He was gorgeously dressed, and wore a profusion of jewelry. He wasmuch startled at seeing Tantaine, whom he knew to be the redoubtableMascarin's right-hand man. "A thousand thunders!" muttered he. "Ifthese people have sent him here for me, I must take care what I amabout," and with a friendly smile he extended his hand to Tantaine.
"Glad to see you," said he. "Now, what can I do for you, for I hopeyou have come to ask me to do something?""The veriest trifle," returned Tantaine.
"I am sorry that it is not something of importance, for I have thegreatest respect for M. Mascarin."This conversation had taken place in the window, and was interruptedevery moment by the shouts and laughter of the children; but beneaththese sounds of merriment came an occasional bitter wail oflamentation.
"What is that?" inquired Perpignan, in a voice of thunder. "Whopresumes to be unhappy in this establishment?""It is two of the lads that I have put on half rations," returnedPoluche. "I'll make them learn somehow or----"A dark frown on the master's face arrested his further speech. "Whatdo I hear?" roared Perpignan. "Do you dare, under my roof, to deprivethose poor children of an ounce of food? It is scandalous, I may say,infamous on your part, M. Poluche.""But, sir," faltered the professor, "have you not told me hundreds oftimes--""That you were an idiot, and would never be anything better. Go andtell Mother Butor to give these poor children their dinner."Repressing further manifestations of rage, Perpignan took Tantaine bythe arm and led him into a little side-room, which he dignified by thename of his office. There was nothing in it but three chairs, a commondeal table, and a few shelves containing ledgers. "You have come onbusiness, I presume," remarked Perpignan.
Tantaine nodded, and the two men seated themselves at the table,gazing keenly into each other's eyes, as though to read the thoughtsthat moved in the busy brain.
"How did you find out my little establishment down here?" askedPerpignan.
"By a mere chance," remarked Tantaine carelessly. "I go about a gooddeal, and hear many things. For instance, you have taken everyprecaution here, and though you are really the proprietor, yet thehusband of your cook and housekeeper, Butor, is supposed to be theowner of the house--at least it stands in his name. Now, if anythinguntoward happened, you would vanish, and only Butor would remain aprey for the police."Tantaine paused for a moment, and then slowly added, "Such tacticsusually succeed unless a man has some secret enemy, who would takeadvantage of his knowledge, to do him an injury by obtainingirrefragable proofs of his complicity."The ex-cook easily perceived the threat that was hidden under thesewords. "They know something," muttered he, "and I must find out whatit is.""If a man has a clear conscience," said he aloud, "he is all right. Ihave nothing to conceal, and therefore nothing to fear. You have nowseen my establishment; what do you think of it?""It seems to me a very well-conducted one.""It may have occurred to you that a factory at Roubaix might have beena better investment, but I had not the capital to begin with."Tantaine nodded. "It is not half a bad trade," said he.
"I agree with you. In the Rue St. Marguerite you will find more thanone similar establishment; but I never cared for the situation of theFaubourg St. Antoine. My little angels find this spot moresalubrious.""Yes, yes," answered Tantaine amicably, "and if they howl too muchwhen they are corrected, there are not too many neighbors to hearthem."Perpignan thought it best to take no notice of this observation. "Thepapers are always pitching into us," continued he. "They had muchbetter stick to politics. The fact is, that the profits of ourbusiness are tremendously exaggerated.""Well, you manage to make a living out of it?""I don't lose, I confess, but I have six little cherubs in hospital,besides the one in the kitchen, and these, of course, are a dead lossto me.""That is a sad thing for you," answered Tantaine gravely.
Perpignan began to be amazed at his visitor's coolness.
"Damn it all," said he, "if you and Mascarin think the business such aprofitable one, why don't you go in for it. You may perhaps think iteasy to procure the kids; just try it. You have to go to Italy formost of them, then you have to smuggle them across the frontier likebales of contraband goods."Perpignan paused to take a breath, and Tantaine asked,--"What sum to you make each of the lads bring in daily?""That depends," answered Perpignan hesitatingly.
"Well, you can give an average?""Say three francs then.""Three francs!" repeated Tantaine with a genial smile, "and you haveforty little cherubs, so that makes one hundred and twenty francs perday.""Absurd!" retorted Perpignan; "do you think each of the lads bring insuch a sum as that?""Ah! you know the way to make them do so.""I don't understand you," answered Perpignan, in whose voice a shadeof anxiety now began to appear.
"No offence, no offence," answered Tantaine; "but the fact is, thenewspapers are doing you a great deal of harm, by retailing some ofthe means adopted by your colleague to make the boys do a good day'swork. Do you recollect the sentence on that master who tied one of hislads down on a bed, and left him without food for two days at astretch?""I don't care about such matters; no one can bring a charge of crueltyagainst me," retorted Perpignan angrily.
"A man with the kindest heart in the world may be the victim ofcircumstances."Perpignan felt that the decisive moment was at hand.
"What do you mean?" asked he.
"Well, suppose, to punish one of your refractory lads, you were toshut him in the cellar. A storm comes on during the night, the guttergets choked up, the cellar fills with water, and next morning you findthe little cherub drowned like a rat in his hole?"Perpignan's face was livid.
"Well, and what then?" asked he.
"Ah! now the awkward part of the matter comes. You would not care tosend for the police, that might excite suspicion; the easiest thing isto dig a hole and shove the body into it."Perpignan got up and placed his back against the door.
"You know too much, M. Tantaine,--a great deal too much," said he.
Perpignan's manner was most threatening; but Tantaine still smiledpleasantly, like a child who had just committed some simplymischievous act, the results of which it cannot foresee.
"The sentence isn't heavy," he continued; "five years' penalservitude, if evidence of previous good conduct could be put in; butif former antecedents were disclosed, such as a journey to Nancy----"This was the last straw, and Perpignan broke out,--"What do you mean?" said he; "and what do you want me to do?""Only a trifling service, as I told you before. My dear sir, do notput yourself in a rage," he added, as Perpignan seemed disposed tospeak again. "Was it not you who first began to talk of your, 'em--well, let us say business?""Then you wanted to make yourself agreeable by talking all this rot tome. Well, shall I tell you in my turn what I think?""By all means, if it will not be giving you too much trouble.""Then I tell you that you have come here on an errand which no manshould venture to do alone. You are not of the age and build forbusiness like this. It is a misfortune--a fatal one perhaps--to putyourself in my power, in such a house as this.""But, my dear sir, what is likely to happen to me?"The features of the ex-cook were convulsed with fury; he was in thatmad state of rage in which a man has no control over himself.
Mechanically his hand slipped into his pocket; but before he coulddraw it out again, Tantaine who had not lost one of his movements,sprang upon him and grasped him so tightly by the throat that he waspowerless to adopt any offensive measures, in spite of his greatstrength and robust build. The struggle was not a long one; the oldman hurled his adversary to the ground, and placed his foot on hischest, and held him down, his whole face and figure seeminglytransfigured with the glories of strength and success.
"And so you wished to stab me,--to murder a poor and inoffensive oldman. Do you think that I was fool enough to enter your cut-throat doorwithout taking proper precautions?" And as he spoke he drew a revolverfrom his bosom. "Throw away your knife," added he sternly.
In obedience to this mandate, Perpignan, who was now entirelydemoralized, threw the sharp-pointed weapon which he had contrived toopen in his pocket into a corner of the room.
"Good," said Tantaine. "You are growing more reasonable now. Of courseI came alone, but do you think that plenty of people did not knowwhere I was going to? Had I not returned to-night, do you think thatmy master, M. Mascarin, would have been satisfied? and how long do youthink it would have been before he and the police would have beenhere. If you do not do all that I wish for the rest of your life, youwill be the most ungrateful fellow in the world."Perpignan was deeply mortified; he had been worsted in single combat,and now he was being found out, and these things had never happened tohim before.
"Well, I suppose that I must give in," answered he sulkily.
"Quite so; it is a pity that you did not think of that before.""You vexed me and made me angry.""Just so; well, now, get up, take that chair, and let us talkreasonably."Perpignan obeyed without a word.
"Now," said Tantaine, "I came here with a really magnificent proposal.
But I adopted the course I pursued because I wished to prove to youthat /you/ belonged more absolutely to Mascarin than did your wretchedforeign slaves to you. You are absolutely at his mercy, and he cancrush you to powder whenever he likes.""Your Mascarin is Satan himself," muttered the discomfited man. "Whocan resist him?""Come, as you think thus, we can talk sensibly at last.""Well," answered Perpignan ruefully, as he adjusted his disorderednecktie, "say what you like, I have no answer to make.""Let us begin at the commencement," said Tantaine. "For some days pastyour people have been following a certain Caroline Schimmel. A fellowof sixteen called Ambrose, a lad with a harp, was told off for thisduty. He is not to be trusted. Only a night or two ago one of my menmade him drunk; and fearing lest his absence might create surprise,drove him here in a cab, and left him at the corner."The ex-cook uttered an oath.
"Then you too are watching Caroline," said he. "I knew well that therewas some one else in the field, but that was no matter of mine.""Well, tell me why you are watching her?""How can you ask me? You know that my motto is silence and discretion,and that this is a secret intrusted to my honor."Tantaine shrugged his shoulders.
"Why do you talk like that, when you know very well that you arefollowing Ambrose on your own account, hoping by that means topenetrate a secret, only a small portion of which has been intrustedto you?" remarked he.
"Are you certain of this statement?" asked the man, with a cunninglook.
"So sure that I can tell you that the matter was placed in your handsby a certain M. Catenac."The expression in Perpignan's face changed from astonishment to fear.
"Why, this Mascarin knows everything," muttered he.
"No," replied Tantaine, "my master does not know everything, and theproof of this is, that I have come to ask you what occurred betweenCatenac's client and yourself, and this is the service that we expectfrom you.""Well, if I must, I must. About three weeks ago, one morning, I hadjust finished with half a dozen clients at my office in the Rue deFame, when my servant brought me Catenac's card. After some talk, heasked me if I could find out a person that he had utterly lost sightof. Of course I said, yes, I could. Upon this he asked me to make anappointment for ten the next morning, when some one would call on meregarding the affair. At the appointed time a shabbily dressed man wasshown in. I looked at him up and down, and saw that, in spite of hisgreasy hat and threadbare coat, his linen was of the finest kind, andthat his shoes were the work of one of our best bootmakers. 'Aha,'
said I to myself, 'you thought to take me in, did you!' I handed him achair, and he at once proceeded to let me into his reasons for coming.
'Sir,' said he, 'my life has not been a very happy one, and once I wascompelled to take to the Foundling Asylum a child that I loved verydearly, the son of a woman whom I adored. She is dead now, and I amold and solitary. I have a small property, and would give half of itto recover the child. Tell me, is there any chance of my doing so?'
You must imagine, my dear sir," continued he, after a slight pause,"that I was much interested in this story, for I said to myself, thatthe man's fortune must be a very small one if half of it would notamply repay me for making a journey to the Foundling Hospital. So Iagreed to undertake the business, but the old fellow was too sharp forme. 'Stop a bit, and let me finish,' said he, 'and you will see thatyour task will not be so easy as you seem to think it.' I, of course,bragged of my enormous sources of information, and the probability ofultimate success.""Keep to your story," said Tantaine impatiently, "I know all aboutthat.""I will leave you, then, to imagine all I said to the old man, wholistened to me with great satisfaction. 'I only hope that you are asskilful as M. Catenac says you are, and have as much influence andpower as you assert, for no man has a finer chance than you now have.
I have tried all means up to this, but I have failed.' I went first tothe hospital where the child had been placed, and they showed me theregister containing the date of his admission, but no one knew whathad become of him, for at twelve years of age he had left the place,and no one had heard of him since; and in spite of every effort, Ihave been unable to discover whether he is alive or dead.""A pretty riddle to guess," remarked Tantaine.
"An enigma that it is impossible to solve," returned Perpignan. "Howis one to get hold of a boy who vanished ten years ago, and who mustnow be a grown-up man?""We could do it."Tantaine's tone was so decided, that the other man looked sharply athim with a vague suspicion rising in his breast that the affair hadalso been placed in Mascarin's hands; and if so, whether he had workedit with more success than himself.
"You might, for all I know; but I felt that the clue was absolutelywanting," answered Perpignan sulkily. "I put on a bold face, however,and asked for the boy's description. The man told me that he couldprovide me with an accurate one, for that many people, notably thelady superior, remembered the lad. He could also give other detailswhich might be useful.""And these you obtained, of course?""Not yet.""Are you joking?""Not a bit. I do not know whether the old man was sharp enough to readin the expression of my features that I had not the smallest hope ofsuccess; be that as it may, he could give me no further informationthat day, declaring that he came in only to consult me, and thateverything must be done in a most confidential way. I hastened toassure him that my office was a perfect tomb of secrets. He told methat he took that for granted. Then telling me that he wished me todraw up a /precis/ of my intended course, he took out a note for fivehundred francs, which he handed to me for my time. I refused to takeit, though it cost me a struggle to do so, for I thought that I shouldmake more out of him later on. But he insisted on my taking it, sayingthat he would see me again soon, and that Catenac would communicatewith me. He left me less interested in the search than in who this oldman could possibly be."Tantaine felt that Perpignan was telling the truth.
"Did you not try and find out that?" asked he.
Perpignan hesitated; but feeling convinced that there was no loopholefor escape, he answered, "Hardly had my visitor left than, slipping ona cap and a workman's blouse, I followed him in his track, and saw himenter one of the finest houses in the Rue de Varennes.""He lived there then?""He did, and he was a very well-known man--the Duke de Champdoce.""Yes, I know all that," answered Tantaine, placidly, "but I can't, forthe life of me, imagine the connection between the Duke and CarolineSchimmel."Perpignan raised his eyebrows.
"Why did you put a man to watch her?" asked Tantaine.
"My reasons for doing so were most simple. I made every inquiryregarding the Duke; learned that he was very wealthy, and lived a verysteady life. He is married, and loves his wife dearly. They had oneson, whom they lost a year ago, and have never recovered from theshock. I imagine that this Duke, having lost his legitimate heir,wished me to find his other son. Do you not think that I am right?""There is something in it; but, after all, you have not explained yourreasons for watching Caroline."Perpignan was no match for Mascarin's right-hand man, but he was keenenough to discern that Tantaine was putting a string of questions tohim which had been prepared in advance. This he, however, waspowerless to resent.
"As you may believe," said he, "I made every inquiry into the past aswell as the present of the Duke, and also tried to discover who wasthe mother of the child, but in this I entirely failed.""What! not with all your means?" cried Tantaine, with a sneer.
"Laugh at me as much as you like; but out of the thirty servants inthe Champdoce establishment, not one has been there more than tenyears. Nor could I anywhere lay my hands upon one who had been in theDuke's service in his youth. Once, however, as I was in the wineshopin the Rue de Varennes, I quite by chance heard allusion made to awoman who had been in the service of the Duke twenty-five years ago,and who was now in receipt of a small allowance from him. This womanwas Caroline Schimmel. I easily found out her address, and set a watchon her.""And of what use will she be to you?""Very little, I fear. And yet the allowance looks as if she had at onetime done something out of the way for her employers. Can it be thatshe has any knowledge of the birth of this natural child?""I don't think much of your idea," returned Tantaine carelessly.
"Since then," continued Perpignan, "the Duke has never put in anappearance in my office.""But how about Catenac?""I have seen him three times.""Has he told you nothing more? Do you not even know in which hospitalthe child was placed?""No; and on my last visit I plainly told him that I was getting sickof all this mystery; and he said that he himself was tired, and wassorry that he had ever meddled in the affair."Tantaine was not surprised at hearing this, and accounted forCatenac's change of front by the threats of Mascarin.
"Well, what do you draw from this?" asked he.
"That Catenac has no more information than I have. The Duke mostlikely proposes to drop the affair; but, were I in his place, I shouldbe afraid to find the boy, however much I might at one time havedesired to do so. He may be in prison--the most likely thing for a ladwho, at twelve years of age, ran away from a place where he was welltreated. I have, however, planned a mode of operation, for, withpatience, money, and skill, much might be done.""I agree with you.""Then let me tell you. I have drawn an imaginary circle round Paris. Isaid to myself, 'I will visit every house and inn in the villagesround within this radius; I will enter every isolated dwelling, andwill say to the inhabitants, "Do any of you remember at any timesheltering and feeding a child, dressed in such and such a manner?" '
giving at the same time a description of him. I am sure that I shouldfind some one who would answer in the affirmative. Then I should gaina clue which I would follow up to the end."This plan appeared so ingenious to Tantaine, that he involuntarilyexclaimed,--"Good! excellent!"Perpignan hardly knew whether Tantaine was praising or blaming him.
His manner might have meant either.
"You are very fast," returned he dismally. "Perhaps presently you willbe good enough to allow that I am not an absolute fool. Do you reallythink that I am an idiot? At any rate, I sometimes hit upon ajudicious combination. For example, with regard to this boy, I have anotion which, if properly worked might lead to something.""Might I ask what it is?""I speak confidentially. If it is impossible to lay our hands upon thereal boy, why should we not substitute another?"At this suggestion, Tantaine started violently.
"It would be most dangerous, most hazardous," gasped he.
"You are afraid, then?" said Perpignan, delighted at the effect hisproposal had made.
"It seems it is you who were afraid," retorted Tantaine.
"You do not know me when you say that," said Perpignan.
"If you were not afraid," asked Tantaine, in his most oily voice, "whydid you not carry out your plan?""Because there was one obstacle that could not be got over.""Well, I can't see it myself," returned Tantaine, desirous of hearingevery detail.
"Ah, there is one thing that I omitted in my narrative. The Dukeinformed me that he could prove the identity of the boy by certainscars.""Scars? And of what kind, pray?""Now you are asking me too much. I do not know."On receiving this reply, Tantaine rose hastily from his chair, andthus concealed his agitation from his companion.
"I have a hundred apologies to make for taking up so much of yourvaluable time. My master has got it into his head that you were afterthe same game as ourselves. He was mistaken, and now we leave thefield clear to you."Before Perpignan could make any reply, the old man had passed throughthe doorway. On the threshold he paused, and said,--"Were I in your place, I would stick to my first plan. You will neverfind the boy, but you will get several thousand francs out of theDuke, which I am sure will come in handy.""There are scars now, then," muttered Tantaine, as he moved away fromthe house, "and that Master Catenac never said a word about them!"
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