The Wandering Jew, Complete

E >> Eugene Sue >> The Wandering Jew, Complete


The sempstress, drying her tears, did as desired, while Agricola, by the
help of bellows, revived the fire in which the tongs were heating.

"Here are your tools, Agricola," said the hunchback, in a deeply-agitated
voice, as she presented them with trembling hands to the smith, who, with
the aid of the pincers, soon drew from the fire the white-hot tongs, and,
with vigorous blows of the hammer, formed them into a hook, taking the
stove for his anvil.

Dagobert had remained silent and pensive. Suddenly he said to Frances,
taking her by the hand: "You know what metal your son is. To prevent his
following me would now be impossible. But do not be afraid, dear wife; we
shall succeed--at least, I hope so. And if we should not succeed--if
Agricola and me should be arrested--well! we are not cowards; we shall
not commit suicide; but father and son will go arm in arm to prison, with
heads high and proud, look like two brave men who have done their duty.
The day of trial must come, and we will explain all, honestly, openly--we
will say, that, driven to the last extremity, finding no support, no
protection in the law, we were forced to have recourse to violence. So
hammer away, my boy!" added Dagobert, addressing his son, pounding the
hot iron; "forge, forge, without fear. Honest judges will absolve honest
men."

"Yes, father, you are right, be at ease dear mother! The judges will see
the difference between rascals who scale walls in order to rob, and an
old soldier and his son who, at peril of their liberty, their life, their
honor, have sought only to deliver unhappy victims."

"And if this language should not be heard," resumed Dagobert, "so much
the worse for them! It will not be your son, or husband, who will be
dishonored in the eyes of honest people. If they send us to the galleys,
and we have courage to survive--the young and the old convict will wear
their chains proudly--and the renegade marquis, the traitor priest, will
bear more shame than we. So, forge without fear, my boy! There are things
which the galleys themselves cannot disgrace--our good conscience and our
honor! But now," he added, "two words with my good Mother Bunch. It grows
late, and time presses. On entering the garden, did you remark if the
windows of the convent were far from the ground?"

"No, not very far, M. Dagobert--particularly on that side which is
opposite to the madhouse, where Mdlle. de Cardoville is confined."

"How did you manage to speak to that young lady?"

"She was on the other side of an open paling, which separates the two
gardens."

"Excellent!" said Agricola, as he continued to hammer the iron: "we can
easily pass from one garden to the other. The madhouse may perhaps be the
readier way out. Unfortunately, you do not know, Mdlle. de Cardoville's
chamber."

"Yes, I do," returned the work-girl, recollecting herself. "She is lodged
in one of the wings, and there is a shade over her window, painted like
canvas, with blue and white stripes."

"Good! I shall not forget that."

"And can you form no guess as to where are the rooms of my poor
children?" said Dagobert.

After a moment's reflection, Mother Bunch answered, "They are opposite to
the chamber occupied by Mdlle. de Cardoville, for she makes signs to them
from her window: and I now remember she told me, that their two rooms are
on different stories, one on the ground-floor, and the other up one pair
of stairs."

"Are these windows grated?" asked the smith.

"I do not know."

"Never mind, my good girl: with these indications we shall do very well,"
said Dagobert. "For the rest, I have my plans."

"Some water, my little sister," said Agricola, "that I may cool my iron."
Then addressing his father: "Will this hook do?"

"Yes, my boy; as soon as it is cold we will fasten the cord."

For some time, Frances Baudoin had remained upon her knees, praying with
fervor. She implored Heaven to have pity on Agricola and Dagobert, who,
in their ignorance, were about to commit a great crime; and she entreated
that the celestial vengeance might fall upon her only, as she alone had
been the cause of the fatal resolution of her son and husband.

Dagobert and Agricola finished their preparations in silence. They were
both very pale, and solemnly grave. They felt all the danger of so
desperate an enterprise.

The clock at Saint-Mery's struck ten. The sound of the bell was faint,
and almost drowned by the lashing of the wind and rain, which had not
ceased for a moment.

"Ten o'clock!" said Dagobert, with a start. "There is not a minute to
lose. Take the sack, Agricola."

"Yes, father."

As he went to fetch the sack, Agricola approached Mother Bunch, who was
hardly able to sustain herself, and said to her in a rapid whisper: "If
we are not here to-morrow, take care of my mother. Go to M. Hardy, who
will perhaps have returned from his journey. Courage, my sister! embrace
me. I leave poor mother to you." The smith, deeply affected, pressed the
almost fainting girl in his arms.

"Come, old Spoil-sport," said Dagobert: "you shall be our scout."
Approaching his wife, who, just risen from the ground, was clasping her
son's head to her bosom, and covering it with tears and kisses, he said
to her, with a semblance of calmness and serenity: "Come, my dear wife,
be reasonable! Make us a good fire. In two or three hours we will bring
home the two poor children, and a fine young lady. Kiss me! that will
bring me luck."

Frances threw herself on her husband's neck, without uttering a word.
This mute despair, mingled with convulsive sobs, was heart-rending.
Dagobert was obliged to tear himself from his wife's arms, and striving
to conceal his emotion, he said to his son, in an agitated voice: "Let us
go--she unmans me. Take care of her, my good Mother Bunch.
Agricola--come!"

The soldier slipped the pistols into the pocket of his great coat, and
rushed towards the door, followed by Spoil-sport.

"My son, let me embrace you once more--alas! it is perhaps for the last
time!" cried the unfortunate mother, incapable of rising, but stretching
out her arms to Agricola. "Forgive me! it is all my fault."

The smith turned back, mingled his tears with those of his mother--for he
also wept--and murmured, in a stifled voice: "Adieu, dear mother! Be
comforted. We shall soon meet again."

Then, escaping from the embrace, he joined his father upon the stairs.

Frances Baudoin heaved a long sigh, and fell almost lifeless into the
needlewoman's arms.

Dagobert and Agricola left the Rue Brise-Miche in the height of the
storm, and hastened with great strides towards the Boulevard de
l'Hopital, followed by the dog.




CHAPTER XIII.

BURGLARY.

Half-past eleven had just struck, when Dagobert and his son arrived on
the Boulevard de l'Hopital.

The wind blew violently, and the rain fell down in torrents, but
notwithstanding the thickness of the watery clouds, it was tolerably
light, thanks to the late rising of the moon. The tall, dark trees, and
the white walls of the convent garden, were distinguishable in the midst
of the pale glimmer. Afar off, a street lamp, acted on by the wind, with
its red lights hardly visible through the mist and rain, swung backwards
and forwards over the dirty causeway of the solitary boulevard.

At rare intervals, they heard, at a very great distance, the rattle and
rumble of a coach, returning home late; then all was again silent.

Since their departure from the Rue Brise-Miche, Dagobert and his son had
hardly exchanged a word. The design of these two brave men was noble and
generous, and yet, resolute but pensive, they glided through the darkness
like bandits, at the hour of nocturnal crimes.

Agricola carried on his shoulders the sack containing the cord, the hook,
and the iron bar; Dagobert leaned upon the arm of his son, and Spoil
sport followed his master.

"The bench, where we sat down, must be close by," said Dagobert,
stopping.

"Yes," said Agricola, looking around; "here it is, father."

"It is oily half-past eleven--we must wait for midnight," resumed
Dagobert. "Let us be seated for an instant, to rest ourselves, and
decide upon our plan."

After a moment's silence, the soldier took his son's hands between his
own, and thus continued: "Agricola, my child--it is yet time. Let me go
alone, I entreat you. I shall know very well how to get through the
business; but the nearer the moment comes, the more I fear to drag you
into this dangerous enterprise."

"And the nearer the moment comes, father, the more I feel I may be of
some use; but, be it good or bad, I will share the fortune of your
adventure. Our object is praiseworthy; it is a debt of honor that you
have to pay, and I will take one half of it. Do not fancy that I will now
draw back. And so, dear father, let us think of our plan of action."

"Then you will come?" said Dagobert, stifling a sigh.

"We must do everything," proceeded Agricola, "to secure success. You have
already noticed the little garden-door, near the angle of the wall--that
is excellent."

"We shall get by that way into the garden, and look immediately for the
open paling."

"Yes; for on one side of this paling is the wing inhabited by Mdlle. de
Cardoville, and on the other that part of the convent in which the
general's daughters are confined."

At this moment, Spoil-sport, who was crouching at Dagobert's feet, rose
suddenly, and pricked up his ears, as if to listen.

"One would think that Spoil-sport heard something," said Agricola. They
listened--but heard only the wind, sounding through the tall trees of the
boulevard.

"Now I think of it, father--when the garden-door is once open, shall we
take Spoil-sport with us?"

"Yes; for if there is a watch-dog, he will settle him. And then he will
give us notice of the approach of those who go the rounds. Besides, he is
so intelligent, so attached to Rose and Blanche, that (who knows?) he may
help to discover the place where they are. Twenty times I have seen him
find them in the woods, by the most extraordinary instinct."

A slow and solemn knell here rose above the noise of the wind: it was the
first stroke of twelve.

That note seemed to echo mournfully through the souls of Agricola and his
father. Mute with emotion, they shuddered, and by a spontaneous movement,
each grasped the hand of the other. In spite of themselves, their hearts
kept time to every stroke of the clock, as each successive vibration was
prolonged through the gloomy silence of the night.

At the last strobe, Dagobert said to his son, in a firm voice: "It is
midnight. Shake hands, and let us forward!"

The moment was decisive and solemn. "Now, father," said Agricola, "we
will act with as much craft and daring as thieves going to pillage a
strong box."

So saying, the smith took from the sack the cord and hook; Dagobert armed
himself with the iron bar, and both advanced cautiously, following the
wall in the direction of the little door, situated not far from the angle
formed by the street and the boulevard. They stopped from time to time,
to listen attentively, trying to distinguish those noises which were not
caused either by the high wind or the rain.

It continued light enough for them to be able to see surrounding objects,
and the smith and the soldier soon gained the little door, which appeared
much decayed, and not very strong.

"Good!" said Agricola to his father. "It will yield at one blow."

The smith was about to apply his shoulder vigorously to the door, when
Spoil-sport growled hoarsely, and made a "point." Dagobert silenced the
dog with a word, and grasping his son's arm, said to him in a whisper:
"Do not stir. The dog has scented some one in the garden."

Agricola and his father remained for some minutes motionless, holding
their breath and listening. The dog, in obedience to his master, no
longer growled, but his uneasiness and agitation were displayed more and
more. Yet they heard nothing.

"The dog must have been deceived, father," whispered Agricola.

"I am sure of the contrary. Do not move."

After some seconds of expectation, Spoil-sport crouched down abruptly,
and pushed his nose as far as possible under the door, snuffling up the
air.

"They are coming," said Dagobert hastily, to his son.

"Let us draw off a little distance," replied Agricola.

"No," said his father; "we must listen. It will be time to retire, if
they open the door. Here, Spoil-sport! down!"

The dog obeyed, and withdrawing from the door, crouched down at the feet
of his master. Some seconds after, they heard a sort of splashing on the
damp ground, caused by heavy footsteps in puddles of water, and then the
sound of words, which carried away by the wind, did not reach distinctly
the ears of the soldier and the smith.

"They are the people of whom Mother Bunch told us, going their round,"
said Agricola to his father.

"So much the better. There will be an interval before they come round
again, and we shall have some two hours before us, without interruption.
Our affair is all right now."

By degrees, the sound of the footsteps became less and less distinct, and
at last died away altogether.

"Now, quick! we must not lose any time," said Dagobert to his son, after
waiting about ten minutes; "they are far enough. Let us try to open the
door."

Agricola leaned his powerful shoulder against it, and pushed vigorously;
but the door did not give way, notwithstanding its age.

"Confound it!" said Agricola; "there is a bar on the inside. I am sure of
it, or these old planks would not have resisted my weight."

"What is to be done?"

"I will scale the wall by means of the cord and hook, and open the door
from the other side."

So saying, Agricola took the cord, and after several attempts, succeeded
in fixing the hook on the coping of the wall.

"Now, father, give me a leg up; I will help myself up with the cord; once
astride on the wall, I can easily turn the hook and get down into the
garden."

The soldier leaned against the wall, and joined his two hands, in the
hollow of which his son placed one of his feet, then mounting upon the
robust shoulders of his father, he was able, by help of the cord, and
some irregularities in the wall, to reach the top. Unfortunately, the
smith had not perceived that the coping of the wall was strewed with
broken bottles, so that he wounded his knees and hands; but, for fear of
alarming Dagobert, he repressed every exclamation of pain, and replacing
the hook, he glided down the cord to the ground. The door was close by,
and he hastened to it; a strong wooden bar had indeed secured it on the
inside. This was removed, and the lock was in so bad a state, that it
offered no resistance to a violent effort from Agricola.

The door was opened, and Dagobert entered the garden with Spoil-sport.

"Now," said the soldier to his son, "thanks to you, the worst is over.
Here is a means of escape for the poor children, and Mdlle. de
Cardoville. The thing is now to find them, without accident or delay.
Spoil-sport will go before as a scout. Come, my good dog!" added
Dagobert, "above all--fair and softly!"

Immediately, the intelligent animal advanced a few steps, sniffing and
listening with the care and caution of a hound searching for the game.

By the half-light of the clouded moon, Dagobert and his son perceived
round them a V-shaped grove of tall trees, at which several paths met.
Uncertain which to choose, Agricola said to his father: "Let us take the
path that runs alongside the wall. It will surely lead to some building."

"Right! Let us walk on the strips of grass, instead of through the mud.
It will make less noise."

The father and son, preceded by the Siberian dog, kept for some time in a
winding path, at no great distance from the wall. They stopped now and
then to listen, or to satisfy themselves, before continuing their
advance, with regard to the changing aspects of the trees and bushes,
which, shaken by the wind, and faintly illumined by the pale light of the
moon, often took strange and doubtful forms.

Half-past twelve struck as Agricola and his father reached a large iron
gate which shut in that part of the garden reserved for the Superior--the
same into which Mother Bunch had intruded herself, after seeing Rose
Simon converse with Adrienne de Cardoville.

Through the bars of this gate, Agricola and his father perceived at a
little distance an open paling, which joined a half-finished chapel, and
beyond it a little square building.

"That is no doubt the building occupied by Mdlle. de Cardoville," said
Agricola.

"And the building which contains the chambers of Rose and Blanche, but
which we cannot see from here, is no doubt opposite it," said Dagobert.
"Poor children! they are there, weeping tears of despair," added he, with
profound emotion.

"Provided the gate be but open," said Agricola.

"It will probably be so--being within the walls."

"Let us go on gently."

The gate was only fastened by the catch of the lock. Dagobert was about
to open it, when Agricola said to him: "Take care! do not make it creak
on its hinges."

"Shall I push it slowly or suddenly?"

"Let me manage it," said Agricola; and he opened the gate so quickly,
that it creaked very little; still the noise might have been plainly
heard, in the silence of the night, during one of the lulls between the
squalls of wind.

Agricola and his father remained motionless for a moment, listening
uneasily, before they ventured to pass through the gate. Nothing stirred,
however; all remained calm and still. With fresh courage, they entered
the reserved garden.

Hardly had the dog arrived on this spot, when he exhibited tokens of
extraordinary delight. Picking up his ears, wagging his tail, bounding
rather than running, he had soon reached the paling where, in the
morning, Rose Simon had for a moment conversed with Mdlle. de Cardoville.
He stopped an instant at this place, as if at fault, and turned round and
round like a dog seeking the scent.

Dagobert and his son, leaving Spoil-sport to his instinct, followed his
least movements with intense interest, hoping everything from his
intelligence and his attachment to the orphans.

"It was no doubt near this paling that Rose stood when Mother Bunch saw
her," said Dagobert. "Spoil-sport is on her track. Let him alone."

After a few seconds, the dog turned his head towards Dagobert, and
started at full trot in the direction of a door on the ground-floor of a
building, opposite to that occupied by Adrienne. Arrived at this door,
the dog lay down, seemingly waiting for Dagobert.

"No doubt of it! the children are there!" said Dagobert, hastening to
rejoin Spoil-sport; "it was by this door that they took Rose into the
house."

"We must see if the windows are grated," said Agricola, following his
father.

"Well, old fellow!" whispered the soldier, as he came up to the dog and
pointed to the building, "are Rose and Blanche there?"

The dog lifted his head, and answered by a joyful bark. Dagobert had just
time to seize the mouth of the animal with his hands.

"He will ruin all!" exclaimed the smith. "They have, perhaps, heard him."

"No," said Dagobert. "But there is no longer any doubt--the children are
here."

At this instant, the iron gate, by which the soldier and his son had
entered the reserved garden, and which they had left open, fell to with a
loud noise.

"They've shut us in," said Agricola, hastily; "and there is no other
issue."

For a moment, the father and son looked in dismay at each other; but
Agricola instantly resumed: "The gate has perhaps shut of itself. I will
make haste to assure myself of this, and to open it again if possible."

"Go quickly; I will examine the windows."

Agricola flew towards the gate, whilst Dagobert, gliding along the wall,
soon reached the windows on the ground floor. They were four in number,
and two of them were not grated. He looked up at the first story; it was
not very far from the ground, and none of the windows had bars. It would
then be easy for that one of the two sisters, who inhabited this story,
once informed of their presence, to let herself down by means of a sheet,
as the orphans had already done to escape from the inn of the White
Falcon. But the difficult thing was to know which room she occupied.
Dagobert thought they might learn this from the sister on the ground
floor; but then there was another difficulty--at which of the four
windows should they knock?

Agricola returned precipitately. "It was the wind, no doubt, which shut
the gate," said he. "I have opened it again, and made it fast with a
stone. But we have no time to lose."

"And how shall we know the windows of the poor children?" said Dagobert,
anxiously.

"That is true," said Agricola, with uneasiness. "What is to be done?"

"To call them at hap-hazard," continued Dagobert, "would be to give the
alarm."

"Oh, heavens!" cried Agricola, with increasing anguish. "To have arrived
here, under their windows, and yet not to know!"

"Time presses," said Dagobert, hastily, interrupting his son; "we must
run all risks."

"But how, father?"

"I will call out loud, 'Rose and Blanche'--in their state of despair, I
am sure they do not sleep. They will be stirring at my first summons. By
means of a sheet, fastened to the window, she who is on the first story
will in five minutes be in our arms. As for the one on the ground
floor--if her window is not grated, we can have her in a second. If it
is, we shall soon loosen one of the bars."

"But, father--this calling out aloud?"

"Will not perhaps be heard."

"But if it is heard--all will be lost."

"Who knows? Before they have time to call the watch, and open several
doors, the children may be delivered. Once at the entrance of the
boulevard, and we shall be safe."

"It is a dangerous course; but I see no other."

"If there are only two men, I and Spoil-sport will keep them in check,
while you will have time to carry off the children."

"Father, there is a better way--a surer one," cried Agricola, suddenly.
"From what Mother Bunch told us, Mdlle. de Cardoville has corresponded by
signs with Rose and Blanche."

"Yes."

"Hence she knows where they are lodged, as the poor children answered her
from their windows."

"You are right. There is only that course to take. But how find her
room?"

"Mother Bunch told me there was a shade over the window."

"Quick! we have only to break through a wooden fence. Have you the iron
bar?"

"Here it is."

"Then, quick!"

In a few steps, Dagobert and his son had reached the paling. Three
planks, torn away by Agricola, opened an easy passage.

"Remain here, father, and keep watch," said he to Dagobert, as he entered
Dr. Baleinier's garden.

The indicated window was easily recognized. It was high and broad; a sort
of shade surmounted it, for this window had once been a door, since
walled in to the third of its height. It was protected by bars of iron,
pretty far apart. Since some minutes, the rain had ceased. The moon,
breaking through the clouds, shone full upon the building. Agricola,
approaching the window, saw that the room was perfectly dark; but light
came from a room beyond, through a door left half open. The smith, hoping
that Mdlle. de Cardoville might be still awake, tapped lightly at the
window. Soon after, the door in the background opened entirely, and
Mdlle. de Cardoville, who had not yet gone to bed, came from the other
chamber, dressed as she had been at her interview with Mother Bunch. Her
charming features were visible by the light of the taper she held in her
hand. Their present expression was that of surprise and anxiety. The
young girl set down the candlestick on the table, and appeared to listen
attentively as she approached the window. Suddenly she started and
stopped abruptly. She had just discerned the face of a man, looking at
her through the window. Agricola, fearing that Mdlle. de Cardoville would
retire in terror to the next room, again tapped on the glass, and running
the risk of being heard by others, said in a pretty loud voice: "It is
Agricola Baudoin."

These words reached the ears of Adrienne. Instantly remembering her
interview with Mother Bunch, she thought that Agricola and Dagobert must
have entered the convent for the purpose of carrying off Rose and
Blanche. She ran to the window, recognized Agricola in the clear
moonlight, and cautiously opened the casement.

"Madame," said the smith, hastily; "there is not an instant to lose. The
Count de Montbron is not in Paris. My father and myself have come to
deliver you."

"Thanks, thanks, M. Agricola!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a tone
expressive of the most touching gratitude; "but think first of the
daughters of General Simon."

"We do think of them, madame, I have come to ask you which are their
windows."

"One is on the ground floor, the last on the garden-side; the other is
exactly over it, on the first story."

"Then they are saved!" cried the smith.

"But let me see!" resumed Adrienne, hastily; "the first story is pretty
high. You will find, near the chapel they are building, some long poles
belonging to the scaffolding. They may be of use to you."