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Mysteries of Paris, V3 by Eugene Sue

E >> Eugene Sue >> Mysteries of Paris, V3




"Two blows! it was too little," said Blue Cap; "in his place, I should have
given him a bigger dose."

"And he should not have had it too hastily," added a prisoner.

"The Alderman," replied Pique-Vinaigre, "could have eaten ten like
Cut-in-half. So he was obliged to put these blows in his pocket; but he was
none the less furious at being struck, and above all, before Gringalet. So
at this very moment he promised to avenge himself, and an idea occurred to
him which could only have occurred to a demon of wickedness like himself.
While he was ruminating on this diabolical idea, the Alderman said:
'Remember, that if you attempt to injure this child again, I will force you
to clear out from Little Poland, you and your beasts; otherwise I will stir
up the neighborhood against you; you know they hate you here, so you will
have a passport which your back will remember, I promise you.' Traitor as
he was, in order to be able to execute his wicked idea, instead of
continuing to be angry against the Alderman, Cut-in-half cringed like a
dog, and said: 'Faith of a man! you were wrong to strike me, Alderman, and
to think that I wished any harm to Gringalet; on the contrary, I repeat to
you that I was teaching a new trick to my ape; he is not sweet-tempered
when he is angry, and if, in the scuffle, the little one was bitten, I am
sorry for it. 'Hum!' said the Alderman, looking at him out of the corner of
his eye, 'is this really true, what you tell me? If you wish to teach a
trick to your ape, why did you fasten him to Gringalet?' 'Because Gringalet
must also know it. This is what I wish to do; I will dress Gargousse in a
red coat and a cap with feathers; I will seat Gringalet in a child's chair;
then I will put a towel around his neck, and the ape, with a large wooden
razor will pretend to shave him.'

"The Alderman could not keep from laughing at this idea. 'Is it not
comical?' said Cut-in-half, with a smirking look. 'In truth, it is,' said
the Alderman, 'so much the more as they say your ape is sufficiently
cunning and knowing to play such a part.

"'I think so. When he has seen me five or six times pretend to shave
Gringalet, he will imitate me with his large wooden razor; but on that
account, as the child must become used to him, I have tied them together.'

"'But why have you chosen Gringalet rather than any other?'

"'Because he is the smallest of all, and, being seated, Gargousse will be
larger than he is; besides, I intended to give half the profits to
Gringalet.'

"'If this is so,' said the Alderman, reassured by the hypocrisy of the
owner of the beasts, 'I regret the dose I gave you; consider it as an
advance against the next time you do wrong.'

"While his master spoke with the Alderman, Gringalet dared not breathe; he
trembled like a leaf, and longed to throw himself at the Alderman's feet,
and beg to be taken away; but his courage failed him, and he began again to
despair, saying to himself, 'I shall be like the poor fly of my dream--the
spider will devour me; I was wrong to believe that the golden gnat would
save me!'

"'Look here, my boy; since Daddy Cut-'em-in-half gives you half of the
money, that ought to encourage you to accustom yourself to the ape. Bah!
bah! you will do it; and if the profits are large, you will have no cause
to complain.'

"'He complain! Have you any reason to complain?' asked his master, giving
him a side look so terrible that the child wished he was a hundred feet
under ground.

"'No, no, master!' he stammered.

"'You see, Alderman,' said Cut-in-half, 'he never has complained. I only
wish for his welfare, after all. If Gargousse scratched him the first time,
it shall not happen again, I promise you. I will watch.'

"'Very well! Thus every one will be content.'

"'Gringalet the most,' said Cut-in-half; 'is it not so?'

"'Yes, yes, master,' said the trembling child.

"'And to console you for your scratches, I will give you part of a good
breakfast; for the Alderman is going to send a plate of cutlets and
pickles, four bottles of wine, and a gallon of brandy.'

"'At your service, Cut-in-half, my cellar and my kitchen are open for the
whole world.'

"At heart the Alderman was a good man, but he was not very wise, and he
liked to sell his wine, and cutlets also. The rascal knew it well; you see
that he sent him off contented at having sold some eatables and drinkables,
and reassured as to the fate of Gringalet. So now, here is the poor little
fellow fallen again into the power of his master. The moment the Alderman
had turned on his heels, Cut-in-half showed the staircase to his victim,
and ordered him to mount at once to his garret; the child did not allow him
to say it twice, but went, very much alarmed.

"'Oh, Lord! I am lost,' he cried, throwing himself upon the straw beside
his turtle, and weeping bitterly. He was there for a good hour sobbing,
when he heard Cut-in-half's coarse voice calling him. What increased the
fear of Gringalet was, that it seemed to him the voice of his master had a
strange sound.

"'Will you come down at once?' said the owner of the beasts, with a horrid
oath.

"The child quickly descended the stairs. Hardly had he put his foot on the
ground, when his master seized him, and carried him to his chamber,
staggering at each step, for Cut-in-half had drunk so much that he was as
tipsy as a sow, and could hardly keep his legs; his body swayed backward
and forward, and he looked at Gringalet, rolling his eyes in a most
ferocious manner, but without speaking. He had too thick a tongue. Never
had the child been more afraid of him.

"Gargousse was chained to the foot of the bed. In the middle of the room
was a chair with a cord hanging on the back.

"'Si--(hic!)--sit down there,'" continued Pique-Vinaigre, imitating, to the
end of his story, the stammering of a drunken man, whenever he related what
Cut-in-half said.

"Gringalet seated himself trembling. Then Cut-in-half, without saying a
word, wound the cord around him, and tied him to the chair, and that not
easily; for although the owner of the beasts could still see a little, and
knew what he was about, you may imagine he made granny's knots. At length
Gringalet is firmly fastened in the chair. 'Oh, dear,' he murmured, 'this
time no one will come to deliver me.'

"Poor little fellow, he was right; no one could--no one did come, as you
will see. The Alderman had gone, and Cut-in-half had double-locked the door
of the court on the inside, and drawn the bolt; no one could come there to
the aid of Gringalet."

"Oh! this time," said several of the prisoners, much interested in the
story, "Gringalet, you are lost!"

"Poor little fellow!"---"What a pity!"

"If twenty sous would save him, I would give them."

"I also."

"Rascal of a Cut-in-half! Whatever is he going to do?"

Pique-Vinaigre continued: "When Gringalet was tied to the chair, his master
said to him, 'You young rascal, it is you who have been the cause that--I
have been beaten by the Alderman--you--are--go-o-o-ing to die!' And he drew
from his pocket a large razor, newly sharpened, opened it, and took with
one hand Gringalet by the hair."

A murmur of indignation and horror circulated among the prisoners, and
interrupted for a moment Pique-Vinaigre, who resumed:

"At sight of the razor the child began to cry, 'Pardon! master, pardon! do
not kill me! 'C-r-r-r-y, c-r-r-y, b-o-o-y--you will not (hic!) cry long,'
answered Cut-in-half.

"'Golden gnat! golden gnat! help!' cried poor Gringalet, almost delirious,
recalling to his mind his dream; 'here is the spider going to kill me!'

"'Ah! you call--me--a-a-a (hic!) spider!' said Cut-in-half; 'on
account--o-of--that--and other things you--are--go-o-o-ing to (hic!)
die--do you hear-r-r?--but--not by my (hic!) hand--because, besides, they
will guillotine me-e-e. I will say--and--prove--that it was--the a-a-pe--I
have prepared--but no matter!' said Cut-in-half, hardly able to stand;
then, calling his ape, which, at the end of his chain, ground his teeth,
and looked alternately at his master and the child:

"'Look here, Gargousse,' he said showing him the razor and Gringalet, whom
he held by the hair, 'you must do so to him; do you (hic!) see?'

"And passing the back of the razor several times over the throat of
Gringalet, he pretended to cut it. The confounded ape was such a good
imitator, so wicked, and so malicious, that he comprehended what his master
wished; and, to prove it to him, shook his chain with the left paw, threw
his head back, and pretended to cut his throat. 'That's it, Gargousse--
that's it,' said Cut-in-half stammering, shutting his eyes, and reeling so
much that he came near, falling with Gringalet and the chair. 'Yes, that's
it; I'll unfasten your chain--cut his whistle--that's it; hey, Gargousse?'

"The ape cried and chattered, as if to say yes, and put out his paw to take
the razor, which was held toward him.

"'Golden gnat, help!' murmured Gringalet, in a crying tone, certain now
that his hour was come. For, alas! he called the golden gnat to his
assistance, without any hope that he would come; but he said that as one
says 'Oh, Lord!' when one is drowning. Just at this moment, Gringalet saw
come in at the window one of those small flies, green and gold, which are
so common; one would have called it a spark of fire which flew, and just at
the moment Cut-in-half gave the razor to Gargousse, the golden gnat flew
straight into the eye of the wicked wretch. A fly in the eye is no great
thing; but, for a moment, it stings like a prick with a needle; so
Cut-in-half, who could hardly stand, fell on the floor and rolled like a
log to the foot of the bed where Gargousse was chained.

"'Golden gnat, I thank you; you have saved me!' cried Gringalet; for, still
seated, and tied on the chair, he had seen everything."

"It is true enough, the golden gnat prevented his throat from being cut,"
cried the prisoners, transported with joy.

"Hooray for the golden gnat!" cried Blue Cap.

"Yes, long live the golden gnat!" repeated several voices.

"Bravo, Pique-Vinaigre and his stories!" said another.

"Stop, then," resumed the patterer, "here's the finest and most terrible
part of the story that I had promised you. Cut-in-half had fallen on the
ground like lead; he was so drunk that he stirred no more than a log; he
was dead drunk, and knew nothing; but, in falling, he came near crushing
Gargousse, and had almost broken one of his hind paws. You know how wicked
this villainous beast was--rancorous and malicious. He held on to the razor
which his master had given him to cut the throat of Gringalet. What does my
lovely ape do when he sees his master stretched on his back, immovable as a
fried carp, and much at his ease? He sprung upon him, crouched on his
breast, with one of his paws stretched the skin of his throat, and with the
other--click! he cut his windpipe in a moment, exactly as Cut-in-half had
shown him how to operate on Gringalet."

"Bravo!"

"Well done!"

"Long live Gargousse!"

"The little golden gnat forever!"

"Bravo, Gringalet!"

"Hooray, Gargousse!" cried the prisoners with enthusiasm.

"Well, my friends!" cried Pique-Vinaigre, enchanted at the success of his
story, "what you have just cried, all Little Poland cried an hour later."

"How is that--how?"

"I told you that, to do this bloody deed quite at his ease, Cut-in-half had
locked his door on the inside. In the evening, the children returned, one
after the other, with their beasts; the first knocked--no answer; at
length, when they were all assembled, they knocked again--no reply; one of
them went after the Alderman, and told him that they had knocked, and that
their master did not open the door. 'The fellow is as drunk as a Dutchman,'
said he. 'I sent him some wine just now; we must break open the door; the
children cannot remain all night out of doors.'

"They break open the doors, they enter, they mount the stairs, they reach
the chamber, and what do they see? Gargousse, chained and crouching on the
body of his master, and playing with the razor; poor Gringalet, happily out
of his reach, still seated, and tied on the chair, not daring to cast his
eyes on the dead body, and looking at--guess what? The little golden fly,
which, after having fluttered around the child, as if to felicitate him,
had finally come and seated itself on his little hand. Gringalet related
all to the Alderman, and the crowd who followed him; this appeared truly,
as they said, an act of Providence; then the Alderman said, 'A triumph to
Gringalet; a triumph to Gargousse, who has killed this bad Cut-in-half. He
cut others; it was his turn to be cut!'

"'Yes, yes!' said the crowd, for the defunct was detested by everybody, 'a
triumph for Gargousse! a triumph for Gringalet.'

"It was night; they lighted wisps of straw, they tied Gargousse on a bench,
which four boys carried on their shoulders; the sweet pet of an ape did not
appear to dislike this, and assumed the airs of a conqueror, showing his
teeth to the crowd. After the ape came the Alderman, carrying Gringalet in
his arms: all the little boys, each with his beast, surrounded the
Alderman; one carrying his fox, another his marmoset, another his
guinea-pig: those who played on the hurdygurdy, played on the hurdygurdy;
there were chimney-sweeps, with their bagpipes, who also played; it was an
uproar of joy, which cannot be imagined! Behind the musicians came all the
inhabitants of Little Poland, men, women, and children; they all held
torches, and shouted like madmen, 'Hooray, Gringalet!' 'Gargousse forever!'
The cortege in this order marched round the house of Cut-in-half. It was a
droll spectacle; the old buildings and all the figures illuminated by the
red light of the straw fires, which flickered, and sparkled, and blazed up!
As to Gringalet, the first thing he did, once at liberty, was to place the
little golden fly in a paper box; and he kept repeating, during his
triumph, 'Little golden gnat, I did well to hinder the spiders from eating
you, for---'"

The recital of Pique-Vinaigre was interrupted.

"Roussel, ahoy!" cried a voice from without; "come then, and eat your soup;
four o'clock will strike in ten minutes."

"All right! the story is about finished. I'll go. Thank you, my boy, you
have amused me finely; you may be proud of it," said the keeper to
Pique-Vinaigre, going toward the door. Then, stopping, "Be good boys!" he
added, to the prisoners, turning around.

"We are going to hear the end of the story," said Skeleton, almost bursting
with restrained rage. Then he whispered to the Big Cripple, "Go to the
door, look after the keeper, and when you have seen him go out of the
court, cry 'Gargousse!' and the spy is dead."

"Just so," said the Cripple, who accompanied the keeper, and remained
standing near the door, watching him.

"I told you, then," said Pique-Vinaigre, "that Gringalet, all the time of
his triumph, said to himself, 'Little gnat, I have---'"

"Gargousse!" cried the cripple.

"Mine! Gringalet, I will be your spider!" shouted Skeleton, throwing
himself on Germain so that he could neither make a movement nor utter a
cry. His voice died under the formidable grasp of the long iron fingers.




CHAPTER XI.

AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND.


"If you are the spider, I will be the golden gnat, Skeleton of evil!" cried
a voice, at the moment when Germain, surprised by the violence and sudden
attack of his implacable enemy, fell backward on his bench, at the mercy of
the ruffian, who, with one knee on his breast, held him by the throat.
"Yes, I will be the gnat, and, what is more, a famous gnat!" repeated the
man in the blue cap, of whom we have spoken; then, with a furious bound,
overturning three or four prisoners who separated him from Germain, he
sprung upon Skeleton, and struck him on his head, between the eyes, such a
torrent of blows with his fists that the sound was like a hammer upon an
anvil.

The man in the blue cap (who was no other than the Chourineur) added, as he
redoubled the rapidity of his hammering on the head of the Skeleton, "It is
the hail-storm of fisticuffs which M. Rudolph planted on my skull. I have
learned the trick."

At this unexpected assault, the prisoners were struck with surprise, taking
no part for or against the Chourineur. Many of them, still under the
salutary impression of the story of Pique-Vinaigre, were even satisfied at
this incident, which might save Germain. Skeleton, at first stunned,
staggered like an ox under the butcher's ax, extended his hand mechanically
to ward off the blows of his enemy. Germain was enabled to disengage
himself from the mortal grip, and half arose.

"But what is all this? who is this bruiser?" cried the Cripple; and
springing upon the Chourineur, he tried to seize his arms from behind,
while the latter endeavored to hold down Skeleton on the bench.

The defender of Germain answered the attack by a kick so violent, that he
sent the Cripple rolling to the extremity of the circle formed by the
prisoners. Germain, of a livid paleness, half suffocated, kneeling beside
the bench, did not appear to have any consciousness of what was passing
around him. The strangulation had been so violent and painful he hardly
breathed. After he had recovered a little, Skeleton, by a desperate effort,
succeeded in shaking off the Chourineur, and getting upon his feet.
Panting, drunk with rage and hatred, he was frightful. His cadaverous face
streamed with blood, his upper lip, drawn back like a mad wolfs, displayed
his teeth closely set against each other. At length he cried, in a voice
breathless with anger and fatigue, for his struggle with the Chourineur had
been violent, "Cut him down, the turncoat, cowards! who let me be attacked
traitorously, or the spy will escape."

During this kind of truce, the Chourineur, raising up the half-fainting
Germain, had skillfully managed to approach by degrees an angle of the
wall, where he placed him. Profiting by this excellent position of defense,
the Chourineur could then, without fear of being attacked from behind, hold
out a long time against the prisoners, on whom the courage and Herculean
strength which he had just displayed made a powerful impression.
Pique-Vinaigre, alarmed, had disappeared during the tumult, without any one
remarking his absence.

Seeing the hesitation of the greater part of the prisoners, Skeleton said,
"Come on, then, let us do the job for both of them, the big 'un and the
little spy."

"Not too fast!" answered the Chourineur, preparing for the combat; "look
out for yourself, Bones! If you wish to play Cut-in-half, I will play
Gargousse--I'll cut your weasand."

"Why don't you jump on him?" cried the Cripple. "Why does this madman
defend the spy? Death to the spy, and him also! If he defends Germain, he
is a traitor."

"Yes! yes!"

"Death to the betrayers!"

"Death!"

"Yes; death to the traitor who defends him!"

Such were the cries of several of the prisoners. A part of them, more
merciful, cried, "Not before he speaks!"

"Yes, let him explain!"

"A man must not be killed without a hearing!"

"And without defense!"

"One would be a regular Cut-in-half!"

"So much the better!" answered the Cripple and the partisans of Skeleton.

"One cannot do too much to a spy!"

"Death to him!"

"Fall upon him!"

"Let us support Skeleton!"

"Yes, yes! down with the Blue Cap!"

"No; let us sustain the Blue Cap! hang the Skeleton!" answered the party of
the Chourineur.

"No; down with the Blue Cap!"

"Down with Skeleton!"

"That's the ticket, pals!" cried the Chourineur, addressing those prisoners
who ranged themselves on his side; "you have hearts; you will not see a man
murdered who is half dead; only cowards are capable of such conduct.
Skeleton is no bad joker; he is condemned in advance; that is the reason
why he urges you on. But if you aid him to kill Germain, you will be
roughly treated. Besides, I have a proposition to make. Skeleton wants to
finish this young man. Well! let him come and take him, if he can: it will
be a match between ourselves; we will walk into each other, and you will
see; but he dares not--he is like Cut-in-half, strong among the kids."

The vigor, energy, and hardy aspect of the Chourineur had a powerful effect
on the prisoners; a considerable number ranged themselves on his side, and
surrounded Germain; Skeleton's party were grouped around that ruffian. A
bloody affray was about to take place, when the quick and measured step of
a guard of infantry was heard in the court. Pique-Vinaigre, profiting by
the noise and general commotion, had gained the court and knocked at the
wicket, in order to inform the keepers of what was going on in the hall.
The arrival of the soldiers put an end to the scene. Germain, Skeleton, and
the Chourineur were conducted to the governor's presence; the first to
lodge his complaint, the others to answer the charge of a fight in the
prison.

The alarm and sufferings of Germain were so intense, his weakness so great,
that he was obliged to lean on two of the keepers to reach the governor's
room. There he became quite faint; his excoriated throat bore the livid and
bloody marks of the Skeleton's iron fingers. A few seconds more, and the
betrothed of Rigolette would have been strangled. The keeper charged with
the hall watch, who, as we have said, was much interested for Germain, gave
him every assistance. When he came to himself, when reflection succeeded
the rapid and terrible emotions that had hardly left him the exercise of
his reason, his first thought was for his deliverer.

"Thank you for your attentions, sir," he said to the keeper; "but for that
courageous man, I was lost."

"How are you now?"

"Better. Ah! all that has passed seems to me like a horrid dream!"

"Recover yourself."

"And my savior, where is he?"

"In the governor's room. He is telling how the affray occurred. It appears
that without him----"

"I should have been murdered, sir. Oh! tell me his name--who is he?"

"His name I do not know; he is nicknamed the Slasher; he was once in the
galleys."

"And the crime which brought him here, perhaps, is not serious?"

"Very serious--burglary," said the keeper. "He will probably have the same
dose as Pique-Vinaigre; fifteen or twenty years of hard labor, and the
pillory, as he is an old offender."

Germain shuddered; he would have preferred to be bound by the ties of
gratitude to one less criminal.

"Oh! it is frightful," he said; "and yet this man, without knowing me, took
my part. So much courage, so much generosity."

"What would you have, sir? Sometimes there is some good left in these
people. The most important fact is, that you are saved; to-morrow you will
have your own cell, and for to-night you will sleep in the infirmary,
according to orders. Come, courage, sir! The worst is over; when your
pretty little visitor comes to see you, you can reassure her; for, once in
your own cell, you will have nothing more to fear."

"Oh! no, I will not speak to her about it; but I wish to thank my defender.
However culpable he may be in the eyes of the law, he has none the less
saved my life."

"I hear him leaving the governor's room. Skeleton is now to be examined; I
will take them back together, Skeleton to the dungeon, and the Slasher to
the Lions' Den. He will, besides, be a little recompensed for what he has
done for you; for as he is a bold and determined fellow, such as one should
be to lead others, it is probable that he will take the place of Skeleton
as provost."

The Slasher having crossed a little lobby, on which opened the governor's
room, entered the apartment where Germain was seated.

"Wait for me here," said the keeper to the Slasher; "I am going to learn
what the governor decides to do with the Skeleton, and I will return
directly for you. There is our young man quite recovered; he wishes to
thank you, and he has reason too, for without you all had been finished for
him." The keeper retired. Slasher's features were radiant with delight. He
advanced joyfully, saying:

"Thunder! how happy I am at saving you!" And he extended his hand to
Germain.

He, from a feeling of involuntary repulsion, at first drew back slightly,
instead of taking the hand offered by the Slasher; then, recollecting that,
after all, he owed his life to this man, he wished to make amends for this
first movement of repugnance. But the Slasher had perceived it; a gloom
spread over his face, and drawing back in his turn, he said, with much
bitterness, "Ah! it is right. Pardon me, sir."

"No, it is I who should ask your pardon. Am I not a prisoner like you? I
should only think of the service you have rendered me--you have saved my
life. Your hand, friend, I entreat you. I pray you, your hand."

"Thank you; now it is useless. The first movement is everything. If you had
at first given me your hand, that would have given me pleasure; but, on
reflection, it is I who do not wish it. Not because I am a prisoner, like
you, but," he added, in a hesitating and gloomy manner, "because, before I
was here, I was--"

Alex Ross: Winner of the Guardian first book award
Stuart Evers: They made a real difference to Britain's literary culture, and it would be a terrible shame if they got forgotten in the age of Amazon

Congratulations to Alex Ross, winner of the Guardian first book award
One of only seven copies of The Tales of Beedle the Bard handwritten by JK Rowling is unveiled at the New York Public Library as the mass market edition goes on sale around the world

The arcane first book that's also a bestseller

Congratulations to Alex Ross, the deserving winner of the 2008 Guardian first book award. There's been a massed chorus of appreciation for this work already, so I shan't add much, except to say that what I particular enjoy about it is the connections it makes between musics and musicians. I'm the sort of person who goes to a lot of concerts, plays the violin, has some kind of grasp of how the history of music works – but frankly, it's all a bit fragmented and vague, since I have never studied the history of music properly and I can't really do the textbook musicological stuff. As I was reading Ross's book, it dawned on me that most of my knowledge of 20th-century music was based on reading the occasional Grove essay – and mostly, reading programme notes. What Ross's book does brilliantly is knit all these odd and isolated bits of knowledge together, so that everything starts to synthesise rather wonderfully, and you get to know what Sibelius thought of Stravinsky, say (not much – "stillborn affectations" was the phrase employed); or that Alban Berg was lionised by George Gershwin; or that David Bowie referenced Philip Glass and vice versa. That, and then the material is set against its historical and political background, such that this is a book for history-lovers as much as music-lovers.

By the way, there's a pungent criticism of the new-music scene by Hans Eisler in 1928, as quoted by Ross. How much have things changed, I wonder?

"The big music festivals have become downright stock exchanges, where the value of the works is assessed and contracts for the coming season are settled. Yet all this noise is carried out in the vacuum of a bell glass, so to speak, so that not a sound can be heard outside. An empty officiousness celebrates orgies of inbreeding, while there is a complete lack of interest or participation of a public of any kind."

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