‘Yes, but to move a load like that, you need a bit of good will from the coppers,’ said Paccard.

  ‘You’ll get it,’ said Dodgedeath drily. ‘What are you worrying about?…’

  Jacqueline looked at her nephew and was struck by the strain evident in his face beneath the impassible mask with which this man of such remarkable strength habitually concealed his feelings.

  ‘My child,’ said Jacques Collin to Prudence Servien, ‘my aunt is going to let you have the seven hundred and fifty thousand francs back.’

  ‘Seven hundred and thirty,’ said Paccard.

  ‘All right, seven hundred and thirty,’ Jacques Collin went on. ‘Tonight, you’ll have to find some pretext for going back to Madame Lucien’s house. You’ll get up by a skylight on to the roof; then you’ll let yourself down by the chimney into your late mistress’s bedroom, and you’ll stuff the packet she made into her mattress…’

  ‘Why not by the door?’ said Prudence Servien.

  ‘Imbecile, the seals are on!’ replied Jacques Collin. ‘The inventory’ll be made in a day or two, and the two of you’ll be innocent of theft…’

  ‘Long live the Dab!’ cried Paccard. ‘Ah, what kindness!’

  ‘Driver, stop!…’ Jacques Collin called out in his powerful voice.

  The cab had come to the cab-rank outside the Botanical Gardens.

  ‘Take yourselves off, little ones,’ said Jacques Collin, ‘and don’t do anything silly! Be on the Pont des Arts this evening at five o’clock, and there my aunt will tell you if any of these orders has to be changed. No chances have to be taken,’ he added in an undertone to his aunt. ‘Jacqueline will explain to you tomorrow,’ he went on, ‘how to set about removing the gold from the cellar. That is a very delicate operation…’

  Prudence and Paccard danced on the king’s highway, happy as discharged thieves.

  ‘Ah, what a man, the Dab!’ said Paccard.

  ‘He’d be the king of men, if he didn’t act so contemptuous to women!’

  ‘Oh, he’s a darling!’ cried Paccard. ‘Did you see what a kick he gave me! We deserved to be packed off ad paires; for after all it’s we who put him in this difficulty…’

  ‘So long,’ said the subtle and witty Prudence, ‘as he doesn’t bundle us into some crime to get us sent into the country…’

  ‘Him! if that was his fancy, he’d say so, you don’t know him! What a pretty load he’s fixed you up with! There we are, solid citizens. What luck! Oh, when he likes you, that man, there isn’t his equal for kindness!…’

  The quarry joins the hunt

  ‘My pet!’ said Jacques Collin to his aunt, ‘you take care of la Gonore, she must be put to sleep; in five days from now, she will be arrested, and in her room they’ll find a hundred and fifty francs in gold, part of one share in the murder of the aged Crottats, mother and father of the notary.’

  ‘That’ll get her five years in the Madelonettes,’ said Jacqueline.

  ‘About that,’ replied Jacques Collin. ‘So there’s a reason for the Nourrisson to get rid of her house; she can’t run it herself, and you can’t pick up a manageress just like that. You’ll be able to arrange the matter without difficulty. Then we shall have an eye there… But these three operations are all subordinate to the bargaining I’ve started with regard to our letters. So unpick your dress and give me your trade samples.

  Where are the three packets?’

  ‘Good Lord! they’re at la Rousse’s.’

  ‘Driver!’ cried Jacques Collin, ‘go back to the Palais de Justice, and get a move on!… I promised speed, here I’ve been away half an hour and it’s too long! Stay at la Rousse’s, and give the sealed packets to the messenger you’ll see
appear and ask for Madame de Saint-Estève. It’s the de that’ll be the password, and he will say to you: Madame, I come from the Attorney General’s office for what you know of. Take up your stand before la Rousse’s door watching what goes on in the Flower Market, so as not to arouse the attention of Prélard. As soon as you’ve passed on the letters, you can set Paccard and Prudence in action.’

  ‘I see what you’re up to,’ said Jacqueline, ‘you want to take Bibi-Lupin’s place. That boy’s death has turned your’ head!’

  ‘And Théodore, whose head they were going to crop in order to slice him at four o’clock this evening,’ cried Jacques Collin.

  ‘It’s not a bad idea! we shall end up as honest, prosperous folk, on a fine estate, under clear skies in Touraine.’

  ‘What else could I do? Lucien took away my soul, my entire happiness; I may still have thirty years to drag out, and I haven’t the heart. Instead of being the Dab of the convict stations, I shall be the Figaro of justice, and avenge Lucien. It’s only in the skin of the police that I can demolish Corentin. To have a man to eat, that gives me life again. The parts we play in the world are mere appearances; the reality is the idea!’ he added striking his forehead. ‘What have we left in the kitty?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said the aunt appalled by her nephew’s accent and expression. ‘I gave you everything for the boy. La Romette has no more than twenty thousand francs in the business. I took everything from Madame Nourrisson, she had about sixty thousand francs of her own…. Ah! the bedclothes we lie in haven’t been washed for a year. The boy devoured your Fanandels’ loot, our own funds and all the Nourrisson had.’

  ‘That made?’

  ‘Five hundred and sixty thousand…’

  ‘We have a hundred and fifty in gold, that Paccard and Prudence owe us. I’ll tell you where you can pick up two hundred more… The rest will come out of what Esther left. Nourrisson must be paid back. With Théodore, Paccard, Prudence, the Nourrisson and yourself, I shall soon have formed the unholy batallion I need… Listen, we’re nearly there…’

  ‘Here are the three letters,’ said Jacqueline who had just given the last scissor snip to the lining of her dress.

  ‘Good,’ replied Jacques Collin, taking the three precious autographs, three sheets of woven paper still scented. ‘Théodore did the job at Nanterre.’

  ‘Him, was it?…’

  ‘ Shut up, time’s precious, he wanted to offer a beakful to a little bird from Corsica called Ginetta… You can make use of la Nourrisson to find her, I’ll get the information out to you in a letter Governor Gault will let you have. Come to the wicket at the Conciergerie in two hours from now. That little girl has to be turned loose on a laundrywoman, sister of Godet, and she must be ready to take over… Godet and Ruffard were La Pouraille’s accomplices in the murder and theft at the Crottats’. The four hundred and fifty thousand francs are intact, one third in la Gonore’s cellar, that’s La Pouraille’s share; the second third in la Gonore’s room, that’s Ruffard’s; the third share is hidden at Godet’s sister’s.

  ‘We shall begin by taking a hundred and fifty thousand francs out of La Pouraille’s lot, then a hundred each out of Godet’s and Ruffard’s. Once Ruffard and Godet have been stowed away, it’ll be they who made off with what’s missing of their shares. I’ll make Godet believe that we’ve put a hundred thousand francs aside for him, and I’ll tell Ruffard and La Pouraille that la Gonore still has it for them!… Prudence and Paccard are doing the job at la Gonore’s. You and Ginetta, who strikes me as a bright little piece, you’ll do what needs to be done at Godet’s sister’s. For my beginnings in the art of comedy, I present the Stork with four hundred thousand francs from the Crottat theft, and the guilty parties. I give the impression of throwing light on the Nanterre murder. We pick up our lot, and we’re in with the boys! They used to hunt us, now we hunt them, that’s all. Give the cabby three francs.’

  They were at the Law Courts. Jacqueline payed, dazed. Dodgedeath climbed the staircase on his way back to the Attorney General.

  Let the English gentlemen shoot first

  A TOTAL change in one’s life is so violently critical a matter that, in spite of his decision, Jacques Collin climbed slowly up the staircase which, from the rue de la Barillerie, leads to the Galerie Marchande off beneath the peristyle of the Court of Assize, open the sombre premises of the public prosecutor’s department, semi-officially known as the Parquet. Some political matter had occasioned a confluence of people at the foot of the double staircase to the Assize Court, so that the convict, absorbed in his reflections, was delayed for some time by the crowd. To the left of this double staircase stands, like an enormous pillar, one of the close buttresses of the Palais, and let into its mass may be seen a small door. This little door leads to a spiral staircase communicating directly with the Conciergerie. It is used by the Attorney General, the governor of the Conciergerie, presiding judges of Assize, prosecuting counsel and the head of the security police. It was by way of a branch of this staircase, now condemned, that Marie Antoinette, the queen of France, was conducted before the revolutionary tribunal, which sat, as we know, in the great hall used for solemn hearings of the Central Court of Criminal Appeal.

  At the sight of this dreadful staircase the heart contracts on reflecting that the daughter of Maria Theresa, whose attendants, whose dressed hair, the hoops of whose petticoats filled the great staircase of Versailles, passed that way!… Perhaps she was expiating her mother’s crime, Poland hideously partitioned. Sovereigns who commit such crimes evidently give no thought to the price at which Providence will ransom them.

  Just as Jacques Collin reached the vaulted head of the great staircase, on his way to the Attorney General’s department, Bibi-Lupin emerged from that door hidden in the wall.

  The chief of the detective force on his way from the Conciergerie was also going to Monsieur de Granville’s. Bibi-Lupin’s astonishment on seeing before him the frock coat of Carlos Herrera, whom he had so closely watched that morning, may be imagined; he quickened his pace to a run. Jacques Collin turned. The two enemies stood face to face. On either side, each stood motionless, and the same glance left each of the two pairs of eyes, themselves so different, like two pistols which, in a duel, fire at the same moment.

  ‘This time I’ve got you, brigand!’ said the chief of the security police.

  ‘Ah, ah!…’ replied Jacques Collin, in a tone of irony. His first thought was that Monsieur de Granville had had him followed; and, strangely! he was hurt at finding the man less great than he had supposed.

  Bibi-Lupin leaped bravely at the throat of Jacques Collin, who, his eye on his adversary, delivered a sharp blow which sent him hands and feet in the air three paces away; then Dodgedeath went deliberately up to Bibi-Lupin and stretched out a hand to help him to his feet, much like an English boxer who, sure of his strength, asks nothing better than to go on with the fight. Bibi-Lupin was too much master of himself to start shouting; but he got up, ran to the entry to the corridor, and signed to a constable to stand there. Then, with the speed of lightning, he returned to his enemy, who had watched him calmly. Jacques Collin had made up his mind: Either the Procurator has not kept his word or he has not taken Bibi-Lupin into his confidence, in which case the situation needs explaining.

  ‘Do you mean to arrest me?’ Jacques Collin asked his enemy. ‘Say so without accompaniment. I know that here at the heart of the Stork’s precincts you are stronger than I. I could kill you with a couple of boxer’s kicks, but I can’t take on the constabulary and the regular troops. Let’s have no fuss; where do you want to take me?’

  ‘To Monsieur Camusot’s.’

  ‘Let us go to Monsieur Camusot’s,’ replied Jacques Collin.

  ‘But why shouldn’t we go to the Parquet itself?… it’s nearer,’ he added.

  Bibi-Lupin, who knew himself to be out of favour at the higher levels of judicial authority where he was suspected of having made his fortune at the expense of criminals and their v
ictims, was not displeased by the thought of presenting himself before the Director of Prosecutions with such a catch.

  ‘Come along, then, that suits me!’ he said. ‘But, since you’re giving yourself up, allow me to fit you up, I don’t trust you not to lash out!’ And he took a pair of thumb-cuffs out of his pocket.

  Jacques Collin held out his hands, and Bibi-Lupin fastened his thumbs.

  ‘Well, now, since you’re behaving yourself,’ he continued, ‘tell me how you got out of the Conciergerie?’

  ‘The same way as yourself, up the little staircase.’

  ‘So you showed the constabulary a new trick?’

  ‘No. Monsieur de Granville let me out on parole.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’

  ‘You’ll see!… Perhaps they’ll put thumb-cuffs on you.’

  An old acquaintance

  AT that moment, Corentin was saying to the Prosecutor General:

  ‘Well, sir, it’s just an hour ago since our man went, aren’t you afraid he’s been making game of you?… He may be on his way to Spain, where we shall never find him again, for Spain is a country with its own curious ways.’

  ‘Either I don’t know men, or he’ll come back; all his interests lie that way; he has more to gain from me than he has to give…’

  At that moment Bibi-Lupin appeared.

  ‘Monsieur le Comte,’ he said, ‘I have good news for you: Jacques Collin, who had escaped, has been recaptured.’

  ‘So that,’ cried Jacques Collin, ‘was how you kept your word! Ask your two-faced agent where he found me?’

  ‘Where?’ said the Procurator.

  ‘A few yards away from this office, under the archway,’ replied Bibi-Lupin.

  ‘Free this man of your trappings,’ Monsieur de Granville said severely to Bibi-Lupin. ‘Know that, until you’re ordered to arrest him again, you are to leave him at liberty… Get out!… You’re too much inclined to go about acting as though you alone were the law and the police.’